I have been made conscious today of some near possible changes that might happen and I am currently upset about it. I've been reassured that things wouldn't change but isn't that just the biggest deception of all?  I'm not saying I was intentionally deceived but rather, I think that's the lie we love to feed ourselves with.

Things aren't going to change.
We are inseparable.
Pretty much that we're forever, isn't it?

I know we all wish with all of ourselves that all the good things wouldn't end. However, we also know that the only certain thing in life is change (that and death and taxes). So things will eventually change. Just like how they did back then.

I'm just blessed enough to have been given a chance to have you in my life and have known something real and priceless. Maybe I haven't said it but I hope you do know how much you mean to me. Thank you for letting me see myself in your eyes and what I saw was someone truly loved and precious. I hope you know that you're one of those things that just makes life for me beautiful.

I'm afraid to lose you to change.  I hope I never do. I pray change will be kind to us just like how it was before we got to this. If heaven will continue to smile upon us, we will find ourselves changing for the better and for a more blissful amity and understanding.

I have spoiled myself to getting used to be your number one and perhaps, part of it is your fault, too. I am loving being on the top because it's never lonely there with you. But eventually, I know you will find her, the one you were meant to have as your prize and I will have no say in the matter. I will be replaced and I'll be broken but I will be happy because I know you will be happy with her.

She will have every right to claim you from me and I will have no stake on you because  you will be her's and  you will pledge yourself to her. I will lose you and you will  find yourself and that is the tragedy of us.

Perhaps, it is indeed true. Girls and boys can never really be friends. At least not forever. It's times like these I truly abhor growing up.

I am selfish and I don't want to share you. I indulge myself too much in you and with you. Would you hold it against me to want to cling on to something that makes me feel good about myself? I'm shameless and selfish. I am proud to have found someone so easily but that takes a lifetime to some people.

I'm compelled to ask if you know that I love you but knowing you for the fool that you are, I know just what exactly you're going to say.

p.s.
I love you. Fool.

We've all heard about remarks about beauty being superficial and shallow. We all have declared our two cents over the matter and perhaps, at one time or another have said that it's what's inside that counts. I'm sure there will be some that'll say that looks do matter but only to an extent.

If given a chance to pick between a beautiful face and a good character, I'm sure a majority of us would pick the latter but it would be highly hypocritical of us to deny that at some brief nano-second we did not entertain a thought about the beautiful face. We have, and the fact is, we always will.

When we begin to consider a person to be beautiful, we never miss to scrutinize the face. What is it about a face? A woman can have the most alluring body but if she doesn't have a beautiful face, then she just couldn't be considered beautiful. She can be sexy, but not beautiful. However, a woman can be fat (fat by definition as fat and not obese to the point of a bloated face) but still be considered as pretty if not beautiful if she's got a face that's pleasing to the eyes. She might be fat but nonetheless, she's beautiful. What is it in a face?

Beauty is important. If it isn't, then why do we have songs about bewitched individuals serenading someone who's beauty stole their hearts? Why do we have songs having lines, "..If a face can launch a thousand ships.." hitting our charts? I'm not saying that "inner beauty" isn't important. It is but it just happens that I'm talking about the kind of beauty we get to probably rub elbows with when we walk in the streets. Unless you can walk up to a total stranger standing in a street corner and say earnestly, "You have a beautiful inner self." you better shut up.

What's in a face? If face isn't important, then we wouldn't be having expressions like, "Saving face" or "face of the company". If facial beauty isn't all that important, then why do all these make-up companies earn billions every year despite the fact that there are so much competition out there about similar products being endorsed in the market? Why do ladies take pain in applying intricately (the outcome, depending upon the person may result to a stunning advantage or a horrendous monstrosity) make-up layers upon layers, hues upon hues. Some even go to the extent of having surgical alterations. And it's not just the women. The men take pride about their facial appearances as well. In fact, they can be as vain as the women. If they're not, then surgical operations about receding hairlines wouldn't be popular.

I believe people are generally and naturally vain and superficial creatures. Of all the parts in our body, we take pride most in our head/face. When in danger, the instinctive reaction would be to cover our head/face.  We take pictures of our faces the most (given that there are people who take pictures of other various parts of their body). We identify people with their faces. We know how a person is through the reactions we can see in his/her face. Even when selecting our peers, we tend to look for those that's pleasing and are easy on the eyes. In a room full of strange faces, we always search for those that appeal to us most.  Almost every time, goodness is always paired with a beautiful face to go with.

