Dear Crumpled Paper

I walked into a classroom with arrayed chairs and a green inviting board. Spotless as it seems to be. We began our seminar and my attention has never been so undivided my whole life. The wind blew its breeze and it struck us on our skins. That’s when I saw it, the image of a calm and fixed crumpled paper in a corner where no one bothered to look. I never remembered why I diverted my eyes from our lovely speaker but you’ve already captured my gaze, interesting me of what you are.

It boggled my mind in many things of what may be inside of you. Worthless words? Nonsensical drawings? Doodles? I may never know, but it was haunting me to my very pit of interest. My curious mind can’t comprehend of what you are. Because what you are is what I want to know.

Never ending questions were still flowing, streaming, formulating of what you contain. It’s on the point of me thinking maybe you were just a useless first page of a paper pad? A failed poem of a lonely lover? Scratch notes of a math equation? I don’t know! I can’t control the thoughts I have of you. You’re making me think of things that are very complex and completely waste of my time and yet, you still amaze me.

Why were you crumpled? Why are you here? Was it your own intention? Will I ever know? Complete waste of my time causes this head of mine to spill in never ending circles of what you are and what you are to be. Something maybe so utterly useless you were crumpled, forgotten, unloved, and left alone. You weren’t that much of a use were you? Did you think so too? That you’ll amount in something? Like a perfectly written essay? A love note resulting to a cheesy and romantic ending? Drawing of perfectly detailed hands? What was in your head? What were you feeling while young hands crushed and threw you on the floor to be much more of a useless nothing?

I may now be losing patience. I can now hear the imaginary tick-tock of the clock and still, my mind is occupied of you. Blankly, I stared at her face as her red-tainted lips danced with words coming out of it. The latter of my thinking is on its shore, I’m ready to grab it. It’s a shot in the dark but I know it’s worth the thinking. Will it ever occur to me? Because to me, you are something simple, something untouched by sin, crazed with nothing but purity. Empty.

Never you were used so you may never be called as “useless”. You didn’t have any sense so you were never “nonsensical”. You never had something, so they can’t call you “nothing”. Disregarded are your abilities while it was captured by time and dimmed pointless. Misunderstood by oblivious judgement you faced, now resulting as trash and imperfect. Crinkled and ruined, you ought to be something more. Now I know what you may contain. That maybe I’m you in a different place.

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