My Heart is a Big Place

Deep, and cavernous.

Some light manages to enter through the doorway, but it can only do so much. The farther in you tread, the less and less you see. At around dusk, I leave the door open to watch the water turn pink and orange. By night-time, the whole place is pitch-black. I run my fingers on the cold stone walls to find my way in.

I live far away from the city, where the sound of the ocean muffles the noise of cars and worry. Take a boat in the morning, arrive mid-day, and leave before it gets dark. My heart is a big place. The ceilings are high, and they echo your voice, long after you have gone.

(Read My Heart is a Small Place)
 

I Would Write You a Song

If only I could
I would write you a song
but all these words
in my head have no rhythm
they slip out of my mouth
or manage to make it
just to the tip of my tongue

If only I could

I would write you a song

but all these colors I feel

have no names for them

when I looked in my box of crayons 

the blues and reds 

were just called Blue and Red

If only I could

I would write you a song

but I couldn't

so I just wrote you

a blog post. 

  

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind

the harder I try to forget
the harder it is to forget
 

A Few Scattered Thoughts

1. Maybe the reason why I don't run into you in real life, is because I run into you enough in my mind. (credits to my friend, Star)

2. Opportunity cost really sucks. It's the pain of losing something you never had in the first place. 

3. I was having a really crap day, when I ran into a man in a sweatshirt that read, "The proof of gold is fire" in Jimi Hendrix colors. The Universe has a strange way of making me smile. Thank you, Universe!

  

God and His Strange Sense of Humor

One day things are so and so. Life is comfortable, and I like the familiarity. Then suddenly I just wake up, and things have changed, apparently. I don't like change. Change is bad.

Especially this change.

I pore over everything and analyze and read into and feel all there is to pore over and analyze and read into and feel but in the end I just feel tired.

So I resign myself to the idea that this is just God working, through His strange sense of humor.

But what if He's serious?
 

April Fools' Day

Today was an eventful one, the first official day of my two-week summer break. I painted, went to the mall, had a donut, and drowned in all my thoughts of you.

Congratulations.

You must be really good at practical jokes, huh? 

  

My Heart is a Small Place

I have yet to replace the old, creaky floorboards, the leaking sink, and the windows that won't shut, but I am doing my best to keep the place tidy.

I take out the trash, sweep the cobwebs, water the plants. I'm fastiduous when it comes to arranging my shoes, books, files.

But it's tricky when you come over. I try to hide the little cardboard boxes labeled, 'Secrets,' the folders upon folders of Memories, a logbook of 'Feelings' in the cupboard.

But what use is it, really?

(Untitled)

I'm looking for someone
whose name I do not know
whose face I have not seen
whose voice I have not heard

When it starts to rain on the long walk home
I feel your arm on my shoulder
and I can hear you fumbling
for an umbrella in your backpack

I know that you are looking for me, too
on your long walks home
when the streets are cold and the stars are asleep
you wonder how warm it must be in my embrace

You could be anyone
then again, you could be no one
I can't wait to meet you
but maybe I already have

(written for a good friend)

It's dangerous business

taking long walks alone
to nowhere in particular
this morning I left my headphones at home
there was no music to screen my thoughts of you
just the lonely sound of silence
and the last words you spoke to me
on loop inside my head
for some reason I was fine with that :)