One Day

This one movie…… Ah. If you read my stories or poems or anything, yes, I love sad love story. Sometimes it’s too good to be true, but, you know, somewhere in the whole world, that kinda thing is exist. So, the movie. Even for 4 times I watched it, I always got teary eyes. Well maybe some of people who worked on movie industries or some people who loved movies so much, said that the movie is no good, but for me, personally, it is awesome. You might say my level is too low, but whatever. It’s Anne Hathaway, by the way, with English accent. That sure score high in my list :p

The story is of two Edinburgh university graduates who become best friends, but fail to come together romantically until almost too late. By showing us the same day — St Swithin’s — over 20 years, it tells the story of their relationship and, through them, the story of a generation. The film is all about Dexter Mayhew. It is he who has the tragic character arc, he who grows as a character, him who you weep for by the end.

Emma Morley (Anne Hathaway) and Dexter Mayhew (Jim Sturgess) meet after their graduation from the University of Edinburgh on 15 July 1988. They spend the night together but agree to be friends.
Then one year later, Emma is working as a waitress in a Mexican restaurant in London and Dexter is travelling the world, drinking and promiscuously going through several girlfriends. Eventually Dexter becomes a wealthy and highly successful television presenter on a raucous late-night show. Although meeting once in a while throughout the years, Emma meets Ian (Rafe Spall), a comedian whom she doesn’t find funny. The two start dating anyway and she becomes a school teacher.
Dexter’s once-glamorous mother (Patricia Clarkson), now diagnosed with cancer, is unimpressed with the nature of his TV show. His father (Ken Stott) is also disappointed with him and bans him from the family house. Emma is growing steadily more irritated with Ian, so she and Dexter organize a meeting over dinner.
Dexter gets drunk, insults Emma, flirts with a blonde down the hall and generally ignores her most of the time. After making a public scene Emma storms off, suggesting that they break off their friendship entirely.
A few years later, Emma’s former roommate gets married and both she and Dexter are invited to the wedding. There she discovers that Dexter now has a new fiancee, Sylvie (Romola Garai), and is on the way to becoming a father. She tries to hide the fact that she is upset and they share a very brief kiss. Dexter learns that Sylvie is actually having an affair with an old friend of his. They divorce.
Emma and Ian split up and she becomes a published author. Emma moves to Paris, where Dexter visits in the hopes that they will get together again. By this time, despite their one-night-stand, Emma now has a new boyfriend (Sébastien Dupuis), who plays piano in a jazz band. Smitten and taken aback by this knowledge, Dexter begins to leave. But Emma, having second thoughts, chases after him and catches up, resulting in their sharing a passionate kiss.
Over the next few years, they become engaged and marry, Dexter runs his own cafe which proves to be very lucrative, and they start trying to have their own baby. They’re unsuccessful. While riding her bike out of a blind alley, Emma is hit by a truck and dies.
In 2011, Dexter visits the hill where he first went with Emma in 1988 again; this time with his daughter, Jasmine. He reminisces about the day when he and Emma first met.

That’s what wikipedia wrote. Sorry to spill the bean for you :p Anyways… This movie is super great, for me, and a friend of mine. Because I do love sappy love story, cheesy love story ❤ You should check it out. And be sure you have a pack of tissue near you. Lol.

-A-

Writing

I love writing. I really do. But, I hate to write my thesis. Yes, because I thought, I didn’t get anything in college. Seriously, you asked me something about Psychology, and asked my opinion combine with the theory I’ve learned, no, I couldn’t think. I’d rather said “umm, passed” than have to pretend “Oh, basically, it’s…..”. No, I hate that. Yes, I do hate my major in the first place. I mean, what the hell is this? I didn’t understand any of those, to be honest. You might ask, then why you learned that and pay for a major you don’t like? Long story. Well, long story short, my mother, my family, didn’t allow me to learn International Relation, they said “what would you be?”. I supposed to be a doctor, just like my family root. But then, I was lazying around and test for anything besides med school, and voila, psychology it is. I was like, great, my mental would be cure. But no. Instead, I become more idiot and stupid and useless than before. Oh God, why do I have to do a thesis? Why can’t it be something as simple as writing a short story? I really hate it. You give me a deadline until December 3, and I’ll write you an awesome story. But, you might give me time until February, and, still, my thesis document would be blank. That’s the different. I’d rather be dead than have to finish my thesis, with a scary lecturer like my mother, oh how complete my life is.

