Subliminal

And so it seems...like what they said in Sex and the City, Carrie got over her trauma of getting out of love simply by laughing at Charlotte pooing in her own pants.....It was barely 10 ticks of the trickling buckets from the last entry, and i felt as though i had trudged up across some ridges of love, steered a fairly wide course around many snow cornices of a love land to cross path with another human of stunningly similarity. Only that this time "it" is prettier. And like just a wand of the magic, my hooked up feeling dissolves in the air masses. It is so subliminal that my love is attested and failed terribly. Am i to rejoice or to be sad for being so shallow? I used to think love and not love are never antagonistic elements which can coexist. But maybe i should ponder to check if i have been unduly cynical to suggest that love and not love is a thick line to cross, and crossing is never easy. Whereby in reality, coupled with the most minor change of events, the line is easily thinned and crossing over is as easy as ABC. Perhaps my novel of love was never meant to be a poignant portrayal of true love, but one where dependence triggered due to loneliness is the determinant of its existence. And for all the piercing pain i have been through...i felt confused that it dissolves just like a rub between the knuckle of my finger. Hope this feeling sustained for a week or so...and i am back to the jovial above average joe. Okay, i know i am a snob to claim myself that. Credit goes to those who helped me achieve my above average status. And i smiled from the bottom of my gab....err i mean heart.