章 5: Continuation of Thoughts
The sight has become a dreadful view in the eyes of William, and why? He is seeing something and failing to grasp the meaning of it. "What is this at all?" William babbled to himself.
Some peers of his school who do not know William were there, but what is the problem? William was like a repulsive magnet, fleeting in the opposite direction whenever he witnessed any of his schoolmates. But they don't know him very much, and he neither, so why does he have to act as if they are graveness instead of urelement? He starts to curse and torment the inevitable situation he is in—boggling like a baby in a spine. "Wherever I go, everyone comes there. Why can't I just have peace? But do they concern me? No. So why should I worry? But I want to run from here, but it's my cherish moment to visualise the moment I had today. So why should I go and not them? But why even them? It can't be helped." The constant thoughts of running away, but at the same time, driving himself into the question of 'why' foreshadow the scornful nature of his insight. He wants to run away, but then contemplates asking himself why. He wants the other students to go away, but then roughly thinks about them by being the crawler who jumbles himself by putting himself in others' shoes, but internally he feels like he's a fool.
"Look at them. I don't wanna look at them, ahh, I don't know," William was scornfully obscured.
"Two boys, two girls. I know them, but hell is the last one. Who cares. I know they must be thinking about what I am doing here. Ah, hell, I just don't like it. I don't want anyone to think about me; what should I think about them? I should have brought up my smartphone; no, it's better without that torn." William again starts to disdain them, and he sees them laughing and talking. He criticises them when they ride in the child's den, calling them clement.
He doesn't look at them but constantly proclaims that they are seeing him, but he doesn't know if it's true; it's just that he knows they are seeing him.
"I shouldn't criticize them. Aha, no. In order to be free or become better, there's no reason to gather a tuple that bears grudges." William doesn't stop criticism because he wants to be free, but he has read in a book to not criticise the feed. It isn't because he's enlightened, but rather a trail of superstitious rail.
At last, he decides to vanish from there, as he realises they will not be there. The moment he decides to go out, those groups of nonchalant people move in front. He gets frustrated as now he has to cross the road with them, and who knows if his walking alone route will be affected by them? He decides to run away in spite; he moves so quickly that nothing can stop him. He's like the fur of a bush that no one likes to be lush. His hasteful movements make him crash, fall, and then realise he's down. The very act of haste has turned him into a funny arc, as all of them start to laugh. He doesn't see their faces, but he knows they are laughing. But he notices that the one guy whom he doesn't know doesn't laugh. In fact, he approaches him with his smoothing hands. But till then, William decides to move away; he hastens his feet even more and tries to disappear in silence. He stops a bit after having the sight of them fade from them.
"I fell down, and they were laughing. I knew I would fall, and it had to happen. But did it happen? But he didn't laugh. I don't remember his face, but if he didn't laugh, then he must be good. Who really cares?" William exclaims.
He doesn't remember that his heart was fleeting a few hours ago; the voice touch of Isabelle shuddered him for a while. He reaches his home all alone. He then remembers that he has to go to school tomorrow. He wants his diary, but he feels like sleeping. A thought comes to his mind: "Okay, let's write it tomorrow, fine. No, I must continue this habit all the time." William starts to wake up to write his diary, and it follows:
"Dear Paul, You must be happy to know that I converged myself into an act that gave me a bit of a map. See, I lied to her, but that actually made me talk with her. You see, she came to me, and we did have a talk. It happened cause there's something between us that makes us talk. The day is very good, but what would I do tomorrow? I feel good, but my heart still torments. I don't know, but you know, I think I should leave it now."
He doesn't write about the negative things that happen in a day. He believes that will cause him to be mundane; he gets tired thinking about what to write, feeling shyer. He gets to sleep, but he thinks about how he managed to do something today. He visualises her face in a way that only he can foresee.
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