Day (213) I’m the hero of the story, Don’t need to be saved.

 

That movie isn’t fictional. That was us.

Nevermind the fact that we met over a sea of swivel chairs and file folders, just like they did.

We talked about music the first time,

we shared glances, smiles and laughters at the workplace,

and it’s power breakfast everytime.

 

Nevermind the fact that Tom Hansen and I shared the same sentiments,

the feeling of uncertainty. Not knowing where I stand.

We’re just friends. Friends, for God’s sake.

That we actually thought there is a chance. When there isn’t any.

 

I never knew why. At least Tom was given a chance to know.

I wanted to know what’s on his mind.

I thought in that movie I’d find the answers. Somehow. At least a clue.

That was stupid of me to think that way. Hell, yeah. Screw you.

 

I knew I shouldn’t have watched it over a can of beer.

For it never worked out. We were just friends. Nothing’s going on.

 

There’s a bit of a difference, though.

Tom thought she was the one. But I didn’t. (think he was the one.)

All I know is that, shit, I love him. So much.

It doesn’t take a truckload of BS to admit that.

 

“Hey, Trish I think you’re just remembering the good stuff,

next time you look back, I really think you should look again”

 

Yeah, well, at least, Summer slammed the door on his face.

TO LEARN TO LIVE WITH(OUT) IT.

I used to wear my watch on my left hand.

You were fond of being different. so you wear yours on the right.

the word Conform isn’t part of your vocabulary.

I’m not the first one to tell you this, but I’m saying it anyway.

You’re no longer different from everyone else when you decided you’d cry and didn’t care if anybody notices.

when you spoke with great conviction, when you bowed down your head and refused to face everyone.

 

When you said YES, when you’re meant to say NO.

 

I used to wear my watch on my left hand, but I thought I’d give it a whack,

show everyone I ain’t afraid of changes. Put it on the right, one Monday night.

I say, “It feels heavy, it doesn’t feel right”

“It takes a lot of getting used to, my dear.” I heard you say,

and without a trace, vanished into thin air.

 

Facebook is a devil’s tool and I promise not to hit the Search button anymore.

You told me to stay away. But Facebook draws us nearer than we wanted to.
I didn’t mean to sorta-stalk you. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.
Facebook is a devil’s tool. I’ve never meant to hit that search button.

I don’t want to write about you anymore.
But when things get tough and I’ve nothing else to do,
when I’m done contemplating, I long for your presence.
There I get the motivation to write.

Writing about you makes me think I know you from head to toe,
What you’re thinking and what you’re gonna say.

But you know, that’s just me.

The lack of courage to utter that goodbye,
makes you less of a man, hell yeah.

That was out of line.

I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.
Because that lack of enthusiasm on your face
when I last looked at you, worries me a lot.

Facebook does it all.
Not that I’m praising FB because of that.
With all these social networking sites,
It makes it harder for my Korean movie plot dreams to come true.

Just like before, you never failed to disappoint me.
But that just makes me want you more.

 

insanity and facebook status comes a long way.

A year has passed and there are still things I wanted you to know.

and I wanted to understand.

Things may or may not work.

Love may come and it’ll eventually go.

Losing you feels like a drag at times. But it can be comforting, too.

Sometimes it’s the only thing that keeps my sanity intact.

Emotional as it may seems,

I realized I shouldn’t have apologized. That’s how I am.

It’s for the same reason that you were an a**hole,

I know you wouldn’t apologize. That’s how you are.

A year after, my aspirations haven’t changed one bit.

Once, I felt like giving it all up but even your facebook status can’t stop me.

You’re still the same. Sarcasm all over the place.

Pretending isn’t your strongest suit, I should know.

I can crush you like a tin can and all you’ll do is cry.

I’m not the emotional one. You are.

You were a total wreck.

When will I stop writing about you?

When will I stop feeding your ego?

When will it be too late?

random thoughts on a tissue paper.

Just as amazing.
Just as cool.
As the winter wind blows,
Lights were dim,
Curtains were closed.
Coffee beans and cigarette butts.
You can never understand,
that once is enough.
Yes, you will never learn,
to love is to burn.

—————————————————-

You thought I was joking
That over a beer, we can kiss
I thought it was crazy of you not to notice.
Astrud Gilberto and unlit cigarettes,
It’s late in the evening and you’re still imaginary.

————————————————————-

People come and go
From where I’m sitting.
They never stayed in one place,
afraid of what’s gonna happen.
I see the world,
from where I’m sitting.
Then drove away.
Hoping to find you, finding me.

——————————————————————-

-trish. 10.24.09

hell—ooo??

it’s 2:11 in the morning.
and im weak. on my knees.
can’t keep up, can’t hold still.
i loathe my way of thinking,
it must be my inability to retaliate.
don’t get caught up with your own lttle fantasies,
im not you, not even close to being like you.

Where I Stood.

For me, he became an imaginary friend whom I talk to everytime I’m lonely.
and this time, I feel I had eaten too much burritto, drank too much coffee.
It’ll never be the same without him.
I still step inside that monastery, praying. Hoping to bump into him one day.
Almost a year after, I can say that I still feel the same way.
The feeling never went away, it’s like being filed away inside my head and my heart as well, for now.
Locked somewhere for future reference.

I still listen to that cd you gave me. I’m still clueless as to what you’re trying to say.
Every song is like a clue I’m trying to decipher, there are things that the devil in me is telling me,
but I know it can’t be.

You’ll be glad to know that I’m back on the playing field. Although, I cannot play it like you do.
things are harder, each day is questionable, I still look for you in each and everyone I meet,
they have no harsh comments about the music I listen to, unlike you.
They never asked me relate to them the movies I’ve seen over the weekend,
they never asked me out on Sundays, or walk around with me at 2:00 in the morning.
They offer me beer instead of coffee. They stay quiet while I talk, unlike you.
and they don’t know what E-Hug is and how much it means to me. Which makes things a bit boring.

And I don’t know if I could stand another hand upon you/
all I know is that I should/
Coz she will love you more than I could/
She who dared to stand where I stood//

–Where I Stood, Missy Higgins.

Redeeming the 468th Last chance ticket.

As I was staring into my closet, I refrained myself from pulling out all the clothes
and stuffing them into my bag. I feel like leaving again, taking the easiest route to escape.

I feel I have the slightest freedom when I am given all the freedom that I need.
I need to knock some sense into my head, there are things far more
important than these.
What’s the matter with me, I heard them say.
I couldn’t give any answers for it is something that I don’t know either.
I wish I know, I wish I was better. I wish I had a clearer vision of the future.
It was almost as if I’m taking drugs, they say. When I am not.
It was almost as if I was drunk when I am totally sober.

I feel like I am running out of time, Maybe I am.

The clothes I pulled out were now back inside,
thought about things and will try to keep it together.
No matter how long it takes.

2 years and a chance meeting with Amnesiac tendencies.

Maybe then, we’ll be better.
Far from ordinary.
Things may or may not be.
Holding each other’s hand will be a thing of the past, which we can never remember.
Looking into each other’s eyes will no longer leave us breathless, just complete vagueness.
Love may come or may not come again,
maybe we’ll never even understand it’s meaning, if there’s such thing.

We’ll never understand. We’ll never remember.

Today, I found out why my boyfriend gets so upset when I make jokes about him and his best guy friend being lovers. It’s because they are. FML

oh well.