"We can love completely even without complete understanding"

Today I woke up with a sad heart. Again. I miss him terribly. I couldn't understand why this healing is taking so long and even after I decided to leave, I still feel a sense of loyalty that made me feel I'm in the in-between. I prayed, I meditate, I socialised, I feel. But still, some mornings and days are good, some mornings I woke up only to find the pang and hollowness back on my centre. But maybe this is what it should feel like when you let go someone who you thought (and still think) is the love of your life. Because I once said that, "If at the end of it this would end, I'm okay with it; you're worth the pain." To have felt a love as pure and as good as we had in the beginning was definitely worth this pain, I just didn't think that this day would ever come. 

I just didn't think that somewhere along the way we would also hurt each other in a way that we did. You told me that I was holding a grudge, when that was exactly what I think you were doing. I hurt you after a month I left you the first time. You said you forgiven me. But I think you were just waiting for the right time to hurt me the way that I hurt you, if not more. You waited and made sure so that it looks like it wasn't your intention to do so because it wasn't you who initiated anything. So you can also convince yourself that is not something you were doing. 

But now although I still couldn't trust you and I'm not sure I should or ever will, I have forgiven you and I never did stop loving you. 

For the boy who regrets

You are not a villain in my story. I have met many villains, but you are not one of them.

I've seen the good in you, and it only natural that there are bad in you, too. I still think you're lovely, just not as magical as I thought you were the first time I met you. A subjective view is all I have, but it helped me to fully forgiven you.

You're just a boy who takes things for granted and somehow manage to learn from his tiny mistakes, but not the big ones that define his life. You're just a boy who takes things for granted and keeps forgetting the lessons he learned and to fully appreciate what you have. You're a boy who regrets; that is why you keep dragging the past with you, causing havoc in the present moment. You drag a love that ends awhile ago, breaking a bond of trust and love in your present moment. Only to wonder why things don't work—self-sabotage. I think the reason why distrust people who are good, especially one that is too good to be true, is because you know its a lie; you were too good to be true for me, then your true self started to show itself. I loved you through the disgraceful phase of you, because I like you because of the good things but I love you despite of the not so good things. But I didn't stop trusting you because one big event that happen, it was because of the tiny events that piles up that hurts and made me stop trusting you. You're a lovely, yet silly boy. Maybe this is how you feel about me, too, and that is okay; you regretted the setbacks in your career and forgot about the things you did and achieve in those time. You forgot too, that sometimes, some things can be two things instead of just one. You used to carry the shadow of your regrets and stops you from living, but at least you're learning that pain and setbacks can—if not meant to—be used and turned into strength to create something better now. You carry this sorrow of... what is it? Is it from the validation that you never got? Love you never got? The pride you never got? either way, the whatever it is that you never get a long time ago from the people that meant to give you all of those. You carry it around, waiting, thinking that someday or by doing certain things they will be capable of patching up the hole in you. You may think you've accepted it all, but certainly, there still things you're unable to accept: things like accepting the fact that they may never give you what you want and/or need in order to be whole. That's your responsibility now, but you sometimes forgets that. Or maybe you don't. But you can't get mad at someone for waving your past on you when you carry them around and round. Even when that person says "enough is enough," but you never listen so now you have to listen to the things you never listen to in the past. But hey, at the end of it, I guess you still decide its not worth listening to; I tend to have more conversation with you in my head than with the actual you which is why all of this is just a subjective view and opinion. Agree to disagree.

At the end of the day, you don't have to listen to what I have to say or these subjective opinion of mine. I know from experience that forging and having your own values, beliefs and conviction is better for ourselves. We can listen and learn from the people around us, even our parents, but what they think is best may not be the best for you and what they think is bad may turned into the best thing you ever did or have. If you never forge your identity outside of what other people think of you or out of your family, you may become hesitant in life. So, of course as always, you hold all the options. Just as I do; I am no longer waiting for the other shoe to drop because you (and maybe, I) have dropped it awhile ago and I can't change it. But all these words and actions and struggles are only here to help me accept what was done, so I can let it go and stop fighting the tide of change; maybe even let go of you.

Someone said that some people say goodbye in one big moment, while others say goodbye in phases. I guess this is me saying goodbye in phases. Because at the end of the day, this change and transformation that happens to us is necessary. There is always the need to let go of the things that no longer serve us. At the end of the day, I'm just a girl who have an endless questions in her head; a girl who tries to understand the pain that you feel that ended up causing pain to others; a girl who tries to change for the better, to change every aspects of her life for the better. While you're just a lovely, silly boy who regrets and slowly seeing and knowing, and hopefully transforming for the better.

Growth is better than being stagnant because even though you're not as magical as I thought when I found you, I still think you have magic in you. If only you can stop carrying the shadows of your past with you everywhere, maybe then you can see and feel it, too. Because being mindful is necessary and a part of growth. Light is the only way through, always.

At the end of the day, my words always meant to lift you up even when it hurts as long as its true.
At the end of the day, I still write about you and that is saying something more than words can say.

What is worth it does not come easy, it is also messy. But everything that is beautiful can be beautiful again, only if we stop resisting and let it.

