the water particles in my tears just cried.
this is one of the most beautiful thing i have ever seen. and the reason being because it tells a story about life. about love, marriage, birth, sacrifice and death.
life is beautiful. beauty in love, beauty in death, beauty in everything. i applaud the crew for being able to recreate this very emotional depiction of life.
hey blog…
this would be another post-drunk post. yesterday i went to a Halloween party at a club down St. Catherine’s and i know that i said i wouldn’t go overboard because i have to study today, but i pre-drank a lot already. had approximately 10 shots of gin and a shot of tequila and some vodka. didn’t have dinner and only ate a measly bowl of soup for lunch. i am… so mad at myself right now i don’t even… i feel like inflicting pain at myself over and over again but i know that wouldn’t solve anything.
so it wasn’t enjoyable yesterday. it was a horrible mess to be honest. i got separated from Keidan there and was very very worried. and then i suddenly felt sick when i was looking for her. and you know that it never ends well if i get sick because the time span in between getting sick and being hungover is like 3 minutes for me. i don’t get headaches, i don’t get sad or find everything funny, i am sane mentally and know what is going on… i don’t forget names and i remember everything, it’s just that my body is not functioning properly. and i hate when that happens. i hate when my mind is functioning but i can’t control my body and everyone insists on treating me like a child…. i’m grateful that people actually cares about me but in my case, since i’m still mentally sane, it gets all weird for me.
anyways~ here’s my two cents. for people who thinks that ‘living the life’ is to get drunk, then don’t do it. it’s not that i actually thought about it that way, but since i have experienced it firsthand, i can say that it’s not worth it. listen to your parents when they say that there is much more to life than just being popular and going out with friends and dancing and drinking, because there is. sitting in a small little cafe with a mind-blowing book and a fantastic cup of tea is a zillion times better than getting wasted.
and i know you might get tired with me talking about my drinking experience often but i’m determined to record everything that i’ve been through in this blog. not just fun and happy things where everything are rainbows and cupcakes of every shade but also the things that embarrass the hell out of me, things that makes me angry, things that mortify me.
and this is one of those moments, where i write my story that i hoped has never happened knowing that it would get published for people to read.
i hope you excuse my method, but writing is the easiest way for me to redeem myself.
when i finally meet you, i’m going to hold your hands. just hold your hands….
i’m going to show you the rivers on my palms, the nails that are chipped, and the calluses that form from a summer job three years ago. i’m going to show you the valley of the in betweens, where your fingers are latched to mine, and mine to yours. a place so private, i’ve never let anyone in before.
because when i finally meet you, i’m going to let my fingers tell you a story…. of the little cat that was stuck on a tree, and of the little boy that scratched his palm on the tree bark. of the invention of an eco-bottle, and of a frustrated idiot who accidentally sliced his middle finger with a knife trying to make a hole for the little fish that is gasping for air. of a paper cut from a bunch of warm white crisp papers out of the printer for an immunology thesis. i’d tell you everything.
my hands aren’t the prettiest hands. the lumps and bumps are staying, the calluses more so. but these hands will build you a house, and feed you. it will dry your tears. it will curl up into fists and fight for you. we’ll be like this, hand in hand when you see your first snow and say that they look like pixie dusts, and even when the wind comes knocking at my knuckles, i swear i won’t let go… for as long as you’ll have me.
and i will do just that because it is my way of making a promise, that even though it is just for a moment, you will never have to face the world alone.
2012(c) Victoria Rahardjo please do not take without my consent.
i was in my boxers and nothing else, sitting in front of the glass wall of my apartment that was slightly foggy because of the AC.
i was debating on whether or not i should scratch my armpit, but instead diverted my thoughts to the mug of searing hot Americano sans sucre that was blowing puffs of scented smoke. it was 3 AM… and the twinkling lights of New York was absolutely beautiful. you can almost mistake them for millions of fireflies sewn together by their wings to form a giant tapestry, lain on top of the Big Apple. i cringed. i don’t even like fireflies. but one cannot mistake beauty for what it was.
on the twenty-third floor, everything seemed fine. a deceiving slumber of the city that never sleeps.
on the twenty-third floor, all i know is people are leaving their lights on outside, having a dreamless sleep if they’re lucky.
on the twenty-third floor, i saw just the shadow of New York. the shadow that glitters in the night.
because as a boy, i knew better. as a boy, exactly seven years ago on this day, i was living in the slums, and my mother died. it was 3 AM.
and the lights of New York, they are nothing but the comrades of my one single lightbulb, that was on that day, grappling on every flickers–desperate to be seen by someone on a particular apartment on the twenty-third floor. because then, i didn’t see my flickering lightbulb. all i saw was mom, dying a quiet death. a quiet, painful death.
crouched under her, i saw her eyes, slowly ridding themselves of the life that she could no longer live, and her lips which were sandwiched between her teeth, determined not to let me hear her scream. he on the other hand, was reeking alcohol. mere anger, booze money that wasn’t given, and a second later, she died at the hands of the man that has sworn to love her in sickness and in health, till death do us part.
oh he was with her when she died alright…
it took me a moment for me to realize that i was sweating. even in an air conditioned room, brine pooled at my brows. there was still no sign of the dawn that will surely break, but i already had enough of this. once a year, i convinced myself. just once a year. i ravished my Americano in three angry gulps and shut the blinds.
ducking my head under the comforter, i found that silence has already suffocated me before i had the chance to close my eyes. for seven years ago, when my mother died biting her lips, the lightbulb outside flickered to an end. and all i could see was mother’s fresh blood pooling at my side, and darkness and silence… apart from the single firefly that lazily sat on her dead left ear.
