First sorrow

She blinked back the hot tears which started to form behind her once bright eyes. Never did she come to think that she would actually cry again, pierced by the sweet sting of love. Yet she wasn’t sure whether it was for love that she cried or for the sheer betrayal which had been lashed upon her. Nevertheless she still had to release the frustration, anger and sadness which she kept bottled up inside her throbbing heart and had donned a smiling mask which had managed to fool everyone she met. She had no choice. She didn’t want to appear distraught and forlorn from mixed up emotions. The thing about the battle of emotions that when it is over, you can’t be sure whether you have emerged victorious or defeated. You could only emerge and pick up the fractured pieces of whatever it is that you foolishly surrendered and continue with Life without so much as a glance behind and think all those stupid “What if?” thoughts. It’s bad enough to have to deal with present crap and having to deal with past crap isn’t going to improve anything. Dwell on the past and gradually you’ll lose sight of the future. However the future is built upon past nostalgia as a foundation. Whatever it is that happens now paves a new path for a different future. Best to be prepared with thick-soled boots if you ask me. One lives and learns.

Erasing the last of her messages on her hand phone she tossed it lightly on her bed and lumbered off to sit by her window. She looked up to see a starless sky and watched as cloud wraiths glided silently across the pale crescent moon which seemed to be grinning unpleasantly at her. It was nights like this that she felt most lonely. The silence was so thick that if she reached out she could squeeze a handful of it out of the air. But as she listened carefully she discovered that the silence of the night was actually an orchestra of many tiny noises. She heard the chirp of crickets, the breath of the wind, the low-pitched buzz of winged insects, the rustle of trees and the flap of a passing bat performing its nocturnal rites. She then closed her eyes and allowed her mind to wander. Her mind prodded at bits of memory. Layers of guilt and congealed regrets resurfaced slowly like apples in a bobbing tub but she waved them off dismissively. She was in no mood to deal with more bouts of sadness when already drowning in current glum. Happy memories wafted past and she picked on them, doting upon the sweet experiences which made her smile. Her first crush, her first date, her first kiss… A tear escaped her unresisting eyelid and she was jolted back to the present. Opening her eyes and blinking a few times she tried to readjust her mind and wiped off the runaway tear. Stupid stupid stupid to have done such stupid things!! Stupid to have believed such flamboyant promises!! Beautiful words that turned out to be so empty!! She was so enthralled by the enchanting words that she did not foresee the impending disaster until it hit her straight in the face. The human heart is so easily deceived. Its craving for love and attention is insatiable. She pondered on these thoughts for a moment and sighed, her chest heaving in. She got up pushed everything off her bed with a sweep of her arm and fell asleep.

This was my actually my first attempt at fictional writing. *laughs* It was a sudden inspiration that came like the wind. One minute here and the next minute its blowing someone’s farmhouse and dropping it on some innocent old lady who happened to be wearing red boots in some weird country. What do you think of it? I know it isn’t exactly a masterpiece. I’ve got lots more to learn about writing and I’m gonna improve pretty soon. *looks smug* Anyway,hope it was an enjoyable read.

When does it start? There are very few starts. Oh,some things seem to be beginnings. The play,the game, the war is just a little window on a ribbon of events that may extend back thousands of years, but in this case of blogging,I think people have been doing so for,if not thousands of years,then perhaps decades. The point is, there’s always something before. But then again,every story must have it's beginning right? So I shall begin anew my story which I shall narrate in this newborn blog of mine for all the world to envision.

Blogging seems to be the ‘in’ thing amongst most of my friends and since I have quite a considerable amount of time in my hands I’ve decided to indulge in this little activity of theirs of which they find so interesting that they sometimes spend hours just typing goodness knows what till they have dark circles that would shame even a panda. I think to myself,”Who’d even read all the stuff that they type or that I would type anyway?” Then again,I guess the readers would be the friends and fellow bloggers of the blogger. That last sentence seems weird doesn’t it?

So do enjoy reading what I will post here. I might not be able to update itt frequently on the account of me being caught up with studies and work but i will occasionally add stuff here.

Yours truly,

Zach