The Young Lady in The Train, The Young Man on The Platform

The heavy feelings from earlier are still there, floating around the two of them. The young lady in the train, the young man on the platform. The young man awaits with puzzled look as the girl turns to him. Just a few seconds before the door slams shut.

“Aren’t you going to get a girlfriend like him?” she asks.

Taken aback from the question, his eyes wide awake. A short silence fills in as he thinks deep into her eyes in solemn stare.

“I don’t fall in love that easily,” he answers eventually, smiling in a way as if he’s laughing at none other but himself.

She nods to his answer and the door slams shut. They both stare at each other until the train starts to move, separating them yet again one possibility away.

NOTE:

I’m quoting this because it’s taken from my current work. I personally love this scene so I tried to translate it into English. Sounds meh, but why not?

*EDITED*

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The routine is killing him.

Realization hits him as he soaring through the sidewalk packed with other lifeless beings. He, along with them, drag their feet with certain destinations in mind, yet they have no power on disobeying nor altering. He blames the system outside. The stigmas. The rules. Something unseen created by human themselves, limiting their own freedom. It moves their bodies, tainting from their life and death to day-to-day decisions.Read More »

Afternoon

Today afternoon is quiet and nice, despite the storm and all.
Yesterday afternoon was quiet and nice, despite the emptiness and all.
Last week afternoon was quiet and nice, despite the uneasiness and all.
Last month afternoon was quiet and nice, despite the fear and all.
Last year afternoon was gleeful and fun, despite the exhaustion and all.

Nine years ago, the afternoon was calm and peaceful, within the mourn and all.
Ten years ago, the afternoon was bright and full of laughter, without the fear of losing and all.
Eleven years ago, the afternoon was just the afternoon, without anyone recognized it passed.
Twelve years ago, the afternoon was forgotten, memory secluded behind hazy barrier.
Thirteen years ago, nothing could be memorized.

Takes time for granted, they say.
Today 11:00 a.m. isn’t the same as yesterday’s 11:00 a.m.
Last year 14:00 p.m. will not happen again at today 14:00 p.m, or at any other time in the future.
Today’s bliss belongs to today.
Last year’s bliss belongs to last year.
So does its mourn. So do its tears.
While it’s happening, takes them for granted.
Feel them. Memorize them. Embrace them.
For it wouldn’t happen again in the future.
Acknowledge their existence.
For it only happened once.

Today afternoon is quiet and nice, despite the storm and all.
The storm starts brewing and ready to wreck everything on its way.
I feel. I memorize. I embrace.
I acknowledge the storm.