I was reading.

Lately I’ve been losing sleep.
All I’m doing is just reading books and scratching things on my book.
I don’t know what am I trying to accomplish by doing it, but, it feels like it’s all that I want to do.
I barely get enough sleep.
Some people said that sleep is the best for distracting yourself for awhile.
For me, well, I won’t deny that my body needs rest.
But.. Everytime I wake up, like I said in my previous post, there’s this kind of pain in the pit of my stomach.
And I absolutely hate it.

So I decided to get a sleep whenever I’m feeling super tired.
Not whenever I need it.

I looked at my phone.
I don’t use my phone and pc much recently.
In fact, I’m staying away from them.
Just because it pains me so to think about stupid things happened between her and that certain guy whenever I open social media.
She said she was just joking and all, that it was nothing serious.
But I decided to limit my presence as little as possible.
Like I said, I’m afraid of what I could find there.

She might do whatever she wants to, hiding things from me on social media, lying about things, anything.
But, somehow I’m always think that I know there’s something behind it.
With her decided to hide her timeline from me, I’m become more and more neurotic everytime I think of it.
She’s still hiding her timeline from me, tho. And she didn’t say anything about it anymore.
She said her timeline isn’t that interesting and it’s not important.
But that’s not the case, now is it? If it really is not interesting, then why she hide it from me?

Alright, I’m thinking too much about this. Let’s erase this awful thoughts.
My neurotic side was kicking in.

So, yeah, I set notifications on silent and threw away my phone and pc.
I’m trying to keep myself sane.
Anyway, like I said, I was reading, and I looked at my phone.
And there’s couple of messages from her,

“Anyway, there’s nothing wrong with continuous reading and writing. But please don’t force yourself too hard. Maintain your rest. Drink plenty of water.”

She said she said that just because there’s someone she knew passed away few days ago.
Because they didn’t get enough sleep.
I was slightly surprised.
I only slept for an hour since yesterday.
Well, I know that she cares about me. And that’s a very good thing.

Yet I felt so heartsick.
I miss her so.
I just want to hold her in my arms and kiss her hair.

At this point, I feel like.. Dr. Victor Frankenstein.
Yes, I read Mary Shelley’s novel once.

And I didn’t mean the monster. The creator.
Dr. Victor Frankenstein was obsessed with the idea of creating life in inanimate matter through artificial means.
I definitely am not creating a living being.
And I’m not horrified of what I made, of what I wrote.
But, the obsession, the struggle, is very similar.
It’s like, I’m struggling to keep my creation alive.
I remember Oscar Wilde’s quote from the book that I read.
I believe it’s from The Picture of Dorian Gray :

“He lives the poetry that he cannot write. The others write the poetry that they dare not realise.”

Plus, Oscar Wilde said, the only artist he ever known who are perfectly delightful are bad artists. Good artists exist in simply what they make, and consequently are perfectly uninteresting in what they are.
I don’t really know what to interpret from what Oscar Wilde said.
But all I know, I’m not actually making poems.
I merely wrote what I saw.
She’s the poem.
I just write things about her.
And I’m living in it.
I’m keeping her alive.

I don’t know what am I trying to accomplish.
But, it’s like I’m living my life through what I wrote.
As if I only exist in what I wrote.
And my life, it’s as if my life isn’t that important anymore.
But, well, if the creator can’t even take care of himself, how would he even manage to take a good care of his creation?

Couple days of reading without really writing things made me want to write.
Really, really want to write.
But I don’t think I have enough inspiration.
So I’m going to keep reading, at least until tomorrow.

Plus. I got something to surprise her.
What is it?
Unfortunately it’s going to be something private between me and her.
At least I think so.

For now, I’ll get some sleep.
I just realized that I’m so tired.
But I still can’t sleep, I’m trying since an hour ago.
Should I just get up and make some coffee?

.. No. I need to rest. Especially after what she said to me.
My head hurts.
I feel so heartsick.
I want to talk about things to her.
But for now, I can only talk to her indirectly through my writings.
That is, if she reads all my writings.

I honestly can’t wait to make this thing for her that I mentioned above.
But no, it’s not yet ripe.

Patience, patience.


Dear Love,

If only I wasn’t busy reading and read your text earlier, maybe I would’ve gotten enough sleep.
But thanks to what you said, I am now lying in my bed, resting my exhausted body.

I remember what you said months ago :

“Your health is a thousand times more precious than one stupid plane ticket !”

I guess you still have that inside you.
You haven’t changed a little bit in caring things about me.
You just weren’t able to do it.
That’s one of the reason why I love you so dearly.

Free to deny it all you want.
But like I said in my last poem;
You can’t change what you really are.
Even if you hide yourself in the darkest corner of your room.

I need to sleep now.
My headache is getting more and more severe.
I’ll try to sleep with all this heartsick.

.. Thank you.







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