Bus 1 By: a hurricane between the rain No comments

Photo by Rishiraj Singh Parmar from Pexels

In the center of town, people come and go.
Dim lights, busy crosswalks, a light breeze; all will accompany you when you leave.
A 31-story building on a major thoroughfare is not an exception; its doors are wide open for anyone to leave their full-of-thoughts mind there.
People are supposed to head back to their sheets, where the warmness for their exhausted souls exists, and the lobby's door may be the place for them to remove any worries.
But my worries didn't unpack themselves that night.
They were oblivious.
Spinning around my head, they were trying to remind me of what might happen, but they got into arguments with Happiness.
Does something beautiful always come up with unplanned tension?

If that Wednesday was spring, the petals would've been so confused about whether to bloom or wither.
They couldn't draw themselves from the mixed-up notion.
Like the number 1 bus that picked us up that night, all moved in a blur.
All at once.
Like the black watch on your wrist, all seems perfect in its place,
Until the petals have to encounter autumn.

Spring day hasn't come yet,
Neither has an answer to my longing journey.
But I knew the bright days were going to happen when you turned around and said,
"Do your feet hurt?"
I, who lied back on the partition glass, had nothing to do except lowered my gaze on the high heels I wore and said, "Not quite, though."
And you giggled like a little child being amused by something unnecessary.

And that made the petals bloom even it wasn't spring.

—16 December 2020.

not everything has an answer (at least for now) By: a hurricane between the rain No comments

I guess, everything in life settles to the least expected track.

It's funny.

Every time I chase for something, I fail. At the least expected time, I end up at the least liekly moment. Over and over again. The cycle forms until I doubt if I ever gonna make it according to plans. Is it better to drop everything and dream nothing? Is it better not to have goals and just keep going on with the flow? Meanwhile, they say you should set targets to reach. At this quarter-life crisis, I often ask myself: "Which one should I follow?"

If I choose to follow the plans and dreams, I've flunked to determine which one of the dreams is real for me. I failed to distinguish between lust or a dream and trapped in a bottomless ravine which I thought was a dream. But if I choose to go with the flow and expect nothing, my life would be dull without some sugar and salt.

Now I don't know whether it is applicable enough to pursue a serious and committed relationship or not. I spent my life ended up with people I'd never thought of, but then marriage requires you to organize everything because it is sacred and is hoped to be the first and the last. So which one is better? Picking out a person to be my groom and designing a future with him, or just spontaneous hopping into a relationship and staying as long as there's no trouble?

Is it okay to feel tired and clueless?

Healer By: a hurricane between the rain No comments

A song, maybe?

At the time I'm going to move forward
I run the miles back to the soberest state of mind
The road is greedy
So I fall and caged by the same slammer
That used to trap me with sweet talk and promises
So hard to take it
Yet so haunting to get off
On the night I no longer want anything but loyalty
He got me again
Despite being the place where I lost myself

The shoulder you offer without being asked
The ears of a good listener
Slowly bring me back into a whole again
We have those eyes of broken hearts
Being scared of what life might put us through
Building self-protection up too high
Trying to fix each other
But lose control so often
Fall treacherously deep into a who's-wrong-and-who's-right game
And end up hurting

This is not only about being crushed by betrayals and lies
It's like part of me has mentally ripped off a half
At least that's what's my supportive mind can't handle properly
Because I'm a loser
And I know that

I'm sorry

By the last chance my brain got ignorant,
I put all the scattered pieces of me and stand up
I want to go home and heal my wounds
It's never been easy to trust a doctor
But I'll try because it's you

I've always tried

So please don't go

Or pour some more gasoline on the ember

The fire's sometimes too wild to tame

And I'm either too fragile or too strong to fight

I just want to be with you and heal everything

Nothing else

This night,

Blow me a kiss on the forehead

Let us dive into the peace of dream

Forget all the breakdowns

And let's try to love again tomorrow

Forever.

—b, 08/19/18

This Is Daniel Altan Wing to Junebug By: a hurricane between the rain No comments

Beneath the sombre and starless sky
When land has devolved into two warring countries
And everything's gone wrong
I was a street rebel, lonely, and homeless
Born into the slums
My whole life is always been in chaos
The plague ripped through The Colonies
Causing an endless havoc
And the death of my family.

With the houses full of marks
The truth's buried in beautiful lies
Smoke decorates the unholy clouds
There was nowhere to go
Mouths were shut
So were the iron bars.

There in the dark cube
I was locked with insolent emptiness
Away from collapsed roofs and walls
From the roar of people's thirst for power
From the suddenly incoming tanks
From the sound of smashed doors and women's screams
And for a brief moment, I was happy
But the armed foxes always sleep nicely on their bouncy beds
Never have the anger and misery to undergo when they know they're clean
But are arraigned on a charge of a felony they've never done.



But then you came.



