make it belong

i realise

it is not how long you held onto something that made it your own

it is how much of youself you place into that string of life called time

to be able to make it your own.

I used to be afraid to see more

Given the Rashomon effect, it doesn't matter how much information you have

it is just down to you and me.

I don't believe I can still locate my heart when hearsay pulled me into all directions

so I believe in the story you told

and take it as our love story.

I used to want everything to belong

familiarity is my safehouse.

I cannot bear the thought of sharing

especially something I used tears and time to let grow.

But why, things are never the way you want them to be.


if lessons are learnt with less impact than before, please take it as a blessing.

I will try to strengthen myself with better morals

and savor the hurt for later.

be a warrior of love

I started writing out of pain

this is nothing but a product of a self-remedified antidote

until today

it is a place for self-teaching

of bliss :)

have you ever loved deeply enough

so much that you feel like words no longer expresses themselves (excuse moi from a blogger)

so you reach out to everything he love

and try to love them as well

so that you can understand how he lived his life

before you came along.

Someone used to ask what I will do when I realise i fell in love

i said without hesitation

"listen to his music, hear his mind"

understanding, i thought is a bridge, between human alienation.

pardon the years, the gaps, the immoralities.

i thought if one loved enough, one day these realistic spaces will melt like vanilla icecream on warm apple pie

but i forgot something essential

that even if i become vanilla icecream, he is still in another medium.

Love is bilateral.


until I met him

he is not apple pie, but cookies and cream

i remember the first time we had icecream.

I decide to pass, "it is too sweet"

he said "never fear. you only live once"

Im still skeptical until i realise,

even if i am in denial of myself, i am still icecream in nature.

its ok to melt, once in a while.

so you can make life taste different, live it differently.


so long for being vulnerable

if fear for hurt is the reason for denying love

then how can i proudly claim i deserve it without scars at the back of my mind

be a warrior of love

thats the most I can do.



I hope one day when the candle flame flickers in the dark winding road ahead

some morning ray will show me the light


I love you.

make me fearless

10 min ago, i almost decide to abandon my baby

why should a rational grown up hide in this little space and try to sing her heart out

until i told someone important, someone very important

i miss him.

i almost felt a tear on my sleeve.

sometimes, one cannot run away from some real feelings.

even if you try to make yourself fearless

feelings are not a synonym of fear

today i talked to an old friend

about racism, choice and love.

he is proud of all the things he didnt believe in.

i was proud that I didn't believe a single thing he said.

why but if you just fall a little deeper, look a little further

you are not losing it but on the course of finding something.

today i found the reason to believe in love.

because someone told me its fine to get hurt and make mistakes

please just dont give up

just because you feared, never fear for love.

小心翼翼

all this time, i've learnt to be careful. 

all this time, i was told to care less. 

it wasn't to be or not to be 

but to choose and not to indulge 

not to indulge in merely the good, but to learn to adapt at the worst 

not to shed your inner compass but to embrace your emotions with your rational thinking

to produce a "civilized" choice

and pursue it by running as fast as you can. 

if only it can be that simple,

all being said, it is just a very valid excuse not to abide by overdue deadlines. 

excuse moi 

it has been good. 

dont be afraid of better 

time can be manipulated by love 

please be mine forever. 

something called love

when did it become like this?

i once proudly wrote. I will try my best for a better tomorrow. even if I'm so thoroughly hurt I won't be able to feel anymore

sometimes things like that should not sound so certain.

what should one do when they stopped letting themselves feel

when feeling is always the one and only thing I'm certain of

why is it hurting when no one is hurting

why did I stop believing when there is something to believe in again?


why am I doing this to myself?

she said " it feels weird if everything felt too right"

why did I let her words dictate my life

I wish and wish and wish I could believe in what he said

i knew it is not easy for him to do this too

when I love you meant no more than 3 words and 8 letters

how can I tell you what is love.

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.