013. i promised i wouldn't blog about you

[oh, hi there.]

I promised to not blog about you
Or put your name or picture out on my blog.
So I wouldn't say who you are.

But we all know who you are.
Because there's only one of you.

...

the art is not mine

i found it...some time ago on pinterest i supposed.

but you, yes, you.

i like how mean you are.

i decided to write this in accordance with a question from a friend.

"mung ploi hai tua aeng chorb him kanard nun loey lor wa nia"

or translated as:

"do you really allow yourself to like him that much?"

the answer is of course,

yes.

i let myself fall,

as if i could control

whether or not the fall would happen.

they said the best kind is the one that you did not expect.

you have become my everything,

and once in a while

in the middle of the night,

i'd came up with some entry like this.

i have nothing but words

in no other language but English

but once in a while,

and this is not the first time,

it poured.

it was bittersweet

and afloating,

sometimes i feel like drowning

and that's why i love the sea metaphor surrounding you

there's nothing else that made me think of you

like the ocean

not the beach,

not the sand,

the ocean

the deep open water.

there are parts of you i can't stand

and i know most parts of me you couldn't as well,

but i like how we stick around,

bleeding.

i like how we're indifferent

but inseparable.

i like how we doesn't speak much,

but doesn't drift.

you did a hell lot of work

we did a hell lot of work.

i appreciate every moment of it.

it's toxic, probably.

but i don't mind.