Today is Friday which can be considered as the first day of weekend although people still have to go to work. But they seem to have woken up later than the previous weekdays, gone working a little bit later and made the streets jammed much later.
I woke up at my familiar time, checked my phone even though I knew there would have been no messages. Well you know, sometimes we just hold on to hope desperately. Having confirmed my intuitive was right, I went downstairs and made myself a bottle of milk coffee then hurriedly did the personal hygiene. Getting myself dressed all in black and finally started riding to university around 7AM. I am living in Saigon, and if you have ever watched any video about Saigon traffic jams, that was how it went. However, my district 8 is even more crowded right at the corner to turn to the Java bridge. Buses, coaches, cars, they blocked our bikes from moving on. Once you manage to get on the bridge, you are totally free for about 3 minutes until you slide down to the streets again. We have 2 directs leaded by the Java, one is Hai Thuong Lan Ong street, the other is Vo Van Kiet. I rode down Vo Van Kiet and what was front of my eyes was such a flock of ants. Hundreds or even thousands of people poured out the road from the left side, while I had to stabilize my bike and sided to the right. Usually, Vo Van Kiet is a paradise for motorbikers but an inferno for cars, vans and trucks. Except for today. I rode with the feeling of someone can accidentally bangs in me anytime, fortunately no one did. Upon my head, sun sears scorchingly just exactly the way I always hate the most. Sunlight blurred my sight behind my amber sunglasses, I felt a daze, my mind went blank and even myself noticed that. I was riding there, on Vo Van Kiet street, straightforward to district 1, but my thoughts were wandering somewhere else out of my current place. I was stuck, in traffic. Losing fuels while my bike groaned.
/All roads lead to Rome/
That was how they said. At last, I arrived at my destination 20 minutes earlier. Classmates are now getting to know each other better, and they also get along so well. They talked, discussed, joked, laughed, all the things I thought I was supposed to carry on. I bet you already got it through, I was supposed to, nevertheless, I do not own that ability. Or else, one day in my sleep my inner soul had cut off my laryxn. I just can not talk so naturally to others anymore, just like here how I am. Speaking of myself became so frustrating, so troubling yet I hope others to understand. And of course they never do. How?
Then why hoping for something so unreal and impossible? I guess that is all what I have been longed for, an impossible. I found myself a weirdo when I was trying to pull out my deep thoughts and state them in every piece of my passions. Art, fictions, designs, etc., just because I am unable to voice them up with my own sound. I have been borrowing such indirect forms of expression to tell my heart, but where, where in those words and paintings that my heart laid on? Calling for help pathetically, hanging up myself and then cut the rope, craving for security but mess up my only peace.
Lunch time has just passed, last class of the week already started. But sun keeps burning my nerves like hell. Studying with the high rate of heart beat and the chasm in my head feels like you are drown within your ocean.
After a while now I will continue, sunlight has been switched off, and the upper firmament is crying.
A few more minutes went by, and rain has stopped. Gloomy sky seems to be beautiful as it always is. 1 hour and 30 minutes later or further, class will end and I will go home. Saigon is especially hustling and bustling on Friday night, because after work people will go to enjoy their weekend recess for certain. District 8 will be crowded again, should I come home real quick or calmly? Should I let my soul roam somewhere again until I get home?
I just can't help.