I've always thought that maybe I could cheat destiny. For once, I'm really at a loss to articulate my thoughts. Initially it was anger. Seething, uncontrollable anger. Everything that culminated over the past few months just burst like a dam. Violence that surprised myself. A shove here, a push there. Quite quite unlike anything before. The screaming, the loss of restraint. Vitriol-laced language. Bitterness in tone. Two not-quite-unified beings each stubborn as Mount Everest. Each refusing to give any headway, each refusing to back down.
But now that the anger has abated, been quelled by Mom's prawns-with-oats, a hot-and-cold shower, it's a wrenching sort of Despair, Anger's silent compatriot, phosphoresent shadow, inconspicuous understudy. Up steps Despair to relieve Anger of it's duties (for he has done his part). The shower, rivulets of water trickling down bare skin. Scourge. Scourge. SCOURGE. Cleanse. Renew. Merge freshwater with saltwater till you can't tell the difference. The fogged up mirror. Fragility.
Perhaps things will be okay. Vin says forget it. Stoic denial of the truth, perhaps? I don't k n o w. It's a cadaverous shroud. Sepulchral canopy. Vulgar. So damn crass. Don't talk to me tomorrow, anyone. I bite.
Vanessa Lim 1:50 p. m.
