hömé föur

The story about how I decorate my soul, and four is the perfect number for my little family, my future wife, Samantha and Haeden. Together, we evolved into hömé föur.


hömé föur

I wanna live life, never be cruel

 I wanna live life, and be good to you


I wanna fly, never come down

and live my life, have friends around

~ ~ ~

I just moved to my new place and it is absolutely stunning. I walk around in awe that I actually own it. It’s like a dream, but it’s also empty. I’d moved so much in the last few years, and for my entire life, that i pretty much sold everything i owned when i made my decision to live in Seminyak. The kitchen set, or what will eventually be the dining place, the rooftop to standing conversation with buddy while drink beers and lots of joints, is completely bare; the bedroom has rattan carpet and stone carving on the walls and that’s  much of it; but it, too, is not four, its just me, just one, and empty.

~ ~ ~

I set two priorities: my bedroom and hobbies room. Ultimately, hobby’s room will takes times so i decided to started there now. What should i prepare: Canvas Holder, equipments for paintings, table for keep my memorable picture along with my writings, and all the paintings are actually literature that evolved.

~ ~ ~

I wanted to create a space that was bursting with color and screamed, “This is a Moussa’s room.” I already had a bright maroon crib and a neon yellow rocking chair, which was a perfect starting point. Using a homemade quilt as inspiration, I went for a cotton-candy ceiling same thing I saw back when I see in Velagio Mall Doha, Qatar. Black and white would dominate most of the furniture. As if that wasn’t man enough, I added a yellow rug and another one that is aqua blue with gold lines as the muscle.

“Trees, owls, and butterflies fill the walls and as a final touch, i added the sun! its so natural and remind me with all of my beautiful past.”

If I’m feeling overwhelmed with decorating or making new place decisions, I just walk into Hobby’s room and a beautiful sense of calm fills my heart and soul. I create a home, I create a shelter, a place filled with my own choice of colors, furniture, and endless bounds of sour, as home four.

~ ~ ~

“I have learned that if you must leave a place that you have lived in and loved and where all your yesteryears are buried deep, leave it any way except a slow way, leave it the fastest way you can. Never turn back and never believe that an hour you remember is a better hour because it is dead. Passed years seem safe ones, vanquished ones, while the future lives in a cloud, formidable from a distance.”

~ ~ ~

Pic taken by: Jeremy Kessel (Photographer)

Literature by: Moussa Isaac Askey (Blog Author)

Who Am I?

I am not what happened to me, but who am I to me?

~ ~ ~

There are so many things that I don’t understand

There’s a world within me that I cannot explain

Many room to explore but the doors look the same

I am lost, I can’t even remember my name


I am all in the sea of wonders

I doubt; I fear; I think

Strange things which I

Dare not confess to my

Own soul

~ ~ ~

Season Of Our Soul

When the ego dies, the soul awakes

“I’m not a writer, at least long time ago i thought i’m not gonna end up to be writer. But in front of your screen now, there’s words by me.

My tragedy is was that i loved words more than i loved the women, who inspired me to write them.

I wish there’s no reason for me to write this story on this blog. But there is something i really wanted to share, something that most of people search in life for. This season I am more open for many more disappointment and failure, with this I am more ready for anything, to face the new season of my soul.

Maybe i can’t find cool analogies, pretty metaphors, or write a lovely dopey poem like i used to write before. Because i want this to be ultra simple, the most primitive form of telling how i feel: “I love you”

~ ~ ~


~ ~ ~

I don’t know what’s going to happen from here, but i do know is that i want to be with you. I’ve witness how you felt, all your feelings are true. You make me smile, you are always there in my many night sleepless, and you are just simply amazing. I’m so happy that i had the privilege having you in my life.

We get along so well; the goofyness we share and our conversations are something I’d never trade for anything. I know we can become something special, and life is not sure with it self, season always changing, and future is a mystery that no one could not even understand it.

I hope you see that too.

