Primera sketch.

- initially uploaded for profile avatar purposes.

Ride

intervals between kisses

huge gaps of milliseconds

another deep breath

before I had the chance to look away.

the wind blows

hairs rippling, ocean waves

face blurred, distorted views

one little thing I enjoy about rides.

I enjoy the warm sun,

a slight patter of rain

the smog coated air

if sensations could last a lifetime

I'd rather feel this

than a heavy weight

somewhere in my heart.

Definition

Poems --

are when I could speak

where my emotions

run wild

with words i couldn't say

out loud.

Poems --

are the interpretations

of my smile

of my silence

my tears

and my stares of longing,

the unrequited love

often felt.

Poems --

is the world

I could exist.

where there were no barriers

and nothing who

would ever tell

anything

I already knew.

Things

Little ones.

Irrelevant.

Entanglements.

Soon would probably dis-

Appear.

Nobody knew.

Daniel-kun.

'Thank you'

Rusting about.

Understanding.

Trusting.

Hating.

Lies and truth,

The other way around.

Selfishness

I am Selfish
I didn't even know what was mine.
Once I tagged you
I'll forever hope you'll be "it"

When you'll slip out
of my fingers
out of reach.
My arm would find a way
to tap you back,
even if you don't return.
My severed hand
will forever haunt
that broad of a back.

Once I loved you,
even if you don't love me back.
Just allow me to bind you,
to cut off your wings,
and forever will your
tongue exist -
whispering seductively -
in my ear.

I am Selfish.
I know.
I hoped
that you are too.

About YOU

I try to string

pieces of a puzzle

to somehow create

one being - you.

This might've

been the poem

about you.

You, who I feel

somewhat near,

somewhat far,

somewhat somewhere

in between.

You, who I view

standing at the middle

of the pedestrian lane.

You are confusion

solidified with a soul.

Skid marks in circles,

a heavy dose of

combusted gasoline.

You who I view

with expressive eyes

and stares that could pierce.

And when we've talked

of things,

of likes and dislikes.

warm hands

and the ignition of

something else.

Somewhere in a distance

I heard,

engine running and

screeching tires.

Poem about HIM

When it started,

was when you came.

Casual jeans.

with no name for fame.

A little space

allotted none for you.

Yet in my universe

You were the only star.

Music was for my ears

infatuated with

six-strings freak.

Lost not your voice

even if the window cracks.

it sends shivers

down to my core.

Who are you,

whose pheromones

I can hate.

my thoughts flood of your

forgetful face.

like iron to steel,

my Introvert phase

like Magnet you pull

the tidal waves.

Silent Room.

It's dark

when I entered.

The first thing I noticed

was the warmth of your gaze

- something I hope I did not imagine.

I sat down,

the warmth penetrating my skin.

We were miles apart,

we never spoke,

it was an agreement

- something I wish

existed in real life.

I lie waiting

time speeds up fast

if I could bathe in your proximity

if I could smile at your departing back

if I could reach out to you

- even without your touch

I'd give up

the things I'm accustomed to have.

As I lie there waiting,

afraid that time would blow the whistle,

jolt me back into the word

where we don't co-exist.

You are my caffeine

A drowsy moment

Two cups of coffee

and a bar of chocolate.

That instance when

we've shared a hearty meal.

I snapped awake

turned my head

in sudden instinct.

You happened to pass by.

You are my caffeine.

You who I rarely see.

One look a day

fills a gap in my soul.

An outline

of your retreating pace.

You woke me from reality.

In this last draft

of unperceived poetic sense.

Caffeine is a drug,

pulling back into a dream

where the mere thought

of your look

could melt me into oblivion.

Untitled

I had a dream.

It started with this:

You were atop, pause

The mountain.

Which was me.

The end of dream.

When I woke up.

Everything tingled.

My mind - occasionally cluttered,

Was filled with thoughts of you.

I can't.

You were exactly the opposite of who I loved.

It was lies.

No apology.

I am not in love with fate itself,

It was actually love that seduced me.

Not that you knew any of it.

