dent

I originally blogged this on DL earlier. But I think I could share it here as well. Wala lang. :)

Current feelings flowing.

chillin' at the backseat of my homie's ride with the top down in the
city of angels (ako na, ang gangster mode. chos!)
[April 2010 somewhere in Los Angeles, California]

DENT

It's rare that someone makes a dent in my being. And if she does, then I get scared. Because then, things follow the dent. Either I get derailed or I reroute. To repair or to sustain, ah, that is the question.

Sometimes it's hard to drive through this side road called like. Because it ultimately leads to the highway called love. I don't know if I'm ready to traverse this way again. Yet. Because I'm not sure if the past insurance covered me enough to recover from previous bumps. Parts of me are still in the repair shop. Some spare parts still need to be found and fixed. Still checking the gears inside and out. Alignment is the key, so torque needs to be continuously checked and adjusted. It's always hard for me to get sideswiped. I don't want to jump lanes anymore.

But I like this feeling of getting lost.

Hm.

Life is short. Drive.