the pink tress

Hey, One morning you get up and realise that you’re not obliged to be nice to the world. Not obliged to wish good morning or smile at your neighbour, or pass the ball of those cute annoying kids that came your way and could have hit you in the head, or listen to your colleagues’ lame, repetitive jokes that make no sense to you (o what if the world is cracking up, I don’t wanna smile dude leave alone laugh…u suck). Yes these are the days you walk with a frown on your brow and it actually does you good. These are the days when am not waiting for some ‘fun’ time with my ‘friends’ in the evening, but jus waiting so desperately for the pink trees to bloom, so desperately that it makes me stand beneath them and ask ‘why wont you bloom, you fucking god dammed thing?’ ‘You make me cry, bloom for bloody holy sake’ and then you wonder how crazy is that? Is it dangerous? But who cares? Nobody is even watching. The lane so dark….the dogs are asleep, the shops are closed. And suddenly you find that merriness, you have been longing for….but the trees haven’t bloomed. I once read a story named ‘the master piece’, where the kid assumes that he will die once the last leaf on the tree sheds, as if there as some correlation between his thin life and the dying tree in the thunderstorm ………………….when will you guys bloom, I wanna see your blush pink colour. Or may be….. you think your not obliged to be nice to people…in that case I totally understand. People have done no good to you….they took the mud away from you, they burned you with halogen street lights and no one waters you except for the rains. People have done no good to me either; they made me one of them. You still think your life sucks? Not that I envy your life…..you don’t have many choices do you? At least I have…… I have a choice to decide when to stop all this, when to change all this……….a choice I never asked for, a choice I don’t have the strength for. I might not have done the good but I never wished for the bad, spare my cowardice will you…….and just once, please, bloom. I can’t wait one more year to pass, before I see you bloom. Yours truly Bystander

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