—this is Daniel Altan Wing to Junebug

inspired by the book "Legend" by Marie Lu

Three Months Ago I Was Yours By: a hurricane between the rain No comments

As I am growing older, I tend to understand how love works.

It's not about showing up at her door with colourful roses,
But it's about showing up at her door when her day was a whole mess because that's when she needs you the most.

It's not about spending hundreds of dollars for her birthday,
But it's about you remember it and being there for her, either physically or virtually, and a lot of your hard work will always beat the price tag.

It's not about being someone whom she's being with every day,
But it's about being someone whom she's first running into when she has good or bad news, or perhaps just a little odd thing that doesn't mean anything but she just wants to talk about it with you.

It's not about the endless chats and being in contact for the entire day,
But it's about you who should understand that everybody lives not just for you. They live for themselves, their friends, their family—and they have dreams. Instead of judging her for being busy all day, why don't you support her and maybe, help her? When she's finally got what she's been dreaming of, trust me, she's just gonna love you much more because she knows that you were also a part of her drudgery.

You don't have to be sorry for abandoning her chat for accidentally falling asleep because what's wrong with falling asleep? We're both humans and that's normal.

And maybe people should stop seeing their man and woman as their lover, but try to start seeing them as a friend of their life? Since the term of 'lover' is now often misunderstood, thinking that the one who should always be standing up for their goods is the man, forgetting that in order for a rocket to launch, there should be an effort from the thrusters, and a man is a human too.

So,
If you want to be with her,
Just stay.
Be honest.
Trust her.
Respect for each other.
And talk sincerely.
If you have those five things in your mind,
You'll never have the thought of seeing another girl behind her back,
You'll never have 'a busy day' as self-defence for not wanting to communicate with her,
You'll never randomly say "But, I love you" as an excuse when you fight,
And,
You'll stay.
Because that's already more than enough.

Adulting Is Not My Favourite By: a hurricane between the rain No comments

I recall myself picking up the phone from a boy who memorized my residential number better than anyone. I could sit there on the armchair for an hour, with the indistinct sound of his mom reminding him to eat, and not some cheesy chat bubbles that'd be gone after several months.

I recall myself as a kid playing hide and seek with him, who always hid on the same, favourite spots. Not just sitting under a tree, watching a football game.

I recall myself going to his house in need of an evening bike-riding companion; when he gave me the newly released computer game and not a hundred dollars worthed flowers for an attempt to impress me.

I recall myself waking up on the bed from a car trip doze off, trying to remember how I ended up there. Breakfast and cartoon movies were all I had on the list, the times where I didn't have to check my phone and type an explanation that I fell asleep last night.

I recall my dad reminding me not to sleep without brushing my teeth, just years ago before the reminder turned into "don't go home too late" when I was on a date.

I recall myself crying when mom didn't buy me a SpongeBob, being clueless about heartbreaks which surprisingly are tearjerker too.

I recall myself figuring pain as a bleeding knee, not knowing that pain now is more twisted than that.

I recall myself studying hard because they told me that it was all for good things to happen, but sadly they forgot to tell me to do the things I love.

I recall myself being unreasonably too excited over marriage life, seeing uncles and aunties living happily with their babies, without being told that I had to go through abundance series of bitter romance with assholes before getting into that stage. Everything was just fine when lies were all about unicorns, tooth fairy taking your lost tooth from under the pillow, and is not about excusing yourself for some work to do while you're busy having dinner with someone else. Seems like boys were only told to treat women like her mother, that they forgot to tell them not to treat more than one at the same time.

When coming-of-age movies framed first kiss and high school as the gate to our teenage dream, they failed to train me how to survive from monsters and backstabbers inside it. They only told me to dream high without giving me ways to heal from severe failures. And after apprising me to unfailingly be myself, they'd never told why Disney princesses were always so thin and pretty.

So, mom, dad, why did you pat my head and smile when I said I wanted to be an adult back then?

How irony.

point to think about By: a hurricane between the rain No comments

Here's one thing:

You'll never truly realise how toxic your relationship is until you're out of there and see it from everyone's perspective. At that time you will perceive that it was you who always wanted to go back to where it was perfect, so you denied everything you beheld and stayed with that person.

When you were seven, you might think it was daft when someone said love is blind. But now you gotta believe it is.

So let's stick this in your mind:

Be only with someone who makes you improve rather than someone who makes you have to downgrade yourself just to be with them. A person like that is never worth it to be kept. You're a priceless art, don't befoul it with paint that doesn't give you a deep colour. If they really want to be with you, they'll never let you lose the true value of your being.

—b

Attachment Is The Root of All Suffering By: a hurricane between the rain No comments

Look at this world as a Cartesian coordinate system. Not every line in life is supposed to be parallel with each other. Those lines will meet at a certain point only to split sooner or later, then done. They will go through different ways. No matter how hard the line tries to reach its (previous) partner, it will never reunite because everything's going on, all's going on, and it keeps going straight so that the distance itself will grow wider. And it can't shorten itself to meet each other again because we have time.

