“Fifteen flares inside those ocean eyes, your ocean eyes.”——Billie Eilish “Ocean Eyes”
Monday. Apirl 4th.
A nunnery? Did he mean the whorehouse, where naked girls dance to please the costumers? Or did he mean the real nunnery, where I should become numb to the world and never have the chance to marry? Am I bothering him that much? A nunnery……. I thought I might be the only one who could keep him sane. After his father’s death, he drowned into deep grief and bathed with hatred. I can still remember his clear eyes, only love was shown to me when we made eye contacts. Those blue eyes used to deliver love, but now I can see no more. His mouth used to chant beautiful poems for me, portaiting his gentle love, but now it is all craziness, madness, and ravings. His hands used to hold the swords, displaying elegant moves, but now he slaps, punches, and shakes.
I couldn’t believe he spitted those venom to my faces, because the love that I felt between his arms was so true. I don’t know why he didn’t belive my virginity and related it to my visage. He should know I only loved him, and I only slept on one man’s bed except my father, which is his. Oh, I never wanted to be the “breeder of sinners”! If possible, I would like to be the breeder of Hamlet—–his wife. His words were his knife, cutting my faces, stabbing my heart, and destroying my dignity. My lover, he was a liberal lord, but fading to a revengeful devil.
Should I help him? Should I give him a hand, pulling him out of his grief and madnees? But what if I am not strong enough so he drag me down instead? What if I turn to a creature like him, full of hatred and anger? Is this worth it? I don’t know, I guess I will just take his words anyway. Maybe that can ease his pain.
If my angel will not return, I will dance with the devil.
Tuesday. Apirl 19th.
“Help, I lost myself again, but I remember you.” ——Billie Eilish “Six Feet Under”
This cannot be real.
My father is dead. I saw the cut on his body, blood messed with rotten flesh. They covered a piece of cloth over his corpse. The blood dye it to red. I can see the blood, I can see it even I close my eyes. Why, why the world treat me like this? My lover lost his mind and was sent to England. Now my father is taken from me! What did I do wrong! Do I deserve this? GOOD LORD, would you open your damned eyes and show some mercy?!
I can feel it, something deep inside my soul is damaging my reason and tearing my conscience apart.
I need you, Hamlet. Come back. Where are you. I have some flowers for you.
Would you like rosemary, daisy, or violets?
Saturday. Apirl 23rd.
I can’t stand it.