Page 318: Hiatus

It's time to take a break. 

Find bliss in ignorance.

It's time to listen to 

the voice inside of you 

and the beautiful elusive sounds the nature made.

“Detach. Detach. Detach.”

they whispered.

“From the thoughts of fate and luck.

From the noise from mouths of others.

From ache. From ache.”

they whispered.

Jakarta, 09.07.2016

Amazing artwork by Elicia Adijanto

Page 307: Scavenging

It was a stupid game after all - to took a little piece of my heart and slipped it in your pocket.

I thought it would be fun.

I thought I would remember and would get it back before we're apart.

You didn’t realize it. 

And I forgot about it.

So you may have thrown it somewhere along with things you didn’t need.
[like the leftovers in the fridge,
or the dirt on your shoes,
or the conversation that has run dry]

But no worries.

I'll find it.

I’ll get it back someday. 

I’m pretty good at scavenging.
[and repairing]

Even without instructions,
without maps.

Let’s be strangers again.

It’s better.

It’s safer.

"Pack up, don't stray"
Maps - YYYs

Page 290: Little.Tender.Morsels

Expecting is the worst part.

It’s a hybrid of waiting and wanting. Where your imagination pretends as if it’s an oracle. Where time is – and will always be – the divine entity that can turn you into fragments of thing that ponders and wonders.

Littletendermorsels.

Page 271: Devoured

Some stupidity has the ability to refurbishing itself.

You thought you have broken the wall of that revolting labyrinth that devoured you a long time ago,
but you were wrong.

And in the morning you cursed,
you cursed the pain that slowly skulked into your heart.

That jealousy disgusts you.

"I have messed up"

Page 238: Elusive*

Those elusive feelings are written on crumpling invisible papers in the hearts of ours.

And through those papers they live.
They breathe.

We’ve been too busy to remind ourselves that we should’ve removed them long time ago.
But we didn't do anything.

Light up the fire,
my dear.

Burn them to ashes.
Let the wind scatters what have been ruined.

Tonight.  Tonight.


---

*a prose for my best friend, amoy. Haks :p