Like someone said, the most dangerous question about love will always be this:

“Would they still love you the same way if they knew about the darkest corners of your head and the wars you fight every night with terrible monsters that live within you instead of under your bed?”

A question that everyone would ask their lovers. A question that test the bond of their heart with their lovers. A question that would change the meaning of love for them.

Yet, for me, its an unnecessary question. Why would I question that to the most beautiful person I’ve ever met? For someone that deserve more than anything in this world? Someone beyond compare? Someone that’s just so damn brave?

She’s the girl whose name dies at my lips every single time I try to speak of her. She’s not a girl I would tell everyone about. She’s my addiction, my obsession, my muse, and my very definition of love. She’s not just a mere cup of tea for me. She’s my absinthe.

It was a question that she does not need. A question that deserves no answer. For she has all the answer that she needs. No, she’s the goddamn answer. And if anyone’s too stupid to interpret the meaning of it, it’s a yes.

I don’t care if I’m just repeating things that I’ve said about her. It was a yes, still a yes, and would always be a yes. Yes, yes, and yes. Billions of times yes. I’ll still love her.



27-06-2016. [2]


What would I give

To wake to the morning sun
Upon the landscape of your skin;
Or to steal a glance from pretend work
Just to see you absorbed in what you are doing;

Better yet, to wait for you at the end of the day.
To get beers, and take the last train or bus,
And while you rest your head on my chest,
I’ll hold you tight,
I’ll run my fingers through your hair and smile.

And we’d watch the lonely night fly by.
As we bloom like bouquet of rainbow colours.
As we collided vibrantly,
Giving each other wings on which we will fly.

Oh what would I give.

What would I give.


What would I bloody give.




Away from the world you closed all your doors,
Splattering your pain across the halls.
You ignored all my knocks,
Hiding beneath your ice cold walls.

Love, I just want to undress your fears.

I dare to stand for you when no one else does.
When you are standing, broken-hearted,
With blood dripping fresh from your wounds.

I dare to hold out my hand, and make sense of the mess.
Let me say that you’re not alone.
Let your heart open, as you share your pain with my soul.

You could tell me to leave that pain alone.
To unfeel it, to unsee it. To keep it beneath the shadows.
You could tell me that it is not worthy of the light.
You could tell me that it is not worthy of my love.

But Love, I will persist.
I will press my hands – all my fingers – to you.
To the softness of the center of your heart.
And I will hold my gaze to you,
And I will whisper slowly right beside your ear:

“I will love all of you until you love all of you,
And long after that, too.”





It is easy enough
To fall in love with her smile,
The truthful happiness
That plays upon her face.

But I’ve learned
To cherish the scars upon her soul,
And relish the darkness that resides
Within her fractured heart.

For there is beauty in all that she is:
For she kiss the world silently,
With the soul within her eyes.

And she never ask for a reply.

I love her
Every day, every way,
With every piece of my soul.

I love her
As much as I could love her.
As far as the limits
Of myself could bear.

And I miss her so much more,
Just like the depths
Of the ocean
Miss the air.




Dear Love,

I blame the Uber driver for what I am feeling right now.
Not you, not me, not anyone else;
Just the goddamn Uber driver.
Or maybe not, maybe I should blame the radio station.
Or the certain person whom requested that song.


I was on my way back to the office using Uber about three hours ago.
I was and still am having a cold, you could say it’s quite severe and all.
And well, I was trying to get at least some nap.
The streets were packed as always.
The only good thing was the sky is clear, and I’ve done my job for the week.
Love, I thought I could get full rest for today.
Seems like I was horribly wrong.

The driver turned the radio to a certain channel.
And, the radio channel was just about to play a song.
A song that you, and I know very, very well.
It successfully broke the cage I’ve made for my own heart, along with all the feelings that resurfaced from beneath the pile of filthy, sticky things called work.
The memories come back like a sudden rainstorm in the middle of a desert.
The song made me remember about how we used to measure distance between us.
About how we were dying to meet each other, to feel each other’s love on our skin, emerged in our hugs, kisses, or even just by looking at each other’s eyes face to face.
And it made me remember the time I woke up an hour before dawn, looking outside the window of your place, and looking at your sleeping face.

And I still haven’t forget the way you peacefully snore.
Oh don’t worry, it’s lovely.
I would kill to be able to listen to it beside my bed every single night.

Love, Vanessa Cartlon’s song A Thousand Miles made me remember all of those.

It made me space out, looking outside the car, and think of stupid questions.
And from all of those stupid questions, the most stupid one was:

“Would you feel the same thing as I am feeling right now? Or would you at least remember about me and all the things that we’ve had together? All the ‘amazing memories’ we had even though it was just for a few days?”

