Wow…

It’s 2012. And how many years from here rewinding back to the last post I had here? Amazing. I’ve lost myself then. I am still lost, but I’m grateful I could move along with this speed – it is better than being in some state where I am just  f  l o a t i n g .

I wish to write again. Share again. I had so much passion back then, where the fuck did they go to? Heh.

Anyway, I shall write again… Although I need to shake things up a lil’ here, you know I don’t just sit on a neglected chair thickened with dust! So dust dust dust, off you go! I hope so much that I still haven’t totally LOSE everything of myself! Adventures, on its way!

“Lullaby of Hate” (Pure Creative Writing)

** This is the pouring of my pure feelings, imagination,and understanding of Hatred/Hate. Not intended to any living you may know, or the dead. It’s purely mine, and is totally out of my own “image” of hatred. TQ**

I can’t believe you just ran over me. Fine, be that way. Your pride swallows the bigger half of yourself, so be “the man” that you wanted to be. And I promise; your death will be at the corner of your room, far from light, even further from heaven, with no other sound of a soul by your side but my name melting from your mouth.

That is when you needed my eyes;

To give you a glimpse of  comfort,

To watch over you.

That is when you search for my hand;

To keep your cold fingers warm,

To pull up your strength.

I will give you my eyes,

Not my hand;

Cause I merely want to watch every “sorry” you have made cry out from the holes of your eyes – bleeds out to the corners. And your “If only I “s…a little too late for your mind to digest, for your mouth to move.  Neither do I want to hear of it, to hear of them.

My strengths ; you have once slained;

So reason with me why should I even give you any, now?

At your partial breaths, and the life slowly fades off beneath your skin and behind your eyes;

This is it. This is when you return to me all my strengths you have laid to rest;

The one you killed; now reborn. Growing inside, slowly building myself again. The less air in your lungs, the stronger I get. The more you cry; the more you cry.

Somewhere in time, you’ve killed me.

For eternity, I will kill you.

Leave the world, my love;

Go back to the Fire,

You have burnt enough.

Again…

Here I am again.
Alone again. Crying again.
Lost all hope for life. Lost all wills and directions.
Lost my dreams. Watching her fear growing and growing.
Have I died before I did…all the spice of life have dried out from my veins, all my passions’ gone. Will I REALLY live again?

February 5th – The Problem With Time

Here I sat, wondering what I can speak off since the WiFi don’t work. No idea why…I’m waiting for my friend to finish her last class for today which just started half an hour ago – now it’s 1830 hours.

I look around I wonder what sorts of problems at home are they facing each day, and what they do with it or how the deal with it. Everyone have one, it’s a must if you’re a breather on Earth. Problems – matters that are difficult for you to face, or hard for you to adjust to, to learn something new, to gather strenght to keep up, or just sitting down at a table figuring out how to solve one. Whatever it could be, where ever it comes from does matter. There’s a present problem, definetely there’s the “start” button or the core of it. To get down to it is not any easier than trying to solve it. If you don’t know when, where and why it starts – how are you suppose to dig? Where should you start to dig? Well, i’m just as clueless as you are. Plus, I have so many to deal with. So do you, right? So does everyone. To solve it we have to consider about time. Time proved me this – it starts something, ends everything, and / or start again. But there’s no ‘re-start’. No turning back against the clock. No swirling the clock’s hand to stop Grandpa’s death. No waking up at your exam seat, wishing you didn’t change your answers last minute. No, Non, Nein. NO. It just – makes me paranoid how fast it flies – sometimes too fast, I could hardly recall I made through another though day as a college student and as a human being, sometimes too slow that you just crawl on your bed wishing midnight would come faster because you have nothing to do. But now in another 7 months and a few weeks, i’ll be full-time adult. I know it doesn’t mean that i’ll be working 9 to 5 bla bla bla. But hey, stop that number “2” infront of my age! I don’t feel that much old yet! I am not ready to even BE that old. I used to feel so safe being twelve or eleven. Less mind-provoking thoughts to think of, less betrayals, less unhappiness, less pain, less suicidal attempts. I wish I could ‘stay’ where I felt safe. But Time stops for no man at all. I’m merely a kid, nothing special. That’s it – I’m a kid. Always have been at heart, but my mind grows well with my physiques, but I never always like to think like adults. Faking, lying, cowardness, self-centered back stabbing bastards. If I were to discribe the word “adult” in my own dictionary it will be full of filthy words. I don’t know how better they are out there, but those I have seen and seeing in my eyes and my heart, they are just not what I want to be. Not a single one of them.
So, tell me why I fear so much of growing up…why I fear that the end is near. Or maybe I’m scared of the new beginnings after the endings. I feel left out – but I have lived my time. Eventhough, it’s not filled with much preciousness, I still have gone through my time zone. And here I am, 19 years old – with fear building up inside. I Don’t Want To Grow Up!

Paper and I

I’m as strong as a piece of paper.

Yellow and pale.

