Forever?

He made the first move towards reconciliation. He is not sure if the smile was forced as they acknowledged each other. But the beaming, wide eyed smile looked familiar. It was comforting yet it hurts to in it's own dull ways.

The tragedy in which the stage was set. The forever that was not to be.

Everything

falls apart when you disappeared. You are everything there is to this sordid existance. Your prayers were unanswered, I did not yield, I was not saved. I still see you. Gliding across the paths we walked. Sitting in places we shared. Smelling the scent still permeating in the air. Shadows. Mirage.

Everything that mattered does not anymore. For you are everything. Everything I ever wanted. I was willing to give up all just for you, did I tell you that? A realization too late. For everything is no longer in my grasp, slid away from hands.

I miss you. I miss everything about you.

Sunflowers

It's dark again. A chill crosses the vast expanse of the land. He sits out on the porch, with words running circles in his head. Words which he cannot say. Words which he failed to utter when it mattered most. A man of few regrets, he is. Just that one regret is enough to kill his spirit. That one person that mattered.

He left the bright lights of the city. His worldly possesions turned into cash. He lives off the land now. Not entirely true, that. Accumulated wealth would last a long time. But he just wants to plant with his own bare hands, everyday rows of sunflowers would bloom. Her favourite. His tribute to her. Too late, but at least he tried.

Blast From The Past 1

Revisiting is always a challenge. Understanding why is too much speculation. Deciding on the next steps is an impossible task. What does she want him to do? If anything at all.

Cherry Poppers Unite!

Another Thanksgiving Dinner

So much food! Urgh. Two evenings of food.

Coldness

He let slip a name from his tongue. An unmentionable name. How deep it has seeped into his self, he denies it oh but it is so clear to those around him. So toxic sometimes. So painful at other times.

The clear sky with the twinkling stars. A cold breeze across the snow covered field. He picks up a twig and breaks it. Out of the system is the goal. Such feelings must go away. So immersed was the experience in his being.

A flake fell on his eyelid. It's snowing again. How different was it last winter.

On The Eve of Thanksgiving

Swirling wine, clinking glasses
Wine spilt on shirt, merry still
Maybe not the last time
Yet the end is so near
Truth or dare, I have never
Turkey and pies
Spring rolls and gravy
The heart is heavy
But things must end

Train Ride

Chugging along the track
Nowhere is the destination
Lone passenger about to crack
Hanging on the the promised station

In the darkness the train weaves
Speed blowing away the leaves
From the ground, vibration heard
Numb from the journey nothing is felt

Hmm, I Kinda Like This Piece

Sleep little one dream away
Sounds of a lullaby in the sway
Pain and all, go away
Let her deeply dream away
Dreams of good days to stay
Awaken to a beautiful day

Utter Nonsense

Be yourself and get killed.
Be honest and lose.
Be loyal and get betrayed.
Be brave and die.

An Email I Hope I Do Not Have To Write

Hello! I hope this message finds you in the best of conditions, all around.
Oh how many years it has been since we last exchanged words. Just curious, are you still alive?

Silence

She told him to leave her. It is for the best. He is a wanderer, not the steady flow of a river close to the sea, but a tumoltuous seeking searching stream hitting on rocks and making his own way.

He is not her type. She shares him with too many demands of other people. Friends. Associates. Strangers even.

He disappointed her, for silence was all she got.

Nothingness

And she says, find someone you really like and be good to her.

He says nothing.

Silence. For he has given up the fight.

Such a long time ago. No regrets but can he help but ask what would have happened if he indeed said something. Something worthy of her turning back. But then again that wouldn't have worked. She was a very stubborn one.

What would he say when he sees her again?

The Night Is Young

At a corner next to the smell of today's newspapers from all over the world, the night seems still as he looks out the window. The fountain with the orb-like sculpture is not spewing water at the moment. Orange lights, not bright enough on the trees, magnifies the stillness of the night. Such comfort, this refuge gives him. Safe and sound for him to be engrossed with his own thoughts. Nights like this are a welcome, even if exams are looming in less than twenty four hours. By himself, a large table and quietness. Music passing through the buds of the phones from the notebook. Memories abound as he tortures himself with songs and music of the past. But the sweet sweet melodies are well worth it, as he reaches into the depth of his heart and maybe beyond.

Mornings

The sun shines across the little patch of green past the blinds. The sound of the cellphone emanates across the room. Placed on the large but very heavily populated desk, out of arms reach just to make him get out of the warm cocoon formed with two pillows, a comforting comforter and some blankets. The notebook switched on, left to eat up power generated probably by a nearby nuclear power plant. Every nine minutes, the snooze button is hit, till the resistance of slumber weakens and breaks. A glance at the new emails and the temperature outside on the screen, wearing the rubber flip flops bought more than a year ago from the first trip to the much maligned everyday low price store, a behemoth of a giant across the land. Checking the materials for the day and throwing things needed, while trying to figure out if there is time for breakfast, he walks into the brightly lit bathroom, turning on the shower. Warm water gushes down the shower head, offering a contrast to the slight chill in the room. All cleaned up at the washbasin, wondering if he should use the gooey sunscreen to possibly save himself from future problems. A quick bowl of cereal or sometimes nothing, maybe getting a cookie or a bagel from the cafetaria. Out of the door with a backpack or a messenger type bag, depending on need and mood, bottle of frappucino in hand. A morning begins.

