My Hands Were Full On A Second To Waste

I remembered weeks ago, in my small bedroom back in Jakarta, I wrote my heart out. Knowing one thing only; I had to write this down because my heart could not handle, not even another two minutes, enormous feeling towards one normal human being. Today, as I wrote this post, I know, that post would not be on the first page anymore. I shoved it, politely and unintentionally, somewhere else. That easy. 

Unlike when I wrote the secret's out, I was no longer in my apartment -- I sat here alone, sixteen hours flight away from home. Busy building whatever its worth out of what I have now and without knowing anything certain about past, distance and all the other things in between. Perhaps just busy getting wasted.


Life in overall, is too complex. Everything is complex when you live hand in hand with hundred thousands different open minds. The only thing that isn't, is now. I know exactly I am happy with where I am, who I'm with, what I wear, what I drink, what I did last weekend and where I sleep. And even though some of the aspects lies within the complexity, I will always believe, everything  will become a part of now, sometime in the future, where I just know I am one hundred percent certain.