The workdesk.

Hari ini, saya langitkan semua do'a terbaik saya untuk kamu.

Semoga hal-hal yang membuat kamu runtuh turut menjadi alasan kamu untuk tumbuh.

Semoga dunia senantiasa menjaga kamu dimanapun kamu berada. semoga hari-hari kamu selalu diiringi cinta yang tidak pernah ada batasnya.

After such a long time, I do miss how to write something again. 

The expression 'long time no see' is an invariable nonce construction.

I’ve been waiting so long.

I thought the end of the paragraph was the end of the adventure.

The pen went dry and our kind words died with it, so much I wanted to write down, but I didn’t have the strength.

Intrigued by the glimmer in your eyes and the way your bones seemed to be pages full of stories.

How I would have loved to read them, explore the meaning of words with my wildfire touch. and if stories are what our lives are, live is to dance to the narrator’s tune.

But if the narrator’s narration does not make sense, the actors cope thru a different lens. It’s true right?

We are young, but much older. We are loved, though only by a few of us. We remain restless. We try to convince ourselves that we are strong, but we shiver clothesless. We know what is wrong, but we do it anyway.

But It’s fine. you made mistakes, and you are part of the mistakes.

Time flitters like a bird in the sky, watch it goes by and fade away.

I think it’s an epilogue.

Loosely conscious, letting thoughts dance around my eyes. an experience I care not to live. a numbness, I delve into it. realizing I past that point. I stop and awake.

Red flares and moon-flowers blooming under the moonlight, adding more grace to this beautiful night. There are just sounds of heartbeats, deep breaths and whispers.

I've been sleeping in odd places. I get little sleep because my insomnia keeps saying ridiculous. 

The world tells me I care too much about the answers. 

Maybe, I’m still there. or maybe I’m not.

I used to say time stops when you’re around and this moment doesn't seem to end. now, the clock on the wall will continue to tick, and our hearts will continue to beat.

I think I’ve lived long enough to know that every ‘quote’ has it’s own paradox. Because quite honestly if you follow one, you’ll reach some sort of deadlock.  Because what even is ‘abscence makes the heart grow fonder’. It’s a silly phrase someone wrote, when they couldn’t hold their loved ones any longer, or how bout that other one. where you should place your heart on fate and destiny. 

Let that person go if you love them, oh but side effect is that the pain will sink in quite dreadfully.

That’s not love.

Love isn’t made of quotes and concepts. It’s not a Hollywood rom-com, it’s an on going prospect.

It’s growing together and making mistakes. sharing your ideas, sharing mixtapes. It’s laughing in unison at your own jokes, and blasting slayer after I put on the strokes.

It’s crying on a shoulder you can put your trust on, It’s a 3am phone call when no one else can be relied upon. It’s entangling two minds and creating a bond. It’s the sick worried feeling when the other doesn’t respond. It’s a heck of a tolerance and understanding and loving the soul, because looks aren’t everlasting. It’s a million other things that no one ever taught you.

You learn yourself because it’s different every time you go through. that feeling when you catch a glimpse of them starring back.

The you, you once knew, stopped seeing in white and black, there’s pink, and blue a different name for a different hue, torquoise, crimson, amber. 

It’s us, It’s me, It’s you. 

But fuck it if they talk.

Fuck it if they try and get to us.

'Cause I'd rather go blind.

Than let you down.

It is autumn.

Each sunset leans farther southward. autumn wind whispers a name as the color of the leaves changes to flame. earthly green to feverish red. been long since that paled sunny sky, autumn winds are drifting by.

Autumn leaves in orange piles, huddling for warmth by the garden walls. the cold that climbs your spine, as you walk through the night, beautiful and alone. fallen leaves sleep on a lake, sealed with a long forgotten tale. the heady wind that doesn't let the trees to sleep rules the desolate vale.

Summer has passed and winter is yet to come but for now the world is a colorful mess. when the sun has set and the day is done. I just remember this feeling, the spiral of warmth in the cold flowing through my hair.

She sang the song of winter, my cheeks turned red like autumn leaves, my mind warmed up like summer and my eyes bloomed like spring.

The autumn leaves are here to stay but autumn herself leaves.