In abandon, we face our biggest fears. The moment your voice ceases to ring in my ears, I feel abandon. I feel the ordinary creep upon me. Have I ever told you that is my biggest fear?

The other day I took a walk when the winds were blowing in the opposite direction, with a certain amount of stubborness too, I must add. I live in a neighbourhood where either the walls cry out or stand solitary without windows. There are no inbetweens here. There is no moderate, no intermediate, no lines, no ballets and pirouettes on a non-judgemental axis. But within these walls, they commit the most atrocious crimes. I can see them.

I walked past windows the other day when the wind was blowing in the opposite direction. Those windows were like strips of skin peeled away; the insides were simply left to rot. I could see a wife watching a soap and a husband falling asleep on his chair. I could see a child watching them and learning that life might end up being like that. I could see her abandon creeping upon her.

Another wall, the lights focused on its texture. Was that deliberate, I wondered. If you cannot see what's on the inside, you might as well feel what my skin is like. You might as well understand its texture. Lights and a white wall. He thought he was hiding. I could see abandon loom large over that house.

Another window, what did the flesh hold now? Did ordinariness eat away into their lives too? How do you make love without shivering at the sensation of an alien skin upon yours? How do you let new life grapple into you without understanding the course of familiarity that follows? I
shudder to think that is exactly where we are all headed. A world of abandon. Let it all go. What's your loss? What's your gain?

Peace might disappear in a few years now. The term could be extinct; we might spend generations trying to find the fossils. This world could be warred and bruised, the circumference of this planet could bleed and drip into space. Starvation could become a way of life, money could be a museum artefact. We could have two suns in our horizon and heat waves could drastically reduce booming population in days. And what could be the biggest regret we might have in the middle of all this?

Ordinariness.

I see through those windows and I see ordinariness. I see love buried deep under blankets and filth of an ordinary life. I see people force themselves into abandon. I feel wasted when an hour passes without feeling you in arms; the aftertaste cannot even get close to how you transform everything I recognize and acknowledge. I wish I could teach you to the world.

The extraordinary is nothing more than an undiscovered organism. It creeps beneath these walls, it hides just before you decide not to buy those flowers, it lives within knowing that you want to and not knowing how to. Ordinariness is my biggest fear.

There will be no abandon in this house. The wood sweats salt during the day and you ooze from my thoughts in the night. You bind me tight into this knot of the extraordinary.

You are my extraordinary.