Hello, Love

Hello, Love

On this beautiful day
The golden bell's ringing
All the bird's chirping
The sacred vow is recited
One plus one is no longer two

You, love, start tearing up
Believing that you have conquered it all
Conquering your own ability
to see the hurricane right in front of you
You've been numbed by the cold in his words
Limped by the blow in his stare
Bleed by the thorn in his kisses

You, love, start tearing up
Knowing so well to hold your peace forever
To fold back the words to say I don't

Because, love,
you will not always be the priority

Maybe happy ever after could be written without you

Hello, my friend

“Because you look cocky and arrogant.”

That’s my friend’s excuse when he didn’t dare to wave me hello on the street.

Other day, my other friend said I was rude for just smiling politely in return for her waving hand.

And here goes my apology.

I’m not trying to justify my act,

And no, I don’t have the luxury of having the resting bitch face.

It is actually embarrassing to admit that

I probably talk better to books rather than to people.

I am awkward to the bone.

The word doesn’t come to mind until minutes has passed,

Or even when it came,

The word doesn’t reach my lips.

I don’t know how to banter, to be witty, or to be sarcastically funny.

I have to rack my brain to find the right sentence to be said,

I don’t master the complexity of small talk.

I’m not that brave to have that chivalry of starting the discussion.

I love watching people,

But talking and watching are two different entities.

Talking confuses me.

Do they still remember me?

What if I said the wrong thing?

Should I compliment their outfit just to be nice?

When should I start to ask the question?

What kind of topic should I bring up?

Do I look trying too much to keep the conversation going?

Hm, well, just give them polite smile then.

Orrrr, what's her name again? It doesn't ring a bell.

It's not like I intentionally forget a person.

But human’s brain works in mysterious ways,

While one can remember all of their friends of friends’ name and history,

Other brain select to keep the name and detail of every Game of Thrones’ character.

Should I avoid people?

NO.

As I live in the midst of human, I ought and have no choice but to interact with them.

And you, my friend, I’m asking you to help me with this,

to be just normal and loveable around people.

Xoxo,

The latter brain who beg the former brain’s help.

Hello, fangirl

Hello, fangirl.
You devote your night and day idolizing over someone far away
that doesnt even know that you exist.
Yet, these idols could bring you abundant amount of strength, happiness, joy,
and even relieve the pain in your chest.

Being a fangirl could be so much fun.
You could meet bunch of new friends who share the same happiness.
You could laugh out loud even after an exhausting day,
right after you watch that person on your screen.

Being a fangirl, you’re all so used to idolizing them,
putting them high up like flawless goddess they are,
that you tend to forget that they’re made of the same things as you are,
that you forget the fact that they are imperfect human just like you are.

Being a fangirl is tough.
You are so used to run towards them as an escape from your sad reality,
that when they stumble or even falling apart, you just have nowhere to run to.
You love them with all the love you had,
that when turns out they are not as flawless as you thought,
it feels like all the stars went out and the galaxy starts dimming.

But all in all, being a fangirl is a pleasure, isn't it?



Xoxo,
your fellow fangirl.

Hello, November

Hello November.
Or
Hello [insert day]; Hello [insert month]; Hello [insert year];
Hello [insert any inanimate objects]
Then add
'Please be [positive adverb]'

I wonder, have you ever wronged us, November?
That we -human- ask you to be nice to us,
Plead you to be good,
Beg you to be kind.

Perhaps that's the problem with human.
They expect others to shower them with much love.
Believing the world was revolved around them,
Condemning every other object when things get out of hand.

Maybe it's easier to blame the cheater since he's the one who broke the rules,
It's easier to hate the boss since he is an ass to begin with,
It's easier to cursed the accident since it ruins everything,
It's easier to degrade others since they are different afterall.

Has it ever occurred to you that perhaps he left after you keep yelling at him?
Has it ever crossed your mind that if you love and do your work wholeheartedly, the boss might as well respect you?
Have you ever wondered how significant a safety belt could minimize the accident's impact?
Have you ever realized that everyone is different in many ways that it is impossible to grade yourself above others?

Things might get out of hand,
But maybe, you have your fair share as well.
Remember, positive attitudes has greater impacts.
Smile before others do,
Greet before you were greeted,
Be nice, even when it's difficult.

I'll be good to you, November.



Xoxo,
People with problems.

Hello, Loneliness

Hello, Loneliness.

You sneaky little bitch.

Creeping in one of those nights, infecting the mind with poisonous thought,

Giving a surprise in the middle of the event, spreading virus on one’s brain,

Making one questioning its very own existence.