I don’t know what’s the answer, and I know that I won’t be able to know the answer.
Oh, at least not anytime soon.
And yes, I do need you, miss you, and whatever it is that is written in the song.
And I would – literally, metaphorically, figuratively, whatever – walk a thousand miles if I could just see you tonight.
The only thing that made me thinking was the chorus.

Do you think time, would pass us by?

To pass by something means that to walk past something without paying any attention to it, and in this case, time, would walk past us without paying us attention.
Now I don’t know what it really means or if maybe Vanessa Cartlon was just drunk and didn’t know what she wrote, but it still means something to me.
Because love, I don’t want to time pass by between us that the time makes us – or maybe we make ourselves – miss every single beautiful thing about us in life.
Now, do you think time would pass us by?
Do you wonder the same thing as I do?

Do you wonder if the time would walk past us and ignore us?
Do you think we would miss our opportunity to do things together?
Or do you think the Universe itself have her own timing for us?

Now don’t ask me my answer, because you yourself already know the answer.
I said it, and I wrote it thousands of times.
And I hope what I wished – and it is one thing that I always wish – come true.

Love, maybe you would say that it was all your fault.
Maybe you would say that it was you that actually gave me memories on that song.
Or, even you, gave yourself memories about that song about us.
But, Love, let me tell you that you actually made the song a thousand times more beautiful that it actually is, that you made the song matters to both of us.
If it’s not because of you, the song would be just another song that I first heard when I was in junior high school, and I got to admit, the song was pretty good.
Now, it’s different.
It’s not good, bad, best, or whatever it is the label that you want to give it.
Like I said, it’s different.
It’s something else.
I can’t actually explains it, but at least I could translate and tell you on what would happen inside of me whenever I hear that song:

My heart would resurface again, and again, and again beating itself out with my love for you, even if it’s buried a thousand meters deep beneath anything.

And so, about what I said about blaming the Uver driver.
I do still blame him – the driver.
Or the radio station.
Or the radio host.
Or the certain person who requested the song.
Whatever, I don’t really care about whom being the root cause of the song being played on the certain radio three hours ago.
All I want to say is, perhaps it was a good blame.
Thank them? No; I’m not going to thank them, I’m going to blame them for what happened to my heart that resurfaced from all the stupid things inside of me.

Without them, I will still be beneath all the things that I created for my own heart, just to numb myself and stopped it from screaming my love for you.
Yes, I blame them for that.

But I’m going to thank them for reminding me all of the things about us.
I’m going to thank them for randomly strengthen the love that I have for you.
‘Randomly’? Yes. Because it was totally random.
I mean, what are the chances of me hearing that song at that hour?
And, like I said before, there’s no such thing as a coincidence.

Only plans that the Universe have for us.

Now you see what I said about the Universe and us?

Perhaps the whole Universe have a plan for us.
Maybe they have something up their sleeves for us.
Maybe because they understand that I understand about Universe more than most people do, because they know what my Universe is like, and it’s not all about them.
My Universe is not about space, stars, galaxy, planets, or whatever.

It’s all about you.

You, Love, are my universe.
My all, my everything.






4 A.M.

It’s one of those hours where you
           are wrapped around my mind,
           causing thundering madness,
           from which I can’t seem to escape.

Where I tremble with silence,
           and shatter with dying stars.




While my thoughts were quiet,
And the unspoken words
Were sealed with my trembling lips
Inside my mouth,
My hands were screaming.



Tell me; or rather, tell her.
How is her right so wrong for them?

She could pretend just for the sake of imagined obligations,
To have forgotten the taste of emotional subjugation.
She could sing of the smiles and ignore all the tears,
Picking and choosing her way through the years.


Her heart is a lion, and her mind is a beast,
The ways they choose most are the days she choose least.
They hold on to the pictures of her that they like,
While the reflections of sorrow are drawn where she writes.

But NO familial ties are stronger than truth,
And no flooded basements are seen from the roof.

So I hope she takes what they gave her,
And let them spread words of her ‘crime’.
For she has broken her own ground;
For she is currently standing outside of time.

And they should make fast of their lines, and sink their anchor low,
For they will never see her where she needs to go.

No, she has no hard feelings,
And no bitter grudge.

For her life is her own,
And not theirs to judge.




That even the powerful trees quiver
At the touch of a single raindrop
Falling from the clouds.

Even the steadfast mountain crumble
At the slightest brush, or gust of wind.

And even the beautiful sun
Must fall each night to regain her strength,
To face another day.

