Slip Away

Like these drops of water on the palm of my hands,
everyone is slipping away.
This wasn’t part of the plans,
much to my dismay.

The question is not “what happened?”,
but rather “why don’t they stay?”
Because now that it’s mentioned,
From me…I, too, would walk away.

I’m a tough wall with no ears,
I’m a soft ball with the tears.
And this further confirms my fears,
that I will be lonely in many years.

Maybe I am not good enough,
maybe I am undeserving.
Maybe I am rough,
maybe I am annoying.

If God is taking people away from me, maybe I never deserved them in the first place.
_____________________________
Maybe.

Slip Away

Thankful

The word “thankful” helps in every situations.
Good or bad.
There is always something to be thanked for.
For few people. And for some other people.

The good.
I’m thankful for the oddest chance to come across you.
I’m thankful for the opportunities to repetitively fix what has been damaged at times.
I’m thankful for the shared moments, spoken and unspoken.
I’m thankful for the patience that grew inside you to keep on dealing with me.
I’m thankful for the laughs and tears that we have shared.
I’m thankful for the things I have learned from you to improve myself.
I’m thankful that you were born.

The bad.
I’m thankful for the learning opportunity to cut toxic people like you off my life.
I’m thankful for the eye-opening chance to see who you truly are.
I’m thankful for the quick run, so I don’t have to heal for too long.
I’m thankful for the pain that I can recover from.
I’m thankful for the stupid things you say for my entertainment.
I’m thankful for the spot that you left for better people in my life.
I’m thankful that you left.

So thank you.
__________________________________
You know who you are, because I know.

Thankful

People

There are three kinds of people.
People who build a brick fort,
People who build a wooden cabin,
And people who build a glass building.

People who build a brick fort.

Strong and stern from the outside.
You think it will be cold and there will be nothing inside.
You need a special key to unlock the door,
Or they have to let you in.

But once you step in, it feels like home.
There is warmth.
There is love.
You feel safe and secured from the dangers outside the fort.

People who build a wooden cabin.

Solid, yet looks comfortable and homey.
There are small windows to peek inside.
There are front doors and back doors.
Sometimes, they share their keys with you if they want to let you in.

Once you step in, it feels familiar.
Everything is as you would expect from a wooden cabin.
There are little surprises here and there, like an early Christmas morning,
But no plot twists, no threats.

People who build a glass building.

Beautiful, open, and observable from the outside.
With exquisite and enticing display.
They lure you in with their openness.
Their sliding doors constantly opens and closes, easily giving you access in.

Once you step in, there are more doors, more displays, more mirrors.
You could only see reflections of yourself along with their display.
Like a store, as seasons change, the display changes.
You think you know them, but you don’t.

So…which one are you?

People

Mental Conversations

“Welcome to your first session. What has been bothering you lately?”

“Friends,”

“What about them?”

“I don’t know,”

“Do you have some?”

“Yes,”

“So why has it been bothering you?”

“Because I woke up after a long dream and realised that I know nothing,”

“Nothing?”

“What do I know? What do I not know?”

“And that has been bothering you?”

*shrugs* “I guess,”

“Have you talked it out?”

*shakes head* “I don’t know how,”

“How to…?”

“How to talk to them,”

“Well first, what would you like to know?”

“If our laughs were real,”

“Maybe they were real at that time,”

“I guess,”

“What else would you like to know?”

“Will we be able to laugh again in the future?”

“You will always be able to laugh with someone, anyone, even with another person, a better person,”

“I guess,”

“What is the last thing that you would like to know?”

“What do they speak of me when I’m not listening?”

____________________________________________
but the answer is only silence.

Mental Conversations

My Little Mademoiselle

Ma chérie,
my little mademoiselle.
Who flies like a fairy,
who leaps like a gazelle.

Soaring innocence, so pure.
boasting elegance, so mature.
Springing gently on your feet,
going up for the next suite.

Though now, she is a mademoiselle no more.
She is the majesty, the royal honour.

