02-16-2011Wednesday


The weekly meeting dragged on, a monotonous hum in the background as my mind drifted elsewhere. A small mercy, the boss's absence, relieving the usual weight upon my shoulders. Yet, even in his absence, I couldn't shake the feeling of being an outsider, a mere spectator in this mundane dance of corporate life.


As the meeting concluded, a familiar sense of relief washed over me, like the gentle caress of a warm breeze on a sultry afternoon. But this respite was short-lived, for my thoughts soon turned to her – the one whose mere presence set my heart aflutter, like a butterfly caught in a gentle whirlwind.02-17-2011
Thursday


The jeepney ride home, once a simple commute, had become a battleground of emotions. Her proximity, a tantalizing temptation, threatened to unravel the carefully constructed facade I had woven around my heart. Each stolen glance, a silent plea for courage, only to be met with the bitter taste of cowardice upon my tongue.


In a desperate attempt to regain control, I found myself wandering aimlessly through the familiar corridors of the mall, a silent sanctuary amidst the cacophony of city life. Yet, even here, my mind betrayed me, conjuring visions of her radiant smile, her melodic laughter echoing through the halls like a siren's call.


As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of crimson and gold, I found myself standing before the familiar shelves of the grocery store, clutching items I had no need for. A silent admission of defeat, a futile attempt to fill the void within with material possessions.


In these quiet moments, I couldn't help but wonder – when did life become a series of fleeting moments, each one slipping through my fingers like grains of sand? When did the simple act of existing become a constant struggle against the tides of longing and desire?


Yet, even as these questions lingered, unanswered, a glimmer of hope remained. For in the depths of my soul, I knew that someday, perhaps, the whispers of longing would give way to the symphony of fulfillment, and the world would once again be painted in vibrant hues of possibility.