Hi there.

Hi there,

Someone across the mirror.

I can see deep and through to you.

Naked as who you really are.

Delicate as you are,
crying over the movie you’ve watched,

Sobbing over the book you’ve read.

But inside
you’re just pure evil, a wicked rotten apple.

You hurt people like it’s your job,

Here and there you scratch them.

Even to someone you hold very dearly,

Scarring them by the blunt of your tongue,

by the daintiness of your touch,

Leave them stranded in the middle of the sea,

That to be granted their forgiveness

would be beyond the bounds of possibility.

Empathy can’t be taught.

Still,
only the death heart could do so.

Sometimes when I run, I try to run away from you.

To fool the mind that the body can leave the soul behind.

But I can’t,
for they bore each other’s consequences.
And they would never fathom how forever sorry I am.

Xoxo,

The beyond the mirror who craving to shatter it

Hello, Cuss Boy

Hello, Cuss Boy!

Hello, you who cussed at me when we were both just 5^th grader.

It’s the first time I got cussed at right in front of my face,

You probably have the privilege of forgetting the occasion,

But me - a goody two shoes, who barely spent the break time outside classroom?

Oh good God, how could you expect me to forget?

You stood right there in front of me and spitted those nasty word – if not twice then third times.

I didn’t remember what I did wrong, I doubt I knew what I did wrong to you,

Yet there you were.

I did not hate you, I did not hold grudge against you.

Instead, you made me hate myself.

You knew very little how harmful a mere word could be.

Ah, I think, even now, the universe doesn’t know that either.

With the help of the almighty anonymousness of social media,

People throws nasty word here and there like it’s a charity.

And what do they want to achieve with that is something I still fail to comprehend.

The world is messed up enough that I believe it doesn’t need extra help to do so by people tossing their negativity around.

Hey you, Cuss Boy.

We don’t keep in touch, but I know you’re a better man now.

And I wish that everyone could grow up like you, becoming better man,

Know better that if one can’t spread the happiness, at least they hold up their negativity for themselves to swallow.

Xoxo,

The girl you screamed asu to

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, Havid

Hello, Havid.

Many thanks for brightening my day, or cooling out my scorching noon - to be exact.
You know, Havid, I have soft spots for kids,
and when it came to an irresistibly handsome one like you, I'm sold.

In case you forget what you did,
We were chit chatting and out of the blue you complimented me
I was barely processing the word that you said,
I havent even said thank you when you got hot under the collar and hide behind your mother already.
It was really cute and nice of you!
You remind me how great it is if people choose to be a nicer person.
There are too many assholes, and it wont hurt us to be a little nicer.

The thing about kids are they are innocent, a pure form of human,
so pure that even lucifer despises them (the lucifer drama fyi),
so honest, no poker face, no mask, no hidden agenda.
Adults throw nice words just for fishing for compliments or other-complicated-adult-thing-reasons.

I should learn more from you, Havid.
To be nicer without ulterior motive, but simply being nice.



Xoxo,
a-paper-hearted-girl trying to be a-nicer-girl.

Hello, Books

Hello, Books.

If I were about to be asked who my first love is, It wouldnt come as a surprise that it's you, my prized possession.
My love for you was started out simple,
when I first experienced the pure pleasure of reading story books,
when I couldnt take my eyes off piles of comic books,
when I first mesmerized by my elementary school's library.

I adored you, countless times, in many forms.
Back then, I was never taught how to appreciate things,
and being a careless child that I was, I dishonored you - mistreated you - by mindlessly piling you up on my messy table.
No wonder she forbid me to own you.
But I had the strong urge to read, thus the implacable me shamelessly read at bookstore for hours.

Years passed, things changed, I've learned to keep you safe and sound.
Still, she resents the idea of me reading.

'Get a life'

But I do, I've got to live a thousand lifes from books.
But I do, I've felt livelier reliving stories.
But I do, I've felt more content reading stack of letters.

Is it so wrong to love you and throw my money for you?
I just wish she had experienced your sacred touch,
that she would understand that 'life' itself has many different form.



Xoxo,
A girl who is tired of being chastised for being too fond of books.

Hello, Mother

Hello, mother.

How are you?

Not how are you on the outside - with all the broken smile you give, but how are you inside?

I hope you're happy inside out

If not, at least I hope you feel content, because God knows what you've been through.

For all I know, you've been through the dark long painful sleepless night.
And maybe that's why you're the strongest bravest most beautiful woman i know i my life.

You should know that I'm not exaggerating this, because I know some other women and some other mother, but they're nothing to you.
Rest assured, they can't pull half the things you've done.

So, how are you, mother?
Perhaps you still disappointed in me, for all my tantrums and selfishness, for all my immaturity and excuses.
But somehow you always find a way to forgive me, even when I neglect your broken heart.
You've never failed to amaze me.

I wonder what are you made of.
Stronger than steel, more precious than gem, brighter than the sun.
You are indeed my center of gravity.

How are you, mother?



Xoxo,
a daughter admiring her mother.