hmmmff..ramble rumble mumble..

People believe that the only person that you can depend on is yourself. I know it’s true. Recently I’m juggling a thousand balls. Each week the world starts to throw a new ball at me. Now all I know everything is cluttered. I lost my rhythm. I lost my skills to juggle these balls up and down circling in the air. I wish I could find a way to do this. I think I know how. Yes I know how. But where do I start?

I never ever wanted to disappoint people around me. They cheered me up for my own good. They did their best. But where is my best? Why do i feel my best is never enough? I used to manage to keep things in order. I used to manage to keep everyone happy. Be there for them to talk to, to hug, to hand them a tissue and give them a support. But every single time I do what I wanted to do I end up disappointing myself caused by disappointing others. My decision for myself is most of the time out point. If I were to throw a ball to my future, I would miss the target for most of it. Once I hit on point -for what I thought it was for my sake- it ends up as a wrong decision for me and affect the others. People might say then don’t give a f**k what people say. Just keep on doing it, you’ll get a hold of it. Then again I keep thinking I can’t and people could. but one thing that I always wonder, they might say they care about me, by the end they could put themselves first. They just know when to save themselves first. But why can I?

All I know I’m starting from zero. Well I don’t have as bad luck as many people in the world. I know, I could survive. I know I will. But what I envy them the most is they do have someone to be there for them on their good and on their bad, 110% always on their side. I wish I had them. They know they have one person who will always pray for them every single day. I know that we have to finish our businesses on our own. But god do I wish there is someone out there who would hold my hand in my good and in my bad.

Be grateful for the person sitting next to you through out your journey. Be grateful for the people who would always be there when you drop a tear on your face. Be grateful for the people that hold your hand and could see how fragile you are. Not so often people in the world have someone who would stand next to you without a single drop of a feeling to give up on you. Once you have someone who would stand still do what you got to do and be sure to do the same to the one person next to you. You just don’t know how it feels to stand on the battle field all by yourself over and over unless you can turn yourself into a fighter, a pure survivor in one day. I even believe every single fighter in the world wanted a place, a one person they could call home.

my dear story, blood and poisonous heart.

I thought that I couldn’t fall deeper than before. The tunnel is getting deeper and deeper by the day. I thought I found my way out. Rising, crawling and searching my way out for a light of happiness. But somehow, this quick sand is dragging me deeper and deeper to the bottom. I wish I could breath. I wish I could find a way to hold on to maybe a black vine. My hand keeps on reaching hoping for something to come my way. Drag me to the surface something or someone. I need air I need light. This lethal poison is eating me day by day. Oh yes I wish I were strong. I wish god still hear my cries and prays. I wish someone will hold my hand and fight by my side. Help me I wanted to breath. I want to find my way out. I’m giving up. I’m cold. I’m surrendering my self to the darkness. What will come out of this life for me? As people started to walk. I’m crawling backwards. I’m giving up. Hold my hand please when you said you love me, dear thorn. Life is bitter as it is. I thought we are drinking the same poison, why am I sinking faster and you are reaching your way out. Why am I still here as you found your way out?

Dear blood you are bringing your own sun to warm you, instead of taking me with you. Dear poisonous blood, as my heart explodes will you be far away from here without remembering what I told you. Forgetting what I’m going through. Will you just walk away with an excuse that you did this for me. I can’t see which part of this is mine. Which part except hoping me to be strong for you, being there for you, holding your hand and protecting you from the evil faces are any advantages of mine except it is all my sacrifice for your arrogant life.

Am I looking at this flat surface as a maze? Or is it true my life is tangled? Am I making my life difficult? What should I actually feel? What should I actually do? All I see are puzzles, riddles, questions and pieces. I keep pouring my sacrifices, keeping me deeper and deeper in the room without oxygen. I cry below and I cry above. Which path should I follow? I’m getting lost in my own mistakes, sacrifices, decisions, illusions and heart. I am swallowed deeper and deeper in my own heart. I need you my poison. I need you to hold my hand. I need you to breath air and give me some sun light. Life is getting colder and colder each day. I need warmth. I need to be safe. I need a way out.

The curtain is closing. Everything is getting darker and darker my dear story. Everything seems out of my reach. One day my song will be sung and I’ll find my way to stand. I know I will. When I do, I’ll make sure you are with me, dear story. Coz you’ll remind me of my 20 darkest times. When I breathe light and when I touch the sun I will be thankful and grateful for the strength I have. Not because of you dear wound, but it’s all because I can.

