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My hands
Have no greater purpose
Than to
Know your skin.

succinctlyso

// assumptions

In the oddness hours of your distance,
I find myself questioning the unnecessary
and I have tried to be an oblivious person
and pretend to forget

why does it hurt so much
to always able to learn the truth
and know that you are always right
when you always wish 
the otherwise.

i’m specially unspecial to you. 

// SAUDADE

when the same thing keeps going on a loop in your mind
you forgot that how much time have past 
as you stood there, unknowingly.
while your finger began to wrinkle from the long shower
and your thoughts began questioning you…

What is it that we are so afraid of?

Why is the pain of yours felt so small compared to the problem of the world?

Have you met someone which seems perfect for you but you know it’s not going anywhere?
How could he/she be perfect if there’s something amiss?

Would you cut your hair for him to like you?
Would you pierce your ears to be like him?
Would you write a song about him and sing it all over radio?
Would you paint your nails in his favourite colour so that he could hold you?
Would you buy his prefered scent so that he would smell you and not other girls?
Would you lose weight to fit his clothes and pants?
Would you fight with him to make him beg for you?
Would you disappear to make him realise how you matter to him?
Would you?
Would I?

I am not sure how much I would go.
But if I did, I must have fall in love.

And that action itself, as disillusion and childness it is…
Could, coincidently, also… be the most endearing and intoxicating feeling.

Black beauty. 
Life is a beautiful mishaps like what Bryan always say. 

kau bagaikan mimpi indah.
tanpa sensara
membawa jiwaku ke tempat
yang aku rindu

mataku,
matamu,
tanpa waktu.
di sana,
di sini,
hanya padamu.


andaikala. 

why, oh why,
boy, are you made so perfect?
…to destroy me.

to let you go
is to let myself know
we won’t be like those.

maybe you are right
this is all that I could be
to you
and you
oh, you. 

The more one pleases generally, the less one pleases profoundly.
— Stendhal
Trust Yourself, Trust Me Tracey EminNeon (Coral Pink/ Coral Blue)2012/11

Trust Yourself, Trust Me 
Tracey Emin
Neon (Coral Pink/ Coral Blue)
2012/11

// i trust that you trust me not

Trust is like… how one learns to swim for the first time.

First of all, one needs to accept water, the new medium. Accepting is something not everyone is able to do, sometimes it’s not that you don’t trust the person but you failed to believe you can trust the person. Like me, I ended up not knowing how to swim properly. Perhaps because i never trusted the water. Not that the water is not safe but because I failed to believe that I could float in a medium that i’ve not experience before. 

Relationships are like water.
Too much heat, it evaporates
Too much cold, it freezes and break
What we aim to achieve is to maintain it at a liquid state.
Immersing ourselves in an experiential realm of movements with a different gravity and space.
Then we are able to fall in the water without believe that we will drown.


Trust is accepting the new relationship.
It takes more than just one practice to make it perfect,
It takes a lifetime to even get one to believe in you,
Ask yourself, if you are ready to accept.
Else you’ll just keep depending on the float.

To trust me is to trust yourself.

Remove the float and open your arms
Swim and drown, if may and must.
The desire to conquer the new medium
is when trust is at it’s maximum

Trust me, not. 

I’m not sure which is worse: intense feeling, or the absence of it.— Margaret Atwoodwet pain, 30 july 2012, 2.00am

I’m not sure which is worse: intense feeling, or the absence of it.
— Margaret Atwood


wet pain, 30 july 2012, 2.00am

i’ve seen
i’ve known 
i’ve surprising let this flow
i like experiments

over and over
i was in a battle of words
never was i 
only with her
i’ve became a pastor
preaching my sin
in her designed scene

summer 
you’ve never wanted it
for if you did
we won’t just flow 
and froze beautifully
in your eyes
while I became ashes
blown in silence

it’s not a question
it’s a formula
what stays
are values
why we fight
are for reasons
how we reason
are through excuses

i’ve seen
i’ve known
i’ve surprising let this flow
maybe that’s why I like silence.

I could clearly hear
my heart pounding
either after a serious war
or during a state of disclosure.

words you said
are like sand in the sea
rubbing on my skin
so raw and sharp
unexpectedly
leaving my skin
smoother than before 

days when i blend in with the artworks, 4 April 2013, 3.50pm

days when i blend in with the artworks, 4 April 2013, 3.50pm

// Let me sip this slow

I’ve lost the power to write.
for the life i lead now,
with you,
even when you are in my arms,
while your skin stuck to mine,
and your words immersed in my soul,
perpetually,
i don’t get it,
in fact, 
it is just bruises after bruises,
and a tinge of shame,
i should get it,
but boy,
why did my heart still felt unattended? 
Have I lost the power to feel?
Indeed,
I’ve lost all of it.

THEME BY PARTI