If you want a good fortune, what do you do? You work hard, right? You work and work and work. At some point, you might be losing faith in the potentials of your future, so you pray. A lot of the time, if you want to get far, you're more likely to work with somebody and pray together or on your own. Without you realising, today might be that someday. But if you just half-heartedly work for it alone, or let the other person in your team do most of the work while you take a break in the here and there, or mess up the work only then to pray. Today just becomes another day that someday never come. Then you blame someone for it or say to the universe, "oh, I guess its just not meant to be". That's not how it works. You have to consciously choose for your life; be the dreamer and the doer in your life.

As I was writing this, I realised that as always I am also writing this for myself. As always, I'm writing in order to untangled the yarn of my thoughts in order to heal. Becomes my own mind and my own perspective can be my own worse enemy sometimes. Hence why lately I have been reacting to every emotions and states that passes and stays with me. Whether it be love, fear, anger or shame or confusion. There is a suppressed part of me that needs healing, but by reacting to my own fear of the dark and wanting to say on the side of light, I ended up digging my own self further. So, I stayed. I healed the parts of me that I used to fear to heal. To let go of the anger that anchors me and helped me survive. Instead, embracing the opposites of anger and fear, to finally live. 

Because how can you receive love and connections, but whenever you bid it, you turn yourself away or against it? I'm not saying you have to trust somebody completely with everything, at least not until they earn it because before that that is not love, that is just stupid. But you cannot show only one part of yourself to someone and not give them a chance to see the whole of you, simply because you do not trust that someone will accept it. Simply because you are afraid of rejection. This is a betrayal of self and of others.

Two questions comes to mind: are our boundaries built from love or fear? Are we putting up boundaries or walls? There is an article that I read that said, "boundaries are made from self-love; anchored in self-worth. They stand firm in the knowledge and conviction of how you will tolerate being treated and what you are willing to do. They define the compromises that you will or will not make. Walls are made from fear. Fear of being hurt or seen. Fear is why we chose to keep the walls, love is the way we bring them down." With boundaries, we learn that it is okay to say "no". But with walls, comes the other part of the important lesson: that sometimes we can find that person or arrived at that someday where it is okay to say yes. Yes to a life you never thought about but want. Yes to a love that you want and possibly need. Yes to yourself and to parts of your self that needs acknowledgement in order for the love and compassion for self to grow; in order for yourself to grow. A lot of the time strength actually comes from the ability to become soft when your body and mind tells you to be hard. If you're bidding for love, you cannot bid without vulnerability; you only ended up bidding with ego and that is a selfish love. Walls protects your heart and brain by resisting to what you yearn for, but you owe it to yourself to take the walls down so you can say yes. Life is waiting not within the prison you build, but the other side of it. This is how we become conscious in building a life we want: by letting go of the dysfunction, of what does not serve us anymore, for something that is better, that will and willing to be better. So, ask yourself this, what happened if you do let go and tear your walls down? But instead of finding hurt, you found love? Would you be courageous enough to find out?

Your story matter. Your story is worth to be heard. Especially by yourself. Act out of love for yourself to know when to say, "yes, it is and you are the person/today is the day that lucky enough to be chosen by me. You are worth it, and today I chose that my story is worth to be heard by you; I trust you with my story. I chose I am worth it that I will consciously build my life, not out of fear but despite of it."

I'm learning to not let the past define who I am anymore. I am learning to not become the victim of my past, or anybody else's. I am taking the first step by choosing to want to have the courage I need to do the work. I don't know how long it would take me to get to other side, all I know is that I will. I am learning to not resist what will arrive and comes for me, but I am learning to become resilient; the strength that will be needed if what I want is not what I need nor what is meant to be but chose to accept it. Learning to draw strength from a softer places in me to be able to accept love that comes from within and outside of me. Learning to draw strength from every parts of me to build a life I deserve, even in times when I don't think I deserve it—especially then. I have learned to be responsible, now comes the time to learn to be accountable.

–C.L.

Authentic self, how deep would I go?

To love someone and to have that same someone loves you back is the greatest feelings in the world. But along the way, somebody out of the two or both out of the love forgets to treat each other right. We test each other not to see if they would do the right thing, but instead, we test their boundaries and how much they would tolerate if we cross it. We chose to jeopardise the love that was so great and beautiful, for having access to a past love that should have stayed in the past a long time ago.

When you hurt somebody, no matter how long ago you inflicted those pain to them, you don't get to tell them to just "get over it". You can't just say to them, "yes, I admitted to you that I wronged you. I let you humiliate me in front of everyone. But I'm getting sick of you whining about the pain I've caused you, so what if you're still bleeding? I will make you feel that you have to apologise for the pain that I caused you. Because this is long enough." You don't get to say that. In that person's life, for that story and for that pain, you are the villain in their life. It is like breaking a glass then taking a long time to clean it up and doesn't put up signs saying, "watch out for broken glass," then when somebody stepped on it you yelled at them even though they are the one in pain and bleeding. Both person are in pain; one from the guilt of inflicting the pain on the other, one from bleeding because of the pain inflicted on them.

You have no business in dictating how long a person heals from a pain you inflicted. They're not holding grudges because if they do, they will try and inflict the same thing to you. If they do no such thing, then it is not. But then again, we cannot dictate how other people's feels. Both people become the victim of each other's pain and sins. What do yo do in those situation but remove yourself? What else would be the logical thing to heal a relationships between two hearts that is caught up in their own pain and self?