Forgive me, your honour, am I not worthy for your time?

You think that you are sitting on a gold throne,
but you are sitting on your tombstone.
Look at you, thinking that you’re surrounded by sandstones,
when those walls around you are made from bones.

You left your home for a castle,
but you are in a shambles.
In your world, you’re a royal highness,
but the real world knows you’re a royal mess.

You are the queen of your own world.

Oh honey, wake up and see.
You are no queen to me.
Hiding yourself in a castle for few,
no one really knows the real you.

Maybe that would be the best,
because the world will know you are truly messed.
Never an honest word,
do you think you will rule the world?

Let me rip that sweet veneer,
I know who you are, my dear.
Even if you say everyone is your family,
oh we know that’s a blasphemy.

You blame the world for its error,
when it’s clearly reflected in your mirror.

___________________________________________
Once you go there was never, never an honest word.

My Little Mademoiselle

It’s Okay

No one has a straight path to walk on,
obstacles and turns come in your way,
until you have no more strength to carry on,
believe that you are already on the right way,

Right now other paths may seem brighter,
but other paths may not be better,
so don’t let anyone else’s path become a bother,
because they don’t shine as bright as the light at the end of your path.

People talk crap, people misunderstand,
and envious stares from the other paths that don’t see your fight.
Believe me, they wouldn’t know what is right,
don’t fall into their trap, they just won’t understand.

Even if you break down and take a step backward,
it’s okay.
Know that your fight will never betray you.

________________________________
Because those with the most obstacles in their path get the most happiness in return.

It’s Okay

My World

I’m facing the world of my own reality.
The world with my fears, joys, and fantasy.
You are the only one I see.
I wanted you to come with me.

But you see,
In the present reality,
We are really,
Like fire and wind.

You are my fire,
lights up my heart and warms up my soul.
I’m the wind,
floating around and flying free.

When the wind blows gently, it can put out the small fire.
But the wind can also make the fire bigger.
But with just the right amount of pressure,
we should be able to work together.

But the wind cannot stop moving to dock,
because I have nothing to hold on my fingers.
I wish you were here so we could stop the clock,
because the time is slipping off my fingers.

When did our discussions turn into arguments?
When did our playful teases turn into scars?
When did our pleasure turn into torment?
When did our love got lost in between the stars?

I’m floating endlessly in the air, wondering,
what happened to us, darling?

In that small gift box are all the memories of us,
so sometimes I can sit down and cherish us.
It’s okay, I’m walking slowly now,
But I won’t erase you, that’s my vow.
___________________________________
My world is mine and is only through my eyes.

My World

The Dreams Saga #1: Dangerous Boyfriend

With this post, I’m announcing a new section to this blog, which is called “The Dreams Saga” because, well it’s pretty self-explanatory, but my dreams are truly too epic beyond proportions most of the time. Unlike people who mostly forget their dreams, I can remember my most epic dreams for quite a long time. Long enough to let me sit down and write it down in this blog.

This dream I just had last night involved some of my high school friends, let’s call them Y and T (does NOT stand for YouTube). So I was attending this jazz festival in Jakarta (which I would totally never attend…like ever…just because I’m not into those jazz festivals). Another weird thing was that I went there by myself. The festival was an outdoor one, and there were those tents to cover you from the sun and rain with lines of elevating seats (?). Since I was going alone, I didn’t bother getting a fantastic seating spot and just settled for the less crowded spot at the back.

I climbed up the stairs to get to the seats and I just sat there, looking at the swarming crowd trying to get the nice spot closer to the stage. Then I looked to the seat on the far left in the line, there was a baby. A freaking crying baby. The baby was roughly 6 months old? I don’t know, but the baby was lying on the seat, alone. I was surprised because I saw no adults near the baby. I felt pretty disturbed (and scared) with the baby crying, so I went over to the seat and tried to calm down the baby.

