the four right chords can make me cry

how to be an obtuse and obfuscating writer. a topic for which i am well qualified, for while at once able to communicate cogently and convincingly, i am also well acquainted with the fine art of expressing myself in such an oblique way so as to hint, suggest, and provoke the imagination, which in my opinion is by far the most potent means of bringing the narrative to life and also acts as a selective media, such that only those whom i intend to understand ever would.

at the time, i had assumed we would never meet each other again, and engaged on that premise; though, when the encounter was over, i found myself hoping otherwise. as such, today was a serendipitous turn of events, so much so that i dared not believe it, at first. i considered how to broach the subject, which admittedly, was a botched job. i regreted what i said as soon as i had said it, for it set the wrong tone for things to come. the ball was in my court, but i had failed for want of appropriateness. my usual self, stuck in not knowing how to react or read the situation and think on my feet, established the distance and hierachy between us, a mistake, for i had had a lead. hopefully, it was not a fatal mistake.

posted by beckyboo @ 10:32 PM