The Boat That Rocked

It was in the depth of night.
The wind was angry, the sky was pitch black, the water was dancing furiously beneath our boat.
You were gripping so hard onto me as I hugged you.
"Am I too close? Am I making you hard to breathe?" you asked.
Adjusting my breath inside of your embrace I smiled "It's okay. It's warm near you, I am fine"
Smiling, I looked at you from the corner of my eye.
My silly guy, who are you fooling? 
Are you clinging onto me to protect me - or to feel protected yourself?
But of course I don't say a word, a win-win situation for us.
You got to be clingy and I got to see how adorable you can be at times.
I was happy, your warmth was enough.

It was in the depth of night.
The wind was angry, the sky was pitch black, the water was dancing furiously beneath our boat.
"The boat is shaking! The boat is shaking!" you yelled, waking me up.
"Of course it is. It has been like this these past few nights. It's normal."
"Yes but it is shaking! The Gods hate us! Look! The situation is unfavourable! We'll sink! We'll sink!" you were shaking me hard, shaking the boat even harder.
You threw tantrum, our utensils were scattered around, hurting you, hurting me.
I tried hard to stabilise our small boat.
Its got all the necessity, not grand, but enough for us to survive till we find the land.
Least we've got ourselves a boat, unlike those who jumped to the unknown, not being able to find their maps.
Oh talking about maps...
"Honey, it's normal like this. The ride is a bit shaky in this area, you know it. We had no way but to choose this path, remember? You accidentally throw the rest of the maps..wasn't really an accident, but hey, we're here, okay"
It really is not the time to dwell and be angry about the remaining maps isn't it.
But we chose this path because of you, least I need you to be calm. It would help.
"But it is scary here. The weather is terrible. The boat is shaking..." as you started to calm down after quite some time.
"It's okay. We'll get there soon. We have this map, okay? Now please help me by being a good boy, okay?" as I caressed your back trying to cover the pain from your tantrums earlier.
It has been like this for quite a while.
I don't know. Days? Weeks? Oh, months. It's been months.
If he didn't throw all the maps, we wouldn't be here.
But hey, being here is better than nowhere, at least I've got him, at least we have somewhere to go too.

It was in the depth of night.
The wind was angry, the sky was pitch black, the water was dancing furiously beneath our boat.
"Look at where we are! We're sinking now! It's your fault! It's your fault we are here! We're sinking!"
Exhausted and hurt, I told you "Look, it wasn't me who destroy the maps, okay. We have no other choice. Besides, we're not sinking, this area is pretty tough...the wind.."
"We do! You brought us here. I opted out! I don't wanna be here! I opted out! I wanna go out!" you became hysterical.
"You destroy the maps. You couldn't control your anger. Now what? You're scared. The whole situation scares you - and you're not the only one, me too, I am scared too. But it's okay since we've got each other, yeah? Now stay still and be calm, okay? It's just the weather, okay? I am not going to blame you for the maps, but we're here because of you, so...stay calm, okay?"
Tired. Tired. Tired.
It wasn't me who deviate the paths.
It wasn't me who destroyed the maps.
But with you being like this, I've got no option but to be the bigger person.

Tired. Tired. Tired,
Of you putting the blame on me. Of you never appreciate everything I've done for you.
But if I do what you're doing right now, it won't do us any good.
I question you a lot, have you lost your mind out of fear?
I question myself a lot, have I been too naive thinking that you would never mean to hurt me?

Have you - I mean, lied to me about all of those? 
Promised land? Future? Safety?
No, no, you wouldn't lie to me about this. You're paranoid. 
You're scared and irrational, but you never meant to hurt me. 

"No! No! No! You can't stabilise this boat! You brought me into this area! You! Get out! Get out I've said" you began raging.
"But it wasn't me who brought us here. This situation, you've caused all of this. I forgave you, okay. I forgave you all along, so be calm, stay still...okay?"
"No! No! No! I don't remember saying that! Why are we here? WHY ARE WE HERE?"

Shocked, startled, saddened.
It was you who choose to jump into this boat with me.
It was you who proposed these routes of safety.
It was you who asked me to trust in you - and I did, despite what the authority and bureaucracy said, I did, and I took that curve on your lips, that glisten on your eyes, the exchange of conversation and ideas we had as a sign of entrustment. I trusted my heart in you.

As you came closer to me, ready to throw me off the boat, I asked
"Throwing me won't change a thing. You throw all the maps. We're here, it won't change a thing. Get back to your senses..okay? It won't change a thing, the weather, nothing."
"No! Get out! Get out! Get away from me!"

The wind was still angry, the sky was still pitch black, the water was dancing furiously around me.
And as the night swallow me whole, I've realised
It wasn't the lie that hurts - it was the fact that I am not worthy of your promises.
It wasn't the betrayal that hurts - it was me foolishly believing in the kindness that I thought I saw in you.

