(According to my dictionary and I do not care about the other's)
I've got to tell you how sick my day went. I played soccer earlier this morning and I scored one goal. ONE GOAL.
I stood on my tip toe and praise the unusual pride I've collect today. This was my first match after the last game I could recall when I was nine or ten year old. So you'd sure understand how I felt really good about a moment of glory.
And second, I went to the airport.
This wasn't the ordinary, "I went to the airport because someone is leaving" kind of thing. I went to the airport because I just felt like it. And I am very grateful to god for giving me a chance to hang out with one of the coolest kids in the entire world. Karin, Ryan and Upal were tha bomb of tha day. I've got to tell you a secret, I have been wanting to do this on my birthday. But as a wise and odd proverbs from Paris Hilton, We've got to live like everyday is our birthday. Present never expired. They didn't know I want this. But they gave me one of the day I wanted to have. Gas station. I tried on a children dress (for 11 year old) on the airport's department store. We took shuttle from Terminal 1 - 3. Went to the waving... waving whatever it called. Fuck yeah I had fun.
I know eyes bored to deal with details, so I am going to make this short as possible.
You've got to listen this carefully. I have the days I wanted back on my grip.
- Harry Potter was my first sparks for falling in love with Britain in 2001. Including the almighty British accent.
- Red hair guy looks way more attractive in this movie.
- Ron has this indescribable sex appeal that pulled me every time he talked in British accent. And somehow in a split second, it makes me wanted to go and marry him.
- The tension between Ron and Hermione was wow. As well as Hermione and Harry and Ron. Just in a slight difference section.
- For a while, or maybe way longer than a while, I really wish Harry Potter's world does exist.
"We're never going to be as young as we are tonight"
This week went fast alright. Alright for books intensity, you know. I found new places for quick silence during the day. I slept in order by night. No more midnight eye hunger. The only thing I hardly get this week was my productivity on writing. This blog for example. Don't get me wrong, I've been wandering around this page since yesterday but as soon I clicked, I couldn't get things right to write. I kept thinking that, IF I wrote anything about my day, nobody would give a fcuk. Becase that's just how human do it. Very basic, impulsive, selfish human. There may few people really do care about the stories we've told by their ears, but most of them were not. I could feel it through the eyes.
Eyes could tell everything. The unseen. The untold. Secrets. Even things that you thought never existed.
Believe me, I've just seen it. Someone just reminds me how to look by the eyes.
And uh, It's November, everybody. November.
It's late here but I'm sure somewhere on the other part of the world, sun still shining too bright till the pupils shrink.
Things are changed here, slowly but sure. For the first time after a long while, I started to enjoy rain. I used to hate rain with all my heart.
But I never know, what I loved also happens to have the chance for changed. I thought things will stay until I told them to leave, but I was wrong. Well, street stays, building stays, and memories stay. I couldn't dictate my memories to hide under my bed or inside the dusty box at the attic and stop reminding me over and over again to a few things. Memories that not once but thousands of times dragging me down - both in a good and bad way.
Do you know that I thought August barely starts?
I thought those late food and long midnight drive were just yesterday.
I thought someday was still long enough to wait, so I don't have to be worried. Worried to death like today.
September came too soon. Too soon I can't even think.
September was unbelievable.
I got introduce to a lot of things in September.
September occupied my mind excessively.
That night, my brain was running out of oxygen because the thoughts were slowly burning, looking for the best way out then seeking for the possible gap to climb up and breathe in once, deep and secure.
That never happened to me until that night.
but I'll tell you something, you just never know that someday might be arrived very, very soon.
But you know, it'll come back. Soon enough.
Those questions I collect didn't leave without answers. Slowly but sure days had given me answer through any kind of messenger. Most of them were people that strangely I constantly met on weekdays. Older people who, maybe, had been through the phase where my questions lies and a good friend of mine that almost lost on my contact list, who has almost as wise as the the adults.
I watched few movies that nudged me about coincidence, destiny and things. and when I mean things, I meant the word that too sacred to be mentioned, nonetheless very... cheesy.
"Destiny can't build alone. You still need to show up, you still have to build the bridge, a bridge to someone you love."
I guess I've got seriously serious issues.
one day my English teacher told me to write a paragraph of my worst story. I ended up scrolling the innocent paper with few times barbarian scratch and keep brain storming what would I write. I wasn't the typical person that remember anything that related to disappointment - including anything worse. But then after forty five minutes doing nothing and one simple entrance, I came up with this:
My Worst Story
I felt worst when I came up to the sober point when I admit myself that I was in love.
The idea of love itself would changed by the time going, maybe when we all grown up soon, love would looked better than today.
When I was eight, maybe I thought love was when a boy shared his lunch with me.
When I was thirteen or fourteen, I thought love was a happy feeling that wrapped me when the person was around.
But I realized things as I got here, my perspective developed into something new,
love was something more than that.
I felt worst when I was in love with someone – the feeling of not wanting time to end or even for the clock to ticks a second forward, hoping it could last forever, in that moment. The feeling of unbearable subjection, or had been trying to resist the charm over and over again.
Those things compiled to one, and became the worst.
I suppose, that was my worst story,
and I didn’t even bother to try to get rid of it.