Because I don't like veggie, so is my son. So lately I tried to inhibit habit of eating veggie to Malicca. Because I am working, breakfast is the only time we can dine together. So, eating veggie let us in the morning.
The thing about cooking veggie is, it looks simple but it is hard to cook. Over-cooked will only ruin the vitamins and its colors. Thanks to Ibu Kembar who gave me the tips to cook sauted broccoli garlic. And bigger thanks, because Malicca likes it even more.
The steps are easy.
Boil water and cook broccoli until its color becomes darker and a bit soft. Dry the broccoli and put them on a dish.
Next, get some vegetable oil or olive oil into the frying pan. Put chopped garlic and saute. Put a little bit margarine and salt. Do not wait until the garlic is brown. Brownish color means over-cooked and it tastes a bit bitter. Cook it half-done then pour the salty margarine sauce onto the broccoli and top with grated cheese if you like.
Life should not be that hard. Whether if you are a little kid
and doesn’t know what to do or whether you are old and sick, life could have
been simpler after all.
Why do people get married in the first place? Why do people
have kids in the end? Why do people work for a living, but they don’t have a
life? Why do people busy with themselves and forgetting that they are part of
their family, a root of who they are and where they are from.
Every family has its own story. Like a unique code that’s
entitled on our last name. Unfortunately we only remember the story as opening and ending, leaving the rest as stories of our own.
Why when we reach productive era, we act like there are so
many important things to do? As if we are the president who run the country, as
if someone is going to die if we skip a day from our office. Why do we always
lack of time for our parents as if they will always be young and healthy as
ever?
Our love to our family might last forever, but not their
physical.
Far we have gone, today. Let's take a step back for a while, to embrace where we belong. To be home.
It is amazing how your brain easily forgets the pain as you find a better replacement.
It is amazing how your heart easily forgives as you find a more exciting things that suddenly appear.
And you would laugh yourself, while saying "I have been through that" and feel glad that you turned out fine nonetheless.
God, you have created such a perfect creature called human. They heal themselves.
Rumah ini luasnya masih sama seperti kemarin, dua hari yang lalu, masih sama seperti pertama kali dibangun. Tidak ada yang bergeser, tidak ada yang mengkisut atau memekar. Tapi entah kenapa, hari ini rasanya seperti rumah ini tiga kali lebih luas. Tiga kali lebih lapang sehingga menyapunya hampir menghabiskan seluruh tenagaku. Entah kenapa, jalinan-jalinan benang pel yang sesungguhnya telah taut menaut tidak bisa segera menyelesaikan mili demi mili lantai ini hingga habislah seluruh tenagaku mengusapnya.
Jari-jariku, tidak habis untuk menghitung berapa jumlah orang yang tinggal di dalamnya. Tapi kenapa nafasku ikut tersengal-sengal mengikuti putaran baling mesin cuci yang menggiling pakaian serasa laundri kelurahan.
Lelah memang lebih cepat terasa dan terasa sesak saat kita merasa sendiri. Ya, ... merasa.
Kalau sakit pun, seringkali sebaris pertanyaan "Gimana, sudah baikkan?" bisa menyembuhkan. Karena kita tahu, kita tidak sendiri. Ada seseorang nun jauh di luar sana yang sedang memikirkan keadaan kita.
Pernahlah, sekali atau dua kali mencuri dengar mereka yang
sedang berkeluh kesah tentang pekerjaannya. Lain waktu, tentang bosnya. Atau,
tentang kebijakan perusahaan dimana mereka bekerja. Atau tentang gaji, lembur, banyak macamlah. Hal ini makin
lama makin sering kesebut. Entah karena memang hal ini menjadi problem semua
pegawai tepatnya pekerja di Jakarta, atau memang hal ini sedang berakrab-akrab
ria sama ijk.
Tadi pagi misalnya. Aku mencuri dengar dua orang karyawati
di lift gedung. Si A lagi bercerita kemarin dia jadi ‘tempat sampah’ pacarnya
yang curhat tentang pekerjaannya.
A bilang, lelakinya itu sampai menitikkan air mata (aihhh...) saat
bercerita bahwa dia ditegur oleh atasannya karena datang terlambat. Dia bilang,
dia jarang sekali terlambat. Kalaupun terlambat paling hanya 3 atau 5 menit
dari waktu kerja yang ditentukan (yaitu jam 8). Suatu pagi, dia merasa lapar
sekali. Jadi, sebelum masuk dia mampir sebentar ke warung depan kantor untuk
sarapan. Begitu masuk, jam sudah menunjukkan pukul 08.15 pagi dan ditegurlah ia
oleh sang supervisor. Mutunglah deh. Saat curhat dengan si A itulah akhirnya
cowok itu mengutarakan niatnya untuk berhenti bekerja di perusahaan tersebut.