2012(c) Victoria Rahardjo please do not take without my consent.
she wore her knives on her sleeves and even more so, her heart. but who cares? being weak was never an issue for her. after all the years that she swam in fear… of the times where fear was the only food she can afford, the only drink to quench her thirst, her only friend to see her cry, she embraced him. because the tears that came… they were razor blades. and the bruises that formed on her wrists, they were tokens of the fights she had gone through. in a world full of mannequins and lies, all she had were the knives sticking on her skin, digging on her flesh, the bruises that never appear to heal, and her saccharine smile that hid her rotting lips. because she knew her heart was muscle and not glass, and she was a girl of flesh and bone, and not porcelain. for every drop of tear she shed, her nimble fingers draw blood. and for the numbers of slashes her heart received, it will callus and persevere. with that knowledge she went, hand in hand with fear and sleepless nights, to the great unknown which was destiny.
*** 2012(c) Victoria Rahardjo please do not take without my consent.
i run. i’m out of breath. stitches are forming underneath my ribcage
all i see are walls. all i smell is rust, and blood, and more rust. the smell of iron and salt.
my footsteps echo along the halls of a seemingly unending system. it’s like there is always room to run, but nowhere to hide. out of fear and frustration, i began to cry. long strands of stress and desperation flowing freely down my chubby cheeks that i tried so hard to get rid of. as if exposed to every aspects of negativity, my ears rung in warning and my tongue felt raw. rejected, ignored, under pressure.
i kept running and what was the aorta turned into small branches of capillaries. what’s worse, claustrophobia came chasing. scared, but having the need to run away from everything, i crawled inside the suffocating tubes, trying to go as fast as i can, pacing the thin surface with my palms until it felt raw. i heard the scream and i flinched, hairs rising at the nape of my neck. this is madness. this is driving me crazy. i cannot go over this.
what seemed to be escape was just another series hallways, designed to trap me in further.
running, running still, the first glimpse of despair came dripping from the dead peeling cells. washed through with a vague sense of uncertainty which was numbing, i tried desperately to dry my tears with the heel of my hands. i hate this feeling. i hate it! i hate the silence and the fact that it screamed loudly in my ears.
but what to do? i cannot cry. out of breath, i fell to my knees, and didn’t have the heart to get up again, to move on. so i gave in. i cried and cried until the first of the grief came licking up my spine and into the anterior part of my brain. the thing that i have been running away from for so long has finally caught up. i give up. i give in. i have had enough.
because there is no way out.
***
2012(c) Victoria Rahardjo please do not take without my consent.
hey blog *waves*
i’m going away today. lol. and i just finished packing like minutes ago. i guess i’m staying true to my roots. a last minute packer.
we‘ll not be going far away, but i think we’ll be going soon.
plan: finish my story ASAP! ~
since i know i’ll have LOADS of free time, i shall start working on my story. i have to. it’s compulsory. it’s mandatory. it’s a must. and i know that my previous clauses are redundant, but i’m just trying to emphasis the MUST in every sentence. i’ve put it off for too long and it’s starting to get on me. i’ve had these fantastic ideas that i couldn’t put to words and it’s frustrating me.
anyhow, i might not be able to blog for a couple of days. for 2 days to be exact. i’m not sure though… i’ll try and steal dad’s modem–if i can do that, then we’ll still keep in touch.
until then blog. *hugs* i love you, you know that, right? xoxo
this is for you who will spend the rest of your life with me. you might be a friend of mine already, or still be a complete stranger oblivious to the fact that i’m actually writing this post now, trying to make the most out of my boredom.
so here goes. can you see both of these typographies?
http://itsmoh.tumblr.com/post/7191178323/regret-nothing
http://observando.net/post/1526567411
okay, to be honest, i prefer the latter. but what do they have in common? both of them told me to… and underline this…. to not regret anything. know that with me, that is easier said than done. i almost always regret my mistakes. i’m in a way, carefree and easygoing but i’ve been living my life behind rules… basically, know that i’m a walking contradiction :s i hope you can tolerate me who always worries too much, or sometimes, worry too little–which again, leads me into regretting that i thought too little about it.
http://wild-wasted-youth.tumblr.com/post/3210597423
but there is this one moment that i don’t regret when i went completely nuts and jumped in a trolley, like that picture up there. i wish i had a picture of it, but unfortunately i don’t. :/ i just hope that you’ll not be too embarrassed with me when times like that happen, especially when i’m having a sugar rush, which is quite often if i might say. 