At the end of the day, you cannot control how people feel and think about you. Just like I cannot control in how people would react to a story that I wrote. I can only control in what I wrote, who I wrote, where I wrote it and where I chose to have it. That is a lot of control to have. But the rest is out of my control. However, a voice can only be muted down if we let it. I can only write how a story are or how a person are from my frame of reference. If how I see a story or a person is not how you see it, we can only agree to disagree. If you want me to see you differently, then act and do things differently. It is not my fault that if from my frame of reference you fail to live up to your authentic self.

There is a saying that I often say to others, "what you see is what you get." Because privacy also means transparency. If your privacy harm someone else, that is secrecy. I get to have privacy because I am transparent in who I am; authentic in who I am. My reality becomes the standard you use to predict my potentials. Because if my reality is not as good as my potential, how can you be sure to invest yourself in me? But, I would also tell you that you have the option to not invest in me because I'm not going to invest back in you. This transparency is what allows me to have privacy in life. Because whether it is out of arrogance or not, I have a say and the rights to have a say in who I let into my life and whom I chose to keep. You have to earn a certain rights to reach a certain level of my life. This transparency allows me to invest in you, support you and gamble everything of my life. But this transparency helped me learn my worth and to walk away gracefully from something that does not willing to do the same.

-C.L.

IT'S TAKING EVERYTHING I HAVE TO STOP MYSELF

Trigger Warning: this post discusses mental illness (in general), suicides, and self-harm. 

It might be the lack of sleep that triggers it. It might be the book that I'm currently reading. It might be that I have been cooped up in my room all weekend (even though it's only 1pm). But whatever it is, I know that I have just been sitting and standing around over the edge, kinda expecting this to happen at some point. 

What I know is that I'm not feeling that great and I'm not just saying its one of those moods that always comes and goes, this is different. This only happened a few times, even on those dark days back then. 

This heaviness on my chest is getting a bit too much and I don't know anymore how to make it go away. I know I'm still functioning and all. I know I can still study, I still enjoy reading, personal hygiene and food is still important for me, so yes, I'm basically still functioning and all despite what's been on my mind. 

Some days I just think to myself that I want it all to stop, to end it. But to end what? Do I want University to be over? Do I want this semester to be over? Do I want this heaviness and pain to end? Do I want all the hate in the world to be erased? Or all of the above and I just want it all to end, so might as well end it? 

It is the impurest thoughts out of all: to end your life. More than thinking about sex. More than thinking about conning someone. 

At least it is in my book. 

But the worst things isn't knowing that I wouldn't do it, but knowing that those thoughts creates an urge in me. A great, strong urges, to cut. 

Look, I'm not trying to be emo here. I just don't feel like I could go to anyone about this. They will just try to make me feel better so that they could feel better. They will just have this look on their face that kind of says, "seriously?" or "what the fuck? Stop being so bloody emo." They just wouldn't really understand. But most of all, even if they could understand, I have too many shits that I don't even understand myself and for the life of me wish could be fixed, yet telling them all of these just wouldn't change a single thing. Just sort of stalling the inevitable. So, I guess after all this time, it's the reason why I'm back here, writing it all down again.

Getting tired of talking. Getting tired thinking in poetry and prose. We're back to basics. Fun. 

But do you know what's frustrating about all this? It's no longer different moments. These moments of dark thoughts are no longer happening on different time when I'm "functioning". So I'm basically just fucking basics just like everyone else. I'm a fucking functioning, suicidal (-ish), self-harming, whatever else label I should put in there to describe myself. So, I can't tell anymore when I'm actually doing okay or when I'm having "one of those days". Because I can be okay one moment, and I kid you not, the second after, all these intrusive thoughts just barge in and I'm just there. Helpless. Confused. 

With all the issues I'm having with myself, I mean, the identity crisis alone is honestly taking so much of my energy. I honestly can't handle all of these intrusive thoughts/urges. I'm also tired of asking for help if once again, I don't get any answers, let alone get rid of all these inside. 

So, yes. It's taking everything I have to stop myself from hurting myself. I mean, I have enough scars already and it just doesn't look pretty, okay? Yes, yes. Of course I care about my appearance. Geez. And I really don't want to see the look on those I love. The look that says sigh in a look form. The look that says, "why didn't you come to me? I could've helped. I am so sorry. And you should feel sorry too." Who else is tired of that look, because I am. But I love them for it because it means they still care. I just can't really bring myself to talk to them. I just don't want to listen to the sound of their voice that says they think I'm just looking for attention, but thought against saying those out loud. 

This inadequacy is getting a bit much. I'm going back to my book. Thanks for reading, if anyone is still (if ever) reading this. 

If you're triggered by this post, I suggest you seek help, which is probably something I should do. Like soon. I'll try. Promise. 

— It's taking everything I have to stop myself. It's taking everything I have to help myself. 

Yours truly. x

WRECKING HAVOC, INSIDE AND OUT.

"I understand being tired sih tapi sometimes I wonder kenapa you always feel like shit cause truthfully, you're way better than most of the people I've met and that's definitely nothing to be insecure about. I mean you've gone trough a lot but you've survived!!!! and that basically justifies your worth. if only you can see how great you are." –S.K.T.

