Flying Machine

I just spent my two hours deleting/randomly hiding my previous entries and ect cuz I feel so. Like so. Haven't yet writing any normal things that happened to me for these past two years and still don't know why am I signing in to this account and make a blog which literally I am actually had another two blogs that'll for sure bersawang on my other links.

Therefore, I would like to write in here a little specific about myself.
I don't actually speak well. I mostly mean, and I half a kind of an arrogant type, and I sometimes put my ego quite high from where it should be.

I've been through rough months, hard years that turned myself into one of those whiners I barely stand where I don't usually come clear with my own problems. I always run. Never had the efforts or guts to stand up straight and yell to overcome what I should've overcome.

I believe, people around me knew how messy I am and I would just love to turn myself into a whole mixture of complicated, irritating person that screwed up in life most of the times and then became silent like living in a crappy box and tend to push people away. Yes, guilty as charged but that's the way I roll myself. I screwed up, I chopped of my hair, I ran away. Plenty of running in sickening curves.

I sometimes hard to tell people what's actually goes on inside my heart but I simply tell people what's going on inside my head. It's like when you spill, you're so much close like a bird, without any burden that can make you fly. What I was trying to say is, don't be like ME. Don't run. Don't keep too much hatred inside, don't cry when you're all alone, don't write when you're sad.

And I'm still sure that I would go over that phrase all over again till I have the urge to believe in myself. It's hard for being the only one person standing without no walls and no bricks to hold on to, or even to lean on, it's even harder when you keep whining and do nothing to save your ass off. Life isn't that cruel, you made it that way. Start believing, start loving yourself, you'll be sparkling.
Embrace, dude.

Post-mortem

Bumbung hospital dan rumah mayat paling mengujakan. Paling mati.
Kubur tanpa nama paling menyeksakan. Paling peri.
Keranda tanpa penghuninya paling ngeri. Paling sepi.
Jantung tanpa pemiliknya, paling ditakuti. Hilang inti.


There was a girl and a boy before they knew each other's name and before they had their first kiss till they held their hands together, hug each other tightly, feel the heartbeats, move with the sound of the wind, dance with the unsystematic vibes, share the same pillow and bed, eat in the same tray, hunger for each other's blood, fill each either's holes, wrap each other's arms, wake up from the same view, share the same smells, and die in the same coffin.

If only they knew how it felt was.