Greigh. Still the same beautiful, brave, and ridiculously smart caffeinated fighter since the day you met her.
Lover of adventure, pure escapism, unadulterated entertainment, the ridiculous and the bizarre. In a lighter note, I am a tiger disguised as a human. Feline blood.
I cried to my mom last night. She told me quote, You’re too kind that’s why you get hurt a lot, unquote. I didn’t know whether I should suck it as a compliment or puke it off because I’m not being wise with the kindness.
If my feelings were a forest I’d be lost in my own. I started to saunter in a garden of primrose, with calm confidence as I sniffed the air and scanned the plain. I thumbed over my view but the end seemed rather nebulous. I continued to toddle along, and with every exhilarating step I was glad to perceive the incessant ambiance. I wouldn’t want to leave. Yet all of a sudden the green grass turned to a shade of taupe. I paused to look up, calling whoever god there may be to bring rain. None. Silence. Stillness. Hush. The drought came swift — instantaneous compared to the mirthful laughter I shared with the bush. It was too much affliction of sorrow. I kneeled to the last flower, watched it as it languidly shriveled. But I have no choice, I went on to my journey with the hopes of finding a way out. It was days full of tormenting and downcast. It left me goosebumps with no one to caress until they’re gone.
I am trapped in this forest, and I wish the wilted leaves were my memory, so that the wind can easily carry it away.
I’m having fortuitous thoughts lately, and I’m blogging them out and about you might consider them banal after some time. This is a personal blog after all, I hope you won’t mind me posting my opinions on uncanny stuff haphazardly.
A man’s vocabulary, spelling and proper grammar may be sexy. The way he wears suit and tie might be charming. His facial structure could be bewitching. But what truly enthralls me is a man’s wit and candor.
An old friend called me a “quitter” once when I told him the story of putting this book down for the sake of studying for finals. Now, this is what makes up most of my afternoons.
I have a very bad habit of proving people wrong.
One night all I did was stare at this candle.
One night all I did was sit in the chair.
One night all I did was smell its smoke.
One night all I thought of was you, and you alone.
The rain reminds me
so much of you
because it is falling hard
and I am too.
Today was lovely. It felt as if it happened to let me know that there’s still something I love that hasn’t changed. I actually dedicated the reconstruction of my blog to it. Farewell, ‘The Afterthoughts’.
You see, a broken heart is most likely what causes people to change.