Ciggy Ciggy!

conversation is therapy. and opposite of that feel-good benefit of blah-blah is closure slash disclosure. last weekend i had a salad of that, topped with an asian sweet and sour tears and saliva. let me drool all over it again.

why do we sometimes zip our lips to the people we care the most? is avoiding a talk-point that would possibly hurt them a valid reason to keep things to ourselves? but then here's a splash for me (and you?) - all hidden things, in time, will reveal itself. and a disclosure of that kept secret is a conversation in a form of a 350 pound blind masseuse who knows nothing of therapy and by the time his pinky finger lands on your skin, the orchestra of muscle pains is bowed on your body. i can still feel my insides ache as last friday's episode creep back to my mind. she was crying for hours as me the olaf okuninushi of omission sang unsung songs. my heart was crushed. when all the time i want her to be alright. when all the time, i wouldn’t want her to feel uncomfy. when all the time, i dont want her have difficulty in whatsoever. to carry all the burdens literally and metaphorically. yep, and keep things to myself. there goes the conversation of, as she qouted, "hurling blocks of ice on fire". that's why maybe i zipped my lips to some topics that i thought would might disturb her. it ain’t good. right? conversation is therapy.

the weekend that was has left me hollow inside even though i was with her minute by minute. man, all we do is magic and magic and magic. let me get back to that scene. untap, upkeep, play land, cast, attack, take, done? i was giddy when the thought of playing the whole weekend lit up like a good idea but the fiasco is not as what i expected it to be. i would've wanted to talk to her more and more and more. i like it that way. i mean, repeating the words. like, i like this and this and this. but anyways, getting back to talking to her. i want to know more of her, talk of whatnots and what matters. to launch myself to the vast galaxy of her thinking and await comet thoughts. i know she is more than what is visible to the eye. that's one of the reasons why i am with her. you can hurl her anywhere and she'll give you a crash. and we didn’t talk about that. The whole weekend. magic is absolutely entertaining but its a bore compared to talking to her. again, conversation is therapy.

i bought her dwarf hamsters. it's funny that you can watch them tumble, rumble and fumble and you wouldn’t know 20 minutes have passed. how can animals live without the therapy of conversation? the puny creatures that don’t have to talk in order to communicate. hmmmm.. what is the highest level of communication? if conversation is therapy, what is more than that? if therapy is something that makes you feel good, what is it that makes you feel best? i can somehow tell by watching the hamsters... while feeling her just beside me, holding her hand, kissing her from time to time, just being with that someone by whom you can be quiet with. talk is therapy but by the virtue of sleep as the bestest therapy, quiet times are gold...while havin' a lot of lovin'. where was I? conversation is therapy?

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