Do I lack the experience

the trip to the memory lane
was fast paced.
time constraint.
nerve wrecking.
and yet when every scene unfolds,
innocence pales in contrast.

do i act like that?
a pathetic excuse
for a godforsaken child
bloodless, with pallid skin
purplish lips,
pouring green slime
wherever there's dirt.

do i act like thee,
oh high and mighty one?
the one you used to love
the one you used to fuck
screaming the name
almost with a sigh
cooling netherland with
your immaturish feat.

do i live like that,
that childish soul?
anguished spirits
with graceful acts.
bashing the words
from the angels mouth
holy, uncouth
blushing at the sight
of your kissing lips.

do i lack the experience?
when you caught the sight
of my pinkish face
the fad i left
the crisis behind me.
lagging behind that wonderful flesh
inside my room naked, left undecide.

Backtrack: 16-Aug-10

(around 2pm)

I slept last night with no blanket and the elctric fan directed at me.

which would probably explain why i had a cold when i woke up or why i had been feeling sick since this morning.

i would have stayed at home and sleep but there would be an applicant's meeting this afternoon that i wouldn't dare miss.

As the talent's night/day was scheduled this thursday.

i mean, i had no complains whatsoever since i was the one who decided to be a part of this organization,

and the word 'quit' is an unacceptable one in my dictionary.

Still, the gravity of school is starting to get to me,

and the fact that i wasn't entirey feeling well these past few weeks kind of gives me the necessary hesitations enough to make me quit.

But no, i'm not going to quit.

not unless, my grades would take another dive.

and should i fail another major exam.

Which would probably manifest a few weeks from now - namely, my chemistry exam.

testing my limits was something i decided to do.

i'm a lover of chalenges.

and i love it when the work given to me gives me no time to play.

i love how pressure gives me higher focus and all those sleepless nights when i have to finish everything right before the deadline.

Yeah, you've read that RIGHT, i love all those things.

i just hated it when it starts taking it's toll on my body - getting sick, sleepiness, headaches and migraines.

Like, right now.

i love how i struggle over figuring out what to do.

but my love for it was eventually fluctuating as my body screams for rest or the fact that my head aches from thinking too much.

also, the fact that i'm mostly at home gives me so much trouble.

Don't get me wrong, i love my family.

But they are one major distraction.

Home is a place where most of my distractions came from.

I mean, my family is the reason why i do good.

but they are also the reason that keeps holding me back.

I will endlessly thank them for the time, the love, the support - which means a LOT to me.

I don't blame them for the expectations, for the pressure.

but these things that i had been doing was not based on my personal desire.

i did not dream of becoming a slave to science where my world is confined with the laws that science itself has set.

i do not wish to immerse myself in the complications that science brings.

i don't find the pleasure in computations, in thinking theoretical where my personal opinion and biases does not matter - where I don't matter.

Yeah, it was my decision.

No, it was not my passion.

My passion was something that was created when i wanted to escape this world.

And it was something that was realized when it was too late to back-out.

My passion lies in the arts.

I love suffering under the wings of darkness, when what i am suffering for is something i love.

the same reason and logic that was applied to falling in love.

Love is finding your happiness, living in it, until one day it wants you to pay up an suffer.

love is waiting, the pure torture of being tied up in front of the very thing you wanted most.

Love is like walking on the edge of a cliff, where you live with the temporary pleasure of living when all of a sudden, falls down into the ravine.

The worse (or perhaps its best) part of it was making it up to be alive, only to cry the story out in great depression.

The passion that lies within me is an obssession.

it was love in a way, but it is not in some way.

it was torture in a way, but it isn't in another.

My point, is somehow lost in the making.

perhaps this whole rambling was a contradiction.

perhaps i was just making up things.

perhaps this was a representation of what was inside my head.

'what i know', is really 'what i don't care knowing.'

'what i feel', is actually 'what i think i feel'

i mean, it all goes back to the prime question - the root of all the stupid questions that people think are not stupid but in reality they are.

"what is our purpose in being?"

----

The good thing about rambling is that it actually calms my mind.

puts me back in the right track when i wanted to give up and abandon all th things i'm doing.

(10:35pm)

(11:45pm)

i actually slept for abbout an hour, the reason why there was nothing written after 10:35pm.

i spent the past few hours staring into the page, that's why there was no output regarding my Chemistry RDR.

