The pendulum effect

I am miss cellophane to you.
Walking out on you, i flinch.
Saturated and overwhelmed with the most inconsequential interactions, I noticed the subtle shades of blue.
My delicate soul dances to the swing of your emotions.
This mellow debate of ours is full of unexpressed glances, tainted with unspoken smiles.
Flustered with the thought of you, i want to be invincible.

High on the idea of you.
(i will talk to you from here)

what?! I am a lesbian now?

ok people, here is the little dirty incident that happened late afternoon yesterday. I was going toward Starbucks on Main street.
As i was walking towards the door, i saw an object moving at warp speed towards the door. It was a stocky build woman hustling through but halted right beside me and said 'Allow me."
"oh, ok thanks," i responded startlingly.

Shortly after, as i was waiting in the long line, she moved beside me to rummage through things on the side table and attempted to initiate conversation with me. It all began with the innocent pickup line like 'it's a windy day don't you think?" the woman with her half torn military khaki shorts and massive pockets said.

I reluctantly answered her questions and all of the sudden, out of blue, she turned to me and said "would you like to go dinner with me." i was like in my mind having a matrix moment (whao, dude-tress?) Mumbling some words that goes like "what? i dont even know you" was all i could muster to say.

"but i really would like to get to know you." she was persistent like a little kid trying to get her mom to buy her favourite toy.
"eh..im not a les...i don't really go that way" as my voices faded under my breath.

Her face crimsoned and out of her shivering voice, "i could have sworn you are a lesbian."

Almost Doesn't Count?

The formation of art (the gathering, sorting, collecting and associating) rather than any predetermined composition or plans emphasizes the concept of change and transience. Art is seen as a creative journey, as a process that opens itself up to the qualities of non-traditional means. It is an organic process that looks at unconventional execution of the material: the dripping, the staining, the pilling, stacking and hanging. The so called 'new art' has opened up another dimension that involved to the body, improvisation and random occurrences. As I look intensely into the process of painting, I wonder the validity of the statement: 'Art imitates life.'

I always thought that it was the process that counts through my training and experiences of life. However, I just can’t get my head around it in relationships. My friend proposed to me an interesting suggestion: 'it's like buying apartments, you would likely try living in different apartments before committing to a place of your dream.' He suggested that same thing should apply to relationships. Trying out apartments and living in different locations does not forbid you from going after the dream house when you stumble upon it. He told me that I should embrace the notion of 'living in the now', opening myself to date and enjoying the benefit of what love might come with (the good, the bad and the ugly)

But what if you were with someone for all that years, you ended up with nothing to show for? Are you going to be bittersweet about the relationship and walk away saying: that was great while it lasted? The deliverable or the end product, at time, seems greater than anything especially in relationship (imo). I guess, relationship, to me is not just living in the now. It comprises of past, present and future. I suppose, at the age of 27, that I should have had a better grasp of what this is all about. I should have had lessons on it. Maybe I am finding it incredibly difficult to jump from ship to ship or test the water out or maybe I am, simply put, too damn uptight. To this day, I am still trying to derive what shape how I am and what drives my emotions. But I do know this, I am a relationship-er.

The Plunge

I want intensity. I want intelligence.
I want kisses so hard that mouths are bruised.
Willingness to lose sight of any main goal and just go with what it is.
I want soft violence and late night conversations involving UFO's and the theory of evolution.
I want to silently drink vodka in the middle of a field.
I want grammar to never need correcting.
Eyes that tell a million stories, scars that tell more.
I want something perhaps unobtainable.

my every third thought

i don't come here to rant (much)

I guess the best thing about a blog is that you have the freedom to write every third thought on your mind and people are forced to read it (technically)

With this entry, i would like to explore a subtle emotion titled 'jealousy' It is this tingling feeling in your stomach that makes your blood boil just a little bit. It usually happens when you are not getting what you want and when the world stops spinning for you (it never does anyway but you like to think it did at one point)

I must admit I have been experiencing the feeling of jealousy a whole lot lately. It is not something i am proud to say but i am admitting it ('hi my name is Debbie and i am a jealo-holic' )

It's true. I don't remember having to feel that before. What has happened to me? As i get older, i have started to pay more attention to how i am feeling. I realize that i have mellowed the hard edges. I am not as tough (young) as naive (young) or as brave (young) as i used to be. I cry a lot more now. I worry a lot more now. I feel insecure a lot more now. What has happened to me? It is draining.

I have run away before. I was unhappy with the situation and i just packed up my bag and ran, hoping a new place, a new experience would excite me, bringing me something that i was not able to find within me. I was wrong. Perhaps, i was looking for that little special something that just does not exist. It is this pre- constructed pre- conceived notion called 'happiness'.

The many trips of 'i have gone to find myself' never did help me find myself. I am back to square one all over again. Dont get me wrong. I loved the process, the thrill of it, the sweat of it, the pain of it, the pleasure of it, every minutes of it.

i guess that's what matters - i guess that's why i am jealous of this someone, this something that reminds me of what i had gone through before and i am about to seek again.