this story is based on fiction that unfortunately fits the fact.
it's just something that we have to lived everyday.
we saw everyday.
we heard everywhere.
it's called life.
ups and downs. lefts and rights. or should i say wrongs and rights?
one second you're the destroyed, the next second you found yourself become the destroyer.
it's just another basic things in life.
killed or kill.
be the victim or be the victim-maker.
why do we have to go down all the way just to realize, oh, it's the wrong way.
i should've gone the other way.
why do we have to feels what it likes to be hurt before we stopped hurting others?
if you knew what it feels like to be hurt, you wouldn't hurt someone, would you?
so there she is, looking aimlessly to the street full of flowers.
why did she have to lived among the flowers?
she's not beautiful, no.
the flowers keep walking.
she keep staring.
somehow her eyes stuck to a corner.
not so far away from the flowers-crowd.
not so many flowers there. seems cozy.
she move her legs. getting closer.
she sits. sighs.
finally, completely alienated.
just when she started to lean her heads to the wall, someflower sees her.
stare at her.
she look the flower back.
and the flower getting closer.
'excuse me, walls. are you available?'
she amazed. stunned.
she believe the flower sees her.
then why, why?
why the flower still asks the wall if he's available?
she begin to stand up.
she walks away.
she's hurts.
she sees a mirror.
she watches her reflection.
yep. she's a flower-head too.
she just didn't bring the colors too much.
she thinks it's probably because she likes gray.
she's hurts.
she's a flower too.
yeah.
but she's being hurts by other flower.
where's that things meet any sense?
time goes. it never stop.
some flowerday, she meet with the flower from the other day.
the flower sitting and leaning to a beautiful wall.
she thinks of giving the flower the same thing the flower gave her.
her mind tickles.
revenge. no. it's not. it's just treating that flower the way she treats me.
her mind made up.
she's getting closer to the flower.
three step more.
two step.
she stop.
one step from the flower.
she stop.
it didn't feels right.
so she turns right.
the flower still leaning on the beautiful wall.
