Archive for January 2015

(Grey) Sweater and Weather

Saturday, January 31, 2015 Comments Off

I'd be so good to you.

That is an unfulfilled and wishful promise for a hypothetical futuristic scenario of me and a certain guy in light grey sweatshirt that I met a few days ago. At the time, the promise seemed like a hilarious statement, something that I just whispered in the excitement of it all, due to the thrill of innocently trailing someone that I had never met before. It was possibly one of the best circumstances that had happened to me concerning the possibility of liking someone.

I first physically noticed him when he was walking down the escalator that was situated right in front of me. His buzz cut hairstyle was currently out of style, yet it looked like any other choice would have not accentuate his whole being. In fact, the only physical appearance of him that was the apparent major interest of every young adults that I know was his black skateboard shoes. The rest of him had this particular vibe that could only be originated from elsewhere. My friend noticed it, too.

She also noticed that he sat behind me the whole time we were in Starbucks. My friend and I had an impromptu heartfelt story-telling in Starbucks that dark gloomy day. We were talking about how picturesque the day was––the gloomy, rainy, damp Sunday that reminded us of a certain place in certain time frame––and the conversation turned into this private session of intimate story-telling, during which I did not pay attention to the newcomers since I was too engrossed with our talk. As some may know, I am not the type of person that does not observe. Perhaps here lies my strongest and weakest virtue, being an observer, instead of a participant. Maybe not in the broader, life-wise picture, but more in the type of person that I am when I found myself alone.

Perhaps it was the reason why I was drawn to him. The way he carried himself exuded a persona that would quite understand the comforting circumstance of being alone for awhile. The fact that he went to a bookstore afterwards was also another quality that I appreciated for I had never seen anyone with skateboard shoes with urban vibe went to a bookstore and proceeded to look for imported books. He could be one of the people that were born with the atoms from the same star. Maybe, once, our atoms were connected to one another to form this beautiful light in the sky that deliberately exploded at this predestined moment for these atoms to be carried inside us, so that we could meet at that one point in our life with our atoms caressing each other from a distant, gazing at the familiar.

He made me think of that possibility. Could it be that the people you feel an instant connection with were made up of billions of atoms that came from the same star as you are?


Cold, Distant Origin

Tuesday, January 6, 2015 Comments Off

You were the loveliest two-weeks comet in my life. Your presence was overpowering––assembling and reassembling me all at once. Parts of me were broken down into small things that you swiftly put together with the techniques that you know. And I am forever grateful. You bore similar colour from other familiar stones in the sky, but you were heavy, with memories and history, also with the substances that you caught from the places before here.

Yes, here. Where you and I met. A brief but intergalactically predestined meeting. A minuscule difference would mean thousands upon thousands of different scenarios. Scenarios which you and I could never meet; a disheartening and dejecting maybe. But why wasting our days talking about the impossible? The subject of my longing in another galaxy, of another me, gruntled by the fact that this did not happen.

We were, God, we were. Your silence and my chatter. Your continuous monochromic appearance and my ever-present colourful fa├žade. Your cold, distant origin and my bright, humid genesis. Your massive stature and my round, oftentimes delicate feature. Your partly deviant nature and my prissy attitude.

Notwithstanding the impacts of other beautiful creatures towards my growth into a better being, but you were, quite possibly, the first tangible being that pulled me out of the dark by convincing that I was a being worth living and noticing. Not with your light, mind you, but with your forward blunt truths. A refreshing breath of fresh air after what I had previously taken in. A hopeful opposite of my previous reveries. Though it was true that your appearance and gravitas pulled me in, the taciturn kind with the highest gravitational pull; even black hole could never hold a candle to you.

You were a text in the middle of the night. You were the zoo map that I've crossed out (hey, have we actually ran out of places to go?). You were the cinema in the middle of nowhere. You were an abundance of chips, chillies, coke. You were my favourite grey sweater on an oversized denim buttondown. You were ice cream, in 15mph weather.

Granted, you are not my absolute, cherished almost. But you were my second most favourite highlight. You built me, changed me––in mere two weeks. I can't imagine, the impact you'd have on me, if I was yours for two years.
Powered by Blogger.