love

before I go on bragging about love, let me tell you something stupid.
right this very moment, writing this stupid thought, I'm supposed to get a design job done, 28 pages, full remake, and the only think that stopped me is this..

I totally forgot how to make a freagin table of contents in the Microsoft Word!!!

and so I ate, came back, and still not knowing how to do it.. felt like trading brain with an imbecile..



love,

love at the first sight to be precise..

when I was young, junior high, people keep telling me "you're having a monkey love.." saying the words as if the simple ‘love’ is just not descriptive enough, some find it interesting to call it ‘monkey’.. damn..

and so I kept wondering, so what's the plain love? how does it feel? I mean if the monkey one felt like this, than the love one would definitely feel a lot different in a better sense, right? logic!

and what is love than?

I would walk and I would find someone attractive, continue my walk and I would find someone cute, someone with a beautiful smile, gorgeous eyes, someone who knows how to carry herself... If I’m lucky enough, I would find someone whose beauty is indisputable, sometimes I find someone funny, has a lot to talk about and more to listen to, at rare days I would bump into girls with combinations of the above factors, sometimes all of these descriptions are not enough, there are too many good things to explain.

but never do I walk and find love.

my long question since junior high had been answered, by me, and I disappointed myself..

I would walk, find someone attractive, and finding nothing more, continue my walk and find someone cute, and somehow there' nothing in it. I would gaze at someone who glides, admire the way she swifts, and when she's out of sight, she's out of mind.

its gone, the instinct, the voice within you who says "she's her!!".. long gone..


love now is nothing more than a strict adaptation, the leaning towards needing and emptiness when its over.

why would people not believe in love at the first sight, when nothing compares to its joy.

why people call it monkey and move to this new, and stupid one, this 'easier to find' one, yet it is as meaningless as everything else.

love does not grow, it strikes you. love does not root, it strangles you. love does not leave an empty place, it plucks your heart away with its sudden departure. and sometimes it stays, only to gloom away.

we used to joke about Romeo and Juliet, if any of them had not accidentally killed themselves, they would have been divorced at the age of forty.. why? because like I guess everybody else in the planet, they moved to this new and stupid one they called 'love'

I know a lot about monkey love

I knew everything about it

and like an 80 year-old geezer, sitting at a porch of an even older house, I remember those days, those glorious days when the so called love really strike you with joy of finding, and stomp you with the pain of losing..









coda: this is something funny, it's been a habit for me to put my 'entire clothing collection' to a laundry every end of the month, and the same thing happen this month, I don't know whether you could get the funny part of this story I'm about to tell or not, I don't really try to put some salt in it, but apparently the woman who is supposed to be responsible for the laundry is having a baby, which in general is just bad, but worse because, the laundry is closed and I'm left.. with nothing else besides the thing I'm wearing!! so.. get a move on you little baby!!!




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this one was made a month ago.. the baby was still in the frickin belly of that women!! damn!!!!

anyways.. I got my laundry back, and like a vicious circle, I left another big pile there..