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Oh the summer never felt so sweet
I still feel the sand underneath my feet

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Like I'm daydreaming again
Like I'm daydreaming again
Like I'm daydreaming again
Like I'm daydreaming again

Whilst first impressions can be formed within the initial eleven seconds, they can also shatter in the next eleven.

What bugs me the most are people who judge others hastily. It’s like you can’t even defend yourself and disprove them ‘coz the second they get curbed, they shut you out completely.

Snobbish, stuck-up little bitch – this is what has been repeatedly said to me. Bollocks. Complete and utter bollocks. It may be my thick eyeliner or the way my eyes squint when I look at other people. It may be my frosty, almost husky voice or the blasé way I talk to other people. Show them a tat or put a cigarette stick between my fingers and I might give people within ten metres of me constant panic or even a heart attack. But that’s not even me.

Thing is, people form opinions about me way too early. Thoughtlessly, even. Because, seriously, try spending a couple of minutes with me and you’ll see. Get to know me and you might just feel motivated to write my biography. I’m not swanking or anything but I’m telling you matter-of-factly, you’ll ultimately love me.

I am playful. Full of beans. Incredibly naughty. I love teasing as much as I love munching on Dairy Queen Chocolate Almond Blizzard almond bits. I like having fun. I like making fun of people. But it’s a cute way of having fun and a cute way of making fun of people.

I may assume a role of having to quench moments of silence but I am a good listener too (or at least I think I am) if I choose to. I can spend all day talking about anything under the sun even debating about fonts, “Baby Boys”, and the wonders of cellphone recycling. That random. I wouldn’t mind wasting time getting to know a person.

Having said that, I love talking about your life as much as I love blabbing about mine. I ask a lot of questions too. And a lot more follow-up queries. Oh and, dear, I won’t stop ‘til you raise the white flag and call it a day.

That’s about it about me. Love me or hate me, I guess.

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Humming seas do deplore

This aging piece of oar

‘Neath the rocks, kissed by waves,

Comes carriage of graves

Hail, the master of seas

Plunge for the Golden Fleece

With the mermaids steering,

“Go forward!” says the King

And misfortune indeed

Clutched to sails, whilst they bleed

Humming seas do deplore

This aging piece of oar

Photo by DanaDaDiva

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"In order to be irreplaceable, one must always be different." - Coco Chanel

I was nineteen. I was having the time of my life – savouring the thought of not having to care, not being held back or chained up to anything. When I met you, things changed for me. I was terrified because you had that certain hold on me. I tried to escape only to find myself falling back into your arms. It was too potent. I woke up one morning and told myself I can’t let this happen. I can’t fall for you because I was afraid that ultimately either one of us is going to get hurt. I can’t be paralyzed without you. I can’t let myself be that close to you. I just can’t. I felt like a ticking bomb. It’s as if you can’t go anywhere near me because with slight contact, I might abruptly explode. The thought of us having an expiration date scared the hell out of me. It was crazy.

I ignored you just because I had to let go of those feelings. I mean, how could this possibly happen? To me? The girl who is always in control of things? The one who knows exactly what she wants and is always so certain about things? That time, I wasn’t so sure anymore. So I kept pushing you away, thinking it’ll make these unsettled feelings set off along with you. But they didn’t. And pushing you away? It was the dumbest thing I’ve ever done in my life.

It has always been like fate is constantly finding a way of bringing us together. When I needed someone, you were there waiting for me to call your name. When I’m having a bad day, you were there standing at the end of the staircase with the sole purpose of making me laugh at the end of the day. Corny jokes. But they make every ill feeling seem lighter anyway. Yet every time you’re there, what do I do? I look away right away. Avoiding destiny. Running away from chance. Chance to get closer. Chance to spend time together. Chance to finally admit to myself that I indeed was feeling something. And I knew it. Still, I pretended that I didn’t buy it.

I miss them, all the same. The way you look at me. The way you say my name. The way you come up to me just to see how I was doing. The way you make fun of me. Your jokes. Your smile. Your sarcasm. Your drunk moments. Your laugh. Your good taste in music. Our quick trips to the shopping arcades. Chillin’ on the rooftop just gazing at the stars. Those movie nights spent just the two of us – the comfortable silence, the sharing of cereals, chips, and chocolates, the smirks and sarcastic remarks. Do you remember? After the movie, when the credits roll, we will both stare at the TV screen for about eight seconds and then laugh in unison right after. Then, we’ll talk about just how silly, mushy, or feel-good the film was and then end the day with a sweet heart-melting line: “We should do this more often.” A sweet simple hug then I’m off to my room. It was so cute.

I feel brutal for trying to hold back my emotions. You got nothing from me, that is. Not even a tinge of care. And I hate myself for being so unfair to you. I know you didn’t deserve any of this. Maybe you really just don’t deserve me. I’m sorry.

Then again, everything’s my fault. It was such a maddening long game of Hide and Seek. Perhaps Serendipity got tired eventually. Perhaps Serendipity got tired of me.

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When you feel in your skin, in your bones, and the hollow of your heart, there's no way you can't wait till tomorrow.