Not lonely alone

Loneliness..oh, just don't tell me about it. "Human beings can withstand a week without water, two weeks without food, many years of homelessness, but not loneliness. It is the worst of all tortures, and the worst of all sufferings"*. I'm not alone in loneliness, I know.

Loneliness that can become your comfort zone, because you've been just so hardly trying to adapt when you were obliged to live it...just day by day. When you sit at your living room, wishing someone -you love- come in with a cup of tea and share a movie with you..or when all you look forward to is a morning telephone call saying good morning and asking how do you do, when you go out with all your couples friends and go home sleep alone in our cold bed and cry instead of sleep, when you keep worrying about your looks, your wardrobe, your new -not apparent- issue on your face, your half kilo loss or gain in your body, just because you're focusing your energy on yourself only, when you convince yourself that you need no one and that you're better off alone, it's when your surrounded by so many who love you, yet feeling into your seperate shell. That's the same shell that became so hard for anyone to break down and enter.

* Phrase between inverted commas is from "11 minutes" by Paulo Coelho

Who are you?

I saw you but it was like after midnight. I was not sure if it's the darkness around that is hindering me from seeing you, or is it you who was disguised in darkness!

I stood and stared too long, almost from "Hi" to "Bye", my mind was starring at you. I asked "How are you?" when by the end of the day I thought to myself I should have asked "Who are you?" instead.

Yet, I can't be sure enough to conclude whether it was you or me who changed? or is it the both of us? or is it just life and the things we went through?

Who are you? please answer me. You're not the one I used to know, you're not the one I loved. Have I been in love with someone who doesn't exist anymore? Or someone who have never existed in the very first place except in my angelic imaginations.

...and is it true? the person I see now? or is it another output of my mixed up inner storms? or is it the person I imagine you to be to find a reason why I have to let go? or is it not as bad as I see because it's just away from what I desired and expected? or what really is it?

Would you?

Would you listen to my feelings and urges rather than my words when I talk to you?

Would you hold my hands and stroke my senses without taking my permission?

Would you open your arms for me, and embrace me with all the tenderness I know you have?

Would you see what's good in me, show me what's good around and what's good in you?

Would you tell me it's forever and that you'll never let me go?

Would you call every night before you sleep because you like to hear my voice last thing in night?

Would you look into my eyes and let the two rivers of thoughts unite? Yours and mine..

Would you escort me to your inner hidden areas; the spots you don't let anyone in?

Would you surprise me one day and do something happily unexpected?

Would you distinguish me from the other people you know and show it?

Would you treat me like a lady and let me treat you like a man?

Would you point at me infront of your friends and show me to the whole world?

Would you give me authority to support you whenever you need it?

Would you show me how would you like to be loved and spoiled?

Would you remind me every now and then that it's me and only?

Would you let me put on the wings I've got to be the person I've always dreamt to be?

Would you come to me wherever I am just because you miss me and can't wait longer to meet?

Would you get it from my eyes and not wait till I confess what is it that I really want?

At the blue cafe

The words kept running across their minds
Just like how their soup was mixed up in the bowel in front of them
Yes, it was one bowel…they decided to eat it together with the sweet and sour taste it brings

They couldn’t really catch a snap shot for what they truly wanted
Like people who lost their way to heaven
Or those who lost their way in hell
Or even those who were lost wondering…
If they’re the ones who know or the ones who don’t care

Their wonders and their thoughts drifted them away
Away from the joy of the moment,
And away from the real moment of joy

Their words were still stuck at their throats
And their soup wasn’t getting any colder

A song was playing at the back of the scene
It moved them from they are, to where they would like to be
Or to a déjàvu that flashed back many buried memories…yet still hung dreams
Dreams that are portrayed and are decorating the walls of their hearts
The hearts that grew old when they were so young…yet still beating
Beating to live, but seldom it is living to beat


Their hands longed to touch,
Their bodies long to melt,
Their breaths longed to meet,
They missed intimacy, not in itself, but with each other

Their knocking calls were stuck at their throats
And their soup wasn’t getting any colder

Put on to each other a visionary gown of hopes
Perfectly simulated the roads to ends
Consciously established a code of excuses
With no promises to hold on to

In silence it was all shared
In public it was all noticed
In vein it was all claimed

Their hopes were stuck at their throats
And their soup wasn’t getting any colder
And it was all kept as their little secret, locked up at the blue cafe