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Friday, June 18, 2010

memories

they come back,
short and subtle,
like a summer breeze
and then they haunt you,
from a place so far away, that it doesn't even exist,
at least no longer,
dead within the ticking seconds of time,
and yet,
how many times does one have to kill what's dead,
to stop it from sporadically coming to life.

maybe somewhere beneath my 173 blog entries,
there's one exactly like this,
because that's the thing about memories,
it brings you back to one moment,
at any time.
memories are seclusively universal.

hello
hi
we shook hands and i smiled, not letting you or anyone know that from the moment i saw you, i knew that something would happen between us
wait up
i was walking in heels and everyone else were at least twenty steps ahead of me
except for you
you were walking right beside me
that's you in ten years, i said pointing to the guy on the stage.
the guy on the stage, kissed his leading lady.
that's you, very soon, you said pointing at the girl
hi
i frowned, what are you doing out so late?
you shuffled your shoes, i just wanted to say goodbye just in case i don't wake up tomorrow morning.
i smiled, okay goodbye
i miss you claudia
i'm going to do my homework first
okay, take your time
hi
done so fast
i can't finish it directly, kept on thinking of you
see you this saturday,

what if saturday never comes?

and here's to forgetting, to moving on, to those beautiful summer mornings,
and amazing summer nights.
here's to our guiltless twisted lies,
here's to getting hurt,
the bone piercing silence,
and pretending like we didn't know each other, when we met out of the blue.
here's to the guy who broke my heart the hardest,
but paradoxically,
made it better and much more beautiful.

and finally,
here's to every memory we shared during that
one perfect summer

i love you most ardently, 12:01 AM.

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claudia natasia
i like to make myself believe that planet earth turns slowly
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▪ paris
▪ canon digital slr ▪ five hundred kinder joys ▪ iced peach tea ▪ neon pink earrings ▪ NEW YORK CITY ▪ super huge shopping spree ▪ sparkly louboutins ▪ trip to bali with my girlies ▪ pink tory burch flats ▪ laduree macaroons ▪ a heart of gold
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"and being a girl could be about interest rates and skinny jeans, riding bikes and wearing pink. not about any one thing, but everything" - along for the ride, sarah dessen