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An Abundance of Libra

Most of the time I feel so alone until every ghost in this universe could possibly choose not to haunt my gloomy heart simply because it’s way too deserted. Other times I tried to look around and found no one. I was left by myself to answer all of the questions and to figure out how my life should exactly be. Until I glance a stare to a far distance only to find an abundance of Libra waving their hands at me, cheering and welcoming their own favorite one, tis the season to be jolly. Since this writing is not about me. This one is about Hana, someone who is extraordinarily smart, but stupid enough to let me ruin her last year of high school by agreeing to sit with me. And there she is, tangled in my messed up story through the remaining years until right this second. A quite unique Libra, I could say. People could see her but not quite see who she is; brain beauty with a tad of stupidity who I believe will never need any luck in her way. Just because she made it a certain way, and she ...

I Kinda Don't Share & You Got It

Things I am not willing to share: 1. The lychee on my iced tea 2. Pia legong 3. The last bar of chocolate 4. My fucked-up history on the family area 5. The scar that’s way too revealing yet i’ve always succeed on hiding 6. The comfort of my own cold & quiet room whenever I need my space 7. My best friend’s confidential stories 8. Names of my crushes (like, never) 9. Hundreds of unfinished letters of anger I wrote to avoid snapping at people when I’m upset 10. The old site of my blog Actually, there are like hundreds of things I am not willing to share to anyone, including you. I’m sorry this is not a love letter and you’re not the only exception. You are not even an exception at all. There isn’t any exception regarding my life and my constant need of dealing with it by my own. Your way of being right there in front of me with eyes full-focused listening to my rambling words about the movie I watched last night while drinking an iced lychee tea is what I want to write about. It is n...

Untuk semua yang diharapkan menjadi

Untuk setiap hela napas, terdapat harapan dan mimpi yang hampir kandas Diselipkan penuh hati-hati dalam satu dua tiga gulir detik yang berlomba dikejar oleh mati Entah tentang rencana panjang atau cara menghindari berjalan telanjang Akuilah, Tidak semua nyata adalah bahagia Semua yang diinginkan untuk menjadi, Pun akan mati di beberapa sisi Seperti seorang penulis yang punya mimpi untuk ciptakan sebuah citra yang memanja mata Namun apa daya, Jauh sebelum kuas menyelesaikan tugasnya, Ia sadar untuk mengingatkan sejuta manusia Akan kesia-siaan yang akan datang Dalam setiap hela napas, Penulis tahu tangannya bukan untuk menggores kuas; Bukan untuk mencampur warna; Bukan untuk mencipta citra, Di akhir cerita, ia akhirnya memanggil teman baiknya Untuk sekadar temani apa yang sudah terlanjur mati Sebelum menjadi Sederet kata yang tersusun di bawah gambar adalah bentuk pemanfaatan akan semua yang telah  hancur berantakan Mati ditelan harapan selama tujuh bulan