I never mean to stop running after you
Because i promise myself to never leave you again
But right now
You are too far in front of me
Like starless nights
Where i want to find the stars
But i just couldn't
Because the clouds are covering it
Would you show up
Behind the shadows
Or turn your back to me
So that i can see you again
So that we can run together,
Even its nowhere to go,
Or no places called home,
I will still hold your hand
But, like starless nights
You are too far.
Monday, August 25, 2014
Wordless Heart
Do you know the greatest and the biggest sadness that your heart can feel?
When people said that you are so good with words. By i mean here that, literally, good with words. Wether you're talking or writing, those words are marvelous. You can create shapes, mood, story, based on words. Basically all you have to do is just pick and move your words from your thoughts, from your brain, to a paper, or a typewriter, or even a digital gadget or laptop that you have. Anything that can transfer your mind, so that not only you who can understand the meaning.
Did i said the greatest and biggest sadness that your heart can feel? Oh yeah--well, we are all human. Not forget to mention, we are also perfect and imperfect creatures, all whole in one. We are bad and good in one. We are the beast and the beauty, angels and devils in one.
We have thousand unexplainable feelings, that one of them comes so secretly, oftenly uninvited, and hard to let go once it comes.
And such feeling is simply called as 'love'.
And can you already guess what i meant with greatest and biggest sadness that your--okay okay, i change that one into--our hearts.
What is the greatest and biggest sadness that our hearts can feel?
The answer is quite simple: when love and words does not want to be connected.
Or in the other words, when people said that you are so good with words and you already produce a lots of nice stories, poems, philosophies, quotes which is some find it inspiring. Or it can help some others and lead them to happiness.
You are so happy when its happening. To know that your writing and words are worth to read for people, and the fact that they are willing to take the words and even spread it out. Its a huge honor for you.
But when love--and words are not meant to be connected, then you are done. Its like all your finger freezes and you can't write anything again, or you lost interest for all the musics that usually accompany you while you're writing and playing with words, or you feel that you are become numb, useless, and fall unguarded from highest cliff, to the deep darkness.
When you already build up your courage, and ready for your words, wether you choose to write or say it straight,
But its fails immediately.
Thats when, your words and the love are not meant to be.
Your beautiful, soft words cant reach the person you love. Eventough it is safe. It is honest and gentle, as white feathers which fly in the sky.
But still. The person you love does not trust the words.
Both ways, it really hurts. Not only for you, but for me also. That is the greatest and biggest sadness. That is the worst wound that scratches your heart a bit by a bit until it needs really long time to be heal again.
And it is also makes you wonder, that it might be because you don't use the words correctly. Or its not pure enough to be reachable.
But maybe, my dear, maybe,
The person you love is the one who actually cannot hear you.
When people said that you are so good with words. By i mean here that, literally, good with words. Wether you're talking or writing, those words are marvelous. You can create shapes, mood, story, based on words. Basically all you have to do is just pick and move your words from your thoughts, from your brain, to a paper, or a typewriter, or even a digital gadget or laptop that you have. Anything that can transfer your mind, so that not only you who can understand the meaning.
Did i said the greatest and biggest sadness that your heart can feel? Oh yeah--well, we are all human. Not forget to mention, we are also perfect and imperfect creatures, all whole in one. We are bad and good in one. We are the beast and the beauty, angels and devils in one.
We have thousand unexplainable feelings, that one of them comes so secretly, oftenly uninvited, and hard to let go once it comes.
And such feeling is simply called as 'love'.
And can you already guess what i meant with greatest and biggest sadness that your--okay okay, i change that one into--our hearts.
What is the greatest and biggest sadness that our hearts can feel?
The answer is quite simple: when love and words does not want to be connected.
Or in the other words, when people said that you are so good with words and you already produce a lots of nice stories, poems, philosophies, quotes which is some find it inspiring. Or it can help some others and lead them to happiness.
