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. =)

Wandering mind...& boredom

I know it's past 2 pm.

But I'm craving 4 buttermilk pancakes.
Glazed with maple syrup.
And a strawberry milkshake.

But instead I'm sitting in the kitchen,

With both my cats staring at me
Looking out at the blossoming lilac and tulips,
Snacking away at a plate of buttered crackers sprinkled in sugar.

Wondering, what cats dream about when they sleep.

Platonic

I am a hundred pages through Tolstoy's Anna Karenina, about an eighth away before finishing this 800+ page novel. I anticipate every word written and love the secret wisdom Tolstoy hides in each chapter. Somewhere in this book, a line appealed to me regarding Platonic relationships.

" In such love there can be no tragedy....because in that love all is clear and pure..." -Tolstoy

Platonic love, "in its modern popular sense, is a non-sexual, affectionate relationship" (wikipedia). I have always considered a friendship I have with one of my best-guyfriend to be platonic. We labelled it so, strictly friends practically brother-sisterly. Not because we chose it to be that way, but because it became so. We clicked and connected that way. It is quite hilarious that many of our mutual friends considered us a couple back in high school, and we'd both be fairly annoyed and intimidated, complaining at society's ridiculous standards. Very heteronormative, and what I'd often call narrow-minded or shallow.

There definitely is something different about this friendship. The different insights and perspective we both have to offer in each other. Similar to a romantic relationship, yet at the same time slightly different. It is relentless that while I 'think-like-a-girl' and he 'thinks-like-a-guy', there's some sort of value in each other's opinions. Yet, emotions seem to be a lot more sensitive in a romantic relationship than platonic ones, I think. I mean, when you regard a guy as your brother, you couldn't care less about 'emotion-factor'. If the guy is your boyfriend, you'd probably want him to appeal to your emotions and vice versa.

Don't get me wrong, I believe in the importance of both types of relationships. There are advantages and similarities in both kinds.

One thing I'd often come across in seeking advice from a friend who is a girl, is the possibility of girls being slightly more judgmental than guys. I find myself putting on some sort of internal defense mechanism when confiding with a girl. But with my 'platonic-buddy', I couldn't care less what he thinks....maybe because most of the time, he doesn't tell me what I 'should' do, but rather 'what-would've-happened-had-you-done-otherwise'. It is a slightly more positive approach to prove my wrong, I guess.

Two days ago, my platonic buddy and I arranged a double date which I thought to be the most interesting night of my life. First of all, I felt so grown up! Such a transition from our high school-life-friendship, really. It was all sweet, and matured, something practically out of the movie. There is something I continue to treasure about this friendship we have, and that is despite absence, distance and time, there is no denying that such friendship existed. Above all, there is no coercion to artificially force such friendship to occur.

I am confident to say that the clarity in ideals shared in a platonic relationship and purity in motives, is what prevents the tragedy which Tolstoy speaks of.