Those Four Things About You

For a minute or two before constructing these words and sentences, I deeply wonder why I am doing this. It's fairly clear, as a word of caution(?), that I'm a good friend and a good colleague at the same time. Helping people makes me happy. 


I sincerely thank you Floyd for giving me the reason to write another post in my blog. And I'm still mad at you for intervening my Assassin's Creed:Revelations multiplayer match last night when you called. *Evil laugh*


With much dedication to Romaine. The nexus of my innermost strengths and weaknesses.

The Paper Crane. I don't know if you remember this or not but we walked inside a bookstore once. And like a couple, we raided the shop looking for something - our own personal space of books, egos, and privacy. I never told you what was I looking for, right? It was a book about Origami. I have always wanted to give you one. Just a simple piece of paper molded into something artistic and given life of its own by my mere hands. I found one book actually. And as I gazed around the bookstore to look for you, there you were in the magazine section and talking to yourself. But I was wrong. You were not soliloquizing but singing. Time stopped. The people around us froze. I was staring at you as I hear your melodies, as if I am the only one around. It was music, yeah, but during that time, I realized something. That I was looking for the lady in my dreams? No. That I was totally over you? No. It's something different. Entirely different.


We walked inside a bookstore once. I found no book to buy, unfortunately. Instead, I found a breathtaking spectacle of fantasy and reality. And in between them, is you.


The Picture of You. It is a common practice nowadays for individuals to have photos of their love ones. May it be on their wallets, photo albums, or picturesque walls, it does not matter. As a matter fact, I do not have any pictures of you. Believe it or not, I don't have one. But I do have this. It's one of your many drawings. I really admire this photo simply for two reasons. First, it's you who drew it. Never did I take that seriously when you say that you can draw. But now, the joke's on me. You can draw. Like literally. Secondly, it is a true representation of you. Simple. Neat. With a fiery set of eyes fueled by determination and passion. The eyes I love the most.

The Way Movies Work. We almost have the same interests and opinions. Why the president is like that. Why people go to Starbucks. The electoral proceedings. The Harry Potter books. And even the movies we grew up with. But the best chat we had is the way flicks work. It is not the actors and actresses that make those scenes roll. Nor is the story, the makeup artists, sound directors, and costumers. Rather, it's the director. The way he open his mind and heart to create something out of an ordinary manuscript. The way he move his hands and illustrates his ideas with so much compassion and eagerness. The way one's life creates a new one. You know, if there is one director in this life, I think he made me to meet you. There has to be some reason behind all this. That I have something to deliver for you. A line perhaps, or an act. Whatever that'll be, I'm glad that director points me to you. 

The Traveler's Road. I still wanted to read The Gunslinger but failed to buy one. I always fancied to lay my eyes upon its story where, obviously, The Gunslinger is in pursuit of a man dressed in black. Pretty linear, right? But I do like the plot. It's like the protagonist has only one reason as far as the story goes. No other memes and whatchamacallits. Well in reality, we all choose our paths to take and go on with it, irrespective of those inherent consequences that can either lift us up or bring us down. I am not in pursuit of a man clothed in black. Do I have any particular reason for choosing this road? None! And I do not think any other traveler would pick this one. They even say this was the hardest of them all. But here we are; alone in the middle of nowhere. I, for one, don't have a concrete idea of what will happen to us in reaching the road's end, or if it will not end, there might be an instance that this path will fork. Are we still gonna continue our journey on another road together? Or perhaps go on and part ways? 


How I wish this will not end. But it's inevitable and all will end eventually. How I wish every step we'll take brings no end for us. Instead, moves us closer bit by bit, and although with a slowest speed, I can show you or even make you feel that in this paved road there is a definite reason, even though vague, why we are together. Especially, why I have you.


***


I think I passed my limit. It. Is. Too. Damn. Corny. 


The rest if up to you, my dear readers. :)