“
Take up one idea. Make that one idea your life - think of it, dream of it, live on that idea. Let the brain, muscles, nerves, every part of your body, be full of that idea, and just leave every other idea alone. This is the way to success, that is way great spiritual giants are produced.”
Don't leave.
Please.
Stay where you are.
I'm making my way to you.
Little by little
Stroke by stroke
Teardrop by teardrop
Dream by dream
Breath by breath
I'll get there somehow.
Don't leave.
Please.
Just hang on. Even to the smallest thought. The tiniest sign. The furthest impossibility.
Have faith.
That's all I ask of you.
Have faith.
Stay where you are.
I'll see you there.
I'll be there.
South Jakarta, 11.09 am
#crying
Hi.
It's me again.
Am watching the dark sky of Jakarta now and wondering how is it going over there.
How does it feel getting closer to fall?
How does it feel, looking at the pale summer sky, feeling the breezing wind at the beginning of autumn?
I always wonder when was it started actually.
Was it when I saw you dancing like crazy?
Was it when I realized how quiet and serene you look beneath the glowing and glamorous fashion?
Was it all real? Or is it just my fantasy?
What is the different now?
This is such a feeling that brings down all the walls between reality and fantasy. Such a feeling that makes you wonder how could people say fantasies are not real.
I cannot give names to it.
What would you call a feeling that gives you a warm sensation creeping down from your chest to your stomach when you think of a particular person?
What would you call a feeling that stretch your heart from head to toe, and stretch it even further, far, far to the furthest impossibility, only with the slightest thought of the person?
What would you call a feeling that always gets you thinking of that particular person when you see a beautiful path with the color of autumn, or a beautiful house with a soft, dim light and a sofa with old cushions, next to a long wooden paneled window looking out to the garden full of trees and flowers?
Tell me, what would you call a feeling that makes me think of you at the sight of that beautiful serenity of a comfortable, safe place to return to... The images of home...
I cannot give names to it.
Bintaro, Oct 6, late afternoon
Finally able to finish this after being a draft for about 2 weeks
I am at my worst.
The slightest touch makes me want to hit the person who touches me.
The casual conversation felt like the sound of independence day celebration and I want to shriek like a banshee so people can finally shut up. Or just talk silently.
The simplest question felt like an intimidating interrogation and I really have no answer to any of those. Even if it's just something in the line of have I had my lunch or what to eat for dinner.
I can't even make myself to reply the comments on my Facebook.
I am that horrible when I'm having a meltdown.
I can't meet people. I can't be around other people, even if it's my own family. I don't talk and I don't answer questions. Even if I would, it would be very difficult to do. It's as if my brain suddenly functions in different mode. The normal encoding-decoding process somehow just doesn't work. It suddenly uses different encrypting system and anything comes from external felt strange and unintelligible.
I've learned to accept this. I've grown to accept the periodical occurrence and adapt to it.
So here I am now sitting in my room, having a cup of green jasmine tea. One of the few things that can calm me down at times like this.
And as if in cue, I received an email from my boss asking me to do some work tonight, and an invitation from the people in my block for dinner. For certain reasons, both are things I couldn't and shouldn't turn down.
Hasn't it always been like this?
Just when you thought you couldn't go further with your emotional breakdown, such things appear out of nowhere and forcefully pulling you out from your comfortable solitary shell.
But, really, dear Universe, I've nothing against it.
Maybe I'm feeling like dragging myself out of the house right now. But this is nothing, because I'm still alive here, typing my heart out in my comfortable room with a cup of that lovely green tea, a full stomach, and sleepy eyes.
