: I'm Turning Red
A couple of days and the pretend-holiday of hearts will prove to be irrelevant, yet again. Of course, there is and will be that sense of dread hovering around, that fear of having a brief relapse or worse, a permanent remission.
No, no, no. Don’t get me wrong. It’s wong-kar-wai. I watched In the Mood for Love and 2046 in two consecutive nights, and I must admit, I still feel the veisalgia that inevitably goes with w.k.w.
My desire to whine hasn’t gotten the best of me, of my resolve. At least not yet.
Yes, there’s no such thing as being too sure about it. There hasn’t been any real encounter for me to assess whether I’ve truly moved on. The other day I was thinking of this uncanny ability (I watched Push the night before) that I’d wish to have. I haven’t decided what to call it yet. The idea is similar to a litmus test. I’d be like a Litmus paper, and the “superpower” is being able to tell whether I’m still in-love with he-who-should-only-be-mentioned-in-the-past-tense or not. This is how it goes: let’s say we’ll have this fateful encounter, and for some reason he’ll touch me, physically; if I turn blue, I’m still in love, but if I turn red, I’m so over it.
Anyway, I need not worry. I’d probably be too busy that day to notice the big red hearts glued/hanging all over. It’s just funny that there were too many invitations to have a single’s night out. I’m not sure if I should be happy with the fact that I could go out with so many single friends, or if I should feel miserable for not having any other option.
Well, well, well.
If anything happens, I’m looking forward… to turning red that day.
A couple of days and the pretend-holiday of hearts will prove to be irrelevant, yet again. Of course, there is and will be that sense of dread hovering around, that fear of having a brief relapse or worse, a permanent remission.
No, no, no. Don’t get me wrong. It’s wong-kar-wai. I watched In the Mood for Love and 2046 in two consecutive nights, and I must admit, I still feel the veisalgia that inevitably goes with w.k.w.
My desire to whine hasn’t gotten the best of me, of my resolve. At least not yet.
Yes, there’s no such thing as being too sure about it. There hasn’t been any real encounter for me to assess whether I’ve truly moved on. The other day I was thinking of this uncanny ability (I watched Push the night before) that I’d wish to have. I haven’t decided what to call it yet. The idea is similar to a litmus test. I’d be like a Litmus paper, and the “superpower” is being able to tell whether I’m still in-love with he-who-should-only-be-mentioned-in-the-p
Anyway, I need not worry. I’d probably be too busy that day to notice the big red hearts glued/hanging all over. It’s just funny that there were too many invitations to have a single’s night out. I’m not sure if I should be happy with the fact that I could go out with so many single friends, or if I should feel miserable for not having any other option.
Well, well, well.
If anything happens, I’m looking forward… to turning red that day.