You are so happy when its happening. To know that your writing and words are worth to read for people, and the fact that they are willing to take the words and even spread it out. Its a huge honor for you.
But when love--and words are not meant to be connected, then you are done. Its like all your finger freezes and you can't write anything again, or you lost interest for all the musics that usually accompany you while you're writing and playing with words, or you feel that you are become numb, useless, and fall unguarded from highest cliff, to the deep darkness.
When you already build up your courage, and ready for your words, wether you choose to write or say it straight,
But its fails immediately.
Thats when, your words and the love are not meant to be.
Your beautiful, soft words cant reach the person you love. Eventough it is safe. It is honest and gentle, as white feathers which fly in the sky.
But still. The person you love does not trust the words.
Both ways, it really hurts. Not only for you, but for me also. That is the greatest and biggest sadness. That is the worst wound that scratches your heart a bit by a bit until it needs really long time to be heal again.
And it is also makes you wonder, that it might be because you don't use the words correctly. Or its not pure enough to be reachable.
But maybe, my dear, maybe,
The person you love is the one who actually cannot hear you.
Sixty Months Ago
One morning i walk successfully through the school gate, i checked my watch. Its 07.11 in the morning. I continue to walk really slow to the class, as it was a really lazy morning. A lots of sounds. Sounds of the water fountain in front of the class, people chatting and laughing, teachers yelling, books and papers sounds ripped, some pens and pencils fell down to the floor. The smells are the same, hot meatballs soup's smell up in the air from the school's canteen, the trees are same green, the sky is the same blue, and the flowers are the same pretty. I still remember how my Sport lesson's teacher was always watering the plants and scold anyone who accidentally stepped on the water hose. He promised that he will splat the water to whoever bothering his routine activity.
I can hear that, not far behind my back, some students footsteps, rushing because they thought they were late. And i can hear from in front of me, the sounds of basketball clattered in the field's rubber floor.
I keep walking really slow.
Then i saw his back. As tall as a power pole, he walked in front of me, going into the corridor. He have different way to walk--he drag his feet so hard, yield the sounds of shoe soles rubs the floor--some people find this as quite disturbing. As he obviously looks like he dont want to go to the class, he walked even slower than me.
He brought his usual abstract pattern dark brown bag--which is not his choice of the bag--might be the choice from the parents, and he wore the same usual brown jacket which is oversized, but he'd never fold the sleeves (I swear i did reminded him of that oversized matter--he never listened!)
I walk quicker, call his name and even before he turn his head to see who's calling, i pushed both of his shoulder to the front. He was almost fell down and always mumbling to me after that.
And me, i look at him and smile even wider to hear his mumbling. I jumped along while he still mumbling unclearly, that i'd never even try to hear him until he was finishing his grumbles.
I ran and arrived at the class faster than him, not knowing the fact that 5 years later from that moment, i will miss that mumbling voices so much.
I can hear that, not far behind my back, some students footsteps, rushing because they thought they were late. And i can hear from in front of me, the sounds of basketball clattered in the field's rubber floor.
I keep walking really slow.
Then i saw his back. As tall as a power pole, he walked in front of me, going into the corridor. He have different way to walk--he drag his feet so hard, yield the sounds of shoe soles rubs the floor--some people find this as quite disturbing. As he obviously looks like he dont want to go to the class, he walked even slower than me.
He brought his usual abstract pattern dark brown bag--which is not his choice of the bag--might be the choice from the parents, and he wore the same usual brown jacket which is oversized, but he'd never fold the sleeves (I swear i did reminded him of that oversized matter--he never listened!)
I walk quicker, call his name and even before he turn his head to see who's calling, i pushed both of his shoulder to the front. He was almost fell down and always mumbling to me after that.
And me, i look at him and smile even wider to hear his mumbling. I jumped along while he still mumbling unclearly, that i'd never even try to hear him until he was finishing his grumbles.