To The Monster I Wasn't Once, This is for You.

Listen here and here,

Once upon a time I've decided to confide to a soul.
"This is the one" my Guardians said - and for certain period I thought I was the happiest.
Fate said I have to go, so I've decided to leave a part of me, knowing that he will guard it.
Off I went, with heart full of hope and trust in my baggage.

Once upon a time, my ship went through a stormy night, and I couldn't stop wondering about the other part of me.
I confide in him, therefor I had nothing to worry about, right?
I know he will keep it safe, after all I confide in him.
So I went inside of my deck and calmed my crew.

Once upon a time, after so many stormy nights, my crew has gotten weary.
'Stay with me' I said, holding the other part of me dearly inside my palm.
Every scholar has to go through so many exams, I thought to myself, all I needed to do is to be strong enough to pass one after another - I am tired, I am broken, I am dust and bones.
After all he was waiting for me, and I had to go back home, to him, to us.

Once upon a time, I stopped sailing the sea and the exams were over.
Water was never my home, but for once, our city feels foreign for me.
I could smell secrecy lingering around, but betrayal seems like a myth.
After all, I trust you, the very person I hold dear to me - there's no way you would hurt me, would you?

Once upon a time, in his territory, nothing reeks of him; it feels different and distant - were you even the same person I thought I knew?
They say dreams are the way the Universe speaks to us, and in my dream I stumbled next to a case 'To Be Disposed' written on top of it.
Curious, I opened it, and much to my surprise found the part I once confided in him.
For a split second my heart sunk, and I thought 'So this is what betrayal feels like'.

Once upon a time, it finally clicked in my head.
All the pain and sufferings, must've been done because I carry the burden of two.
All the tears and failures happened because someone decided to pull away from the string, and just like science has thought us well, the force threw the other who was holding on to it.
Just like all the emptiness and lack of connection must've happened because someone decided to shut the power off.

Once upon a time, deep inside my safe haven, the Guardians were taking notes, listing down his betrayal.
In my silence I was screaming, through my tears, my heart bled.
I didn't know which pain was more unforgivable;
The fact that you're denying me as part of you, consciously threw me off the cliff,
Or the fact that you watched me suffer and rot, yet choose to hide inside your fear; for your own 'safety',  for your own selfishness -  knowing you're the cause of it,

Once upon a time, there he was, struggling to make a solidity out of it.
You know what's funny about revelation? The information was never new.
A revelation would only happen once one has been enlightened, allowing a shift of new perspective.
He refused to acknowledge the beginning of this destruction - because you know you've caused it.
Instead, he shifted the focus, blaming me, raging on the bricks and wooden chunks that cut him - you forget this all the aftermath of what you've created?


Once upon a time they say my soul is older than him, but my dearest All Seeing One, please hear me for once & for all.
I am not here to be taken for granted, to carry the blame for getting hurt, and especially, not to be guarded by a betrayer.
Remember what they always say about disguise? It's always a self reflection.
I know forgiveness doesn't have an expiration dates, but what if the one who shall forgive has been stripped down from her home, her safe haven, her trust - and her very own ability to forgive?

Once upon a time, there I was, consumed by pain of betrayal, of lies, and deceives.
There he was, watching me patching up all the rotten bits being moulded into the monster that I am - least I was trying to survive.
A murmur came out from my lips, so soft it disguised itself as a whisper,
"Do you think we're worth saving?"
And then the sky turns grey, the water turns black, and the castle fell apart.

Archived: The Defeat That Wasn't

Mood:

Svavar Knútur - Emotional Anorexia 
Ween - Things You Already Know

  

In your silver strains,

your crooked smile,

and your worn off shirt, I saw a defeat.

In plans about your works,

your project, your future endeavours,

and how they fall after you met me, I saw a defeat.

In the blood that stains your mouth,

your cold palms,

and the water that streams down my eyes, I saw a defeat.

In the voidness of the room,

the silent that bears my screams,

and the way I shake your being, I saw a defeat.

-

My dearest, dearest, darling,

If you and I were to be put in a war,

I'd be winning over your reign,

and you'd be losing over your throne.

My dearest, darling,

If you and I were to be put in a war,

a defeat and a heartbreak of one

would be a victory for another.

My dearest darling,

If we were to be put in a war,

I saw a defeat,

in the way we've lost us to our fate.

To the one who always say how lovely I look,

no matter how tired, messed up - or how many times I refuse to believe so.

To the one who's never tired fighting for me,

who woke me up from my emotional hibernation.

To the one who helped me grow, improve, and feel empowered,

who never stopped having faith in me.

To the one that matters,

the one that loves me unconditionally.