Ever notice how in the movies, they always cast the heroine to be more beautiful than the villain? Ever thought about why the princesses in the fairy tales were always described to be of surpassing beauty? Sure, there have been movies where the lead star started out to be less than comely (Ugly Betty - enough said) but the theme's goal is still toward beauty or becoming beautiful. It's an artistic set-up of how an ugly duckling battles through discrimination and morphs into a beautiful swan that sets everyone to stagger aback and soak in the new astounding beauty.

We are all hopelessly addicted to beauty and there's nothing wrong with that. We are all in our own ways, narcissists. I dare you to break every mirror that you own if you beg to disagree. That's why in the advent of all these networking sites where we get to create our virtual images we call profiles, we post pictures of us that are nothing but flattering (though some may reason that some people post rather horrific pictures of themselves, this is because not all of us have the same opinion as to what real beauty is).

In our constant strive for perfection, it is a dismay to say that we have but misguided affections and twisted definitions of as to what beauty should be. (These days, beauty is in fashion. If it's in, then it's beautiful. But what about the different ones? Those brave individuals who could never conform to the fad just because the media dictates it should be? - that is however straying away from my intended topic so let's go back, shall we?) Far too often (and especially in women) we love to fuss about how we look and spend dismal amount of times contemplating why we don't/can't look like this or that. Then after years, when our face is all wrinkled and dried up, we stare at ourselves and think, "If only I was young again."

Too often we focus on how our faces look or how other people's faces look that we forget that there's more to people than meets the eye (although we should acknowledge the fact that there are, unfortunately, bimbos living among us all who were gifted with the looks but a rather gracious amount of space inside the head where possibly, a peanut resides). We all know that skin-deep beauty fades with time but an impeccable character is rather timeless but still, we all cannot help but channel our admiration towards what is pleasing to our eyes.

What is in a face?

Last time I checked, Mikey and Rich own me. I checked again and they still own me. I am currently broke so I can't afford to buy myself from them. Not to mention that those two buggers are filthy rich. *grins*

So, yeah. There's this guy I don't know who keeps on buying me. I imagine he's got a stack of moolah because he can afford to outbid both Rich and Mikey. He seems content with me owning him as well. He sent me a note saying "You can own me". He could easily buy himself from me if he wanted to.

I bought a couple of people and I'm still waiting for their friends to buy them off me so I may get some profit. I'm stuck with the "next" button (a technique Mikey told me) and with giving human gifts 3 times a day.

I can understand if this doesn't make sense to you. I'm talking about the game OWNED. Other than that, I'm hooked up with playing Dope Wars. Tee hee. Matt is stuck with 7 recruits.

Hah!

For something totally random but nonetheless amusing (at least for me):

I think I found it from one of the links in Dan's site. Frank scored 20. Hahaha. He thinks I'm mean for having a 29 score. My sister's was 30. What can I say? It runs in the family.

Do you ever get that feeling where things are momentarily okay but somehow, you have this sense of an impending doom?

You are not jittery but you aren't at ease either. You want to take long rich breaths of air but rather, you gulp semi-frantically and shallowly you end up drying the back or your throat and the roof of your mouth. You want to be still and relax but your nerves are a whack and you just couldn't stop wiggling in your seat. The mind's racing, jumping from one unfinished thought to another. You squint your eyes, eying for something unknown.

Ever felt that? I know what you're thinking. I am not on crack, damnit! I just have this feeling. I slouch and put a hand over my tummy and hold my breath (I'm not gunna fart so shut up!) and I feel this "crunch crunch" in my tummy.

Yeah, that.

It's sunny but I see gray skies ahead. My sister says they're blue.  Eh?!

When I'm outside in a public place being a random face in a sea of other faces, I often would love to fall back or sit in a corner where I can see the vastest view possible. I love to watch people. It's one of the things I developed while attending college. It somehow helps me get into that little hole in me and be completely at ease.

I love to look at the random faces, pick one that appeals to me most and study the person. I usually go for old people. They're more arresting than the younger ones. I'd look at the lines on the face and wonder about the story behind each crease.

The crow's feet guarding each eye, I wonder, were they a mark of endless laboring days under the trying sun? Or are they a proof that her life was filled with laughter and care? How about those lines around the shriveled mouth? Have they been etched with and by smiles or were they burdened frowns made ready for riverbeds of pain?

That whithered shaking hands, were they able to find the pair to perfectly match their clasp? Were they able to find the arms to hold them? Did she have children? How many babies did those arms nurtured? How many tears have been dried by those gnarled knob-like hands?

