Month number 11

At this time last year, you messaged me online from my basement. Serenaded me with Mraz and now I blame you for using music as a method of luring. At this time last year, I held your car keys hostage. And left you a silly note, in the name of awkward absurdity. Somehow last year, sweet pieces lovely notes were hidden among things I'd stumble into,

Handwritten by you.
I am reading each one right now.

At this time last year, you were an audience to my graduating life's performance. You knew I had jitters, but you calmed me somehow. At this time last year, I was slightly uncertain. But certainty prevailed, and overcame through. At this time last year, you'd sneak my favorite smile even when you were half a mile away from me or across a hallway.

My tummy still flutters at the very same smile, even the one you gave me hours ago just now.

I love the way you let me be myself around you.
I love that you tease me.

Through it all,
Be it sweet, bitter, happy, sad, angry, awesome possum, dysfunctional, awkward, funny or dorky...
Having you around has been the favorite part of my day & night.

It has been a beautiful eleven months.

I love you
(Much more that your love for edamame, sotong & chicken combined).

Of envy.

There has to be some sort of narcissism inherent and over-sized ego to believe you are superior. For a desire to earn respect, to attain authority, I think manipulation becomes a weapon. Be it mental or verbal. Manipulative words or 'reassuring' thoughts of;

Provocation. Hate. Fear.

The irony remains, that envious actions are merely 'self-deserving' praises/reassurances serve to hide a manifesting weakness and insecurity.

One is a coward for acting upon envy.

Spell me guilty.
I do get envious.

My excuse is simply that it is human nature.

Simplicity

On the front porch, across white, yellow and crimson flowers. Staring away at the suburb streets, watching cars and people walk by. While the sky turns purple. Wondering why the base of every cloud is flat. Talking about mere nothingness with you. While our thoughts be embraced and swept away by the spring breeze.

Au contraire

Cut the crust off your sandwich

To find your lunch be half the bread

Throw the copper pennies in a cup

To find one minted in 1928

Tuck your hand under your knee

From spinning the crystal lily-blanched curved plate

Sip your dark blueberry tea

Spilling stain on plain white shirt

On an interview day

Seatbelt fastened to your seat

To move your car across the parking lot
Forging is your hobby
But forget your real signature
On a wedding card

Write a note only to have it lost again

Assuring yourself the world's insane

You want many things the other way around.

The laughter of contradiction

Has left you to be found.

Socks and Feet

So I have been slightly restless lately because the one thing I forgot to pack from Ottawa, were socks. I had to beg on my knees for my sister to lend me some of hers. Or steal someone's from the dryer when nobody's looking. I mean who'd go around in running shoes without socks, right? Especially since it's summer and all, I might be jogging around, leading a healthy lifestyle. You might get blisters jogging without socks. Or worst, your boyfriend might complain his car smells like feet, when clearly you know it can't be you because you just got into the car seconds ago. Plus, you know how your feet actually smell like; nothing.

I really wish feet smell like pretty flowers.

And of course, most importantly, my favorite orange striped toed-socks I'd wear when nobody sees me. You know, for summer nights when I'd freeze myself up, sleeping in the basement.

Well, guess what?

I got a new favorite pair!

It's purple. =)