(PS: Let's watch Over The Garden Wall again, some other time)

Archived: Catatan Panjang Bulan Februari

Mood:
Love Paranoia by Tame Impala
Saliva by Mew

Ditengah gemuruh angin celotehmu memecah langit muram London.
Baru beberapa minggu setelah 2014 merelakan tahtanya ditumbang.
Yang awal mulanya keluh kesah tentang saudaramu, berubah jadi gelak tawa.

“Hari ini gue banyak ngomong ya?” tanyamu.

“Lumayan” tukasku seraya melihat rautmu  “Nggak papa sih, namanya juga lagi kesel kan” 

-

Sesekali timbul tanya dalam hati, tentangmu yang kerap menghabiskan waktu merajut kata dalam pikiran ketimbang menyuarakannya untuk didengar oranglain.

“Kapan terakhir kali kamu senyaman ini bercengkrama?" dan 

"Selain denganku, kepada siapa kamu bisa berbagi selepas ini?”

Lantas, ketika sempat kamu berucap mengenai gadis yang kau dekati
dan tidak juanya ia memenuhi jiwamu, ingin aku menyeletuk

“Lupa yang ngerti isi kepala & keabsurdan lo itu gue?"

Namun aku memilih diam.
Karena aku malas kalau guyonku disambut celotehmu yang kerap tajam.

Aku membiarkanmu terus bercerita.
Sesekali aku tergelak, mencibir, mengerenyitkan dahi.
Sesekali kamu membelalakan mata, menaikan suaramu, memimikan gelagat orang lain.
Waktu bergulir terburu-buru, matahari lekas dilahap kelam.
Dalam genggammu, jemariku mengecap hangat. 
Celotehmu berlanjut mengenai tulisanmu, 
bukumu, lebih tepatnya.

-

Lagi lagi kita tergelak,

Aku, dengan kencangnya, 

Kamu, dengan senyum lebar dan binar matamu.

Lucunya, disaat kita saling berujar & terbuka, begitu mudahnya kita bercengkrama,

seakan isi kepala satu sama lain saling bertaut. 

Nyaman. Aneh ya? Kututup dalam-dalam pikiran itu.

Yah namanya sudah kenal lama, wajar saja kalau nyaman.

Selera humormu masih sama.
Gerak gerikmu masih kaku.
Tidak semua orang bisa — atau mau mencoba, mengenalmu lebih.
Bagiku itu terasa mudah, seakan memang itulah yang seharusnya.

—

Mungkin kamu tahu sesuatu yang aku tidak ketahui.

Mungkin kita sama-sama tidak tau apa-apa.

Mungkin pada akhirnya kita memilih saling diam dan pura pura tidak tahu.

Sampai semua rasa hilang ditelan sunyi,

atau berubah jadi pahit kesalahpahaman.

-

Lalu dalam diam, terbesit dalam benakku sekiranya kamu tahu,
dahulu sempat ada manifestasi rasa rindu dan doa untuk kebaikanmu.
Begitu besar rasa sayang kita kepada satu sama lain, sampai kerap khayalakpun berdecak memuji. 
Kalau mereka saja bisa melihat, apalagi kita yang saling merasa?

Setidaknya akupun merasa dan melihat hal tersebut, karena sempat begitu besarnya usahaku memperjuangkan kita.
Begitu besarnya rasa sayang kita pada satu sama lain dan begitu kerasnya kita pernah terbentur.

Sejujurnya (mungkin) kita sudah terlalu nyaman seperti ini.
Sepertinya kekosonganmu sudah terisi oleh egomu, and semakin angkuh - namun ringkih, sosokmu di mataku.
Akupun mulai mengesampingkan perasaanku, lalu menukarnya dengan logika — atau, sesama ego.

Mungkin ribuan kata, gelak tawa, guratan kening, 
rengkuhan lengan dan tautan jemari belum jadi alasan yang cukup kuat.
Mungkin seberapa besarpun keinginanku untuk mengasihi dan membiarkan waktu dan perhatianku kau curi,

rasa takut dan pertimbanganku nyatanya lebih besar.

Ada yang bilang kalau jodoh tak akan kemana.
Diantara segala kecocokan kita, sempat aku berfikir apakah mungkin saja,

“Semesta masih memperjuangkan kita, anak manusia yang mungkin terlalu lugu?
Terlalu buta?
Terlalu keras hati?”

Setelah mengecup dirimu saat itu pula aku tersadar, kamu bukan lagi sosok yang aku inginkan.

Aku butuh sosok yang lebih kuat dari kamu yang dulu kukenal.

Bukan hanya untuk bertahan, tetapi saling melindungi.

Bukan hanya melindungi diri, tetapi berani merebut dan menjaga isi hatiku.

