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he knew there was something different the very first day he noticed it.

it started when he saw his just-departed mother roaming around the house, occasionally giving him a glance and gliding away. but he thought that it was by the grace of Allah, an answer to his prayers that he could see his mother even for just one more time. but this time his heart skipped beats every time he saw her like that, with equal parts of fear and yearning.

"you have a wing, but the other ...

I was not born kind. I was not even born with the proverbial patience of Job. I had no patience with people who would not do things the right way. Worse, I had been raised by my father who would not ignore mediocrity. I expected things the way I had been raised. Thus, begins my predicament.

Because I am in this profession that requires for me to know where one comes from in order to understand that person, to stretch one's patience because one has not traveled the same path as the other, ...

I have this thing with beginnings. Whenever I read something, I take it on its beginning. If I don't like the beginning, I will most likely not like the whole thing. It's kinda like basing things on my impression -- that first moment that I thought totally defines all the other moments (but usually doesn't).

This brings to mind all the other impressions I've made on artworks I've carefully examined, places I've been to and people I've met. More often than not, my impressions do not ...

"Look helpless," is what my friends often advice me. This they often say probably borne out of sheer pity or disgust at me for not having a steady relationship (after the last one) at my age. Some friends they are! It will take Sir Galahad to finally discover me (what with my strong and intimidating character).

Anyone I meet (especially those from high school), would often ask why I wasn't "sold out" yet, like some important commodity at a slowly depreciating market. ...

Tonight I could write the saddest lines.

Seven years. That's probably how long it has been. We've lost count (and the zest to celebrate) as the years went by, when all the atrocities we've experienced have weighed so heavily on us and our relationship. I should have known that all the waiting and hoping will all bowl down to this. My brain did warn me yet like someone whose patience is as endless as the horizon, I held on despite the signs that come my way.

Love was, is ...

Notice that around us, there are "good" people, who were never taught to "be good" since they were born, yet are innately good in character? We admire (and sometimes envy) their personalities, because more often than not, it seems their being good somehow radiates a certain nobility, a kind of correctness and rightness, and even serves as a sort of magnet--people somehow gravitate towards them because other people LIKE their demeanor. Is this then, the reason why we want to TEACH ...

and hang it there.

And gaze at it whenever I want to.


I want to ride a Unicorn.