And when we meet
Which I'm sure we will
All that was there
Will be there still
I'll let it pass
And hold my tongue
And you will think
That I've moved on....

My 2 cents.

A 15 minute conversation over breakkie with a stranger who, unfortunately, holds a huge personal disdain for me and my breed, felt somewhat nostalgic. And if I dare say, amusing. It was like playing golf underwater. With one hysterical clown who drinks on the job. Ok wait. How was this nostalgic? Oh yeah. Bipedal primates fighting for survival. Except in this case, the fight was uncontested cause we were too busy waiting for damn River Island to slash their price tags to actual one digit prices. And more importantly, the main star of the day was sane (and possesses the patience of Ghandi) enough to favour donuts over bitter ex gf and did every1 the favour by cutting the line short.

Again the question, why fight over a dick when you can have the remote control to yourself?

Over futile odds

Tho' I battled blind,
Love is a fate resigned
Memories mar my mind,
Love it is a fate resigned

-Love is a losing game, Amy Winehouse-

At the top of my head I could’ve easily told you how many days make up 4 years. Hell, I even know how many hours there were. But ask me, “How many times have I thought about u in that damn 4 years?”

I wouldn’t know where to start.

Steady hands just take the wheel.

Granted being friends ain’t easy. But I suppose having an intense history together and witnessing several milestones warrants me, at the very least, an acknowledgement for my efforts.

Then the age-old question: Who am I to ask?

You would rather a lobotomy than this.

Sleep Through The Static

“If I had eyes in the back of my head, I would’ve told you that you looked good as I walked away.”

-Jack Johnson, If I had eyes-