Bukan hanya untuk berucap logika, tapi berbagi isi hati.

Saat itu aku sadar kamu bukan lagi sosok yang aku mau.
Aku tersadar aku terlalu takut dihantam oleh rasa sakit yang sama, 
maka  aku mengesampingkan pertanyaanmu beberapa hari kemudian.

Mungkin suatu hari, di saat kita sudah sama-sama dewasa dengan kesibukan masing-masing,
Di saat luka sudah mengering,
Cerita kita akan muncul ditengah percakapan,
Kemungkinan besar, dengan guyon yang dipaksa nyempil di sana sini.

Because hey, that's what you do best, no?
Covering everything with humour
making people think as if their matter is not important.
You're that person who is never direct about your feelings.

-

Akhirnya, bagaimanapun kita, khalayak dan Tuhan sekalipun malaikat menyayangkan dan mempertanyakan,
apa artinya bila kita akhirnya hanya memilih berenang-renang di air dangkal pertemanan, 
takut dengan kelam laut didepan mata?

Ah sudahlah. Cukup.
Jemariku ini pun sudah mulai pegal rasanya.
Akupun tahu ada perbedaan diantara wanita yang menyerah, dan wanita yang memang berjuang hingga lelah.

Saat ini aku menutup hati sembari membuka celah kecil agar aku bisa melihat petarung lainnya. 
Yang rela mati-matian memperjuangkanku. 
Yang perhatiannya tidak membuatku merasa sangsi dengan perasaannya.
Yang menjadikanku pusat dari tata surya mereka - posisi di mana aku sempat menempatkanmu.
Yang berani menaruh gengsi di bawah perasaan - tidak seperti kamu. 

Dasar kamu bodoh. Dasar kamu pengecut.

Tulisan ini,
Untuk segala kemungkinan dan ketidakmungkinan.
Untuk segala puji-pujian dari khalayak, betapa baik dan indahnya bila kita bersama.

Untuk segala rasa takut, rasa nyaman, rasa candu, dan perasaan lainnya
yang mungkin atau tidak mungkin, masih tersangkut di sela sela kalimat dan jemari. 

Kucing Pemabuk di Unit Gawat Darurat

Mood:
Open by Rhye
Didn't I by Darondo (cover by HONNE)

Wanita berbalut terusan putih menyiapkan jarumnya
Tak lama bulir merah nadiku mengalir melawan gravitasi
Menandakan dua jam lagi semua di ruang ini hendak tau penyebab tumbangku

Aku masih menyayangimu, ucapmu tiba-tiba
Terkejut, terlampau kalut untuk berbasa basi
Meracaulah aku menutupi kelu lidah

-

"Sial, sial, sial - telepon genggamku dibawanya ke luar."

Aku panik dan kaku

Kuacak-acak isi tasku

Kuputar-putar ujung rambutku

Dari ekor mata, curi-curi kupelajari sosokmu

"Jangan ngomel begitu, main ini dulu saja, buat Hanna, disimpan ya."

Sebongkah mainan dalam genggammu

Miniatur kucing menggengam segelas minuman - sake

Aku sadder betul kali ini lekat gerakku diperhatikan

Dari ekor mata, kamu melihatku bagai kajian

Aku menerka perihal kucing pemabuk itu 

Simbolmu melihatku? Kado yang kamu persiapkan?

Sekedar distraksi panik yang kebetulan saja -

Ingat ya, kebetulan saja, kamu si pecinta kucing, dan aku si penikmat minuman keras?

Pikiranku meracau namun patuh bersembunyi dalam relung

Dan detik ini baru mengucur berbentuk kata dalam layar

Karena nyatanya aku sama pengecutnya denganmu

Terlalu pengecut untuk tahu dan mencari tahu

-

Ratusan malam berlalu sejak kita memutuskan yang terbaik adalah saling berjarak
Puluhan minggu terlewat sejak surat terakhir berisi penjelasan seadanya

Tanpa pamit, tanpa mencoba mencari tahu, hanya praduga dan diam
Namun subuh itu, di instalasi gawat darurat, berkali kamu belai rambutku

Sesak dadaku saat itu dipastikan bukan didalangi sakit yang tertulis dengan tinta

Dan nyatanya tak mungkin saat itu aku merengek pada dokter perihal cinta
Berkali kata 'sayang' kamu luncurkan, terjun bebas sesuka hati
Tak lama namaku dipanggil - sembari kekasihku menunggu dengan nikotinnya di luar, kamu menggantikan posisinya

-

"Jujur saja, melihat Hanna sekarang aku tenang - akhirnya.
Senang melihat kamu dilimpahi kasih sayang.
Awalnya aku agak was-was,
Khawatir yang jelas."

