I write for me, the “me” of tonight

I am here, in my room, listening to a classical playlist by Franz Schubert while surfing the net and thinking to myself what I should do make the night less boring. I’ve lost many hobbies through the past couple of years and I have never felt so boring like this in my whole life. No, I am feeling empty. Yes, “empty” is the exact word to describe what I am feeling right now. It is like there is nothing to live for and nothing to crave for. I run out of the desire and inspirations and ambition. Everything has gone mysteriously without a trace. I no longer collect little cute things. I no longer read a book throughout the night and not able to sleep as that book is too good to stop reading. I still read sometimes but it has been a while that I have not read something worthwhile. I started a new hobby though. I draw. I used to draw a lot when I was a kid and now I want to draw again. I’ve got me a drawing book and I draw anything I feel like to.  However, it does not help a lot to make me feel better. Somehow I am stuck in the middle of nowhere. I am easy to get emotional crisis. I am easy to fall into an isolated world. Everything does not seem as bright and exciting as they were before. The annoying thing about it is I have no idea what makes me feel this way. It is like I sink into a deep coma without being able to wake up. I am 21 and I never want my life will end up being boring and useless. It is the last thing on Earth I want but then I have no idea how to get out of it. There are so many unexpected thing happening. I am in many levels of emotions: fear, anger, insecurity, etc. There is no more excitement or happiness.

I’m tired.

I’m in a dark room. No fresh air. No sunlight.

I don’t know how to be cheerful again.


I was about to read a book before going to sleep. I have my day off tomorrow. I’ve been reading half of that book then I did not feel so enthusiastic to finish it.

It’s a Bach’s playlist on now. Nice.

Growing up is a tiring process. It requires too much effort. How I miss the summer nights I was lying in a hammock out the balcony, enjoying the cold breeze and listening to some pieces of music. I was totally free and relaxed. There was no worry. There was no stress. I felt like I was the happiest person in the world. I had a family. I was in the house, safe and sound and there would be no one or nothing could harm me.

How long has it since I had that feeling for the last time? I do not remember. I can’t.

I take everything in life as it comes. Life, to me, is always full of surprises. Things will not happen the way we expect. I try to be optimistic. I try to look at the bright side of things. But then growing up means you know about the dark sides of things too and you may get disappointed. It is like finding out that your childhood hero is actually just an ordinary man or the princesses you used to adore when you was a little girl are actually not as perfect as you thought they were.

Then what are we supposed to do? Cry? Scream out? Run away from the reality? No, we can’t do that. Why? Because there is so much to do in life than just wasting your time complaining about things and being blue. And even if things do not get better, keep trying. Try until the day they get better. Even if there is no one beside you to tell you that everything will be ok, tell yourself that everything will definitely be ok as long as you are alive.



I had a job interview today, working part time as a staff member in a food and beverage store. On the way home, I went shopping and bought a glitter lamp. It is an amazing thing. Beautiful. Sparkly. It has a tube with liquid inside and when I turn the light on, the small glittery pieces move up and down in that liquid, making an incredible kind of light in the wall around it. It brings me back to my childhood. I always love sparkly things. I dreamed that when I grew up, I would live in a house with walls made of colorful stained glass. I love the world of colors. The lamp was put next to my perfume bottles. Those bottles look like a group of beautiful girls performing in the stage, which is lightened by a magic lamp. They are all quiet and concentrated on their roles. They shine in all different ways. Elegant and somehow classy. This moment is great. I can lie here and watch them forever. It is a wonderful world, right here, in my very own room.

It is happiness, isn’t it?

Yes, it is.

Yes, I found a little happiness right here, in little things that I enjoy.

A glitter lamp. A table with my perfume bottles and lipsticks and earrings and hair brushes, etc all over on it.  A picture I haven’t finished drawing. New pajamas I am wearing on me. A quiet night with good music.

Then a good book.

It is getting cold now. But I know I am safe and sound in my room with my bed and my cozy blanket and all the familiar things in here. I am here, alone. But I do not feel lonely.

I know that someday I’ll have someone being with me to talk to every night.

I know that love is becoming more rare and expensive but one day I’ll be loved truly, deeply, madly.

I know that even though sometimes I seem to be lost in this world, the light in my heart will always guide me home.

And I wish I could be like the glitter lamp, always shine beautifully even in the darkest night.

Golden glitter



“Sadness does not turn your world black and white; it leaves you standing naked on an iceberg with tangles in your hair and the world too bright for your eyes.

Worry sets in that someone will notice but everyone is too busy watching for their own Titanic.There is nothing quiet about it, except maybe the holes it makes inside of you and even those seem to whistle on windy days. The world yells at you with muffed voices as if you’re standing in a labyrinth of glass walls and somehow you’ve forgotten a hammer.

It turns you into a series of nouns, without the adjectives and without the verbs. You don’t remember where you misplaced your descriptions, your actions (under the sink with your emotions and Mr.Clean). You become:







You’ll see others stripped bare like you but it won’t matter – they can’t save you. All you can do is lower yourself gently into the swirling water and tell yourself to hold on tight.





