Philosophical cow dung on the life of little Ms. Imperfectly Fine.

Tuesday, November 24, 2009

dead flowers

Despite the fact that the flowers you gave me died the moment the gardener cut their stems, I love them still. And now since I love you so much, I will have them mummified. Don't you love me more for that?

Monday, November 09, 2009

tin bucket

Darling, this love is like a tin bucket of water with pin-sized holes punched at the bottom. We can stand and watch its content slowly drains out to make a puddle or we could keep on filling it up to feed our little garden.

As long as you help me carry this load, happy is carrying us down this road.

Thursday, November 05, 2009


Once, in a relationship that I thought was going to last, I thought wrong.

Again, in this relationship that I think and I hope will stand the test of time, I wonder if I'm mistaking you for someone else.

Someone that understood and accepted me as all that I am, all this while. Someone who's willing to fight for me and by my side. Someone who's not afraid to lose me for his conviction tells him it will never happen. Someone I could love without hurting so much from every single frown of impatience and brush of rejection, for the remedy is in the quick act of saying sorry.

I'm sorry I thought that someone was you. And I'll repeat this mistake over and over again if I have to.