To a Stranger

I believe within every dry and flat crust of human being there is the sweltering lava of inner emotion. You are sentimental but you care not to show it. You hope one day some one with full understanding will approach you and find it in a way that satisfies you the most. You listen to music and melt yourself in it. Sometimes with your spirit in full swing, and sometimes driven to tears. You hope there is someone beside you to share it, especially someone you like. You imagine it should be excruciating fun to find connection in a person you admire, to be recognized by him. But there’s no one beside you. You are disappointed. You tell yourself to be practical. You convince yourself the world is cold and people are indifferent. That’s life, you conclude. When you meet people, you probably expect the least in others, not aware of the risk of underestimating other beings. So a lot is lost with the lapse of time and time is irreversible.

What is better? To expect the best in others and bear him with the responsibility of commitment, or to see them as they appear to be and make everyone comfortable? It is for you to decide.

Don’t try to see though my thoughts by these words alone. I am the kind of person who watch you from the dark. I’d rather be a cold eye in the dark than a diamond under the light for everyone to judge.