Seems to me that all i ever complain bout here was my chemistry subject - it's taking it's toll on me. BIG TIME.

but i can do all this.

i believe i can.

because if i don't believe in myself? who will?

I CAN DO THIS.

if they can do it, so can i.

I can do this. i can do this. i can do this. i can do this. i can do this. i can do this.

i can do this. i can do this. i can do this. i can do this. i can do this. i can do this.

i can do this. i can do this. i can do this. i can do this. i can do this. i can do this.

i can do this. i can do this. i can do this. i can do this. i can do this. i can do this.

Anyway, that's all i was going to write anyway.

Backtrack: 10-Aug-10

Sucks with the video.

I can't seem to write anything earlier, so i took a break - from anything else,

opened up a new browser and played the blue train by Asian Kung-fu Generation.

One of my favorite bands.

I find watching music videos a fascinating past time.

it's not like, we get attracted to the songs or what not.

Yes, i get attracted to the song, partly.

to the singer (much so, if they're uber goodlooking), the instruments the bands play with (much so, if i see the Gibson/Fender that i really really wanted),

the background, or the underlying theme that was being used.

I like gothic ones, bloody ones, dark and almost depressing.

More so, if the song's really one.

I'm not a fan of pop, of love songs or freaky ballads.

I don't hate the classics nor am i obsessed with it.

whenever i hear them, it'll only depends on my mood if i'll not skip them.

I take everything for granted.

Figures isn't?

maybe i'll wake up with my eyes gouged out, my limbs cut off or my hearing impaired.

but the scary thing is,

i can't say that i'm really bothered by that.

i couldn't care less that i'm going bald tomorrow or i'll get killed the next second.

Cause you'll never know what happens when everything you just thought about happened.

And i decided to live not wanting to know,

like, i wanted everything to just come in bunch of surprises.

Loving spoilers and being spoiled are two different things after all.

Notice how my writing seems to have less of a passion.

Maybe because, i'm just doing this to pass the time.

Not that my heart is already in it,

maybe i'll go at it later... when i feel like it.

(some time later)

And when I say, i feel like it, i meant I feel like it.

i just remembered that lady at a cafeteria in the university

(mind you, there are a LOT of cafeterias in the university)

I found out that she gave me an excess of 50 pesos in my change.

(I paid a hundred, i got a 120 change)

of course i didn't notice it until i was at the library sometime later.

i didn't return it.

even if my conscience's already nagging me, i didn't care.

i'm sick of being broke.

maybe bad karma'll strike back - the hell do i care.

I also reviewed a whole chapter on chemistry,

i still have... let's see... five more?

the exam's in 3 days. three freaking days.

and i still have to finish another RDR, a worksheet, then create another RDR.

i'm starting to get annoyed with my own incapability of doing things right.

So there, i'm vowing that i'll aim higher (higher than JUST PASS),,

like, i really need to quit slacking and work some more.

It's not like may parents are the ones who's going to suffer when i fail all my exams and fail my whole semester.

I AM.

Me, myself and I.

My vanity, my pride, MY EGO - a HUGE chunk of this stupid life.

trip to oblivion

speeding downhil

the business of fads and wads

spit into the nicely done cake

get sued for paying exact

whatever.

Backtrack: 09-Aug-10

Fuck you.

That was my opening statement.

If you guessed that i had a bad day, you'd guessed right.

half-right anyway.

one, i didn't wake up feeling bad, or grouchy, or what-not.

two, my day's proceeding greatly, thank you very much.

then came, the other half.

the other fucking half.

Thanks to basically, everything about my class tomorrow.

I'm failing, i don't need another punch in the face to figure that out.

I'm failing, i don't need to compute everything to arrive at that equation.

everything is so fucking obvious.

and the more i think of MY FRIEND,

the more insecure i get.

she's better at everything than i am.

maybe she's just more grade conscious than i am.

or maybe that's my big bruised ego talking.

Nope, it's my INSECURITIES talking.

i want to have many things.

i want to BE many things.

Heck, I WANT MANY THINGS.

That's my fucking problem.

instead of focusing my energies into IMPROVING one after the other,

i just have to aim for everthhing else, then screw them all - one after the fucking other.

So, why am writing all these?

you could probably say it's writer's block.

except that i'm not writing anything enjoyable. or sensible.

