Taehyung: 29 March Year 22

The gas station owner spat on the ground as he walked away. I laid on the ground curled up in a ball. I was doing some graffiti on the back wall of the gas station when the owner caught me and hit me, asking what I was doing. I rolled on the ground. Hitting is familiar, but it also wasn’t something that I was completely used to. 

 

I started graffiti a little while ago. I tried spraying on the wall with someone’s leftover spray can. I think it was yellow. I just carelessly sprayed and then looked up at my work. I looked at the vivid yellow paint on the gray wall for a bit and then picked up another color spray. For a long time, I sprayed the wall not knowing why. My hand stopped when all the spray cans were drained and empty. I hurled the cans and stood back. I was out of breath like I had been sprinting.

 

I didn’t know what meaning the colors on the wall had. What I did, why I did it. I didn’t know. There was just one little thing that I couldn’t say I didn’t know. I could guess that the colors were my heart. I had spewed my heart onto the wall. At first, I thought it was ugly. I thought it was dirty. It was foolish and useless and pathetic. I didn’t like it. I scraped away the half dried paint with my palm. I wanted to erase everything. Instead of erasing the paint, I smudged it into another color and mangled it into another shape. I sat against the wall. The problem wasn’t whether I liked it. The problem wasn’t whether it was beautiful or not. It was just me.

 

I lifted my body and coughed. Blood spattered on my palm as if my mouth burst. And then I saw someone’s hand pick up the spray can. I followed the hand and saw a face. It was Namjoon. I laughed. I didn’t realize I could see ghosts, I thought. He stuck out his hand. I just looked up at him. He pulled my hand and raised me up. His hand was warm.

 

@shootinghearts_