He might...

As the wings of perfect flame glow out of passion.

A title taken from a line of a song. A title that perfectly fits his whole being, his current feeling and his existence - his life, for short. This is the chronicles of his so called life.

Life in the eyes of a person like him is like a dazzling panorama. Dozens, maybe thousands of pictures pasted on the canvas. Each frame mocking the one viewing them, mocking him - the one who's face is reflected on each picture. Each frame shows a certain point in his life. His highs and maybe some lows. After seeing each picture, he will smile as he remenisce the very event that made this picture eminent.

On the upper right corner of the canvas, he saw a picture, it was his graduation picture when he was in elementary. He was with his mother. You might ask where's his father at? He has a well rehearsed answer on that one - he was abroad. He grew up without a father. Yes, his father returns home every once in a while, but his childhood wasn't complete, for he did not experience flying kites with his father on sunsets, or telling him about his crush on elementary days...

He pasted his picture back on the canvas and saw another one. Ah, yes, he remembered it quite well. He was wearing a gold medal. He won an art competiton. A happy memory he thought, he beat competition from other schools. That's no big deal he thought, he have no idea he got this talent. He was bright, at some extent, maybe smart? But there's one thing for sure, he has this talent he has no idea he has because he was doing this all his life. His love for art.

He smiled as he took his last gaze upon this picture. He realized that his panorama was composed of happy pictures and sad pictures. An equal amount perhaps? He cannot tell. He realized he's wasting much of his lifetime fooling too much around.

Now, he wants to write his experiences, maybe he wants to read what he was thinking that time when a girl, for the very first time broke his heart. Or maybe the his first kiss? That moment when his lips touched the lips of that girl he liked. That very moment when that sensation, that feels like it was shocking your whole body, was felt.

He might write about the setting sun and the beauty of waves as it hammers against the ocean rocks. Maybe he might write on how he dislikes his brother's dog for it never acknowledges him?
He might write about that one time when he did this stupid mistake that in turn, made his girlfriend cry.

He thought for a while... that girl... Yes, he might write about that one time they walked this boulevard. It was raining back then, his arms were around her for they can't fit under one umbrella or maybe about this one time when she travelled late at night just to attend mass with him? He can't wait..

Or maybe, he will write their countless quarells. Her being so stubborn that made him like her more? Or this one time when she cried because they were breaking up but it did not really happen because she took it back.

He has so much to write about...

Or maybe this last time when he thinks it might end this time. She was so busy now that she has no time to just to send him a message? He wanted to end it but he can't. He wanted to but he won't.

For he loved her more than anyone could love anybody else.

Wake up.

I'm gonna ride this plane out of your life again.
I wish that I could stay, but you argue more than this.
I wish, you could've seen my face in the backseats staring out the window.

I'll do anything for you. Kill anyone for you.
So leave yourself intact 'cause I will be coming back.
In a phrase to cut these lips. I love you.

The morning will come, in the press of every kiss with your head upon my chest.
Where I will annoy you.
With every waking breath, until you decide to wake up.

I've earned through hope and faith.
On the curves around your face, that I'm the one you'll hold forever.
If morning never comes for either one of us, then this I pray to you, wherever:


I'll do anything for you. This story is for you.
'cause I'd do anything you want me to for you.

I'll do anything for you. Kill anyone for you.
So leave yourself intact 'cause I won't be coming back,
In a phrase to cut these lips I loved you.

The morning will come. In the press of every kiss. With your head upon my chest.

Where I will annoy you with every waking breath...