tell the world

Isn't it funny how we perceive thing. We emphasize on how lonely we are, when we can sleep in a small clean bed, you get monthly salary from a job that doesn't suck that much yet you keep complaining, questioning on how the world is nothing but time to be wasted, and you feel such enormous gravity to feel stuck and lonely.

If someone's mind could prioritize on what needs to be felt, to think about, there would be no war. We all just feel a bit confused inside, we know we need to appreciate small stuff, and want to feel safe yet somehow such anxiety keeps crawling to your skin. You keep repeating on your silent whispers,"when am I supposed to be home?" When you are home already.

Isn't this kinda nice already? I'm in my room, lights are off. What is left to be angry about, to be sad about?

Brutally honest

People lie.

Ever since I was a kid, I was told that sometimes you need to cover your ass, by doing a small harmless lie. So everytime I reached my classroom late, I kept telling my lecturer that there was an accident, someone died, etc.

Until I realize that it is becoming a habit, I told my mom that the food was great even though it was mediocre, I told my gf that her shoes matched her skirt, and one day I felt that I no longer do it for myself, I do it for leisure, I do it to create friends, and sometimes to protect people from harsh facts.

I did once think that it was unhealthy to do this, because you keep avoiding facts and try to please or impress everyone with it.

And I forget what it is like to have a pure opinion about something, to be with someone without hiding bad stuff and only show the good side of everything. I seem like to be afraid of what might happen if I stay truthful with my words.

So is there a person out there who is brutally honest?

Two

6.57

It always is this late. You always try to leave earlier so you'll hopefully arrive back home before 7. But you're still here somewhere long way to go. You're still the same person sitting sometimes standing in the middle of impossible crowd that you can't stand.

Here you are again, wearing the same navy blue hoodie, and you keep playing the same tracks on your phones while mumbling the lyrics that grow weary, you abuse your favorite songs.

"What kind of change do I need so I'll go places. What kind of noble purpose should I chase or pursue. Ultimately, why am I able to sit still complaining about this same thought that has been bothering me for months."

You are not happy. So what can you do about it?

There's part of me

"Why do all good things come to an end?" I start questioning about the sustainability of good things in life.

I'm not really sure about how they call this in engineering, but efficiency and productivity come deteriorated after years. I start mumbling, arranging words inside my head saying "people aren't machine, they can choose to be better for themselves or not", while my mind contradicts soon that some people decide differently.

It felt really nice at first, we came passing through each other like a beautifully arranged coincidence by universe, we just frequently talked like we knew each other's body moles. It happily concluded to here and there, where all the laughters were everywhere, we couldn't stop smiling about a sentence that was written, it was real, it felt real, we said.

The adhesive that bonded us seemed made to last forever at first, like some things that are meant to be together. However the electrons seem to compensate and compromise too much, it loses its energy to stick one to another, so it loses its shape. We come to a level zero again, my life and your life.

Everything that is made in this life is somehow designed to reach an equilibrium, a state where you stop trying so hard about anything and everything, don't mind about the compressed gas and stuff, I'm just telling this so it can be figuratively explained.

If finally all the beautiful things that already came and went through my life is reaching that level, and you my most beloved person has to go. I promise to be nice and speak well of you, because you're the nicest creature ever born.

Things will be better, I'll be happier if I no longer fight back. And you will too.

I love you, and always will.

RG

part of you is just a lil bit rebellious

A bit too indie, a bit too full of love, a bit too poetic, and every adjustments that are created exceed the normal margin.

What if, all you ever believe at the end hits you really hard, knocks you down. You lie down watching the stars, scratching the gap between your eyebrows, and decide to start noticing that stars that are seen might probably be dead now and all the dead stars are there just to set the sky to be a little bit starry, their existence are recognized after like, what, twenty thousand years. With all the hours that have been spent, you try to compensate in just a single night, to have a little conversation with yourself.

You do want something. Something deep, but simple to be explained. It is so light you can explain it to your kids, but as well heavy to share it with your future wife's parents.Just a little bit of ego that never dominates you for twenty one years, just a little bit of lust, but you always need a pack of self control. 

So your journey begins. Your last semester in the university, your CV is now well written according to your perspective, your girlfriend is supporting you (now), friends are scattered, and your parents talk to you more frequent than ever. You're supposed to be a grown up with their wrinkle worrying forehead, ah lovely young man they say.

And live your life to your heart's content. Maybe I need like a year, to have a moment in my life, to slow things down, to exclude myself from the needs to exceed achieve expectations or even gain recognition from people whom I hate. To live without fear, but on the other hand without being such those dicks.

Maybe I should start seeking material things, maybe all I ever really want to have are a good sofa, my eyes without glasses, road without heavy traffic, a good loyal loving wife, and a dishwasher. Maybe, if you go to a market nearby, you'll find your purpose of life there, maybe.

It's all constant delusion that is eating your reality. So you assume this thing is a bit too much of reality that you should worry all day all night.

a bit tired

There should be a dictator who has rights to tell us what to do, because most of us don't know what to do with their life. And for people who can prove that they do have routines and be productive about it can leave. So we all can enjoy waking up in the morning, do something productive. Instead of having a great journey ahead, wasting all the money, getting wasted every night, and mistakenly explain it as an adventure in life. I personally think routines really keep people sane.

Well, so long.
Gute Nacht.

as productive as a cat

I woke up like 11 am today, no wonder my mood was easily affected by anything that is moving, making sound, or even just merely exists, everything didn't deserve to be here and there. The exam was at 15.

Girlfriend kept telling me to sleep early and wake up earlier, but everyone should know that during final week, things are harder to be defined and done, you want to study but you can't help it to just wander around, clicking random links that appear on your browser.

Oh regret comes late and I don't wanna have one.

I wanna get over this. And have a little vacation perhaps.

I always wonder what my parents think when they're facing such constant daily tasks that are given to them, the routines. Or maybe people do need routines to keep them distracted from all the self-expressing, go-get-your-dream, quit-your-job-have-a-cow things, yes just like back then, when I was at elementary, everything went fast, no suffering, no joy, just life.

It's never too late to say that you want to live some more. Because even if you say it quite frequently like I do, things don't change much.

Be productive, be productive! I don't know what to do during finals, you've learnt much and don't wanna have a review do you?

I'm sleepy. Going to bed.