English · My Blabber Side · My Chaotic Philosophy

I Wondering…

How much mistakes needed until one can get it right?
How much tears needed until one can get the smile?
How much pains needed until one can get a victory?
How much scars needed until one deserve true love?
How much lies needed until one can stay on honesty?
How much jealous needed until one can be at peace?
How much insecurities needed until one can stand proudly?
How much sleepless nights needed until one can have a rest safe and sound?

How much sacrifices do we need?
To be alive.
To feel loved.
To be accepted.
To feel recognized.
To be happy.
To feel like we belong to something.

After all this time, how much sacrifices do we need?
And when will it reach to the end?

 

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English · My Blabber Side · My Chaotic Philosophy

Happy Birthday, A Clumsy 22-Year-Old Girl

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The 22-year-old me is an introvert, an acute one. A random MBTI tests all over internet said either she is 84% or 96% introvert. If it’s true then it’s not a shocking fact as she suffered a lot from her social anxiety. She was even hide in the restroom just to catch a breath at least twice a day during her the first three months of work life.

The 22-year-old me would be a national champion of overthinking competition, if it’s any. She is a B-type which people would called a happy-go-lucky type. So basically her nature is a mix-up. An overthinker B-type, she would declare. It’s quite not easy to live in kind of state of mind which contains thousands of opposite traits and behaviours. She has to dealing with voices in her head that arguing each another everytime. That’s why practical thinking is not her style, hence it doubles up the hardness of life for her. Poor soul.

The 22-year-old me still avoiding phone calls, messages, people; glitching from responsibilities; and escaping from real life. The 15-year-old her was ever composed a song titled “Escapist”, it tells about a person who doesn’t belong anywhere and can’t handle real life, and she still think that song compatible for her personal self even until now.

The 22-year-old me was longing for a perfect romance life, everyday, everytime, tho she never verbally admit it. Being in touch with the other one whom she considered as ‘boy’ or ‘guy’ makes her awkward hence this traits often translated as a ‘cold-and-cool-and-not-interested’ trait by the person she deeply longing. What an irony.

The 22 year-old me was ever felt so depressed that she nearly got her hands to alcohol can in the groceries and even keep eyes on which cigarettes to smoke. She never drink neither smoke before as it’s encounter her principles of life. But that depression almost eat her up to bones. Luckily, she then considered yoghurt and glico pocky tastes better than alcohol and cigarettes, so, well, attempt of rebellion: failed.

The 22-year-old me still speak to her imaginary friends. Yes, she has. And not only one but SIX instead. One of them is a wolf named Pandemonium and one other is Sora from Kingdom Hearts game. People might said that she is a schizoid because she talks to herself a lot as if she actually talks to a ‘friends’. And she refused to called them ‘imaginary friends’. “They are my guardian angels”, instead she replied.

Birthday is not her thing since 5 years ago. She loves a quiet and lonely birthday where everybody forget about it and behave like usual to her. She hates surprise or party or other kind of celebration because spotlight freaking her out and make her anxious.

And this birthday, too. Except she finally leaked it out by revealing her big wish on her instagram account, which her friends apparently recognized and makes it not a ‘quiet-birthday’ anymore. But this time, no problemo.

The 22-year-old me now have become a 23-year-old me today. As the 23-year-old approaching, she anxious a LOT. She hasn’t obtain a big and meaningful thing that she thought every 23’s people has to. “I will be 23 yet I’m still an useless potato, what should I do?!”, she mumbled panickly everyday since April began. But when the day come, peculiarly everything happens just like that. It’s not painful at all. Being 23-year-old feels strangely not different as being 22-year-old.

Being 23-year-old doesn’t mean that she have to evolved to become an extroverted, and stable, and rich, and wise either. I think, she will just stay this way. People change and her, too, will unnoticedly changes. It doesn’t matter the age. Age is just a number. But the process to be a mature person can’t be started or paused right away as if you’re installing a phone app. It happens as the time goes, slowly.

Happy Birthday to her.

She has a lot and numerous cool dreams to give up now so, 23, please be nice to her.

 

English · My Blabber Side · My Chaotic Philosophy · My Writer Side

Strive, Conquer, and Else

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Just everytime. I gets too emotional. Flood of Emotions.

A mental breakdown. Huge disappointment. Tired. Fear. Excite. Anger. Laugh. Perplexed.

Coward. Swirling. Comes gliding across the sky. Swim in the terrace. Knocking in. Bash the door.

Somehow a revelation. Awakening. Bright. Like a sun. Dancing. Shining. Shimmering.

The hope. The dreams. A good visualization in the head and mind. Flowing through the veins. Bringing all the life. Soul gets pumped. Energized.

I can’t really describe, nor giving example and illustration. It just…. something. Not losing nor gaining. Or maybe both losing and gaining.

