Currently Playing: Something For Kate-Cigarettes and Suitcases.
I instinctively picked up the phone this morning and texted the first person that came to mind.
"Omg I am in dire need of a conversation that does not revolve around guys, girls, dating, shopping, gossip…there’s only so much I can handle.."
The reply came:
"So start talking, u know I don’t talk about that stuff..The only time we talk about shoes is when we mock each other’s..hehe.."
Then came the laugh. This is why no matter how seldom I see her around campus, or how we accuse each other of stalking when we do meet, or how we say so little during our dates, she just gets it.
Estrogen overload is just not my scene, and when there are no guys on site for a break from the general female crowd (we have our moments), she always comes along to play saviour.
Thanks for not being a girlfriend today. I just needed a mate to hang with. Exchange healthy talk. Reactivate some of my brain cells. Philosophy, psychology…always gets to us.
I owe you, girl.
—————
So tonight was nice. Lutfi’s home for the weekend. SACE finals coming up. Had a talk with Ummi about women’s rights in Islam over the frying kuali. Jokes from the younger kids. Cleared up the kitchen with everyone afterwards.
Tonight was nice.
Tonight also called for the cue where I bang my head in sheer embarassment.
Thank God it had no chance to manifest into something more serious, or it would have been a definite disaster.
Adalah.
—————-
Murni once called me a cynic.
Yani reinforced that statement by pointing out that she could be telling me the most heartbreaking love story that transcends the boundaries of all time, and I’d muster a response that would unconvincingly amount to a passive "Uh…yeah."
I do beg your pardon, but there’s a significant difference between a cynic and a romantic cynic. I fall under the latter category, the definition of which differs with each individual. I’ll reveal my interpretation of this self-coined term in a later entry.
I have a reputation for having a heart of steel when it comes to the dreaded "L" word–a misconception I’d very much like to correct. Au contraire, I do believe in Love. I believe in its existence, its magic, the heavenly feeling it evokes. I suppose the distinction that can be drawn between my belief and the belief of others is that mine stops where perception stops. I believe in the idea of Love; there is no doubt the theory of Love is one that’s very appealing.
Unfortunately, its people I don’t believe in. I have seen enough cases where it isn’t that Love fails, but rather it’s a failure of people when they subject Love to their own whims and fancies and fiddle with it as though it were a toy.
I suppose most would call me foolish to be scarred by other people’s experiences rather than my own, and most would say I cannot declare outrightly that I have earned the right to say what Love is until I go through it all the way. In fact, most would label me a coward for even daring to declare such a dastardly statement without even daring to experience it for myself.
Who made up that rule anyway?
Even if Love cannot be judged hypothetically, then what of familial love, or love for the Almighty? How come they don’t count?
That’s different, they counter.
Ah, I never did like to conform anyway.
And yet, every now and then, I find pictures like this and I can’t help but smile. For a brief instant, a split second, a passing moment…I find myself believing in that aspect of Love.
Its the simplicity of it all.
Passenger Seat by Death Cab For Cutie
I roll the window down
And then begin to breathe in
The darkest country road
And the strong scent of evergreen
From the passenger seat as you are driving me home.
Then looking upwards
I strain my eyes and try
To tell the difference between shooting stars and satellites
From the passenger seat as you are driving me home.
"do they collide?"
I ask and you smile.
With my feet on the dash
The world doesn’t matter.
When you feel embarrassed then i’ll be your pride
When you need directions then i’ll be the guide
For all time.
For all time.
So. Who would you like to be in the driver’s seat?
Enough said here.
