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Showing posts from September, 2012

Don't you think?

The toughest, coldest, least-likely-to-care-about-it person deep inside wants a partner to love. Someone to show interest in him, shower him with attention, spend energy and time to understand him, and to have sex with.

Book sale break

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Despite the interesting titles and low prices, I refrained from buying any. First, there's little space left at home; second, I haven't really been taking good care of the ones in my possession.

Soon I'll provide my self and my books (present and future) a home.

Beats of an adult song

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September is my favorite month.

1. I was published in a national magazine for the first time. Most would cringe at the sight of their early works, but not me. I reckon I did a pretty good job back then.

A part of the poem went:
Meanwhile I hear the catalpa pulsating
in beats of an adult song:
fingers that faltered
before stroking my belly
unfetter the butterflies into the air—
spiraling in space, spelling
the valediction of a gay season. Look at that little voice talking about the grand loneliness of adulthood.

2. A lot of the people I love were born: friends and those whom I admire; and if I were lucky, those whom I admire and became my friends.

3. The beginning of the best quarter. The countdown to Christmas starts and in between are exciting holidays like Oktoberfest and Halloween.

The end of the year is always more hopeful. There is relief in leaving unpleasant things behind. —This is not exactly true; things stay with you for as long as you live, or at least have a healt…