The House of Desperate Souls

I am an open house
A friend lurked from the yard,
watching me go about my day
I smiled and flicked a small talk
Watching me closely with a sense of longing in his eyes,
a joke cracked between us
and we laughed until our stomachs hurt
He made his way inside
His movement was a rushed one,
some unnatural gestures in the eye of an amateur
Blurred the line between a stranger, a friend, and a lover
I went along with it
At night I couldn't stop asking myself
Am I the last resort, a house people like to stay at when all the hotels are booked?

People come and go as they please,
leaving the door opened each time
Each time it is doubting my own foundation,
it is tearing apart my own walls to see what I am

I never knew what I want,
so I kept letting them in despite the uncertainty that loomed silently in the dark
But now I do,
I finally do know what I want

(On being a late bloomer: It feels really weird to get something for the first time when you're way past age. Just when I think that I would be this stuck and numb for the rest of my life, time throws a gift of growth that keeps life moving.)

Mind Branches

IV.
Tension
   we know it's there right underneath us -
   it's all we can think about at some point of our lives
   a monster with the ability to wipe all of us out
   yet we pretend there's no such thing
   going about our lives,
   we make noises about everything
   anything
   except that.

III.
New faces, new places, sky with different colors
   I miss blank slates already.

II.
Fear is a bitch
   Everybody is supposed to have a success story
   Why can't I conquer mine?

I.
Admiring you from afar is a new kind of sadness.

Your Cave

What is your choice of self-destruction?
Running until you're collapsed — numb limbs, gasping for breath, struggling to keep a bit of air in your lungs?

Burning your insides with countless packs, waiting till the day it gets you?
Going out to dangerous places alone at night, feeling high and impulsive,
Or is it driving at 100 on highway, your body getting lighter as you float with the wind — for the sole feeling of freedom, of spontaneity, of assurance?

Is it eating as much as you can until there's no room anymore for pain, until you're this close to exploding?

Is it avoiding sunlight, locking yourself in with LCD screen exposure 24/7?
Is it sleeping until you can't take it anymore—looking emptily as the clock ticks by, or is it painting all night for the 3rd time in a row?

Is it staying out late as far from home as possible — drinks in hand, crowds to drown your thoughts?

Is it scratching your skin, sinking your nails deep inside your flesh to move the thoughts away even for just a few seconds?
Is it taking shower with ice cold water, scrubbing away those cells for hours until your whole body is red, irritated, and swollen?

Is it laxatives, is it pills, is it bleach?
Is it dangerous hike and dive in some foreign country?
Is it working for 18 hours a day to avoid some thoughts?

So bare with me,

What is your choice of self-destruction?

siklus self-doubt

ketika kamu (seharusnya) dapet 100 di kuis satu-satunya matkul yg kamu menguasai. lalu iseng ngelirik kiri, kaget karena jawabannya beda semua, ganti 2 jawaban yg ragu, dan berakhir dengan nilai rata-rata.

i dont understand why i let this kind of thing happened to me more than once. why cant you learn from your exact past experience like everyone else goddamnit. congratulations, you deserve a frickin medal to be this spineless, flip-flopping lil piece of shit. enjoy the taste of unfulfillment in your mouth for the rest of the week!

Dogville: My Entire Humanity Crisis in One Movie

ten thousand blades striking at once

But if you have no part in the world, no matter how diseased the world is, you are dead. It is not enough to earn your living, do no actual harm to anyone, tell no lies, help a few people with money or kindness when the occasion presents – and without too great a hardship to oneself. It is not enough. It is okay. It is not dirty. But it is dead.

– Martha Gellhorn

A Letter to Myself

Look behind
The wall I built has gotten too thick,
too big,
too tall

The guard is strong and impenetrable

Spending the last few years inside,

I've grown accustomed to the dark

From a little space I watch people grow,
their lives flash before my eyes
Taking notes, calculating, interpreting
I am a still in their background,
a streak of paint that's not meant to be there,
an off-color no one notices even though it doesn't belong with the rest of the painting

Taking notes, calculating, interpreting
Trying to understand the world,
but staying in my own, the one I created for myself
Trying to understand life,
without having one

You can't fathom the unfathomable
Each a phantom of a soul's mind
Let go, let loose
Step out,
it's time.

• —Inspired by Life Beyond Walls, a poem by d.c.r