the Translation of Love

i am sad. no one wants to buy the 'charity trip' t-shirt. :(
il blog for a while cos im procrastinating the fear of writing the [daunting] 6-pg Lit essay due on thurs. scaredy-cat.

***

There is a certain lull that resonate in the hearts of solitary wanderers. With every rise and ebb of the sea waves, the imminent crash of the water hitting the shores of East Coast mirror the state of their own hearts - hearts that crash along together with the waves.

In, out. In, out. In, out.

Couples tracing names of the other across the sand, in an attempt to immortalize their love affair - only for it to be washed away the very next day. The irony of it all does not undeter such foolish acts, for what is Love but the exclusion of Logic, they reason.

The Heart has its reasons which Reason knows nothing of, they claim.

The beach as the playground for Love, and the two in love claim it as their own. Our beach, they acknowledge, their smiles indicating a mutuality of agreement. The solitary wanderer finds it hard to understand. She is puzzled, and in her bewilderment realizes that she has not made any memories on the beach. Unlike them, there was never a 'we' claim to the beach - no shared activities, no moonlight sonatas, nor dewy-breathed mornings holding the hands of the other. In her mind, that place has always been hers alone.

***

Bite-sized Morsels of 'Desperate Housewives'

The stories that are the most interesting ones are the ones that you never tell

***

But the most troubling of all are the ones standing outside looking in;
the ones who we truly never get to know.