my best friend had to wheel me around in the supermarket just because i refuse to get out of the trolley. lol. oh, and please don’t be jealous of my best friend (yes, he’s a he. ) we’ve been together since i was two, i assure you that it’s a super pletonic relationship. 
http://ilovehimbigtime.tumblr.com/post/7922623358
but despite all the troubles that i will put you through, i will always reach out for you. even when the going gets rough. even when it gets too impossible to reach. i will try and fail, and try again. i know for the fact that i don’t get too bored with people easily. i’m not going to get bored of you. ever. and i hope you’ll feel the same way about me too.
http://hellyeahitsrandom.tumblr.com/post/7952358924
and i understand that on the way, we might get a little more doubtful. that the road might not be as smooth as we want it to be, but let’s hold hands and bear it together. because i will hurt. but i know that you’ll be hurting too. so let’s not blame each other… we will just end up hurting each other more.
http://sabrinachippszx3.tumblr.com/post/7944987258
because if you’re the right decision for me, then i will always follow you. i am a girl. but i’m not a helpless one, and i don’t need you to treat me like i’m a glass doll. i’ll be there in your darkest moments, basically when you feel the shittiest. i’ll love you for who you truly are. so when you’re sad, cry. when you’re angry, or frustrated, be mad. i’ll be there to hold your cheeks and say that everything is going to be okay.
http://inspiring-pictures.com/post/7963599793
and no, it doesn’t take a lot to make me happy…
secret #1: i’m crazy over chocolate. the darker the better.
secret #2: i’m a sucker for daisies. i think they are the friendliest flower.
http://whenlovetakes-over.tumblr.com/post/7946723069
i don’t need candlelight dinners, or moonlight serenades… even when you reply my text message, it makes me happy to know that you’ll always have time for me even though you’re busy.
http://jromannoo.tumblr.com/post/7945006712
i just need you to support me. it helps me to feel better when you’re always there, ready to catch me when i fall, both hypothetically and literally.
http://brianaariveraa.tumblr.com/post/7943264142
http://brianaariveraa.tumblr.com/post/7943805024/via-1000notesdotcom
i am just a girl and i’m scared of a lot of things. maybe, even some things that you think is just very unworthy to be feared. but however insignificant these problems are, it affects me. and i cannot lie here and say that sometimes, it affects me GREATLY. like this big. *stretches arm* probably even bigger. you don’t have to act like you understand, just show me that you care. that’s enough. that’s more than enough.
http://joyfus.tumblr.com/post/7262687234
so let’s just dance, shall we? and no matter how much trouble and pain and problems that life throw at us, we’re going to be together and fight together. even when you’re not strong enough for the both of us, i swear i’ll fight and defend.
http://ilovehimbigtime.tumblr.com/post/7966855147
oh, and one more thing. it would be nice, no… scratch that…. a blessing if you can promise me to be different. but i’d rather you not promise anything, if you’re not sure that you can fulfill it. i’ve said this a thousand time, and i’ll say it again. rules are made to be broken. NOT promises. just show me that you’re different, and i’ll be the luckiest girl in this entire universe.
i’m crazy with fairy-tales, but i don’t care if our story isn’t like one. because we’ll make our own mistakes and our happy memories. it’s knowing that you’ll be there to kiss my forehead and let me snuggle into your hug that makes me strong. i just need your comfort. that’s all.
like a line in The Notebook says: “Despite their differences, they had one important thing in common. They were crazy about each other.”
it doesn’t matter that you come from Mars and i come from Venus. so to speak. because…
and that says it all.
California King Bed by Rihanna
so i’m actually writing to you now… (ofc i am ><) and had ‘California King Bed’ on repeat when the rain decided to come and just say ‘hi’. perfect. don’t you just love how all the circumstances fit like a glove? *note the sarcasm*
i’m feeling a little down. idk if it’s from the period influence or not, but i’m beginning to lose patience. through my emotional instability, i’m beginning to lose faith. i hate these times of my life when i feel like i’m at the very bottom of a well. no, not a wishing well where i assume everything is still light and all unicorn-y, even in the bottom of it; but just an ordinary well. *nowi’mspeakingnonsensei’msorry*
i think it all comes in one package. about being in love, i mean.
i feel the rush, i feel the adrenaline, i feel the excitement when you replied to my tweet and i sure feel the tremors of my heartbeat stuck in parts of my neck when i’m having the occasional head rush from all the jumping and dancing that i do when i feel ridiculously happy. but i also feel the fear. i know a lot of people have been telling me to not be scared, and to just think positively, but sometimes, i just can’t help it. so i pray. i pray that these feelings, however insignificant these feelings are to you, that it would be mutual.
because i know that it wasn’t just a fling. i just knew. if it was, i wouldn’t bother writing about it now. for it has been ages… ages ago that those four days commence. and i’m still losing my mind up until today.
p.s. so i don’t know why i’m so tight up about this song when he’s not even from California. lol. but i guess the song is just so beautiful in all of its sadness. so there it goes.