If anyone of you really know me, I’m terrible with kids and babies. Apparently even in my dreams, I was still terrible with babies, and the baby just couldn’t calm down at all. I held the baby in my arms and kept trying to calm her/him down. Then this guy, who was probably a few years older than me, came to me and said that it was his baby. For the record, he looked way too young to have a baby.

As terrible as I was with a baby, I knew enough not to trust him and handle the baby because he looked kind of out of place. He was wearing a thick black trench coat over his shirt, I mean come on, if this was Jakarta, you would be dead from the heat already. I refused to give the baby to him and stood up to walk away. As I was walking away, I looked back and noticed he didn’t try to chase after me, which was great. I walked down the stairs and I met my friend, Y, who looked really surprised as I was holding a baby. She thought the baby was mine, and I told her it wasn’t, I just happened to find the baby alone. Even she thought that was really weird.

Somehow we ended up sitting next to each other and talking about random things because we haven’t seen each other in a long time. After quite sometime, the previous man came to us again and asked me for the baby, who had finally calmed down and stopped crying. Y thought he was the real father of the baby, so she looked at me and was about to grab the baby from my arm to give to him. I held the baby back and told her that I won’t give him the baby. All of a sudden, this guy took A FREAKING SWORD from behind his coat and we just ran that instant.

Y and I were running together trying to find a safe place (completely forgetting about the jazz festival lol) to hide from him. We were running around the arena, but we lost him so we thought we were safe. Then we met our other friend, T. Just like Y, T teased me because she thought that the baby I was holding was mine. After explaining the whole situation to her, she finally grasped the situation Y and I were in and we agreed to stick together.

While walking around, we were talking about things and T mentioned that she actually went with her boyfriend to the festival but he was going somewhere else for the time being. Then a guy called her name and T excitedly said, “That’s my boyfriend, guys!” and when Y and I turned around, we were horrified to see that her boyfriend was the guy who was chasing us previously. Y and I immediately ran away and sometime in the middle of our escape mission where we were trying to fit in the crowd to get away, THE BABY DISAPPEARED FROM MY HANDS.

The insane guy stood there in front of us with the baby magically in his hands, and he took off his face mask and suddenly he turned into an old grandpa with white, messy beard, and he raised his sword while Y and I were panicking and screaming and trying to get away, only to find out that our dear friend T was caught in this guy’s hypnosis and strangled us and I woke up.

 

MORAL OF THE STORY: PLEASE ALWAYS DO A BACKGROUND CHECK ON YOUR BOYFRIEND BEFORE HE GOES OUT AND KILLS YOUR FRIENDS. LOL

 

Freud’s Possible Interpretation (FPI): the baby represents something that is not mine but is precious to me and the guy. I wonder what it is…

The Dreams Saga #1: Dangerous Boyfriend

Being Women

Gentle, elegant, graceful.
Long, soft brown mane, fluttered by the breath of nature.
Milky skin brighter than pearls.
A white carnation peeking out on top of her left ear.

Long, ivory dress she wears.
Gliding lightly on a garden of flowers.
Soft, pink tints creep up her cheeks.
And an earnest smile escapes her lips.

She’s a princess all princes want to make a queen of.
She’s everyone’s dreams come true.
She’s a definition of beauty.

Everyone takes a pleasure from just a glimpse of her presence.
Everyone wants to be her, or to be hers.
Everyone starts to feel jealous.
Every time she walks past, every man drools.

She takes my hand,
People turn their heads towards me,
And they snicker.

I take a look at myself.
Short, messy red hair.
Tanned olive skin.
Even nature refuses to enhance my description.

Spectacles framing my face.
Boyish shirt and pants.
Honest, strong, reckless.
Even if we run on the same garden of flowers, we are not the same.

People look at me like I’m her handmaiden.
That elegant girl is my best friend.
My boyish self is her best friend.
But still, people look at me like I’m her handmaiden.

Even if we have the same abilities, we are not the same.

We are both grown women, but we are not the same.

Because she’s the universal definition of beauty,
and I’m just me.

Being Women