Friday, October 21, 2005

 

10.20.05

Commecialist can be rearranged to spell out microclimate.

And there was reason to dance.

By the way, just because you're a virgin or don't choose to drink, doesn't mean you're not cool.

Why would it even be an issue in the first place?

Stick to you guns and be who you want to be.

People are chill like that.

=-=-=

She spoke with a pleasant flow that was smooth, like a member of the Rat Pack. Not overly complicated, one was swayed into her conversations and just as easily became interested. While her beauty is what initially drew attention, her intelligent and witty banter were what made men linger.

She had a cute appeal that made her a precious commodity. One wasn't blinded by lust when it came to her- men wanted to handle her gently like a china doll. She was a fragile wonder that required the utmost devotion, attention and care and to do otherwise would be a crime.

And just the same, her movements were like strokes of calligraphy- smooth, elegant and fluent. When done moving from A to B, one couldn't help but redraw the path in their minds, the picture created by the various points worthy enough to be imprinted in one's head.

It would not be out of the ordinary to find men retracing her steps, hoping to find within those invisible walkways to key to unlocking this lovely love's love.

But unbeknownst to them, the secret lay in the emollient wind.

Just as it sporadically flowed in different directions, so did her taste in men. She wanted so badly to fall in love that it could've been anyone, as long as they were in the right place at the right time. She had gone through so much heartbreak that she gave up looking.

But her emotional pain stemmed not from the men, but from herself.

She embarassingly owned a lengthy track record of beaus from every facet of life and of every personality type. She went through men like a child to candy- each time finding herself hungrier and hungrier. Unhappy with each one, she moved on, though she felt guilty with every turn down.

To her, dating more resembled shopping with unlimited returns.

At this point, she was jaded, convinced that she had found the best out there and was still not satisfied. She joked that she suffered from romantic ADD but she often worried that she had passed up the one.

And whenever she had worry on her mind, she went to that same place. It was her own private spot where she could just listen to the one thing that she could relate to- the wind.

It would flow from this way to that and it always made the same soft whistle of a bellow, much like her exhales when, again, she had not found the one. This particular evening, she shut her eyes into a meditative state, intently focused on the faint calls of the violent gales. Translating it's message, she painted a path in her mind, following it with closed eyes. Slowly, she refurbished her sight.

In view was the one boy she wouldn't have thought of.

Of course, only he would have known the path to her depths.

Though she hardly recognized him, she felt a warmth beside him. So many oxymorons and contradictions were included in this paradox, and for once, she had no idea where this tunnel was leading.

She smiled.

She knew.

That unknown is what love is all about.

=-=-=

Docking out...
-Ryan : jam, groove, bounce

Ryan posted this at 6:26 AM.