End of A Week

Crackling leaves of brown autumn fall.
Clear skies with twinkles of what may be stars.

Another week. Just a few more.

Thoughts Before Dawn

I do wonder if there is inherently something wrong with me. I do wonder if it is all the little insecurities piling up, making a mess of my little mind. Oh spare me.

Must I do this again and again?

Sunday Walks

Signaling the end of another long week is the short walk I make from the library to my place every Sunday night. The lonely trek is one which helps me clear my mind, getting ready for the week ahead. Just 4 more journeys like that and it all ends. Not down the winding path, that was even a longer time ago. This is on the tarmac, cutting across the campus into the safe cocoon of warmth and comfort of things mine, accumulated here or otherwise.

Occasionally, someone accompanies me on this trek and it's a welcome distraction.

Only 4 more times. Before I leave.

From Wednesday in an Airport

Stuck in an airport is no fun. For the past one year or so, I’ve been spending too much time running across airports, staying in airports when flights are cancelled or delayed. And a normal, straightforward journey like this, delays are unexpected.

Oh well, I finished reading the case for tomorrow’s class discussion and am watching a movie to idle time away. No internet, no wifi here in Houston’s airport.

Yucks to airports without wifi.

Yucks to airports tuned into only Fox News. :P

Hooray to free upgrades :D

Yucks to long delays.

Gosh, more airport time in the next few months. More time spent on airplanes. I guess that’s the price to pay for having wanderlust.

I Hope You Find One Who Knows

1. Look after her belongings when travelling, remind about things she might leave behind. Do a final sweep of the room before leaving, twice.
2. Take out the onions and carrots from her food, after it has been cooked. The flavour should be there, it’s just that she doesn’t eat it.
3. She likes to tickle you. Let her but pretend you are resisting.
4. Take time out to play with her
5. She would love it if you can dance well.
6. She doesn't like watching scary movies. What’s scary to her is wildly different from your definition.
7. She likes pink.
8. She likes her burgers plain.
9. She loves food, both eating and cooking. Cooking destresses her.
10. She has a great eye for bargains. Learn to appreciate it
11. When she says she doesn’t text, believe her. She has just learned how to text, so don’t be surprised or alarmed if she doesn’t reply your text. It’s nothing personal.
12. She doesn’t do IM either. It distracts her. Just give her a call if you need her.
13. She would like something sweet after a meal.
14. Salad after main course is preferred
15. Cooking is her stress reliever. Shopping is her leisure.
16. She makes the silliest comments and will mock you. Live with it.

Just Five More Weeks

And our lives would change dramatically.

No more rallying around each other
No more taking turns at panic attacks
No more crazy drunk dialling at 2 a.m.
No more overeating but with great discounts
No more bargain hunting and day-long shopping trips together
No more roadtrips
No more caffeine overdose
No more crazy wine nights and silly games
No more free flowing salsa and partying
No more dramas of love and hearts
No more trying to study together
No more tutoring and helping each other
No more stupid tickling games
No more whining about lack of action
No more whining about lack of quality
No more bad campus food
No more walks along the winding path
No more great company

In just five more weeks.

What If - Babyface

What If

I ran into a friend of yours the other day
And I asked her how you've been
She said my girl is fine; just bought a house, got a job, real good man
I told her I was glad for you; that's wonderful
But does she ever ask `bout me?
She said she's happy with her life right now
Let her go, let her be
And I told myself I would, but something in my heart just would not let you go
I just wanna know

What if we were wrong about each other?
What if you were really made for me?
What if we was `sposed to be together?
Would that not mean anything?
What if that was `sposed to be my house that you go home to every day?
How can you be sure that things are better?
If you can't be sure your heart is still here with me
Still wanting me

Your friend asked me if there was someone special in my life that I was seeing
I told her there was no one in particular
There's just I, myself, and me
I told her that I dream of you quite often
She just cut her eyes at me
She said you got a home, you're very happy
So just stop your meddling
I told her that I won't
I said things were cool, but I guess I was wrong
I still can't move on

Now that could be my car
That could be my house
That could be my baby boy that you're nursing
That could be the trash that I always take out
That could be the chair that I love to chill in
That could be my food on the table at the end of the day
Hugs and the kisses, all the love we make
What the hell do you expect me to say?
What if it's really `sposed to be this way?
What if you're really `sposed to be with me?