Chill at night
Ever get that feeling
Of talking to pastel yellow paint of walls and waving windows wondering if they would echo back to you
Of trying ot sleep face down with your hands and feet dangling, a chilling cold felt in your hands touched by the rotting woman underneath the bed
Of riding a bus, feeling a gut wrenching scene of crashing, hearing blood-curling screams, gore and flying bullets shot by the man sitting beside you
Of falling out of the train, cramped on the door with people, a hundred feet above ground
Of seeing the face of the dead you saw in the funeral coming back to you in dreams
Of glimpsing a part of your memories that may or may not happened but you knew your reliving everything, knowing how it will end.
Of people seeing you, knowing, jugding behind your back that you are living a nightmare
Wearing a mask that you show to people, trying to live a normal life
Maybe you can fade in the background
And not be seen
But who knows what you see at night
Maybe they knew, by your breathing, your twitch, your talk, your smile, your lean in the chair, your itch, your tilt of the head, your eyes
Your eyes, it’s the window of your soul
You’ve closed your eyes but the opened windows sends a chill at night
Afterlife
People inevitably die of many reasons. We are human beings designated to a role. To rule, to obey, to opress, to enact our inate desire. To slowly unravel ourselves in life and find out who we truly are. What made me human and what is my purpose in life. To feel or not to feel. To have and not to have. To enjoy and be sad at the same time. We are complicated human beings that even ourselves do not understand. We can nurture life and kill one. Without the basis of a creator and the created being, how will the system work. It creates a big gap on everything that we know and those we do not know. Freeing our minds from the endless possibilities of life and death, we may not fathom what is in the afterlife unless we are dead. Then how did we able to claim that we have endless possibilities if we do not know where it all started. With the end comes a new beginning, its a cycle of life. How do we know death is the end of everything? Or is it really just start of a new beginning? Of another life.
Doppelganger
"Take care!" called my sister as I passed through her slightly opened room and saw her smile at me."'Okay!" Five more minutes and I'll be late to our night-out, hearing the doorbell downstairs I stumbled and opened the door, widening my eyes and asked my sister "Who is that upstairs?".