/bs/ - backstory

I often think about the trees. But why is that? They are all across what I think, hiding under carpets, paint themselves as the walls, and yet they are clear in the sight. Maybe it is obvious enough, trees are all around and their noticeability is just that, multitudes of them exist and we adore them for this, for their beauty

The time is something like the end of autumn. The sleet makes itself known, just as the new decorations: snow, ice, cold. It is the new season which changes too quickly from the red leaves to frosted ground, and then, to the ice. The mornings such as these are always felt new, clean in a way, exciting in this way of a change

The school is still going on, the last year in fact. Not long for the graduation. On my way to the school, everything looks blue and feels fresh, and in this quite pleasant feeling I find the beginning of the day. In school, nothing is that interesting, as it was always. Not too bad, I sit across the whom Ive always did, and the classes were too boring for me to pay any attention

Well, out of boringness, and some feeling of connection, I lay my head on my mate's shoulders. She doesnt mind, and that makes my day even better than it was. Sure, the school was daunting. But it had its moments, moments like these

Then the last class has finished, the bell would ring, and I would go home, hopefully undisturbed. Not today. Right when I got my jacket from the checkroom, I get teased by this girl. We played a little, ran about the building, with me pulling her scarf. And then, we would go home together, but this time, we would go nearer her home and she would ask if I want to go with her to her place. I would say: "No, I have to go"

At that time, it didnt feel wrong. After that, I went to a some kind of a mini park, where you could see squirrels run and, perhaps, try to feed them from your hand. I just liked to walk around, and I went through this place often. It is a nice place, like a dense forest, but with nice trees and when you walk around and see people going here and there, it felt live

Then I would go down the city, and there, at the path I liked to go frequently, there were, too, trees. Not a park, just a pathway, but a nice one. Well, described crudely, it was a forest inside of a concrete jungle, it had in itself a playground, a school, numerous blocks, slopes, walkways in all places, and it it felt squeezed, as if the blocks were tall walls and hid this place from everyone, making it a little secret

Then, if I get lost in the flow of time, it will get dark and Ill have to go home. I put on my headphones and walk around, the blue sheen that was, this sense of freshness, it would transform itself to something other. I liked to just stroll around and listen to music that I liked. It was the best time, the best of the both worlds. In a sense, at this point in walking, Ive felt unreal, in an unknown place: in a fantasy world and yet, here, in this place, in this town. The wastness of snow made me feel mystical, remote, important in a way. Then, under the yellow lights, I would feel nostalgia. Warm feelings for something. Longing for something that I couldnt easily explain or even ever thought about. I felt good, and that was enough. This pallete of feeling that I remember now was nothing short of mythical, sometimes dark, concealed, sometimes just remote and brilliant, like lights

Well, isnt the life beautiful? If regret had a color, it would be red, just like the cheeks when you realize how wrong you were and how a shame that was when one time you couldve made a good choice but youve blew it… and now all dat is left is nostalgia and regret. And yet, thats not wat Im nostalgic about, not the shoulders. The trees, the mystic experience, the myth in the snow. This is really wat Im nostalgic about, this is really the thing where I feel the intensity of living. And about my mate, Im just sad, and sadness is like teardrops, they are transparent and clear. Sadness doesnt have a color, just like tears which blur what you write in desperation, sadness eludes color, dillutes it, makes everything more like it is: transparent, clear… and never more understandable, never more forgiving, only demanding more and never giving