Dan dengan alasan ‘ketidakbahagiaan’, si A mengizinkan si cowok untuk resign.
Lain waktu lagi, seorang teman curhat juga tentang etos
kerja anak buahnya. Yang mana, sebagian dari mereka tidak memiliki tanggung
jawab dengan pekerjaan mereka. Seringkali beralasan sakit atau saudaranya
meninggal (mungkin untuk yang ke sekian kalinya si nenek atau kakek atau bibi
atau paman meninggal dan dijadikan alasan untuk tidak masuk kantor). Sayangnya, di kantor temenku itu sistemnya kaya mesin. Tiap orang dalam tim mengerjakan pekerjaan yang beda. Jadi kalau ada yang nggak masuk satu orang aja, terhentilah semua prosesnya.
Akhirnya, dengan berat hati temanku harus
memberikan Surat Peringatan kepada anak itu. Yang mana, justru ditantang balik
untuk segera memberikan SP-3 karena sebenarnya dia juga udah nggak betah kerja
di perusahaan tersebut. *Kemudian hening ... krik krik krik....*
Oh, well.
Untuk si A yang menitikkan air mata saat curhat sama
pacarnya, mungkin niatnya untuk resign bukan karena satu hal tersebut. Pasti
ada deh hal lain yang sifatnya akumulatif dan dia udah nggak tahan lagi untuk
menghadapi beban-beban itu. Begitu pula halnya dengan si anak yang minta di
SP-3. Pasti banyak ketidakpuasan atau inspirasi-inspirasi yang terhambat sampai dia udah sebegitu muaknya bekerja di sana.
Terus salah siapa, dong? Salah dia? Salah mereka? Salah temen-temennya?
Di sini bukan nyari siapa yang salah siapa yang bener. Melainkan, mau nambah-nambah pertanyaan aja (Gak bantu! | Emang. I know). Seperti misalnya, apa iya kita sudah sebegitu lemahnya
sampai hal-hal kecil dan memuncak yang justru tidak berhubungan dengan pekerjaan, malah sebenarnya
jadi sumber masalah dalam kehidupan bekerja?
Pertanyaannya sekarang, apa iya sulit sekali untuk membuat
kita merasa cukup dan terpuaskan?
Ada satu pertanyaan yang menghantui aku waktu aku lagi
asyik metikin rumput liar di halaman rumah minggu lalu. Konon katanya cari kerja itu susah,
tapi kenapa kok nyari pembantu juga minta ampun susah? Apa sebenarnya yang susah itu
adalah nyari orang yang mau kerja?
Apa sebenarnya kita sekarang ini mikirnya mau enaknya aja dan merasa berhak
untuk selalu mendapatkan lebih atas apa yang telah kita kerjakan? Ataukah ego kita ini yang udah tumbuh tambah
besar? Tapi ya itu, cuma ego doang aja yang tambah gede, yang laen nggak ikutan -_-
Dulu, orang tua kita bisa betah puluhan tahun kerja di
kantoran. Entah itu kantor pemerintahan atau swasta. Bukan berarti kita harus stay di perusahaan yang sama sampe puluhan taun, tapi ... apa iya kita kalah kuat mental dibanding mereka?
Atau memang kita, penduduk Jakarta, sudah sebegitu stresnya
dan permasalahan sudah sebegitu kompleksnya sampe hal-hal kecil aja bisa bikin
bête?
Tapi gimana, sebelum ada pilihan musti dikerjain juga, kan?
Dan setiap pilihan yang mementingkan diri sendiri itu, pasti harus ada
kontribusi kepentingan orang lain yang diabaikan. Jadi, sementara belum ada pilihan,
ya sudahlah yah … don’t sweat little things. Otak udah tipis dipake mikir hal-hal
kecil yang bikin kesel tapi skill untuk nyaring prioritas justru nggak diupgrade - upgrade.
Let's just do it, dan kalau bisa, perluas pilihan di tengah jalan.
Ps:
Kita di sini termasuk aku, and this is a little note for
myself as well.
She was a butterfly. She
flew and soared high, too high she burnt her wings
Butterfly never lives long.
