04-04-22, 18:21 PM

the body loses water when you jog, so you have none left for tears.

qiwu lost may on april fool's day.
and i lost my senses. insanity was building up and slowly starting to spill. and like a can of sour, expired pineapple i let out the most horrible things using the acridest juices in my mind to spit out empty, venomous words.
maybe i am just another can of pineapple.

i did a minuscule thing i don't think anyone would consider courageous. it was a feat to me regardless; to walk around my neighborhood alone. to let my instincts take control and to get lost in familiar alleyways and streets for once. to lose myself in the crowds and the sloppily painted pavements and the smallest pieces of rubble i step on.

i guess we all have our own versions of may in our own circumstances.
qiwu believed that may was worth losing pennies and getting stomachaches over. that may was worth multiple calls that resulted in dead ends and crackled air.
i guess my may is worth getting lost over. and nearly getting run over. and getting sh*tty car fumes spat all over my face over. and losing fluids inside my body over. am i even wording it right??? they're worth more than that, really.
i wonder if they'd even let me call them mine still. i think capturing someone's heart is a myth because the closest thing to that which you can really do is intertwine the most specific moments you've had with each other. but i guess to a certain extent there will be so many canned memories shared between the two of you that, like qiwu, you'd wonder if they'd have an expiry date too. and then wish that they'd be so non-perishable the can would last for centuries.

my throat was dry outside but it was better than having my chest constricted while being cooped up in my room. i think i nearly got a heart attack from staying inside and rethinking one too many things that could have gone better. throwing up and losing sleep and palpitating like crazy and wasting time. my may is worth more than these things. it's just that i always thought that pain over someone was a silly sensationalized teenage stereotype you'd see in media. what would i have known? i always stuck with flings and ended them before i could even count to ten to avoid getting hurt. i always plastered smiles upon hurt feelings out of the fear that no one will ever take me seriously. i never settled and lent my time and effort to anything that would make me attached to anything or anyone. all because i always wanted to peel the bandage off first. to be the one that never feels the sticky, painful end of the plaster. and i guess in this situation it's partially covering my wound and exposing me to the harsh realities of my defense mechanism. 

i looked around and wondered. do you think other people have their own mays?
i wonder what the definition of thirty pieces of canned pineapple is to them. do you think they'd like to join me for a jog too? do you think there are others like me who need to clear their heads? to always look forward and never towards the setting sun because then their hearts would start racing like crazy again? that they'd feel like the entirety of their chest cavity would explode if they look at familiar pink skies for even a millisecond?

but i'm stubborn. to an extent. so i looked anyway.

we don't have to talk.
could i just sit here?

and with all the strength i can muster i respect this request for rest even though it hurts. i jogged home. 
i sound utterly corny and stupid. my words lack the cadence and rhythm they possess. there is no skill or dexterity in these words. only regrets and too much pain my once fickle heart could ever handle. i wonder if, compared to he qiwu, i do end up getting back to room 702?

and maybe i get to find out if she likes pineapple. and maybe this time i'll never keep her waiting. makes them nervous.