Norah Jones sings:
It's not the pale moon that excites me
That thrills and delights me
It's just the nearness of you
The sudden entry of Rey reminds me of things I shouldn't bother myself to the extent of writing this.
Rey still confuses me. From that time when we were still in elementary and he came with his curly hair, to the time I see him now in his white shirt and his numbers in my phonebook.
There is really only one of all those boys who made me feel good with his hands on my waist, or simply, the nearness of him.
It's been what, 6 years?
Well, if you include the time he was born, a year before me, that would basically, technically makes us 21 years in acquaintance.
Or maybe it's just the Lovapalooza air hanging dangerously above everybody else's heads.
Maybe I should burn or bury his shirt -- I love baseball.
It's printed there in gray background.
I love his memory.
I love his smile.
I love his voice.
Lovapalooza is dangerous. Close-up should quit that. I hope it rains on Valentine's day.