Hey You

base on true story, Failure, Love

~ ~ ~

new title

Hey you,

I didn’t leave because

I stopped loving you

I left because the longer

I stayed the less

I love my self.

~ ~ ~

 

The Cornice

base on true story, Failure, Literature, Love, Short Story

Cornice of Tears

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

You may not know why,

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 Cornice. 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.

And,

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

~miamou


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.

Miamou

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

She Could Be Happy

base on true story, Dream, Failure, life, Love, Short Story

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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.


“twahachteck”

The Love Deserve

base on true story, Dream, Failure, Family, Literature, Love

~ ~ ~

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You deserve a love that wants you disheveled, with everything  and ask the reasons that wake you up in a haste, with everything and demons that won’t let you sleep.


You deserve a love that makes you feel secure, able to take the world when it walks beside you; that feel your embrace are perfect for its skin.


You deserve a love that wants to dance with you at beginning until end of party, that goes paradise every time it looks into your eyes and never gets tired of studying your expressions.


You deserve a love that still love you when your legs turn into root, your finger into twigs and your hair into leafage.


You deserve a love that listens when you sing, that support you when you act like a fool, that respect your freedom; that accompanies you when you fly and isn’t afraid to fall.


You deserve a love that takes away the lies and brings you illusion, coffee, and poetry.


dedicated to the love that ends my journey

~ ~ ~

Blue Dreaming

base on true story, Dream, fiction, Literature, Love

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You are the shadow to my night ~ did you feel us?
Another star falls then you fade away
Afraid our aim is out of sight, when we are blindfolded
Wish to see us, alight.

“This dream.”

“Was it all only was my fantasy?”

“Or you only imaginary?”

“Where are you now?”

“Atlantis?

“Under the sea, another dream?”

Another dreams,
one of creepy faces at random bar starring at me, speaks other language, and they’re talking it to me.

“These shallow blue waters never met what I needed”

“I’m letting go a deeper dive, and come up in milky way galaxy”

“Eternal silence of the sea. I guess so, its Atlantis.”

All that i care to remember, everything was only blue.

Even in this words. Even its just a dream.

Blue Dreaming: “its one of many thought that i actually really like it, it was always uplift my morning as soon as I’m awake. I don’t know what it is exactly, but i know it wasn’t the answer.  Its good at the end. Eventually. “

~miamou

Ayin Ha Ra

fiction, Literature, Love, Short Story

Kalimat ini letaknya agak ke kiri, di antara lipatan udara beragam, gelas champagne, dan daftar menu dengan logo pencari lubang tertempel pada “cover”-nya. Kudapan memenuhi meja makan, seperti kudapan lain yang memenuhi di balik seragam Ayra.

 her
 
 
Beberapa kalimat agak berantakan, ketika aku mencoba menatap Ayra, nama panggilan yang lebih singkat dari Ayin Ha Ra. Hewan kecil itu terkadang bermain di antara rambut Ayra yang terurai panjang, seperti mengukur jarak antara kesunyian dan pikiran-pikirannya. Cukup rumit.
 
Beberapa tamu yang datang untuk bermain golf di Elite Golf Club ini, tempat paling innocent untuk segerombol pendosa paling banyak gaya, di dalam ruangan VVVVVIP ini yang namanya sering disebut sebagai Black Widow, karena beberapa karyawati yang bekerja di tempat itu rata-rata korban dari ketamakan diri sendiri akan orgasme, dan akhirnya ditinggalkan oleh si penebar benih untuk menjadi janda di umur muda. Beberapa tamu VVVVVIP tersebut tampak seperti makhluk bodoh, mereka sibuk dengan telepon genggam masing-masing di tempat yang seharusnya lebih baik untuk menghindar dari segala jenis elektronik penghubung makna.
 
Ayra akan menemani mereka untuk menyelam di beberapa titik pembicaraan politik paling kotor yang tidak pernah masuk walau dalam selembar media paling kredibel sekalipun (pengaturan trayek premanisme di kota itu, berjudi hampir seperti yang biasa mereka lakukan di negara Macau sambil mengatur pembagian bisnis kotor lainnya) yang hampir tidak bisa di cerna Ayra yang sedang menuangkan air San Palegrino ke gelas salah satu tamu gendut ber-uang yang jaman sekarang sering di sebut “Gadun”.
Dia tampak gelisah, seperti akan menemani seonggok daging yang masing-masing sibuk bersilat jari dengan touch screen di telepon genggamnya. Tapi paling tidak, sehabis kerja nanti, Ayra akan meringankan beban-beban di rumah seperti susu untuk anak, listrik, internet, indovision, rokok untuk adik laki-lakinya yang malas berkerja, kakeknya yang pensiunan tanpa dana pensiun, dan kebutuhan-kebutuhan rumit lainnya.
 
