La Vie est Belle

Life is beautiful.

See the colors of nature,

hear the sound of the wind,

feel the warmth of the sun.

Life in pink.

Love is everywhere,

open your eyes,

look around you.

Love brings you life.

Love gives you soul.

Love is beautiful.

When life is full of love,

it will be a lot more beautiful,

then coping inside your own dark clouds.

You can see,

that life is beautiful if you have love.

“La vie est une fleur dont l’amour est le miel.” – Victor Hugo


A Crush


That is how people describe it.

It is a pain,

that is not yet been felt.

You are so close,

but still feels too far away.


as I refer this to.

But you have been in this place before.

Everybody has.

It is not certain,

that some might disappear and some might stay for a long time.

It sometimes can make you smile,

sometimes brings you tears.

It is the feeling that you hate.

Like you want something,

but you are scared it does not want you back.

The fear of rejection.

The fear of losing someone,

and that you don’t have the power to control over.

The trigger to all ‘what if’ questions.

Is it love?

You feel like you are owning them,

but you are not.

A crush,

that is what it is called.

Something that will be a future lesson,

that you might find worth fighting for,

or just a waste of your time.

Look at me!

Look at me!

I am here,

breathing and existing.

Look at me!

I am here,

my black petals are blooming.

Look at me!

I know,

they have pretty pastel colors.

Won’t you notice me?

Hiding in the middle of other flowers,

trying to fit in and shine the brightest.

I was born faded black.

I was born to shield light.

I was born as a mourning sign.

But if you would just look closer and deeper,

I might reborn with a new meaning,

that a dark in between lights is more than just a jinx,

more than just tears before laugh,

that I am real and concrete,

and for you to hold.

Look at me!

Won’t you see me?


I am back into this delusional state that I call desolation. I am standing in an opened meadow under this constellation.

I see you, a black concrete figure, draw oneself up, with hands withered on both sides of your body.

Breathing a word from afar, mouthing phrases that I cannot catch, you walk falteringly like a wolf with blind staggers on a hot wild summer day. As you get closer to me, the earth beneath my feet trembles like there is an earthquake.

You are the past that I continually disavow, even when you know I am in denial of defeat.

“Submit now!” you are the trigger to my six-feet-under deathbed. You want me to revoke the closure I am using as the barrier between our past and future. Such an abnegation of reality, you say.

“No,” I say in admonishment. “Why would I?”

“Because you know that I have successfully conquered your present time.” every tone, every resonant, was adumbrated by a series of flashing images of our recent rendezvous.

I accede in agony, but still, I don’t capitulate to what is in fact true.

“I will give you one last chance,” you take a step back. Now we are two steps apart. I want to reach out to you and hold you in your previous place. Your eyes can manipulate so many things, so many feelings. They shoot me a deep and serious stare, such a dangerous weapon to kill. They are sharper than any blades that were once creating the wounds in my lungs. You offer me your hand. “Take it or walk away.”

I am in a quandary about taking a step forward or a step backward.

“You’re such a quaint!” I am trying to give us sometimes before I fall in anguish. “You’re using this old game where you can beguile me into thinking that you are the one. You keep pushing and pulling. Put aside the fake charm of yours…” my eyes have already been flooded with tears. “…and stare deep into my eyes that are filled with such indignation, then tell me how to make believe all these spurious inferences into plausible facts that you call reality!

“YOU’RE SCARED!” you are enraged and that shout nudges every heartbeat and break all bloodstreams in my veins. “How long are you going to live in the past?”

“As long as I can find someone…”

“Open your eyes!” You are half screaming in a nonchalant tone. “He is right in front of you. How will you ever see if you don’t open the door for possibilities?” You clamor for justice.

“You can stop making me the object of a surfeit of affection satisfying to you or anybody else!” I obviate the fear in me and take two steps forward until we are only an inch apart. Making a room for the tense vibrations in us to collide into an explosion. “You’re the sympathetic pariah that everyone wants me to avoid.”

“Oh, so you are just going to let strangers control your life? Like this ‘relationship’ is going to be theirs also?” You take umbrage that some point to a lack of support, you are being appointed as the truculent schemer. “You are not a people-pleaser and I do not ever make you one for myself! I am never playing this game if you never agreed at the beginning.”

“THIS IS NOT A GAME!” I start to tremble. The smoke of cold air breaks the space between us. I lower my head, making it touches your chest. I can hear a clamorous sound from inside it. Right then, I know what you feel. How you are actually handling my morose temper, or is it yours? You are holding on to something that is real.

“You made this all a game for both of us,” I hear you saying. Your voice is trailing off.

I snap my head up as soon as I realize, but you are already fading away.

“Wait!” I shout a whimpering sound, the weakest cry I ever heard of. Even in trite motions, you become more amorphous. Like smoke that is being blown by an invisible wind of desperation.

