November 20, 2007

She

She is my greatest dream.
She is the one I've yearned for, to be with me all my life.
She is my one true love.
She is the one I want to be with in this unstable, complicated, and palpak na lovelife.

This is not a poem. Nor it is a song.

Fucking life. I want some few years back. The days where this girl and I could hang out all day, stay in each other's arm, and just experience incomparable bliss. Joke around the whole afternoon. Share lunch. Hold each other's hands. Feel each other's skin. Touch each other's faces. Kiss each other's lips. Suck each other's tongue. Lick each other's genitals. Taste each other's sweat. Nibble on each other's nipples.

This is not Xerex. I don't even know if he's still alive or not.

Such actions are truly and greatly missed.

It's the feeling you get when you were back in highschool and your crush makes daan in front of you. Warm. Exciting. You want to puke your heart out for pumping so hard.

Feelings can never be described well. Just feel it.

I need time travel. Badly.

Would someone just pop out right beside me, with this cool time-travelling gadget or vibrator stuck up on their holes and tell me that they are from the future. And that they are willing to let me experience both the past and the future for only a low,low,low price of ten pesos an hour. Let me get back to the place where I was talking to you and trying to settle what was left of us.

Let me do what I should've done. And that is to take you back and never said anything so stupid.

I should've pulled my balls tightly and tell you the reality that I really want you here. That I could do what is necessary. That I could do what you want me to do.

I should've never said those things. Those silly, fucking sentences. Those words in Tagalog and in English, and also in Taglish and Coniotic English.

I should've. I should've. I should've.

Repeat X 3.

Where is Einstein when you needed him. Please explain the possibility of time travel. I need a dose of it. I need a pinch of it. Heck, I'm not even asking for a lot.

God, is that even possible? How come Hermione can do it?

Wait a minute. Why would I be so stuck on this girl, if what I can do is just travel back in time and be Elisha Cuthbert's super long time best buddy-wuddy sex slave male acquaintance?

That would be so much fun. The girl next door, fucking my brains out. All that blonde lusciousness. All that sexy aura she possess.

Elisha. Sorry for mentioning this much about you. I apologize.

And to the girl of my dreams? It's okay. I can handle myself. Call it immature or whatever, but it's okay. Don't let me be the reason to hold you back and love someone. I'll just cry my retina off and I'd be okay.

My greatest dream of tasting your skin again may never-ever happen, but at least your happy.

Thank you. I'm sorry. I love you.

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