Can easily be tear apart.

Water – dissolves and shreds it.

Fire – burns it to ashes.

Earth – can rot it.

Wind – will blow it away ; anywhere, everywhere.

I’m all over the place…

Fifth Sail – Marching

I dont know what to do. I don’t know where or who to turn to ; When the storm comes, when the storm comes. I always face the dimm light and cold water alone. Always alone, others expect me to be brave to fight the gigantic storm that became a monster in its own being – like in fairytales where a brave knight fight against a dragon, at the saves the day. I haven’t. I haven’t save myself. What is becoming of me I do not know. I wish I could be stronger as i was before. I really felt last night the ‘soldier’ in me had somehow dissappear into thin mist – dont know where he had went to. Maybe he had left me the day my grandfather went away. I miss him so much. I couldn’t even remember what’s the last thing I said to him. 

He was a soldier. Brave soldier. He had fought wars and went across battlefields, went through jungles. He always said “you’d make a good soldier if you we’re a boy, though i wouldn’t recommend that these days” (financial-wise). Now i have that far look in my eyes again, and in my head i could hear him asking repeatedly with his aged eyes “Awat pandang jauh sangat, adik?” ( “Why the long-look in your eyes, little one”). 

The day he left; – I guess the soldier in me had march with him too…now I’m all alone. Cold water surrounds me. I’m in the middle. Hear me. Hear me. Help me.

Fourth Sail – White

I’m on the verge of throwing myself into the ocean, and wherever the current will take me, take me. Just let me out of this white hole I’m trapped in. I feel insecure. I feel irritated. I feel all eyes are upon me and there’s no way for mistake. No, I’m not in the middle of exam week or what. Im just a little – unwell. Sometimes I feel i pushed my self to the edge of some cliff, wind are blowing back and forth; drew unsteady lines across my face as it swept away my hair side to side. And there I stood – face forward as far as i can see the ocean’s horizon line. The wind is cold, hitting my skin. Unstoppable. And people kept coming to you, climbing to the cliff, just to ask the same question as the whole ‘town’ did, a hundred times. “How are you”. Don’t ask me, not because I am angry to answer. Don’t ask me, not because I am shy. Well, a little. But don’t ask me at all…because I myself – I don’t know…I really don’t. Why and how I feel this way? God bless me, please. I really don’t know what to answer. All I can say, if i have the strength at all – to even speak out – I am unwell. The world is unjust for me, but so has it been to everyone in the world as well. I feel sick, inside, my God ; it’s like something is eating me. I can’t sleep because ‘it’ “chews” at night…my heart felt like it’s crunching, sunken deeper. I have lost all taste for good things i used to seek in life. I feel weak. Determined – but don’t know where to ‘go’ exactly. I’m moving, but I feel very still. Deeply wounded, my heart is so sensitive these days – one blunt piece of metal could stir me to be moved – that’s how fragile I am. Yet, I am numb and sometimes the ‘wind’ gets to me so much that I turn just as cold.

Just as cold… Just as cold.

P/S: Tonight, i’m a little lost for my own words even. Floating log on a lake, that’s how unimportant i feel. That’s how slow and drifted apart I feel.. I am feeling Nothing. I am drowning in White.

Irony..?

It’s amazing how we, who have been given the gift to hear, see, and talk are the ones who refrain themselves to use them to either settle an argument, express how they feel, or simply ask for forgiveness.

Last night at the corner where I sat down with a glass of apple juice, watching two people in my life who brought me here to join them for some outside air (to a girl who has been stuck for weeks infront of her study table and her laptop all day – all night, only excuse herself away from it for toilet breaks, one meal, and some sleep if needed badly), hardly speak to one another. They talk – every 6-8 minutes or so, but didn’t really speak. One phone beeps after another – the other reply to the sms, vice versa. How stupid do they think I am? While behind one of these people i know, stood a deaf person just stood there with a smile knowing he will be ignored, but is smiling anyway. So frail his smile was. I could only smile at him, the least. I have no money at all in my pocket.. I was sitting across the table and these two adults ; who refuse to talk to one another, and the guy who works at the restaurant was blocking the guy who seeks for donation to set up shisha (which the deaf old man later went away).

- beeps, fingers texting. Another receive a beep; text back.

I had enough, I talk to one of the adults who brought me here, feeling kind of sick to watch and acknowledge the adults being so – there’s no word for how i feel. I wish i could say “childish”, but i think children communicate better than adults. I told her “how old are you again? Why don’t you just talk to him. Are you guys fighting?”. She just give excuses talking about just the place being heavy with smokes of shisha and what not in the air – not arguing with him, by the way. *sigh*

Fine.

If you could only see the situation as clear as it was in my head. Two adults can’t settle some “displeased” situation by talking; one refrain from SPEAKING and HEARING. The other tried, but still played this her way – he tried to speak, but hear nothing what he wants. An oldman with toys hung around his neck, holding  laminated A4 cardboard stating about donation and charity, along with “I am a DEAF person”, incapable of HEARING, stood behind like almost a transparent background – he just blends in the whole background. And I, who sat across, witness all this – with a rough sketch of smile across my face.

