Breathing, Underwater.

found via I still care. That's the problem. 

She feels as if she is breathing underwater at times. She could not find the proper way to adapt into how lungs suppose to work as how gills do, but because she lives in the nature of breathing air—and not salt water in any way—she allows her self to just endlessly drown.

That is how she portrays how life falls upon her; all seems terribly right but yet all feels correctly wrong. It never quite fit—those pieces of puzzles—on how the life she lives does not even feels as if it is hers to begin with. It is like her whole world is really just simply underwater—all transparent and unable for her to grasp—even when she uses the sanest part of her imagination.

Friends around her are like chorals—pretty but really are for nothing. She really does like them, really could even be an understatement because even for a small fish underwater, the chorals are the whole world for it. It applies the same law in her life. Friends are there for her, around her. But she could never fit in. It never makes her feels as if she truly belongs—like a fish unable to swim near the chorals, in fear it might hurts it, it might kill it.

If she could describe the taste of her life she would say it is salty—like sea water, perhaps. It never gives one feeling of satisfaction, as it gives out constant thirst, as if nothing in the world would ever be enough. It is as if she dives underwater and takes in all the salt water she could comprehend before she drowns, before she dies.

Closing her eyes and putting her ears to work, she would hear the noises around her all blurry. There are no distinct noises she could point out—no familiar voice, no apparent sound—just a mix of all and brings out nothing, really. It is as if she is listening to the faint buzz that fills her eardrums while being underwater. Everything sounds the same, simply similar one to another.

To walk on a path in her life is just like swimming through an open sea with no definite destination. Just simply allow the waves to carry her somewhere, maybe. It would bring her to an end, her end apparently. But it really is a long journey of just swimming or just drowning all altogether. Life never quite has one distinctive destination to her, or she could say not yet. She never makes a decision about after all.

In the end, all that she ever would believe is that her life is simply an ocean of everything and she really is just breathing underwater.

- all the tragic nights 

I am currently doing my practicum, thus the lack of updates for such a long time. I hope to be back, one day. This is my haven, remember. I am doing lots of writing, but none give me satisfaction like the one I am doing here. Oh well, let's just say that life is getting in the way, as usual.