unspool and crystallize

the little random and spontaneous things

Month: October, 2013

Blur

I’m falling

Down the stairwell-

Into the spiral

Dizziness strikes

Sinking;

Seeping;

Swallowing

Me into the

b e f u d d l e m e n t

And I forget what I’m worth.

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Uphill

Our arms are touching and I can feel his body slightly lift up and down as he breathes to the evening breeze. The soft grass beneath us is caressing me with the softest touch, sending tickles down my neck. I smile. It’s not a forced smile at all. This is what happiness feels like – natural. He shifts his position, lifting his arms to the back of his head. He chuckles with a sense of his youth still present and it’s adorable.

 

“What is it with us and this hill? Why do we come back here and lie down when we’ve got nothing else to do with our lives? I mean, it’s just grass. We don’t know if it’s even the same grass we lie on tomorrow, or even the day after.” I say, watching  his fingers tracing circles on the ground. “And it’s just another pink sky above us…”

 

He thinks for a while, and I can’t help but notice how the evening sun plays with his eyes. They’re beautiful. They shade up into a lighter brown, and I can see the small brushstroke-like swoosh of his iris. They look almost too perfect, a radial photography. “Well, no matter what people say, it’s our hill. When I’m here, you’re here. When you’re here, I’m here. See? We’ve been lying here since God knows when.” It’s funny how he just blurts out his thoughts without even thinking twice. What are we, lovers? I turn to look at the sky, now a shade of purple. “ Isn’t calming to see it change colors? And the strange thing is, you don’t seem to notice even if you stare at it. ” 

 

This time, I turn to look at him only to meet his gaze and I can still see those tiny brushstrokes. They seem to be fighting against temptation to come out as if they’re on hiding. He rubs his hands against each other, and temptation strikes me so hard I badly want to reach out and hold his hand too. There’s silence for a while and it doesn’t feel awkward at all. “So, what are you pointing out?” Silence. “But then again, I don’t mind coming up here.” Silence again. He raises his left hand and checks on his watch. Five minutes to six.

 

As if on cue, we sit upright almost at the same time. He stands up and brushes the grass off his jeans, the wind sprinkling them on me. “Hey, stop that!” I look up just in time to see his smile.

 

“See ya,” he extends his arms and his big hand pats my head, tousling my hair and he smiles again. Always the same routine: he says bye first, pats my head, messes my hair up, and smiles. Then he walks away. Oh, how much I hate people ruining my hair. He knows that and finds fun in it. What he doesn’t know: whenever he does it, it’s an exception.

 

He takes big steps downhill and hops onto his bike. He paddles a bit and looks back at me, smiling again. “Don’t stay too long, it’s getting dark!” he says, struggling to keep his hair from covering his eyes. Even the soft evening breeze loves to touch him.

 

“I know,” I mouth, but I stay for a while anyway. I curl up and hug my knees. I can feel my heartbeat. It’s quite fast. It doesn’t make sense at all.

 

Then again not all emotions are fathomable, aren’t they?

 

Bench

there’s an empty bench

across the street;

I’m thinking if it’s for

us

to sit

de facto

Better stop dreaming, dear. Sometimes it hurts just as much as it does in reality.

Maybe They’ll Turn Into Something

All she wants right now is to hear his voice, to hear him speak. There’s something about the way he talks. His accent, perhaps? The way he enunciates every word – it’s just beautiful, too good to hear. Or perhaps it’s the way he talks so calmly, flashing a soft smile. At times she catches his eyes going off into a dreamy state, looking at a distant space.

In the mornings, she’d stand diagonally behind him. His head turns slightly to the left, throwing careful glances at her. She looks at him for a while and when her heart can’t take it any second longer, her eyes somehow automatically dart away. That’s when he catches himself off guard and pretends to find some other subject to look at. While he’s at it, he lifts his right hand to fix his unkempt hair, and she finds it cute.

When she meets him for the first time, he smiles and just simply stares at her. From that moment on, she figures his smile will be the sole reason for those palpitating beats in her chest. As she gets closer to him that smile she treasures so much vanishes.

She feels sad.

She soon realizes that a more effortless smile is what she gets as they talk. Everything seems to be so at ease now. She teases him, she nudges him, and call him nicknames. They laugh at the same time at the exact same moment. A progress, she thinks.

Maybe they’ll turn into something.

She’s hoping.

Instincts

I play this little game in my head.

I’m off to my next class. I enter the building, taking a right turn towards the buzzing hallway. It takes less than a minute for the next left turn. On the seventh second,I quickly pick which staircase to take. I worm myself through the crowd, finally taking a turn. I take the stairs that’s right in front of me. I look down thinking, ‘Why this way? Why not the one nearer to my room?’ I look up, and there you are, descending in the opposite direction with a half-smile on your face. As we pass each other, you let out a soft ‘Hi!’

I play this little game in my head. It’s called Instincts, and you know what? Today, I won.

clueless

it’s you

and me

and the crowd

of course, you don’t know

and neither do they

just me.

I walk a pace slower

with you ahead of me

and I stare at your back

and how tall you look from my view;

I smile

out of my foolishness

and at how love

can make you hurt

and laugh

with the shallowest things.