chapter III: bargaining. §O5. the most red song in the world
knocking at the door with a "past" sign, it seems locked. i diligently tried to find a way to get inside, but the lock's safely secured by my stupid mistakes and shortcomings. and even the key, that's been fused of my most sincere regrets, can't ensure my entrance. let me in... i look through the keyhole and see a pathetic naive kid, sitting at the table; he's writing an essay on a piece of paper, and its title reads "my goals and dreams". he doesn't have a slightest idea about the consequences of such actions. i scream and i shout, trying to warn him of his senses, to bring him back to reason, to prevent him from becoming me. he hears nothing, there's a whole year between us and, as far as i'm concerned, there is no cry of such force that could overcome this distance. i'm staring at the door with the "future" inscription. this one is wide open. it's way too bright and unexplored; it's so unclear; it's so cold, and it's so uncomfortable that i don't want to set my foot in. darling, if you divided my life to the time before i met you and after you left me, then i won't move an inch. so i sit here in the hall, scratching "present" on the floor. i'm examining the corridor: a light's shining through the window, and on the windowsill there's a pot, and a daisy's thirsting in that pot. i reach out for my flask to water the flower, but my heart has frozen the water. perplexed, i utter silent words, my breath is but a cloud of warm air evaporating. and that's where it hit me that ice can't become steam, it should stay water for a while.