I blend with the crowd – just a background too.

If they could just be more grateful and really make use of this privillege and this wonderful gift from God, to SPEAK and HEAR – to send your thoughts cross to another – COMMUNICATE. So simple. Ironic, isn’t it?

Third sail – I wanted to go today…

I didn’t woke up for class today. Digital Design class. It was at 9am. I slept at 5.45am, supposed to wake up at 6.30am later. But i didnt.

Instead, i woke up at 9.40am, after a few vibration signals from my phone and a miss call from a friend. 0945. How can i not go? This is the second time i didn’t attend the class. When finally my brain starts to calculate that i am fully awake from my sleep and I AM NOT in my class, where i should be; something just pulled a frown on my face this early morning. But i fell asleep again – i dont remember much. But i do remember mum calling me from downstairs to eat since i cant fast. It must be around afternoon. 1200+. I dont know how to describe how angry i was at the moment. First, i stepped out from my bed and everything was still ok. I functioned – go for a shower, head down for stinky antibiotics and a little breakfast since i cant fast. Talk to mum a little as we sat together. Then on my 6th sip of tea, my heart crunched and tears broke out from my tearducts. She asked me if it was about him? I apologize to mum to pardon me and answered “No. It’s coz i didnt go to class”, and i went upstairs. I cried. I hate that. Makes me feel most weak. But they say it releases endorphines – suppose the chemical helps us to feel better. And according to research, those who cry easily have far less low chance to fall into Depression. True, i guess. I’m not good in crying. But I have been forced to learn a lot of times this year. Such a dramatic year, this year.

I am angry at myself. I am dissapointed in myself. I feel like i have dissapointed everyone i know. Especially, my parents, my friends, and my lecturers. My new lecturers probably dont even recognize or bother yet about me, it’s only been 2 weeks. But i am diagnosed with a problem for “thinking too much”. Seriously, I feel left out. The pixel assignments – photoshop stuffs…my brain responds very slow. MUCH MUCH slower than before. I know i have been told about this by Dr.Rose. But, no one can help but feeling so bloody pathetic and so freaking slow in judgements and responds. Luvox has a side-effects of making the person who consumed it a bit lethargic, some cases became more depressive (extreme mood changes) – i have this, sweat more than the usual, and slow on judgements, a bit poor on coordination and causes confusions in thoughts. I am taking Rivotril as well – low dose, didn’t do much. Did however makes my brain shut up after the first few days, but now – just helping more on the slow responds, confusions, and slow judgements.

As i did the dishes after i came downstairs again, the tap was running, and the last plate is washed, i had a recently washed knife in my hand. Silver handle, and slim. I am extremely dissapointed in myself at that time, i couldn’t hear anything but the sound of the water running – and it’s just me and the knife. I wanted to cut myself so badly. Tried – but the edge was blunt. It didn’t cut through my skin. Again, a dissapointment.

I used to be strong. Where have that courage gone to? Who took it? When did it when away and why has it left me? I’m merely a soldier. No ranks, just a Private. Walk in woods alone during break time, but walk and smile along in groups when in patrol. I’m no superman. But it’s not easy to be me. Never was.

Help me. I wanted to cut myself today. I wanted to go.

But i will be here. I will be better. God is with me, though no one is really with me. Make me strong again, Allah.

If there’s anyone out there who have experiences in this and is or have used Luvox, Stilnox, and/or Rivotril…whatever your story is, i want to connect with someone who had gone through or is going through this steep and slippery path with me.

P/S: i love wordpress. Easily manageable, and user-friendly. I dont hate you

Second Sail : “How Are You?”

You sit. Before you there’s a table – food and drinks laid generously within the reach of your fingers. Eyes focused on one object, then another. People you know around you are mobile, busy preparing what should be.  Then everyone sat down.

When her eyes moves about she could only see, but never really looking. The daily sounds of life seems almost blocked out from her – as though she’s surrounded by a invincible spherical wall; sounds of chattering and all that brings life and characters to everything just pass and fade. All was too faint that nothing makes much sense. Her breathing was long and heavy. It took sometime for her to comprehend a simple sentence – when before these days she could just snap an answer out. Her eyes looks lifeless, as her brother said. Her mother asked if she was alright. Her father place his hand on top of her head, and asked the same.

The question was extremely simple, and millions of people in the world, everyday uses and hear it; “How are you?” or “Are you ok?” – yet, I need to ponder for a minute, completely brought my mind to somewhere I dont know where; thousands of images, noises, sounds, faces, motions – they are familiar but almost absolutely senseless – just passes by in split seconds. Then, I would take the air in, and let it out. Look down and blink once. Look at them and share a faint smile, and finally say “I’m ok”.

It’s far from the truth – but what else could I say when I can feel nothing, and explain none..?