"Nggak perlu khawatir, kamu selalu berlebihan, ya.
Aku kan kuat, tahan banting, jagoan katamu.
.....

Lagian, kamu, kok bisa-bisanya sih masih nyimpan perasaan sama aku?"

"Lah, kayaknya orang yang naruh hati sama kamu, 
kalau nggak bisa berpaling,
ya cari pengganti, pakai kamu jadi pembanding.

Pertanyaanku, kamu pakai pelet apa ya?"

"Ih, jahat banget.
Udah dibilang nggak pake pelet apa-apa juga."

"Hahahaha bercanda.
Eh sebentar, aku ke suster dulu,
Nama kamu dipanggil"

-

Satu sisi, ada rasa tak pantas karena begitu baiknya semesta
Oleh orang-orang baik - kamu contohnya

Besar aku dilimpahi sayang

Bukan tak tahu terima kasih, tapi kulempar tanya alih-alih tafsirku keliru

Sisi lain, mungkin nampak serakah, namun aku bahagia karena kamu masih memendam rasa

Tepatnya, membiarkan aku tahu perihal rasa yang kukira sudah mati
Terus-terus dibelai rambutku sampai gelap malam diganti mentari yang berbisik malu

Bahkan ketika kekasihku datang, hanya tersenyum dia berbisik 'ada yang belum bisa berpaling?'

"Aku sayang kamu, perasaan itu masih ada, 
walau sekarang sudah berubah bentuknya.

Tidak ingin menjadikan kamu kekasih.

Sudah cukup senang melihat kamu bahagia dengannya."

Lalu mendengar itu aku hanya bisa tertegun. 

Aku rasa hening yang bisa memberi jawaban terbaik untuk pernyataanmu itu.

-

Terimakasih sudah sempat merawatku dengan segala keterbatasan waktumu di sini.
Sudah memberitahukan sisa-sisa perasaanmu.
Sudah memberikan penjelasan dan kejelasan untukmu, dan untukku.
Terimakasih atas kejujuranmu.

Tulisan ini, untukmu ribuan kilometer di sana.
Semoga kamu juga bahagia dengan pilihanmu.


PS: Mereka (iya, termasuk kekasihku) yang meninggalkanku di ruang gawat darurat bersamamu ternyata tahu kamu (masih) menyimpan rasa sama aku, kekasihkupun sempat-sempatnya bilang lucu melihat matamu nggak bisa bohong.

PPS: Kekasihku? Nggak, dia nggak sebal sama kamu.
Malah dia kagum sama keberanianmu, kalau sempat nanti kita kumpul-kumpul lagi ya?
Kalau bisa jangan di instalasi gawat darurat.

Come and stay, I have piles of stories to share.

Mood:
Sleepwalk by Santo & Johnny Fariana (1959) (click)
Jim James - State Of The Art (A.E. I. O. U.) (click)

So back then when I was turning 23, I realised I've been into this digital age of sharing bits of my thoughts and feelings through the screen for over - let's say - presumably a decade.

I met, lost, and rekindle, with lots of souls throughout the years.
Spent a good amount of ups and downs and ready for more to come.
I fear a lot and worry even more.
I just somehow can't wait to see how I'll develop as a woman,
as a person, as a soul.

I used to take a lot of photos - and I love it.
Even that word 'love' itself is an understatement.
Young Hanna thought that taking pictures means making her own time machine,
no matter how much time passed, people or places change, it preserves the memory - and she found that to be impeccably beautiful.
It's just so happened that knitting words is her second love, a close competitor after taking photos.

Now I'm older and well aware that my memory serves to save, yet there are things that I can't just fumble forever - like conversations, places, memories that would be forgotten, eventually replaced.

So there I was, pinning down words from my head, to papers, through my pen.

Assembling paragraphs from my thoughts, to my screen, through my fingers.

For quite some time I keep everything for myself, archived and hidden.
(the story behind this? I'll get into that later on....probably.)

My head is crowded with threads of thoughts and files of memories.
I want to document my life. I want to see how I develop.
As a woman. As a human. As a soul.
I want to make my tiny time machine, grazed with pictures,
laced with words, sealed with memories and feelings that fizzled into it.

Now everything I'm putting on the screen might be just a mere fraction,
a tiny part of what was, is, and will be going on inside of me,
but nevertheless, I am letting you to take a peek, inviting you in.

Come and stay around, make yourself feel at ease,
I'm starting by putting out some old archives of mine.

-

PS: this particular writing/ramble is dedicated to a really, really close person in my life, who forced me to carry on with it after reading through emails regarding my writings.
Now I'm getting back on my bandwagon,
I'm doing it for me, and I am thanking her for that.

The Jars of Nature, Nurture, and Growth

There's a void hole in my existence, 
in which I used to store a whole jar of patience, 
a jar of acceptance, and another jar of forgiveness.

