Sunday, June 03, 2007

 

06.03.07

The world can't adapt to you, so you must adapt to it.

Life's too serious to be taken seriously, so adjust accordingly.

It's not the hand that you're dealt, but how you play with your cards.

Gotta roll with the punches.

This time, taking my own advice.

While they may not have aided in developing my malleable nature, my parents sure had a definite hand in my situation perspectives.

It's amazing. She's gets laid off, and she turns it into a humorous scenario.

She trades in an ML and gets a Miata.

And she already has a big plan made in the span of a 3-day arc.

I'm developing a language and I'm calling it my own.

I intend to save a world.

So, I'm on the train and it's about to come to a stop, right?

An old lady posts up next to me.

Now, it's a simple law of physics: what's in motion wants to stay in motion.

I know that this lady is not ready for the jolting lapse in motion when the train makes its stop.

So, I put my arm behind her just in case it's a big jolt and she falls.

I put my arm on the wrong side.

It is a big jolt.

She hits the ground.

Fortunately, she's not tremendously hurt-- bruises, tops.

I help her up, with the aid of another young girl next to us.

I help take her bags, against her modest suggestions that I shouldn't.

And all I could think about was, "I should have known she would've moved toward that side."

Or even, "I should've boxed her in."

No, I'm not trying to be the good guy.

Really.

For whatever odd reason, I am compelled to help people.

It's weird how now I find myself restraining myself from going over here and there every now and then.

Sure, it may not be my responsibility.

They should be able to handle it on their own, yeah?

That's not always the case.

Sometimes, I feel like I'm always performing.

And I get the distinct feeling that I'm never really in a state of down-time.

But I really like it when people smile, regardless of whether I assisted in its creation or not.

And once again, it's the questions.

It's the questions.

Always the questions.

Every time I get close. It's the damn questions.

No, I'm not stressing, but feel like I'm questing.

Musing or abusing, or I am plain testing?

I'm feeling arrested. At times compressed and

don't know what I'm feeling and my mind is congested.

She has my attention, my thoughts she's infested.

Anonymous suggestion, a real world connection.

Gorgeous complexion, an object of affection.

A perfect reflection, my main contention.

Bouts of retention, apprehension, and prevention.

Yet, if she were the teacher, I would go to detention.

Don't know how I long I could milk this extension.

Constantly on my mind when it reaches the day's end.

Always finding myself turning in her direction.

Docking out...
-Ryan : jibba-jabba, cada-va

Ryan posted this at 3:32 PM.