One by one they all just fade away.
For those who know the nerdy side of me long enough, you will know that I love Community. I found it during a difficult time in my life. And it gave me hope. It reminded me that everything is going to be okay. It showed me that life is chaotic, and often out of control. And everyone is trying to a better person, or in Winger’s case, trying to reach the passable.
So i want to thank you. I want to thank Dan Harmon for creating the show, I want to thank the writers who worked endless hours to perfect the show in every little details, I want to thank the ‘new’ showrunners for taking on the monstrous task of showrunning a cult-loved series, and for not failing entirely.
Sucker.
“Who am i kidding, I’m a sucker for green eyes. I’ve always been.” I thought as she stared at me, “look at those enormous eyes, so calm and enticing, it’s like staring at a bottomless pit filled with joy, i can’t look away.” And Her smile certainly wasn’t helping. Everything just seemed so natural for Her.
“Are you okay?” She asked, I guess i have been staring for a while, or at least i felt like i was lost in infinite. A quick cough to clear my throat. “Ahem yes, sorry,” clearly not making a very good first impression right now, “I was meaning to ask, how was your soy mocha?”
To whom this may concern.
I woke up with a faint chest pain, it was probably the tiny couch i slept on or something.
I raised my arm to where my phone was and grabbed it. 7 messages overnight. Okay that’s a bit more than usual.
{Elvis at a coffee shop meeting up with a woman} Candid photo, taken by Alfred Wertheimer
I went to the “Who shot Rock and Roll” exhibition today. It was beautiful, inspiring and humanizing all at the same time. I have always been fond of music and photography, and it’s wonderful to see the stories behind these iconic shots. The exhibition ends in March and I’d recommend anyone who like music to check it out.
(via phoebebuffay12-deactivated20130)
Gambler.
I’m trying to write down this feeling in my gut while staring at this blank screen.
I miss that.
Having that special someone with me, cuddling in a bed, slowly undressing each other, and just lie there. Together. Comfortably. Sex doesn’t have to come into it, we can lay there and feel each other’s skin touching against our own. Having my arms wrap around her. Sharing our warmth and listen to each other’s heartbeat. Holding each other tight while we talk about whatever’s on our mind. Listening to her as she speaks and respond accordingly. Closing our eyes as our lips touch. In that moment she appears in my conscious, becoming my soulmate and transforming into part of my mind forever. Then we stare into each others’ eyes and whisper those three words.
Fuck me. And they said “Romance is dead”.
There will always be things I wish would happen differently, but life isn’t about do overs.
Footsteps.
“Good God, you’re a splitting image of your father, did anyone ever tell you that?”, he asked, with great enthusiasm.
“Only always.” I responded lazily, it wasn’t anything I haven’t heard before, I’ve been hearing it since the day I was born, and i will keep hearing it until the day I die. “They also say I’m as stubborn as my mother.”
“Now that doesn’t surprise me,” he quipped, “the same stare, same wit, and same soul. You both have the same arrogance in you.”
“Or we just call that pride.”
Fairy lights.
I looked at my ceiling much like one would gaze upon the stars. I can’t believe it’s been more than a year since I have these in my room. where have you been, I thought to myself.
The truth is I have been procrastinating. I have delayed putting them up since I moved more than 3 months ago. Meanwhile they were imprisoned by their little cardboard box sitting in a lone corner of my room, I kept myself busy though. Or perhaps I was actually avoiding, and i haven’t been honest with myself. I haven’t been happy.
When one hears such statement, an instant assumption would be that one is depressed. Fortunately that was not the case. I wasn’t happy, nor was I depressed. I was merely in a state of apathy. I was numb since last October and I simply didn’t give a fuck about most things.
But under false pretense, I have smiled. I have laughed. I made jokes on a daily basis because that is how I deal with everything. I have been hiding…until recently. Yes, until my cousin passed away. Yes, i could feel the pain even though I’m thousand miles away. But this pain. This grief. This choking feeling in my gut. It motivates me. It forces me to work harder to forget the pain.
“Maybe that’s why we’re best friends, we’re both emotional retards who works hard to avoid dealing with grief.”
As selfish as this will sound, it made me thankful for surviving since the day I was born, it reminds me that I was an accidental baby, a fortunate accident as my father would say, serendipity. Death occasionally reminds that I don’t want to live forever so I should probably start living again soon…Carpe diem, and have a fucking birthday cake!
I rested on my silky pillow, my eyes remained shut, and for the first time in five months, I truly smiled.
Andy.
Andy learns stuff.
I have been doing something new lately.
It wasn’t intentional, but recently I found myself learning something new every wednesday. It might be the fact that I don’t watch tele as much as I used to, or there is nothing interesting on wednesday nights, or the fact that I’m trying to save money by not drinking as often anymore.
But for the past few wednesdays, i found myself learning interesting…well basically random shit I can use at random happenstance.
3 weeks ago I learned how to make plum wine, last week I learned (and perfected) the cup song from Pitch Perfect…and this week I learned how to tie a bow tie properly (Bow ties were cool! Like 3 years ago).
I never knew why I looked them up. I never knew why I spend 30-40 minutes searching and practicing to perfect the skills. All I know is that it is kinda nerdy but exciting learning all this new stuff. And if I ever need to attend a cocktail party and perform the cup song while discussing plum wine (because it totally happens in life). I would be prepared, just like a good boy scout I was.
And thanks Charles for your informative youtube video. Yo the man?
Andy. =)
India.
As a recreational wordsmith and seasonal traveler, I have been trying to summarize my impression of India so far. The most noticeable feature would be the smell.
However it would be unjust if I simply state India has a terrible smell. It is a lot more than that. It is as if you decide to have sex with no showers for a week in an airtight closet: multiply that by an entire country and you might get 1% of what is approximately the aforementioned aroma. It is as if the whole country is governed by bad body odour and no one dare to comment, in fear of getting socially executed for being the one who spoke up against the totalitarian regime of suffocating scent.
But it’s more than that. It’s more than the smell of India that makes this country special. It’s their lack of personal spaces, their cultural norms, their cuisines, and so, so much more.