But she felt grateful, at least she was once before.
She was not brave. She had
to.
She did not want to be
strong. She had to.
She expected a hero, but her
own shadow left her in the dark.
A faith, was all she got.
“It is hope that make people
live” her father said. And who are the one you can count on if it is not yourself?
Amongst hard rain and
stormy nights, she always believed there would be sunny day. If it is not
today, it might be tomorrow. If it is not tomorrow, it will someday.
One day, she felt a pain on her back.
They tucked her over and over, for days and nights she felt the pain of things she could
not see.
She decided to take the feeling for granted. Like it's just another pain, so what. Like it will go away as she flushed in the morning. Like it will be forgotten as she would be distracted with other things. Like other unfinished business in life. She just let it be.
She thought she was running in circle. She was wrong. That day she knew, the things on her back were the things that would give her another chance To make a little jump, to somersault in the air, to sing, to have a crash landing in one of those bad days To live, basically.
One day when I was teaching him, I drew a picture + the writing underneath (above picture). Then I asked him: "How do you read this, Malicca?" Malicca: BeHa Me: -_-
But then, a few minutes later; he completes my drawing (below picture).
“Some people choose to keep running in circle. Every time a chance comes to break the circle, they respond it slowly as if the universe always runs as they expected it to be. When they missed the chance, they will say, “I did try my best, it is not meant to be mine.”
That was a thought I typed on my Path a few minutes ago. Not long after it was uploaded, my Whatsapp rang. “Was your status for me?” she asked. I said, “No, not at all. It was for all of us.”
Being a passive Twitterist, I noticed people in my timeline are just trashing most of the time. They made a rant about their unhappiness, or curses on twitter or many times, just a one-off buzz on the messenger leaving me a message like “I am bursting into tears now.” Or “I am so not happy.” Or “I want him, only him.” Or "What if this and what if that." – things I thought I would only found in the life of a teenager.
I sometimes wanted to slap them and said “You have been through nothing, bitch. Be strong, there are more unexpected and destructive things might come to you one day. Have you ever lost a kid? Have you ever lost someone you have been living together for quite some times? Have you ever tried to be a single mother? Have you ever lived with a daily basis income? Have you ever lived in 3 hours electrical supply everyday? Have you ever lived in conflicting area? Have you ever heard your son told you that he was hungry but there was nothing left to eat? Have you ever lived on your own in a strange land and you have to create your support system back from the scratch?
Then why do you still brag about traffic you know there will be traffic jam everywhere everyday, your stupid boss, your not-so-into-you-boyfriend/girlfriend, ... but do nothing about it?
Does someone have to be in their lowest point to learn that there are more important things to think of? I hope not. But apparently, experience is the most primitive way for human to learn. Go test your own limit, then. Be playful with your hatreds and hurtful. You are going to be fine, though. If it is not bitter, how can you be stronger? But don't be too long dingle-dangle in that phase. I know the dramatic feeling of being broken hearted, but hey … have a faith in life. Have a faith things will turn out fine. If it is not, it will someday.
Today, is not the first time my son gave me wild flowers that grow in the yard. He did this before, and the feeling of receiving something from your flesh and blood is amazing. Always amazing. He picked the weed flower himself and gave them to me. After that, he would ask me to put them in the little jar of water.
On another day, when we were about to sleep, he softly stroke my forehead. Exactly the spot in the center of my both eyes and told me to sleep. After that, he would kiss me good night and fell to sleep.
On another lovely day, he would run across the room to me, bringing his drawing. Most of them were sketches of cars. Sometimes he drew the car in front of the house, under the stormy rain, on its way down the volcano, and sometimes he added me in his sketch. He always put me in skirt with red color. He said I am more beautiful if I wear skirt. Then he asked me to twist myself around like a ballerina and so my skirt would bloom like an umbrella.
On another busy street or malls, he would held my hand as if he would never let go of me. As if he said "This is my girl, don't mess with her."
In a quite night and nobody but just us, I screamed because of a big spider, or more often, a cockroach. . He would come over and told me things were going to be just fine for I got him. Unless it was not a spider, he would get a sandal and kill the bug.
There were times when I got tense because of him. After saying blatant things and the consequence he must take, I would usually left him for a while. He would stare, just stare at me. Suddenly he hugged me and cried. At that time, I knew he was saying sorry with his own way.
There were also some moments when he accidentally hurt me. "Sorry sorry!" and he would kissed my bruise right away.
