First Class Friends

This is the philosophy of one of my best friend from high school, It made a lot of sense when he told me, and so it's stuck with me ever since. He said that having friends is like inviting a whole lot of people onto a jumbo jet where you are the Captain. Like a commercial airliner, there are different classes of seats. The general friends and acquittance who make up the most majority of the people you will meet in your life, they get seated in the Economy class, where the services are standardised. There's the Business Class where closer friends hang out, and generally enjoy better catering and hotter air-hostess. But the most precious people in your life, you keep them close in the First Class, where upon opening the Captain's cabinet, you attend to them with most of your time and energy.

The curious thing is that you will never be able to write a set rule or protocol on deciding who gets to be in the First Class, it's instinctual. You meet someone, exchange pleasantries, then they start to seat themselves into the different classes. Most people will gladly stay in the Economy Class, but once in a blue moon, you will bump into another person who you will invite to the First Class straight away.

Sometimes when you arrive at certain airports in life, some of the passengers may depart and new ones will board. Even your First Class passengers may leave you in pursuit of their own destination, but you'd always reserve an empty seat for them. For you know that someday when they'd like to fly with you again, there is always a seat for them.

Blue Eyes

Bright blue blue sky, lightly painted with wisps of fluffy clouds. It sits just on the vast horizon where the sky meets the ocean, the blurry division faithfully guards the start of the canvas where the darker shades of blue are painted onto it. With the green undertone, each layer of the marine blue grow richer and thicker in colour, only to be broken by brushes of white as the wind forces the wave-tops to crush onto itself.

I looked around to find two different shades of blue; The iris blue perfectly circumscribes the sphere, whereupon folds of violet line in furrows along the circumference, and on approaching the centre, gradually give way to the radiant yellow-green that disperse in directions like the rays of the gleaming sun. In the middle, a vibrant sapphire blue, like the Great sinkhole of Belize, describes an alluring depth, a window to her mysterious soul.

She has fiery auburn hair that sways and flirts with the wind, yet the tame fringe rests comfortably on her forehead, half covering her alluring blues. Her pink lips framing the neatly displayed pearls, that when she smiles, the up lifting smirk brings the whole world smiling too. If ever angels be, for God's good purpose enthroned in mortal form, they may be, without impiety, supposed to abide in such as hers.

It was a sun shiny day at Victor Harbour, and I did not have a camera with me, so I took a mental picture. But trying to describe the image is a crime, for words do not speak the essence of her beauty.

Stupid grin

You know that smile? that exhibition of pure, unadulterated bliss? The stupid, mirthful grin that permeates out from within? It could only be convinced by a general state of content, induced not by any real material achievement, but by a worthless sense of romance? Sickeningly sweet to all observing, but nectar to the ones immersed in it.