I ran and arrived at the class faster than him, not knowing the fact that 5 years later from that moment, i will miss that mumbling voices so much.
Sunday, August 17, 2014
The Door, Sunflowers, and Him
There is a single, black color door in the middle of nowhere. The door is always numb. So does the red-dressed girl. As she always sit in front of it, quitely. She doesn't make any sounds. Even when she's breathing.
When it comes to winter, all we can see is just the white steam comes from her mouth. Still no sound, but we know that she is cold, her skin become whiter and all sounds she made are sneezes. She will somehow have some blankets covering her and sometimes a brown coat when she plays with the deers. But she will comeback and stay still in front of the door.
When spring comes, she will be a bit happier, knowing the seeds that she have planted during last year start to growing up, healthier and taller. She would move a bit and step by step, pouring some water with her hands to the plants. Then she would, fadely smile, for a second. Now she have a new line of something that she can brag, flowers!
When it finally moves to summer, she will be extra careful to protect the door. Because its really hot and humid, its time for the bears comes to search for food. But when she found a river, she is sure the bears are more attracted to the fishes. She tried to catch some, but the fishes are too sleek for her. She end up sitting nearby the river and talking to some pupaes that is late to transform themselves into beautiful butterflies. And when she comeback to her own little secret garden, she found out that her sunflowers growing taller, even more taller than her. She hugs those flowers and tell them that she loves them so much. She loves the brightness of them, which reminds her of him, of that person.
She get back to the door as she always do everyday, without no sound. She knocked the door slowly--no one answered, as usual.
"The sunflowers blooming!" She finally yells. No answer. "You have to come out to see how bright and beautiful they are!" She is about to say that the sunflowers are more like him, but she hold her tongue to talk more.
It comes to the autumn when she is so struggle with her own secret little garden, because so many storms comes unexpectedly, and she have to protect them all, especially the sunflowers. She wrapped them all one by one with plastics and pray that they can be strong. She whispered to the sunflower to not get down. "You are stronger than you know." She said.
Day by day, she is still sitting in front of the black door, in the middle of nowhere. As she hopes that someday the door will open--as she hopes that someday the heart will return.
At one early morning, before the sun rises, she is still awake, a bit freezing. As she always wait for the sun comes, she already miss the warmth.
There is a tumble sound behind the door. A really tiny voices. She can hear them all. She standing and stick her left ear to the door.
The person behind the door try to talk--it has been ages since he talks. His voice is so low, but she still can hear them.
"....Are you there?"
The girl nodded energetically, but then she realize that he can't see her. She grabs her red dress, and fill up her courage to talk.
"The sunflowers--" she couldn't finish her sentences. There is a sound of the keylock. She still have to wait for some seconds. Wait for this all this long.
Now she can see his eyes, peeking from the dark. She still can see them, a pair of bright brown color eyes.
He open the door completely. He never changes. He is just the way he is, eventough it has been a while since the last time she sees him. He see how her eyes never stops blinking. Then he see her little secret garden. The sunflowers are standing strong, bright and glorious. He never expected to see every beauty on each of them.
The sun rises. He can feel its warmth, how it goes to his heart, its glowing.
She know that he is speechless. She might be insane to wait for him this long, month by months, year by years, and yet she is still there, without knowing when exactly he will comes out, when exactly he will call her name and eventually, open the door. She is still will be there, and she would never stop to repeats that she have a pure heart, so does him. She would never back off, as he never asked her to leave. She wants to let him know that he is so precious, so important to her. But she is not good with voices, with words. She can only wait for him to realize, to know that he is loved.
She can see the tears comes down on his cheeks. For the first time, he cries. He cry all along from his darkness, his doubt, and his bottom of the heart. He still cry for hours, but there she is, she can't smile wider and brighter than she is now. Her eyes are like a mirror, she feels the tears also start to going down on both of her cheeks, then become waterfalls. She can't be any happier more than she finally can see him now.
