In Continuum.

Hello,Stranger

Hello,stranger.
I saw you on the bus today,remember?
You were on the third seat from the back
And you were in a dress of amber

Hello,stranger.
I saw you only through your reflection
Because i knew only then will you not
Stare back at me with sore rejection

Hello,stranger.
I dreamt of you last night in my future
But you were never part of my lonely past
Just here and now,the moment i shall yearn

Hello,stranger.
I saw in myself this growing anger
This frustration over my ever longing passion
For someone like you,beautiful and mysterious strangers

Isnt it kinda strange,how we sometimes act against sense,against our rational abilities in real life and believe that the act of stupidity will be overcame by your blunt reasonings?

You read about it in romantic novels,the ones by Nicolas Sparks perhaps.They always give you this hope,this dream,this romanticized reality that things are going to happen,the way they do in books.You hope that they will happen,the way you read it on your bed the night before on your comfortable bed,but sadly to your dismay they dont usually turn out the way they do.That is evil,in giving us hope.To give false hopes,to me,is the ultimate evil that one can deliver to anybody else.

We've all heard of the phrase "Love at first sight".But like Ashton Kutcher said once,"I do not believe in love at first sight,for the blind falls in love just as well".Yes,true if you think about it.I mean,technically speaking love at first sight doesnt necessary mean you HAVE to have seen that person,but i guess in a way Ashton Kutcher was trying to imply the importance of things other than just physical looks.With that firmly in mind,in my mind anyway,it is hard to follow that as a sort of law,a rule when you see somebody attractive on a bus,on a train,or anywhere on the street for that matter.

With that said,it's not like i saw somebody attractive on the trip back home upon bus 136 this evening.It was raining then,and the sight of SRJC brought back painful and fond memories of the past.The poem above,which i desperately typed on my handphone in case i forget,was in fact not out of any real experience,strictly speaking.I actually wrote that poem based on this ugly looking GUY sitting at the back of the bus,strangely enough.I havent turned Brokeback,if you were wondering back then.Just,the way inspiration strikes,can strike you as abnormal and strange at times,really.

But everybody has that kind of experiences,right?On buses,trains,without anything interesting at hand to do you look at the people around you.Some might find that terribly mundane,but i find the act of looking at people,observing them quite an experience.Sometimes,at times,you see people that are just...stunning.I remember this caucasian girl that boarded the MRT once while i was heading to town.She had long hair,neatly tied up in braids that rested on her back.She was in a black top,right around her body like those dancers wear but not nearly as tight.She had a pair of jeans on,and a bag in her shoulder which really looked more like a rice sag.She was anxious then,to meet somebody i assume.She kept her eyes on her watch,and was anxious to get off the train when it arrived at the station.

I remember looking at her through the slight reflection through the windows on the doors.I didnt dare to look,for i was afraid that she might look back and catch me staring.I was afraid,but at the same time i couldnt help myself from looking at her.Something about her struck me as pure innocent,a sort of innocence in beauty.Like the very foundation of it,was inside of her.I felt like Joel from Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind,equally pathetic."Why do i fall in love with every woman that pays me the slightest attention?" he said,as Clementine greets him at a cafe for the first time.I felt pathetic,but willingly so as i felt the stupidity growing inside of me.

She was,i remember,like black fire.Dark,mysterious and glowing bright at the same time.She was just,an individual in the crowd.Somebody who literally brushed past me one fine day in the middle of a dark tunnel.But she touched me,both figuratively and literally,in a strange sort of way i cannot explain.The love for strangers,the way this natural ability is in us,within us since the very beginning,the double-edged sword.How wonderous,it must be to realise it?