The momentary delusional state of having a CRAZ.
You get a glimpse of that one person who can get your heart skip a beat…who can put ants in your pants…who tickles you in every part without doing anything. Like much? Yeah, the embodiment of your fantasies.
But more often than not, it ends there. For reasons more than one, you simply can’t have.
The Stranger
Mesmerized. You follow gaze ‘til where your neck would allow. When already out of view, you try to cling to the image captured (faster than the fastest of shutter speeds and in full HD) in your head. You stop in your tracks for a while. Tweak the image a bit…moving to a totally different location and changing the circumstance. Then you smile…zapped back to the reality…then you move on.
The Regular…but still a stranger
You see him. Then the next day or two…there he goes. As if fate’s in a scheming plot, he keeps entering the scene. Now, here you go…trying to convince yourself that this must be some sort of telltale sign of things to come if you decide to act upon it. That actually there’s more to just exchanging split-of-second looks, lucky if there was a whiff of air as you pass by each other that you excitedly take in, or a brush of each other’s articles.
the Boobtube persona…
the Neighbor…
the Colleague…
the Friend …
…even one’s self
Yes, it comes in many forms, shapes and sizes depending entirely how we perceive what an ideal is. Given as it is, it brings about in us the same feeling of being unreasonably giddy and pumped up with youthful vigor. This same reason that we entertain the idea of possibility for something more…diverting slightly out of our way or as drastic as a pivotal turn not minding if this could be an incommode. You walk the same path even if there’s an easier route hoping you’d bump into each other, eating at the same restaurant for days just to lay eyes on that cute crew, or nightly passing by the bank to get a sweet smile from the sentinel.
