Tuesday, May 3, 2016

BLACK CLOTHES AND WHITE HEADBAND.

I went back home from the funeral. What a long day. I realized life could be a whole universe or a grain of sand. And that doesn't even matter. People are ghosts walking around ready for their coffins. I'm so tired from the cries and the deadlines up to my ears. And I realized I no longer could just pop up a rambling message and hoped for comfort. Or a simple "How are you?" Perhaps besides my family and Hedi, no one would care if I had ever gone back. Such little things remind me of such great value I used to have. I woke up from the most tiring nap having no idea it was a sleep. Today, some people left the sea, some came off the mountain, some went back from a funeral. I envied those who were enjoying life while I passed my mother's grave in the purest sadness. I was speechless, vulnerable, and very lonely. She now rests with her brother, the kindest uncle of mine. He was a sincere and generous man, a man that never judged. This is one of the saddest day I've ever gone through. The day I saw my mother again in black clothes and white headband, saw her dear brother off the road of his life. Even if vulnerability was inspirational like they said, it's aching to confess the truth.
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