aku adalah angin...

as free as the wind...

dance the streams of the stars in the darkness of the night...



wish your dreams no matter how far would be true and shine so bright.

sometimes its hard to tell myself that what i do has a greater calling to it. it's that hard to surrounded by pple yet feel so completely alone at times. but day in day out i have to remind myself that its the sole reason why i allow myself to lose frens. there are days when i want to break down and just wish it all away, wish i didnt have to know of the consequences of what i know, wish i didnt have to feel obligated to try and fix things.


but i can't now… aku tak boleh menanges over what i know, aku tak boleh turn back the clock and live a life like most pple. that door is closed, forever. i will be who i am. aku akan tetap jadik aku dan mustahil aku dapat mengubah the events of the past… but given knowledge of it… i can at least do what we're all supposed to do. make a difference for the future.


but just for once i'm allowing myself one small regret to the pple that were there for me, espeshli the one who stood by me until he could not stand no longer. for both in the past and the future. hard as i am, it is one thing i will always look back to and regret with every part of my heart, these people were the paths that would take me to a different place, the place where i wish i could be but can't. it is that which i have to regretfully decline and one i have to live with, every waking moment of my day.


well… back to work. shouldn't be too hard this time, but then again i better not let any insecurities catch me at the last moment. so all the more to be prepared… onward to the subjects i have to study…


I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way than this:

...
...
...


unfinished Sonet XVII by Pablo Neruda
(i mean, she is the one who couldnt finished the beautiful lines)

'Better to write for yourself and have no public, than to write for the public and have no self.' - Cyril Connolly -