Tuesday, March 24, 2009
There he sits in his chair, the world on his shoulders. Time may slowly pass, hour by hour, but his mind races in overtime, stopping for no distraction. He rubs his sleepy face into his hands, only to resurface and reveal a glassy-eyed stare...two deep pools of endless emerald sea grass. She would think they look like sea grass. His gaze at the computer screen shows no extreme interest in what tries so hard to keep his attention, but his thoughtfulness radiates from every pore. "What controls the inner workings of his mind?" the girl wonders and watches on, encaptured by his inner depth. There's a longing, a missing piece to who he is- a mystery never decoded, never pursued. The girl suddenly had the deepest urge to uncover the mystery of the boy...to see behind the troubles that trespass his mind, the padlock to his gated soul. To her it seemed his dark was the way and his light the place, but then who is it to figure the workings of one undiscovered?