how we hate hurting or to hurt- yet we still do, and because of that I want to name a storm after you
ashakajima
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@leftunfinished
how we hate hurting or to hurt- yet we still do, and because of that I want to name a storm after you
ashakajima
Unfinished love story
A stranger entered the coffee shop greeted by it’s familiar smell. As per usual it is packed with people studying, having a chat and taking instagram photos. Stepping their way to the obnoxiously long line to the cashier, they squint around the filled room hoping to get a seat.
Finding that there was none available, their head starts to get heavy, it was too loud in the room, although a calm song was playing through the cafe’s speakers, the mouths that talk in unison are very disturbing. A man by the window was indecently being a nuisance chatting with the person that sits across from him. A student had their laptop and research papers filled with different colored highlights spread over one table. A mother trying to calm down her child while gossiping with her friends was giggling with secrets.Â
The stranger gave up looking for a seat when they heard the barista call out their name, apparently for the third time. They apologized while grabbing the drink. The sunlight was gold as it teased through the glass windows during the late afternoon. The man who was a nuisance let out a loud laugh before looking out the windows, and then leaving. There wasn’t anything strange with that man, there wasn’t any reason to notice him again.Â
Their eyes fell to the one who silenced the loud man, then towards the seat across. When the stranger finally stood across the other stranger the sunlight teased no more and the room dimed away from glow.
“Excuse me, Is this seat taken?”
+ + +
“Do you believe in loving in one day”
- - - - - -
thoughts: I think I was trying to write a story about love but not a love story
Left unfinished
I write this right now, for the sake of everything and for nothing.
Words are meaningless they say, but maybe it could be magical. I hold no power in creating worlds of fantasy or mystery. I barely have enough knowledge to share. But these words are the words for me. A 26 letter puzzle piece of my emotions, thoughts, dreams.
I just want to have something I’ll come back to. And although I know this will end unfinished, I will start this anyway. Starting, is enough for me.
All questions will remain unanswered even after you decide to read every bullshit I type. Why do I say this? Knowing the me now, none of this is going to make sense, since I am not writing for anyone to understand, I’m writing this for the future me to be entertained. I have unfinished stories in scattered notebooks I can’t even count in one hand. Because I know, these are everything to me.
This is for you, future me, friend, stranger or intruder. This is for anyone and no one.