And, Love, you might be strong –
I know that you are.
But like the trees, you will quiver.
And like the mountains, you will crumble.
And like the sun, you will fall.

But you will get back up.

And I promise, you will be okay.




“You are burying yourself in your work.”

I looked up to the source of the voice and gave her a straight face.

“Am I now?”

“You are. You literally stayed here overnight and haven’t done anything since other than doing your work. You have been staring at the same kind of screen since 7 P.M. last night. and it’s almost 8 A.M.”
“Aren’t you tired? Are you insane? Are you okay?”

“Oh I’m fine. I just got a lot of work that I need to finish.”

She shook her head, gave me a pat on my right shoulder, and walked away.


It was my co-worker.
She invited me to go with my other co-workers last night for a drink.
And I said no, I said that I still need to do some of my work.
And seems like I forgot to go back home.
Those questions she asked made me thinking.

Am I tired? Am I being insane? Am I Okay?

I guess the answer “no” answers those three questions.
I’m not tired, I’m not insane – at least the last time I checked I knew that I am not – and I am not okay; oh I definitely am not goddamn okay.
I began to realize that on the days where I miss her (not the co-worker) the most, I always being like this: completely put myself under my work.

And I let my work to bury me underneath them.

Honestly, writing is not helping.
I mean, it does help, in channeling out my feelings inside of me.
But, when it comes to distraction, writing does not help me at all.
Just like now.
I said to myself that I need to stop labeling my work as distraction.
But I can’t help it, oh I just can’t.
Other thing I realized is that I am going to stick to this routine for a long time:

Work, write, read, sleep – rinse, and repeat.

Maybe even for a very, very long, long time.


Dear Love,

I never wanted everything from you.
Not the book, not the cake, not the writing.
Not even the hugs, the kisses, or the long extensive talk we had.

I just want to be your everything.

And that’s all I ever wanted from you.





Sometimes, sometimes humans are hard to understand.

And sometimes, they aren’t.
The truth is, most of the time, we – humans – aren’t.

We just chose to look at them with our own glasses,
with our own state of complicacy.


Yesterday, I was checking out a certain social media.
It has to do with something related to another book-related social media.
And I saw.. I saw her posting something.

“Kill them with kindness.”

And I thought, ha, something going on?
I don’t know how or why she posted that thing,
But I cant help to wonder if there’s something around going on with her.
Or maybe it’s just something related to what happened to her earlier.
That.. Fateful day, for me, and for her.

Nevertheless, I do agree with what she posted.
I’ve said this numerous times,
But honestly, I could relate with those words.
Since years ago, maybe since I was in high school, people always say to me that I am being too nice to people.
That I should be more cruel, and less understanding to people.
Simply because people won’t do the same thing to you.
Simply because, you will start to have expectations for them.

But I disagree.
I don’t think kindness is something bad.
Yes, I know what there are some people that would use your kindness, they will suck whatever it is that they can get, down to your marrow.
They will take you for granted because of what you have.
They will look at you with a jaundiced eye.
Because, let me tell you the truth.
Let me tell you the reality of it all:

Most people don’t give a fuck about your pain.
They don’t care about your hurting.
They only want kindness from other people.
Because most of them are too busy caring about not getting hurt, that sometimes they forget that you are a human, too.
And sometimes,
Sometimes in the midst of all of that, they break you, while hoping that they could make themselves whole once again.
And, you see, it all becomes a cycle of who cares less,
It all becomes a cycle of who heals faster.

And let me tell you, it is a cycle I have no wish to be part of.

I don’t care about what people might say.
This is what I am.
And I’m sure that there is no wrong in spreading kindness.
Maybe kindness is contagious, and maybe it is not.
I don’t really know, and I don’t really care.
All I know I’m doing this because I generally am like to be nice to people.
There will be some people around you that will question your kindness.
And people around you that will take your kindness for granted.

Besides, doing kindness doesn’t require anything from you.

But there is something different with compassion.
Compassion is when we reach out to help a person who is suffering,
When we reach out to help a person who is unhappy.
That, is compassion.
Kindness is simply an act of being friendly to everyone we meet.
And we don’t care about what is happening to them.
We don’t care about their circumstances.
We just be nice, and be friendly to them.
Now that, is kindness.

Many people mistakes compassion for kindness.
We could be kind without even have try to help anyone.

Oh I talked about this shit numerous times.
Just because there are so many people that turned spitefully bitter after doing some random act of kindness.
Well, they are not wrong for turning bitter.
Or maybe they are, I don’t really know.
But the thing is, I don’t think that we need to turn bitter just because we had a rough times, just because something happened to us.

