my muse
written: 3:37 p.m. on Monday, Nov. 17, 2003

If you would care to remember this kid I kind of met at the basketball court where I play sometimes in June, this entry would probably be of interest to you. If not, skip it. I don't care either way.

(First mentioned him in this entry.)

He was my muse for the rubbish poem I wrote while taking a break from my stupid, senseless and ultimately, fucking painful semi-workout of sorts.

So yeah, you could say that I ran into him again. Not that I'm surprised. Also, I didn't say a word to him and vice versa. Not that I'm surprised either. I wanted to, a little bit anyway, but didn't. I was a little... afraid?

I guess my pride gets in the way of how I do things way too much. I don't know why but it seems really arduous to me, what others do effortlessly: taking the initiative to talk to someone, be it a stranger or someone one already knows. And the kid doesn't help matters much by being just kind of quiet.

Oh well. Good to know that he's still around, at least. Was wondering how he was doing.

I wonder if he fucked up his PSLE again.

I wonder, also, why I even care.

I have typed and deleted a few paragraphs over and over and I have came to the conclusion that I can't write right now, for whatever reason, due to a stupid headache that refuses to go away.

Therefore, suffice to say that it was nice seeing the kid again even though I didn't talk to him. Suffice to say, too, that this time 'round he didn't pressurize me as much as he did in June, and suffice to say, also, that he's a great basketballer. Beautiful form, great techniques.

Wonder if that would get him anywhere.

before sunrise // before sunset


Previously:
- - Tuesday, Aug. 29, 2017
I'm moving. - Sunday, Jul. 11, 2010
In all honesty - Tuesday, Jul. 06, 2010
What I want for my birthday... - Sunday, Jul. 04, 2010
On Roger's behalf. - Friday, Jul. 02, 2010