memory
is a curious mystery
rarely it's based on truth
most often, it's a product of
our subjective perception
thus, become imagination
a little bit like future prediction
or present judgement
yet, however far it is from reality
it shapes us, change us
make us
feel.
like a surreal non-sense dream
when we wake up, we shiver
we smile
we wonder
we shed tears
some says that dreams has meaning
but even if a dream has a great means
it'll be lost if we don't wake up
reality is what matters
truth, is what we have to face, isn't it?
but what good is a truth for?
imagination creates happiness
hopes make us a better man
and lies keep life at peace
i'd rather accept my memory
bent and pretty
thus make someone special to me -like, you
more wonderful than you might be
however, truth is the cruel instruments of life
its nature is inescapable
and often, unexpected
stabbing backyour my happiness
crushingyour my hopes
stoppingyour my steps
disturbingyour my peace
proving that memories and assumptions
we had were wrong
assumption, like
you and i were meant to be
and most cruel thing it did,
that even if we acknowledge all truth
it'll still stab you, crush you, kill you
kill you half-dead and all hopes, memory, dreams killed by truth is a wound larger than any crate filled with boiled blood which smoke's covering all skies and lungs, choke you until you begged for your own death but it will not let you, instead its hot boiled air now scorching your chest, burn it through your skin as your pus evaporated, mixed with smokes, choke your neck harder, tighter as you lost any sight of light and still, you begged for your death, no, truth is not that merciful!
but actually, it is
the secret is to make peace
between your hope and truth
to make them love each other
accept each other's weaknesses
aware that some things they did
were in vain
may be when you compromise
the imagined memory
and the truth
you'll see
that nothing
not one
is in vain
you learn
that's what human
always do
that's why i want to learn
checking out and comparing my imagination
and your truth
just that
i don't have any wise words or
advice for you
you are always capable
you can handle everything just
fine without me
i think i've been just putting you to
misery that bothering you
but let me just bother you with one request
for help this time
because you got your happiness
but it's too late... for 7 years
too fucking late that i've fallen
to you and made your happiness
not my happiness
but it's not your fault, it's my problem
this happiness of yours, is actually
the help i need; the last stab through
the heart of my hope, that i hope could
put truth and memory at peace and love
and thus, opening possible future happiness
so let's talk about our truth and memory
and do some reality check
which i hope,
could add up to
your
memory
and
happiness
-bandung, 19-20 juni 2014 midsadnight
is a curious mystery
rarely it's based on truth
most often, it's a product of
our subjective perception
thus, become imagination
a little bit like future prediction
or present judgement
yet, however far it is from reality
it shapes us, change us
make us
feel.
like a surreal non-sense dream
when we wake up, we shiver
we smile
we wonder
we shed tears
some says that dreams has meaning
but even if a dream has a great means
it'll be lost if we don't wake up
reality is what matters
truth, is what we have to face, isn't it?
but what good is a truth for?
imagination creates happiness
hopes make us a better man
and lies keep life at peace
i'd rather accept my memory
bent and pretty
thus make someone special to me -like, you
more wonderful than you might be
however, truth is the cruel instruments of life
its nature is inescapable
and often, unexpected
stabbing back
crushing
stopping
disturbing
proving that memories and assumptions
we had were wrong
assumption, like
you and i were meant to be
and most cruel thing it did,
that even if we acknowledge all truth
it'll still stab you, crush you, kill you
kill you half-dead and all hopes, memory, dreams killed by truth is a wound larger than any crate filled with boiled blood which smoke's covering all skies and lungs, choke you until you begged for your own death but it will not let you, instead its hot boiled air now scorching your chest, burn it through your skin as your pus evaporated, mixed with smokes, choke your neck harder, tighter as you lost any sight of light and still, you begged for your death, no, truth is not that merciful!
but actually, it is
the secret is to make peace
between your hope and truth
to make them love each other
accept each other's weaknesses
aware that some things they did
were in vain
may be when you compromise
the imagined memory
and the truth
you'll see
that nothing
not one
is in vain
you learn
that's what human
always do
that's why i want to learn
checking out and comparing my imagination
and your truth
just that
i don't have any wise words or
advice for you
you are always capable
you can handle everything just
fine without me
i think i've been just putting you to
misery that bothering you
but let me just bother you with one request
for help this time
because you got your happiness
but it's too late... for 7 years
too fucking late that i've fallen
to you and made your happiness
not my happiness
but it's not your fault, it's my problem
this happiness of yours, is actually
the help i need; the last stab through
the heart of my hope, that i hope could
put truth and memory at peace and love
and thus, opening possible future happiness
so let's talk about our truth and memory
and do some reality check
which i hope,
could add up to
your
memory
and
happiness
-bandung, 19-20 juni 2014 midsadnight
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