the air of headquarter

when you start thinking that everyone looks older than they really are

you must be in the headquarter

when you start treating your friends as foes

you must have inhaled the air of conceit

when you start downgrading other people

you must be necessitating your self-righteousity

when you start having meetings more than your daily meals

you must have passed the days in nausea

when you start exaggerating about your virtues

you must have fallen prey to greed

when you start digging in your deepest breath

you must be totally down and out

when you start painfully craving to your sacred necropolis

you must have been in deluded obedience
when you start drowning in humdrum patterns
you must have been in wit's end

when you start asking where you really want to be

you must be at loose end

rats, is this place really something to die for?

how many sorries to make it forgiven?

about three days ago, a friend of mine thought that i have committed the shittiest thing in our camaraderie on account of not passing an info on my odyssey to the most beautiful part of this crowded city. i had my own reason of course. it nonetheless never crossed my half-wit mind that it would somehow do a bit harm on her. i totally had no slightest inclination to bring about any casualties on my conduct, but then...who would guarantee that everyone would be on the same page as i was?

after asking some friends who were previously on the same shoes, i asked for forgiveness from her and prayed that maybe someday i wouldn't be a shit-ass anymore. but then...who would guarantee that your good will shall be directly gratified with forgiveness? in the end, as quoted from another friend, maybe...maybe she just needs her space to calm herself. the question, my friend, is how many sorries to make it forgiven? albeit not necessarily to be forgotten..

on the bench

he was sitting on the bench
while she tiptoed on the yellow green grass
easy and no pretension
simple talks and bursting laughter here and there
the surrounding was flawlessly enveloped by soothing tone

“is this for real?” she asked
did he inhale the same air in between them?
would he dare to blow out the magical numb to the blue gray sky?

sunday indeed never comes too late dear
for it’s still such a gorgeous sight for her
to eye him in the middle of dry afternoon