06/06/14 - I changed the width a little so the older entries might have too-big pictures. I'll fix them once I got more time. I got a tumblr where mostly I reblogged words and pretty boys. Thanks and have a good day xx.

Tuesday, November 04, 2014

It's ironically sad, that I became two hundreds percent better at writing when I'm sad.

In my whole life, there's only been three traumatic moments which I snapped.

Yesterday was my fourth snap.

Friday, June 06, 2014

Okay someone say yay for me for not posting a sad post!

So to be honest I have no excuse to explain my absence; I have been completely off-the-mood to write anything here. I still read a lot, and writing quotes on a piece of post-it sticker has also been my hobby lately.
Last Monday I went to Gelora Bung Karno to watch Asian Dream Cup (which, yes, featuring Park Jisung and Running Man casts) with my roommate. We bought the ticket from some other girls, and got the $50 ticket for $35 only. I personally don't do haggling very well, but seems like they also don't. Ok maybe I'll post another entry about this later on.

Anyway. I've been listening to this song for two hours by now and I. Love. This. Song.
There's something about love songs; wedding songs to be exact, that have a sad tone one it. It's like you know when you're marrying the right one, you'll take them happy or sad; good or bad.
We are gonna build a life together
You and I for ever and ever
And we'll, we'll make babies on the beach
Under the stardust
I read a story accompanying this song. Well you can say it's tragedy but I'd say it romance; a sad one. It's about the end of the world by monsters, and then we have this very-in-love couple. They're not newlyweds, nor are they young, but they're still pretty much in love with with each other. They're surviving in an abandoned building; hiding from the monsters and waiting for another long night to pass.
This song plays up on their old radio, and they danced along the place singing to each other. They look at each other and reminiscing the old days. Later that night the monsters appeared and the city is in complete chaos. One of the couple tried to reach for a gun but his spouse tell him there's no use. They embraced and faced the monsters together.
No one survived the monsters outbreak that night. What's left behind is this lonely tunes.
And I'll hear your voice come through the door
A thousand times, maybe more
And I'll smile inside to know you're mine
I'm always a little terrified about death; there's something about it that got me but-I-don't-wanna-die-yet and I-still-got-many-things-to-do. But there's something in apocalypse that I don't mind dying at. It's the thought that at least I'm with people I love that calms me, I think.

Anyway. I know this entry didn't end as cheerful as I intended to be, but this story really leaves a warm feeling on my stomach I can't quite explain. So see you next time?

Saturday, March 08, 2014

letters to my father (i)

Let's say it simply.
I learned the hard way that money can't buy happiness. Sure it can buy you mint chocolate-chip ice cream with oreo topping but still --when I'm not happy I don't even consider getting out of my bed to buy a tiny cup of ice cream.

I learned the hard way, that having lunch at a place that cost 1/4 of your college tuition doesn't make you happy. Nor the nights you spend looking at Hong Kong cityscapes that cost 10 times of your monthly allowance --for a night. I learned that I was still unwanted. I am still unwanted after all these times. No matter how many tons of gold dust you sprinkle on a dirt, it's still a dirt.

I learned, in the most precise way, that the term 'crying your heart out' is somehow a correct portrait of how I spent last night crying. I learned that six tiny cubes of ice in a plastic bag can help reduce your puffy eyes efficiently.

What I learned the most was, how pathetic I was, for thinking I would be happy after I move out from your place. How stupid I was for thinking you hate me--when afterall, being angry and over-possesive is what love is for you. How terribly I long to go back to you; to your embrace, to your love.
How pathetic I am now, missing you like there's tomorrow to laugh at, to think that a dozen of tissue sheets can absorb all my liquidized feeling.

I miss you, like a rotten apple with gold painted on her body and words 'For The Fairest' tattooed on her soul missing her tree --a tree that she can't go back growing from anymore.

letters to my father
on how money can't buy happiness