SPACE AFTER THE COMMA

In the long run, between the nightfall and dawn—amongst those late calls and thousandth rendezvous— you eventually acknowledged precisely 

Her joke isn’t that silly

Her touch isn’t that soft

Her gaze isn’t that sassy

Her skin isn’t that subtle

Her voice isn’t that serene

Her curve isn’t that shaped

Her rendition isn’t that solid

Her scent isn’t that soothing

Her dictum isn’t that smart

Her thinking isn’t that sexy

Her stance isn’t that strong

Her embrace isn’t that scarce

Her reasoning isn’t that sharp

Her presence isn’t that seducing

Her diction isn’t that sophisticated

/Like mine/

I apologize,

For mad at you

For loving you less

For making you cry

For letting you down

For picking you second

For giving you no choices

For doubting your potential

For judging you superficially

For thinking you’re not enough

For believing you’re not worth it

For having all people except you

For listening to none of your stories

For asking no question about your well-being

For forgetting you have rights to be loved and listened

For needing more time to realized you’re beyond than a living thing

For once again forgetting that you’re the only one who can console me

For my dearest self  I do really sorry

                                                 both of us ;

                             [you’re] too naïve and [I am] too cliché

                                       to name one and another

                                             as friend or home

                                               to each other’s

                                              p o s s e s s i o n

You’ve always been afraid

over thing about

us; { you&i }

somehow

intertwined

in somewhat such

                              L

                             O

                             V

                             E

So often times

You refuse to settle down

yet still,

“You said  I am (too) complicated to be understood. The real thing is We both are full of complexities,  yours for you are just subconciously unnoticed. However, the real difference between us two, I am the only who (wanted to) understand everytime you don’t won’t understand (me)”

I was once blue…

Grey when you come

Pink when you care

Red when you insane

Yellow when you lie

Black&Blue when you leave

and Blue again when you’ve gone

As I am now Blue

Then, What color are you?

You are probably Green because now I don’t really care. And I remember how much you needed and craved for my ‘care’ but you’ve wasted it.

or,

You’re White like the color of your lie you keep saying each day that you’re going to be alright without me

Nevertheless, I was Blue before you came, so you don’t change anything about me if now I am Blue.

But I was the only one who made you feel so in the Pink and this what makes everything’s changed

By the way, if it’s not you then who’s going to color and turn me into Blue again?

and I don’t have to own my own reasons.

People write —vent the feeling inside diary, share everyday feeds with friends through social media, take note some brand-new ideas that come across on mind in sudden, leave sticky notes on the wall, work desk and door as reminders. Whatsoever is the platform we can’t shun the fact that we all write, although you type upon keyboard or onto your advance gadget’s screen, still, you write.

I have been writing since I was little, more than a decade ago, even long before that. When I wasn’t qualified to go to kindergarten, I have wrote many things on the wall without even understanding the meaning. All I did was copying the alphabet that I got from books, magazine and brochures.

Since then, writing has became my personal obsession. Everyday’s the only time I have to write. I couldn’t imagine if in a day I wasn’t allowed to write. Then, in 2006 I had my second world to put all of my words which called blog. I didn’t mind have no reader, my first aim was making my writings safely sent to virtual world so that it will last for a lifetime.

Unfortunately, nobody told me that my obsession in writing was good. Worse than that, ones ever uttered that my writing habit simply unhealthy, as I often forgotten to study, eat and do important things like homeworks and other extra works at home, the worst part of all, that ones also said every writing that I’ve made wasn’t ever good enough to get published not or for everyone to read.

I was sixth grader that time and I wasn’t mad, seriously not at all but believed it. Do you know? Somebody even possibly breaks one child’s biggest dream just by saying that kid possesses broken and ugly smile so she couldn’t be an actress, once she believed, she would remember it a whole life and you have successfully  ruined one universe’s potential actress. Yash, you can deny it but breaking children’s dreams is actually that easy.

(Value: be careful of what you’re going to say to kids, especially what they had belived about themselves in the future. You might screw tomorrow’s next presidents, diplomats, scientists, journalists, singers and also writers)

There upon, I stop writing on my blog. I used to forego my personal journal in which I had many promiscuous words written there. The idea of having a chance to be writer whose best-seller books not ever again crossed my mind. Nevertheless,  I realized something had amiss because I’ve missed what I loved the most, writing.

Many years passed, still I can say writing’s something I will always do wholeheartedly and it’s  undeniable, but at the same time,  I was scared to start. I frankly admit it took years for me to release this blogosphere. But I learned valuable lesson from many inspiring people whose lots of noteworthy achievements, most of them have personal site where stories of their life experiences and their own personal intellection had been written so intoxicating yet affecting every single reader. They may never occur what they had written can change a person, moreover, many people out there. But, the fact doesn’t say so. I probably was just one merely example.

Now It’s fairly explained why did Mr.Barack Obama very eager said on his speech “Don’t ever said that word doesn’t matter,  words matter!!”. Yes, I personally believe words can explain what pictures can’t tell. Writing is actually more than just words it’s a deed!

And, start from the now on

When I’m in doubt, I’ll write In every certainty, I’ll write . I’ll write when I’m sad or happy. If today I can write for myself, sure I can write for people tomorrow.

Keep writing because those who write are those who can make a change in a very simple way. Make you understand yourself  by expressing your feeling and thought through words Whatever it is just write away, let the vague inside you fades away, because writing makes you clarify the uncertainties within you. Write because you can and it’s only a little thing that may change whole thing.

p.s You don’t have to write, instead,  you need to do it. Even though you haven’t found your reason,  just put it aside. Let you discover the reason, while you keep writing.

Your favorite person who also writes,

G: It's not right

G: Which part that isn't right?

G: The whole thing

G: I asked which p-a-r-t ?

G: You love me!!

G: Is that bothering you?

G: Sure it is,

G: ...Or is it me who bothering you?!

G: No. It's just the feeling.

G: WHY?!

G: I desire for bizarre things, do you think I could be so vicious by letting you love me even more??

G: I have vigorous feeling for someone who loves peculiar things. Does it b-i-z-a-r-r-e enough for you to let me love you a little more?

G: I don't love you, that's the real problem in this part!

G: I don't ask you to love me and that's what really matters in every part!!

G: Please stop saying that! I just don't love you and I want you to know that.

G: We have been together for quite some times. I believe it only takes some more times for two people to love each other and it's inevitable. I know you love me, but it's just not in 'that' way.

G: If that was true, how can I love you? You don't interfere even a bit of my obsession— personal desire not or feeling nor love

G: You can simply love me as an ordinary human or as an unimportant part in the universe who still deserves to be loved. By the way..I'm leaving. As it's the only part of all your obsessions .....you always want me to play