I wrote Daisy a letter.

He once asked me

What was one supposed to do when you were interested in another person

I didn’t think,

“understand him”

“love what he loves, listen to what he listens to, see the world from his eyes”

he didn’t comment, but in my vague memory he said

“it's a pity you cannot own the person you love”

Today I rewatched The Great Gatsby

I wrote Daisy a letter three years ago.

Titled: “ a letter from Jay Gatsby” venue: Gatsby’s poolside before he was shot

I wonder what I’ve written.

I was amazed at how differently the same movie spelt itself out

This time, I am mesmerized with Mia Farrow’s hats and hats and hats.

I no longer cared too much about the missing subtitles or the lines that appeared in the book and never got to the screen

I was amazed, like moths attracted to the light, no more

I secretly admired Nick Carraway, being an important nobody who always get to see the entire of Gatsby’s house

The green light. Though, still caught my eye

The villains of love, and who are they?

Its just a movie

It’s just love. 


Do you want to know me? I'll show you what you want to see

it is rare for me to have decided on the title of the post before filling in its content

I developed a habit not to label anything, including a post as minute and unimportant as this

the issue of the day:

to what/whom/where am i accountable

I used to take bliss in being a little of everything

like the butterfly that flew here and there

enjoying the feeling of having made an impression.

and let everybody remember the lightest, fearless part of me.

I don't want to make them jealous, no

just to make them believe

that something as light as a feather does exist

that although the world is much deeper than the one before our eyes

its a blessing just to flutter around and have fun

it was working

until accountability sets in my reality

the need for integrity

the need for predictablity

the need for safety

I felt the most vulnerable when falling into a routine

I felt that it is for people who doesn't want to think.

routine was once my safehouse,

I thought drawing a line and keeping myself within its borders will bring me a long way

until the mind starts to crave. for things i have never yet imagined

how can i change my lifestyle to suit my needs.

i was messed up when I fell out the lines

I looked around, the world is space.

much more unpredictable than I could have ever imagined.

is predictability the necessary component of safety?

my instinct told me it isn't

but my rational mind gave me an answer:

knowledge is safety

predictability, in subjective terms, is a means

I hope I get it across good enough.

for now, it means

more reading for the night.

p.s. the name of the post was meant to be accountablity. I will never again name my post before I write.