RAIN

I will see you soon

 

The longing will then subside,

 

Rain slowly ending.

6/21/11

'Til we meet again, my love.

MY NONCHALANCE IS SUCH A GIVEAWAY

If you know that I spent half of my working hours last Tuesday to stalk you, please spare me the embarrassment and just keep your mouth and your mind shut. You need not comprehend my very mature and rational actions. Grasping explanations about the things that I do and the things that I want is like a futile attempt to understand why some girls go crazy over that factory-crafted robot boy they nicknamed Justin Bieber.

When I say 'hi' or 'good morning' to you here in this field slave aka office, please do smile back. Don't ask me why. It's the same as guessing why Wikipedia said that this girl named Katy Perry is a singer and a songwriter. When you look at me (I know you give me those glances. I just know) and I don't look back, please bear in mind that I am shy. After all, not so many guys look at me the way you do.

If ever we get the chance to talk (discounting our usual morning hi's and hello's), be kind to me. Please don't talk about sports and overtly masculine stuff I can't relate to. And just so you know, I'm not a basketball fan. :)

Sometimes you just do anything except those shit on your to-do list

ADULTERIUM

It’s 3:33 pm. I feel sleepy and tired.
I realize how tiring it is to do the same things over
And over again.
I live for you but then I know I’m missing so much.
I’m living a lie, trying to survive an eternal war.

I skip stones, I try to make an extra leap
If that is what it takes to let you know
How much I love you.
But then again I have these dreams of crossing barriers
And of letting lose, and of playing bass, of planting trees.

Please don’t call me selfish.
I try to think of you alone.
It's just that sometimes life is such a mindfuck
And every mundane thing I do is a perpetration of adultery.
The conventional is what it’s supposed to be;
The irregular is what I plead for.

I live for you but then I feel the need to live.
Life is but an illusion.
We are all dead.

3/30/2011

After two years, I realize I have an existing blog

FOR MARCUS

Time, like sand

in my hand that slowly

breaks loose Never to

be picked up again.

Every bead a memory

of how we transgress

the physical realm

of this cruel world

we live in.

Time, like sand

in my hand that slowly

breaks loose Never to

be picked up again.

I know you understand

more than I do.

6/15/2011

Happy birthday Marcus. I will see you soon.

Love,

Mama