Writing a psychology thesis (or any major thesis) is not as simple as writing a short story. You should look for a problem that might occur in real life. Then you asked some people which has a problem like that. Then you should combine it with a theory you’ve learned for like 3 or more years in college. Then, you can make a great tittle of your thesis. And the first chapter. And, if your lecturer is not agree of that, you will end like me, sad, hurt, confused, scared, and much more. Or, you will do the cycle again. The death cycle. I’ve done it. The cycle, several times. And still, my lecturer didn’t give a shit. So, here I am, doing nothing but angry at everyone who asked about how’s my thesis going? Yes. This is real. I really hate writing things I didn’t good at. What would I wrote down? What should I wrote down? Things I don’t even remember? Or thing I don’t even understand? What? Give me some problems, and there you go, I will give you a thank you gift. Oh dear Lord, I always pray to you 5 times a day, but I still get this? What about people who never pray to you but you give them an easy way out? That’s really unfair, God 😦 (but then again, who I am to complaint Your Way, right, dear God?)

I really wish I am from a rich family so that my parents didn’t have to fight all the time about money, and debts, and things. So that I could easily move to my favorite major in my favorite university, and earn a bachelor degree within 4 years. Which, will make my mother so freaking proud, and people would stop asking things and my boyfriend and I would stop fighting over the same theme, my graduation. Ah. Stupid wish. Doesn’t matter how many times I wish for things, it never granted. ASDFGHJKL. What the hell is going on my mind? *sigh* This is because of my freaking boyfriend and my freaking friend asking not important thing such this. You know, I even get a haunted nightmare. Crap. This is all bullshit. Blame them. Blame everyone except me. They’re here to hurt me, to see me fall.  Oh dear lovely Lord 😦 I can’t stand any of this anymore. Can I just get a straight way to heaven? Or hell? 😦 I am sick of these things, actually. ASDFGHJKL. So sorry God. I am sorry.

-A-

A Story

People barely know him.
He always sits in the corner of the front row,
To watch people, he said.
He has a glasses that frames his face perfectly.
He always had books on his hands,
On his table, on his bag.
No one knows him, except this one girl.

People know her.
She always sits in the middle of her girls,
To be a center of affection, she said.
She has long and wavy burgundy hair,
That always smell like flower.
She always cheerful, kind, and beautiful.
She has much friends.
But, still no one knows her, except this one boy.

The glasses boy and the red hair girl met.
She pretends she doesn’t know him,
While he is sticking his nose on his book.
That’s, what people see.
Truth is, they’re holding hands.
In the bus to school.

One day she didn’t show up.
He waits patiently on his favorite spot on the bus.
But, she never jumped on.
He waits her at class, pretending to read.
But, she never showed up.
He’s worried, the look on his face is changing.
What if something happen to her?
Because only he knows the truth.
“I am in the park” she texted him.
He rushes from school and run there.
He sees her laying in the ground.
He breathes so fast and rough.
She notices him.
Her burgundy hair looks like blood in the grass,
She smiles and says “you look awful”.
He doesn’t care about what she has said.
He pulls her long sleeves and sees new fresh cuts on her wrist.
“you broke our promise” he says, angry.
Her tears fall down.
He hugs her.
They remain silent.

People barely know him.
He is a quite guy.
People know her.
She is an attractive girl.
On his hands there’s no book anymore.
There is a beautiful hand he promises to protect.
Her hands.
People look at them, whispering.
She smiles, and so does he.
“I won’t let you slip off of my hand anymore” he whisper.
She smiles widely.
She knows him forever.
And she loves him more than anything.

