My Present

’m not good at picking gifts or throwing surprises for birthdays. So friends, short text messages or a big smile accompanying sentence “Happy Birthday!” were all you get. And please noted that it was the most sincere wishes from me. At birthday parties, I like to sing the song loud in different languages. People will think I am crazy but as usual I don’t care.
But I do care about you. Although I woke you up in the middle of the night, popped up in front of your door and instead of singing multilingual happy birthday, I gave you my big grin “Happy Birthday!” It was not that I don’t care because I forgot to buy candles and instead of birthday cake, I bought you donuts. And maybe you call me crazy because after we finished the donuts I sing happy birthday in Spain, Mandarin and Sundanese. Then fell asleep as soon as possible.

I don’t know. I couldn’t think of a better idea. And you might called me naïve and selfish because my idea of greatest birthday present is my presence.

Happy birthday, Lovey. You are my heaven berry, my tira-miss-u always, my sunset sun and my cup of hot tea first thing in the morning.

I want you in my window

I want you in my window
I want your big blue dramatic sky and spotted of white clouds
I want your gradually purple-pinkish color at the end of the day
I want your family reunion atmosphere soflty hugged me and lullabying me until sleep
I want your twinnings blackcurrant tea accompanying me first thing in the morning
I want your weekend rendezvous in between coffeeshop hopping
I want your perfect mix of coffee befriended with spiderman cake
I want your ever so beautiful sunset in ever so beautiful beachscape
I want your cows crowding the street I need to walk on
I want your friendly hello shouted loud from all over the compound
I want you popped up in my computer screen asking me where I have been
I want you popped up in front of me, stand tall and still
I want your eyes looking at me directly without glass within
I want you in my window

Catatan kecil dari Banda Aceh

Supposedly Stupid

Taken from old post:
When you slowly stroke my hair, and I unconsciously pretended nothing happened, I knew it. This was unregretful spontaneous things I want to have back then. And when we were facing each other, I knew it. This was the missing emotion I should have back then. The young adult woman’s feeling written literally in teenlits genre novels. So eager to explore and and not afraid to try anything. To fall gracefully in love and not ashamed to cry over a heartache.

Shoud I repeat the sentence once again?
To fall gracefully in love and not ashamed to cry over a heartache.

Ah, I’m so loving young adult fiction. But there are times and places for all those things. As of now, I should stick with what I have been going through. Starting each day with a smile, and be glad to overcome obstacles. Supposedly.

The Girl Who Fell in Love with the Sea

So I’ve been too much in love with you. It has been giving me a sense of dizziness in my head. And everywhere I turn too, I search for the blue. Could it be in somebody’s eyes or in the color of afternoon sky? Should I look you up on the travel magazine or national geographic ocean edition?

I feel lost in the city. As the previous story, I just want to be by your side. Kiss you on your salty lips, and treasuring the way you caressing my skin. Feel the warmth of the sun above you, as I swing my body from side to side.

The trip have ensured the feeling in my heart. This could not have been a mistake, for loving you this big. Not a mistake at all, at the moment we met eye to eye, and you hugged me with your open arms. Oh, how I love the blue in you, as well as your orangish sun. And didn’t we have fun, doing nothing as we sit next to each other? Me and my blue stripes beach towel, you were all calm and chill. Talked nothing and quiet still. What was wrong here? It was the presence that simply matters.

I’ve been too much in love with you. Or, is it just as much as an infatuation?