Everyday I used it to nurture the love I have for you.

As an example, every time you spilled a tablespoon of my patience,
I would rush back and scoop another one.

Every time you throw away a whole cup of my acceptance
- or refused to accept me for who I am - what I like or dislike, I would went in and fill the jar up.

And every time you steal a portion of my forgiveness,
I went silent,
I listened to your plea, 
and I forgave you for every time you begged me to,
by taking each and every grain in my jar.


Now I am running out of those three ingredients.

My love for you is suffering, at the edge of its life.

It has turned into an undead, a zombie.
Alive, feeding aggressively on any possible source of nutrition
- or else, it will wilt,
becoming one with other feelings who were thrown away,
taken for granted, or dying of exhaustion.

Now my jars what what fills them are no longer there because you've decided to destroy them - taking them for granted.

Look at you, you're angry at me, at yourself, at us.

Because for once, you've realised that I am human 

- with my own limits, doubts, and fears.

Because the jars that supposed to feed you are no longer there

- no matter how many times you try to fill it up, it won't be the same.

You're angry because the shattered pieces of my broken jars cut you off every time you try to fix us.

-

PS:
You shouldn't come asking for someone's forgiveness by offering them your own 'terms & conditions'.

You shouldn't come asking for another chance by saying and doing things halfheartedly.

Silent Knocks

These past months I've received few personal messages telling me that I should write more and that my writing has been missed.
First message struck me as something trivial, but the next ones, from each different individuals, started to seep through me.

I've almost forgotten how therapeutic writing has always been for me.

How it enabled me to overcome some of the biggest obstacles and fears I have yet to face.
I remember how I'd genuinely crave to put my thoughts into words, to inject each and every scattered feelings, to feel as if I was about to explode and that I have to write over and over and over and over of how sad or how happy something, or someone would make me feel.
Writing has always been my comfort zone.

I have been busy doing what I thought as 'living my life'.
Perfecting my what I thought would be the guarantee of my happiness, building what I thought would be my safety net, I forgot what exactly makes me happy.

I am aching for safety, stability, security, and any other things that would keep me away from harm. After all I am only human with reasonable amount of fear and insecurities.

But then I've realized that I have been putting aside my happiness.
Trading my passion for stability.
My source of happiness for security.
And worse, my time, the only thing I could never got back, for constant fear of succumbing into a dull, boring adulthood, and soon will be forgotten as my corpse is ageing and my clock is ticking.



There's a saying which goes 'The only thing standing between me and my happiness is reality"
But I refuse to believe in that.
The only thing standing between me and my happiness is not reality, it is me.
I have the control over which reality I am living in.
I have the control of taking and putting and balancing which aspect of my life I want to pursue more, or most.
I have almost forgotten that what other people might seen as reality is not the reality I, myself, have to live in.

This is me, getting things out of my chest.
This is me, savouring the comfort writing has always been giving me.

If you read this, let me know.

I have been claiming that I have a quarter life crisis.

It is way too early to declare such thing
(make it 3 years too early to be precise)

But it’s easier to call it that way.

One day I could be feeling all fine and breezy.

Like life is good.

Life is a continuum growing process.

Life is full of surprises.

Then on another different time, I’d be feeling weary and dull.

Like everything’s pointless.

Like everything doesn’t have any particular meaning.

I’m not even sure what this feeling is all about.

Most days I’d brush it aside, let is pass and slide away.

Some days I just feel like curling up inside my blanket and form myself into a gigantic burrito.

I have ideas and plans.

Chances and opportunities.
But none of it feels substantial enough for me,
as if they're mere plans with no particular meaning nor reason-to-be.

I’m still figuring it all out,
or so they say.

I have all the time in the universe to figure it all out,

or so I keep telling myself.

I feel like I’m missing something.

I wander and wonder, like it has always been.

Avoiding and hiding.

Searching and absorbing.

Questioning and observing.

Nothing fulfils my numbness nor this voidness in me.

I know I’m craving home.

A home that mutually supports my ideas and dreams.

A home that protects me from my fear.

A home where I can celebrate my progress.
A home with whom I can share a mutual understandings regarding each other's emotional and intellectual being.

A home where I can go back to,
feeling safe and genuinely, alive.

Sometimes I’m tired of wandering and wondering.

But I am nothing close to giving it all up.
That kind of tired where you just feel like going back for a bit and rest.

Recharge your emotional being before you’re ready to conquer whatever it is in your way.

I’m always up to see myself growing and learning.

But it would be nice if only I know that I have a home a can go back to.

Problem is, either I haven't found one, or I let it pass by, or, I don't know.
Really.

I don't know.