-A-

Drowning

Something is falling.
It touches my skin.
It’s red.
And fresh.
And looks good.
It’s perfect.
Am I dreaming?
Or, drowning?

The blood won’t stop.
My hand is now full of red bubbles,
Racing to fall down.
I am not afraid.
I am smiling, widely.
Am I dreaming?
Or, drowning?

I lick my wrist.
Like a psycho,
like a crazy person.
No. It’s true.
I am a psycho.
I am crazy.
I love the taste of blood.
But, am I dreaming?
Or, drowning?

I hear someone’s coming.
I hear loud voices.
I hear screaming.
I hear more people are running.
I hear them calling my name.
Oh, too late.
You’re way too late to save me.
I smile.
I am not dreaming.
I am drowning.

-A-

Coming

I heard rain is coming to town.
I heard you also are coming to town.
I don’t know how should I feel.
Happy? Or excited?
To see both of my favorite things are coming.
I heard rain is coming to town.
And today it reaches my house.
I was waiting in my room, next to the window.
With a cup of chocolate in my hand, I welcome rain.

I heard you are coming to town.
But still, you’re not coming to my house.
I waited you all day in my bedroom window.
Hoping you would knock it, just like rain.
I am still waiting for you.

I heard rain is coming to town.
I heard you also are coming to town.
Both of my favorite things are coming.
But only one that reached my window.
Rain.
I am still waiting for you.
Knocking my window, just like rain.
I will wait ’till my time is over.

I heard rain is coming to town.
I heard you also are coming to town.
Rain has reached my window.
Oh, what took you so long, dear?

-A-

Dear Josh

Hey Josh.

How do you feel? If you are (finally) reading this probably I was going out for a while when you’re awake. Take a bath or go buy another cup of coffee. Because trust me, from every single day it happened, I was sitting here, right by your side. So, how was it? Being coma for six months? What did you experience in there? Did you really meet God (like people always said)? Or even better, an angel?

Ah, my dearest Josh.

It is suck, you know, seeing you lying here. While I can’t do anything to make you wake. To make you see thingsthat has changed. Such as my hair, finally I got the long hair I want! Then, you missed the time where birds are flying to go somewhere warm. Yeah, it is finally winter. And you missed fireworks in summer, me wearing summer dress, halloween (I was potraying Sally, too bad my Jack isn’t here with me 😦 in case you want to know. Ah, I’ll just show you the pic, ‘kay?), the red falling leaves, the first snow, the turkey day. Ah, you practically missed everything! But, I was wondering, how was it in your another life? Did you celebrate things too? Did you see the red falling leaves and the first snow? Oh I really hope you did, because I know that was your favorite time 🙂

Josh, Josh, Josh.

It’s no fun without you around. I even pranked the kids from block C by myself. You should’ve seen their faces! But still, emptiness is coming. You see, you’re my half part. And I miss you. So much that all I wish for christmas is you (wait, does this rang a bell to you? Haha, it’s the song that kids are always singing). But truly, I wish for you. You know, I even put my socks in my fireplace, your fireplace, Jean’s fireplace, Tom’s, Katie’s, Rob’s, and almost the kids’ fireplace at school, even our school fireplace!, and also in the hospital’s and our church’s. Its all wish for you, so, you better awake! (or I swear I will kidnap Santa and kill him, if he didn’t grant my wish. I am serious!)

My lovely Josh.