Oh well, ... guess I am the luckiest girl to have a man like him. I am so very lucky. And I thank those people who taught my son to treat me like a princess, because I know these things will not happen instantly. He would not act these out of the blue, because kids are good in mimicking and I always grateful if he mimicked good and sweet things.
I love you Malicca, ... I don't know how would my life be without you.
I did not continue my last level of English skill, CAE, with
British Council certificate
I haven’t started my sewing project, let alone of finishing
it
I did not continue my Bali dance lesson I did not finish my meal sometimes
There are many other things in life I did not finish them. Despite of all responsible reasons or illogical because' that made me did them,
still they are parts that shape me to become the person of who I am today. But there is this one thing I love doing. Always doing. Luckily,
has been giving me money for my family since twelve years ago. It is the only
thing I had never take a course on or took a formal school. I just did and still doing it. Writing.
My first poem was about a banana tree and I got loads of
laugh when reading it in front of my cousins. The second one was about mother’s
day that I gave it to my mom and she did not even take a look at it. The next
writings were in the form of a diary and I had been doing it for 12 years. Then as I learned to fall in love, I started to write more poems, most of them are twisted and complex absurd poems. I
collected those poems and short stories and made a handmade book of my own when I
was 21 and joined Bunga Matahari mailing list and published a book together in
2004. I joined advertising and worked as a copywriter and won the best copywriting in my third year in the industry. Now,
all of my writing comes in the form of blogs. Hopefully, I will someday publish a book of my own.
So, is it passion? Is passion something that you have been always doing without you even noticing it is your passion? Is passion will soon be ruined once you got into an
institution and feel obliged to do it? If it is, then I am one of the luckiest person in the world to do something that I love and I got paid for it. If it is not, then maybe I will not finish it and writing will just be my other way of searching what I really looking for.
Of all the moment of mommahood I have experienced, from pregnancy to baby and toddler times, ... all is wonderful. All is unforgetable and I don't mind to experience them again.
Now Malicca is 4 years and 9 months. I often heard that 4-5 years are the years of rebellious. When yes is a no, no is a yes, they would always say "I don't know" first on the top of all questions. It is the moment when asking them to do something is such a production. "You can do it yourself", "Later on", "After these (I mean THESE), ... so yeah, ... it takes forever you ended up do it yourself. It is also the moment of asking WHY comes first. Why these, why that, how do you know? Who told you that? What are the proves you are saying things? Oh well ... it is the era of playing Devil's Advocate as well.
But come to think of it, this is the moment when I feel the most cute of all. The little womb who were in my tummy who I always took anywhere you went, the little baby I always hugged and sang to sleep, has now grown to a little human I can talk to. Yes, this is why I love the moment they said is a rebellious moment.
I don't think they are rebellious. They are just mimicking what we have said to them. They connect the dots and their logic leaps way above what we expected we (often) cannot argue. Of course, who can argue our self? And that little man or woman in front of you is just a mirror of you. Yes, we often forget that.
But here is what touches me the most, that they start to express what they feel about the world. Questions, objections, ... including love.
There were the moments when Titan hugged me tight out of the blue. There were moments when we were about to sleep and he asked me a question that erased all of my tiredness that day, "Bunda, ... bunda tahu nggak Titan sayang sama Bunda?" There were moments when he helped me cleaned the house. There were moments when he said "Let me do it, I can do it too!" There were moments when he woke me up in the morning "Bunda, sudah siang bangun yuk." ... even the moments when he said "Bunda, Titan udah punya pacar namanya Putri Yogi."
*Smiling*
I know these moments will not be here forever. He would soon grow up, faster than I can imagine. He would start spending his time more with his friends. He would start giving me a rule not to kiss or hug him in front of his friends. He would one day bring a girl home and I would look at her from top to toe full of wonder.
Being a mother, a decision I never regret and I am so grateful of the trust Allah has given me. I know these moments are just the beginning, there are still so many surprising moments and unbelievable feelings that might happen being a mother.
Menyambut purnama ke lima kamu di Jakarta, kamu pasti masih
mencoba untuk beradaptasi dengan kehidupanmu yang baru di sini. Dengan
orang-orang yang baru, cuaca yang baru, iklim yang baru, politik dan etos kerja
yang baru yang mungkin tidak pernah kamu temui sebelumnya.
Purnama ke lima, dan kamu bertanya apakah kamu yang menua.
