Sophie's World
Sophia sits at the kitchen counter with a cigarette in one hand attempting to write. She stares at the huge watermelon her roommate brought home. She wonders what to write about today.
Her head is filled with stories she is dying to tell. It has been too long since she last wrote and she wondered if she could finally finish one today. You see, Sophia does not have any problems coming up with topics and opening paragraphs. What she finds so difficult is to finish what she started.
Sophia's life is quite interesting. She has traveled many places, met too many people, and had even more adventures. But she always gets stumped for words when she reaches the ending. You will notice it in her few published works. There is something about her endings that are slightly askew. As if she finished them just for the sake of.
As she stubs off her first cigarette, she thinks "what's the point?". Sophia has had an awful day, no different from the other days she have had since she returned to the place she lovingly calls hell. You would say she might be lonely, and you would be right. Bored would be correct too. And if you knew where she has been and who she was with just the previous month, you would nod in full understanding and say, "Oh I see."
But enough about Sophia's dreadful mood and let's focus on her. That is what she wants - to be the focus. She wants to be the centre of attention, to be pampered and cared for, to be treated like a princess who can do no wrong, to be understood unconditionally despite her erratic behavior. Yes, she craves all of this because right now she feels as if no one can see right through her. No one is patient enough to see beyond what she is willing to show. And this is her way of screaming.
She lights up another cigarette while struggling with jumbled words in her head. "How do I explain how I feel and what I need without actually saying it? I needn't say it out loud, do I? Those who claim to love me should know instantly that something's wrong. They should know what to do."
Alas, Sophia has delusions that her friends and family are psychics. To give her credit, she did try to reach out to other people without giving too much away. As usual, she was sidestepping her way into admission and was misunderstood - as always. She felt defeated and disappointed, which everyone in their right mind knows, is a bad combination.
As she watches the smoke from her cigarette waft slowly towards the open window, she fights the urge to turn on her phone that she angrily turned off an hour ago. She needed silence to give her clarity. But clarity was lost somewhere inside her jungle of emotions.
Will she be finally able to write a complete story today? We shall see. Perhaps she will but I'm sure the ending will be slightly askew as always. Just like her.
Her head is filled with stories she is dying to tell. It has been too long since she last wrote and she wondered if she could finally finish one today. You see, Sophia does not have any problems coming up with topics and opening paragraphs. What she finds so difficult is to finish what she started.
Sophia's life is quite interesting. She has traveled many places, met too many people, and had even more adventures. But she always gets stumped for words when she reaches the ending. You will notice it in her few published works. There is something about her endings that are slightly askew. As if she finished them just for the sake of.
As she stubs off her first cigarette, she thinks "what's the point?". Sophia has had an awful day, no different from the other days she have had since she returned to the place she lovingly calls hell. You would say she might be lonely, and you would be right. Bored would be correct too. And if you knew where she has been and who she was with just the previous month, you would nod in full understanding and say, "Oh I see."
But enough about Sophia's dreadful mood and let's focus on her. That is what she wants - to be the focus. She wants to be the centre of attention, to be pampered and cared for, to be treated like a princess who can do no wrong, to be understood unconditionally despite her erratic behavior. Yes, she craves all of this because right now she feels as if no one can see right through her. No one is patient enough to see beyond what she is willing to show. And this is her way of screaming.
She lights up another cigarette while struggling with jumbled words in her head. "How do I explain how I feel and what I need without actually saying it? I needn't say it out loud, do I? Those who claim to love me should know instantly that something's wrong. They should know what to do."
Alas, Sophia has delusions that her friends and family are psychics. To give her credit, she did try to reach out to other people without giving too much away. As usual, she was sidestepping her way into admission and was misunderstood - as always. She felt defeated and disappointed, which everyone in their right mind knows, is a bad combination.
As she watches the smoke from her cigarette waft slowly towards the open window, she fights the urge to turn on her phone that she angrily turned off an hour ago. She needed silence to give her clarity. But clarity was lost somewhere inside her jungle of emotions.
Will she be finally able to write a complete story today? We shall see. Perhaps she will but I'm sure the ending will be slightly askew as always. Just like her.
whispered by E-vil at 11:34 PM
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