I went to church almost everyday after school. Before I go here, of course. Father Frederrick is not as bad as we thought! He always listens to me when I told him our stories. Maybe that’s because it’s his job, or maybe… he really is a good man. And yeah, I told him ‘that’ and ‘that’ and also ‘that’. Don’t be angry please! It’s just…… I need something or someone to keep me sane, to keep me calm. Father Frederrick also teaches me to gave away my anger and my sadness to a positive things (how? You might ask, trust me, I doubt him first). And now, I could knit something (I learn from the elder every wednesday night, when you’re awake, I will give you some of my knits and I will teach you too!). And also I sing and play piano for the church ever sunday morning (apparently my voice is good, have you ever noticed that?)! I sometime teach the little kids how to bake simple cake (of course it looks like hell, but it was fun). Yeah, it all were fun, but not that fun enough to make me laugh and giggling and rolling on floor. It took you to make that girl. Please, wake up already. I need you. I miss you. I don’t want to spend another celebration without you. Christmas and New Year. We should stick together, like Sally and Jack. Forever.

Joshua Raymon Williams.

I know I’ve hit all the bumps, but now I’m standing strong saying, I love you, ’til the end of time. I love you in the morning, in the middle of the day, in the hours we are together, and the hours we are away. “I will love you ’til the end of time. I would wait a million years. Promise you’ll remember that you’re mine”, sing Lana Del Ray in Blue Jeans. So yeah, eventhough it would took me million years (which I really prefer tomorrow) to see your smile and to hear your voices again, it’s okay. I will wait. Because I love you, and you would do the same, right? ( if your answer is no, I will put you back in your sleep!)  

With some tears, and almost drained pen, and nurse’s paper, and giggles and laugh,

Your Sally,

Abigail Martha Jhonson

* enjoy!

-A-

What I missed

‘Maybe you don’t want to be healed. Maybe you want to be left alone to bleed to death.’

That’s what you text me months ago. Your last text to me. Yes, I still have it. Yes, I still keep it. Yes, I don’t have a courage to delete it, nor reply it. Because I am afraid that you’re right. I am afraid that those are what I want. I am so miserable, you said. I am so pathetic, you said. And those words are true. I put my phone next to me, lying in the bed, thinking about you. I want to kiss you and hug you and hold you and play with your hair and sleep with you and make you laugh and stare at you and play games with you and make you win on purpose and cuddle with you at night and eat breakfast with you and then eat lunch and dinner with you and I want to listen to music with you and cry with you and watch dance videos with you and go to class with you and duel blog with you. I don’t know. I just want to do fucking everything with you.

“I missed everything about her. I missed the way she missed me. I miss the way she cared about me. When she send more message when I reply late and she always ask me “ARE YOU BUSY?” that she didn’t know I am busy because I keep thinking about her and planning for something with her. How she act when we have a phone conversations. How she give me flying kisses. The way she say I love you to me. She’s one of a kind. I missed when she did not eat without my reply. And when midnight comes, I miss when she fall asleep because she don’t want to end our conversation. I missed when I did not sleep til 3 am because I know she’ll wake up and I was expecting her message. And then she call me. I missed the way she call our call sign. When she says she don’t want to stop our conversation even if it looks nothing. I missed her smile. The scent of her hair, it makes me smile. And the way we treat each other when we are together. I missed the place where we first met. I missed everything about her. Now, everything has changed :’(“

I closed my blog. Without publish the story. I just put it on the draft. Waiting and hoping that one day she will come back to me. I pushed her out. I pushed someone that cared for me away. Just because I am afraid of her leaving me, just like he other. I am a loser. She doesn’t deserve me. I took something in my drawer. A little thing that I usually use to ease my pain. A razor blade. It shines, like calling me “come come! I could ease your pain! I could draw your thoughts away! Come!”. I close my eyes and feel the blades in my skin. It’s cold. And then, warm. Let me forget her, I whisper.

Sweet Memory

I passed by your house on my usual route home, and I noticed the fence in front of your house was broken; the wood mangled and boards thrown across your lawn like bodies on a battlefield. I tried to imagine the collision that must have happened in my absence. Some reckless jerk, probably drunk behind the wheel, had put so much on the line.  Thank God there weren’t any visible bloodstains on the ground.  I don’t know how much more I could fear intruders, especially the ones who don’t know where they’re going.

