I look around and see...people. Family, friends, foes, co-workers, former classmates, strangers...people. Every once in a while i stop and focus on one person and to my pleasure (or disgust) I find myself processing, dissecting, self-explaining, critiquing and immersing myself in my insights, memoirs and what-ifs about the person i'm focusing on.
Sometimes that's a way for me to release stress. Sometimes that's me just being mean, or nice, or bored, or high. Sometimes that's just me with a big crush (or grudge.)
Out of every couple dozen of people i spend time thinking of there would sometimes be one or two who would stand out. Usually this is because the person has either triggered my biatch mode, made me so freaking curious about himself/herself, or has swept me away with a sea of inspiration.
*shift*
It's funny how one thing leads to another. One moment I'm staring blankly into the window, then i'm rattling my keyboard, then i'm blogging without knowing what to blog about so i type my mind away, then i find something to back up my blog with, then i ransack old files and find a poem that is related to my post. What next? Anyway here's a poem written a while back as I was spending time thinking of someone. I'm glad to say this time i was thinking NOT because she turned my biatch mode on, neither because of sheer curiosity but because of inspiration.
*shift*
Wonder when my first coherent blog post would be? Hah! That would be the day.
*shift*
Anyway here's the poem.
Maybe
-rey
Maybe it’s the way you look at me with inquisitive eyes.
Maybe it’s the way you listen to my stories, sobs and sighs.
Maybe it’s the way you stun me with your frankness.
Maybe it’s the way you irritate me with your stubborness.
Maybe it’s the way you smile when I offer you a massage.
Maybe it’s the way you react when I ask questions,
how you dive and dodge.
Maybe it’s the way you gave me a chance, all those fateful days.
Maybe it’s the way you believed in me despite hear-says.
Maybe it’s the way you push me, or the way you pull.
Maybe it’s how cute you are when you pretend to be a fool.
Maybe its your little quips and antics.
Maybe it’s your jokes, wether corny, slapstick or satiric.
Maybe it’s the way you fall asleep as we talk.
Maybe it’s the way you do your signature walk.
Maybe its your spirituality and your set of principles.
Maybe it’s the way you make fun of me, how you jeer and giggle.
Maybe it’s the way you love and treat your family.
Maybe it’s the way you love and accept me for me.
Maybe it’s the confidence you give me when you’re in my car.
Maybe…maybe it’s because you’re not afraid
to be exactly who you are.
DISCLAIMER: I shall not be held responsible for injury, illness, insanity or death due to the effects of reading, digesting and contemplating on the works and thoughts of my bored psyche which have been published on this site. Hehehe. Surf these pages at your own risk.