Dear home,
Have we, by fate, happen to encountered each other?
Have I, by chance, missed you on my route of finding myself?
Have you, by choice, decided keep it all quite, not to tell me that we could be each other's home?

Dear home, if you're reading this and share my sentiment,
please,
let me know.

First blabber this year

I went through a major blogposts purge back then in 2012 and I promised myself to write more.
Apparently, that didn't work quite well.

Originally this was supposed to be an outlet for me to keep track of myself, so I have something I can reminisce and look back for, sort of a public diary, you can say.

But then again, having several written  journals and social medias where I can freely let my thoughts rumble, this old baby, has once again been neglected.

I remember telling my friends who — thankfully, happen to be my loyal readers (whoa fancy) that I still write, a lot, but it has been slightly modified to a -beta- version, where it is even more publicly accessible — less personal, more relatable, here.
(I remember I posted something about making that account somewhere earlier this year, and whoa it has almost been a year)

I play a lot with metaphors, so naturally, there should be hidden stories & message here and there.
Have fun figuring them out.


Talking about message, this collection from Liaison de Parfum is a major heartthrob.
Imagine giving someone a message in the form of a perfume. 
Although you need to at least buy 2 of them to form a solid sentence, which means knocking 250€ off of your bank.


Done with the intermezzo.
So, shall we go, 2015?

Let me start with a confession here, I've stopped making new year resolution, since, I don't exactly know when.

I remember back then when things where easy peasy, my goals were merely:
1. Learn how to ride a bike 
2. Go to more concerts.
You know what, I'm in my early 20s and I still need an additional safety wheel to ride a bike — which explains why you'd never see me ride any.

I personally think new year resolutions are bullshits.
You get excited for the very first few months — weeks, if you're being honest to yourself,
then everything will start deteriorating and you realise that some shits were bound to happen,
accept fate, face whatever it is that may come in your way,
because you can always have next year for another resolutions, right?
Right? No.

So instead of making yearly resolutions, I'm sticking with my actual long-term goals
(whoa, didn't realise putting both 'long-term' and 'goals' in the same sentence made me feel like a #BOSSLADY)
By deciding which one can be executed first, postponed, improved, even collaborated, I have not been stuck with a '365/6 days time limit'.
While slowly nailing them one by one, I have basically been expanding my goals.

So in short, the distance gets further, the goals get bigger.
I still have a looooo—oolong way there,
but it's fine, it's fun.
Yes, my laptop just decided to auto-corrected the exaggerated 'long' into 'oolong' — the tea,
and I'm too lazy to even go back and fix it so here I am explaining it.

And well, you do realise you need a Yin to your every Yang, right?
So here is how it goes, on the back of one of my journal, I have special spot where I write everything good in it.
No goals, no ambitions, just pure gratefulness.
I remember, some of the lines went as simple (read: stupid) as
'Today the kebab cook gave me a free soda again' or
'I finally found my summer fling, it's a perfume, it's Carven EDT, I'm rocking it forever'— which is a lie,
this winter I'm slowly pushing it to the back of my shelve because apparently, a fling is a fling
— and a bundle of fresh floral notes won't suffice in this colder weather, something heavier is needed.

But hey, you got my point, no?
These whole long-term goals & grateful notes might sound absurd to most of you — but they've been working pretty well for me.

So, anyway, happy 2015 beautiful earth inhabitants.
Please be happy and be awesome,

Much love,
Me.

Go After Her by Harvey Milk

Go after her.

Fuck, don’t sit there and wait for her to call,
go after her because that’s what you should do if you love someone,
don’t wait for them to give you a sign cause it might never come,
don’t let people happen to you,
don’t let me happen to you, or her, she’s not a fucking television show or tornado.

There are people I might have loved had they gotten on the airplane
or run down the street after me
or called me up drunk at four in the morning because they need to tell me right now
and because they cannot regret this

and I always thought I’d be the only one doing crazy things for people who would never give enough of a fuck to do it back
or to act like idiots or be entirely vulnerable and honest

and making someone fall in love with you is easy
and flying 3000 miles on four days notice
because you can’t just sit there and do nothing
and breathe into telephones is not everyone’s idea of love
but it is the way I can recognize it because that is what I do.

Go scream it and be with her in meaningful ways
because that is beautiful and that is generous
and that is what loving someone is,

that is raw and that is unguarded,
and that is all that is worth anything,
really.

The Ocean

I am the ocean.

You are fascinated by my depth and emptiness, 
but you are too afraid to plunge in deep to learn more about me. 

You float in the shallows and say you love my salty tears, 
you love my waves, 
you love the beautiful shells I churn out. 

You are aware there are monsters deep within me,
but you make no attempt to try and find them; 
you make no attempt to see them face-to-face. 

You are happy in your ignorance, 
and I wrap myself around you 
as you frolic in the beauty you see at my surface
and ignore the horrors you know are there. 

