She

This is note really a letter nor an essay nor a expository or technical write-up. Instead, this is more of an expression of spontaneous thoughts storming into the writer's mind as he strikes every key on the keyboard.

She

She is the epiphany. She is the epitome of sweetness. She has a rather striking personality in which you may find off-beat in times but is really a sweet tune of music. She has a soul which resonates to the hearts she touches. She is somewhere there, maybe nowhere, often everywhere, indefinitely in there, always here, here, near the aorta. She has the hair of every other girl, black or maybe dark brown, long, in some occasions, shoulder length due to unforeseen circumstances, soft and with the brilliant fragrance of the shampoo she meticulously selects. She has a voice of an angel, really now, can you think how may times that line has been used to describe the voice of a person. Although it might sound sweet and flattering. erase that--- She has a voice of sweet sensation, a voice capable of soothing the soul and give you a tingling sensation. It's neither high nor low, it's exactly what your heart needs. She has a captivating smile that may bring your world into a halt or suck your world into vacuum. She is active, she disseminates to the world, probably she may find it tiring to stay with only one. She is the epiphany .

He

He is the puzzle. He is not as sweet as every other boy nor is a skilled or profound. He waits. He goes to church hoping even with the slightest probability to see a familiar face, not that he goes to church just for that. He is definitely defensive. He asks for signs to someone with a lot of wisdom on how to approach each step of the way. He sees them even with an extra "L" or "S" or "I", he does indeed familiarize them with what he wants to tell his mind. He sees a lot: mini, white, curvy, tall, plunging, teared-up, pasta, red, blushing, straight, bumpers, slots, and many more you can think of if you already realize what they are. He never finds leisure in them. Thus, going back to seeing she even with the slightest similarity, hearing she with every voice so sweet, smelling she with the undeniably sweet aroma of perfumes, and feeling her with every emotion in his heart. He is silent. He isn't the emoistic type of person although "emoistic" is really a non-existent world he just thought of to coin a certain personality, he may be ingenious. He never likes to open up. He treasures joy and imprisons the opposite of joy which making his insides masochists. He sees the positive in life but not for himself but for.... He is the puzzle. He waits.

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This

For this is not organized in any way necessary nor is pointed in any specific. But if you familiarize it, don't blame me. This is meant to be read as it was published. If it wasn't then there is no point of putting it here, the writer would have written on a piece of paper instead. For this is the first article the writer made via electronic device instead of paper which is still better, for so he thinks, just bear with it because he is the author and you can't do anything about it. You're free to criticize since most writers would love that sort of thing, good or bad, all are accepted, also cash if you like.

Writing is an art at a same time is a science, and also a hobby. You may define it as much as you want but definition means nothing as for it's not what truly you believe in, instead expound, elaborate, explain, describe. This is the first time the writer thought this way as for he had taken writing for granted.  Learn to write with your hearts and minds not with your hands.

Ainzley
2011