I’ve always felt that my writing turns out the strongest when it’s sad. I guess for that reason, my fingers have stopped creating prose or poetry of any kind for the past few years.It’s not that there had been no pebbles encountered throughout the not-long-past and still ongoing walk.My feet stumbled upon many pebbles, but there was nothing that a good overnight cry and an emotion-stripping out-in-the-open kind of honest conversation...
Tuesday, August 16, 2022
Tuesday, October 2, 2018
Brighter Than the Shaken Stars
Written as a coping mechanism for severe homesickness.
–
"The stars are beautiful," I thought.
I grabbed my phone and opened the camera.
"Click," the sound broke the silence of the night.
I looked at the photo I took only to realize that...
my hand was too shaky to make it a good shot.
I was shaking inside out,
because as beautiful...
Tuesday, June 27, 2017
The Glass I Did Not Break
Today, I broke a glass.
I was holding it in the grip of my hand
which I thought was firm,
until it slipped.
My mother heard the clash and scolded me,
pointing out how reckless I had been.
Yet in spite of her reproof,
she still told me not to make any move.
She ordered me to jump onto the nearest couch
as agile as possible,
without stepping on the floor;
because she was afraid...
Monday, June 12, 2017
byvelvet Fall/Winter 2016: Mind Over Matter
Fall/Winter 2016 Collection on byvelvet.com
Filmed by Cindy Octaviany
Scripted by Livia Nathania
Video I — Intrusion
Narration:
Footsteps.
aligned with the melody of her thoughts.
Burden.
Of the upcoming drudgery that awaits.
But there’s a touch
of the elegance within her.
Up she goes,
or in silence she sits,
seeking a clear state of mind.
The sight of her eyes,
the...
Saturday, October 1, 2016
Rants of A Voluntary Sufferer
I'm sick of having not even one person left on this earth who would care enough to listen to my rants about how much sickness I am feeling; not of you, but of myself for being continuously deluded by your manipulative sweet talks.
I'm sick of this sickness as much as they are sick of my every word every time I make a sound;
for my every word is based on my every thought, and my every thought is processed in my mind,
of which...
Wednesday, September 7, 2016
The Power Behind the Pain: Mount of Merapi
[This article is as seen as published on Kanekin online magazine]
Stepping on a land where thousands of history were made and getting to learn the stories by heart; those are the things that a true traveler should pursue other than mere eye-catching panorama or even photogenic spots.
Places contain stories, and so does the Mount...
Tuesday, July 19, 2016
Not A Fairytale
Princesses with long hairs and crowns on their heads,
wearing floor-touching nightgowns,
while being guarded in lavish mansions,
attending classic dance balls,
crossing paths with anticipated kings from certain kingdoms,
and ending up marrying one of them—
oh, the cliches of fairytales.
But if I was to believe in fairytales,
and the beauty in the stories;
if I was to avow my conviction toward the idea of a magic lamp
and the...
Tuesday, July 12, 2016
The Ghost in Distance
Had I never pressed the playback button, I would never have to find myself crawling out of the pain caused by the absence of the figure I used to consume day and night—the pointy edges of your shoulders, the messy hair strands of yours, and the pair of lips that goes in accordance with the motion of your beautiful but piercing words.
Had I never laid a hand on the camera, I would never have to find myself digging through the...
Friday, July 8, 2016
Why Did You Ask?
Why did you ask me to explain everything in detail, when your mere presence already brings me into a state of loss for words?
Why did you ask me why I was acting weird, when your attentive stare is what makes me wonder how should I behave?
Why did you ask me if I was sleepy, when I would never want to close my eyes with you in my sight?
Why did you ask me to rest, when your shoulder is where I would lie my head onto?
Why...
Tuesday, April 12, 2016
It's A Who
They say only a fool would fall for you,but I know I am not.Because of all things—every move you made I observed,every step you took I followed,every ally you had I approached,every outfit you wore I remembered,every place you hid in I discovered——with my entire ingenuity had I succeeded in performing all those,but still I failed;in bringing every piece of your heart into my world,and escorting every piece of you into my arms.If...
Monday, February 22, 2016
The Theory of Gravity
Gravity is not responsible for people who are falling in love, they say.
If that is the case, then I should be floating in the air right now; not knowing how to stand on my feet and instead trying to grip onto something rigid that sticks to the unshakeable wall in order to find the balance between my physical body and the atmosphere—but in fact, the only thing that I wish to put into balance is nothing but my heart and my...
Sunday, February 21, 2016
Boundaries of Ego
If houses were created with no roofs, the beautifully patterned constellation of the stars in the dark night sky would be what our eyes would see before we close them and lay down to sleep.
If rooms were created with no walls, privacy would be no more than a hallucinatory fantasy that we would possibly risk higher stakes merely for the sake of detaining the deadly secrets we own to stay in ambush.
If lawns were created with...
Tuesday, September 15, 2015
Of An Ashtray
Because there is so much more of an ashtray than mere garbage for used cigarettes. The burden from holding another person's leftovers and the disgust from keeping all the dirt deep inside its soul, relates to me in one way or another. Always absorbing the dirtiest trashes of life with no one to cleanse the mess inside; is it like...
Friday, August 7, 2015
Saturday, July 25, 2015
The Ocean
You are like the ocean
Your waves drag me deeper
Crashing me far into the middle
Where I begin to lose my grip
That I can no longer stand on my own feet
It is only when I start drowning
I realize that I'm tired of trying
To find a gap for me to breathe
In between your ebbs and flows
I swim against the current
Heading...
Wednesday, December 24, 2014
The Clearwater Well
You were drawing some clearwater from the well when you, by accident, scratched the formerly flawless palm of your hand to the craggy stone of its mouth, and you bled. You were so hurt that you dropped your bucket hard and spilled what you had collected earlier, leaving the bucket empty again, as it was in the first place. You fell to your knees with your tongue bitten by your own teeth, trying to control the pain you knew you...
Tuesday, June 24, 2014
Drops: Blood or Water?
Drops of water for those in drought
And drops of blood of those who fought
Both powerful to put one into thought
Of doing a thing one was never taught
To throw away what one has brought
To finish a sentence, not with a dot
To let what is still alive rot
And to never worry about getting caughtHarsh is the world, yet do not be gnawedTempting it is to willfully miss a blindspotBut may we always give ourselves another shotFor a mendable...
Wednesday, June 18, 2014
A Love That Forbids
Either this is freedom or trust
This isn't something on my list of must
It's something as irritating as rust
And as unwanted as dust
I'd rather live under the power of rules
And to be limited only to my to-dos
Because as much as it turns my rainbows to blues
It still brings me closer to the clues
The clues of what it feels like to carry
An emotion so magical like a fairy
Which The Son received through Mother Mary
An overflowing...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)