Sunday, October 18


 I have started eight new pieces just this month, but instead of finishing any one of those, I would rather finish this piece from 2011. =D

You lost me. You lost me when you said the right things at the wrong time. You lost me in translation and in indirect dialect with tones, tempo, and taper to the tee. Somewhere among your inarticulate speech impediment. Between the subject-verb agreement, a space. The distance between us wasn't  heard. Or were you talking too quickly; I was listening too slowly. You lost me in simple complications and every other disorientated oxymoron. In the literary movement. Somewhere within your one liners for subject personification. You’ve lost something borrowed from me. May it be time? You lost me in a fruitful future presently. You left me at prosperity street and success lane. Abandoned, left in between the mattress and the down comforter, in a dream. Walking on my soul. You lost me in a designated area for the forgetful. In explaining the diagnosis for my prognosis. In every one of your conceivable preemptive measures towards preventative circumstances. In your genius. You lost me in your rapid metamorphosis of what you would call your innate character. You lost me in the beauty of things. You left scar tissues and inflamed taste buds, making difficult to taste the sweeter things in life. You lost me in your baggage. Items you can’t just overnight.Your departure equated to a lost cause. Swept in the undertow.  You lost me and it's shown in your actions. In your flagrant carelessness and oversight. Whether it be memory lapse or purposeful elimination, in the midst of things, you lost me, but somehow I loss.     

Monday, October 12

Nonstop Misconnections

This will be my 8th post of the year. It doesn't seem like a lot, but it's an improvement. Two more post and I will have tied the number of post from 2013 and surpassed 2012. 43 more post and I shall have more than my 2010 blog fest. Let us stay hopeful. Thanks to Tu Vy, I read a great, maybe the best, misconnection story ever. I remembered that I once wrote a story like that, less descriptive and less interesting, if interesting at all. It was on my iPod I had written it awhile back during a flight. I won't tell you when. I wish it were better, but I was on a plane tirelessly writing it on a low battery iPod that also served as a listening device. 

Lately I've been a tad bit mesmerized. Like with this girl on this flight. The way she swindles her legs and plays through her hair. The way she turns her head towards the back ever so often is ever so distracting. I wonder if she's interested. But in the moment of my weakness and alertness, there's a glimpse of brightness from her.  Something more glistening than just an artificial aura. Then I notice it, in plain sight, a wedding ring. I should have known better than to assume that she's available, more or less single. But I can't help but to succumbing to my espionage tactics in finding a flaw that'll lessen her effectiveness.  I can't. My eyes won't allow me. Turbulence. The ring may serve as a barrier, but I don't think I'd do any more if it weren't there. I fantasize like that some times. I'm chicken shit like that, and I don't know her story. What's she doing so young and married? What am I doing wrong? Why am I the only one on this plane that's probably enthralled and now a bit attached? She may say the wrong thing to me, and then, bam, she's just a human again. Not a chance not worth taking. So, I'll let her have at being all beautiful and poised and shit. Staring is rude anyhow, and that certainly won't win me any brownie points. This is only one example of one person I've come into contact with and grew an affinity towards. What about that girl in the mall that showed me the smallest sliver of attention? What about the girl who asked me my age from Seattle?  Lately it's been bad, and I've been obsessive. All I know is that I'll always want to be mesmerized. It sounds like a diary, but it is more like a confessional. Girls do it with their Brad Pitts and Ryan Goslings; I guess it's okay for me to do it too. I do it with ordinary people, who to me become celebrities. In this journey called life, we're allowed a few nonstop one-way connections. 

Saturday, October 10

Lucky to Know You

I have a few drafted post, none of which are done or worthy of publishing yet. I think about blogging every day, sometimes jotting things down before I go to bed. Most of them seem to be complaints or angry post. I hate complaining and complainers ever more. So, my last post was kind of self-inflicting. Trying to mask it without deleting it urges me to write more. I wish I could delete it, but I won't because that's cowardly. Since I can't complete a subject, can't complain, want you to forget about my last post and  want to blog, I thought I'd post something old. Before there was my blogger, there was a notes section on my Facebook page. This article was one of them, and still holds true. I feel better when I read it, maybe it'll do the same for you. Here is "Lucky to Know You:"

Some people won't grasp to know their true value to another. Not in the obligatory "It's pleasure to have met you" formality. But the declaration of the true appreciation of meeting and knowing an individual, without the involvement of a eulogy. Some you may admire immediately, at first glance, first exchange of words, and others who grow on you like a new haircut you learn to love and/or fits you. Some filled with immense talent and others who are talentless, only great at being themselves. The mediocre ones who thrive to be great at something, but always seem to fall short sometimes aren't so mediocre and surpass expectation at being friends, associates and/or family members. Some with which you share an astronomical number of commonalities and some nothing at all. There are those who stand beside you day in and day out, and those who check in once in awhile, otherwise watching over at bay, neither of the two having more value than the other. Or in the opposite way, you being in the position being there for that person day in and day out or at bay with. Some people know you better than you know yourself and others know more of what you do and less of whom you are. Neither matter in deciding what they are to you. You would like to get to know some better, and if you hang out with the others anymore than you have to, they would mean less to you so you don't push the envelope. Most give you that mentality of, I miss you, where have you been the past years, months, and in more extreme cases, days. Not in the mushy gushy, "I don't know how my life would be without you" way. No! Bluntly, I probably could live without you years on in, but it would never be by choice nor be easy with half the excitement that comes along. Characteristic of these people could be an array of things: outgoing, animated, supportive, shy, benevolent, kind, philanthropist, straight forward, ambitious, optimistic, goal-orientated, school-orientated, and/or just oriental. One maybe possessing more than just one of the attribute. It's not the case that quality is better and quantity or quantity is better than quality, it's the composition of attributes that make one say mtfer you're the shit. Finally, there is that one person. The one that would make you feel truly lucky to be in his/her presence within your given lifetime. One that is different from the rest 6,905,386,162 people in the world. Then, there’s that innate joy upon mentioning that person, whose characteristics cannot be specified nor matched, and no one trait puts him/her above the next. One that is in a league of her/his own, bar none, second to none, or any cliché, idiom, expression used in negating comparison. The unexplainably truths of who dreamt you into life or how did you come to be. One you try not to treat differently but can't help to. Who does for you more than you could ever do for them. This type of gratitude is a one way street. It's not giving to get back; it's giving by choosing to give, to make known, to frankly exclaim, clarify or reinforce. It's appreciation for appreciation sake. Without this person, you would be blasé.

Post Script: I've been feeling like Anakin in Star Wars: Episode III - Revenge of the Sith.