Sepulang kerja, Ayra tidak selalu pulang kerumah. Dia melarikan diri dari kerumitan kebutuhan di dalam rumahnya, dan menyapa pelukan tepat setelah membuka pintu kamarku. Masih menggendong tas kulit coklat yang entah di salah satu kantung tas itu terdapat beberapa kartu nama tamu VVVVVIP di tempat dia bekerja. Larut setelah itu, Ayra berbaring sexy agak kesamping memberi jalan untuk cairan yang akan mengalir dalam tubuhnya yang ramping. Saya hanya manusia yang berhasrat tanpa uang yang haus akan cinta dan kepuasan mengerang, apapun bentuk dan caranya walau harus berperang. Aku telah rela menjadi binatang yang di kandangi dalam kerumitan di dalam kepala Ayra itu.
 
Ayra.
 
Saya tidak pernah bisa meihat matanya terlalu lama, atau dada ini akan meleleh seperti chocolate fondue yang mengalir ke bagian bawah tubuh saya dan stroberi di bagian tubuh lain menjadi ranum dan sangat matang.
 

Waktu menunjuk pukul sembilan. Di sudut kafe ketiak saya berpeluh. Namun tak bisa mengeluh. Kecuali pada ponsel yang suaranya tak juga melenguh.

Dua belas jam yang lalu ada yang mengaku akan datang. Yang saya harapkan selalu di kafe itu senyumnya manisnya akan mengembang. Ketika melihat saya. Karena berdekatan dengan pujaan hati, katanya. Biasanya kami akan menghabiskan waktu dengan percakapan. Saling bertatapan. Saling bertukar harapan. Harapan untuk bisa merapat dan berdekapan. Di suatu tempat yang jauh dari kegaduhan.

Namun, sebenarnya, hati saya selalu gaduh. Ketika di tindih tubuhnya saya mengaduh. Karena setelahnya  dia akan mengeluh. Bertanya, ke manakah hubungan ini akan berlabuh?

”Kenapa perlu dipertanyakan, Sayang. Kita sedang berlabuh ke sebuah ketidak-tahuan yang memabukkan.”

”Hah?!”

Kupu-kupu melebarkan sayapnya tepat di depan bebungaan di mana kami duduk. Ia pun melebarkan jangkauan tangannya di mana tangan saya sedang diam merunduk. Mencoba meredam tawa saya yang sudah terdengar seperti orang mabuk. Tenang gerakannya sangat saya tahu sebenarnya memendam rasa amuk akan segala pertanyaan rumit yang saya tunda jawabanya. Sejujurnya saya tidak pernah berencana untuk menhabiskan hidup di temani dengan rasa was-was akan pekerjaan yang mungkin akan menjatuhkan saya lagi, seperti yang sudah – sudah. Karena itu segera saya kibaskan tangan itu berpura-pura menghalau nyamuk.

“Sayang?”

Saya memotong kalimatnya. Persis seperti apa yang dilakukan badut-badut ketika berada di atas arena. Berteriak ketika ada yang mengolok-oloknya. Terjatuh. Mengaduh. Berlari. Tanpa berani memaki. Menghilang ke balik panggung. Disertai dengan sorak-sorai dan tawa menggunung.

Sorak-sorai itu yang mengingatkan saya atas kutipan-kutipan yang dituliskan di beberapa buku pemikir. Membuat saya mencibir. Karena ada letupan kembang api di kepalanya. Dan warna-warni serpihan kembang api itu jatuh ke bahunya, meleleh ke dada dan memerah di ujung putingnya. Ia tidak pernah mengetahuinya. Maka, ia tak merasakannya. Ketika serpihan kembang api itu melumatnya. Bahkan ketika saya berkata,

”Kenapa perlu dipertanyakan, Sayang. Kita sedang berlabuh ke sebuah ketidak-tahuan yang memabukkan.”

Tapi di manakah sekarang ia, setelah hanya itu jawaban yang saya punya?

”Hah?!”

Terkejut saya ketika bahu ditepuk seseorang perempuan.

