It’s so confusing. I sit here in front of the PC, fingers on oily keys on a dirty black keyboard. I want to write, but I have nothing to write about. I want to think, but I don’t know what I’m thinking. I wish I could tell you how beautiful the night is, but I haven’t even looked out my window. A tempting cool breeze softly blows in through the open window diagonally across me, partially blocked by the heavy brown curtains. This is annoying. I’ve been thinking of a couple of lines… I can see them clearly written, beautiful and perfect, but the start and middle of the poem/prose is a blank white page.

I could write about how I’m still alone, and how sad it is that Love sometimes cannot be found even when you search for it. I could write about how I’ve grown even more self-reliant these last few days, and come to the realization that no matter how well someone knows me and how close they are to me, no one understands me as well as I do. The Lone Wolf once again.

I could paint yet another picture of me, alone under my beloved night sky. She reads my thoughts, and I lose myself in her countless, twinkling stars. Not a word needs to be spoken, and I’m free to think about everything… all the friends I’ve made, all the love I thought I’d found, all the sins I’ve committed, everything that shackles me, and everything that sets me free. Alone, as usual, under starry black sky, no one in my thoughts, and I in no one else’s. Come the first rays of dawn, I become the wind and blow away…

I woke up this morning to the sound of the dainty raindrops on my window-pane. How lovely the sky looks, steel grey. All the buildings and all the trees seem to have been reborn, fresh from a heavenly bath. The wind sighs contently, as the breeze blows gently by my ear. No sounds of cars or other machines this morning. All I hear is the chirping of birds. A smile fades gracefully from my face, to be replaced immediately by another, just the way one happy thought fades and re-forms into another. It is because of mornings like this that I am happy to be alive. What a perfect time to stand close to you and whisper, “I love you”…

…but it’s such a pity that I don’t.

What would I give to be away from here – away from what life has become?
I don’t remember the last time I heard the chirping of a bird. How sad.
My body’s here in tranquility, every bit of it except my heart, which every now and then suddenly beats faster for a few seconds, reflecting perhaps the sudden occurrence of a frustrated thought – a silent scream of pain coming from a wild soul put on hold…

6.50pm… I wish this moment would stand still for a while… enough for me to take it in until my desire to witness beauty is satisfied. Looking out of the window of my noisy train, I see a greying world with just a tinge of colour, like an artist delicately touching up a charcoal painting with a pastel-paint brush. The sky is lit with a strange grey light. The sun has already set, and the moon is yet to rise. Nevertheless, this grey glow lights up the world, gifting it an almost magical, mystical visibility, lovely to behold. I wish this moment would stand still for a while………

6.57pm… the sky has darkened… the moment is gone.

Black as the night. Black as the thoughts in my head, flitting around like butterflies… chasing them away. I lie in bed, awake, head on my salty pillow, and think about you. It’s not appropriate… it’s not likely to happen… it’ll never happen. Black and white are imcompatible… some things never change.

Again tonight, I think I’ll cry myself to sleep… in the darkness, I think I’ll dream about your face, I think I’ll think about about your smile, and how it would be if you’d smile at me all the time, forever. What should I do… what can I do to make you like me?

Maybe I’ll cut myself and end up in a hospital,
Maybe you’ll see me then.
Maybe I’ll die or disappear completely,
Maybe you’ll think of me then.

Or maybe, no matter what I do, nothing will change… I’ll always be in the background, just another ordinary boy. You’re not like any of the other girls, but I’m just like every other boy. I don’t stand a chance… some things never change.