Oh, stupendous soul,
I got your ode.
Mines’ a bore,
Though it never sore.
My shadow
Didn’t learn, doth?
I know that.
My Copperfield bud,
You lent me that industrious hand.
Spared me those absorbent shoulders.
You sent away the jitters.
. . . made me better.
When you get lost in San Francisco,
Call me.
Call me,
And we’d get lost together.
Coz
It’s in together,
Where good thing lay;
And when best moments
Take place.
You always bring a spare
sun in your eyes.
Oh, and the moon!
Right there!
Automatic, when I say
You’re nice.
I just finished watching the 2017 film of Victoria & Abdul. I watched it twice to grasp as much humanity as I can. Because I am moved by the story’s core theme of friendship—one of my favorite subjects to muse and explore. Please note, however, that it’s a real-life story during the Victorian era, when the female protagonist ruled as the monarch of Great Britain and Ireland from 1937 to 1901, or the death of Queen Alexandrina Victoria according to the Website of the Royal Family.
In brief, the story is about the friendship of the late monarch and her Indian friend, Abdul Karim. Sadly, most people during that time, saw their friendship malicious, when come to think of it, friendship has many faces just like love. And I can relate.
With all honesty, several times in the past, I faced scrutiny for having men friends. But just like the woman protagonist, I didn’t give up on friendship, thinking and reaffirming that regardless of any reasons, to find or have a friend—is such a blessing. It deserves impunity.
I reiterate: Friendship is the highest form of love on earth. That even marriages transcend into deeper friendship over time. Again, sadly, even love, or friendship for that matter is not exempted from the gravest human error of prejudice. But isn’t it, both love and friendship can bring out the best in us? That to find another human being, who treats us with kindness and affection, is indeed a blessing. That this world is too big, and life is too complicated for anyone to be alone. That to find someone, who is willing to be there for us ‘til our last dying breath, is truly a gift to cherish? More so, if it’s more. I am just glad it was captured that way in the film.
To end, here in the Blogosphere, we are lucky enough to make incremental steps in healing the wounds of prejudices. For we follow, we like, we comment, we support one another without regard to age, religion, race, gender, even language barriers (or/and the likes). This is one great reason; we should cherish blogging. For we make sense here, never allowing such blind spots hinder as we strive to be better people and make meaningful lives. Bottom line: Friends are friends. And love is love.
It is in autumn,
When true humility and kindness
From trees and foliage
Are in action.
Death is slow motion.
. . . seeing trees cascading in colors of the horizon—
Of red, gold, and orange;
Being at height,
Happiness
Is always in inquest; at question.
It is in autumn,
When the sun fall short
In warming the Earth:
Everything, and everyone
Has limitation.
. . . accepting change, mind need not to be in commotion;
Understanding fortitude, endurance, and resiliency
Aren’t patented to trees.
And due diligence brings makeover to every notion.
If only yeses
Can come with whys
And responses with a smile—-
All differences can arrive
To peaceful resolution, sigh.
“If there’s no forever, can I just love you everyday, every minute, every second? With every beat of my heart, can I just keep loving you in every tick of the clock?” Me.
Lyrics, Sentiments and Me is twelve-years young—and I am thankful! For this blog is a testament that I have been in hell and high waters. And whether knowingly or unknowingly, my ups and downs are mostly documented in this blog. Then you, kind souls, are my beautiful witnesses. I am truly grateful. Thank you, all!.
Nonetheless, I started this blog with musical accompaniment courtesy of YouTube videos (Thank YouTube) and along with my novice photography or a digital art. Love was the most used theme along with nature in my non-fiction creative writing. In many instances, I scribbled like a teenager so immersed in love. Some appreciated, labeling me as romantic and wistful. Others were not so much, calling me silly and gullible (and so much more). But folks, I have no regret. I even want to keep it that way forever.
Because not to be cheesy about it: Love and/or to love, is the only thing, we should never get tired of doing (note that it’s an act and a virtue). For with it, simply, we cannot go wrong. Besides there’s is no such a thing as love overdose. Most importantly, love’s “user instruction,” is pretty rudimentary: “To love and be loved,” and “To have and to hold.”
To end, allow me to extend love and my deepest gratitude to these amazing fellow bloggers:
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