Thinking a Lot Today

today i woke up late, because it was the first time i really slept this weekend. 

today i was late, i ate, i laughed but i was tired. so i sat and read poems on my chair, let everything blurred out of my sight, solitude, my friend. and i didn't care if i was missing out.

yesterday i woke up tiredly, woken up by the vaguest click from the clock on the wall. -- i didn't really sleep. it was 5 hours of resting my eyes, but not my mind. not my soul.

this afternoon at home, i was becoming a predator searching for its prey. i wanted noodles, but i was not hungry. so i ate a biscuit's cracks and drank. and i realized;

i was not hungry, i did not need any food. yet i craved it so much, acting like i needed it.

and so it hit me. 

do i really need happiness? and do i really need to be free? or is it just me being so dry, that i crave for the ocean. that i actually am pretty content, but i dont feel like its already enough. is it just me envying another bird who flies far away with their pretty wings, and sings. 

today i saw a girl, with her long wavy hair and her bitten nails, standing next to her mom who was looking through clothes in the shop. she was not smiling, she stand there and waited patiently. she was pretty. i suddenly felt a rush of envy, because i just knew that she was happy. 

there is something on the face of happy people. its not the flushed cheeks or the bright skin, its not the smile or the eyes. i dont even know what it is actually, but i could feel it when i saw that girl. or maybe i was just too dry, my friend, that i could have sworn Sahara was cold.

do i grateful, do i look the bright side. or do i dwell and crave because the broken jail is now too boring to be explored, and the bars are now too rusty that it sends a false hope. i thought i could break it, i thought i had collected strengths to break it. but it didn't shake an inch.

i guess both, my friend. both.

i crave for my skin to be kissed by the sun, for the sound of my wings when it flutters, for the song i sing that leaves my trail to those whom i passed. 

and i need it. i really do. to just find my own skin. to get out of this clothes and to get a new one. to remove the make ups and finally remove the scars. and finally find somewhere to nestle, to be safe, to be silent, to have a bliss of solitude, yet i could finally sigh and say, “i am happy.”


tonight is a purposely an empty night, and i just want to write. its not because its so calm here – nothing is calm enough when your mind is too loud.

we sat around the dinner table, eating. hands gripping tight the metal forks. i like silence, there is nothing too hard in it. nothing fake. nothing made up. i sat, and the dinner was simple, but delight.

we tried to talk, well maybe you did. but i was a wall and you were a ball, and no matter how hard you hit me, you would always be bounced back. so i assume you were tired of bouncing back and forth, so you stop trying. but i like it when you try, maybe you dont know.

i dont know if you already understand me – and my comfortableness of necessary silence. or you are just simply giving up on me, on us.

the dinner was over, plates were taken. the music played through the speaker was beautiful, the rain was – well, you know how i feel about rain, just like any other day. 

and then we went. we went to separate rooms, to be wrapped in our familiar blankets. without words. just slowly standing up and go. and i dont know how to feel. its a lot of emotions in here. sad, angry, disappointed, regret, tired. mostly numb – and i dont know if i was born to be numb, or things i went through made me dont feel things.

i want to talk, just as much as i want to be silent. i want to have a conversation, just as much as i want to be myself. 

i can hear your tenderness in the way you call my name. its not deniable, unfortunately. its all still there, showed by the warmth of your voice. and it makes everything sadder. it means we are okay. and this is our okay. and this is not okay.

today i saw a child on TV, he was suddenly blind when he was 7th. he seemed so happy, he laughed a lot, and he made a lot of people laughed with him. he sang. people cried for him. he was so happy, that smile touched the hearts. and i wonder; 
how could he be that happy. its dark, there. he couldnt even see how bright his orange shirt was. he could not see how the world was, not since a few years ago. he couldnt see the face of his brother and his father. he couldnt see the tears the audiences shed. but out of all his incapabilities, he could be one thing. one thing that matters. and that is happy.

i guess its true what people say; happiness is a state of mind. but honestly? mind is not an easy business.

-S x