You abscond with my lungs being kept tight inside your own. I can’t breathe.

“I am taking a part of you so that you will know this last chance you keep denying was supposed to complete you.” As the sun starts to show up and the dark sky starts to evade, you smile at me. “Until then, I hope you find someone else to restore them back.”

I was once empty for a while when someone stole my lungs. Until I was sent here under the constellation being asked for the chance to have them back. You showed up. Now, you are gone and I am back to being empty, trying to grasp for oxygen. How long will I survive without my lungs? How long will it take until someone restores them back? How long…



Where’s My Love?

Wait, it is not that I am asking a literal question… (I mean, hey I don’t know where he is right now. In the future, for sure)

This is one of my favorite songs of all times! (not exaggerating, really)

SYML – Where’s My Love?

SYML (Simple in Welsh) was born from Brian Fennell’s unknown lineage and complex feelings.

I first stumbled into this song from one of Spotify’s indie folk playlist at the end of 2016 during a sad rainy day. There are so many versions of this song, (piano solo, original, alternate version, acoustic, duet) and the first version I ever heard was the alternate version and of course it touched my heart into the very core.

Cold bones. Yeah, that’s my love
She hides away, like a ghost

Does she know that we bleed the same?
Don’t wanna cry but I break that way

Cold sheets. Oh, where’s my love?
I am searching high, I’m searching low in the night

Does she know that we bleed the same?
Don’t wanna cry but I break that way

Did she run away?
Did she run away? I don’t know
If she ran away
If she ran away, come back home
Just come home

I got a fear, oh, in my blood
She was carried up into the clouds, high above

If you bled, I’ll bleed the same
If you’re scared, I’m on my way

Did you run away?
Did you run away? I don’t need to know
If you ran away
If you ran away, come back home
Just come home

If this song ain’t giving you chill, then you probably… are not an indie folk person.

This is the alternate version that I first heard (and fell in love with it after ten seconds into the intro):


This is the piano solo version, my tips for listening to this song;

  • open your window (best in the morning and when it is cloudy or raining)
  • sit on the edge of your window sill
  • put on your headphone
  • have your cup of hot (steaming will be best) coffee or milk or tea
  • turn on this song (adjust your own volume)
  • have your favorite book (if you don’t like to read, then it is optional)
  • then read (or stare out the window if you don’t fancy reading)
  • or just simply absorb the tune, let your mind wander on its own. You will be surprised at what it will find.


This is the acoustic version of the song. I found it in one of my favorite YouTube channel (for all Indie people, check this account out!)



Lover, Please Stay

I plead.

But you don’t even know it.

I beg.

But you think I am free.

I love.

But you think you are just another pit stop.

As much as I hurt myself,

I am saving it from you.

As much as you’re hurting,

I am saving yourself from me.

“I have to let you go,” I say, pleading with agony.

“Am I hurting you?” you ask with the same pain I am feeling reflecting in your eyes.

“No,” I take my hand away from your grasp.

“Then, why are you doing this?” you look at me, wanting to beg but all you can show is the sadness in your face.

I desperately want to cup your face in my both hands, brush your cheeks with my thumbs, to stare deeply into your eyes for as long as I can live,  and tell you how I actually feel. That I am happy, that I love you, that I want to be with you, but too cowardly afraid to admit that you might hurt me because I am the kind of person who looks back to the past. It is not about mine, it is about your past. The past has always been the weapon to kill. I was once killed by the past, I have not been alive enough to be killed again by it.

Why don’t you just tell him the reason? He will deceive me easily.

Maybe he’s changed! People do change, but only if they really want to. 

But you don’t even know if it’s true or not! Better prevent it happening than finding out when it becomes too late to turn away. 

“We are not meant for each other,” my heart aches. It squeezes so tight inside my chest. Oucham I dying? “We have the same personalities. None of us wants to concede.” Here I go again with the lie that I am not good at doing.

You fall silent for a moment, maybe agreeing with what I just said. If you can see it, my body shivers like there is a war inside. I pin down myself in my seat as hard as I can. If I can’t control myself, I would push myself and put my arms around you so tight and would probably never let go. If that happens, there is nothing in this world that can make me let go. That is why I need to walk away before I trip over and fall into the unending loop. I have to stop myself from getting hurt. I am broken enough. I am ruined enough.

I stood up abruptly.

You take my hand before I can start walking. “Please, stay!”

I clench my other hand. Don’t turn back! Don’t look back! Just go, run!

“Please, stay…” you say once again, sound more vulnerable.

Lover, please stay. I can hear you whisper as you’re loosening up your grip. You’re letting me go.

I don’t want to play your game or any game. Not anymore.

As I walk away,

the trail behind me follows.

We never stop for a rest,

never will.

Until we reach that stop,

that some people told it exists.

