the threads in her head

gravitate. forlorn. grapple.

These are the three words that has been spinning around my head lately.

The first came a few days ago. Walking towards the traffic light from the bookshop, teacher's day gifts tucked in my hand. The word popped out from nowhere, and struck me. and I was thinking why I have never used this word before in any of my written work.

Gravitate. It's a good word. The most basic, one of the main concepts of physics. Of the science behind the workings of life. Gravity. Keeps us stuck to the ground. It's reality. However high you jump, you're gonna fall back. Unless you're in space of course. But the majority of us have hardly the resources to go fly out to space.

So we stick close to this earth. And gravitate towards certain people. People who treat us nice, who are kind to us, who care, who love, who capture out attention. Mmmm.

But when for a while there is no one, when one wants to share but can't, when one has great wonderful news to talk about, but there's just no. one. to hear, then forlorn creeps in. A tiny little ghost, leaving the faintest of footsteps in your heart. But the soft footstep echoes loudly, bright and clear, only emphasizing the emptiness and loneliness of that one single moment. Forlorn little girl on along the grey cobbled streets, dressed in pale faded clothings - muted, because everyone is passing her by without a extra glance.

Emptiness, ache, hollow silence.

Grapple, as much as you want with the truth that is now right in front of your face. Struggle, deny, but it is the truth that is so starkly presented. Grapple, seemingly valiantly. But your movements are wild and uncoordinated, you're just a drowning man who can't swim, and trashes his arms in the water as he gasp and tries to yell for help, only to go down.

*sometime in August, continued now*