I kiss you like I kiss the shoreline,
pulling away 
but always rushing back.

You ignore the fact 
that I swallow the light every night, 
and I am controlled by the ever-changing moon. 

You do not know everything about me, 
but maybe that’s for the best. 

Knowledge would not be power in this case; 
knowledge would suck you into inky depths of my madness 
and cause you to drown. 

I am the ocean and you are simply a tourist; 
you are not an explorer. 
I do not blame you for this one bit.

— 
I credit this guy right here who found and showed me that beautiful piece - telling me that it reminds him of me.
—

That reminds me the last time I went to the beach was 2 years ago.
I'm adding it on my summer to-do list, then.

Warm Winter

Quite some time had passed since New Year holiday.
My initial plan for those two weeks off, was either to hibernate & have a movie marathon or do house chores & finish up some assignments.
By the end of the day I realised none of those plans actually made their way up to my realistic realm. 

But that's okay, I guess.

Yesterday my friends and I finished our first short movie for another Personal Development & Working Methodology class.

In case you're wondering, yes, I am still enrolled in marketing course and don't have any plan in revoking it anytime soon.
This is probably one of very few (if not only) class that does not involve numbers, international laws, marketing strategy or the psychology of consumerism.
But don't get me wrong, I love them all equally, but this class is pretty chill & I'd love to make the best out of it — by doing something fun.

Having said so, we actually did have fun and I am quite pleased with the result so far.
Right now before jumping on other classes' assignments (that seem to start piling up), I may just take some time to actually chill and enjoy my hot cocoa.
Besides, what screams winter better than a cup of cocoa filled with fluffy marshmallow?



On the other hand, quite a while ago I realised I forgot my old Formspring account's password which apparently has changed to this spring.me and so, I made this instead.
See you later alligators?

The unlikely settlement of brain and heart — hidden epilogue

So this got me somehow completely dumbfounded because never once in my life I thought I would get to this point.
But hey, wow, I actually do.

I never exactly count or know long has it been.
A year?
More than a year?
Years?
I'm not even sure.

All I know that it sure does take me quite some time to finally let the thoughts sunk in. 

If you give your everything to someone and it's still not enough, you're probably giving it to the wrong person.

So this is me bidding adieu,

Goodbye.

Twice

by Banksy.

They say you die twice.
First, a literal death, when your mortal being stop functioning.

Second, a figurative death.
Once the memories about you stop living through people,
either vanished altogether with them — which means, they're also dead,
or perhaps, simply forgotten.

Pas Volé, Mais Perdu

Paris 10th arr, few minutes past midnight. 

My friend and I finished our dinner after few glasses of fermented grapes, 
a cup of tea recommended by our overly friendly waiter, 
and 40 minutes spent waiting for our desserts, 
which I assume were made by order and not some ready-to-serve sweets. 

Everything about our meal was nice except my side dish.
Maybe pumpkin cream pie with orange zest just was not for me.

At the station, I bid her adieu and took a left turn to the aisle where metro line 4 is. 
Metro station performers are always interesting. 
My favourite ones are those groups of tiny orchestras that sell CD format of their performance and those accordion men who often (if not always) play french clichés such La Vie en Rose or La Valse d'Amelie.

But my soundtrack that night was a lady, singing Ave Maria with no instruments, stood beside piles of dull bags. 
The station wasn't crowded nor empty, but her high-pitched voice added a blend of eeriness, echoing through the walls as I kept walking. 

I saw those with tired faces, 
those cuddly lovebirds, 
those travellers who took inconvenient time just to get better ticket fares, 
or even those who were just on their way back home, observing people like I did.

I wished you were there to see what I was seeing & 
I wished you were there, 
literally and figuratively.

Because there are way too many things I'd like to share with you. 

From countless of trivial unimportant stuffs, 
to personal secret thoughts. 

That tender feeling of being connected through words,
like morse codes invented and used only by us.

Where did it go?
Stolen by reality?
Lost in between memories?

It's even harder for me, because I know you're not there,
and yet you're everywhere.

In photographs and in songs.
In books and in films.
In certain conversations and certain scent.
And every time I stumbled across all of those thing,
I was reminded of the agony that you're no longer there.

And as the metro stopped from one station to another,
I was getting more and more overwhelmed by the bitterness of all the possibilities we've lost — and all that we couldn't ever have.

You see,
missing you is not about how long has it been since the last time we saw each other.
It's about that very moment I found myself doing something and wishing that you were there, 

in my life.

So many songs, movies, books, discussions, laughters, inside jokes, secret thoughts and feelings I'd like us to share.

So many more memories I'd like us to create, 
and even so many future-tenses I would add to our life,

Because once, you made me feel as if we were made for each other.