“Anna?” I hear someone saying my name. I turn around just to see you standing there. With your brown hair and grey eyes, you smile at me. A sweet one.
“Hello stranger” I said happily. I stare at you, a man in his early 20s, wearing a grey sweater that match your eyes, and teary skinny jeans, and a brown leather shoes that match your hair. You still in style, Daniel. You step forward toward me and hug me. An awkward but warm hug. This kind of hug that contains pains, the one I really am aware of, sadly.
“Wanna catch up for things?” you asked me kindly.
“I don’t know if I can…” I answered honestly. You give me that look, the last-time-we-met-look, full of pain. My chest hurts and seems like a fire is starting.
“Some other time, maybe?” you asked with a smile, which I really know, it’s just a mask.
“Maybe…” I whisper.
“Well, it’s… Really nice to see you again” you said, still giving me a sweet smile. Why won’t you cut it off, Daniel? The fire in my chest is already on its limit.
“You know.. You always know where to find me..” you continue your words and nod to your house. I look deeply in your eyes. There are no lights again in there. Did I am the one who is responsible for that, Daniel? I was wondering the answer until I found my phone vibrates. It’s time.
“See you…” I said and leaving you standing in front of your broken fences.

I know you still stare at my back. I know if I look back, you will smile and wave your hand. I know even though I am already in the cross path, you will still standing there, just to make sure I cross the street safely and walk to my house safe and sound. I know that you will….. The fire is uncontrolled. Tears stream down on my face. I force myself not to look back. I force myself not to wave or smile at you. I force myself not to see you again, the grey eyes that I always look deeply, the brown hair that  I always play with, the soft and deep voice when you call my name. But… My unconscious mind walked me by your house. Make me stared and make some opinion that ain’t necessary. Make me see you again. Make me feel your warm again. I hate myself for doing that. But, I am also grateful. Because you’re not at your worst. I inhale deeply before I open my fence. I know you’re still there. I decided to fight against my promises. I turn my head to you. All I can see is a silhouette of you, with the sun on your background. Beautiful. Then I wipe the tears and enter my house, full of regret.

I passed by your house again.  I could see that the light in your room was on.  And I was afraid of the damages you might have sustained, and I felt a little bit responsible.  There you are, up in your room, still guarding yourself. And here I am, just beyond your window, teetering on the brink of a collision, looking for and through the gaps in the barriers we have found ourselves hiding. Well, maybe we could take some comfort in knowing that even the most confusing and difficult feelings can manifest themselves so literally. I stop my reckless mind and move my legs back to my house. You open your window. I know I shouldn’t stop, but here I am, stop and waiting for you to call my name.

“Anna? Is that you?” you ask from above. I lift my head to see you. You wear your reading glasses which I loved to play with. It frames your eyes perfectly, in my opinion. You give me your smile before you said “wait up”. I hear you turn down the stairs recklessly. Shit. The butterflies in my stomach are back. I hear you running through the door and you open it roughly.
“Hey…” I said when you welcoming me in front of your door.
“You got time?” you ask with a finger sign to go inside your house. I surrender easily. I nodded and my legs walk happily toward you. You open the door widely. I enter your house, for the first time after years. I look around. Messy. And smelly. Your things are covered with white sheets. You keep busy spraying the room with flower spray. I stopped you by taking the spray and put it down. I opened the windows and uncovered your couch. Our favorite one. You take some logs to the fireplace and lightning them. Warmness come.
“Warm enough?” you ask me worriedly. The butterflies are acting again. I just answer you with a smile.
“You’ll be here until Christmas, eh?” you ask.
“New year” I corrected you.
“Great then…” you smile again. I swear to God if I could let the butterflies out, this whole house will full of them.
“So… What are you up to?” I ask about your glasses. You just realized it and put it off.
“Reading…” you answered shyly. The log are creaking. I am nervous. You still stare at me.
“May I hold your hand?” you finally ask. I without doubt give my hand to you. You took it slowly and softly. You put your fingers on the empty space between my fingers. I could see your wrist, there’s a tattoo of my name. You smile widely and look at me. Your grey eyes catch me, I couldn’t move an inch.
“Je vous ai aime jusqu’a la derniere ligne..” whispered you with a sad smile. And….. The butterflies come off. They didn’t stop. I know, Daniel. I know. I buzzed off of your house with tears. I run as fast as I can to my house. This is too much.

