Pot of gold

The 3-bedroom apartment is bare. It is very decent in architecture. For its modern features, the kitchen nook is my favorite part. The first time I entered this soon-to-be abode, I smiled; I shut my eyes for a few seconds, and there it was: HOME.

Like a newborn baby skin's scent, the air that surrounds my present life is innocent, yet fragrant. As muddled as circumstances may appear to be, my resolve to take the new sequence of life’s continuity is well thought-out. Colors may be amiss, but the rainbow that hides beneath the fogs of hope will point me to the pot of gold. I shall reach the end of the hidden rainbow. The treasure will be waiting for me to keep, and make use of. It is my reward for my affirmative attitude, and for the once struggled frays with my own self. I now find myself almost reaching the pinnacle of liberty to free my own trapped spirits from what used to be an unending loop of shoddy endeavors.

I am a rock. I am an island.
- Simon & Garfunkel

Lost at the sea of thoughts

This sea breeze refreshes me as it fans out all the impurities of my semblance. He is the blue ocean of my dreams. I sail with him in endless waters without charts; for we cannot outline our journeys to our world's endless horizons...

He was gone for exactly a week. I couldn't believe the effect this had on me. Talk about missing a friend... this almost confirms I am so lost without him. Strangely enough, we do not even belong to each other to miss the physical presence of one another. He is my partner in crime, my confidant, my priest and confessor all-in-one. He is the big guy I can allow myself to fall because he would without a doubt catch me. With no reservation I can commit my sadness and tears and not be taken as vulnerable and pitiful. He is my awesome friend, the guy whose aura can beat the most beautiful of sunny days in Alaska. He is the only person who has ever called me from sea where I allowed my thoughts to wander; and wonder I did about the smile on his face as he pressed the mobile phone against his ear and cheek. Was the boat moving in rapid waves of the deep or shallow waters? Did he feel the salted scent of the seawind on his face and bare arms while standing on the vessel's bow? And was he smiling, his eyes twinkling in gaiety while listening to my jovial banter?

Yes, I believe he was all of the above, for certainly I know what he made me feel. And enduringly what he does to me is...

he makes me smile.