Coincidence is the start of something funny, perhaps love. It’s the first curl on someone’s lips after finding out you watch the same kind of movies. It’s the plans running in your head as you talk about this quaint coffee shop most people haven’t heard of. It’s a song slowly fading in on cue when you both laugh at an old stupid joke your neighbor used to tell. It’s when you share the same opinion about politics and then decide to talk about conspiracy theories instead. It’s the excuse hopeless romantics use to meet again on this upcoming event. Coincidence stops when they finally meet on the event and went for beer after. It stops when they arrange to go out the next weekend to watch a new horror movie. It stops when they check out the quaint coffee shop and realized it wasn’t so empty like they expected it to be. It stops when they both start making time for each other just to talk about aliens and the moon landing, to listen to corny jokes and cheesy songs, to decide to officially see each other and meet again and again and again. Coincidence stops when something funny finally happens, perhaps love. And probably commitment.
with more grain
with a bit of blur
than your days
than they were
Among all the stares I know
The lustful look is the trickiest
You pass by each other at work
Then all eyes are under arrest
Across the room full of adults
Our presence craves connection
If we are locked inside four walls
Bodies will be inseparable til dawn
Time will lead you back
to old conversations
to forced messages
to sweet words
Vaguely asking questions:
has the heart healed
is the love still there
did the pain go away
are feelings just dormant?
I hope in your mind the answers land.
Film is not dead and it will never die. Old souls will always emerge and in every generation, a fraction will keep them alive.
Photo Challenge: Unusual
Upon looking at my travel albums, I realized I wasn’t able to put the pictures much into use. And when my two crazy-silly-helpful friends listed down the places I’ve been to last year, they jokingly cursed at me for not blogging travel guides. They said it’s not too late to do so but I retorted that’s not really my thing. So instead of guides, I’m just gonna be publishing photo essays instead.
Now, don’t expect too much from the photos I’ll put out as I’m an amateur when it comes to photography (with some pictures grabbed from my friends), but I hope they could somehow translate the feelings and emotions I’ve felt during my travels, which are all good.
This photo essay project from my 2016 travels will be aptly called #thestrangehertravels and through the following weeks I’ll be uploading them, maybe every Friday. Though the photo essay will probably carry on in this blog for all my travels. And so is the hashtag. Wink
The beautiful creaking sound of the wooden floor as I carefully tread the empty gallery is satisfying.
It was a territory I have always been familiar with—my well-planned steps on the way to your heart.
And just like the gallery, it’s empty.