Forever Grateful

in this small lonely island in space and time

here you are, with me

choosing to be

choosing to be a witness of my existence

choosing to be seeing, completely, me

you choose to be a friend

of me

a friend

of me

you choose to be here and stay

eternally

over and

over again

we relive the same days

same rays of sunshine, same blades of grass,

same enemies, same friends,

yeah we do

for real

and in this life and days,

I’m happy

 

dear you to whom a huge part of myself belongs,

thank you, forever

and ever

and ever

and ever

and ever

thank you

 

You’re Anything but Weak

I understand you.

You’re in turmoil, running round and round because no one has nodded to your pain. 

Let alone you. 

You say to yourself it isn’t real.

But yes, it is very real. It exists right here.

Screw people who downplay your feelings. Fuck them. They do not fucking know. May their clueless asses freeze in hell forever. May the ghosts of boneless turkeys haunt them day and night.

I know you. And I love you.

And I want you to be safe and healthy and happy.

So listen to me now, listen to me only.

You are loved. 

You don’t deserve this pain, I know.

But you’ll get through, and you’ll realize that you’ll be fine. 

And you’ll start trusting yourself again.

And you will only have to listen to you, your heart. It’s gained its strength back. 

Trust me, trust you. You can do this. Whatever this is.

You can.

Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band

Mom.

I can’t live the way you want me to.

I can’t follow every bit of your whims.

I can’t be the perfect sweet daughter; I’m not, at all, a sweet perfect human being.

Sorry mom.

I am sorry that you don’t know me.

I am sorry that you have no idea who this person is.

Not even the slightest idea, I know. I’m really sorry. 

Mom, I really have struggled.

I realized I can’t despise you forever for that.

And I realized I can’t stay wishing myself to just, end? I have to go.

So I’ll go.
Bye mom.

Wednesday morning, 05:00.

Banana Lekker

These days, whenever I stopped at the mall I would go to Breadtalk and buy a banana lekker. I don’t think I like the bread that much but it’s what I always bought.

A banana lekker is pretty much banana and chocolate spread sandwiched in simple white bread. Not exactly a concept I’d be excited by but I found myself strangely comforted when I eat it.

Today, as usual, I bought a banana lekker and nothing else.

I was taking the rectangular bread I just paid for when someone put the exact same thing on the cashier’s table.

A banana lekker and nothing else.

Is this plain thing popular? Weird.

But even weirder is when I looked up to see the person buying. 

I saw this face often.

It’s the face of a stranger I had passed by many times. By many, there was one time when I saw her and I just couldn’t handle it that I blurted out to my friends how this stranger seemed to be everywhere: in the street, in a bus stop, in a supermarket. Yeah, they replied.

Strangely, our eyes never met. I just noticed her presence. She might or might have not noticed mine.

It’s hard not to notice her. She is a glass-wearing, middle-eastern looking woman in her 20s. She always wears a backpack and a veil, today, a turquoise one.

As soon as she said thanks to the cashier she walked out, then down the stairs. She put small headphones on and went towards the exit. 

I watched that stranger drifting away, wondering whether I should have said hi. Then I thought not: I didn’t really care about this other person. All I care about is patterns. 

I opened the plastic wrapping of my banana lekker and finished it in a blink. She probably waited until she got home. Ah, delayed gratification.

I don’t know how to live without my kidnapper: A Real Human Condition

“The sane thing to do is to get out of this place I’m locked in.

But it’s been a very long time since I last saw the daylight.

So a doubt has planted itself in: What am I going to do once I can see the sky again? Will I be able to live without him, my loving kidnapper?

It is true that he is too emotional at times. When he gets angry he is, I just won’t dare looking. I can’t get him happy all the time, sadly. He is really nice when he’s happy. He’d be sweet.

I feel something is wrong. I think he’s told me too many lies. But I believe him. I believe him. He takes care of me. Shouldn’t I be thankful? This is not very sane, but I can’t help not to feel that way.

After all, that’s what he tells me every day. He does things for me for my own well-being. He cares about me. The outside world will eat me if I stop feeding from him.

I want to get out but I fear upsetting him.. What do I do?”

Tea Shop Confessions

Guilt

guilt
guilt
money guilt
bad child
bad people
good, smart child
bad, bad child
un-
-believable
a mistake
a big mistake
get some guilt
guilt
guilt everything
guilt to the core
a mistake
from the start
a mistake
completely
un-
-mendable

 

Silent

how many times have I said
you’re wrong
doing that again
you
ungrateful burden
such an
never mind
learn next time

 

Sweet Water

I cannot possibly know
how people go
here
and there
without stopping
but I know
I like to stop long
that’s why
they go
they don’t stop
they don’t
because I do

 

Very Very Weird

you know

it’s very
very
weird
how things are actually not
so weird
so what
does it
even mean, then?

listen

with annoyance
let me bet
to my demise
it doesn’t carry what we sadly prayed it would

like a meaning

like a, dear love, helpful meaning

how displeasing weird is
weird is it
weird just like it is

The Art of A Silent Cry

Holding a violent sobbing is real.

So sudden a second,

here is a crushing sadness taking over.

Our insides. The guts. Unapologetic destruction to everything on its way out. Messy.

Yet here we are watching the event, helpless. Raw.

And still not letting it pass our throat. Shame.

There it is. Tragicness.

Hiding inside the bedroom’s black.

While our realization keeps unfolding quietly.

Occasionally,

against the sound of a distant thunderstorm.

Someone I Left Behind

I don’t want to be emotional, but that’s what I am sometimes.

And I judge it, perhaps it’s a part of me that I kind of loathe.

I believe it shouldn’t be judged. No one should be judged for it. Isn’t it humanly?

But I do say harsh words to it, which seem to be the echoes of voices from the past. People were judging me for it. I must have adopted their way.

Quite recently, I became more grounded in my outlooks. And I genuinely like this newfound cool. I have evolved a lot and in a good way. Much of my past was an emotional wreck as a result of letting strong emotions drive every act. Well, it didn’t work. Now I take pride on being practical and reasonable.

But I do feel a lot. And this person I left behind came to me. Someone I feel ashamed of. I said, why are you here. Be quick, or else, others would notice.

It was never my intention to hurt us, she said. I know you’re upset, please forgive me. I never wanted this. If there is wound, it wasn’t because of me.

I thought I’ve made a reasonably dependable exoskeleton. A great support on which I can navigate myself properly. But the organs are still soft. No matter what I gave them, they would still be soft organs.

Perhaps:

-The head can’t work without the heart.

-It’s not bad to feel a lot. Even if no one understands you for that.

-They were not true in saying that giving a friend your colored pencils is foolish.

 

Ah, softies.

Well, well.

I think I’d visit you more often. Later, you can move in with me again.

Three Months

A lot of things happened in the last three months, though I vaguely remember everything.

I can’t describe to you in detail exactly what happened. But I do feel so. A lot of things happened.

I can tell you that I went there and there, did this and that, met her and him and them. But then, those aren’t the best stories. Things don’t exist only on the surface.

That big festive moment I proudly showed to others perhaps felt blah to me.

But talking to my sister one late, late night while laying on piles of clothes, that was stellar.

My point is, besides this usual life journey one usually describes as external experiences, lies another journey we can (for right now) call an emotional journey.

Perhaps ‘besides’ is not even the right word. I’ve got this feeling that the external experiences are contained within the emotions. Not the other way. 

Yeah, the emotional journey is the bigger journey.

Consequently, the one more important.

Let’s see the truth together. Let’s set the order right.

When we strip away the false, the right things happen.

And we’ll love it. All the smiles.

p.s.

I love you sister. You’re the best. I love us.