Tuesday, July 12, 2016


Well hello there, I just reread what I wrote previously.. That was stupid I destroyed it. I do not want to give you a bad impression, I apologize. First of all, Happy Eid. I have been working for the past five days and I was extremely exhausted thus a very good long sleep I had gift myself in return;which continues after this post. Things are great, or to be specific 2016 has been extremely well although life is always changing like a puff of wind in the air. Isn't life is supposed to be like that? There is nothing like realizing that you don't have much time left to stimulate your appreciation for the moments of your life. I mean it sounds corny, but I started to really experience stuff for the first time, like the beauty of patience when I grew up hating on waiting although I have to stand by a fluffy blossoms, blooming tree or pink clouds with little sparkles of sunlight. Time is really important for me. For the first time in my life, I had a project and a goal to focus on. I had to figure out everything I wanted to accomplish in my remaining time on earth, sounds like I'm dying...but nope, think of it as if tomorrow is your last day on earth, wouldn't you want to see a small tick beside your list of life? But, aren't we all dying anyways? Make the best out of it.

I have so much to write, where should I start?

Sunday, August 9, 2015


I spent last night in a forest with my friends. It was a perfect night despite the struggle between the dark and us. I'm not going to complain more about it because that was what I wanted. A dark calm night, like the crickets love their forest. Lets go back to yesterday. I let my windows open, it is an old school window where you have to use a certain wood for a stand. My eyes travel over the trees a lot. I pursue the pattern of each tree to its last convolution, noticing every mark of age. My fingers are too busy examining whatever it is touching. I've already captured some photos earlier. Towards evening I sit alone in the room, not bothering my friend who is having a great time with her boyfriend at the resting place, an old wooden table with three chairs, I saw a big grasshopper there earlier. I happened calmly to glance into the interior of the room, the walls are see through. Not obvious but I can see the outlines of a movement outside. There's a cross on top of the bed which I took down after. In my mind, I could die in the room tonight, it is old, creepy and beautiful.

That's for a start. Nothing much happened besides chilling until 3AM while they were drunk and I joined the crazy happiness. And no, I wasn't drinking, I promise. I didn't had a good sleep because a friend of mine encountered a ghost outside and her boyfriend and her sisters boyfriend had to sleep with us. I was alone, for sure. Wasn't that sad? A couple on the bed, another couple on top of my head and then there's me, with my blanket. Well, at least they felt safe and I was okay.

I am a total abyss.
And there is nothing left but the voluminous abysses, the immobility, the cold.

I am no longer in a relationship. We decided to separate, ending our 2 years of relationship. Something touched me, something that made me think about part of us which insists on drawing profiles on prison walls. Oh, I do have feelings for him, still. I could tell you about his scars, his veins, his hair and his expressions. I could talk about it all night long, but I better not. 

"Goodnight, I would love to hear your voice sometimes."
"Goodnight, call me too."

I've never heard about him, since. I haven't deleted or change anything yet. I will when I am okay. Our meaning has been lost. But it was then that for the first time I perceived the presence of that thing I didn't understand which had something to do with happiness and memory, and towards which slowly, heavily I began to walk. In the past,when I had a pain and it passed away, I was happy; now I am merely relieved, while there is this bitter feeling in me 'only to be well again, nothing more'.

I have a question. What if we awake one day, all of us... and find ourselves utterly unable to read?

Sunday, August 2, 2015


Hi, here I am slowly vacuumed into an abyss of destruction. I'm borrowing my brothers laptop because mine is dying and I'm not going to purchase another; I kinda think I have a future and a laptop isn't needed for the career. 

No, this post will not be about Millia because I am not ready, I am still in love with her.

This is just a short update of how I have been, to those loyal reader of a shitty writer. I was recently awaken by certain events that bought me to a realization, that no matter how much effort you've shown, how nicely you are dressed, how many chances you've wasted, you will never be enough for anyone. That had left me to my very first real heartbreak. I will talk about my love life later. I have been home for almost a year, it's not because of I'm lazy to work my ass off and find a job. I had and I'm having troubles, but I think I'm ready for an interview soon because I need to leave and be alive. I love home, I love the garden, I love seeing my mother but there's a dark side of it whether its the house or the energy. I'm ready to leave.

I opened my eyes this morning, feeling happy despite my ruined bodyclock. Because I knew today I was going to be surrounded by nature. And me, who in the photo that has faded in the envelope still smiles at vanished sun. I spent today by attaching my butt to a rock on a hill, reading Anne Frank which I had bought finally after years and years of forgetting the most important book by filling the shelf with the weird ones. Does it hurt when you see forests being burned? Hows destroying nature be called progress?

My relationship has been rough. What does it means when what usually kills you doesn't hurt you anymore? Figure it out yourself. I have a picture of my 40 years old me living alone near a zoo with 50 cats and 2 cubs. The light is already dim here. Should I try to spark our love again? How? Why would I break myself?

Thursday, January 15, 2015

Life In Concentration Camp

Drawing about the living hell by an escaped prisoner of North Korean Concentration Camp

Tuesday, January 13, 2015

A Line for 3 Years

As a victim of my own thoughts I've tried and still trying my best to have a distance between expressing and living, congratulating my gravity or these threads would float around and drowns me down. On the very last day I bought a diary from Typo and I've been writing since then. I do not have a phone yet..again repeating....to post them up here. I love how I can actually use the diary for 3 years but the cover is polkadotish which is obviously the opposite side of me but naw you don't judge the book by its cover;yet sometimes I do. I couldn't find a matching pen for it oh hell no not mentioning a polka dot pen please, just a plain black pen//a colorful markers would be hella work.

