if snowflakes come at summer...

if i were a star that shines brightly in the evening...
would i be noticed by all?

if i were a snowflake that came at the summer, will you be the one who'll catch me
when i fall?

will you be there at times no one expected me to come?

will you be my knight in shining armor, when i'll be just a commoner?

will you be my best friend when i won't have any friend at all?

will you be my C's among all the D's?

will you be the right of every wrong?

will you be there...

...waiting...

... just waiting, for every promise I make, for every word that I say, for every deadline that I miss, will you just be there, and wait anyway?

will you worry when I get lost?

will you try to help me when I'm confused?

will you give me water, when drought comes?

I doubt it.

But, I'll hope anyways...

...I'll hope for that change to come, I'll wait even if you don't.

I'll wait anyways. Why?

Because there's nothing more one could ask for than for someone just waiting-- even if they don't say it.

sand in a jar. .

Memories I keep remain kept. All these memories are like sand in a jar. Every step I take when I walk on the seashore too near toward the waters represent another step I take in life. I am nothing more than just imagination, but these feelings I have are more than real.



It's been what? More than a year since I had someone who confessed his feelings to "me". He's a rock I never thought I'd ever own. He was a boulder too big and too heavy to carry. He was someone I thought I'd ignore and just pass by. Now, he's a rock within reach, a rock that I could own whenever I want. A boulder turned into a light pillow. A big heavy object turned into pieces, as small as a rock. His thoughts and feelings, I know. He tells me everything. It seems that every thing he tells me becomes a part of me. It's like a little substance -- like a very little mineral or a crystal of sand. Every little substance is kept in my jar. This jar of mine is half full. Every time he fills my jar, I become softer. I promised myself not to become soft. I promised myself to throw all the rocks that come my way into the sea because it is where it should belong. Where it all belongs.



Am I changing? I can't be. I stand firm to the ground I stand on-- always. If I do get weak, and he catches me, will I accept him and be willing to forget every rock I had? Am I really ready to make him my only rock? Is he even worth it? He won't hurt me, I'm sure of that, but will I not be able to hurt him? I may be strong and firm (and so I think I was), but I have been very indecisive ever since. Will I risk everything just to be happy for a very short time, and hurt someone special for a long time?

-mi cherie (originally written 03/2008)

teardrops are liquid

"he's the reason for the teardrops on my guitar" - Taylor Swift "Teardrops On My Guitar"

I've always had a friend. I once had a very close guy friend. Well, I made him that. It was almost forced, but it worked out anyway. It worked out in a way that we weren't more than just close friends. I hoped it would be, but it never did. Happiness is about being content, and I think it was better off being just that than the other way around. At least I'm near him, and I could be near him as long as I want to.

There are disadvantages and advantages for being just the close friend. I could be near him, talk to him about random things, share with him some bizarre and very nonsensical stories, tell him my secrets and would not be awkward about it, and a lot more. The only thing that I couldn't do is tell him what I feel, and isn't that what hurts the most? Not telling a close friend what I feel is like a never-ending flame-- everytime you see that person, it sparks back and seems to burn you heart bit by bit until you couldn't feel anything anymore. I know it's a bit brutal, but isn't it something like that? Does anyone know how this feels? Can anyone relate to what I felt?

Well, there was a time when I tried to stop that flame. I told him once, but jokingly. I wondered if he believed me. I was nervous at that time, but I just wanted it to be over with. I thought things would go a little bit roughly, and that I would risk a friendship that lasted for years yet seemed less like it, but things went a bit differently. He just stood there, listened then smiled, and said, "I know." I thought we understood each other. We continued on with our lives being friends. I thought I had what I've been thinking of for many nights. One day came after the other. He still stayed the same, nothing changed. Then he said to me, "I know you like me, well, you should, that's what every girl says." I didn't know what to say. Was I like the others? Was I one of them? Was I just like every other girl he knew? I didn't want to ask another question. I am like the others. I'm just another girl he knew. I am one of them.

Teardrops when mixed with water, are just the same matter. Teardrops are liquid. Just liquid.

-mi cherie

my reaSon for existing...

existence means being present, being there...
i exist because i am created by thought.

I live by the words that reveal the true meaning of one's life, one's feelings, one's story. I am real in a sense that I survive through one's thoughts. I tell the story of a unique individual, that is why I exist. I love and have loved, and love is something vast and complicated. Love comes and goes, but the thought is what remains.

Have you read the "Little Prince" by Antoine Saint-Exupery? It is a wonderful book. It's meaning is very enlightening. It's rather heart-breaking at times, but the thought of love is still there. The delicate rose still lives for the young prince. I could be either the prince or the rose. I could be one or the other, or even both. I live because I love. I always thought that I have lived a thousand lives, and yet in every life I lived, I still got hurt. I don't think the hurt in loving ever goes away, but I never stop loving. I tried to, but it still does not make the hurt go away.

It's not always hurt that you will feel when you love. I loved a hundred times before. I loved and still love everyone around me. I love the flowers, who are my friends by the way, they never leave me during the springtime yet they sleep during the winter. I love the sun, he is always there when I am awake, and waits for me when I am asleep. The moon is there to watch me everytime I close my eyes, making sure there is light when I suddenly wake. The stars, I won't forget, are with the moon at night never failing to make me smile. Ah! I love them all! The trees, the birds, the sand, the squirrels, the rocks, the shadows, I love every one of them. Even the newcomers to the world I always knew of, the cars, the posts, the buildings, skyscrapers, even the coins and cups-- I still welcome them. Even though they hurt me, I still fail to hurt them back.

But, not only do I love them. No. I love other things as well, I love other people as well. I once had a rose of my own-- or shall I say, a rock of my own. Yes, he was the softest rock I have ever owned. I loved him so much, but not enough to repay his love for me then. I threw the rock away to the sea, because by that I would have let him be free. I knew he would be happy when someone would find him and pick him up and love him more than I did. I thought what I did was right, but boy, was I wrong! Now, I don't own him anymore. Now he is just like any other rock I see randomly. I want to know what he thinks or what he feels, but I just can't do that anymore. He's out of my reach, I guess. I hurt a lot for so long that it seemed like ages, but now I'm happy because I still love despite of that. I can still smile knowing that I still have the sun, the moon, the stars, the flowers, the mountains, and everything around me. I learned, yes I did, but it doesn't mean that I learned to hate. No! I don't want to hate. Hate is such a strong word. I just learned to still love despite of getting hurt. So now, no matter how many rocks are thrown to me, how many times I get hurt by them rocks, I would not budge, I will still stay firm on my word--that I will still love the way I do, and set free of the rocks the way I did.

-mi cherie