A best friend of mine said that to me maybe three years ago or so and I probably already wrote her words in some other post or writings. But that only proves how her words still lift me up, more than anyone else's could, until this day. We don't talk as much anymore, but as I am embarking on a journey and embracing my life as an undergrad student, she's graduating soon and am sure she will do an even better, greater things afterwards because she already is; because in ways I hope she knows, she inspired me and her drive encourages me to never give up and always working hard towards all the things I want in life. That I should always work hard for everything, not taking it all for granted.

The last one week or so my emotional state was in many ways unstable. Once again it fluctuates between the extremes. The reason why I'm writing this is because, although it is harder to write it this way, but it is easier to understand. But that is all I can hope for: easier to be understood. Because I spend my life feeling misunderstood, abandoned, forgotten, and as if all these words I had in me is simply a thing to be ignored. As if every time a word came out of my mouth, what happened is it became a white noise, as if I speak in a different frequency than all of these people; as if I don't speak clear enough, or loud enough for these people to hear me, that is why, with a confused look on their faces, they don't say a word before they turn their backs on me. Or sometimes, they have this look on their faces that say they simply don't care of what I just said.

As much as I try to control it, it never happens the way I want it. But when everything else around me is falling apart, I would like to have something that can give me a sense of control. That is why I plan. Plan and plan and plan. Then when everything around me feels like it's standing still, while I'm the one that is falling apart, I write and read and write and read. I tell the pages of my books the things I don't say out loud; the things that are hard to say; the things that make people feel uncomfortable; the things that people don't understand. I tell the pages of my books the things I don't understand and know how to explain and make someone understand. I tell the pages of my books the things I wish can be understood, easily, but in reality, not. All these pages and books, rescue me from my own self. They guide me to where I needed to go. They cheer me up and cheer me on. They gave me a home when a home doesn't even feel like home.

So I put my pen down for awhile and taking a momentary break from writing what is harder to be said in poetry, and coming back to a familiar place to write.

As was said, the last one week or so my emotional state fluctuates and was is very much unstable. This last one year, I really thought I have manage my mood better but this period of fluctuation didn't come in waves like it usually do, but it comes in like a storm—unannounced, wrecking havoc from within. Uninvited bleak, and obtrusive feelings and thoughts flooded in. I woke up every day for the last seven days feeling worthless, a failure, dumb, untalented, incompetent, and the unfortunate familiar thoughts of simply feeling not enough. I walked around feeling like nobody wants me—as their friend, as their girlfriend, as their anyone—and how they probably think I'm a horrible person while also thinking of how they, and myself, are sabotaging my life—i.e. paranoid.

I want to be me; unapologetically be me. But in times when your mind could not even be trusted, it is easier to listen to the cruel voice inside. In moments of clarity, I apologized to myself for listening to them; for not trying hard enough to come out of the storms unwounded; for making the wound deeper. Because the worse the episode, and the deeper the wound, the more I grew silent about it. The worse it gets, the more I want to keep it to myself because it is easier to unapologetically be me when you're not forced to be anybody else; when no one asks you to be anybody else—in a way that doesn't make them feel any discomfort, or makes yourself feel like a burden to them more than you already are especially by telling them your sad and pathetic story. Also, it is easier to keep it all to yourself because then you don't have to have all these expectations of them understanding you and all these expectations that maybe, just maybe, that you will get better. To be fair, while it didn't always last, I did get better even if for a little while.

All my life I have learned to suffer in silence, it's the only way I know how. I have this habit of mine that is in some unseen ways destructive—instead of saying things out loud, I stay quiet. The more complicated it is, the harder it is to be said, the more I keep it to myself. As sometimes our thoughts imprison us from doing whatever it is we wanted to do, from saying the thing that is not should left unsaid, and the worst part is, sometimes from letting us grow or simply keeping us away from happiness and closer to sorrow. Then, someone asked me of what I want from them and today he asked what he can do to make things better. Instead of answering it, I grew silent. I have all these things in my head, all these words, and all these sentences. But I cannot have what I want. He cannot give me what I want that would probably make things better which is for everything to never happen in the first place, because it already did and time travel isn't really possible so that's that, why bother to even say it. So he decided to leave and I wasn't surprised by his action. Just like having the expectation that he will understand after all the poetry that I wrote (but didn't); the expectation that he will never make me feel like shit on my own birthday (but did); the expectation that he will never hurt me in ways I wish he didn't (but did); leaving was the thing that was expected, staying this long was on my desired list but it wasn't on the expectation list.

My friend once was so perplexed by my coldness and cynical way of seeing love, she (or he, I couldn't remember who said it, to be perfectly frank with you) said to me, "I don't know what's wrong with you. I don't know how you can be so cold because I know you want to feel something. But why do you build up a wall so high no one can climb it? Why do you push people away? It's like you exile everyone before they can even knock on your door. Why?" to this very day I still have no idea how to answer that in a short way because I'm not even sure I can even explain it with the long version. Can anyone explain it to me why? Why do I push people away? Why is it that I would rather choose to not give a fuck than feeling it all? Why is it that I would rather choose to not talk about things that I know needed to be talked about and dismiss it as if it's not important enough for me anymore when it still is? Tell me. I would like to know the answer to the things I don't even know and too tired to listen to what myself have to say about because it hurts too much already. That is also why I don't mind writing for myself. I don't mind writing myself a love letter because no one can reach the deepest part of my darkest thoughts, except me and I think that is okay. So maybe I should stop writing, not completely. I will still write but I will simply stop writing about you and for you. Maybe then you don't have to understand—or tries to–what goes on inside this head of mine. Maybe the best way to love you is to release you from all these expectations and all these burden. Maybe the best way to understand you is grew silent about my pain and scars. And you know, you expect people to disappoint you, but then what if you one day wake up and realised that you are the disappointment? So maybe, being me—carrying all the unwanted package—isn't the best way to approach this, maybe the best way to be the best for you is to not be me.

