I felt the "boiling" water of the Women's dorm faucet caressing my body. It was already past 9 in the morning,I just came from my first class not yet bathed. Yes, I admit that I don't take a bath for my 7:00 class. I'd be late for my speech (SPCM 104 class) if I'd still get to dry my hair and end up looking hideous at the end. Damn the person who will mock me.
The everyday water that I bathe with is slowly killing the strands of my hair. Just like how I felt dead inside that cubicle while I was taking a bath. I wanted to drop a single tear, together with the water gushing out from the shower so that I won't feel its warmth.
But I didn't cry. I haven't cried for a long time.
It scared me. I am always scared. My posts on this blog mostly contained the phrase, "And it scared me." It's getting too pathetic.
Still, I wanted to cry. I want to rub away everything just like the soap I held on my left hand. I hope my silent self would stop being silent. I hoped that the soap would just cleanse away everything.
But it's just a soap. And all I writer could do with a soap is play with it with his words.
I turned the shower's knob to lower the gush. I was about to finish taking my late bath. Then I thought I wasn't able to cry. Again, it scared me. I turned the shower up again, until i could feel the gush of water splashing on my face rapidly.
It didn't help at all. I took my clothes and went back to our room.
After putting my clothes on, I read a letter.
I was teary-eyed, but still I didn't cry.
Damn the water for not comforting me.
The everyday water that I bathe with is slowly killing the strands of my hair. Just like how I felt dead inside that cubicle while I was taking a bath. I wanted to drop a single tear, together with the water gushing out from the shower so that I won't feel its warmth.
But I didn't cry. I haven't cried for a long time.
It scared me. I am always scared. My posts on this blog mostly contained the phrase, "And it scared me." It's getting too pathetic.
Still, I wanted to cry. I want to rub away everything just like the soap I held on my left hand. I hope my silent self would stop being silent. I hoped that the soap would just cleanse away everything.
But it's just a soap. And all I writer could do with a soap is play with it with his words.
I turned the shower's knob to lower the gush. I was about to finish taking my late bath. Then I thought I wasn't able to cry. Again, it scared me. I turned the shower up again, until i could feel the gush of water splashing on my face rapidly.
It didn't help at all. I took my clothes and went back to our room.
After putting my clothes on, I read a letter.
I was teary-eyed, but still I didn't cry.
Damn the water for not comforting me.
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