The explosive

I stepped into the camp with my loaded mood. There was no reply after I sent my message to enquire about my eligibility for the volleyball game. This day I missed another training.

Watching my dreams going to be perished, it was endless torment. This day I didn’t talk much again, because the whole place was pool of sorrow.

If you knew a harmless nod from you could have fulfilled a person’s only hope of surviving in the place, would you be a nice guy?

I was indulging in my self exploring of book but I’d never forgotten to work while others were enjoying. It was when responsibility had overruled everything else, not even when “your boss” sucked could change the fact.

There were immediate reflections, sometimes I just hated myself so much; when I was denied of my freedom, fell sick because of sadness, yet I didn’t just set everything aside.

This day, when the projector decided to take a break, I rushed over with another one and I didn’t expect to see his face there. This running caused more pain on my ankle, and in front of his superior, I didn’t show any form of slackness. Would he stop me from doing this like how he banned me from the game?

This day, when I felt so much like crying out, screaming to the loudest of my voice, yet I was still trying to crack jokes. The fury and grievance within my entire body and spirit were the most saturated explosive. They weren’t within my control.

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