I don't find chemistry to be as appealing as poetry. or any literature.

Because, i stupidly realize that i wasn't born to be science geek.

Stupidly and blindly chasing after my father's disillusioned dream, just because of a current fad or obsession.

But what the hell, i'm already here might as well make the most out of it - WITHOUT BEING SARCASTIC

Fuck You

So here, i'm not actually done yet.

i need to get my juices running, before i can actually indulge in the actual creation of make-up lines that would surely sound realistic.

(And yet another - fuck you - you made me think of something stupid.)

The reason, i was actually BEHIND on my every schoolwork was because i chose to be.

i chose it to be left behind, left alone until there were only 5 hours before leaving for school.

Getting ready for it and sleeping already counted within that pathetically short 5 hours.

i'm busy taking those side trips, too long of a break, sleeping, imagining and writing pathetically fucking stories that, if they were to come true, signals the apocalypse.

Not kidding there.

So yeah, basically, EVERYTHING that has been happening was all because of my inability to prioritize,

my overconfidence in managing everything,

my cocky attitude that luck is on my side when in fact it's coincidence that mostly puts up with my whims.

I'm calming down.

Gotta get started on my pathetically stupid chemistry paper.

Backtrack: 08-Aug-10

The reason i got hooked up with final fantasy was because everybody else seemed to like it.

and i'm just this typical moron who loves to be on the trend.

But who am i kidding,

deep down inside me, no matter how much i try to demy it.

i'm stil that loser who's also called a weirdo.

i'm weird, i know.

i got hurt when my crush wrote 'weird' on my back sometime in high school.

You must be wondering why am i still upn at this crazy hour.

(not that uou knew that, you don;t see me anyhow. i can't sleep with reading those fanfics

and i don't see myself sleeping until there's a thin white light in the horion,

whoever invented the internet is such a great guy... sometimes.

i mean, think about it: he's great when we need escape, he's not when we face reality)

So here, i just finished washing the dishes, at 2am, BTW.

and my dad shut off the freaking telly, before that.

they got sucked into watching avatar, the last airbender

it was so fucking infuriating.

mainly because i'm a big zutara fan.

i just want the avatar to die on his mission so that katara and zuko can finally get together.

oh, and mei too.

i wish writing RDRs is THIS fun.

i mean, i love writing and all, but let's face it.

THAT's science, you don't need to write about it.

i love simple statistics, basic math operations, but i never liked writing boring science reports

WTH, even though i can't seem to agree or anything.

FUCK.

later. it's just getting really boring.

8 August '10

(The afternoon after)

So yeah, i'm still here. Woke up late. Ate late. Did my chores late.

The end product? I'm still here waiting in the starting point.

waiting for a miracle to happen.

The miracle? like, smething to take over my life right now.

A big wave or something, just to wash away these stupid thoughts, the stupid insecurities.

Oh, and this stupid life itself.

FUCK YOU.

i could tell, my dad's having problems.

the way he keeps on shutting himself to the world,

either sleeping or immersed in his stupid laptop doing everything weird.

like, NOT working and just watching those Shakira music videos or spanish rocks and music.

Whatever.

it's not like i care,

i would be very happy if they told me to stop and take another leave at school for the next semester.

ruin my life for all i care.

my tumblr page took too long to open up,

i think i forgot all i was going to post.

stupid fluctuating internet connection.

I also have to leave tomorrow.

i need to do my RDRs and doing them here is not exactly a good idea.

considering the fact that whatever schoolwork i do here, gets suck into a blackhole.

ANOTHER FUCK YOU.

My mom also went home today.

goodbye nights of sleeping late.

goodbye slacking off.

goodbye to you, responsibility that weighs down my head.

I'm free, thank you very much.

i can go out, come home late.

just NOT here.

Selective Breathing

Give out explanations

without

certain applications,

implications

and what nots.

Basically,

tell me how,

to breathe

with selected molecules.

It's not that,

I don't want to

inhale

purely oxygen.

What I want to avoid

was something

like

molecules from,

molecules with

Your initials impart

with subatomic

particles.

It's not that

I'm disgusted

with the thought,

just that

Your scent

overflows in the air

pheromones

giving thoughts

images

to the extreme.

Whilst here

I was trying to forget.

