Saturday, October 15, 2016





White linen,
Black lace,
& Grey Wool.

Breezy shirt,
Tight dress,
& Knitted sweater

Green grass
Cold sidewalks
& big puddles.

Traffic light,
Golden facade,
& distant lakeview.

Burnt skin,
Blown hair,
& Runny nose

Cinammon gelato,
Nutella crepes,
& Ginger tea

Lunchboxes,
Grilled meat,
& festive pasta.

Mosquito fightout,
Pigeon feeding
& Dog walking.

Generous storyteller,
Curious traveller,
& clever loveseeker.

Lost among buildings,
A little too much drinking,
A drive around an unlit city.

---
The feeling of three hundred seasons.
This, within two moons.
I plea for a thousand more.
Seasons
10/15/2016 04:49:00 AM

Seasons

Sunday, December 6, 2015








I had a dream last night.
It was just as strange as the most interesting dreams of mine have been.
I don’t really know how to feel about it.
I wasn’t necessarily frightened.
I wasn’t excited either.
I was probably sort of curious.


---

I was standing in line, along with my family. My parents were ahead, followed by me, then my little sisters. It was a long line. It seemed like the entire world was queueing for something big. It felt like judgement day. Just because when I look around, I didn’t see the world I know. We were in a place where everything around us was blurry, in tones of blue and green. The only clear vision we could get a hold of was the faces of the people, up to 15 steps from where you stand. In the middle of a wide blurry galaxy, we stood in a line on a long platform, black and shiny, almost a meter in width. That was all. An infinite railing-less bridge cutting through a sea green galaxy. Nothing felt real. But somehow, I just know it wasn’t judgement day.

Somehow we were told that when we get to the front of the line, we were to choose between two things. The queue took the whole day. Well, we didn’t actually know how long it went on because we could see the change of day. We didn’t know where the sun was, or if the moon was out there watching us. We couldn’t tell time. We were confused, me and my sisters, everybody, but no one really talked about it to each other. Instead we talked about other things, that make us happy. It was like we know we were supposed to do this, but no one really knew what we were actually up to.

As I was getting a conversation going with my two sisters, it was finally our turn. Wait. But where did mom and dad go? We didn’t pay attention to what was happening in front of us. We were told to choose. The turn was for the three of us all at once, but we could choose to our own liking. 

They were lists. On my left side, the list consists of circumstances, which I conclude was ‘to live in the world you have known’. In this world, you will meet all the happiness earthly things can bring. You’re allowed to drink all you want. You’re allowed to love anyone you want. But you are going to go through pain, heartbreaks, and loss. But somehow they assured us that those pain will be pleasure, not like the ones you know from where we came from. Yes, you’re allowed to do anything you want, any sin you have known to be pleasurable, and will not be considered as sinning. There’s war and there’s peace. But both will seem just as convenient. What a great offer right? It’s as if it was a brainwash. Like here’s to the world without sin, but you’d have to live it all over again.

On my right, there was also a list, printed on white background. It had a simpler layout. But nothing on the list was familiar. It promised us a place of happines and full of content. It didn’t mention the specific features, but I could sense peace right then. We were told though, that we’ve never gone through any of what was going to be given there. We are to obey and follow some regulation, but was assured that they were doable as long as we’re in peace. It sounded more beautiful to me, although it was so abstract. It was tempting for me. The only thing they ever mentioned was basically about gaining an eternal peaceful state of mind.

Suddenly, before I could choose, I thought about my mother. What did she choose? I thought about my father, would he rather go with the first option? So I asked them. I don’t know who they were but I couldn’t exactly remember seeing them there. What did my parent choose? Can I just go whereever they went? But I was told that this was an independent individualistic decision to make. I started to get scared. What are these two places?

Then they told us that we were to choose between two worlds. We are going to start a new life, with a different family, surrounded by people we’ve never seen. We could live again from zero. So then, the family we once knew wouldn’t matter anymore. They’d be erased from our memories once we enter our new worlds. Nothing will feel familiar, because we would forget that we have lived a  life before this. 

