Waking up again in the morning and staring at him feels a little blurry, I start to think I’m going the wrong way but Teressa told me being alone was a good sign. Those people out there are awfully productive, making me look boring and ambiguous to my eternal partner, they just seem to have some energy source turning on at a certain time. Maybe I just like giving him the ticket to get my answers back, being able to push but unlikely to pull strong enough. I need to be aware of this, but sometimes I forget who I am really talking to.
- Am I like the old-fashioned wise men you’re used to see? The Everest is no longer the highest.
- I’m not trying to compare your life with other people, no Everest is being climbed in here.
- Let’s just talk about ordinary things, love, maybe?
- I don’t intend to disappoint you more than you already are. Ordinary? Love has surpassed those limits; I’m not willing to get you crazy though.
- Why is it, that every time I come to you, you just have a twisted heel for me?
- I’m your mirror’s image, there’s no me when you come here.
- I don’t mind. I’m just coming for answers and receiving more questions.
- You forgot who I really am, didn’t you?
- Learning isn’t a suitable process for me.
- So, you know it, I won’t get used to that learned helplessness you got. Break the bubble.
- Breakage. That might be it.
- I liked the idea of reflection better.
I broke the bubble, took my suit on and went to the subway station. As is supposed, there was a whole crowd of people in there, some waiting patiently for the train but others talking desperately on the phone wearing the same suit I had. I now know that somehow, I’ve managed to be exactly like them but never been that courageous to accept it. Maybe that’s the difference between successful people and me, I have this cursed personality, always questioning what happens on the surface but never diving to know the bottom of the ocean.
Either way, who in this world knows it? Perhaps I am more into this than every person on this station but this is a real-life problem, Teressa would know how to solve it. However, our strength rate is lower than we think, like some sort of zombie-headed people. Maybe I should go back and throw it all, but here I am, no passion and no life needed…
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