There Was This Small Thing

And I’m here not knowing why I’m even trying to write when I know that there will only be one thing this will eventually lead to. Which is him, in case you are having a hard time guessing. Or perhaps it may be another him you don’t know yet but for sure, it’ll be a him existing in an obscure corner in this planet, probably knowing of my existence or just wishfully dreaming of another.

Perhaps it’ll be something else entirely because you know, words don’t mean what they should.

Now that that’s done with, I think my flavor of choice is about minute things. you see, I like small things. I don’t like thinking too big because if those big things don’t come true, big disappointments are waiting to smolder you. small things don’t hurt that much too. they hurt bit by bit until it becomes big. But before it becomes unmanageable, you can sort it out, piece by piece.

Small things don’t hurt, they only sting very deeply.

Like needles, small things can extend further with minimal damage. They are precise and leave small room for error. On the other hand, big things are clumsy and often easy to topple down. When big things fail, damage of a similar scale is to be expected. But of course, small things have their own way of being cruel. You see, they aim at the weakest spot and deal a concentrated amount of damage to it. like an Achilles’ heel, small things make you die from inside out.

I’ve been in love with small things for the better part of my life. Right now, there’s one small thing out there that shares the same sky as me. and perhaps there’s a small thread connecting us, just snuggly fit under our left ribs. and if a thousand miles were to come between us, one of our threads may break and then internal bleeding will ensue. For lack of fear of death, I fear being forgotten so I pray that this inconspicuous thread will not break. Not until the time comes that it should.

There is one small thing out there that has been the reason why the stars don’t shine as bright as they have been doing before. There is one small thing out there who took my writing and sealed it in a curio. Perhaps this small thing knows that it’s all that I have wanted since this journal began. But for sure, this small thing will come back home…either to me or to another.


About kyogakura
Bored 95% of the time.

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