I stood in disbelief. I knew right away what I was heading for. I wanted to know more about the world on my right. I looked at my sisters. Their eyes were wet and I hoped so much for them to make the same choice as I would. I lost my parents somewhere in one of those worlds. I was not ready to lose them too, although I know I wouldn’t recognize them once we’re in the new world together. Our eyes said good bye. But before I could ask them what I wanted to and before I could say a good bye in words, they BOTH jumped into the world on the left. They disappeared. And now I’m left alone standing there in disbelief wanting to jump to the right world but got too distracted from the pain in seeing the only people I know on that bridge disappeared.


---


And then I woke up. 
I don’t know which world I ended up choosing.
But I know I wanted to live in the world on my right. 
I can’t stand the idea of war and pain being possibly pleasant to go through. 
Those people who chose that are probably too in love with the world we came from and was gaddamn curious of how sin can not hurt and destroy. How free a fun world could be. 

But I didn’t like the idea. I wanted a new world. I’m tire of this world. That other world sounded like an awaited paradise. It was way more promising. It sounded beautiful although no one could really describe it. Am I wrong, or am I just too full of hope and expectations?

I don’t really know the meaning of this dream.
But I am scared now. 
But God if you ask me to choose, I’d still choose a simple heaven over hell full of forgiveness.


A Dream About Two New Worlds
12/06/2015 03:15:00 PM

A Dream About Two New Worlds

Saturday, August 22, 2015




I am human.
Even so, to me, it is the most incomprehensible concept.
Yes, I’m referring to us, human beings.
Isn’t it funny how we are what it is, but we can never fully understand how we got here, this time and place.
We never know how these feelings work and why they’re there.
What do we live for?
We reach a certain age, and feel like it’s the perfect time to decide our very own purpose. The purpose of existing. How we love, what we do, and who we surround  ourselves with. But then lies the hardest question, one you can rarely give a concrete answer to: Why.

I don’t play God.
But sometimes, I want to walk in other’s shoes so bad, I get overwhelmed with the idea. I get so curious about how they feel.
But other times, I can’t even justify my own thoughts.
I can’t tell if I would like to figure out more about my feelings than theirs or vice versa.
Because I can’t tell if it’s me against the universe, or is the content of this universe too diverse, that I appear to be just another unique speck of dust that isn’t the only one with such feelings and wonders.
Sometimes I get mad at myself. I feel so left out, not able to think and feel the way majority in our society does. It might not sound like a big deal, but when it happens recurringly, it gets to you every moment.

For instance, you genuinely give with all good intentions but end up not being appreciated. And then you wonder, what was so wrong about giving? Or did I just choose the wrong moment to give? And of course, any right mind wouldn’t make a sense out of those questions. But that could be an impact of a simple, overlooked response.

The same idea could go with any other good deeds. But why do you expect so much back? It doesn’t have to be because you’re hoping for something in return, in material. It isn’t exactly because you want to hear an applause. And it shouldn’t be because you seek for attention. It is probably just expectation’s doing. One of human’s biggest struggle. You don’t choose what to expect. You don’t even get to choose to not expect. I have written about expectation before, but I guess this.. is more about the different ways people think that lead us to those expectations.

Just because we feel one way doesn’t mean others feel the same, no matter how illogical it may seem. Just because we have an opinion on one thing, doesn’t mean others would have the same perspective you do. Even times when people actually feel and think the way you do, won’t exactly mean they will do the same things you would. They just don’t. I’m not going to tell you to not expect, because once again, we’re human and that is just one of the many struggles we’re stuck with. I can only tell you to try to remember that people will only feel and think differently.

I don’t play God, but if anybody could, I’m sure they’d play by making people feel the way they think they should feel. Which would lead them to do what others would want them to do. And that is when chaos happens.



Good day. Keep giving.





Where's the Applause?
8/22/2015 09:55:00 AM

Where's the Applause?

Friday, July 24, 2015

 




Happy memories keep clinging,
I try to balance it with all the sad thoughts, all the things that could make me hate;
The thousands I know I could list forty days ago.
I’m amazed to find myself digging
and couldn’t name any, nothing I could state.
I couldn’t make any sense out of letting go.


Disoriented. Came these thoughts that keep us away from sanity.
Was it nothing that we had to but wanted to do?
Or was it in fact something we thought we wanted and thought we had to do, but was actually something we never needed to do?










Follow my blog with Bloglovin
The Cling
7/24/2015 03:48:00 PM

The Cling