Nonexistent
No one took a risk
Some wanted it ASAP
Others later,
Never
But fear took over
Step one
Stare
Step two
Heart beats faster
Step three
Fear takes over
Still nonexistent
‘Coz no one took a risk
No one wants to risk
A friendship
A connection
A lasting relation
Step four
Miss the chance
A love story remains
Hidden,
Slowly being forgotten
We’re all a little weird. And life’s a little weird. And when we find someone whose weirdness is compatible with ours, we join up with them and fall into mutually satisfying weirdness- and call it LOVE- true love. ~Robert Fulghum
Women wish to be loved not because they are pretty, or good, or well bred, or graceful, or intelligent, but because they are themselves. – Henri Frederic Amiel
Sometimes I am not sure if I am going to call myself a pop culture junkie or not. There are instances when I really follow a certain trend or sudden entertainment outburst, but other times I am this old spirit in a young lady’s body enjoying my simple corner in the room. In between all those, I have noticed that several books, songs, TV shows, and movies have shaped my personal idea about love and relationship. This is my personal take on it and I am not sure if others can relate as well, but there must be even just a tiny piece of influence in all of us.
I can find both the cynical people and the hopeless romantics in the same scenario of having their inspiration from their favorite show, book, or song. This is how our society is molded. In my country, the Philippines, we are Asians in the facade, but most of our rooting are cluttered western practices, beliefs, and dreams. However, I would not make this as a generalization because there are still some rare species among us (and I don’t really want to make a fight). Anyway, as I was trying to find this specific meaning to love, I am overwhelmed with the hope movies project.
They say I’m a good-for-nothing person. Though there are times I really think they are right.
But most of the days they’re wrong.
—
Oh my, how long have we known each other?
Fifteen, twenty years perhaps.
I know every little bit about you.
The way you look into my eyes. The way we talk for ages and still laugh at each other’s jokes.
I even remember the time we made our first ride on a Ferris wheel.
That was an amazing night, wasn’t it?
—
Everyone was falling in line to get their asses on the coolest ride at the carnival. I do remember how tricky you were.
Oh, those were the days.
Well, that was the only day.
—
You scared away those girls and told them that the ride was very dangerous. That when they sit and go up to the highest point, they’ll fall.
They’ll scream a loud noise which may or may not get the attention of everyone. The last scream they’ll ever make. The last sound of their voices.
But they don’t know anything!
They easily believed what you said.
—
Seriously? Screaming!
That’s the only thing you said and they were gone from the long line.
You were really that good ey?
But let’s say I was better.
—
My dear old friend, we’ve been meeting this way far too long but I’m still fascinated.
You were my first, you know.
My very first.
Many have told me that it’s difficult to forget your first.
Oh boy, they were right!
I could still smell the rush of the blood through my veins.
I could still feel the scent of screams in the air.
I still hear the attention you were receiving that night.
They remembered you up to this day but they never looked at me.