Corniche of Tears

“Its so hard to let it go, when you meant the world to me.” ~miamou

Corniche of Tears


You never really back home. You never been go out. You still here, laying your body for the last time, at place where nobody know your name

You may not know why,

You may not know how,

Much easier to act strong then to act weak for you. You could fight the fear but you couldn’t handle a single tear. Because your body needs to float all over the pain and needs to start it all over again, until you hear those strangers inside you sounds like they singing about “Home”.

Is not a sin if you just want to witnesses her again.

I thought I see your tears,

I thought I hear your fears,

Remember what I say;

“The home was not exist, once you step outside. Is not there anymore.”

She sat down and wept, right at edge of the Corniche. Put our eyes straight through eyes right to the deepest side of our heart. We know how fast this flower will blossom and die right after for just a moment. Quite close to what we needs, and far away from where the sea and city meets.

There was only two big question ‘we’ (Human) wants to understand from the Universe;

“When should we start and when should we stop?

Her glisten eyes strive to reflect those city lights from the place where we stand. I saw the lights melting on her tear drops, flow to the tops, they flew and tend to resist the gravity, they floating away above our world. They comes back as a storm, strike between her eyes, and she began again to cry.

You can make a different, and tell a different story. Your heart, can safe my world.

“Those city lights, will light up her street, down where the sea and city meets. May all your suffer soon be gone.


“Those reflected lights from her eyes, they will light up your street, maybe one day they will bring her back to you.”


Plot on this post was  inspired by my selection of related songs: Tribute to Ramelia – Ram, Christmas Lights – Coldplay, One Heart – Ana Criado. And some Books: Theres No New York Today(tidak ada new york hair ini) – Unknown, The Zahir – Paulo Coelho, Plot Of Love – Mia (lost and found author), By The River Piedra I Sat Down And Wept – Paulo Coelho.

Each part and paragraph of this story was indirectly talking to me at one of my random sleepless night. It will tells you how love can somehow transform into everything, way far beyond imagination. Those songs and books i assume as the tools, my memories will reincarnate into “whisper” that express word by word and place to place. This story will brings past to every moment in future, the pills are actually good, and this simple plot will somehow, Remain.


Love “in order to understand, i destroyed myself.” ~F. Pessoa, 1762 (Mt. Lourdes- France).


Passed years seem safe ones, vanquished ones, while the future lives in a cloud, formidable from a distance. ~mia

“If they don’t lost existence, and if they can beat the distance. Believe me, love is not about win or loose. Its really not a game to play.”



I was here for a moment, then she was gone.

When you don’t believe your own eyes anymore, and hardly can’t remember your name.

Then silhouettes holds the past along with moments.

Suddenly they appear almost everywhere.

They’re behind your eyes.


When they loose existence, they will lost in distance.

“I have learned that if you must leave a place that you have lived in and loved and where all your yesteryears are buried deep, leave it any way except a slow way, leave it the fastest way you can. Never turn back and never believe that an hour you remember is a better hour because it is dead. Passed years seem safe ones, vanquished ones, while the future lives in a cloud, formidable from a distance.” ~mia

She Could Be Happy

Its time to start again and holds on-to miracle of beginnings. ~miamou


She could be flower in every nightmare. Blossom in dark.

She speaks to me fondly of passions and talents, guitar and stars, ice cream and rainbow, dancing and beaches, past and miracle. Then stop short to apologies for speaking at all. She could be like that.

She could sit alone in every crowded place. Shadows behind the lights.

All because somewhere in her life, someone-blindfolded that she loved broke her heart again, ignore her letter and pure bliss on her wet eyes. And telling her to “shut up”, keep “it down”, “nobody cares”. She could be like that.

Someone once said; “People aren’t born sad. Happy? Yes, she could be.”

And suddenly she’s start one bravely steps, start singing to the stars with her rainbow ice cream, and dancing at the beach. She barely knows, that its time to start again and holds to miracle of beginnings.

She could be anywhere.

With anyone.

“there is something”