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Red velvet ribbons sprinkled with gold dust
10:11 PM
Red velvet ribbons sprinkled with gold dust

Acquaintances assume you like to eat McD's.
Because hey, everyone likes McD's.

Friends know you like to eat McD's.
If they didn't know this, they wouldn't be friends.

Good friends know you prefer McD's over BK.
Cause you think McD's is nicer and BK's portions are huge for you, but they know you wouldn't mind defecting to BK for them occasionally.

Old-time friends aren't amazed that you don't really like Coke.
Cause they've been McD-ing with you umpteenth times and seen you leave your cup of Coke practically untouched.

True friends, well, I've got a lot to say about true friends...

True friends can remember what you used to order 2 years ago and they know how many plates of tomato ketchup you'll take and they also know what you do to the food before eating it and they stop laughing each time you do it cause its such a "you" thing to do. They know which sort of sundaes you like and they know how long you'll take to eat it and they'll tease you about the time you take but its all good-natured and if they don't tease you, you start wondering what's wrong. True friends sometimes slow down when they eat, just for fun so that you won't always be the last to finish and they make you wish you could eat McD's with them day in day out.

I have this sudden desire for a mixed Sundae cone now. I haven't had one for ages.

I'm putting it away in the box and turning the key so that it won't escape. Tying a red velvet ribbon around it and sprinkling some gold dust over it for memories sake. Then I'll place it up on the second shelf where it will be out of sight until I look up at it. Sounds impossible, but I dare say that I've learnt something after all this time. And I'll only reach up for that box in the quiet darkness of the night, undo that pretty bow and unlock the box when all's still and peaceful. Perhaps I'll even open the lid of the box just a little and peep in to check if it has slept dormantly or if it still has the energy to fly. And maybe just maybe if I can't stop it in time, a teardrop will fall into the box and ruin the flawless perfection of it, marring its beauty and making it inky.

I don't want it to. But if that happens, then so be it. I don't think I can stop it alone.

Written on Wednesday, June 06, 2007; 10:11 PM


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