The Secret Website
That picture of you...
I could believe what Mike wrote... Now I felt all... confused!
I read another post.
How many memories, in a picture...
How many non-spoken words, in a picture...
How many wakened feelings, in that play of light and shadow...
And who's the person? A relative? A friend? A boyfriend? A husband? A son? Someone we love?
And who took the picture? Did they take it by themselves? Did the boyfriend take it? Or the husband? Or the son?
And what were they thinking, while the picture was being taken? Were they striking a pose? Were they smiling? Were they sad? Were they with someone else? Or were they alone? Did they know that moment was going to be imprinted on a film?
Were they thinking about who was taking the picture? Were they thinking about the lunch waiting for them? Were they thinking about the friend they hadn't seen in so long? Were they thinking about the last TV show? Were they thinking about the shopping list?
How many questions...
The best photographers can even capture the soul of that person. Those special pictures, the one which you look at them and in that person's eyes you see every kind of feeling. And when you get to know something about that person which you never knew before, you look at the picture again, and there it is, that particular thing had always been there.
A picture is a real "still image" of life. How many picture do we take on holiday, without noticing that they will become wonderful memories. How many pictures have we taken that now make us feel hurt, make us cry. How many pictures will we take, without knowing the importance that they will have?
What were you thinking about, in that picture?
That look so illegible...
I thought I was able, now, to understand someone's feeling by their eyes. Maybe I was wrong. I can't, not with you. I never can. Because in your eyes I see so many things. So so many, you confuse me. Too many times I've looked at that picture, trying in vain to understand you. If I close my eyes, I can still see it, that picture. How often I've been looking at it...
It's true, I now believe that I'm not able to understand you fully. No matter how hard I try, maybe I'll never succeed in that. And there's always that something in your eyes that I just can't decipher. And I'm afraid to take a guess, I'm afriad I might deceive myself, I'm afraid to find something that doesn't exist.
And all of these thoughts just by looking at a picture. A piece of paper with your image on it. A mere piece of paper, but so precious to me... because when I can't have you here to cheer me up, or I can't call you up... I then pick up your picture and think of you. Of what you'd say to me to make me smile. And if I can call you, then that's even better. It's enough for me to hear you saying your crap of the day, to make my day.
How low have I sunk, huh?
Oh well... Gosh, to read this over again, I sound like a twelve-years-old in love! But if I really was, I wouldn't worry about these things, would I? I would just drool over the said picture, and that's it. But I'm not gonna do that, because I'm not like that. I don't drool, but most of all I'm not a twelve-years-old in love.
And you know what all this makes me think?
So take the photographs and still frames in your mind, hang it on a shelf in good health and good time. Tattoos of memories and dead skin on trial, for what it’s worth, it was worth all the while...
It’s something unpredictable, but in the end is right... I hope you had the time of your life...
Oh Mike...
I've been so stupid not to notice this before. I had eyes for Tre only, and I couldn't tell you. I didn't even take notice of your presence in the same room sometimes.
How selfish have I been?
And after all this time, you never changed. Your feelings never changed... And now that you know that I love Tre, what are you going to do?
What am I going to do?
I'm really confused, Mike.
God, if you really exist, gimme a sign!
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK
I jumped in surprise. I closed my laptop and walked to the door. I opened it.
"H-hey Bill."
"Oh, hey."
"Can I come in? I've... I've gotta tell you something."
I read another post.
How many memories, in a picture...
How many non-spoken words, in a picture...
How many wakened feelings, in that play of light and shadow...
And who's the person? A relative? A friend? A boyfriend? A husband? A son? Someone we love?
And who took the picture? Did they take it by themselves? Did the boyfriend take it? Or the husband? Or the son?
And what were they thinking, while the picture was being taken? Were they striking a pose? Were they smiling? Were they sad? Were they with someone else? Or were they alone? Did they know that moment was going to be imprinted on a film?
Were they thinking about who was taking the picture? Were they thinking about the lunch waiting for them? Were they thinking about the friend they hadn't seen in so long? Were they thinking about the last TV show? Were they thinking about the shopping list?
How many questions...
The best photographers can even capture the soul of that person. Those special pictures, the one which you look at them and in that person's eyes you see every kind of feeling. And when you get to know something about that person which you never knew before, you look at the picture again, and there it is, that particular thing had always been there.
A picture is a real "still image" of life. How many picture do we take on holiday, without noticing that they will become wonderful memories. How many pictures have we taken that now make us feel hurt, make us cry. How many pictures will we take, without knowing the importance that they will have?
What were you thinking about, in that picture?
That look so illegible...
I thought I was able, now, to understand someone's feeling by their eyes. Maybe I was wrong. I can't, not with you. I never can. Because in your eyes I see so many things. So so many, you confuse me. Too many times I've looked at that picture, trying in vain to understand you. If I close my eyes, I can still see it, that picture. How often I've been looking at it...
It's true, I now believe that I'm not able to understand you fully. No matter how hard I try, maybe I'll never succeed in that. And there's always that something in your eyes that I just can't decipher. And I'm afraid to take a guess, I'm afriad I might deceive myself, I'm afraid to find something that doesn't exist.
And all of these thoughts just by looking at a picture. A piece of paper with your image on it. A mere piece of paper, but so precious to me... because when I can't have you here to cheer me up, or I can't call you up... I then pick up your picture and think of you. Of what you'd say to me to make me smile. And if I can call you, then that's even better. It's enough for me to hear you saying your crap of the day, to make my day.
How low have I sunk, huh?
Oh well... Gosh, to read this over again, I sound like a twelve-years-old in love! But if I really was, I wouldn't worry about these things, would I? I would just drool over the said picture, and that's it. But I'm not gonna do that, because I'm not like that. I don't drool, but most of all I'm not a twelve-years-old in love.
And you know what all this makes me think?
So take the photographs and still frames in your mind, hang it on a shelf in good health and good time. Tattoos of memories and dead skin on trial, for what it’s worth, it was worth all the while...
It’s something unpredictable, but in the end is right... I hope you had the time of your life...
Oh Mike...
I've been so stupid not to notice this before. I had eyes for Tre only, and I couldn't tell you. I didn't even take notice of your presence in the same room sometimes.
How selfish have I been?
And after all this time, you never changed. Your feelings never changed... And now that you know that I love Tre, what are you going to do?
What am I going to do?
I'm really confused, Mike.
God, if you really exist, gimme a sign!
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK
I jumped in surprise. I closed my laptop and walked to the door. I opened it.
"H-hey Bill."
"Oh, hey."
"Can I come in? I've... I've gotta tell you something."
♠ ♠ ♠
ok, so, I know that Mike's post was actually what I posted a few days ago as a One-Shot story.BUT
i decided it would fit nicely in this story.
sooo i'm gonna delete that one shot.
waddya think?
who's the person who came to Billie's house?