I decided to just meditate in my system space for the rest of the ride.
I looked beside me, and Jun was writing something in a notebook.
I wasn't sure what he was writing, but I recalled advising him to write about his feelings to help him express himself better.
His dark ebony eyes followed his hands as they swiftly glided across the page.
My eyes scanned the partially obscured bottom part of the page, and I could only understand a few words of his slanted cursive handwriting.
'She's so aloof' and 'I never know what she's thinking.'
I turned away when he flipped the page. It wasn't polite to read someone else's journal.
However, I wondered who he was talking about, though it did sound like me.
"Just what is going on inside that small head of yours?" My father would always say that when he looked at me. Those words were the knives that sculpted the wall around me.
