Personal Literature

Delirium from Pastland

I feel that I can little bit understand her.
Well not the whole her. Just a bit. And it seems like … Maybe I’m the one who didn’t understand or maybe I’m too deep being tied up in the undertow.

I haven’t talk to her properly – yet. So many thoughts … I think that she as confused as me. She also doesn’t know what to do or how to deal with kid like me.

Also as well as her too … Both of us has a trait such as … ‘Always remember the pain especially made by other people’

Me always remember the feeling .. The wording .. The pain … Those didn’t go anywhere … Remain the same.

But we’re generous in forgiving people. I’m faster than her I guess. But that’s us. Well since she didn’t know (or she knew me already)…
I dunno.

But well seems also like I can feel her … But then …
The more people getting older … The more they will act like kids, won’t they?
And … How to say it … This matter called ‘f.a.m’ always mattered a lot.

And here we goes. Why don’t I just get the ordinary one? Then Allah may say, ‘because you’re extraordinary, dear’

and indeed … I just don’t get it yet….what kind of lesson God wants me to learn, from this over and over and over problems which they’re involved. I might fine to handle ‘the outside’ matter … But ‘the inside’ never ends.

How hard and sometimes mean she was.
I know she just delivered the love messages in a different language for me.
And she’s also the one and the most I want to get  the acknowledgement. At least I tried to make her proud of me and feel that it’s worth, there’s no meaningless for stand by me all this time.

And I still love her. I still love them.

__Delirium from years ago__


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