Give out explanations

implications

causes and effects

further reactions

where your actions

may mean

no harm,

You have no idea

how it's slowly killing me.

Chapter 5

Last one on my pc.

Probably take longer time to update.

I don't actually have time to write anymore.

Because of my job,

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He was on a date with his long time girlfriend when Itachi called.

He was always at awe with Uchiha Itachi. A little intimidated. A little irritated.

Partly because he is Uchiha Sasuke's bestfriend.

Motioning a 'wait-a-sec' gesture to Hinata, he answered the phone after swallowing an inexistent wad in his mouth.

"Did my brother tell you where he'll be today?"

Itachi was already asking before Naruto could think of an appropriate greeting.

"No, he didn't"

He was already sweating.

"Did he told you anything else."

Naruto was a bad liar, everyone who knew him knows that.

"H… He told me… he'll stay over for a week."

There was a long pause which Naruto was pretty much reluctant to break.

"Er…"

"I'll call your mother."

Was Itachi's abrupt reply and the line went dead.

Naruto, teary-eyed, ran to his girlfriend.

"Hina-chan!"

"As I thought, that Teme's brother is really scary. He was asking about Teme's behavior…"

Naruto was rambling on and on about Sasuke's weird family (his brother) when he realized something.

"Say, did they got into a fight or something. His brother sounded really tense."

Naruto was lost in thought for a moment.

"Whatever. I'll ask Teme later, there's something there that he wasn't telling me."

He faced Hinata only to find her staring intently at him. Her face growing pink.

They stared at each other. (Of course, Hinata was trying her best not to look away.)

"Hina-chan, are you feeling alright, your face is red."

He felt her forehead.

"You're kinda warm. I'll take you home. Can you walk?"

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Notes:

1. Naruto's POV
2. This chapter kinda suck. All the characters feel OOC.
3. Naruto is Sasuke's bestfriend.
4. Naruto's parents are alive.
5. Disclaimer. If I own Naruto, its ratings will dive below zero.

Chapter 4

Four.

Go ahead.

Kill me now.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sasuke was sitting on a waiting shed on the far side of the Uchiha side.

Their clan has its own side of the cemetery.

The cemetery was the last place Itachi would go to look for him.

He knew that 3 hours prior to the appointed time, his older brother would spend a minute fuming then the rest of the time finding him and finally murdering him.

The reason why Sasuke won't willingly go to the cemetery was because his parents died protecting him.

And because he never visited them even during anniversaries or special occasions.

Itachi knew that fact.

And the reason why.

And so after three hours of passing the time, somebody did approached his hiding place and it wasn't his brother. It was a girl.

She knelt down in front of the grave, arms in silent prayer, eyes closed.

She had a long pink hair and was endowed in a white dress with flowery patterns.

The wind was blowing. Pink petals of a Cherry blossom tree flows in the air.

Sasuke stared at her. Mesmerized.

He thought she looked familiar but he was unsure.

She was kneeling in for a long time that Sasuke wondered how could she stay kneeled for that long until her hands, originally palms together in a prayer, swayed down heavy. She fell asleep.

Cautiously, Sasuke approached her.

She really looked familiar.

A rumble suddenly pronounced an upcoming rain.

He was startled at the prospect of her waking up and finding him there.

But she didn't even stir. Drops of rain were starting to fall down quietly.

She didn't move even as he touched her now-cool slightly wet skin.

Her dress damp at the light patter of rain.

Nor as he carried her to the nearest shade and lay her down using his own lap as her pillow.

He placed the jacket he was wearing over her.

She's one heavy sleeper, that's for sure.

He thought it'll be a good idea to tell her off when she wakes up about her sleeping habits.

He watched her.

Until the rise and fall of her chest lulled him to sleep.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Notes:

1. Uchiha Sasuke's POV.
2. It wasn't Itachi who killed their parents but Sasuke?!?
3. Sakura's waaay too oblivious to her surroundings and a potential victim if she keeps up her bad habit.
4. I don't know if Sasuke fell in love at first sight or that he was curious with all Sakura's weird habit.
5. Disclaimer. The characters aren't mine. I told you it's OOC.

Chapter 3

The difference are just minutes.

