A friend comes home unnoticed. Her teenage son is busy with his mobile legend while her daughter doesn’t even know she’s home. In jest, I told her “Get a puppy, or dogs. At least you’ll be comforted that there is someone who is always happy to see you.”
I don’t know why I said that. I’m too insensitive I guess. Truthfully, no matter what, there will always be someone who will need you, love you, or want you. It doesn’t matter in what order. And as time goes by, every passing year, the order changes, for humans I think.
I just can’t think of a right graphic for that quote, so I used my dogs. After all, there is no better way to express unconditional love than citing a dog’s love. Well, just next to my mom’s love of course. Hey, I’m not saying my dogs are at par with her. Neither am I implying that I give more time to my dogs than her. Although, sometimes, nope, most of the time she would complain that I always give my dogs a treat every time I arrived home. She seldom receive anything from me when I see her. Inspite of that, I know she will always be someone who is happy to see me (just like them too) 🙂
The Mud Pie Mojo stirs some memories when we drop by in an ice cream shop named Coldstone. Yes, it is cold but even with a heart of stone, glancing at their signature creations, suddenly I remember my first lick and that unforgettable obsession. The banana flavored ice cream with chocolate chips, reminding me of that devotion and its rendezvous illusion.
Somehow life’s memories replicate my ice cream fantasies. So I lick it slow then lick it fast….because I know it might not last.
“Where do I begin,” (that famous line from a familiar song) to tell a story where I’ve been. Been somewhere, anywhere, nope, truthfully nowhere.
Now I don’t know how to start. They say time heals all wounds, and if missing something is a wound, and starting all over again is a form of healing then let me have a thousand scars for although I’m not a masochist, I welcome the pain of waiting. And if somehow one can’t understand what I’m conveying, it’s okay not to be understood once in a while. Why would I expect others to understand if I, myself don’t understand where I’ve been, eventhough I always claimed I know where I’m heading.
Subject verb agreement, punctuation errors and a lot of grammatical lapses. I am not an English writer and it does not pain me when I tender my resignation letter and realized that he’s not reading my letter. Yes, he is not hearing me, he is looking at my letter telling me how in the world can I write a resignation letter with misspelled words and grammatical lapses. That deceitful feeling of finally getting even by giving him a hard time deciphering what I meant when I said I’m leaving. Or is it just the real me when I blabber with incongruent statements because truthfully I am a weird eccentric person who is not good in saying goodbye.
So I closed the door and walked away…. But in no time I’m back in his arms, restartng what could have been, what might have been, what should have been and all those in betweens.
Been There. Done That. How I wish I could truthfully say that. 🙂
Life is like an ocean. It comes in waves ebbing and flowing. Sometimes the water is calm, sometimes it’s overwhelming. And just when you thought you’ve seen it all, you’ll be caught by surprise that there’s more to come.
Realizing that life is a cycle. Still being thankful that there will always be something to be grateful for. And knowing deep inside that there will always be something beautiful to look forward to.
Yes, the best wave of your life is still out there. Learn from the waves and enjoy the ride.
Abstract people. Have you met them? Do you recognize them? Do they ever bother you? Do you understand them?
Understanding them is like viewing a painting. Your interpretation is limited to your understanding. Your understanding is limited to your truth.
Looking at the painting, how could you refute the visible signs of the brush if you’re only seeing the canvas? And how can you accept the beauty of its diverse colors if you hate to walk in shades of gray and live your life only in black and white?
And what is your truth? Is the sun your truth or the moon on a dark night? Is it the rainbow after the storm or the pot of gold after the rainbow? Is your truth your refuge when life is a curse or it becomes your oath when life is a gift?
Abstract people. Most of the time, you don’t understand them. Sometimes, you are one of them.
Why is February a Love Month? I don’t know the answer. One thing i know is I love to share something about love through poetry……..Since February is make love, oops, i mean made up of 8 letters, let me share you 8 Love Poems/Musing.
Kindly Click / Tap Photos To Read the Poems. Hope you’ll LOVE them. Thanks.