Thursday, October 6, 2011

I cannot give names to it

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

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