Dear Winter

I was in my room as I found a pile of letters. The letters were hidden deep inside a heart. It was pretty dark in there. As Icicle sang in my ears I read the first one and it was a letter to winter.

Dear winter,

I guess I miss your sight starting this year.

Here I am who used to be a light switch myself into dark. I’m still avoiding from opening a new book and holding yours instead. My dear winter I am still here in fall. Last summer burns still mark clearly on my skin. Hoping your white sight reach me. But I guess I blame my choice of country.

My days here are still showered with rain; scared to open my eyes hating the fact that I made you shut your door. My wings are broken, I was hoping I could flew there. But, the healer could not heal the wings that are broken on time. The clouds are getting thicker and thicker here. Loneliness is palpable I might say. But I know I have to stand on whatever fall throws me in with. So, here I am still sitting on the Saturn’s Ring watching the orbital ball where we used to live in.

The year asks me if I would agree to play the role of a stranger instead for later this month till who knows when I'm going to retire. I agree to learn starting now. So here I am still in a search for a drop of strength, a costume or mask to wear. I know it’s the only part that I am entitled of in a world that I am not a part of anymore. I believe it is the only way I could be close to you.

The blue diamond that you gave me still accompanying me through my days. I’m still hoping on the blue diamond to blow away the dark clouds. Because there is a scar I can’t cure and i'm hoping the clouds would at least cover it. I am avoiding my blood spoiling your new pages you know.

Your colored white pages.

Your beautiful new book.

I will be coming later in the end of the season I think. I'm hoping my blood wont spoil your book by then.

But, I am doing just fine. I want to apologize for my thunder, if you feel it's bothering you, just walk on and ignore me as you have done in this new book that you have started.

This is the season to start a clean slate I heard. People around believe on a new hope and I believe you have started yours.

Luna told me you have turned the other part of the world white. Your new life has begun indeed. You promise the silver dressed girl to start in the fourth beginning of this year. Yes, Venus whisper to me on a rainy Thursday that there is a silver flake girl here that will turn into an angel soon. She will be your new butterfly in spring as I predict. She is healing your wound little by little I feel. Yes, She is preparing to bloom in your spring indeed. Tell the Butterfly I won’t be bothering her part. She doesn’t have to worry. I am aware of my place. I am aware of my place on the other side of your door. I read the sign closed clearly. But I will always be here if you need me. I will watch your season change in silent. Don’t you worry I will be waiting for the blue seed to dry and so that your new church bell could ring. I will watch in silent as the white doves flies free in the end of your new book and I’ll congratulate you with a smile by then, I hope.

I heard she is a rose in a lily field. She could show you the warm of winter. I know you won’t fade into the mist. She will run like a fire dust a pure shed of lightning to save you. Her laughter is a pure song that you can sing. I wish you well dear winter. I will be here watching from a far as I promise, as you change from a winter to spring and bloom in colorful summer where the scar will fade as you have found your light.

With this letter I hope the new sun suites you well and for the beautiful stardust to come sooner than she had promised. She will repair your life with white hope I see. Trust me I won’t come into your way coz I will be here surrendering my self to time to grow up and face the dark fall hoping my clean slate to come somewhere next winter. Remember that I am here; I will always be on the other side of the door if you need me.

With love,

Ribbons undone.

naked.. force to undress..

This weekend was unique, a particular weekend that I haven’t experienced for quite a long time now. I had some of my space. I always believe people in need of their own space once and a while without a reason in particular. People are in need of a room to breath. But sometimes society demands differently. Sometimes it is just a taboo thing to have your own territory. Somehow it is demand for everything to have a concrete reason instead of believing it is just a will we need to fulfill. Do we always need a reason? why everything has to have a story?

Sometimes without us noticing, we are actually walking naked or using too many layers of stories. Either we are demand to take off all those stories by people around us -coz it is one of the rules to be part of a society we live in- or either we know that particular stories are unusual things to share that we have to use it as whole new layers on top of our skin. I thought the choices in life supposed to be ours alone but, by the end of the day we all did what the society demands unconsciously. There is always something right and wrong, that is what they say and they are the one to judge. 

Then I started to wonder do we all have to live life blindfolded and naked coz people were always in the mood to know or should we walk with so many layers and knowing that we are actually not brave enough to fight and argue with the people who are actually walking in our turf? is there anyway we could have our own rules instead of trying to follow the society just to avoid judgement?