filed: response
from: @avinzas
Oliver looked like a dying pup; with the way his head tilted to the side, fringe covering his innocent blue eyes. Someone was curious about his mind? Well that is a first.
He always imagined that if he was going to exploit his thoughts it would either be through his art or poetry. Suddenly he feels that a nice glass of red would be a nice calming setting he needs to tell this. Lips pursed into a ‘o’ slowly as if he was about to tell the most elaborate treasure-filled story ever. When really it is as satire as sodomy. “My mind is a bit of a bully.” Mumbling softly in his thick accent.
Maybe he has an inferiority complex towards the way he talks. Sometimes he wished he was more fluent in Korean. Then again lately since he’s been living in Korea, his pronunciation was much better, but it also meant that his English was becoming rusty. The struggles of maintaining multilingual memory. Oliver rubbed the nape of his neck, leaning back against the nearest wall with one foot propped on it with his knee bent , trying the facade of cool was overrated for him by now. Yet his actions say otherwise.
Oliver was playing with matches that he sometimes carries with him when he stole them from local ajhussi’s who smoke fags. Oh right, – what you call cigarettes. Blowing one flame out, stench of burnt foul wood and grey smoke withering into nothing. It reminded him of a metaphor, lyrical reference. One from his favorite band.
“ Cause I don’t need any more friends
And another kiss like a fire on pavement
We’ll burn it down till the end “
“I guess you can say that is on my mind. In the music mode. But a million things run into my mind every moment. But I guess a jukebox is playing in my mind…probably because I don’t want to think about my responsibilities, and how much more pain I got to suffer as I beat off to some porn. You don’t wanna wonder what goes on in this mind. “ Oliver shook his head with a playful, shy laugh, wavering his hands trying to dismiss the idea now. He didn’t want her to think weirdly of him for the way his mind works.
To say the two of them were close would’ve been a lie, despite her fascination for the said male, something about him had intrigued her, his way of carrying himself was highly interesting. The occasional comments and actions that came with his every day behavior, she had yet to get acclimated to them-- something she wondered if she ever could. He had a mind of his own it seemed, compared to her simple existence.
Allowing her body to slide down, she accompanied the male with her back resting against the wall as well. The metal soles of her protheses tapping against the tiles of the floor, leaving an eerie sound. She wasn’t fazed by it, these artificial limbs had become part of her every day life, each sound and each moment she was so used to-- this accompanied with the stares she had to deal with on a daily base, most of which gazes filled with pity and sadness. As though she was an innocent lamb, unable to take care of herself, unable to live her life like any other. What a bother. She was perfectly able to get through life, sure, a few disadvantages here and there but in comparison to someone else-- someone, let’s say someone dyslectic. She wouldn’t have more struggles than a person like that, or so she thought of herself, she hated being looked upon with pity after all.
Gaze flickers to the small fire around the head of the match, though the fire soon turned into nothing but spoke causing her to follow the trail. Though she soon broke out of her own thoughts to focus more on those he voiced. He seemed complicated, everything about him came off as though she’d never really understand. She was a simple mind living in a big world, no worries and nothing to truly bother her. Those with more complex minds, there were a puzzle to her, one she couldn’t solve no matter how many hints she asked for, and his response to her question proved this just one more time. ‘The more you speak, the more I get intrigued.’ She responds, a soft smile curling the corners of her lips, she doesn’t break the gaze she fixed on his face.
She stretched her legs out in front of her, fingers toying with the ends of her shirt, wondering what responsibilities he would have, those so big he’d rather keep his mind off of them than to face them and get over with it. She was the kind to do anything at the moment of it popping up, to avoid later stress and worries, so why wouldn’t he. She never could understand others’ way of thinking, in her mind it was all so simple, for each problem there was a solution, one not always fun but if followed the problems would’ve been solved just like that. Why was it always so hard for people get.
‘Why are you suffering,
why are you in pain then?’