”Boleh saya ambil bangku yang tak terpakai?”

”Hah?!”

Saya tidak bisa menentukan. Saya sudah menunggu dua jam dengan perut kram akibat pil anti depresi yang dosisnya sedikit saya tingkatkan belakangan ini, atau mungkin karena Irish Coffee yang sudah gelas ketiga. Namun ia tak juga datang. Tapi apakah saya harus menyerahkan bangku kosong di sebelah saya ke seseorang? Seseorang yang membutuhkan bangku tambahan di mejanya karena ia bersama banyak teman tak terkecuali perempuan?

”Boleh saya pakai bangkunya, Mas?”

Saya menatapnya.

”Maaf, masih ada yang saya tunggu.”

”Waktu?”

~~~ ~~~

Real love is the love that sometimes arises after sensual pleasure; if it does, it is immortal, makes you wait even you know he/she will never show up; the other kind of inevitably goes stale, for it lies in mere fantasy.” ~Mia (Moussa Isaac Askey)

Baby, You’ll Be Alright.

Dream, Failure, Love, Short Story

* * *

Good morning dear, I hope I didn’t wake you too soon.

Because my mind is growing tired, too much thinking what I should do.

I picture you out there, It must be beautiful this time of year.

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All those south coast leaves, floating round like embers from burning trees.

Well the weather out here is just the same, but do you think about me when you alone? The thing we used to do and the thing we used to be? You know that i could be the one who make you feel that way, and i could be the one who set you free.

Now it’s only work, each day bleeding into the next. Barely scraping by I tire myself out just so I can rest.
But rest it rarely comes, and when it does I cannot go home. Because it’s much too quiet, seems that I’m not suited to being alone.

And everyone around me changed.
But i remember, this is isn’t the way that we used to be.

I think about you maybe more than I should, but the smog is getting old, the drugs I’m taking aren’t so good. So will you talk to me? Even though you’ve had a late night.

Because I need a little help.

Baby, tell me I’ll be alright….

* * *

If Someone Ask Me “Why?”

Dream, Failure, Literature, Love

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I would like to flash back to see that sunrise to collect memory instead of things, its time for us to pack up all the past and find what truly lasts.

If everything has been written down, so why worry?

If life changing, so why worry?

We say it’s still you and I with silly smile as we wave goodbye, and you can say that was your mistake to open up the door that closed for ages. Then someone once said that “You couldn’t”, then everything turns right, a few unsaid feelings seems happened to be true. That’s why I did, and I won’t worry.

If someone ask me, “why?”

Each series of life has something unsaid feelings. For those who said with metaphors, and for those who didn’t even know what metaphors means. When you remember once wasn’t good orgasm and remember the chapter wasn’t good plot, i hope we’ll realize that we own a promise that long forgotten,

eventually.

~miamou~

Up in Love

fiction, life, Literature, Love

Up in Love

“Journeys end in lovers meeting”

love great

~ ~ ~

I have found almost everything ever showing on movie and ever written on the books about love, to be true.

Shakespeare said; “Journeys end in lovers meeting” Ooh, what an extra ordinary thought for me. It’s Inspire me personally, i have not experienced anything remotely close to that. But i am more than willing to believe Shakespeare had. I supposed to think about love more than anyone really should. I constantly amaze by it’s sheer power to alter and define our lives, it was Shakespeare also said; “Love is Blind”, now that is something i KNOW to be true!

I gave you some example about random relationship character:

For some, that couples are quite inexplicably. Love fades.

love fades

~ ~ ~

For others, love is simply (almost) lost.

simply lost

~ ~ ~

But then, of course, love can also be founded even just for the night.Then happily ever after.

Carl and Ellie 1

~ ~ ~

And there’s another kind of love. The cruelest kind. The one that almost kills it’s victim. It’s called unrequited love, of that I-AM-AN-EXPERT!

Most love stories are about people who fall in love with each other. But what about the rest of us? what about our stories? and what about mine? Those of us who fall in love alone, and we have to admitted that we are the victim of the one side affair. I tell you guys, there will be a time that you will found the one that really love you just the way you are, when it’s come to you, it’s yours forever. Just learn from your previous stories from the bad and the good, and sometimes we have to be remember what used to be good. Love will find a way, love will find you.

“Language has created the word ‘loneliness’ to express the pain of being alone. And it has created the word ‘solitude’ to express the glory of being alone.”

memorable

Carl: “I don’t want your help, I want you safe.”

~ ~