Thoughts by the Small Window

Every morning, before I go to bed, I look out a small window. I'd listen to songs. Hell, I always listen to music and I think. Oh, I do that a lot, too.

I'd watch the cars. I'd watch the people. I'd even watch some dogs milling about. And I think.

Sometimes, I wonder if they share the same thoughts as I. And other times, I'm completely lost in my own world of endless streams of what would, could and should have beens. Translates to hope or regret, eh? A fine line separates these thoughts.

I regret. I savour. I long. But there are moments that I simply don't care.

Lovers had. Fancy scored. Dreams lost. I still find cause to hope, though. All masked by cynicism.

It's quite ridiculous, really.

I've got a secret...

Teehee.

What if I decide not to tell? Gah. Real stupid, I know. Why would I be blogging about it right now if I won't? Hahahaha.

It's just a silly crush is all.

I find him cute. Ack. I've been using that word a lot lately. Hmmm. I think I said something about that a while back. Pffft. Ah, well. Going back to what I was saying... uh, where was I? Oh. I was describing him. Heehee. I find him --- talented. Really artistic. Intelligent.

Then again --- what do I know? I mean, really?

I hardly know him.

It's just a crush. No biggie. Teehee.

Can you handle the truth?

"The truth does not change according to our ability to stomach it." --- Flannery O'Connor

Sometimes, people think it to be subjective.

Or labour on bending it to fit their agenda.

Wake up, mate.

Cynicism simply isn't enough to erase its authenticity. It just shows you can't handle it. I can only suggest that you just try to learn how to be a better man. It's an immovable force, you see.

That's the beauty of truth. It's solid and firm. It's the foundation of principles. It can set you free. It won't always be pretty but, at least, it's real.

Give me kisses any day.

I've been thinking about kisses lately.

I love the kind that leaves you breathless and wanting --- the kind that makes your knees buckle. Teehee. But I also love the sweet, light ones that's so comforting, it makes you want to giggle. Heeheehee.

Oh, the bittersweet sensation that comes from the memory of a first kiss. I say, bittersweet, cuz it probably means that I'm no longer with the guy. Hahaha. But the first kiss is always lovely. I admit that it can be stressful during the minutes as you anticipate it happening but as soon as it does, it's such a delight.

Who would've thought that our lips were created to bring us this much satisfaction?

Amazing. Wonderful.

How I miss it terribly.

/sighs

Every Little Thing

It's one of them days when I'm lost in them songs. Lately, it's been this Dishwalla song that keeps playing in my head over and over. Perhaps it's due to the fact that it's in my current playlist aptly called autumnsky.



Every Little Thing by Dishwalla

Am I Hiding?

Well --- am I?

Fine. What if I am?

[Someone's gloating right now. Pffft. Go be a shrink then, why don't you?!]

Detaching. Detaching. Detach, dammit!

I can be so stubborn sometimes. Sometimes?! OKAY. Most of the time. Tsssch.

I can be such an idiot about certain things. I really should learn how to learn from mistakes. Uh, maybe --- I'm really dumb after all.

Oh, how I love photography.

Hahaha.

Detrimental Parade of Memories

Seeing..
... a red car.
... that yellow smiling face icon.
... an empty mailbox.
... a certain French dictionary.
... the Pride & Prejudice film.
... a bug.
... a Cityland condominium.
... peach roses --- a single white carnation.
... the words "San Diego, California".

Listening to a certain song of..
... Dave Matthews.
... Powderfinger.
... Switchfoot.
... Damien Rice.
... Tuck & Patty.
... James Blunt.

Sleeping has even become unpleasant.

Darnit.

Days, Hours, Minutes

What is a minute compared to an hour?

Multiply it by 60.

What is an hour compared to a day?

Multiply it by 24.

In a year, there are 365 days. Or 8,760 hours. Or 525,600 minutes.

How we put so much weight on something as intangible as time is really quite laughable.

Waiting is the hardest part. All the thinking and the wishing and the hoping.

But when the waiting stops, we soon realise how insignificant it was.

A thousand sighs wasted.

On platonic relationships with guys

I'm baffled.

Why is it that there are people out there who simply cannot accept the possibility that you can be "just friends" with a guy. Is the myth "men and women cannot be true friends" true?

These people will prod, phish, and pester you into *admitting* that there's romance between you and your guy friend. Pffft. Frankly, I'm getting tired of the questions, really.

Does it automatically mean romance if I enjoy some guy's company? Or is it even right to assume that I'm sleeping with him? It's bloody ridiculous!

I really don't get it.