Questions

          Recently, I got tired by people asking questions. Maybe I become more individualistic and restricted my self to general unimportant questions like the weather today or who’s number one artist on top40 chart. But for me, asking about my life, my personal life, touch the heart of me, not in a good way. Because, then I think, feel and remember people and then be sad. See? Not good.         
          I tend to think too much. About everything, every simple to complicated things. Yesterday, we watch Amazon documentary movie and amazed by how many giant creatures lives under that fresh water. I was munching huge strawberries and suddenly thought about how big strawberries can be in Amazon area. Could it be? The answer never arrived as the scientist was catching another giant creatures with red tails and we discussed how many people can finish it in one go.
          Most of the times the questions just flash and disappear into thin air. But I get easily irritated by personal questions that stick to my ear too long. I can not answer them by one simple sentence, I need cups of coffee to talk it over. But by the tone of the questions, I knew they don’t bother. They want me to be simple, just like they do, but I can’t.
          Possibly, this is due to hormonal cycle. Or a pressure on how slow my writing is going. Or how badly I will miss the people here. Or anything. But every time I pop my head in front of them, the questions always pop up as well. And there I go again, annoyed. I really wish those people disappear into thin air.
          Spending my last time here, I figure out maybe I changed too much. I look older but I would rather blame my hairstyle. But hey, of course I do change. I think, feel and learn. I meet people that I never thought before and feel them. If I don’t change, then who’s to blame?         
          Okay, previous warning is my spontaneous act and it didn’t stop people from questioning me. It even made it worse. So, I would publish this one and reminds everyone who read it with heart, please do careful with your words. Learn to write or read a good book and you will know how words can be so powerful.


Moral of the story: they don’t grow strawberries in Brazil, they plant corn and beans instead. Magically, my biologist friend always has answers even for my silly questions. That’s why I stick to him for the time being.