Namjoon: 20 July Year 22

I flicked through the magazine advertisements then raised my head. A different face has been sitting at the window seat at the opposite table for several days. The heavy book, big bag, and white paper cup were similar, but it wasn’t her. My attention dropped to the magazine again. I had been looking at the same page for over an hour. Repetitive thoughts turned the words into unrecognizable letters. Why am I sitting here? The answer evaded me. Among people all absorbed in something, I was only lethargically fumbling through a magazine. I got impatient from my desire to start something. Not doing anything like this wasn’t right. 

 

I returned the magazine and entered a space between the bookshelves. The bookshelves were taller than me, and books were lined up and stuck in rows. Through the open window, the wind blew up the smell of books and dust in the air. I recalled my high school days. The times when my friends and I hung out together in the hideout classroom. Back then, there were books I read that had this smell. Can ‘the present me’ grow from ‘those days me’ even a little? I couldn’t readily confirm that. Anyway, I don’t even know if I am stuck in that time, stuck in that era. I moved toward the bookshelf across the way. I picked up a book that I had studied at that time. I had to start again. I had to start on the things I gave up on during that time, one by one, everything.

 

@shootinghearts_