fumbling at dusk

Turns out I can't. I can't tell it. I'll save it for next time. If there is something I would do, it's nothing. Cos it's out of my hands. But maybe it isn't what I think or feel it is. If so, again, there's no difference. Well, well, turns out to be...

fumbling at dawn

Can I talk to you? I need some attention. I need someone to listen. I need to say so many things. I'm afraid you'll not know. I think I shouldn't shout though. Wait. I'll wave! I'll wave both arms at you, so you'll see clearly. Let's see, where shall I start?

Bitter heart of mine

I'm going to count till three. Then I'll jump. I'll feel the wind in my face, cold and harsh. Bitter. I'll wave and flap, I'll spin and turn. When it does end, I'll hit hard. Maybe I'm going to land on my back. Better still, on my head. Don't worry, I'll pick everything back up. You don't have to do anything. In fact, you've done enough. So it's best you just sit back and watch me, or don't at all. I'll try explaining to you again, but I don't think I'll find the words. It can be a bit hard, but there's nothing much anyone can do. So I'll keep on falling, down and down. If it's best it's good, if there's nobody, there never could. How could little birds and hail hurt me on my way down? They'll just fall with me, they should. I'll just get a cold, some bruises maybe. But I'll be intact. I don't know about the fall though. Let's wait and see.

To get what's not gotten

*snap*

I took a picture of you today, and it looks great. Good thing everything's almost digital nowadays, the picture would last for years. That is if I don't lose the file.

I think the best part would be waking up with the sun caressing my face, gently infusing my skin with its warmth. I don't mind rainy days either, it's just as good, because I feel like huddling under my blanket then. Oh if I could I'd do the arms-and-legs-wave you always see people doing on blankets of snow.

Occasionally, I'd do nothing. Then time seems to take notice and tries to zip past as much as it can. I end up wondering. But there's never an answer. Our minds are certainly weak when it comes to these, showing how little we know about this world we live in, let alone the universe.
Partly why I often pray for the health of the ones I love, for their sins to be forgiven, for the well-being of myself, for a lasting relationship.

After all, I could imagine spending the rest of my life in sheer bliss, with good company, and that very source of joy and happiness. Life would be so good, wouldn't it? Maybe fantastic.
Tonight is a good night. So would be tomorrow night, and so on. Every day's a great day. It's a gift. It's just how you live it. Every second, minute, hour and day. It's like painting a picture perpetually. You decide every stroke of the brush, every splat and drip of paint.

Isn't it all just a test? After all, we ain't gonna be around for long. It's like a dry run really, before a longer one. To decide where and how we would be. I wanna do more for myself. Others too.

So maybe it's just in a day's work after all.

If time could talk.

Come and sit with me. I'll tell you countless stories. I'll even talk about you.

I'll talk about almost everything under the sun. Rain and shine, even that kind.

You could tell me things too, I'd listen and just look at you.

Pardon me if I don't seem to react to what you say, because I think I should be lost in your eyes by then.

But just yell at me or shake me a bit, that should do the trick.

I could stay like this, and I would.

I dearly want it to stay.