Kenapa? Karena semua jauh dari yang pernah terkira? Karena ternyata semangat
dan keadaan fisikmu melorot jauh dibanding bayanganmu sebelumnya? Karena ion
positifmu perlahan namun pasti terus dan terus bertabrakan dengan karbon
monoksida yang kamu hirup setiap hari? Rasa eforia yang berserempetan dengan
kemacetan di jalan dan ketidakefektifan meeting di setiap menit?
Dulu kamu bingung, kenapa Jakarta penuh dengan perselingkuhan.
Saat itu, aku hanya terdiam. Dari orang kaya sampai bapak supir taksi pun
ceritanya semua sama, pasangan mereka berselingkuh.
Tapi coba kamu pikirkan, berapa banyak waktu yang dihabiskan
di luar rumah? Jauh jauh jauh lebih banyak daripada waktu yang dihabiskan
bersama keluarga. Kita bekerja setidaknya 8 jam sehari, itu pun minimal. 8 jam
untuk tidur. Sisa 8 jam yang lain? Setidaknya minimal 3 jam dimakan macetnya
Jakarta. Sisanya, benar-benar yang hanya tersisa, itulah yang kita habiskan
untuk keluarga. Bukan tidak cinta. Aku yakin mereka tentu pulang membawa sejuta rasa dari kantor menuju rumah. Tapi seperti sekeranjang telur yang terhimpit saat berdesakan di bus, rasa itu begitu ringkih hingga mungkin tidak sampai di rumah dengan selamat. Tak sengaja terhantam motor yang serampangan. Atau dicopet. Atau tak sengaja terjatuh. Lelah. Pulang hanya membawa cangkang dan niatan pernah punya rasa. Dan itu, tentu tidak cukup.
Dulu kamu bertanya kenapa orang Jakarta senangnya mencari
hiburan ke mall dan nongkrong ngalor-ngidul menikmati lifestyle coffee sama orang lain, ketimbang
ngobrol di rumah atau berkegiatan di rumah. Jujur, aku tidak tahu. Apakah
dengan cara seperti itukah sebagian besar dari kami membayar rasa bersalah atas
waktu yang tersisa untuk keluarga? Dengan kemewahan jalan-jalan, belanja dan
makan-makan mall?
Dulu kamu bertanya, kenapa kami lebih suka mengirim
anak-anak ke Time Zone dan mengizinkan mereka mematukkan mata pada iPad
daripada mengobrol di rumah. Bertukar cerita, play pretend, berkebun bersama, membuat
rumah pohon, melukis awan, berkemah dan meneropong bintang pada malam hari.
Jawabku, itulah yang aku rindukan. Karena seperti itulah masa kecilku.
Purnama ke lima, dan aku rasa kamu pun mulai melupakan
pertanyaan-pertanyaanmu. Kamu mulai menjadi seperti kami yang kebanyakan.
Orang-orang yang tidak memiliki waktu, atau tidak ingin membuat waktu.
Orang-orang yang terperangkap dalam lingkaran setan di sebuah negeri yang tidak
akan kemana-mana. Kami yang menghirup udara yang kotor. Kami yang merayapi
detik di tengah kemacetan dan menghabiskan waktu di meeting-meeting tidak
efektif. Kami yang terekspos drama bad mood di twitter. Kami yang hanya pulang ke rumah
berupa raga, karena jiwa kami terhempas dan berserakan dimana-mana.
Kota ini berputar hebat dan cepat menggiring kita ke tengah
mata badai. Tidak tahu dimana berawal dan kapan berakhir, tiba-tiba kita sudah
berputar di dalamnya dan terus menghujam.
Kalau aku jadi kamu, aku akan memeluk diriku dan juga mereka
yang aku cinta dan mencintaiku erat-erat. Menjaganya supaya tidak pecah dan
menghempas tak tentu arah. Supaya aku bisa pulang, karena hanya mereka yang
tidak akan pernah membuatku tersasar meski berada di dalam pusaran.
Ini baru purnama ke lima, sayang. Masih banyak purnama-purnama lain. Siapkan diri, tapi jangan takut karena kamu tidak sendiri.
Hello,
Saturday. It’s been a while since I last wrote you under the warm sunlight,
upon the greeneries of my backyard. This is a silent Saturday, I must say. Not
in a good sense, not in a bad sense as well. It is just the way it is.
My
32th year of circling the sun’s journey will end soon, it got me think that whoever mentioned that we cannot live the life like how we always want is brilliant and honest. Because it is true. In contrary, the more
I don’t want to live the particular life is the more my life heading to. In that
sense, I should stop expecting and judging and start living life with the
eyes of a child.