"How are you?"
That's all she can say.
When it comes to winter, all we can see is just the white steam comes from her mouth. Still no sound, but we know that she is cold, her skin become whiter and all sounds she made are sneezes. She will somehow have some blankets covering her and sometimes a brown coat when she plays with the deers. But she will comeback and stay still in front of the door.
When spring comes, she will be a bit happier, knowing the seeds that she have planted during last year start to growing up, healthier and taller. She would move a bit and step by step, pouring some water with her hands to the plants. Then she would, fadely smile, for a second. Now she have a new line of something that she can brag, flowers!
When it finally moves to summer, she will be extra careful to protect the door. Because its really hot and humid, its time for the bears comes to search for food. But when she found a river, she is sure the bears are more attracted to the fishes. She tried to catch some, but the fishes are too sleek for her. She end up sitting nearby the river and talking to some pupaes that is late to transform themselves into beautiful butterflies. And when she comeback to her own little secret garden, she found out that her sunflowers growing taller, even more taller than her. She hugs those flowers and tell them that she loves them so much. She loves the brightness of them, which reminds her of him, of that person.
She get back to the door as she always do everyday, without no sound. She knocked the door slowly--no one answered, as usual.
"The sunflowers blooming!" She finally yells. No answer. "You have to come out to see how bright and beautiful they are!" She is about to say that the sunflowers are more like him, but she hold her tongue to talk more.
It comes to the autumn when she is so struggle with her own secret little garden, because so many storms comes unexpectedly, and she have to protect them all, especially the sunflowers. She wrapped them all one by one with plastics and pray that they can be strong. She whispered to the sunflower to not get down. "You are stronger than you know." She said.
Day by day, she is still sitting in front of the black door, in the middle of nowhere. As she hopes that someday the door will open--as she hopes that someday the heart will return.
At one early morning, before the sun rises, she is still awake, a bit freezing. As she always wait for the sun comes, she already miss the warmth.
There is a tumble sound behind the door. A really tiny voices. She can hear them all. She standing and stick her left ear to the door.
The person behind the door try to talk--it has been ages since he talks. His voice is so low, but she still can hear them.
"....Are you there?"
The girl nodded energetically, but then she realize that he can't see her. She grabs her red dress, and fill up her courage to talk.
"The sunflowers--" she couldn't finish her sentences. There is a sound of the keylock. She still have to wait for some seconds. Wait for this all this long.
Now she can see his eyes, peeking from the dark. She still can see them, a pair of bright brown color eyes.
He open the door completely. He never changes. He is just the way he is, eventough it has been a while since the last time she sees him. He see how her eyes never stops blinking. Then he see her little secret garden. The sunflowers are standing strong, bright and glorious. He never expected to see every beauty on each of them.
The sun rises. He can feel its warmth, how it goes to his heart, its glowing.
She know that he is speechless. She might be insane to wait for him this long, month by months, year by years, and yet she is still there, without knowing when exactly he will comes out, when exactly he will call her name and eventually, open the door. She is still will be there, and she would never stop to repeats that she have a pure heart, so does him. She would never back off, as he never asked her to leave. She wants to let him know that he is so precious, so important to her. But she is not good with voices, with words. She can only wait for him to realize, to know that he is loved.
She can see the tears comes down on his cheeks. For the first time, he cries. He cry all along from his darkness, his doubt, and his bottom of the heart. He still cry for hours, but there she is, she can't smile wider and brighter than she is now. Her eyes are like a mirror, she feels the tears also start to going down on both of her cheeks, then become waterfalls. She can't be any happier more than she finally can see him now.
"How are you?"
That's all she can say.
Sunday, August 10, 2014
Unmindful
I miss him
But
I think that
He miss her more.
I dont know her
But
If thats the only reason that he can be happy
Then
I let him go.
But
I think that
He miss her more.
I dont know her
But
If thats the only reason that he can be happy
Then
I let him go.
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