The worst distance that could happen between someone is one that is caused by misunderstanding and miscommunication. I have always known that from time to time you need to show and tell someone how you feel and yes, some people will eventually leave because they don't understand the silence you're creating. But in moments of clarity, I hoped that there is still some good people around and if I'm lucky enough, at that moment I wish to someday found that good person and they won't leave no matter what happens. But then again, we still need words and not just noises to understand the silence we don't understand. I truly do cherish every moment that we spend together; all your imperfection; your strength, passion and patience; the surreal quality of your complex mind; the beauty of your smile; and I cherish you as a person, that is kind and gentle. I truly and utterly thankful to have you in my life and I once also wrote, "you're the only temporary thing in my life that I want to make permanent." I stand true to my words, even after all the pain I cause you and you cause me. I want to be bound to you and only you. I don't know how else to convince you how much I love you. But I guess it's not a matter of being persuasive, it's a matter of being enough or not and maybe all of it wasn't enough. Maybe complexity isn't for you.

It pains me that I have to look to another person or place and take refuge in them because you cannot give me the warmth that I needed and the air for me to breathe. It pains me that you think I don't appreciate you and all the things you have done for me. It pains me that you think I don't try to understand you as much as you try to understand me. It pains me that there is a high probability in order for me to heal and to release you from the immense expectations I put on you, is by stop writing about and for you. It pains me that you drink to cope from me, while I cut to cope with my pain. It pains me that you made me feel unappreciated with my writings. It pains me that you have to make me happy out of obligation. It pains me that my pain causes you pain. It pains me that my burden becomes yours. It pains me that you don't get the best thing that you truly deserve from me. Yet it also pains me that some days, you turn out to be just like everyone and hurts me. It pains me. Writing this pains me. But compared to my poetry, maybe it will be easier for you to understand. If it didn't, then I will truly, for the last time, truly release you and will once again only write mostly for myself. But when that happens, don't blame me or wonder why I don't write about you anymore or for you anymore. When it happens, don't ask me to write about you or for you again. When it happens, don't hate me for it. To be release is what you wanted, and will be your choice.

In so many ways, I wish to be proven wrong but just like you I, unfortunately, don't always get to experience that. But that's okay, because I have been keeping myself warm and helping myself breathe when it aches all over, and I'm afraid I can do it again.


Much love,
C.L. xxx

APPRECIATING MY ONE AND ONLY BLUE BITS, ALWAYS AND EVERYDAY

I don't write as much these days and when I told him this, he grew sad and said that he felt guilty. He felt guilty for helping me get better emotionally, and when my emotional state is better, the writing seems to stop. I laughed when he said that to me though because I don't know whether him feeling guilty is the sweetest thing or just the weirdest thing.

A lot of sweet words were said, but not without arguing about the little things, about the big things, and basically about everything. There were times when we hurt each other (some were unintentional, but there were some that were intentional. I regrettably, of course, did most of the intentional one), but we keep coming back to each other every time and tends each other's wounds. From the first moment that we talked, I can feel as if everything starts to fall into place. That first grinned that felt like the calmest wave in a storm, and the dreamy look he gave as he watches me admiring and enjoying the rain and simply whenever.

A friend of mine asks me today, whether all the hurtful things a lot of people (guys in particular) ever said and did, were worth it after all. She doesn't have to ask and no one needs to remind me how worth it, it all was. I mean, it would be great to not have to go through one bullshit after another, but without the struggles, I don't think I'll be as appreciative and careful with this. Because of those who know me might know whom this writing is about. I am actually holding something back as it is my private life after all and I guess since the beginning I was always careful when it comes to writing about him, even if it is poetry. There are the instinct and sense of wanting to keep him to myself as he is mine and mine alone, at least for the time being. Yet I also have this intricate sense of want and need of wanting to share what I have with him to the world and make the world envious of it. Sounds more like the intricate sense of paradoxes and my head is filled with too much poetry, prose, and to be honest, science essay that I don't know how much of my writing makes some sense and good and not pretentious and crap.

But yes, he can be the thickest person ever. Though he has his moments when everything that he said and did is the sweetest things. Without even trying he can do and say the right thing and what I needed to hear. Without even trying, he can do and say what I needed to hear to tear down the walls I've built against those who didn't have the truest intentions and against love. Being with someone who made you believe and reminded you every single day that not only magic is real but its always within your reach as it can be found in you and everywhere you go, its always going to be there as long as you believe, is the most exhilarating thing—and for lack of a better word, its bloody magical.

I'm not hundredth percent sure how it will all end—or begin—as only time will tell and no sweet words can ever be enough. No 'I love you' can ever be enough. But telling you that I think I am ready, at least emotionally, might be enough. Yes?

As I am the gladdest thing under the sun as you cast your fragrance and radiance over me. I am delicate in all the right ways whenever you're around and there can always be a thousand prayers being said for you and about you but I am thankful for all the thousands of prayers I've uttered that leads me right to you. To a home that keeps calling and one that wanted to stays forever.

