you are well. with that flame still igniting within. by passion and dreams. the author of my happiness. sadness. with amazing plot twist and climax. and numerous possibilities. few pages were left blank. while we stopped and questioned our journey. others writing on other's book. writing sadness with a happy face. no tears were shown. but a soaking book. protect your story. you write your own story. where wildest dreams and endings are written. with no finite. dreams are big. maybe impossible. it gives something for you to chase. with an aim. and making impossible possible. without a dream. could we be ever possible? not all of us have the talent card. nevertheless. i'm still possible.
maybe. just maybe
if you dare. to dream
"with actions and reams of paper"
"through writing your own story"
she was my type of taste that suits me so well. i always walk all the way to the national stadium just to see her. i dreamt about her every day. her cool appearance, long hair and dreamy eyes. best in visual during sports in the national stadium. time to man up. as i approach her, with a smile, saying the magic word, "hi". feeling kinda creepy, totally not a time for my ultimate pick up lines. so i introduced myself and i said, "wanna hang?". she was kind, which adds one more attribute to my checklist. i knew that she's a tourist from our conversation. i felt so blind, not knowing that she's actually a russian spending her gap year in malaysia. of course she said yes to my "wanna hang?". i decided to plan out something like a two days trip for her. with my skill in social, i think i got this date out for sure. but
"you never know"
she's a riddler and rhymer. a complicated mastermind. to be exact. she gave me a riddle to guess which …
bunch of homosapiens. fear from murders, crime and terrorism. a game seems like the hunter and the hunted. not hunted by criminal, murderer nor terrorist. but by words. bunch of homosapiens with the ability to kill. pushing air out through the mouth using the lips. so deathly. so easy. so easy to understand. we can't be deaf by choice. but we can be mute by choice. just like a stab. stabbing in front. or stabbing behind the back. doesn't even matter in my stand. the world is already at war. an underlying war with words. the impact is showing. depression. suicides. regret. homosapiens can be so vulnerable. killed in the midst of fear. kill me dear homosapiens. and congratulations. you killed yourself. with words. regret. trauma. don't kill me dear homosapiens. because "no offense" is not the savior of everything.
"the talkative was now mute"
"death is mute"
"killing your own kind"
"words that kill"
he's in love with your light. blinded by the light and hurt by your light.
he gained false hope by the shining light. went for the bulb. and suicide.
she think she has nothing to do with her light. unintended. and never meant to attract with her light.
she never knew.
there was a switch
to close the light.
to stop the false hope.
to prevent a broken heart.
to stop unintended love story.
"or you never wanted it to end, nor start?"
maybe she didn't love the start nor the end, only the middle.
maybe he love her everything, but in vain.
when tried turns tired
he will close the switch himself.
and live again.
"to stop giving false hopes and prolong rejection"