Another
thing I picked up is, that it is so hard to wish someone to change as hard as how
hard to change our self is. Sometimes, even though people are different but
they keep giving the same effect to us. Is it a good sense? Is it a bad sense?
Well, it is not about good or bad, it is just the way it is.
If
we die one day and by then we would have learnt our life thoroughly, maybe we would
get all the conclusion that life is a cycle that goes over and over without even we realized it is actually a pattern. A pattern that if only we have realized it we would not need to find all answers, because they were all there. Without even realizing it as
well, we are actually the eyes of the storms that spread the exact amount of
gravity to make people give you the same result no matter who they are.
Maybe, lyfe is just like
a music playlist. It is a podcast with shuffle and repeat mode.
Hari ini aku berada di rumah. Padahal, tidak
biasanya aku berada di rumah. Biasanya aku pergi ke kantor meninggalkan buah
hatiku di rumah. Tampaknya, berada di rumah masih menjadi hal yang mewah
untukku dan ternyata aku masih belum bisa menebusnya. Masih mimpi.
Giliran
aku berkesempatan ada di rumah, seperti hari ini, adalah ketika aku terpaksa
harus berada di rumah. Kali ini karena sakit. Sedih sekali rasanya. Saat kesempatan
itu ada, namun aku tidak memiliki tenaga untuk bisa berfungsi sebagaimana
seharusnya. Tidak bisa menggendong satelitku karena lemas. Tidak bisa bermain
karena terlalu lama berdiri pun aku sakit kepala.
Cucian piring bertumpuk sebanyak tumpukan
dedaunan di halaman. Mataku sepat melihatnya. Tapi apa daya tenaga terbatas.
Ingin makan ini ingin makan itu, tapi berdiri menunggu jerangan air pun rasanya
lemas.
Sedih. Akhirnya aku tertidur menelan pusing. Mengusung
mimpi yang masih terkungkung.
Anak.
Aha! Bunda ada di rumah hari ini. Aku senang
sekali, tralala trilili… gembira hati ini. Biasanya bundaku pergi ke kantor. Akhir
bulan, dia membawa uang untuk sekolahku, untuk susuku, untuk mainan-mainanku,
dan untuk pupur dan gincu-gincunya. Tapi hari ini Bunda ada di rumah,
asyiiiiiik!
Oh, aki membisikkan sesuatu ke telingaku.
Katanya Bunda sakit. Tapi aneh, tidak ada luka di tubuhnya. Sakit apa memangnya
Bunda? Tampaknya ia masih bisa berjalan, masih bisa bicara, masih bisa
bernyanyi walau suaranya pelan. Ah, Bunda tidak sakit ah. Mumpung Bunda ada di
rumah, aku ingin bermain dengannya. Ingin dimasakkan spaghetti kesukaan dan
pancake bertabur gula. Aku ingin dimandikan, aku ingin semua-mua dengannya,
mumpung Bunda ada di rumah. Karena besok-besok, ia akan pergi ke kantor lagi. Tapi lagi-lagi aku ingat, kata aki bunda
sakit. Aku harus hati-hati, aku tidak boleh ini itu untuk sementara waktu.
Sedih. Akhirnya aku pun tertidur di
sampingnya sambil mengesampingkan keinginanku.
More than complaining about how you missed the midnight sale,
or the iPhone 4s ridiculous price in Indonesia, or Jakarta’s traffic, or your
meeting journey the whole day, or pencitraan on twitter, or your failed diet,
lifestyle coffee and gym, or more than thinking of how to escape routines and
problems.
I used to write love letter to you, everyday. Maybe because
that was all I could do. Then imagined the existence of you. If I
lucky, I would met you in my dream or had a slight vision of you.
Now, there are so many things I can do with you. And I miss
writing you again.
But how can I write?
Letter H becomes a 'hug', U becomes 'us' and letter G becomes 'giggles'
that can’t stop bursting from your lips.
What is with falling down.
Can you avoid?
Or the question should be:
Should you avoid?
Why didn’t you let the wind tore you apart
Why didn’t you let your out loud scream choked you
Why didn’t you let yourself lost your senses
and let the hamster in your brain runs backward; giving you sceneries of the darkest nights
Isn’t nice to follow the gravity?
Isn’t it nice to think nothing but the deeper ground?
Crash. Crushed. Cursed.
Die.
Dust.
Naught.
It’s what you were, until you start over.
