the longest way run is the shortest way home

dear daisy,

i used to write a lot at nocturnal, it is always my favorite time for writing, as carl bernstein put it: the best time to work (he was once married to nora ephron, my favorite screen writer for many rom coms: which made me think that he appreciated wit and camaraderie in love tales. eversince i wrote ulysses pact in 2013 to return home and mend things, i really had  a long pause.

i want to write about the longest way run, hopes and long for home from my encounter with joyce, murakami and ishiguro writings, colorless myrasya and years of pilgrimage, and stupid things i talked to myself while i was running and thinking of escaping.

clearly, i dont have the niche to write tonight, everything i had in mind was in my notebook and string of letters.

i miss daisy, i long for her in my dreams.

so long and good night.

  

of a lime

my story, of limes and love for my dad

i always placed the limes in a blue bucket at the school department, with a handwritten note inviting everyone to take some of my dad's luscious limes from his garden that bursts into lives. in the card, i always wrote: that when life throws you limes, make cakes or juice.

to me this was never a simple act of generosity, but an ode to my dad's kindness and love: for sharing means caring, so rather than seeing the limes wasted (for we always had abundance) i brought them to school.

i also acknowledged them of my dad's effort in producing organic, seedless limes which is very unique and not available in the market (but in that blue basket).

it is always beautiful day at home, and my favorite have always been the smell of freshly cut grass (after the rain). gardening is dad's passion. i dont think that i could do it, for i may not have the green hands.

a wise lady once told me that a gardener makes a great lover (it was andy's mom actually). a gardener will grow your heart with flowers and love, tend them with great patience and passion. unlike writers, they always keeping score and melancholic all the time.

when dad was away for holiday, he kept reminding me by phone or text to water his trees twice a day, which often fell to deaf ears, as i always busy with other things and forgotten about the task. i told him that was an unexpected virtue of ignorance, whenever he brought up the cases of my laziness and ignorance.

he never wants to let his garden goes into ruin that he always watering them almost every morning and evening, he also hires a gardener to cut grasses at every forthnight.

seeing the trees bear their fruits, it never fail to lift my spirit, i love you dad.

long way down - goo goo dolls

background song: goo goo dolls, become.

in a nutella shell, lie is an act of creative imagination - of a complex act, hardwired diversion from the truth.

you're charmingly naive if you believe everything from this  blog,  bloggers are like politicians, scam artists and zealots - known as the 'designers of reality'.

dr who experience - the girl who waited, almost astronaut, the wedding of the doctor and angels take manhattan: are in my long list of tear-jerking  episodes that i love to watch over and over again. i just love amy and rory together... can't remember how bad i cried when amy chose to be with rory after he disappeared and sent back to the past by the weeping angel. it was the most romantic episode after a good man goes to war, where rory waited for amy for 2000 years.

 although certain things were unrealistic and pretty dumb - they are good enough to remind myself that stupidity, good laugh are the best - at the end of the day after a long hard day at work. 

the thermodynamics of love

dear daisy,
new semester begin today, and my only disappointment is i may not be able to enjoy my late coming to work after this due to difficulty of finding a parking space. i enjoyed having breakfast at home, watching my nephew in the morning getting ready to school - with a lot of drama, running on a mill and watch or read news.

my sister and her family are leaving next week..... i don't know how to react accordingly, because it will be the first time for me to send off my beloved sister, her husband and kids abroad. the feeling is different, because i was always the one who left, with dreams and frustrations, longed to return with success and love.  to amend things and make up the loss time.  sometimes, circumstances will not allow me to reach out to people that i care and love, time may transform feeling and close heart off any gesture of solidarity and comfort. at such time,  despite grief and sadness, i seek prayers to the Highest order to convey my love and care to those i spare in thought.

i never thought that the feeling of letting my sister and her family go is so painful, that i imagine myself in a brink of collapse. i will miss the joy and laughter  awaiting me at the door every time i come back from work. there will be no more feeding fishes and tortoises at cyberjaya, no more tease on my braces and no more knocks at my door in morning when i prefer to tuck in bed and shut myself.

i never thought that leaving and staying would have different meanings. especially after losing so many people that i love in this year alone.

this remind me of a story, of a rose who always dream day and night about bees, but no bee ever landed in her petals.  she continued to dream on long nights, of heaven full of bees, bestowed fond kiss to the petals. her dreams keep her going on days and open up to the glorious ray of sunshine.

one night, the moon, who  knew of the rose's loneliness asked if she isn't tired of waiting.

the rose answered, that she has to possibly trying and keep remaining open.  otherwise she will perish and fade away.

and a lot of times, when loneliness seems to crush all beauties, the only option to resist is to remain open.

hopefully the energy of love will help to transform the man, reaching its end where circumstances seem possible for us to reach them.

Chuck Palahniuk, Fight Club

“You know how they say you only hurt the ones you love? Well, it works both ways.” 
― Chuck Palahniuk, Fight Club

“I am Jack's complete lack of surprise. I am Jack's Broken Heart.” 
― Chuck Palahniuk, Fight Club

“How everything you ever love will reject you or die. Everything you ever create will be thrown away. Everything you're proud of will end up as trash. ” 
― Chuck Palahniuk, Fight Club

“Without pain, without sacrifice we would have nothing. Like the first monkey shot into space.” 
― Chuck Palahniuk, Fight Club

We’ve all been raised on television to believe that one day we’d all be millionaires, and movie gods, and rock stars. But we won’t. And we’re slowly learning that fact. And we’re very, very pissed off.” 
― Chuck Palahniuk, Fight Club

“That old saying, about how you always kill the thing you love, well, it works both ways. And it does work both ways.” 
― Chuck Palahniuk, Fight Club

.........................................

Light will guide you home, and ignite your soul

Think you’re escaping and run into yourself. Longest way round is the shortest way home. - James Joyce.

Seems to me people are always searching for second chances and ways to start over new. It’s gotten to a point where some people go under the knife to revert the consequences of a night or several they no longer want to remember. Other change their postal codes searching for an escape. But is there really a real way to reboot your universe?

And what is suicide then, if not just another road to a possible escapism.

In a world so filled with pain and regrets, why haven’t we come up with a way to build ourselves up brand new and ready to live and love again? Is it wrong for me to believe that I have a chance to try again?

I want to believe I will regain my figure again.

I want to believe I will find peace again.

I want to believe I will find love again.

I want to believe I will find a way to forgive again.

Lately all I’ve been looking forward is tomorrow, and so everyday. We are always waiting for something. We are waiting for Friday every week. For a birthday, for the summer all year long. Until one day we wake up, having missed our life, having let it pass by while waiting for something. An illusion for a better time. For a better life.

Whatever happened to the idea of living each day as your last? Seeing a reason for everything that happens? Believing in purpose for all the pain we undergo. After all, timing is everything. So why can’t it be applied to escapes?

Is believing that moving away will give us a chance to start over is just as silly as turning to God when everything goes wrong? Silly not in a way that is judged. But just an obvious consolation for our hopeless state?

Is it too much to hope that after all this running we can finally come back home?