HOPELESS [REWRITING]

PATTERN THREE;

i'm sorry, i haven't been motivated enough to update.
also; i just finished my finals.
i'm trying, but it's not like i have active readers so sksksmsms—

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after quite a bit of time his mind ran out of thoughts, yoongi pulled out his earphones and sighed. was he angry? was he frustrated? he didn't know. what he did know was that something was off; it was quiet. eyes filled with curiousity wandered all over the place, the cans were there, the ugly painting was there but he - he was not there―

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☆';

"that's pretty not ugly. that's actually really good."

angry words, a lot of angry words.
imagine them, very big and angry letters, which our brain recognizes as words. not sentences.
just words.
there were a lot of letters, a lot of letters formed words, some even a sentence— but never finished sentences, always cut off.
there were also sad words, happy words.
there were words.

it was a formless poem, without a defined shape.
hoseok saw a lot of shapes in it, yoongi only saw emotions.

yoongi couldn't find the words to speak, which was quite ironic because he seemed to have enough of them to angrily plaster them on paper.

but he didn't have to speak, for hoseok the confusion etched on the other's face was more than enough. he understood.
without another word his eyes locked themselves on the paper, scanning it thoroughly. they weren't searching for anything specific, they were swimming in it.

"yours is ugly."
yoongi tried, he tried a lot of things.
he didn't succeed, almost never does.
"thanks!"

silence.

"thanks?"
hoseok nodded. his nod said a lot, but it didn't say anything ironic or harmful. he was genuinely thanking him.
it was weird, wasn't that supposed to be criticism? shouldn't that hurt?

hoseok saw the confusion, yet he didn't let out a word to explain it.
he just smiled, which was a much better explanation.
without another thought, hoseok stood up again and walked back to his wall.

yoongi's eyes scimmed over the wall, as if they didn't recognise it as his ex-wall. if walls had emotions, this one would surely cry.

a small frown on his face— where? you might ask, because the human face is big. his eyes were frowning, so were his eyebrows, his entire face was frowning.
a frown.
he didn't understand..or — did he?
he hated art when he didn't understand it.

it was just unprofessional spraying, it was ugly and looked like a mess of noodles on a wall. angry curls and lines and dots and clouds and— an ugly mess.

"is it supposed to look ugly?"
the question rolled off his tongue, followed by his confusion.
the question sounded dumb, but hoseok didn't laugh.

"does it look like it's supposed to look ugly?"
he would ask. but he didn't. hoseok just shrugged.

"y'know, poem boy. i know what poets like you think. but art isn't supposed to look good. art isn't supposed to be beautiful. that's not art,  that's just a part of it. what art really is— "
he paused, scanning yoongi and shaking the head.
he shook his own head, yet it felt like he was shaking a hundred more.

he didn't say all that either, as stated before, hoseok just shrugged.

"it's something that has lost its real purpose. we use art to express ourselves. not everything is beautiful, not everything can be beautiful. not everything should be beautiful."

he shrugged. he only shrugged.
he shrugged really hard.

"emotions aren't beautiful. if you portray everything that way, then you're a liar. that isn't pure nor beautiful nor aesthetically pleasing."

shrugging.
just a small motion of lifting and dropping your shoulders.
that's all he did.

yoongi wanted to say something, confused by the boy.

"what even is that supposed to portray or say?"
now, hoseok couldn't just shrug. for a poet this small guy really did have some nerves.

"can you call yourself an artist if you can't understand or interpret on your own? do i have to help?"
yoongi stayed still, not knowing whether to feel provoked or helpless. yoongi often felt both of those emotions at the same time, but right now he just wasn't sure.  the strange graffiti boy was smiling whilst spitting his word in a nice but- passive aggressive way.
he was getting mixed signals.

"sure, explain it to me. dear, dear intellectual graffiti boy."

hoseok popped off the cap of the can and shook it, stepping closer to the wall. he breathed in and out and sprayed.
just spraying.
first slow, then fast.
spraying filled the air, well— the sound of it did.
until he screamed, it wasn't loud, it was quiet.
it sounded kind of awkward, but yoongi didn't care.
he didn't dare laughing.
it sounded painful and frustrated.
why was he being so quiet?

yoongi finally understood.
hoseok didn't have to speak a single word to make him understand, it just clicked.

"let them out."
yoongi pleaded him, trying to make his words sound like he wasn't pleading.

he stopped.
the can stopped.
the sounds stopped.
his feelings didn't stop.
he screamed and threw the can with all his might, smashing a little bit of the wall— again, if it had feelings, it would cry for sure.
awkward silence washed over them after hoseok let his emotions slip a little bit too much.

yoongi finally understood what hoseok meant.
his words swam around in his thoughts as if they were the most confusing thing he has ever heard.
he almost felt awful for not understanding.

"i'm sorry,"
he wanted to say,
"it's really ugly, they're ugly. i understand."
but he didn't.

it was quiet.
both of them awkwardly watched the painting, not saying a word and just swimming in the uncomfortable quiet.
opening up was embarrassing, even if it was through art.
emotions were embarrassing, how they effect you is embarrassing, too.

"thank you, really."
hoseok was leaving and for the first time in hours yoongi didn't want the stranger gone.
yoongi was lonely.

he doesn't trust, he doesn't talk.
no one understands him, he thinks, no one likes him, he cries.
but for the first time in forever he felt like it might be the other way around.
he felt guilty.

meeting someone who is misunderstood, when you are, too is pretty rare.
even more when you misunderstood them as well.

you complain and complain about people who don't help you, about people who misunderstand or hurt you or about people who do this and that and everything.

"don't they know what they're doing?" you ask yourself.
ask yourself;
but do i?

it's a horrible experience; noticing that you might be doing something what you're complaining about when others do it.
how often did you do it? are you a hypocrite?

yoongi hated himself for only noticing now.

but it's okay.
he's human.
we're human.
it's pretty complicated.

hoseok would've answered.
he normally would go on and on about his views, about how it was okay, about how it's no problem, it's his hobby; expressing things.

he smiled, shook his head and left.

i'm an hopeless idiot, yoongi thought.
hoseok agreed.

☆';

[ did my writing style change or smth???
is it okay;;??????
fucking help.m e

is this okay??
i need feedback or smth;;
pls share this story, too, it'd boost my motivation sosososo much!]