State of chaotic and my dear

I haven’t got the urge to write anything recently, it’s not that I was depleted of idea but I just don’t feel like writing anything. Sometimes, I think there is this invisible balance in me; either I’m a writer or am I a forced-to-be-hardcore-work-overtime technical consultant. Consultant is a nice name, but generically consultant does programming, back to the root, IT field I am in. I seem to find myself standing on a wall, wall that separates two sides from me. I will be either at one side or the other side of the wall. However strictly speaking, I could be standing on a pivot point, where the walls extend out in many direction, separate the space into many portions, just imagine a pizza. To have fallen into which side of the wall enclosed space, I have least authority in the decision, or I can say my nature, mind state and my subconscious that decide where I should be. I think it is perfectly logical, for one to have a state of a mind while losing the other, but not completely, it is just imbalance. I can’t help but to recall to a scene where me and my dear, standing at the entrance of a shopping department, discussing about being illogical or imaginary as a fiction writer and at the same time as logical as a programmer, there we walked beyond the magnetic sensor and –cut- no more relevant topic I could recall. Until this point, I have forgotten why I need to start on things like schizophrenia. It must have been the ‘Good-bye’ that triggered this state of mind; I never like the word good-bye, why not someone says good night, even ‘see you again’ could slash a gap in me, it leave me out in cold and pain. It reminds me of my dear going south, she was not my dear though, but I just feel warm thinking that. She took the escalator down as I watched her in a distance, we were not long distance friend, but it was just lonely seeing her leaving, a feeling suddenly weighted like tones of icy cold water, then I wrote about ‘Saying good-bye like a baby’. The wall paper of old Kyoto vaguely registered itself in my mind, the chattering of crowded still faintly audible, sound of wood diner wares, the commercial Chinese restaurant on my left through the overhead glass window, her smile, her beautiful face. All still vividly clear but far away. The paper cup direction, but I can’t remember a single word she said. The memory escaped from me, with no newer memory to hold upon the old one, it will just empty out and soon it leaves only me, and my mind.

I closed my eyes. All that I could summon out was images of my dear, her white shirt with my favorite illustration. And how long since I last saw her wearing that? It should be months ago and it should be just once she wore it. She didn’t have too many white color clothes in her wardrobe, I came to realize, and did she merely has that as the only one white shirt. Nothing more, her solar system earrings dangling in front of my eyes in midst of my mind, but I could not picture the earring on her earlobes. I missed her earlobes or might as well say that I miss her so much.

My mind was at a chaos, with a bit of drowsiness. The chaotic reminds me of play card, like people shuffling cards but cards have got limit while my mind is a boundless mess. An imperfect world to live in, I just love it.