Monday, February 23, 2009

Random thoughts while walking to class on a sunny evening

I don't know you.
I read your thoughts that you tell everyone.
I don't know you.
I've seen your face that you show to everyone.
I don't know you.
I know we are here together.

The thoughts of you, your face and the fact you are here become a shadow, bugging my head.
And I said, 'Go bug someone else,'
And it said 'You're the only one person thinking of a guy you never know,'
And I said 'Go away...'
And it stay.

Saturday, February 21, 2009

Deeper Conversation-Yuna

Is your favourite colour blue?
Do you always tell the truth?
Do you believe in outerspace?
And im learning youIs your skin as tanned as mine?
Does your hair flow sideways?
Did someone took a portion of your heart?
And im learning you

And if you dont mind
Can you tell me
All your hopes and fears
and everything that you believe in
Would you make a difference in the world
I'd love for you to take me to a deeper conversation
Only you can make me

I let my guard down for you
And in time you will too

if you dont mind
Can you tell me
All your hopes and fears
and everything that you believe in
Would you make a difference in the world
I'd love for you to take me to a deeper conversation
Only you can make me

if you dont mind
Can you tell me
All your hopes and fears
and everything that you believe in
Would you make a difference in the world
I'd love for you to take me to a deeper conversation
Only you can make me

Deeper Conversation
with me

Does your name rhymes with mine?

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

Love..?

They say it is sweet...

Like candy floss at the carnival...
bitter godiva choc with caramel...

They say it is mild...

Like chinoz of Mediterranean...
blowing evening breeze...

They say it is warm...

Like chocolate on a rainy day...
soothing souls and mind...

The way I've seen it.

It is dysfunction.

Thursday, February 12, 2009

I hate you

I hate you and I don't want to see your face.

Because when I see you, I hate it that everything that happened was all lies.

And you don't (and never do care) about me.

I just hope we live in different planet

Wednesday, February 4, 2009

.... (II)

I hate feeling like this. Like I am not wanted. That nobody is missing me now. Like I don't even exist.

Today, I wore pink dress and a pair of wedges which I like very much and the girls keep looking at. I stumbled about five times over my skirt. And I swore to myself because I can't slow my pace. I am a fast-walker (if such a term exist).

I feel a hollow inside my breast. Like there's a great blackhole. It will suck my happiness. And somehow, I think it whispers to me, everyday, that it's coming for my whole existence soon. Very soon.

But I make it to the class without kissing the ground, though fumbling all the way. The class was great. And I think people in the class made me feel a lil self-conscious. They were always looking my way. I shouldn't say anything...

I want to get away..

I want to get away..

Tuesday, February 3, 2009

...

... Happiness is always built on something that men want...

Thus, the bombings, the massacres...

And it hurts me..

Because there's nothing much that I can do.

Monday, February 2, 2009

True Love by Judith Viorist

True love
Judith Viorist

It is true love because

I put on eyeliner and a concerto and make pungent observations about the great issues of the day

Even when there's no one here but him,

And because

I do not resent watching the Green Bay Packers
Even though I am philosophically opposed to football,

And because

When he is late for dinner and I know he must be eithe having an affair or lying dead in the middle of the street,

I always hope he's dead.

It's true love because

If he said quit drinking martinis but I kept drinking them and the next morning I couldn't get out of bed,

He wouldn't tell me he told me,

And because

He is willing to wear unironed undershorts

Out of respect for the fact that I am philosophically opposed to
ironing,

And because

If his mother was drowning and I was drowning and he had to choose
one of us to save,

He says he'd save me.

It's true love because

When he went to San Fransisco on business while I had to stay
home with the painters and exterminator and the baby who
was getting chicken pox,

He understood why I hated him,

And because

When I said playing the stock market was juvenile and irresponsible
and then the stock I wouldn't let him buy went up twenty-six points,

I understood why he hated me,

And because

Despite cigarette cough, tooth decay, acid indigestion, dandruff, and
other features of married life that tend to dampen the fires of passion,

We still feel something

We can call

True love.