That some people called,

a happy ending.



15 Minutes

You only need 15 minutes to make someone fall in love.

15 minutes is all you need to shatter someone’s life.

To break someone’s trust, people can do it in just 15 minutes.

You can turn someone’s life upside down in just 15 minutes.

In only 15 minutes you will find out the truth about a person’s life.

I wish those 15 minutes will go away.

I keep closing my eyes, hoping those 15 minutes will pass.

I push the thoughts so hard, to avoid those 15 minutes.

I wish those 15 minutes never happened.

Because in only 15 minutes,

I have killed myself for thousands of times.

Because in only 15 minutes,

people leave me to die.

Because in only 15 minutes,

they are cheering for the pains they have caused and will cause.

Because in only 15 minutes,

I let the devil win.


Sweetheart, What Have You Done to Us?

With your smile, my world is nothing but a constellation. It was dark, but then stars start twinkling. I thought I could never find my way home, but you showed me the way. I was lost, but you guided me. Telling that everything was going to be alright because you would keep me safe. No matter what happens, you will always stay.

Sweetheart, what have you done to us?

You make me worry about what might happen and overthink about what had happened. You were a strong rock, that even a tornado would never drop your guard. But now you are moving back and forth like you are waiting for the right wind to take you. You are not sure where to go, south or north? Wherever you choose to go, will you take me?

Sweetheart, what have you done to us?

I know you are scared to make the wrong decision. I am scared too. It seems like all the choices we have is going to lead us nowhere. The question is, are we ever going to be okay with it? All the possibilities we will face, don’t forget the downs we need to get through with or without each other. Will I be holding your hands when I am at my worst and vice versa?

Sweetheart, what have you done to us?

We used to be two peas in a pod. We completed each other and fill out the emptiness we had left behind for years. You used to look at me with those fire in your eyes. You used to make me feel wanted like I had never felt before in my life. You used to occupy all the visible space in my head. Tears and bruises used to be the forgotten friends of mine. No darkness will ever come near me, even when night comes I would feel like it was the brightest day I could ever see.

Sweetheart, what have you done to us?

The light is now dimmed. The butterflies had long died. The warmth of your fingertips feels colder than I thought. Your silence, it was never there before. The fights were merely a thing for us to acknowledge. We were calm, like a breezy wind at night. But now, every once in a while we were like a seething wave. I thought we were fine.

Sweetheart, what have we done to us?

“There is something about you,” she said in the bathroom. I just came out of the cubicle to wash my hands and to fix my hair.
“Excuse me?” I asked in a complete utter surprise.
“I can see it in your eyes.” she could not take her sight off of me.
“What exactly is that if I may know?” as I smiled politely.
“Pain,” she said suddenly narrowing her eyes.
I did not say anything because I was too shocked that she could see through me. I do feel sad and so much in pain today, but I have not told any body. I have been pondering all day, is it because of my supervisor who is a total pain in the ass or is it because I am brought back to the memories of my dark days?
“Your eyes, they reflect pain. It is like you are unhappy and you are still holding on to something. You still can’t accept the torment that someone had given you, you still can’t… is it forgive or forget?” she said still studying my face.
“How do you…” I almost ran out of the bathroom, but my hair was half done.
“Darling, you have such a beautiful face. But your eyes, I can see so much pain in you! Whatever happened in the past, you have to let it go.”
“Well…” I was almost telling her the story behind everything but contemplating.
“Can you see this?” pointing to her eyes. “This is what exhaustion looks like. But every time when I see you, that sadness in your eyes, they never fade. It is a pity because you are a pretty girl.”
“Maybe it is just because today is a bad day for me.”
“I hope so,” she said while walking away out of the bathroom. “I do really hope it is only today. Don’t be sad all the time, let your bautiful face glistens with all the happiness. So people can enjoy seeing how pretty you are.”
I was still standing inside the bathroom, with the water still running from the faucet, I felt so naked. I have never felt so naked in front of a stranger before. I am not the best poker face player in this universe. But I wish somehow, I have a thick mask to cover up the draining energy out of my eyes.
I just wish that there is someone out there waiting for me to let him put on the mask right to my face and stick it there forever.

Interlude 1

A baby is a reminder to cherish every inch of adversity, to connect one life to another, to secure the sin of the past. Parents are the help for it to stand up, the only reason its life is demolished, the only cure of a loss state of mind. A life is the vessel of age and maturity, a crockery of the sweetness of times. Its heart is the enemy, the killing zone, a bomb that can calcified in anytime it’s not ready to. What life has got to do with hearts if people only use their states of mind to reflect their own words? People are hypocrites. They have thousands of faces and never showed one, whereas the masks dissolved and it fused into their shallow souls. People are irrational delusion creatures with the body of a human and the sense of animals. How can they survive the Amazon of their own egos and apathy?