I didn't write anything on the 1st of January as I got it on the 3rd same goes to the 2nd day of the month. It is filled with the upcoming important characters who are currently living inside this book Tough;Dad Sexy;Mom Baby;Jun Caplan;Brother Guilt;Brother Fliky;Brother et cetera. 2nd is filled with photos(which I will post soon) and my answer to

What Do You Love Most About The Weekend?
Sleep. Where the surface of the bed will be amazingly 10x better than before sleeping. Where I can recall the face of the people that I passed by the previous night, knowing that they do not need to be efficient the next day, less responsibilities, relaxed. Where the leader will make time for their families, weekend is where the malls are full of crying babies and the kids laughter;while the parents would sometimes fight of the burden. Where the volunteers of Pandawas School sacrificing their time for the sake of the kids future. Where I..can be home enjoying my tea while it's raining.

Let's not write about myself.

This post is supposed to be long but let's just wait until I have the mood to write or a phone will post a photo up first. Surprise..................


On the 3rd of January, I bought this book. I was with Jun, Koochi and Nad. I didn't talk much or wasn't I always like that(?) I just wanted to enjoy my last night in silence knowing that once I reach home I would be on my bed crying;still in silence. It's not hard to fake up a smile. That night, the bedroom was strange, it was empty. Unfamiliar. My eyes adjust to some dark coloured pants folded neatly I still remember the view, it was the preparation for tomorrow. This is it, the goodbye.

The question for the day was when and where was your last selfie? It was in Jun's car all along. I might update the photos but with my face blurred out are there still points? I didn't write much. My fingertips were sad.


I woke up, wishing it was still November.
Goodbye lovely people. 
My memory splits there.

Sometimes when I'm alone, I like to?
I spend a lot in the kitchen. I love it when mom is not home. The medicine corner, I don't know. I read the descriptions of each and I would google them up. I don't know what I want to do it was just addictive but I do not take any. I'm also a darkstuff addict;horror,mystery,scifi. If I were to have a laptop(it was broken too, recently), I would have more than 5 bar for them, I love to read them up. I am not going to mention here of what I am believing because there's risk of sickheads attacking me on Ask.fm asking me about believing in God. Why don't I answer you here, I do not worship demon..I know my religion.


coma baby, with your sick head
the doctors saved you, but you're still dead
through your scalp I would like to reach in
so i could pull out the monster you've been

but you would do anything to
destroy the body that they rescued
your sick little head, so brain damaged
lying in that hospital bed

coma baby, the cry of your bones
and your skull when it split on the road
i wish i'd find all your lonely remnants
of you that left when your head cracked open

but you would do anything to
destroy the body that they rescued
your sick little head, so brain damaged
lying in that hospital bed

lately i can't recognize you
the doctors lied when they said they saved you
you're just the shell of the boy that you've been
and you're dying, i can feel it



What makes you unique?
I don't.

Monday, January 12, 2015


Good night to my fellow sick readers. The reason why I am writing at this hour is to tell you that I am safe and alive. Let's just forget about what happened to me previously. Thank you to those who texted asking whether I was there and wanted to talk. I didn't reply any, deepest apology from me but I remember each of you. I do not have a phone right now because it's broke(dad said I would destroy everything thats on my reach;which is quite true), I am currently using my old iPod which has limited space with only wechat inside. My brother left his laptop unattended so I wouldn't miss the opportunity to visit my networks. So I am so very very very sorry to a certain friend of mine who thinks I have a rotten soul. I do extremely agree but let's have a different point of views alright? I won't judge yours so let me be. 

I am no longer in school, I graduated;yay. I am now home with the relatives telling me how skinny I am and mom is hiding whatever pills or supplement....sucks. The first thing that I did wasn't greeting my family, but greeting the weighing scale. Let's just say I don't have anorexia since I haven't went through diagnosis yet but I met all the criteria. But I do feel like Ana is always around. She asked me to stopped eating, she asked me to be aware of the calories, it's her fault. F you Ana.

How can someone drown for so long and stay alive?

I am no longer a teen. My peripheral personality is still somewhere stucked in a land of cactus at an undiscovered desert and does not want to let the conclusion out. I am sad to admit that I am a confused prick who tries to swim a different stream. As for my future planning, dad asked me to stay home and eat a lot for now. I want to work but it has to be working with animals(although I graduated with something else). Is it okay if I work at the zoo? Can I survive? God knows how I love animals. I was thinking of opening an organization for the strays but I want more, I need to be in the wildlife. I need to face the wild animals;thats my dream. And I love kids but I get bored easily of doing the same thing everyday, maybe teaching the refugees once in a week is okay. Oh my god I am useless. 

The night is painful. I will try to blog as often as you farted.

Here's a swimming frog, goodnight.

Monday, July 14, 2014

Sick Art

"It describes a person with psychological problems such as schizophrenia, insanity, depression or other mental problems. His endless screaming makes his own mind eat him up."
Sebastian Eriksson, 20