Sea of people may gather around,

Yet you manage to stand out,

clouding everything but you.

The best kind of people perhaps stands beside,

Yet your step approaching,

becoming closer than ever.

One doesn’t have to walk alone to meet you,

You are there, in every door,

ready to catch people off guard.

Strangely, you are one of those constant friends,

That sits together at the table dinner when I feel out of place,

That wiping the silent tears with blanket on night bed,

That laughs the loudest when no one’s get the humor.

Xoxo,

You know me by heart

Hey you

Hey you,

whose eyes beams and glows radiating its passion

whose mind coiled up inside their own universe

whose smile's so devilish it could kill the devil itself

whose tear's mistaken as crystal

Hey you,

the one with suns and stars wrapped around,

the one whose soul is so visible it speaks language,

the one whose contagious laugh touches me instantly,

the one who left me wonder what was just happened,

Hey you,

the droplet of golden ray of sunshine,

the breezy wind on a beach,

the bright dazzling starlight,

the beautiful horizon-kissed-sunset.

Hey you,

you are my favorite kind of person.

Xoxo,

some pieces of me that left scattered by your magic

Hello, Pen Pal

Hello, Pen Pal

You were a mistake,
A glitch, in a software
A glance, which had been stolen
A forbidden place, ones like to revisit
An intoxicating drugs, once.

Now that the ties been cut,
The envelope's been torn,
The letter's been burned,
The pen's been destroyed,
The word's been hanged.

Yet, every once in a while,
At one time or another,
The touch still lingers,
The gaze still stares back,
The thought still wander,
The scars still visible.

They say mistake has never been good,
but they just haven't met you yet.



Xoxo,
thousand of unsent rumpled papers

Hello, Mr T

Hello, Mr T.

Deepest gratitude to you,
for you whose name I dont remember,
for the unexpected stunt you pulled,
for making the unfathomable words to be uttered,
for touching my life in a way I never thought was possible.

They say miracle happens every time,
and I witness it through our few seconds encounter,
simple meaningless word for some,
yet magically caught me by surprise.

It was like one of those scene in a movie,
when everything slows down,
the wind blows breezily,
the clock stops ticking,
the smile creeps unknowingly.

And instead, in return,
your touch of light,
is paid by my ungrateful act by forgetting your name,

The memory still linger though,
the memory is intangible yet real enough for me to hold,
the memory is a priceless gift one could ever give to another.

In the end,
just like what Mr William Thacker had said,
'It was nice to meet you; surreal, but nice.'



Xoxo,
A girl whom you left speechless

Hello, Mr John Doe

Hello, Mr John Doe.

You are not necessarily a John Doe,
I know you,
as you know me.
Well enough to know that I dont open up easily,
let alone share my thought.

But with you around,
with clouds hanging above our heads,
with nothing but honesty,
we talked nonsense and stars above.

You managed to touch things I never cared to say.
You had the guts to tug strings I never wanted to hold.
You moved gracefully with your words,
forming phrases and sentences entwined in dark truth that I never dared to conclude.
Yet we danced in the jumbled letter, effortlessly.
The silence was not awkward, the stillness was not unsettling, the quietness was not killing.

Then somehow,
a different time zone seized us, rip the conversations' apart.
Every moment was stolen, every minute was borrowed,
every chances was swallowed by the almighty time.

Perhaps, maybe, if one can only hope,
in alternative universe, in the next reincarnation, in another version of us,
when both have the luxury of time,
we can always share our head, abusing the dusk and dawn with senseless words,
filling the air with our foolish laugh til we suffocate,
savoring every spoken sentences, drowning in tangled mind,
without any prejudice.

It is, afterall, the talk that had our path crossed.



Xoxo,
Jane Doe

Hello, Mr Finch

Hello, Mr Finch.

Yes, I am writing this letter to you, that character from one of the novels that I've just finished reading.
Should I reveal your full name?
Well, since I'm afraid that what I'm going to write contains a major spoiler to the stories.
So I think just 'Mr Finch' would be better, okay?

I'd like to say thankyou, Mr Finch, for sharing your stories with me.
Although it's pretty clear that it's a fiction one, I still thank you though.

You. And your suicidal.
I honestly don't know what to say since I clearly oppose the idea of suicide.
We were given this life with its amazing encounters, countless choice, endless possibilities,
but sometimes . .
sometimes, we think we have no choice, we think life lose its meaning, we think no one notices our existence,
we think in our worst moment, when the devil's lurking - consuming - our mind.

You make me understand what you've been through, Mr Finch.
You make me understand how society, families, friends, play an significant role on your suicidal.
But no matter how difficult it is - how it feels as if your surroundings hand you the knife to kill yourself -
ultimately, you still have a choice to throw it away.
So why surrender?