I’m not talk in rhymes, not even trying. I just can’t figured out the order of the words. It’s messy right here. Everything is mixed. The colors blend into one. I’m blackout. Either full or blank. Or in between. Or none of those.

I listen to some songs. Not to facilitating the emotional conditions. Just needed some melodical tones. To make the colors less dark, to saturating. Merely as backsound. Eventho an unrelated backsound. The score director must be a worst one. I am the worst one.

Thus we catch the breath. Living in vacumm space. We scream, we light up. It’s undesirable, this kind of roaller coaster. All I can feel is just a banging head. Beating motion.

I’m in the middle of vertigo. Your eyes moves diagonally. Your voice draw a circular shape in the air. Try to catch it up, the hands grasp in between of tremors. I can’t, I said to you.

And I cry.

And I cry.

And I cry.

And the sea formed, hence we sail upon it.

Row, row, row.

Row, row, row.

 

 

 

 

Image credits to Jenny at Flickr.com

English · My Blabber Side · My Chaotic Philosophy

#Soliloquy about Outer World and Everything in Between

“Can’t you believe it? They’re just cramped me out.”

“I failed to see what’s you point. She said that you worth it and he said this is your time. “

“Exactly”

“You know what, you keep telling me about your dreams, each of them, until I got everything in my subconscious mind, then the earth give you exactly what you’ve been dreaming for and now you tried to evade them?”

“It just…. I don’t know whether it is right or it was merely me blinded by diamonds and pearls. Now I’m thinking about it and apparently it quite frightening.”

“Going out of your comfort zone always frightening, you asked for them first. Now I can’t understand.”

“I think I don’t want to go out.”

“Go out from where? You think you’re in it already? In your comfort zone? I can tell you how much you’ve been whinning to win my arguments but no, I’ll just reminds you that we’re on a same boat that sailing in the middle of stormy ocean, darling. No one of us is safe. What do you asking for?”

“I don’t know I’m so thrilled. Or perhaps it just because the hangover of Black Swan which I had been watched this evening. I understand the feeling when something that you’ve been longing forever makes you insane.”

“It draws you well?”

“It draws me well. Now I’m afraid of myself. I’m afraid of everything that I wanted. From the distance we can state an iceberg is enchanting until we come closer and collided and it becomes deadly.”

“You are afraid”

“I just not ready, I think.”

“No, you are afraid.”

“I’m so tired, can’t we just not talking about this?”

“Good, keep gliding out and you’ll never win”

“I don’t care. Good night, Darling. Here, listen the song I’ll be sleeping with tonight:”

English · My Chaotic Philosophy

I Don’t Need Butterflies Nor Roses

By the time I started fantasize about cotton candy cloud and rainbow bridge, I should zapped myself out of it, immediately. It’s not funny anymore and I’m not a little child anymore. And don’t tell me to grinning like an idiot, because I’m not a little girl anymore.

Warns and precautious spread all over the walls, I have already knew, I just didn’t took them seriously. Oh yeah, we can try endlessly but in the end we are wizards and witches in disguise. We were disgusted and mad and ready to pinpointed the wand on anybody else’s face, but, uh-oh, we ALL have a wand.

Come on, so tired of this game, don’t you too? Why cannot we ended this and pretending you never be a frog and I never be a lizard. We are not a little children playing with play-doh. We are mature witch and wizard with a full-power magical skills playing with each other’s awful emotions.

As it sounds as safe as it never be.

#TheMorningTales · English

#TheMorningTales 4 – Morning Sickness

 

What do I do to ignore them behind me?
Do I follow my instincts blindly?
Do I hide my pride from these bad dreams?
And give in to sad thoughts that are maddening?
Do I sit here and try to stand it?
Or do I try to catch them red-handed?
Do I trust some and get fooled by phoniness,
Or do I trust nobody and live in loneliness?
Because I can’t hold on when I’m stretched so thin
I make the right moves but I’m lost within
I put on my daily facade but then
I just end up getting hurt again
By myself // myself

I ask why, but in my mind
I find I can’t rely on myself

I can’t hold on
To what I want when I’m stretched so thin
It’s all too much to take in
I can’t hold on
To anything watching everything spin
With thoughts of failure sinking in

If I // Turn my back I’m defenseless
And to go blindly seems senseless
If I hide my pride and let it all go on then they’ll
Take from me ‘till everything is gone
If I let them go I’ll be outdone
But if I try to catch them I’ll be outrun
If I’m killed by the questions like a cancer
Then I’ll be buried in the silence of the answer
by myself // myself

I ask why, but in my mind
I find I can’t rely on myself

How do you think I’ve lost so much
I’m so afraid that I’m out of touch
How do you expect… I will know what to do
When all I know Is what you tell me to

Don’t you know
I can’t tell you how to make it go
No matter what I do, how hard I try
I can’t seem to convince myself why
I’m stuck on the outside

 

 

So funny that every thoughts I had this morning is all related to the lyric of this song.

It reflected so well in some stages.