No One Is Sane


How…
could you cover the sky?
As it was born too beyond.
Would you drink the sea till it’s dried dead?
Dare you…? Even to imagine?
And, ought you leave the earth, 
how far could you begone? While alive?

I want…
to put you simply as what they are.
Oh, my heartful universe.
You’re always more, 
and I’m most insatiable, 
About you, everything is vicious gravity.

You…
my forevermore desire.
When you look at me,
Please never bother to question
if I am sane enough to love.

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Cause from the sunful start,
to the most lunatic end…
No one is. No one will.

 

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The Scent of This Morning

This morning smells so tender and baby-good.
I recognize lemon and some fresh leaves.
Probably basil, or honeysuckle.
Largo al Factotum is playing in my head!

Figaro! Figaro!

Holy whimsical, it makes a warning!
“Don’t bother to resist, it’s a beautiful chance.”

“Crazy!” I whisper to myself.
I missed all of these because of…
… of what?

My shortcomings?
Blantant disagreement?
No idea, like aforementioned… it’s loony!

Oh! Oh!
And a breakfast with some papaya and a granny smith apple,
I can’t say it’s not becoming. Eh?

Now.
Let’s brood, about this comely morning.
The dulcent smell. The bubbly atmosphere.
Erstwhile, just for a while. Why?

It reminds me to learn about forbearance.
How to face imbroglio. Yap!
Can I agree more?

Yes!
It’s actually Sandalwood.
The scent of this morning.
Summery redolent I suppose…
Might be an umbrella to these cries of silliness.

“Hello, morning!” I screamed.

And the morning replied with a gentle touch of lovely wind.

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The Urge to Write

After some periods of not writing freely, like without boundaries.

I just want to do it now, I don’t know what to write.

But I want to be free.

 

My work requires me to write, but there are rules, guides, dos and don’ts.

And hell, and heaven… I just want to be free!

So, here I go jumping to the path of freedom.

 

It’s like wanting to pee.

It’s like it’s biologically alarmed, so… I need do it now.

So I write about it, the urge to write.

 

I’m sure it won’t be good.

It will be meaningless, but here it is.

My writing’s done because I just want to pour it.

 

Done, I’m free!

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How Would I Live Alone In The Future?

Until now, there’re these questions I couldn’t ensure myself to answer.

“What’re you going to do when you’re old?”

“Are you going to get married?”

“Living in some fancy big house?”

“How are you going to live? From the saving you made?”

“How are you going to live in the future by yourself?”

I have no idea. None.

Honestly, I don’t know if I’m going to get married. There, it automatically kills the idea of having children. Evenless, grandchildren. However, I’ve this vision. That puts my heart and mind in peace despite of all the ingnorances flagging in my soul.

I’ll be sitting in a nice comfy wooden chair, it shouldn’t be neccessarily a rockery. Just a chair that doesn’t exhaust my hip and back is enough. I also can see the room I’ll be in, it’s not too bright, but it’s not too dark neither. It’s shady. The air is glowing with the smell of lemongrass, basil and some sort of flowers I don’t recognize. It’s crisp, it’s like the air near a waterfall. The atmosphere is like in the forest after a small rain. It’s calm, serene, daring, mysterious, mesmerizing and divine. I adore it, it’s like looking right through the eyes of the person I love for this first time. I’m going to enjoy it.

Then there will be these big and small bookshelves placed in the room, full of books. I’m going to have all the books I’ve always wanted to read!!! Books from all around the world. German, India, Palestine, Sweden, France, everywhere. And I’ll be reading them to spend my time, and by the time I get bored, I’ll watch movies. Or write my own story. Or draw the characters that always hauntingly popping out in my head. I’m gonna make them noticed by the world through the story I’ll make. They’ll be popular. Famous and infamous. Well, some of them are not that protagonist, I must admit.

Yes, that’s what I can say about how I would live in the future. I’m going to have all the books I’ve always wanted to read, and I’ll have the time for all of them!!! We’re going to be a good family, living In that forest near a waterfall. I’m gonna spend my old body like that I guess, not forgetting that I’ll have my favorite tea mixed with honey or chamomile or lemon or lavendar or else, anytime I’ll like them to come. I’ll also have all the fruit and vegetables I love. That’s perfect.

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Yes, that’s how. I can imagine, the life I’m going to live in the future.

Even though I’ll be alone (hopefully not). 

I still can enjoy the life by myself.

It’ll still be a happy ending.

My very own kind of happy ending.

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Once Upon A Childhood Times

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We’re all believers.

Once.

Of beautiful things, of magical dreams.

Until the truth broke us. Oh yes, that hateful truth.

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We used to believe in miracles.

Of fairies, of angels, of balloons.

Of so many things we fear to take a faith in now.

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Fear that we’ll become a fool to believe again.

How nostalgic, how bittersweet.

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We used to believe in happy endings and happily ever after.

Oh how the past tense feels so wicked.

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Once upon a childhood times.

We believe that there’re so many worlds to explore.

We’re adventurous. We wanted to find out.

But when we grow up. We fear.

What exactly we’re afraid of?

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Let’s wonder. 

Why we have to grow up?

If it means we have to stop dreaming.

About the impossible to come true?

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Can we fly?

Can we cast fire to melt ice?

Can we bring light in the dark?

Or… does anyone still believe that we can,

somehow heal people who get hurt?

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Once.

Can we go back?

And make it twice?

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Let’s wonder.

And don’t lose the faith that we can.

And believe that we can save the world.

And love forever.

And be happy.

No matter.

Whatever.

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