like Manila traffic

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

Snap back

~~If I had any sense at all, it would be so much easier to make the clear-cut choice.~~

~~It's funny how we all have very little sense at all when we give in and choose to fall.~~

I am a rational being, gahdemmit.

Monday, November 16, 2009

Overanalyzing's for wimps

I could want you for all the wrong reasons, but the bottom line is that I want you, and people who know me well enough, know that that doesn't happen too often.

Saturday, November 14, 2009

Magulo, malikot

So here's what goes on inside my head, just so we clear all misconceptions about it being full of schedules and plans. Here's a peek into that node of humanity and vulnerability I try so hard to deny, just so that I don't succumb to the fact that I am ten..twenty..a million, times weaker than the average sap.

Maybe you've seen me flash a smile and let it pass for an answer, maybe you've gotten that too often and gotten sick of the mystery I cling to. Maybe you've figured out by now, that no straight-shot answer feels safe enough to be spoken, without a smirk or shrugged shoulders. I am too far beneath the capability to answer with conviction, for fear of crucifixion. I am a million times weaker than the average sap, because I am the above-average wimp.

I am the girl who will turn red at every comeback that hits the mark and every move that makes me wonder. I'm the kid who'll stutter at personal inquiries and admissions. I'm the fool who can't come out and confess, to save her sanity. I'm the wallflower, with one foot out the door before you tell me it's time to go. I drag my neglected high school heart around on a leash on the rare occasion that I can't keep it under lock and key.

My timing (if you can call it that), is the sloppiest shit. Every time I FINALLY decide to admit, every damn time I start to fight the fear to commit, I'm left high and dry, with the need to get hit.

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

To be or not to be!

If my thoughts were to pile up past my silly little brain -past my skull and scalp and perpetually-tousled hair; spilling back onto the screen, floating through cyberspace, would your all-assuming, unknowing eyes judge me the way I keep telling myself they're inclined to?