It just fun to write without being interrupted

November 8, 2015


All this time,
after you've built walls to keep people away.
After you wear a different skin, a solemn mask to
shed tears and emotions into invisibility.
After you promise to never trust.
After you said to yourself to never fall.
After nights of pain and agony.
After nights of trying to forgive.
After days and months of building a fort.
After being convinced that men are emotionless deceitful human being.
After you feeling ready to face this world alone.
After making plans and dreams with only you in the picture.
After you are about to sail away.

You meet someone,
and you start to question.
What has come over me?

I wish you knew before all these afters.
But it doesn't matter.
It doesn't matter anymore.

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November 2, 2015

Yet to figure it out

There is almost a distant feeling when you grow up, or realise that you are a grown person. 

Past seems like a memory you wish will never fade so that you can cling to it. Tug it close to your chest like hugging a precious teddy bear of your childhood. A warmth comfort but lifeless still.

I wish I can let go of it, say that I won't need it any more. Too much I heard them saying that we should never look at our past, life moves on. Yet life as a grown person can be melancholy and poignant, sometimes. If not most of the times. Therefore the only way to bring the colours to the film is by bringing the memories that are colourful - the memory of past. Of childhood, of growing up, of adolescent, of youth. 

Of innocent, of naivety, of ignorance, of not knowing yet.

The irony is that as you grow up, you realise you are still in the state of now knowing yet maybe for forever. However, they expect you to know or at least, to act like you know. But really, who in this world knows and have it all figure out? Is there such person?

Well, I guess clearly for this case, we all already figure out the answer.
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