Kelsey Danielle – “I swam to the other side and back again“.




i really want to sleep with


not sex, just sleep

i want to curl up, legs and

arms a tangled mess, the

sound of their breathing singing

me to sleep, their hands

caressing me, awakening

in the early hours of the morning

because they moved slightly

and my body noticed their cold absence

cuddling up & sleeping peacefully

waking up to the sun coming

through the curtains and lighting

up their sleepy eyes

yawny kisses and warm hugs

i want it all




Just like heaven

I know it now. I know that there’s another form of love. There’s no commitment. There are no promises. There are no dates or coffees or movies. But there are endless conversations. There is truth or dare game that keeps us stay up late till 3 o’clock in the morning. There is a long list of things we want to do when we meet each other. There are amusing jokes that make me laugh until my stomach hurts. That kind of love was made up by little things I could never name. And when it ends, suddenly and unexpectedly, I felt like I just lost something precious. Something in my mind has been stolen. Something made me utterly silent. Something broke my heart a little when I saw the texts he sent me in the middle of the night or when I saw photos of him that I secretly took when we Skype on my phone. I don’t want to delete those photos. I don’t want to delete his contact number even though I know we may never talk again. I still want to keep everything related to him because they remind me of the happy time we spent together.

“Show me how you do that trick

The one that makes me scream?”, he said

“The one that makes me laugh”, he said

And threw his arms around my neck


Show me how you do it

And I promise you

I promise that I’ll run away with you

I’ll run away with you

tumblr_mn0r9xdFor1rwadubo1_500But there was something, wasn’t it? There must be something that made you want to drive a long way to see me that night. There was something to keep us awake to talk to each other. There was something to keep me excited the whole week when I knew you’d come up to see me on your day off. I still remember all the details about you. I still remember when you told me that I’m beautiful, attractive, worth dying to have, etc. I love it when you made me laugh and I also love it when I made you smile with my silly jokes. I know you didn’t lie to me. We do like each other, don’t we? It’s just because we met in a wrong time when we were stuck and for some reasons, you can’t come to me freely.

“Why are you so far away?”, he said

“Why won’t you ever know

That I’m in love with you

That I’m in love with you?”


You, soft and only

You, lost and lonely

You, strange as angels

Dancing in the deepest oceans

Twisting in the water

You’re just like a dream

You’re just like a dream


Daylight licked me into shape

I must have been asleep for days

And moving my lips to breathe his name

I opened up my eyes


And found myself alone alone

Alone above a ranging sea

That stole the only boy I loved

And drowned him deep inside of me

I miss the late night talks, the jokes, the laughter, the surprises, the trials, the triumphs, and most importantly, I miss you. I miss everything about us. It wasn’t perfect but it was ours.

You, soft and only

You, lost and lonely

You, just like heaven

I remember in a movie, they used to say this: “Some people are meant to fall in love with each other but not mean to be together”. Those people could be us. I miss you R. I really do. And even if we never meet again, I always want you to be happy…





The People You Will Fall In Love With In Your 20s

“You will fall in love with smells, the good and the bad kind. You will want to wear your lovers shirt because it makes you feel close to them and you’re okay with being that PSYCHO who is legitimately sniffing their shirt in public. You will fall in love with sweat, certain perfumes, the smell of the season in which you fell in love. This particular love smells like fall. It smells like Halloween and a roaring fire and leaves and fog and mist and candy and food and family and whiskey and sex and the lint that collects on sweaters. When it ends, if it ends, you will never experience another fall without thinking of him, her, it. The memories will stick to the ground like a mound of leaves and will only dissipate when the weather drops.”
And I remember the smell of his shirts, of his embraces and all the kisses we gave each other… I remember the smell of nights we spent together. I remember the feeling of touching his rough hands. I remember everything about him… Does it mean I used to love him? And do I still love him until now? I don’t know but this is true, so true…

Thought Catalog

You will fall in love with someone who annoys you, whose orgasm face looks and feels pathetic. Despite all of this, there’s something keeping you drawn to them, something that makes you want to protect them from the harsh world. What you fail to realize, however, is that you are the harsh world. You aren’t their noble protector — you are someone to be protected from but it takes a lot of dates, a lot of nights where you question whether or not you are actually a good person, for this to ever resonate with you. When it’s over and whatever love is left is put back in the fridge like a sad plate of leftovers, you will finally understand that you have the power to hurt someone. You can either hurt them or love them and it’s up to you to decide what kind of role you would like…

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Words that don’t exist in the English language

1. l’esprit de escalier: (French) The feeling you got after leaving a conversation , when you think of all the things you should have said. Translated it means “the spirit of the staircase.”


2. waldeinsamkeit: (German) The feeling of being alone in the woods.


3. meraki: (Greek) Doing something with soul, creativity, or love.


4. forelsket: (Norwegian) The euphoria you experience when you are first falling in love.


5. cualacino: (Italian) The mark left on a table by a cold glass.

6. saudade: (Portuguese, Galician) The feeling one gets when realizing something one once has it lost and can never be had again.




I barely know you, she says, voice heavy with sleep. I don’t know your favorite color or how you like your coffee. What keeps you up at night or the lullabies that sing you to sleep. I don’t know a thing about the first girl you loved, why you stopped loving her or why you still do. I don’t know how many millions of cells you are made of and if they have any idea they are part of something so beautiful and unimaginably perfect.

I may not have a clue about any of these things but this — she places her hand on his chest — this, I know.

Lang Leav