Saccharine Irony

This site is a compilation of fluid thoughts, a collection of poetry, random glimpses of humor and tragedy, spontaneous notions of an extremely sensitive mind.

Musical Prose November 23, 2008

Filed under: Faves,Love — Aimee @ 4:46 am
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I Miss You



To see you when I wake up

Is a gift I didn’t think could be real.

To know that you feel the same as I do,

Is a three-fold Utopian dream.

You do something to me that I can’t explain

So would I be out of line if I said,

I miss you.

I see your picture, I smell your skin on the empty pillow next to mine

You have only been gone ten days, but already I am wasting away.

I know I’ll see you again

whether far or soon.

But I need you to know that I care

and I miss you.





Meet me in outer space

We could spend the night

watch the earth come up.

I’ve grown tired of that place;

won’t you come with me?

We could start again.

How do you do it?

Make me feel like I do.

How do you do it?

It’s better than I ever knew.

Meet me in outer space.

I will hold you close,

if you’re afraid of heights.

I need you to see this place,

it might be the only way that

I can show you how it feels to be inside of you.

How do you do it?

Make me feel like I do.

How do you do it?

It’s better than I ever knew.

You are stellar.


The Haunted Dreamer September 18, 2007

Filed under: Saccharine thoughts — Aimee @ 5:09 am
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I am currently loving Unwritten by Natasha Bedingfield. I don’t really know, but the song just speaks to me. It’s actually a harsh retelling of what I should be doing with my life right now, but because of it’s nice, kind-of-positive tune, it doesn’t sound as harsh as I have personally deemed it to be. I should know because I’m always staring at a blank page, and actually my bedroom windows are kinda dirty (don’t tell my mom), I just seem to have too many inhibitions for comfort, and really, as much as I love the sound of the rain, and the romantic, subdued atmosphere it brings, I hate getting caught up in it without an umbrella ( ask my SO; read: significant other)!

So, so. the song is simply, albeit pointedly, telling me, to “Start conquering the world right this very second, because for all its breadth and height, you’ll need more than a few lifetimes to actually get to do it!!!!!” But then again, I go back to reassuring my ego, and that yes, little baby steps will do for now, little baby steps that shall soon grow into monumental adult steps, very very soon. I know time is running fast, and honestly, I can’t convince myself that I love my job in this boring insurance agency, and probably never will unless they give me a marketing and/ or writing assignment, plus a hefty paycheck.

But, after hibernating for so long, I’m afraid I no longer realize what I’m actually good at. I love the English language, and I love reading (though work constraints don’t always allow me to do it very often), and I love observing people, but I don’t fancy myself a good writer. I have not even written anything substantial in the past six months, and am easily distracted by so many things at once: a ringing cellphone, office clients, curious apprentices, my indispensable S.O., late night TV shows, Youtube, eeetceeteeerrra. I love to cook, I love to bake, I love staying in the kitchen, but I still don’t know if I will ever make a career out of it, unless I take a decent culinary course, or have enough money to put up my own business. I am fond of little kids; learning their language is amazingly easy for me, and have been toying around with the alternative of teaching preschool as a profession. But. But because I am a management graduate, I have to take up several units of Education courses and pass the LET exams before I can teach in a primary school.

Which then brings us back to my day job as an office clerk/ desk officer/ remittance poster/ appprentice trainer/ documents filer in a small office I share with obnoxiously loud males. While I don’t plan this to be my lifetime gumption, I have come to love Bukidnon and its picturesque valleys and mountains, and the gentle, easy ways of its people. I can even imagine a life here — a nice white picket fence house, me typing on a laptop in my room (writing, I imagine), a hubby whipping me up my fave pasta, opening a quaint cafe, and weekly travels to the city, monthly travels over the country and yearly or bi-yearly travels around the globe.

There is yet too much in my life, however that’s unwritten, as Ms. Bedingfield goes, and if I don’t discover how to blot ink on these immaculate pages, I shall forever be haunted by the lost possibilty of conquering this world, breadth by breadth, height by height.