monster

this me. ugly on the outside. ugly on the inside.

Iklan

I walk by a mirror and didn’t like the girl on the reflection

I thought to myself  “this not a face he will fell in love with”
Ugly hair rugged skin

Pissed off expression and fat body

I wonder if someone ever like me

Letters

Letter to myself

I know you’re in a storm. You find fun in friends who are in the same boat with you, but the sea is turbulent and cruel right now. You are trying to tighten your grip on the boat, in order to not be wiped. You still measure your worth with appearances, the number on weight scale, people’s opinion , grades, and money. And I still use those things as measurement too.

These days are sleepless and confusing and making you afraid. You are somehow not panicked about your design outputs. I suspected this is because you are dead inside. So much things to worry so your heart and mind shut some feelings down.

The friends you are with are the best friends so far. So many different characters and they decided to hang out with you. But you know friendship should be treated as fragile, right? Step carefully. You feel that the closer you are to them, you are afraid of how they view you, especially if it’s from your own point of view. You are afraid of yourself. You despise somethings about yourself and you are the only one who know the bad sides, and you are afraid it comes out the moment you got comfortable.

My only advice right now is to act like usual, push through this college semester with all the might you have, all the will you can muster. Remember the things you have received and make yourself worthy of that things. Remember the promises you made and the goal you have to achieve. Remember that although you’re in pain, people around are not to be affected with  your pain, because they have their own battles. Everyone are fighting too.

 

Letters

Dear best friends,

thank you for being the joy in these days of university. I am truly grateful for your support, advice and jokes, because without every single one of you, I think I will lose my mind here. Although I often shows impatience and sometimes being inconsiderate, I will try being nicer , just like you guys.

I hope we can somehow find the rhythm between us and resonate soundly. And for the future I hope we find our own ways and pursue it happily and enjoyably.

I can’t address a letter to each one of you right now, but I really appreciate your presence. I feel really lucky to be among you guys. It’s a blessing that I found friends that not only supportive but also shameless.

 

To You, my old friend

I really appreciate you trying to involve me in your agenda, inviting me to your birthday . I hope you do better and better. I love seeing the posts of your travel. I think youth like yours are satisfying. I do not like this youth I have now. It’s full of hard work that I don’t enjoy. But the purpose of this letter is not for me moaning. This is for you.

So maybe if you feel down or alone, although I am not good with this, these words can comfort you.

You are wonderful, I admires your dedication to things you like and how you do creative works back in high school days. Scrapbooking , Yoga, going abroad, reading and travelling a lot, and taking extra Chemistry course and taking me along because damn chemistry is so hard back then. Maybe there will be a point where you didn’t think those things are too little to be admired. Maybe there will be moments where you feel lost. I cannot give wonderful advice, but when you feel lost, go talk with someone. Do not be me and open up too late. I lost a lot of things in high school life because I was too afraid. And that’s one of my biggest regret until now.

Letters

Dear my little sister

Dear sister, it’s been a very long time we see each other. I feel a little disappointed I can’t go home and see the family although we’re in the same city. I want to learn make up and go shopping with you. I truly need your advice on upgrading appearances because there’s a boy I liked back at college.

I got your gray cat squishy here. It’s very pleasant to squish but it leaves greasy texture so I don’t know how you’ll feel.

I will always pray in my heart that the passion that you follow truly makes you live. Not in terms of financial, but in terms of happiness. Because to be truthful, the field I am in no longer brings joy nor have promising salary in the future.

 

Letters

Dear Mom and Dad,

Thanks for always doing your best for us. I hope things are well at home. Things at my end have been very hectic and confusing to the point of depressing. And maybe it’s my mind auto defend system to shut the anxiety down because I didn’t feel panicked at all although there is so so much things to draw and plan in studio. Here it feels that I only have one class, ant the other class except studio are merely background. Blur and faded. I want to promise a GPA of 3.00 at the end of this semester, but to be honest, I’ll say that this goal could be a far-fetched one.

I hope we can travel as a family once holiday comes. Be it a simple trip to a restaurant, or long trip to an island. I hope we could dine at home and in one table. I hope I can go home and truly do my role as a child, not as a student who rarely calls except when needing money, or going home when I need something.

Never Enough

I am not enough. Not for myself, not for others. For the love I am in, for the faith I’m trying to maintain. Expectations are everywhere. No. Expectations are needed. I am so insufficient in every aspect, so having expectations are a must.

The school to come alive

As we are getting older, we die
the dreams are less colorful

the colors start to turn monotone
and then we were on the junctions
“you test it in school so when you get the real deal you are not as shocked”

school that unlock possibilities instead of limiting them

opening minds, different jobs, and ways to interact with people

vast choices of club activities -> flexible room and landscape arrangement

Have I hate myself yet?

Thick lenses,
Flabby arms,
have I hate myself yet?

forgotten memories
resurfacing pains
have i hate myself yet?

unspoken words
the slipping chances
have I hate myself yet?

a tower of a thousand words
a garden of million letters

all left half finished
some left unsent
another left unsaid

“Yes”

s/d