This thing between us, the way i feel about you, the way you feel about me, is just like listening to this one song by butterfingers, vio pipe. It’s a good song, it’s magic, but i just don’t seem to be able to get in because the song is instrumental there’s no vocal and i don’t play any instrument.
You and i, we both are like vio pipe.
It’s just wasn’t meant to be.
I am always facinated by their love for one another.
And i love how they could cling to each other without being clingy.
And how both could talk about poops without sounding so poopy.
It’s not so bad eh, being in love with your own best friend.
I remember back then, i was sitting at the back seat of Abdullah’s old car, trapped in a jam in the middle of the city where hippie old ladies are voluntarily working as the entertainers and streets are filled with vintage vibes, it no longer felt like 2013.
I saw people passing by, they varies in physicality, i wondered what they felt about themselves. The begger who kept on staring at the floor, thinking perhaps. The bangla man with his bright red shirt on, sociallizing. The sad looking makcik.
And so i decided to remove this cloudy layer, right before my eyes and it’s called stereotype, i couldn’t believe i have this, but at the same time, i’m not gonna deny it.
So i looked at each and every details of them whole, their smile, their laugh, their stare, their hair, their walk, their talk, and i’m not going to bore you with all these, so i’m gonna get this thing straight: the way they are.
And i couldn’t believe my eyes. But i believe that they were not lying.
These people, they are beautiful, but they just don’t know it. And i hate that because they need to know it. And i was at the edge of yelling, telling them. You are beautiful!
But Abdullah drove away, the road was clear and i was stunned. And there was nothing i could do about it.
IF SOMEONE MAKES YOU FEEL BAD FOR THE BANDS YOU LISTEN TO OR THE WAY YOU TAKE YOUR COFFEE OR HOW YOU WEAR YOUR HAIR OR WHAT YOU WEAR OR THE WAY YOUR LAUGH SOUNDS THEN FUCKING DROP THEM LIKE THE PIECE OF SHIT THEY ARE AND GO FIND SOMEONE WHO THINKS YOUR LAUGH SOUNDS LIKE THE BEST GODDAMN SONG THEY’VE EVER HEARD AND OFFERS TO MAKE YOUR COFFEE FOR YOU AND THINKS YOU DRESS LIKE ART
I believe that happiness is meant for everyone and that each and everyone of us have our own choices and that sadness is just temporary.
And i believe that we are under the obligation to choose what’s right for us.
And that is by making a little room in our heart, for happiness.
Well, maybe not just a little.
what happens when two people are praying for the same thing?
who gets it?
is it going to be based on sincerity?
so then, should i just sit and let others win?