That thin line of lips, how did they look like in their prime? Full and enchanting, I imagine. Perhaps they puckered like a rose bud kissed by the rain or they shine radiantly when they smiled. How many lullabies have passed through those lips, easing away the nightmares that dare rob the peace of sleep of her loved ones? How many words of kindness and encouragement has sprung from them to sooth the broken hearts around her?

There must be a story behind that distant look. Is she missing someone? Did she find the love she was meant to have? Is she living alone? When it's cold and harsh, does she have someone to comfort her and keep her warm? How was she like when she was young? Was she an adorable sprite or was she shy and reserved?

I guess I'll never know for sure. I love to imagine that she was a great beauty. A rare gem with a lustrous heart. She's had adventures to last her a lifetime of comforting memories. She ran with the wind and she embraced life with her hear on her sleeves. She was happy.

Okay.

Here's the dish. I've been very very creative and eloquent with some fabricated persona. I'm not going to go into full detail about it as I'm paranoid like that but suffice it to say that my naughty mischievous side is completely reveling in the chase and the  mysteriousness of it all.

A friend and I (the one that got me into all this mess) are planning to create another havoc. A pair of mischievous god and goddess looking for some sexy fun. That should be it. See how superficial people really are. That should teach those dumb bastards to read well.

So that's my little confession.

Ah, indeedy. Idle minds are the playground of the devil.

I love it when we can talk in flowing conversations, when I get what you mean and you know the language of my ideas. When your concepts and impressions are intertwined with mine and talking to you is like whispering a familiar breath to myself. It's very comforting and in my own silly way, I feel secure and at ease.

It's when times like these that I feel that our hearts beat at the same time. It's times like these that I feel that even though we're at odds, we are not so different after all. It's times like these that I feel that we're not so far apart. It's times like these when I end up wide awake for hours after the world's quiet and at peace, and then I play the incident over and over again, seemingly afraid that sleep might rob me off these beautiful memories and come daylight, I wouldn't be able to recall a single precious detail.

How often can one find that someone who's steps perfectly matched her own in the dance of life? How often can one find that sublime pair of hands to impeccably fit your empty grasp?  All these make me  wanna sing  along to one of Cole Porter's magnificent  compositions.

Isn't it why birds do it, bees do it, even educated fleas do it. Let's do it, let's fall in love...

Several days of site unavailability, pure bliss, eh? It's been absolute fun. Oops! What was that? Oh, bummer. I think the sarcasm meter just broke.

I have been watching the movie French Kiss. Yes, "been watching" because it has been a continuous act. Over and over and over again. I will probably watch it again later tonight before going to bed. It is such a lovely movie. I love the innocence, the heart warming devotion and amorous humor. The setting is just divine and the soundtrack is bewitching. I have completely fallen in love with the two main characters. Kevin Kline is very charming and has a voice that could send a love-fool silly girl like me to utter blissful thrill. It's very intoxicating, really.

Inspired by the movie, I have started day dreaming yet, again.

Close your eyes and imagine this.

Imagine yourself in a quaint countryside in France, in one of those old vineyard that has been passed from one family generation to another. It doesn't have to be too big (the vineyard). In fact, you don't have to own it. You could just be living close to one. Probably, working as one of the hired help would be great. You spend cozy afternoons sitting on a reclined chair, watching the sun set, probably sipping a glass of sweet wine or reading a good book with a basket of fresh fruits beside you. You have the song La Mer (yes, the French version, with the voice of Kevin Kline) playing softly on the background, coating the air with its sweetness.Everyday is constantly sunny and warm, yet nothing too hot.

The reclining chair could be under a shady tree...with its coolness blanketing the area where its wide canopy of branches and leaves filter the sun. Everything is alive and well, pulsating with life. The dirt is rich and dark, but nothing too arid and dry that it creates dust. Just pleasantly thick and probably, still holding a faint memory of the dawn's mists.

There would be flowers everywhere. Nothing too commercially landscaped. Perhaps, a burst of random colors here and there. A patch of forget-me-nots and some fragile roses, along with an array of lovely sunflowers and a field of poppies, red and blue. A dirt road lined with old stones, alternating with button-like wild flowers and fat, thick moss.

Lovely, isn't it?

~*~*~*~

I know beyond a doubt,
My heart will lead me there soon
We'll meet, I know we'll meet
Beyond the shore
We'll kiss just as before
Happy we'll be, beyond the sea
And never again I'll go sailin'...