Because I already freaking typed this.

waaaay too long ago.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Haruno Sakura had been stood up.

And for the first time, she felt happy about it.

It was a blind date hat her guardian set up for her.

Who'd want a date with someone set up by your own guardian?

Who knows how they'd look like anyway.

And so, after three hours of waiting, she was grinning broadly walking away from the café where she's supposed to meet her date.

She was so happy and lost in thought that she didn't notice a certain red-eyed dude until she bumped into him.

"Oh, sorry."

The dude didn't even glanced at her.

He was fuming. His phone already crushed in his hands.

Better hurry up, it seems dangerous here. Sakura thought.

But what shall she do today?

Her always full schedule has been freed suddenly because of this date that didn't happen.

Maybe she'll hangout with her girlfriends today.

She hadn't seen them in ages.

She sat down on an empty bench smiling. Began typing on her keypad, texting them.

Their replies came sooner than expected. Her happiness was short-lived.

They're all busy. With their dates.

Except for one who, Sakura was told by their other friend, to be out of town meditating.

Who knows what happened that made Ino act like a… well, like that.

Let's see. She thought. Tenten's with Neji-kun. Temari's with Shikamaru-san, Hinata's with Naruto.

She was ticking off people with her fingers.

Then she blushed before sighing.

There's no way that she could ask that person out for a drink, let alone a date.

She'd probably visit her parents.

It's been a while since she last visited them anyway.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Notes:

1. Haruno Sakura's POV.
2. Sakura has no parents. She was being taken care of a guardian.
3. Sakura's a star student. She has various duties and belonged to various clubs.
4. Hints on pairings were somehow disclosed.
5. Disclaimer. If I own Naruto, I'll make it all about Sakura and Sasuke's love story.

Chapter 2

'nuff said.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sasuke watched numbly at the closed door.

Marriage.

Him.

Getting married.

And worse, an arranged marriage to a perfect stranger.

The fucking paper didn't even say who it was.

All it ever mentioned is that she's the same age as his and a senior at Konoha High.

It could be anyone.

Anyone.

The thought made him shudder.

What if she' one of those stupid fangirls wooing him?

What if it’s the red haired freak? He shuddered.

Suddenly, he felt the need to get out. To run away.

To hell with Itachi, he won't come back.

He's already saved enough money.

That's right, he's sick of his name anyway.

Sick of this stupid world and going to school with all those stupid fangirls.

As his resolve strengthen, an image of his brother's red eyes loomed over him.

Fear washed over him.

He'll surely kill me.

He shrugged it off.

To hell with Itachi, he repeated, this is my life.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Notes:

1. Uchiha Sasuke's POV.
2. The red haired freak is actually Karin
3. Sasuke's roughly between 17 and 18. I'm using Japan's school system instead of my own country's since a senior in our country is basically 16 years old - too young.
4. Disclaimer. I don't own Naruto. Ask Kishimoto Masashi-sensei.

Chapter 1

Posted here for the hell of it.

No.

I just forgot my fanfiction login.

Stupid, yeah?

Anyway, feel free to read. comment. whatever.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"An arranged marriage?" his little brother sounded unsure as to what he heard him say.

The older man merely grunted in response.

It was no surprise that his younger brother would surely reject this idea.

His younger brother continued to glare at him to an increasing intent that he felt it was best if he give him a reply.

"Don't you like the idea?" he replied coolly.

"Damn right I didn't, what gives you the right to decide for my future?"

He sighed.

Teenagers sure are rebellious.

He slipped him an official looking paper.

"The Hokage" - pertaining to Konoha village's ruler - "wanted it."

His brother read the page unblinkingly.

"What the hell. It doesn't say that I have to marry."

"Of course it's you. Didn't you read the specs? You're on the same age. It would seem pedophilic if I'm the one who marries her."

"I. won't. marry. Anyone."

Itachi stood up in front of his brother, red eyes looking down upon the identical defiant eyes.

"Remember your duty to your clan, Uchiha Sasuke."

He felt him cower underneath his gaze.

"Tsk."

His brother finally said after looking away.

The chime of a grandfather's clock sounded somewhere.

Itachi turned to leave.