But only time will tell.

Yours truly x

THE MANY POSSIBILITIES

After so many times being disappointed by people and life, your head is filled with the many possibilities how things could go wrong and all the possibilities how this and that might not work out, that we forget to think about the possibility that it might work out. What then? Will you be able to make the most of it and simply take a chance? Or are you simply going to walk away because of the fear of being happy? 

THE BITTERNESS OF TWENTY-ONE

I had been having great birthdays the last couple of years after I had a week of episodes on my 17th birthday; I put no expectation, I made plans and the day turned out pretty alright. But not this year. I made a plan that simply turned yesterday into a day that I was afraid of having: full of tears and ended with cutting and suicidal thoughts. WTF, I know. I don't like it more than you do.

I welcome twenty-one with a drink on one hand and words of reassurance on the other. I'm not even kidding that most of those people who called themselves my friends, legit forget about my birthday. Hey, I get it you're busy but even my own best friend only texted me saying, "omg it's your birthday!!!" and then nothing else. Am I the only one seeing the problem here??? justify it all you want but that's just wrong man. come on. I never needed a gift, but wishes from those who said and claimed to love me matter, always. And the one person that I thought would at least made my day better, even with the time difference, he decided to sleep through the day. Out of 24 hours +7hours from the time difference, we've only talked for about 15 minutes. And I can't believe I'm saying this, but for once I wished those—who makes me feel this way—the same pain and bitterness.

Another year has passed but a birthday is only an excuse to make people feel bad about themselves because as you get older, the more you and your bday being forgotten. This is why I keep saying to someone that I don't have him, not really. Because at the end of the day, especially these kinds of days, all I have is myself and no one else. Not your boyfriend, not your best friend, not your closest friends. Because people need to stop making such a big deal like birthday especially with one that has a specific age like 16, 17, 18 or 21. Like I'm just getting more wrinkle and getting closer to my death, and birthday sucks big time in the first place so don't put too much expectation on a specific age/birthday. People make a big deal out of something and they tend to forget to meet it or at least tries to meet it and then when the person who says that they shouldn't make a big deal out of something gets a bit excited about it, they decided to not fucking show up on the D-day. Which is a legit definition of what the fuck. So that is how I spend my twenty-first birthday, alone and bitter and in tears and heartbroken and disappointed, and ended up watching so many series episodes and eating fast food cs the person who supposed to have a movie date with you (this was my plan this year to avoid any episode cs I tend to have one on or after my bday) decided to sleep through your birthday when he knows how you feel about yesterday (he better be comatose or something men. this is not what I would have called as resting). Yet, I can't be upfront about my disappointment and bitterness because how can a birthday trumps death? Can't fucking with this. I'm just so damn done.

GOD AND A MAN

God sends hope 
in the most desperate moments. 
God show me light
through the imperfection of a man.
as you, are possibly one of
the best gift
a God has given me, 
as I prayed and he listens. 
So walk with me, 
love me inside out
let me see the light filling 
your brown eyes, to colour
the sky with every colour
than just blue, grey, and red. 
be a home that keeps calling,
be a home that stays forever. 
simply,
be a home, for me
and I, for you.

C.L.

MANIFESTASI RASA DAN PIKIRAN

banyak yang di rasa gpp

tapi coba mengurangi 

memikirkan

hal-hal yang sbnrnya diluar kontrol 

dan seharusnya cukup dijalanin aja.

mencoba untuk bisa lebih mengerti

mana yang cukup, kurang, dan berlebihan.

mencoba lebih baik lagi menjaga dia

yang memberi harapan,

yang mengisi ruang,

yang membuat hidup jd penuh 

dengan warna yg lebih baik.

terus mencoba untuk selalu jadi lebih baik 

bukannya kembali menjadi diri yang dulu

yang cuma mengerti pahit dan apa yang mengoyak hati,

yang asing dgn sesuatu (dan seseorang) yang menenangkan jiwa.

coba untuk bisa berhenti sejenak

mencoba untuk berdiam

untuk memahami, menyadari

apa yang tersembunyi

apa yang sulit untuk di ucap

dan apa yang lebih baik.

mencoba untuk bisa membedakan

fakta dan rasa.

perlahan mencoba,

perlahan terbentuk dan menjadi

yang lebih baik, lebih kuat, 

lebih berwarna, lebih bermakna.

C.L.

Color of Jakarta VLOG - Goodbye, Jakarta

Hello, everyone! Apologies for being gone for so long as I haven't been writing as much these last couple of months and even if I do write, it's poetry and I mostly given those to the people I wrote it for.

Anyway, last weekend friends of mine and I made some vlog to be submitted to a competition (but its in Bahasa) so here you go if you want to check them out but before you do, apologies first hand if my voice or face annoys you (lol):

LOOKING FOR WHAT IS RIGHT.

Sometimes you don't really get what you want but what you need. You keep on wishing for things to turn out as you wanted it. The plot twist to your story is not you never wanted it in the first place or you don't get it (as expected) but it is that your wishes came true. 

After so many years of heartaches and after so long going through so many hardships, I have finally found someone who helped me heal without even lifting a finger. Having him around, helped me heal in a way I wasn't able to do on my own. His presence gave me many things and he doesn't even know or even realised it. But I always knew that there is something about him; there is a part of him that gave me tranquility, but there is also a part of me that made me unable to fully trust him. The consistency of his action when it comes to love made me doubt him. The consistency in its pattern when it comes to love made me doubt us. 