Because it's such a pity for you to give up your precious life just because other people,
is it so difficult to love yourself?



Xoxo,
a girl who think that you-suicidal-people-are-the-most-selfish-people.

Hello, Friday

Hello, Friday.

The fairest of them all.
The one that people always thank God for.
The day every one's been waiting all week.
Friday.

Most people loathe Monday, others get tired with Tuesday.
They barely live on Wednesday and Thursday.
And everyone's glorifying Friday.
While Saturday and Sunday just fly by.

What have you done to earn the special spot, Friday?
- God given, I assume.

People are like that.
Some are born God-given-Friday, they effortlessly enchant every one.
Thing is, not everyone's born with the charm.
They were born quiet, they were born wallflower, they were born socially awkward.

Like days-that-are-not-Friday, people unconsciously lessen the value of a-not-God-given-Friday-people.
Under-appreciated.

Lucky you, Friday.



Xoxo,
a-Tuesday-born.

Hello, Mrs Rika

Hello, Mrs Rika.

Truth to be told, I dont even know your real name, but Rika sounds just right for me.
And here I am writing a letter of apology to you, a stranger I'd call Rika.

Mrs Rika, I was the one who drove a white car right behind you on a scorching afternoon,
the traffic was heavily packed, and I let myself feeling a little bit more emotional than usual.
Those things should've not made me a rude asshole driver.
But it did.
And I'm sorry, I truly am very sorry,
because I honked my car pretty rudely when you blocked my way - tough technically it is OUR way.
I didn't mean anything bad or offensive,
It just happened that I throw my frustration towards you, the motorcycle rider with a little boy who unfortunately rode right in front of me.
Again, I am sorry.

I should've known that I am not the only one who use the road.
I am no good driver, at one time or another.
So I should've known better not to be mad when others become annoying-road-user-unintentionally.

Sorry for letting the traffic control my emotion.
I'm not trying to make excuses, I'm just trying to apologize.



Xoxo,
a driver who often feels guilty after being an ass.

Hello, Mr Superman

Hello, Mr Superman.

I've just watched your movie - the one that you had a battle with your friend.

And yes, I am a fan of yours, since a short time ago.

It must be pretty lonely to be you, isn't it?

Try saving the world all by yourself, the only one left from your planet, an extinct creature.

It must be pretty exhausting to be you, isn't it?

All those good things you've done, all the help you gave, all the peace you offered, yet people still find a way to hate you.

You owe nothing to people, yet you give them many.

You could simply hide yourself, live a peaceful life, but you believe in men and choose to help.

You have humanity (or should i say kriptonity?) which men lost.

You know, Mr Superman, in my world nowadays, we have no super man from Kripton.

But there are some people like you, the one with humanity and courage.

There's A governor whose skin color is only 2% of the country's population,

hates are thrown towards him for having different religion than most of the citizens,

yet he continues to strike and give the best to its people, fighting against mafia politician.

He is today's hero, however people can't see it yet.

He is building his monuments, so that in time, people will understand,

because most people don't know what they have til they lost it.

You guys are too good to be true.



Xoxo,
there's-a-super-man-inside-every-people believer.

Hello, smokers

Hello, smokers.

No. I will not judge you for smoking.

No. I will not going to tell you to stop smoking.

Because I myself still questioning why do people highly suggest smokers to stop smoking?

Sure, smoking kills, but isn't dying the risk of being a living creature?

Eventually human are all going to die. Some faster than the other, some by choice while others have no choice.

You smokers consciously choose to die inside a little day by day.

Truth to be told, people do the very same thing - killing themselves daily - just in a slightly different way.
As simple as the excessive sugar in their daily intakes, or staying up all night before the deadline, or skip eating for the work's sake, or bla bla bla you may fill the blank. . .
well, or cant get through the day without snack - like i do.

One can't underestimate my addiction over snacks: I've never left a pringles' can unless it's empty, I couldn't get my hand off the spoon unless there's nothing inside the ice cream's pint, and I coudn't call it a day if I hadn't had my snacks yet.

With high sugar, extra salt, tons of chemical products and let's not forget the redundant preservative, I'm sure as hell killing myself as you smokers do.

But here's the thing,

by my addiction, I only try killing myself not other people,

while you smokers, your smokes kills others too, which is unfair.

You want to kill yourself, be my guest, but puh-lease step aside.

I've already done my part killing myself pretty much and I dont need your extra help to do so.

Xoxo,

the one who despises being around smoker - unless it's worth dying for.