"Sasuke. Meet her tomorrow."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Notes:

• Uchiha Itachi's POV.
• I made the Uchiha a red eye clan since this was an alternate universe set on modern times and their sharingan was a distinguishing factor in the anime/manga.
• The usual drama that Itachi and Sasuke were orphans were there. But Itachi didn't kill their parents and was actually Sasuke's legal guardian.
• Tsunade is the Hokage.
• Disclaimer. I own nothing but the plot.

Mayfly

whenever morning comes,

rejoice.

Life welcomes,

rebirth.

the start of everything else

probably something

along the line

-- you and I met.

whenever midday comes,

emergence occurs.

the time we were at peak,

midst of our lives.

The time when,

we found ourselves, perhaps

Fall in love.

Fall out of love.

Fall in love

out of luck, mixtures in a flask.

in the evening,

the red sunset

was like a traffic light.

Stop.

it's not that

there'll ever be a green light.

-- for me

-- for you

-- for something like "never" us.

Life is short-lived

the usual buzz

the usual cycle.

in the end, by the end of the day

we die.

Poems are Letters

What better things to write

than the classic way to start.

"Dear -"

What comes after would be a waste of time.

What comes before,

was a jumbled mess.

I tried so hard to compose

somewhat like a song.

The melody of your voice

singing at the top of your lungs

- tunelessly, faint.

but your voice nevertheless.

whereas indistinct,

YOURS, nevertheless.

You,

the last part, I'd rather leave blank

since you've uncovered

an indeterminate me.

Decisions are something that goes beyond

out of reach.

but what you ask you say

I answer not out of obligation,

rather, it was after all somewhat nice

somewhat special, perhaps.

I'm nearing the concusion,

a bit ore with words in circles.

For mere compliments you breathe

in my ears.

Touch, while a blush creeps like a vine

for that warmth of your hands

that lingers for some time.

the things somewhat sparks,

something that blooms inside my --.

Journal post.

Let me spill the contents of my heart.

The first time I encountered you.

would be the first time I saw you.

My first impression was: "This guy is awfully quiet."

You actually didn't matter.

You were the same as everybody else.

You were nobody.

I was foolish to think that way.

It was that time,

that you were the second person who gave me something to think about.

Maybe I reminded you of who you used to be.

Maybe I perked your interest.

Maybe you pitied me, who don't say much.

Whatever the reason.

You talked to me first.

The second encounter was when the joke began.

You started holding my hands.

This was round about the first time, I felt that.

Flirting.

This is how being flirted feels like.

My virgin mind went haywire.

I started to feel consciousness.

I realized things such as femininity.

Relationships.

Connections.

Infatuations.

Uncertainties.

Most of all,

Me.

I never got to know myself, more than I do now.

You caused quite a stir, that you've made me changed this much.

From then on.

Things became haywired.

Everytime you look,

in my mind's eye, all I could perceive was your eyes.

I struggle.

I want to talk to you.

I wanted to reach you.

I wanted to be myself when I'm with you.

But wanting and doing are two different things.

I couldn't talk to you.

I couldn't think.

I ignore you most of the time.

I can't look at you in the face, thinking about how I would look.

It was like, a force field that surrounds you.

There is a barrier between us.

We are different.

Completely.

Aside from that attraction on my side.

nothing more.

I started to acquire the interest that you have.

I wanted to look into things in your perspective.

I wanted everyday to see you.

I wanted to sit with you.

I wanted to talk to you. Break the ice.

It's becoming hard to just be in your presence.

I don't want you to think that I am boring.

I don't want you to leave because I didn't do anything.

You are my caffeine.

I hope you could understand that.

I wrote you that poem.

I thought of you, more than anyone else when I wrote it.

Even so,

after what everyone keeps telling me.

"Don't expect."

I reply that I don't.

I keep telling myself that I wasn't.

That I was hoping.

It was all lies.

I love you.

I wonder how many times I wrote that with a person in mind.

I like this person romantically. He's the one.

I hope you're different.

I hope you'll be the one to break this unhealthy habit.

It's eating me.

Teaching me that humanity is supposed to impose upon me the knowledge that we were meant to fall in love infinitely many times without that person loving you back.

Because frankly speaking, I'm getting tired of having people pass by without giving me a second glance.

I want to live with the assurance that there was someone out there waiting for me.

<20Aug2011>