an ouvre through the lens

051

floralia mori

Seeing the balmy clouds somehow eases the catastrophe creation.

Being on a plane is very anxious for me. I never knew what might happen in the air or I'm just really a scaredy-cat.

"You're still mad at her?" I didn't notice the presence of Sochina before she spoke. My gaze went to her instead of checking Mom's unending replies. I expected that she'll be looking at me. Instead, I saw her expecting her phone for a message from somebody.

"To Mom? I guess my answer will be anonymous. I can't really remember when I became furious, Soch," I replied to her innocently. I'm not sugarcoating my answer. I simply don't know to be feverish.

"You're right. You're the only one I absolutely can call a sweet soul," she looked at my side and showed me her warm smile.

"How about Bonnie? Isn't she a sweet soul?" I gave back the beam to her as it slowly turned into a questionable face. I saw her lowered at me.

"Scary, when did a diablo come to be honeyed? Enlighten me?" Sochina raised her right brow at me as if waiting for a logical explanation. I solely gave her a humorous grin.

As the flight goes with the gentle wind of the day and time. I can't simply ignore Sochina's aura. She looks uneasy and can't stop peeking at her phone.

"Soch, I know I'm out of the unseen pages of your life but keep in mind that I'm all ears, okay?" Out of the blues of the sun, I remind her softly. I let my body be covered by the miffy blanket I recall that it was a gift from a fan back then when I was still blinded by the fame- I shrugged off the thought of that. I don't want to be back of the smothering validation.

I'm about to doze off with the soothing fur of my blanket when Sochina suddenly opened a conversation that I was not expecting to hear from her.

"Flora, do you know that I have tons of questions about you? This might stand that I don't trust our companionship but that is not the point of why I'm telling this," I heard the certainty in her voice it is filled with captivity that she yearns to hear from her beloved friend.

"I don't know if you ever bawled your eyes out like a jar that was about to explode. even though you are already shattered inside you were still able to let out beholden broken fragments. I don't know if you have ever been mad or unhappy. I never caught a glimpse of you crying over a supreme gloom. I envy you for holding a lot of control over yourself."

"Do you ever feel like you are uncontrollable to your sentiments?" She continued.

I closed my eyes tightly and controlled my breathing as if it is a breakout from all of the abiding, piercing, scorching questions from her.

Am I that good at hiding the glorious blues?

Did I cry? Yes, bewildering stinging tears streamed down my cheeks.

Did I ever been mad? Yes, I've become furious with myself just because of the unending trouble I've caused to my own.

They can say I'm hard-headed because I rather stay lying with my anxiety for a while instead of trying to get out of the everlasting maze.

Everything is unfamiliar.

That's what makes us scared of the unknown.

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