very personal.

you feel whole, and you feel empty when he is around. you’ve never felt like this before. before, it was all stable and normal. as if you know truly what those words really meant.

he just said he wanted to call so i need to wait for him that i realized it’s few hours left before i turn 23. i forgot. i always wanna grow old enough to the extend i forget my birthday. they say you can’t always be the age you are now and that you should appreciate and treasure and celebrate it but i’m different. it’s a burden. why do people stated birthday as something we should remember? it’s not like you can’t give presents on usual days. i want this to go away; feelings. unwanted feelings of feeling unwanted. that even makes sense? i’ve tried and it’s never enough. i’ve cried and it’s never gonna dry. i’m in pain but it’s never gonna cure. save me for a day, at least. on my brithday or any other day. because i need to escape away. i have to. i need to not be found.

i recently got a lot of questions about happiness. what is happiness? where can you find happiness? it’s just the same as questioning what is life. once, i got myself thinking: what i really want in my life? 8 million dollars? be a successful woman with a luxurious mansion and a 6 million car? or even own the world? i want happiness. life has been a same flow with everybody: born, schools, degree, job, marry, die. or some may rearrange that like they want it to be or add something up like travelling and quit job but one will never change the god’s order of live and born. and so i thought, what is life without happiness anyway? the only different everyone experience’s happiness. those little things. and i figured, i need to find my kind of everyday happiness. it doesn’t have to always be someone or things. it simply is mean by put myself up to thinking every morning i will find my happiness in my own way. everyday, differently. i’m determined. i’m positive. i will success.

i woke up too early this morning with a heavy head that refused to stay unconcious. it’s the kind of morning where you are too far away and i’m clinched at the call button cursing ‘please pick up the call’ and stammering voices. and you didn’t pick up. it’s too early to miss the leaves that fall rhythmically at the sounds of the wind, i thought. it’s the morning chills that always reminds me of how your curly hair felt full in my hands and your lips shaken when i touch it with my fingertip. from the window sill, the sun warmly greets me between the morning glory petals my mom had 2 months ago. i hope and hope for today to run smoothly and at the end of the day, we’ll come to our own embracement.

we sat at the table where we used to sit. you and i, were different back then. i’m still in love with the same meal i had 2 years ago and i’m glad it hasn’t change a bit. the iced coffee still taste the same like when i first sipped it. and we talked about how memories we created, had us refuse to move on but we managed. i love the air we breathe in during twilight, where the road is quite busy with the vehicles rushing to where they are suppose to be. i always say that i’m gonna miss this place, and it will never tire me from saying it over again. the people, the memories, the happiness i once felt. remembering memories is what makes us happy even for awhile and it’s okay. it’s okay that we’re seperated all over different cities. it’s okay that we taste different food at different time and breathe in different air but stare at the same sky because memories are here living beneath us. we’ve made these memories, we’ve gone through years. and you will always be here on the road i pace, the stars i gaze at night, and the morning coffee i sip while looking down below the neighbourhood at the fifth-floor’s corridor.

let them talk and talk and talk let them say what they want we will laugh at the thought they don’t know what we’ve got every year that goes by, a year older we are you’ll still be beautiful then, bless your beautiful heart. they’ll talk and talk and talk how crazy is it? someone could waste their whole life, helplessly, just patiently waiting for a love like you and me.

busy life, busy life sucks

i have sucked so many nights into days and days into nights. a few hours ago, you were the sunlight between my fingers. my hand squeezed into a fist but your warmness was still there. i forced my fingers closer but you got yourself through the gaps. a few hours ago, we talked like we knew exactly what we mouthed about. a few hours ago, your voice was more beautiful than the words uttered. a few hours ago... but right now, you're barely here. you aren't breathing near. i'm thinking of your face, and i know exactly i'm choking a lump of air contains fear. fear of things i'm not sure what but honey please, grow me wild inside your head so then i'll learn, worrying is worth awhile.

sometimes, crying is preposterous. my history of crying had always made me realized how fool i was. i cried once because i couldn't think of things i wanna write although i've tried so much. i cried because i realized i can't write as good as how i was once. i cried because someone else's writing was better than mine and that i blamed myself i didn't read enough, or i read irrelevant texts and novels i couldn't be anymore awesome. i know, how can someone be so cute she keeps crying her eyes out when she tries so hard not to think ridiculously?