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Others want it hard, others semi-hard. A few have it poached from them. The rest wants the freakin’ cacophony of an omelette. As for me, I want it sunny side up – life, that is.

Monday, October 11, 2010


I’m listening to the rhythm of the rain that has just started to pour. It commences with a gentle drizzle and ascends to a generous downpour, making a monotonous cycle of sounds as the rain drops collide and splatter onto the rooftops. Aside from this, pretty much everything is still.

The formerly lit sky is now engulfed in eternal darkness. It was not too long ago when the full moon exhibited itself upon its audience – the stars.

They were on a constant display of affection. A steady stream of burning red, patches of blazing orange, strings of scorching yellow, and blotches of brilliant blue stretched as far as the eye can see. Intense passion flared upon the midnight sky for everyone to behold. Too intense that their light could fill every crevice in the heavens above. Too intense that they could replace the sun. Too intense, indeed, that it hurts.

And as the night neared its climax, every color in the sky swirled into one giant white mass, blinding anyone who dared to open his eyes. And then suddenly, without consent, a loud explosion was heard in the night sky. After that, everything went blank. Black. Uncertain.

The colors faded.

I’m still lying here motionlessly on top on the sheets, pain, guilt, and remorse washing over me. These sheets still hold the pieces of evidence. Your sweat, come, scents mixed with mine. Your last concrete memory.

Like how pathetic could I ever get by clinging to these sheets like a prized possession? But I don’t know. Maybe these are the last things I own that could ever have a part of you in them.

Yes. Hopefully, after washing these sheets, you’re off my heart.

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