Dear jess,
It’s thundering and threatening to rain. Inside my orange walls of my place of solace I find no sleep. Usually that’s a bad thing but it won’t be for some time.
Perhaps it’s true that I haven’t allowed myself to be deliriously happy. I remember once I was talking to my best fren about another friend and why we’ve never ever seen deliriously happy.
I get the stare.
I’ve been so afraid of being disappointed that I’ve never allowed myself to be expectant and in anticipation of anything or anyone.
I’ve forgotten how much I love the feeling of anticipation, the shivers down my spine, the racing heartbeat, and the sweaty palms.
The feeling you get from standing on the side of the stage as you wait to go on, or the feeling of love perhaps, or even the feeling of just waiting on a friend to come see you.
As if to turn against myself and what I’ve been saying all this while, I say in reverse, what is wrong with having anticipation? Of people. Of friends. Of men. Of women.
Why shouldn’t we expect people to come see us, to remember our birthdays, anniversaries, to call, to be nice, to love and be loved?
Why shouldn’t we expect men to call us and to be honest? Why shouldn’t we expect women to be nice and loving?
Why shouldn’t we raise the bars on humankind instead of letting them get away that easily?
Why have we so many times went ‘I’m use to it, he’s always late’ or ‘its ok he never calls’
It rains, cats and dogs and I remember a friend in Britain who loves our southeast Asian rain as much as I do.. and as I’m tired I smile because I’m sleepy and exhausted but deliriously happy..
I hope you will be too.
in exchange of sleep,
It’s thundering and threatening to rain. Inside my orange walls of my place of solace I find no sleep. Usually that’s a bad thing but it won’t be for some time.
Perhaps it’s true that I haven’t allowed myself to be deliriously happy. I remember once I was talking to my best fren about another friend and why we’ve never ever seen deliriously happy.
I get the stare.
I’ve been so afraid of being disappointed that I’ve never allowed myself to be expectant and in anticipation of anything or anyone.
I’ve forgotten how much I love the feeling of anticipation, the shivers down my spine, the racing heartbeat, and the sweaty palms.
The feeling you get from standing on the side of the stage as you wait to go on, or the feeling of love perhaps, or even the feeling of just waiting on a friend to come see you.
As if to turn against myself and what I’ve been saying all this while, I say in reverse, what is wrong with having anticipation? Of people. Of friends. Of men. Of women.
Why shouldn’t we expect people to come see us, to remember our birthdays, anniversaries, to call, to be nice, to love and be loved?
Why shouldn’t we expect men to call us and to be honest? Why shouldn’t we expect women to be nice and loving?
Why shouldn’t we raise the bars on humankind instead of letting them get away that easily?
Why have we so many times went ‘I’m use to it, he’s always late’ or ‘its ok he never calls’
It rains, cats and dogs and I remember a friend in Britain who loves our southeast Asian rain as much as I do.. and as I’m tired I smile because I’m sleepy and exhausted but deliriously happy..
I hope you will be too.
in exchange of sleep,
jess
3 comments:
so, tomorrow (it's still tuesday nite here) is the day-eh?
tell us all about it! we wait in anticipation!!!
hahaha *laughs nervously*
guess what? sweaty palms and racing heatbeat reminds me of... bungeeeeeeeee!
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