I never really said this out loud. I don't want to. I want to be able to trust him completely, with no doubt. With no fear. But sometimes its a hard thing to do; I love him, but I wish I'm not filled with this much dread whenever I think about losing him, especially when we both know that I might have to leave. 

But I wish I sometimes know how much love he feels for me. I sometimes wish that I know how many things and what are the things he conceal from me as he conceal so many things from everyone. He may not lie, but sometimes he doesn't tell the whole truth which never really sits well with me. Not only I value honesty so damn much, but I also practice them. So when I see someone as simply as not telling the whole truth and hiding things from someone, I see them just the same like those who lie, cheat and deceit on a daily basis. I want to know what fear he has, and all the fucked up things that has happened to him that lead him to become the person that he is.

The thought of not loving him would make things a whole lot easier, crossed my mind so many times a day. 

The thought that he might love someone else as fast as he fell in love with me, crossed my mind so many times a day. 

The thought that I'm nothing new, no one special as he found so many of "me" before he met me, crossed my mind so many times a day. 

Sometimes, it hurts. Sometimes, it only left me wondering whether this really is the right thing to do especially for myself. I no longer know which decision is simply me being destructive; leaving him or loving him till this ends. Either way it will hurt like a son of a bitch, that I'm sure of. There are bits and pieces from here and there that actually makes a lot of sense, that actually makes it clear on what I should do but I guess the heart wants what it wants and this time, it wins while logic lose. 

I said that I wanted to do this without any safety net, but it gets harder and harder to do especially when he doesn't even trust me. I understand his logic and his way of living, yet its not the easiest logic to grasp on. And just because I understand, doesn't mean it doesn't hurt. 

Funny how you're the one with trust issues and yet here I am, unable to trust you fully. I might let you in, into the obscure part of me, but doesn't mean I trust you with my life. Maybe I do. Maybe I don't. I really don't know at this point. I see things clearer yet not at the same time. Loving him calms my soul but the uncertainty of how things might end scares me to death. 

Anyway, I've been writing and talking too much Bahasa Indonesia that I think I'm making zero sense when I talk or write in english so I might write again soon. 

Have a lovely weekend everyone. 

C.L.

A SHORT, MUST WRITTEN, THANK YOU NOTE.

It's easier to live profoundly through words; writing all of your thoughts down is easier than talking about them. From one pain to the next, from one struggle to the next. I honestly don't know when everything inside get so damaged. There are good days when the healing process is going well, then there are bad days when the process is going rather slow, but then there are also those days where everything is just too much and the energy inside felt like it had been drained, all I wanted to do is simply give up and let the dark things win.

But then fate brought us together and it is as if being given a gift of a bright sunlight that illuminates the empty, broken spaces in me. You came with a pure intention, that you feels too much like a breath of fresh air in the midst of dawn.

Sweet words sometimes means nothing, but know that everything that I say came from the bottom of my heart. Yet there are still so many things that I haven't told you, so many things that I wish I could tell you. I appreciate the fact that you can talk openly about so many things to me. I appreciate the fact that you'd took the time to reassure me about myself, yourself, and about us. I appreciate the fact that you don't follow the social norms where we dance through some bullshit games. I understand that this might not be a new thing to you, I understand that it might not be the kind of special thing that feels like magic, but it is for me. But I'm sorry I couldn't give you much. I'm sorry that I'm carrying too much baggage. But thank you for always being a wonderfully kind, and patience person. Thank you for being so understanding and I appreciate the fact that you always listens to my obscure rant when you can easily ignored it. I know 'love' might be a strong word, and we can get so scared sometimes to use it especially when everything has only just begun, but I just need you to know that I appreciate the fact that you took the time to make me feel loved and reminding me that I am surrounded by so many good people with so many good love. I feel genuinely happy the fact that you're not easily scared by 'too much' emotions that I say and give out.

I understand that things might get difficult but at this point I've felt enough heartache in my very short existence so I don't really care what people are gonna say but I only hope that we're gonna help each other out if things are getting out of control. To preserve the good things, and what we have left within.

I know that there might be things that you still don't understand, and I promise I'll try to let you in little by little into this obscure mind of mine, even into the ugliest part of my past if you want and need to. I too will try to understand yours. I hope you never get tired of me, or sick of me. I am also writing this as a reminder if I ever get distant, it simply means I need to be alone with my own mind to figure things out as emotions can be overwhelming but it doesn't mean I want you gone, because you always put a smile on my face.

I also wanted to say thank you, for always bringing those light within you and shinning it out for everyone around you and for me. I am learning everyday to be more stable. I am learning everyday letting people—most importantly, you—in. I am learning everyday to communicate better, whether it is through writings or a face-to-face talk. I am learning everyday to trust: to let go of my fear and letting my guard down whilst also preserving what I have left and protecting myself (and yours). I am learning everyday not doing everything by myself. I am learning to be better. I am also trying to learn everything about you. I am also trying to learn to understand you. Trying is the least I can do.

Whilst you always tries to understand, I can only promise you that I will always try to learn new things everyday, so be patience with me as that is honestly the only few things on my (sort of) demand.

