Tuesday, March 19, 2013

at the time like this.

At the time like this, I wish I could call you and say, “Babe, can I go home to your place?”


A hard time at work, heavy traffic, bad hair, or even just unexplainable mood swings. You could mention thousands of excuses to go to the ice cream parlor and buy double—with extra topping, instead of just a plain single scoop. Maybe straight to the bar, ordering something strong and doubled it up. It’s all up to what suits you better. And you’ll go home with a guilt free ice cream satisfaction, or a tipsy smirk—again it’s all up to you. People in a bad mood are allowed to make bad decisions.

If only we could butter up all of our upsetting matters with ice cream and alcohol. In fact, some things are just too upsetting to be dealt with, even when you have a pint of tequila ice cream. Some matters need to be taken care of, talked to, and decided seriously. Things I am not really good at. I’m too impulsive and careless—plus lazy—for all of those. So, in that kind of situation, I always need other people. Not to say that it’s going to be okay and pad my shoulder, or further more, to give me some pointless self-help book kind advices.  But, more to strengthen my weird impulsive—and often stupid too—decisions. Because sometimes, I’ve already had the answer I need at the back of my head. I guess we all have. We just need someone we trust, to say, it’s the right thing to do.

Most importantly, to be the one to whom we can turn home and make things dramatically easier with their simple hug. Who is also willing to get my ice cream or/and alcohol when need.


At the time like this, I wish you could just open the door and say nothing. And I would just go straight in, crawling to your bed, and feel safe.


"When I finally get my own placeIt'll do its best to please meWhen I finally get my own placeIt will have windows that will leakA garden I won't weed, fish I won't feed
You don't need to be lonelyYou don't need to be lostYou don't need to know what you're living forYou just knock on my doorWhen I, when I
When I finally get my own placeI'll fly into a rage, I'll knock myself outAnd alter hours of whispering through the keyholeAnd I let myself back into your arms..."---Aqualung, on : When I Finally Get My Own Place.