He never had the slightest hint that she hesitated when she turned her heels away from everything in between. He was clouded by her mixed signals, we couldn’t blame him. Little did he know, she started thinking about him the moment he offered her to listen to one of his favourite records. In a warm sunny afternoon when Vance Joy’s Wasted Time played on her iPod, her mind was non-stop with all the wishful thinking about him. She started doing things that cost huge adjustments for his benefit and his obliviousness killed her wonders. He easily gave up even before everything started and she’s in awe trying to figure out how she managed herself to be in that kind of place…

She is now inside the train trying to hold every rush of emotions back. Even though no one would even notice her if she’ll shed a tear since everyone is preoccupied with their mobile phones, gadgets and books. Nobody really watch what it is like outside anymore. So she waited until she’s home. She waited and watched. 

She never intended to listen to any kind of music as it’ll distract her but this little boy played the record he recently learned to love. It’s something that she has to return back. So she’s back on her heels again and went to their little reading nook. She sipped a cup of coffee and wiped the tear that stubbornly fell on cheeks. Her 7-year-old son sat beside her and said, Let’s go and read The Orange Girl again. 

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It was utterly the most bittersweet moment. The cue in for settling which is which or which is not. She was immensely longing for this moment, that moment wherein she had to choose. She poured her heart on giving this speech of a lifetime but she does not realise she was also pouring her soul, yieldy mirroring through her adlibs not found from her notes. She came prepared yet someone came for a surprise.

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Fiction : Other side.

She was stranded in a stormy weather. She still braved herself to attend the meeting even if it was suggested by her weather app that it will be raining cats and dogs for three days. She was halfway to her destination when she read the text from her client that the agenda was cancelled. Why cancel it twenty minutes before the scheduled time? she asked herself. Why set a meeting with this circumstances, though?

At her stop, she managed herself to land into an eerie coffee shop where no one but her and the barista were present. Josie thought the place is new because she has never seen it before but from the looks of it, everything in the cafe looks fragile and rusty. It is as if it won’t survive the three-day stormy weather. She dropped her yellow umbrella in the bin before going to the table near the window. She took out her laptop and iPhone from her mahogany satchel and brought them to life–ignoring the notifications for a while when the barista came to her.

I recommend our Cafe Misto if you’d like. He has piercings all over his ears, 12 if she might have estimated. Josie thought it was unusual to recommend a drink rather asking her what would she want to have. I’d have Black coffee, no sugar. Thank you.

The moment the barista went back to his bar and make the coffee she asked, she open the drafts on her laptop, essays on her new scripts for the new play on January. She was too drowned proof-reading the lines and dissecting the stanzas for relentless emotions ought to be delivered by her picked actors. It made her think, she is just on top of everything–just everything she wanted and dreamed of.

She took a glance at the window and couldn’t help herself notice a man. He seemed to be battling if he wanted to go inside the bookstore just across the coffee shop she’s in. After quite some moments, he just found himself more comfortable looking through the window of the rusted victorian window. He was supposed to open the door but he just settled with looking through the window instead. Don’t let this be your story. 

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At first glance he could be hers,
At first glance she should be his.
Tomorrows were endless,
To him, waiting was pointless.
Clock never stops,
Together their hearts hop.
Clock never agrees,
Of what their hearts could see.
Timing has its own unpredictable way,
As they breathe this away.


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I heard you say you needed me,
I heard you say you wanted me.
But now it’s written it’d all be bluff,
And it’s now written you & I will keep.

I heard you say you’d marry me
I heard you say you’d be for real.
Was it all true?
Or am I just cynical?

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We drank the emptiness of the frosty drink
The bartender never knew how awesome we are on this.
We stared at each others vision
Those windows we never dared tried opening.

But there it is,
Saw everything.
Our walls took years in building
Our white flags tumbled everything.

Now all I see is not the frosty drink
But the water in my vision.
After all, who am I to talk?
I’m just the girl at the bar without a frosty drink.

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She travelled away from everything
And she now found everything she’d wanted.
Like having those answers in her hands, (that)
She’d been asking from all those books she read.

Aside from the purpose she felt she knew
All she ever needed was herself.
A book collector she’d been dreaming.
A kitchen lord she’d been fantasizing.

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I pulled out my 4-year old iPod from my knapsack,
Scrolled in circular and pressed to play, Flowers In Your Hair by The Lumineers.

The smell of freshly baked pandesal joined the breeze.
Buying in some without a pang of hesitation.
For the smell is always included into use for our taste buds,
How heavenly it is when the room smells like butter.

Then I saw you with a newspaper in your hand with a bag of pandesal in the other.
You gestured yourself with the bag by your hand
I smiled and said, “No, thank you.”
I turned my back and walked out of the bakery,
Setting the volume of the iPod to max when I got inside my jeep.

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Messy Hair and Thirsty Hearts

The kind of girl with messy hair,
The one with a yellow pad and a pen.
She’s just wearing a big baseball jersey shirt
worn-out washed pants, rolled-up at the ends.

A coffee on her table,
Looking out the window through her glasses.
She seemed unnoticed,
Yet felt like she has been collected.

The next song made her smile,
Dancing in the lyrical harmony you, too, enjoyed.
Then she stopped with her dreams,
As the door opens, ringing wind chimes.

A little boy came up to her,
Hugging her like she’s one of his own.
A little boy kissed her cheek and said
“Mom, let’s have waffles.”

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The trouble is,we think we have enough time. Second chances are made for us who holds in the belief that it is ever too late.

I walked in the aisle, not knowing someone is walking, too, behind me.. Just like three steps away from me. I knelt down and sat at the far end wooden benches. I started praying. For all He knew, he knows what I am praying for. For I, never thought, what stood there in front of me knows everything that I’ve been longing.

This is how you walked. How you found. How you came.

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