FLOWERS WALK

morning petals pressed 

against heated skin 

and the way her sweetness 

catches you off guard 

all day long,

made you stretched the sky 

with a brush of her words, 

with a hand full of sprightly tulips.

you smiled at the tiniest petal

caught in her hair. 

and like the sweetest spring breeze, 

there is a gentle grace in her stillness,

an overflowing floodplain 

of hearts and flowers: a reminder

of the sweet, muted tones drenched

by raindrops.

as the cool, soft breeze and brilliant sun 

soaring in perfect unison,

the slow and deliberate steps we took,

focusing on every breath,

the soft, early light

moves us along the path.

with hands full of all the gentle, quiet things

that gives you peace,

you wrote her name in flowers 

it made the quiet light senses heart

whispers more gently, yet clearer.

—C.L.

Eighteen, with one imperious and selfish soul. 
What am I doing here?
Why am I still here?
Can we stop? Because I don't need anybody's pity, 
(Stop the one i'm throwing myself)

But I'm out of my mind,
Looking, with flinty stare, for magic 
In this fucking cruel world.

Because when you smile, your eyes shine
And my God how I want to scream 
And tell the whole goddamn world how beautiful you are
And my God, I want you to kiss me.

So tear the wall around me apart,
Tear me into piece,
Fill me with your lies,
Abandon me,
Because that is all you do. 
Because that is all everyone do.

So put your lips on mine,
Feel me slip away,
Watch me break apart,
Watch me bleed,
Watch me waste away,
Watch me floats away, 

As I wish you to surrender, 
As I wish you to break free,
As I wish you to stay,
As I wish you to want me to stay,
As I wish you to let me in,
As I wish you to keep us safe. 

But the hell with you. 
The hell with love.
I want to set love on fire.
I want to set romance on fire. 
I want to set us on fire. 

2am and I'm still wide awake
Writing about you,
Waiting in vain,
So,
Go on, 
Leave.

Leave before you're ever here. 
Go on,
Watch me crumble,
Go on,
Grab a piece of me,
You fucking bastard.
Go on, 
Kiss me and disappear,
You fucking hypocrites.
Go on,
Leave;
I'm shutting my heart down.


—C.L. 

A PROFUSION OF PARADOXES

I pace around hungry, looking for a sleek smile

silently starving and craving

for the brush of your finger against my flesh,

and my lungs breathe rapidly

in hopes of inhaling your scent

that made every fragments in me trembles

as there is a perfection in something

that can't be owned;

in someone that I cannot have.

But you see how I fail to keep my distance

you see how I tried to keep you out,

and fail irrevocably. Instead, as I was

being stripped of what is familiar, 

what is hidden well,

I took a step further, getting pulled in

into the unknown

as if everything that exists, carries me to you.

Though I am bound to scars and wound; like vines 

on melancholy walls, in the lining 

of my skin, there lives a crystal moon

and you'll remember me

in every timeless raindrops you'll see. 

Your caresses enfold me, as you taste like magic. 

Yet despite all that

if you touch me too long, you will make to me 

a long, hard crimson fissure; an irreparable harm.

Because of the brittle sense of my soul's exuberance, 

its constant lament towards that is 

soft and glimmering with silvery tenderness,

I will constantly distrust any promises, soft touches, 

and the implacable sweetness 

of your smile and words;

I'll preserve what is left of my infinitesimal being.

as I believe there are a profusion 

of things that you conceal

so I'll keep you near yet far away 
I'll hold you softly within these words, 

I'll keep you close, but never in.

—C.L.

LAMENTATION OF THE FLESH

They wish to be 

as strong as me.

What they do not know is that

behind the iron-strength,

there is an iron blade;

I carry it around, I hid it close, I hid it well. 

Like the soft rain with its rhythmic sobs,

the world could only hear the long murmuring sound clearly

so I touch my body in vain to find the wound.

You tried to touch my body,

but a thorn prick your thumb,

and an invisible air is all there is of me.

I have felt the wind on 

my second flesh; madness, I called her.

She thickens the air, heavy as water

condemning everything that goes through.

Drunken with her, I shouted at it

a night-long laments.

But when blood was revealed

behind the veil; revealing the secret
Like an unblessed moon, I can hear 

a countless number of gasp and horror.

So I say to them,

"How do you think I can do it for so long?"

—C.L.

The Wishing Box

maybe someday 

I'll learn to get up from the table

when love is no longer being served. 

maybe someday 

I'll learn to stop coming and trying

to reach someone that is simply unreachable.

maybe someday

I'll learn to walk away from what is temporary

and though unhinged,

maybe someday

I'll learn to heal what can be healed. 

and maybe someday

you'll learn to see beauty 

in wreckage, in dark places, like I do. 

maybe someday

you'll learn to touch what's broken:

to love it, instead of ripping it apart.

maybe someday

you'll learn the true meaning

of being strong. 

maybe someday 

you'll learn to shine despite the beautiful rain.

maybe someday 

we'll learn to let someone 

completely in. 

maybe someday 

we'll learn to forget someone

who breaks us, even the pain. 

maybe someday 

we'll learn to walk away from love

that only make us wonder. 

maybe someday

we'll learn to accept the love

that we always longed for. 

and maybe and hopefully 

someday come sooner 

than we hoped for. 

Hello?

Are you there?

Are you here?

Can you hear me? It? My prayers?

Does God even listening?