My best friend, Mr.Big, gave me a white rose last week - this tall beautiful just perfect new-born white flower. It was beautiful.

To me a flower has always deserved a lot of attention, I would be given flowers and I would keep them in beaitful vases over my study desk in front of my bed, I would change the water daily, and made sure nothing got in the way of its view, I would see it early in the morning and late at night giving a hell lot of attention to all its tiny details. Specially white roses.

There's nothing as pretty a white rose or a tulip or those colored kinda daisies.

This one is by far one of the most beatiful anyone's ever given me, and by the next day all sort of clothes, books and bras lied cluttered around it.

I forgot to change the water every single day, and I haven't even given it more than 30 seconds of attention. At Thursday when he called I remembered and gave it a look, it was still beautiful, just perfect. Usually when a flower shows the smallest sign of death I stow it away in a closet where I hang them facing downwards and later place the dry flowers in vases.

Yesterday I came drunk (but in a good way) and looked at it - the flower was brown, with its top inclined and its leaves brown - I made a mental note to throw it away early today.

It's Sunday, it's 3 a.m. and it is still there - lonely and sad with dropping petals.

Sometimes we forget things, we forget little things that made us smile whenever there was a void or a little bore in us. It's not that a flower doesn't deserve attention, it does, but a time comes in life when we forget those little things and clutter things beside them (better things, like shoes and partying).

The past months have been great and the flowers got a whole lot of attention, but now it seems I have no bore or wasted time in me. My days have been filled with coffees, parties, friends and laughter - even more so than before. A whole lot more than before.

It's sad that we let things slide and it's sad to say I haven't paid attention to the beatiful little things. It's sad that I've thrown away the "what with people think?", a bit of my morals and my caring and have been partying without a care in the world. Then again, what a month it has been!

I don't know what it is that bothers me. I missed this beatiful rose in bloom and had a hectic week, and I regret not having been here to pay enough attention to it - or me come to that - and I regret knowing that I've wasted a whole lot of seconds watching flowers before.

How do we balance our time to appreciate the little things as much as they deserve? How do we balance out the partying and... us?

Why is it that time after time we fall by the same mistakes, we stumble over the same rock, and fall for the same type of guys - why is it we fall over and over again for that same old guy?

Yeah, mistakes shape us and, together with lots of other factors, make out who we'll become and make up our destiny... but sometimes do we truly learn from them?

The 2nd time we make the same mistake is always probably due to our hidden hopes that this time something would've changed, that we would win over them - a hope that this time around we would be stong enough to overcome it... But what about the 3th, 4th, 5th, or 20th time...?

Maybe it's routine, maybe we can't help it, maybe (even on the 30th attempt) we still have hope...

Again... do we really learn?

Is it normal to repeat the same old mistake for the 100th time?

One remedy could be to let go of hope after the 3rd or so... but where would that get us? Without hope we've got nothing, but with it we've got ourselves a bruised heart and probably a bruised ego.

Should we just 'learn' and let go of hope by the 3rd mistake, stick to that, and risk the chance that maybe if we'd kept for the 4th we would've won?

Or should we risk losing and getting harmed, keeping hope even after the 10th?

How do we know the next time could be different? How do we know if people really change? What defines if we're stong enough for the hit (or the strike, come to that)? How do we know we won't get shitted all over once again? When it comes to risks and chances how much is too much?

When you're in love you never know if you've spinned out of sense,
or if everything has finally begun making sense.

It's leaving the world of black and white, and everything becomes gray.

You never understand why the sky is now much more blue, why the wind blows in such a playful way, why everything tastes sweeter, why rainy days suddenly seem so great.

Please add your own small comments on love in the comments section, and I'll pick out the best ones and post them later on.

So tell me how you feel when you're left alone, when missing's all you've got in that shallow hears of yours. Tell me what it's like to build illusiong and shatter them, to break a heart, glue it back and play some more... Just tell me what it's like... And how is it you get your mind to fool your heart, and look me in the eye as if there's nothing there... And baby, baby fake some more and tell me how you manage to breath when left alone, with shadows in the wall and ink staing in the floor... Tell me what it's like.

Let's face it, we all have a Mr.Big in our lives - just like Carrie had hers. My Mr.Big is my very best friend, a year older than me, skinny and cute. I have been head over heels for him several times several years ago, and as of 2 years ago I've come to really get over that counfusion and realize friends is much better when it comes to us. He's the guy that calls 3 times a day (and vice versa, I call him) just to sing a good song he suddenly remembered, just to tell me his newest twisted dream, just to discuss life's twists and turns, and to tell each other every tiny little thing that cracked us a smile that day, or that angered us as well. We share every victory and every failure, we share similar tastes and likes, and a very similar way of thinking - which people often remind us, calling it 'synched'. Mr.S it's a guy my age I've been head over heels for since early this year, or maybe late last year - I've lost count - and he's the typical guy that as much as we have in common we have in dis-common. He's a guy people often judge as the 'really nice guy from class' and that's it. He's not one of the guys me and my friends usually hang or go out with, although we all have a good relationship with him. I saw much more in him... and we simply clicked. He gets how complicated I am, and I get... I don't know what I get, except that he's the nicest guy I've met and I'd love nothing more than to have him take care of me. _________________________ __ It's stupid and just plain foolish of me to thing I still have hope, to still thing I have a chance with him. It's stupid to spend all the time at a club or at school acting as though if he were watching, to sit in my porch at 2a.m. having a smoke with still some vague hope to see his headlights on the street as he reaches my house - coming just to say hi and hug me. I do this very often - fantasize about his visiting at 2a.m. - because that's what Mr.Big would do - pop up at 4p.m. or 2a.m. just to chat and hug, sometimes calling beforehand and sometimes without any notice. Proposing we go to some taco stand just because, or go take pictures at a touristy spot just for the hell of it, or arriving with a book of drink reciped to experiment in the kitchen for awhile (although it's piña coladas the only thing we ever succesfully make). It isn't actually fair to him or to any other guy that I compare them to Mr.Big, it's just that he is someone that's been climbing the charts for years, someone that I have mounted on a very high shelf, and someone that's as spotaneous and caring as I ever hope a boyfriend will be. See, he's my catch, my safety net for whenever I'm about to fly off mi senses, for whenever I'm about to break. He's who I'm willing and wanting to spend every sad moment, every lonely moment, but mostly every fun unforgettable moment. Bad thing I just don't feel for him that little something we need in a relationship - that charm or zsa zsa zsu or whatever the hell it is this other guy fills my body of. Shame I just can't force myself to love him, any more than I can't force this other guy to be Mr.Big.

Maybe love is a made-up fairy tale, maybe an unreachable illusion, maybe as tangible as a kiss, maybe a drug that should be banned, maybe a narcoleptic, maybe a shot through the heart, maybe it is yet another term for friendship with passion, maybe it is a whole new term, maybe it is sweet, maybe it is bitter, maybe sometimes both, maybe it is where we least expect it, maybe it's standing right in front of us, maybe it really has no rules, maybe it should have state laws, maybe it is the answer to every question - then again, maybe it is the question.

Hi, after months of posting (maybe a year or more, can't remember) I stopped doing it, erased every post ever written, and forgot about my blog... in a lame effort at being less complicated. Truth is, post or no post, I'm complicated, to my every last living cell. Sometimes saying all these things I mean to say, aloud to all my friends, still can't fill the void I have for screaming every sentiment and every feeling. So here I am again - exposing every thought I have, have had, or could possibly have. This is just me.