We met in the lake near our block. You, still wearing the jeans, your favorite band tees, a red and grey baseball jacket, and pairs of awesome doc marten. You smile at me. You hold my hand without asking my permission like last night. We stop near the lake. I take off my shoes and sit in the dock, with my feet hanging down the lake. Cold. You lay beside me. With your hands become your pillow. And there again, I can see your wrist with my name on it. The sun was setting up, but still, the cold breeze. I look around and see some people are like us, chilling and talking about things. Some people are playing with the cold water. Some people are in the little sail in the middle of the lake. Some people are taking some photos. I take a deep breath. Let my soul feels the cold. You take my hand. The warmth comes inside. I look at you. You close your beautiful grey eyes and put my hand in your chest. I can feel the beat of yours. I smile and whisper “just like old time”. You open your eyes. Our eyes met. You give me a sweet smile before you speak.

“I love you. I love every little thing about you – your sexy smile with your pink lips, the sound of your voice, the magic in your green eyes, the chestnut with lovely smell hair you had….” you stop for a while.
“I love your gentle touch and the warmth I feel at your side… I love dreaming about you. I love discovering you and letting go with you. I love each and every once in a lifetime moments I share with you even if that moments are just by looking at you from afar… these past years, yesterday, today, tomorrow, forever.” continue you and put an end of your speech with your smile. But i know you too well, Daniel. It’s not the sweet smile, it’s the same smile years ago, the day I tell you to stop loving me, the day I leave you behind to the state to pursue my dreams, the day…. I lost you.
“Anna?” someone called me. I turn my head. A beautiful girl with blonde hair. Jessica.
“Hey Jess..” I reply politely. You didn’t move an inch.
“I don’t know you’re in town. For how long?” she asked and let her self sits besides me. You close your eyes again.
“Until new year. I should be back to work the first day of the new year” I answer. She plays with her wavy hair.
“You used to play here with him a lot” suddenly she say something about you. You still acting numb.
“Yeah. We met here for the first time, and it’s a cool place to hang, so…” I don’t finish my words.
“You two were a perfect couple..” she continues her words.
“You are tough, Anna…” she said, meaning it. I just can smile.
“No wonder he loved you so much. Ah. I see you in the memorial then. I couldn’t stand the sun. You go, right?” she tries to look cheerful. I nodded. She said goodbye and I watch those people again, with you, beside me.

I passed by your house. Wondering are you still there. But, there’s no lights on. I keep walking to the our block park. People are already there. I move to the front row. Some people greet me with nodding their heads or smile, pity one. I sit the front chair, next to the stage. And I see you. Taking your favorite guitar and testing it. “This song is for Anna. My favorite.” you said with a smile. The fire in my heart and butterflies in my stomach are racing to the top. You’re playing “Playing Favorites” by The Starting Line, the acoustic one. You change every “California” with New York. “wait for me to move out west, it’s okay if you don’t. I hope you know you’re my favorite thing, about the west coast. I wish I stayed, I hope you wait. So here I am counting down the days, ’till New York comes”. Your grey eyes are shining. “You know Anna.. I love you. I really do” you said happily. Then the lights go off. My tears are falling. I hate myself. If only I didn’t go….

“Today, after seven years, Anna Stevens, comes back to town. It’s been a long time, we knew. But that video Daniel made, is really meant for you. It’s tape on the day before the tragedy happen. We never played it before, because you were never be here. And today, you finally come. Thank you Anna. Thank you, people who always come to this memorial I held. So, ladies and gentlemen, let’s pray for Daniel’s peace and happiness with God.” said your brother in the stage.

