Rabu, 20 Januari 2016


We knew a famous quote,

"take one, or get nothing"


I got both. I got the darkness and the stars. They are mine and will always be.

Strangers on the street. Was that me?

August 30, 2015.

I oppressively woke up with the anger. It wasn't becuase sleeplessness. The whole dreams I dreamed last night did tremendously torture me. In my dream I was throwing stuffs towards the wall, screaming, going under. I cried loudly. It was indeed not drama.

What did just happen to me? I don't know. 

Spontaneously I come back to an old conversation. "A dream is not just a dream. It is our fear, deputes our unspoken words, paints our hopes, and tells us what we truly want."

I sigh.

Last time I dreamed the similar one was a year back. Figure I loved once faded away and I was screaming badly and yelling in my dream. The day after, I told him and he cried. He cried because I cried. I cried because of him.

"Not again. Not again. Please"

I told to myself. I don't wanna lose anyone again this time. 

Like an entire ages forcing myself to move from sadistic feeling, I started arranging my plan today. Drawing, painting, singing, anything. But the only thing I can feel is just an emptiness.

Got to pray, and it comforted me for a while. Those dreams haunt me back further like they have no excuse to stay away from me. 

"I need to go outside"

So I just grabbed my things, a book, take a tram. Put the earphones on and keep the song playing itself until someone came approaching me. A 40s old guy whom I don't know dropped me a chocolate, caramel candies, and juice. I was just staring at the candies and being stoned with no word could I speak out. He kept handing me candies until I realized everyone watched him doing that. I switched off my iPod and asked him why he gave me those and simply he answered me that he found my swollen eyes about to cry. He just wanted to cheer me up. Don't know what to say. I even didn't have any chance to thank him since he got down before me. I walked out at the next station with my hands full with candies like a daughter got to be lured by her dad. I was thinking to throw them but I cancel it. I think if that person would harm ne, he would follow me and not disappear like that. (anyway I ate the chocolate already and thank God nothing is happening).

Keep walking until the bus stop and waiting for the bus driving me to the next stop. stepped down close to the biggest lake in town and my eyes hoped for shaded trees bench. Come across the lake, exactly on the centre of the street behind the trees I found my place. Again I turned the iPod on and instrumental songs were randomly played. Middle aged man sat beside me with his left hand wrapped in a cast -bike accident I guess-, wore his daily broken white t-shirt and knee-length short. Alone.

Seems it is very often in Germany, old people sitting alone in a public area here in artificial lake, sometimes they make a quality time with the birds surround here. 

Alone is not necessarily bad especially in Europe. We find more people traveling from one city to another alone. That's why I love Europe. i can do anything by myself without any intervention.

First thing I do was just watching strangers passing me by again and again. Blonde girl with red color lipstick, cowboy hat, some of them only 'covered'  by bikini, old couple holding hands and made me suddenly remember my parents, boys with their skateboard, some people riding their bike, etcetra etcetra. 

Yiruma's songs reverberated on my ears. Scheiss I still remember the shitty dreams. Started reading my book, titled 'Girls on the train'. Page by page I am turning, marking the good words or sentences or even paragraphs. Too mushy I become today. Every single thing is kinda conspiring on me. I don't know why somehow I find myself written properly in this novel. 

In every 5 minutes I couldn't help myself to not look at this middle aged man. A grandpa I can say. I got his loneliness right in the eyes. Yes, even he didn't say a word. Sometimes he stroke his plastered hand. If only I could freeze his face with my camera, I would swim into his story through his eyes. 

An hour has passed. On my right hand side people come and go. But this lonely man (sorry for labeling him) sat still in silent here right beside me...

"Let it be, old man.."