Well, now let's talking about the meeting point: where the magic happens.

You meet someone. You start talking with them, finding out about their hobbies, exchanging each other's pasts, and sharing your kinds of music. You start to examine their whole: the way they walk, the sound of their laugh, or the t-shirt they have worn twice. And then you grow feelings. No, you will never be aware of what's going on until you feel there's something wrong with your day if they're not there or how much do you want the clock to tick faster on weekends. Not until you're seeing them chillin' too close with someone opposite and you hate it because it's not you.

Now your nights aren't lonely anymore. Your late-hours are not filled with the image of you scrolling down the timeline: it will be you getting tired on thumbs for typing too often. While walking towards the school gate, there will be someone being your tail, holding your bag while you're holding theirs. You will be asked for what you're gonna eat on break time, then you will ask for another spoon while ordering. You will be late for the next class because you have here and there to wander aimlessly together. You will not be a homey person anymore and get to know new places. Those ones you've never been. Those ones you've never heard of. Those ones you used to have no idea of getting there. And last, when the school's over, your shoes will know where to go, and your mouth will know whom should it throw a goodbye. You will wave at each other, then disappear with the shadows.

And then it comes the time when you realise it was the last. The last of everything. Because you know, you know that today, tomorrow, or the following days after, it will never be the same again. At that moment, you will replay the days you had together, and that little regret of why didn't you do a bit much knowing that it would be the last will appear to the surface.

Sure, there will always be a reason behind the left of someone, whether it does make sense or not, it is a reason. About the promises that have been made, oh I feel so sorry because it isn't anyone's fault that it turned out to be over on account of disappointment. Everyone is so busy suffering fright caused by time, distance, new people, or fading feelings, that they are not mindful of how much the outcome of a disappointed heart would influence the castle they've built. Not as far as they know, the flames from a jealous soul could also burn out the entire thing.

So, starting from now, you will not be seeing that shuttle bus stop the same way again. The rain will make you feel hollow, and those rainy songs won't help. Nobody to share a blueberry pie with. No random stops at McDonald's. No cute, simple little surprises at your door. No farewell hugs. No sudden guest arrival at your table to snatch a spoonful of your lunch. 

And the chair beside you will be empty. You will say your phone is always hushed no matter how many chats you receive just because you're not getting a single one from that one person. You will feel like you're not going home even though you're on the way home just because you go by yourself.

That's why it is very risky and dangerous to ever talk to and be with someone every single day. Because once you stop doing that, another part of you is also gone with them. Feelings wane, memories packed, but that yearning for them to fill up the blank spaces is still there, destroying you with every fragment you discontinue to get.

Because, darling, doesn't matter how well you prepared, it has never been easy to wake under a black sky only to find that the sun's no longer there.

—b, 07/1/17

How The Tense Changes By: a hurricane between the rain No comments

It is when you're not remembering the day you've been planned for.

It is when you're not dying to go early just to watch him perform.

It is when you're not going to do some fake handwashing just to see how fine he plays football.

It is when you're not wondering what love song he listens to on Path tells about.

It is when you're not expecting his name anymore while unlocking the phone.

When you two meet,

you both smile,

but are not sharing the same wrinkles under the eyes.

You will go to a movie,

but will not be intertwined with each other's arm.

You will eat doughnuts with the same flavour together,

but will not sit on the same corner anymore.

You will be put on a packed hall together and are not going to tiptoe around to search for the sight of his hair.

You will not shout his name to say don't when the rain comes and he still wants to go.

When he lits a cigarette,

you will standstill,

and are not going to attack him with thousand words of a lecture.

You will have a big, happy day and are not going to run into him anymore to tell everything you've been through.

And when you do that fist bump before leaving,

when you tell him a short story,

when you both laugh at the same thing,

you're not going to look into his eyes anymore.

And if you do,

you will find nothing.

And I think it's just how the tense changes.

.[love]

[loved].

—b, 17/12/16

Long Ago By: a hurricane between the rain No comments

It was long ago,
where you were closer to me than yesterday,
and where you made me more sanguine than tomorrow.

It was long ago,
where your silhouette was there,
and I was iron to its magnet.

It was long ago,
where I loved rain more than today,
and where I would rather get soaked than wait.

It was long ago,
where I checked the Cinema 21 website more often than these days,
and where I craved for Saturdays more impatiently than I did for a long holiday last year.

It was long ago,
where the ring of school bell was more worth it to wait,
and where my shoes knew where to go better than that afternoon.

It was long ago,
where 1 AM was not a sleeping hour,
where a late-night conversation delivered me more butterflies than tonight.

It was long ago,
where you would rest your head on my shoulder,
and where we would hug before a goodbye like that Saturday.

It was long ago,
where I could make you smile wider than an ocean,
and where you could take me to The Moon faster than any rockets could ever do.


And it is today,
where our lines sunder,
and where the touch of your hand feels stranger than we were two years ago.


—b, 09/12/16