By the time I made the draft of this writing, I was in train to Jakarta. My iTouch played ‘You Don’t Know Me’ by Ray Charles. It was quite sad. The train was so quite and still. And there I was, sitting by the corner and kept questioning ‘Is it that hard to be in love? How could it be?’
Now the song changed into ‘Heart of Gold’ by Neil Young. So easy to get crush on somebody, yet in a speed of glance, it’s over. Not yet to blossom, caused by some hurtful details that could destroy the whole imagination of future love.
Keep stumbling! Keep stumbling!
Doesn’t everyone have love that need to be given? So how if that kind of love cannot be transmitted to another one you want to? The only thing I could do to get over the process of love transmitting is keep myself busy.
Ain’t I loved enough? Is it because this brain or this awkward appearance?
Perhaps this is karma, possibly maybe.
I hurt, and in the end, at the right time, I am hurt. And then what happened to one who hurt me once? He seems fine, loved, and natural.
All those stories on me, are all the same: it’s me who started it. When someone wanted to start it, I don’t want him to.
What is it with requited love? Requited love for me is when gravity pulls both of the lover to each other.
But it’s just to utopic, just like Marx’s theory. There never comes a day so. I’m tired in waiting, for waiting is all I’ve been doing right from the start.