Sensible Cubicle: June 2008

obsolete psychosomatic.

i love you, i know that. we're not meant to be together, i know that. and that makes me the villain behind all this? I'm here. but my mind keeps on wandering around. they found their way out of reality, into a state of obsolete. I've tried to obliterate you from my head. my cellphones. my virtual accounts. my life. but the more I try to erase you, the more you appear. i would love to love you. but the impediment, involves one of the most significant aspect of life. salute for fucking faith! i got bruises all over my hands. you know how i grinds my hands badly when I'm stressed out? now there's abraded areas all over. you made a psychosomatic out of me. yet, I'll still love you long time. is that you, signing in?

for the love of love.

I love the way you listen to me when I’m babbling about the enigmas of life –or when I’m purely psycho babbling— You look at me and I know you know that I’m having a stressful day. I love how you conduct such manner to know when to give feedbacks without irritatingly judging the case, or when to provide a shoulder to rely on. I love it when you tangle my hair with your fingers and let them slip away, or when you let me touches your ears when it's freezing out there (you know how I love 'cold' ears). I love it when you spew those sweet words without the word ‘cliché’ written on your forehead, or when you pull such spoiler acts for such romantic scenes when we’re alone by ourselves. I love it when you accompany me to see my fave flick, or when you try to stay awake during the film (oh yes, I recognized those sleepy eyes!) And as a friend told me earlier, I hate relationships, but I love being in love. ps: yes dear, this note is about you.

deep city diving.

biosynthesis scene.

I used to put on a happy face. But of course, there’s this weird load you have. A pint a day keeps the demon at bay, and keeps my insanity in its cage. And yes, I strutted myself into this bar. Masturbating alligators turned their heads to me. Yet, I chose the chair far left, to avoid their nymph looks. Dubious facts made their way inside my head. Penetrating badly, it caused headache and made me blink a few times to snub it. My consciousness is evolving. And no, dear, you’re not there, yet. And that’s why I raised my hand and asked the bunny for another glass. Someone came. The alligator’s approaching. I can smell his filthy shirt with my brain, dipped in germs and wombats from nine to five. I thwarted the sickness within my stomach, and forced another glass of beer into my mouth, gladly. I overheard another alligator talking with the bunny waitress. He cast a spell on her with his sagacious words, And there she stands still, looking gullible than ever. Oh, you arrived already. Sitting right next to me with that exhausted expression, You never realized that you just vanquished my boredom. “You look disgruntled,” I said. “These meetings been wearing me off,” you replied. So I rubbed the back of your neck, And you finished your first glass. “I’m going to the ladies room. I’ll be waiting for you. One minute,” I said. You nodded. Less than one minute later, you entered the set. I kissed you. You kissed me. I closed my eyes and I see images, appeared in my head like a slide from an over head projector. Tongues. Hands. Breath. Nails. Estrogens. Testosterones. We’re making a biosynthesis scene, aren’t we? And I throw my happy mask away. I don’t need it no more.