Now I wonder what’s the deal with ‘those’ kind of people.
People that like to belittle people,
People that.. Like to use other people’s kindness.
People that think that kindness is something bad.
Even one of my older cousins said this sentence to me once when she was back from Belgium few months ago:

“Being kind to people is something that I should NOT have done. I’ve been so kind to people, yet I got nothing but being used by people around me. When you are being kind to other people, they will start to think that they could use you, that they could use your kindness. So let me tell you, just do NOT be nice to people. Be evil. Fuck kindness, it brings nothing but sadness to ourselves. Oh I brought kindness to other people and they give me nothing but asshole-like treatments.”

Well, I could relate to those words.
I mean, I know other people that just turned bitter because of what they have been through, because of what happened to them.
That was one perfect example, tho.
And no, I don’t want to turn like that.
I don’t want to become someone like that.
I don’t want to be afraid to do something to people because some other people did something bad to me.
And in this case, I won’t stop doing kindness to people just because some other people were being an asshole to me eventhough I did some kindness to them.

Besides, what wisdom can you find that is greater that kindness?

So I usually tell people that I am generally pretty nice.
Oh I am, I love being kind to people.
So if there’s an even where I am being an asshole to someone, then the wrong is not on my side – do not ask me why am I being an asshole.

So let me tell you – I could safely say that if I’m being an asshole to you, then there must be something wrong with you, period.

Never push someone nice way over their limits.
Everyone has one, even me.
When you have the chance to be nice to people, be one.
While I know that there are some people that DO NOT deserve your kindness – the kind of assholes that I would be an asshole to – there is nothing wrong by generally being kind to everyone.
It does not cost you anything, really.

Heck, the world will be a better place if people start to do even one small act of random kindness every single day.


Dear Love,

Let me tell you the paradoxical commandments I read months ago.
Read carefully.
Here goes:


People are illogical, unreasonable, and self-centered.
Love them anyway.

If you do good, people will accuse you of selfish ulterior motives.
Do good anyway.

If you are successful, you will win false friends and true enemies.
Succeed anyway.

The good you do today will be forgotten tomorrow.
Do good anyway.

Honesty and frankness make you vulnerable.
Be honest and frank anyway.

The biggest men and women with the biggest ideas can be shot down by the smallest men and women with the smallest minds.
Think big anyway.

People favor underdogs but follow only top dogs.
Fight for a few underdogs anyway.

What you spend years building may be destroyed overnight.
Build anyway.

People really need help but may attack you if you do help them.
Help people anyway.

Give the world the best you have and you’ll get kicked in the teeth.
Give the world the best you have anyway.


You see, Love, there is no such thing as going through something in silent just for fun. I know that it is seldom fun.
And it is fucking tiring. Yes. I understand.
I know that it always nerve-wracking.
I know that it’s demoralizing and seemingly impossible.

Love, I know that you are doing your work close to people.
I mean, you are doing it for the community.
Simply put, you are in it for other people.

Let me tell you that you may not always succeed.

I don’t want to sugarcoat anything. I just want to say something real.
Yes, it’s true that we have to think positive, but we can’t omit the possibilities of it being crushed to pieces – of it being totally fail.

Let me ask you once again to sit down and think about something.
Love, the approach that you take does not require saints.
And it does not make you a martyr.
Because I am kind of convinced that if you are helping people for your sake and not theirs, you will never be satisfied.
If you are out for glory, then you will never have enough.
You will never be happy.

On the other hand, if you really want to help and all, then don’t ask for a recognition, because lack of recognition is no great tragedy.
Oh you can buy glory and recognition, sure.
But you can NOT buy the meaning behind those things.
Because satisfaction have to come from the inside.

Even newspaper or article headlines can’t give it to you.

But let me tell you that you are doing the best thing right now.
You are doing things which are really meaningful.
For both you and the people around you.
Love, you are working at your potential.
And I believe there would be no regrets if you are doing it to your heart’s content.
Because you are doing the most you can.

Because you, are doing the best you can.

Although, NEVER do something that you don’t like doing.
Just.. Don’t. It’s like slowly killing yourself every single day.
Nevertheless, I believe that you are doing whatever it is that you are doing right now – and I really want to know – because you love doing it.

Read the paradoxical commandments once again.

One last thing:
Deep kindness, along with something sincere and real is always good.
Let’s call it people-consciousness.
And when you do kindness to other people, it could give you happiness.
Just don’t do it for yourself.
Work for the cause, not for the applause.

And believe me, it could be the happiest thing that ever happens to you.

Hugs and kisses,