The Key Dilemma

I had a messed up moment today. I just locked my keys inside a room.

I don't have any spare keys. I was trying to be really calm even if I had no idea which room I locked it into since there are two rooms I just locked.

So I decided to check on the window of the first room. Just my luck, it was right there lying innocently on my bed. The window I was peering in was some 7 feet high so I needed to stand on three chairs.

Now what do I do.

I looked around the house, still staying unbelievably calm, and found a hanger and a rope. I wished it would work then but the hanger kept missing the friggin' keys!

Next plan comes with a mop. This is good. I'd pretend I'm fishing though I never really done that before. It didn't work. The hanger was always askew and still kept missing the blasted keys.

Next, I've had this better idea of putting something extra sticky on something and let the keys get stuck on it. It wasn't gum that I found but some weird duct tape I found lying around. I placed in on a spatula from the kitchen. It worked but it didn't because as I was pulling the rope, the stubborn keys was dragged inside the blanket I just crumpled like a paper this morning.

I'm going to set this blanket on fire.

Sweat and dirt I was, I went back to the hanger and swung it on the blanket so it gets hooked on it and the damn keys would reappear. Cursing, I saw the keys again.

Now, the keys are much bit closer than it used to, I used the hanger to get it and got rid of the spatula. And there, hanging in mid-air on the hanger's hook tied to a rope and looped in a filthy mop were my good keys.

Don't think I lost it again. I got it finally.

someone like you

it can't be helped that
one day,
i'd be singing a song for you
a song i wish i sung to you

for words were the first
tiny drops that had
encased the depths of
my soul
your words were the strings
that that tied me on a balloon
watched myself soar
these words were the music
that kept playing on
with my thoughts

it can't be helped that
one day,
i'd be singing a song for you
a song i wish i sung to you

A deliberate sharing about what I think love was

I met love so long ago. I never knew. He was just there waving his hands on my face, giving me a sweet smile before we depart and whispers mushy thoughts I pretend not to hear. I can’t believe too much. It must be too good to be true.

Love is intoxicating. It makes you hold on to thoughts of forever with faint feelings of doubt. It’s that utter happiness that deprives you of a goodnight’s sleep. There’s this stare you make, unconsciously, watching love carry on and it doesn’t have a clue until he tries to look your way. But before that, love just carries on the usual and you, for some reason, find it more fascinating than usual to watch.

You grin once he calls your name, and try your hardest not to let him know what your eyes are trying to say. There was that brief moment, you look at each other’s eyes, just that and it’s so weird because it was a stare that felt too long. Questions started building up your head wondering what love was thinking. Papers rustled, wind blew across the room and pens scratched their desks. And then time starts again with questions hanging in the air.

November 6, 2011 

now what--