He did what he knew, he only knew what he did.
That must been his first ever philosophical principle he ever made. However, that's never going to bring him anywhere. For he didn't know what other were doing, he didn't do what others knew.
Isn't that the perfect loner attitude? I felt disgusted.
He was this boy who went to library every recess after eating on a sandwich with chocolate spread. In the library he read puzzle books, the type of adventure books with riddles and mazes of sorts.
He was filled with infatuation. I knew infatuation was hopeless love. He never knew what infatuation was, nor realise how hopeless.
He was a studious boy, at home after using computer. He would seclude himself in his room to do worksheets and sorts. And back to the computer.
Unlike other boys, he went Wikipedia, partly due to the fact he didn't have broadband. Online games and Youtube wasn't his norm.
And I felt that I really wasted my 6 years in my young life being that boy.
F*cking wasted...
The next day, I saw the boy. And while everyone else was playing Catching, there was he, bent down, head low, reading his book.
I went up behind him, I picked up a Bat and wanted to beat him out of existence. But then I stopped.
No, not this way. And I decided to help him.
After he graduated, I became a voice to him. I became a hissing and snarling voice. I became his joker. I laughed at his life that seemed like a joke. He was a joke but I'll never kill him. I gave him a butterfly knife in his mind for him whenever he needs it. He pointed it at the world and at himself at times.
I gave him a challenge. I gave him one more hopeless love. A hopeless love fated the start.
And 28 days later after the end, a few months later with his friends, weeks and days later...