Born a contagious one, dying the same. In a trash bin of a hospital, our mother here, found me. You ever came across that feel of crying with other futile things just like you? Empathetic, right? Without a name, without a hearth.
Falling into youth, stamped as Bobby, found my real motive here. Like a bird in hutch, piercing for an escape, a breakout. But where to flee exactly? Home? But I was Home. Complicated it was.
Entailing a lingering, interminable time, I finally made my consensus with Bobby. Dancing for others fun, crooning for others glee. Begging at signals, booming in weddings. Always seeking for hideouts. I didn’t want to, Bobby wanted. I always scrupled, Bobby didn’t. I loathed it every day, Bobby had no choice.
Experiencing a life with a label of weird, revolting, utterly different creature. Experiencing a Nothingness to everyone. Experiencing a journey from being an introvert to an obstinate. Experiencing every exasperating experience, here I am, waiting for an end. My salvation lies very near. I should be somewhat happy today. Maybe I am, maybe I’m not. Silence here is. Darkness, like always. Shadows of past, shadows of dreams, shadows of hopes, all screeching in my face. All in dust, because of Bobby.
Sometimes I wonder, how dark darkness could be? How excruciating things could be? I wonder what exactly was wrong, My confinement or Bobby’s life? Bobby doesn’t know that. Neither do I.