The stage now is full with you and me. We are in photos. A sweet song is playing. In rainy days, when your money are enough to come to state, you force yourself drive miles and miles away, but, before you could reach the town sign, a drunk driver with his truck hit you. Meanwhile me, it’s raining in NYC too, having a cup of coffee, collecting a courage to call you, not knowing a single thing until your brother called me. My tears couldn’t stop. The fire inside my heart is tearing me apart. The butterflies come off of my stomach. And suddenly I remember the continuation of your words in the lake years ago. “I love you, not only for what you are, but for what I am when I am with you. I love you, not only for what you have made of yourself, but for what you are making of me.”.

** Phew. This is my newest story. A sad one. I don’t know, I just love sad love story. Anyway, happy reading! And go ahead comment it 😉

-A-

Rambling Thought

Sometimes I feel as if I’m alive and breathing, but not there. I find myself clearing the smile from my face the moment someone looks away, my answers becoming shorter and my laughter a little bit more forced everyday. I keep staring into space, lost in this little world of loneliness and sadness. I’ve unintentionally built for myself over the years. I want to be around people, but only a certain kind- people who will comfort me and tell me everything will be alright, because I’m not so sure it will be anymore. When people ask me what’s wrong, I just tell them I’m tired, knowing that they could never understand. I don’t feel like myself, you know? I don’t feel comfortable in my skin, almost as if it’s not mine. It’s like I’m inhabiting this empty shell, deprived of soul and creativity.

Things I used to love I don’t anymore, my dreams fading like ink off of flesh. I’m scared of so much, but also couldn’t care less at the same time. I know I’m loved and I know that people care, but it’s almost like I don’t care that they do anymore. I need more than this world can give me, however odd that may sound. It’s like I’m in this native land, trying to find my way home, wherever that may be. Slowly at first, and then all too quickly, the world became dark.  And it was there, in that moment, as I lifted the glass orb to my eye, that my reflection betrayed a frightening image of the future. No longer would youth and courage be my sword and shield, the fragility of a life now spent, sat in their place. I felt now, for the first time the ticking of life’s clock, the unyielding pendulum that serves with each swing to draw us ever closer to eternity’s inevitable maw, an all-consuming blackness that welcomes us home with a specious grin, completing the circle of our existence.

In time I fear I may become accustomed to this new and unwelcome vision, but for now I must accept, like countless other have, that this is growing up.  Life is like that sometimes. It does what it wants and either brings you along or leaves you hanging. If you sit around and wait on life you’ll be sorely disappointed by the knowledge that everyone else has been living while you waited around for nothing at all. That’s when it hit me. I could sit here and wait or get the help I needed. Right now, life was challenging me with the choice.   They don’t understand. Sure, I should stop dwelling in the past. I’ve also noticed that my personality has changed. A lot. I used to always smile and laugh and make jokes. Nowadays, I just keep to myself. I hardly ever smile anymore, and if I do, it’s just usually fake ones to make people not worry about me. I get angry often. I frequently lash out at my friends over stupid stuff. I find something to nitpick about them, and I just start bashing. I don’t find many of hobbies entertaining anymore. All I ever want to do now is eat and sleep. I hardly ever want to go out. Overall, I’ve become a stranger even to myself. Who is this grim person that has consumed me?

* Wait, what the heck did I just wrote? Been a long time since I wrote make my mind… weird. Even more weird. Anyway, happy reading!

-A-

Hontou ni, Gomenasai~

Yes. I am sorry. So sorry for not updating my blog.

The last time I wrote was November 2. Then, five days after that I went back to my hometown because my boyfriend’s sister was having a wedding (which will I tell in the next post). Then, a week after, I got back here, but two days later my mother was coming. A week passed by, she went home. Well, not so fast, with her last night in Yogya, I got sick. And today I just got better. I could get off of the bed and do things. I almost went to hospital (which I really don’t want to), thank God I didn’t. Phew. But, in my sick and a bit busy time, I could write some stories and poems in my wattpad account 😉 Which probably will I wrote here too 🙂

So….

Sorry and, wish me getting well soon! 🙂

-A-