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pening-sula, solved
Written on: Friday, February 13, 2009
Time: 10:48 PM Anson Onesiphorus didn't want to tell but he knew these things were never written down but could not be kept from prying eyes. he's been with his parents for so long but has he ever explicitly told them how much they mean to him. especially his mother, whom he knew would always be by his side, regardless. he never did something like that but no one knows what to believe, nobody knows what to to think of him; what is he. who knows? not him, i suppose. training in spy school never seemed like such an absurd idea before, why did it affect him now? there always seemed to be something getting in the way of him thinking like everyone else. he could not just get it or just accept it, not because it was hard but he decided to believe he was too easy on himself. he took the blame again, and who would see through that - no one, for sure. how was he supposed to live up to his older brother's invisible expectations and standards. they didn't want him to but he knew they did, and he did too. that he could not understand and made him his worse enemy, when he was all alone, left in the open for his insecurities to consume. the only time he was ever close to her was when they helped that kid during the camp; but all he did was cushion the poor boy's thrashing head with his foot. he never said much but he wondered if she knew how pretty she was. his friends had always been there for him but he doesn't remember saying anything about them. do they know that he'd do anything for them? anything? do they know that they mean the world to him? does his family know they mean more than the world to him? he wants to know he is accepted, it makes him feel secure. sometimes he knows, but he wants to hear it because he always seems to be able to cast doubts. and they should know better than to condemn, those things hit him very hard. it was only yesterday that he convinced himself that dreams are but past realities. he wants to say so many things but doesn't know the right words to choose. and that's why i told him not to keep it in, because it would hurt too much. funny, i still keep so much in me. i guess the preacher doesn't always practice his teachings. besides, its hard to sieve the truth from the pile of fiction; you'll never know which points you in the right direction. what do you want to believe? |
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