June 01, 2012
Dear friends,
Give yourself a quite some time to unwind and to think without pressure. Just a glass of tea and serenity while in a trance brought by the magic of music. A place where you could just sit back and relax and feel the air as it crawls on your skin. Pure and cold. Get away with the pleasure of being alone; pump your gas harder and open you windows. A morning without anxiousness but a cup of coffee and bread fresh from the oven, spoil yourself a little. Even just for a day.
Note to self,
Edison
(Source: penandpassion)
May 24, 2012
Dear friends,
What will you do if the ones you confide your feelings with; people whom you trust; those who makes you feel that you are being taken cared of; people you don’t consider as friends but as family are now doomed to be gone. Not because they want to but because they have to. Destiny is so funny, it’ll take something off if you are starting to get used to it— to enjoy with it.
I wonder if life’s being shitty or it’s just how the way life goes; to give us some challenges that will make us — eventually— bitter better person. It’s funny because if I fail to survive all of these, I might get be dragged down by those problems that are supposed to cheer me up in the end. If I am the real Percy Jackson in this life, I know what my fatal flaw is: FRIENDS, the hardest one.
If someone’s gonna write my life in a book, it’ll be a thousand pages of challenges. Great.
Love always,
Edison
(Source: penandpassion)
You wonder why things happen. The chair you’ve once reserved will now be occupied with questions and nostalgia, moreover, moments you have created will stay as memories that are reserved for reminiscing. And more than broken promises; failures with numbers; possible progression that may have been acquired; slips to obtain the plethora of a particular field; is the question “Why?”
(Source: penandpassion)
May 17, 2012
Dear friends,
Most of the people love to sleep, at least that’s what I know— ‘cus I am one of those. I wonder why. Maybe the reason why they love to do so is not because they are just tired, or just lacking enough hours of sleep but because they wanted to dream, to escape the somehow-repugnant-reality.
I can dream when in slumber, hence I love to sleep; dream that I can do whatever I want, that I can be the person I dreamt to be.
For the wee hours of morning, I wake up because abominable monsters from reality keep on chasing me even in my dreams.
Love always,
Edison
(Source: penandpassion)
During weekends — rest days — this is what I usually do; smoking ‘til the room is permeated solely with smoke from the fag; eating and dreaming that one day I’ll be big man with a fat ass; drinking tea; and smoking again.
But now I gotta spend it with my OS book ‘cus I need to review for my final examination (wish me luck!) but the highlight of this day will be at night; that’s gonna be a night where lungs will also be filled with alcohol. :)
May 08 2012
Dear friends
I really do find it cute listening to heart as it beats; something I wanna do someday is to lay down beside the one I love, I’ll sing her to sleep even though I am not that good at it, to see her as she cuddle beside me as we share the heat from our body, I’ll listen to her heart as it beats. Some of us find it shallow, something that we shouldn’t dream about.
But for me it’s more than enough. It’s one of my dream.
Love always,
Edison
(Source: penandpassion)
May 06 2012
Dear friends,
A wound will only get hurt the moment I noticed that I already got it. It’s funny ‘cus even how badly it bleeds, I won’t bother to say “ouch” ‘til I see it bleeding, and when I see that I have one, that’s the only time where I’ll manage to say it hurts.
Just like my life, like me. No matter how my life is a mess, I don’t feel like crying nor to feel sad and alone. That’s for the mere reason that I see my life in different perspective, but when I other people push me to see how my life really goes, I tend to see those big holes; the holes and slips of me being a human— Things I can’t do, or I have failed to do so. And then I’ll start to cry, to feel the pain as it crawl deep within my skin. I feel happy when people needs me and they want me to stay because I make them smile, or make them laugh their hardest. And when they start to keep their distance for the reason I don’t know, I’ll just shrug and pretend that there’s nothing wrong and will still try to talk to them. Things will just change, and I’ll only start to feel the pain when the wound is already conspicuous that no fake smiles and failed conversation can no longer conceal. Eventually, I’ll get tired and will start to feel the ache— the ache from a deep wound I don’t know where I get from.
So whenever I got wound, I wish not to see it. It reminds me of myself. Moreover, it reminds me of those repugnant holes I can’t conceal.
Love always,
Edison
(Source: penandpassion)
May 05, 2012
Dear friends,
One of my favorite places to hang out with a pen and paper— and a joint— is fire exit. What I love about them is that they make me feel relax; at ease; they make me feel myself— without fake smiles, just the pleasure of being alone. A place where I could consult my pen and shout my thoughts out through spilled ink.
I was smoking my second cigarette at school’s fire exit when I remembered the last text message I received:
“I kinda missed your old witty thoughts.”
I realized how I was away from my friends, of how I survived three months without talking to them, to her. The person whom I can talk to whatever is on my mind. A pang of epiphany washed through me that sent shivers down my spine.
“Damn it. I survived three months without opening my thoughts up. Wow!”
I wonder if this is better, just keeping my silence— to just go outside the fire exit when I can no longer bear with what I feel and burn my lungs out.
Love always,
Edison
(Source: penandpassion)
Sometimes, I wonder why we shouldn’t give up just because it is hard. If I think I can’t do it— afraid that I’ll get fail— to begin with, why should I dare to try it?
And then I realized that I should try things even if they seemed hard not because it’s just okay to taste failure, but because it’s for me to value the pleasure of trying my best even if I am bound to fail. Moreover, how could I say myself that I’ve done my part if I didn’t dare to try what I am afraid of?
It’s true, we’ll never know unless we try it.
April 24, 2012
Dear friends,
I must admit, I easily get attach with people around me. I don’t think if I should continue being like this— all I know is that they are kind-hearted and I don’t want my mind to be corrupted with what was spew on other people’s mouth— with something that they are really not.
It’s a bit hard, almost frustrating to see how others just believe on hearsay. I don’t get it; I mean, how could they do that? Easily believe that some other people were born wicked even if they really know the person. It’s just sad that they can do that in just a snap like how I like other people easily.
Like what I always say; I give out trust just like that, not because I am clingy but because I believe that one’s nature is a good heart.
Love always,
Edison
(Source: penandpassion)
