Personal diction that comes unexpectedly, including poem, love letter, serries.
I am looking forward to the conspiracy from the Universe
One happenstance is enough, or may be two would be good
Thrice a row would strengthen the justification
That bumped into you is no longer my imagination
Remember when I imagine us roaming around the Modern Art Museum?
When you take a half-day work just for a cup of coffee?
Or maybe when we both captivated by the details of BlueDoor’s door?
Oh, I am dying to go there.
January 17th, 1996, was born a first daughter of the man who was captivated with Sicily, Italy. He was a big fan of ‘The Godfather’- a multi-generational crime film which has been voted as the greatest movie of all time and fictionally took a background in an Italian town, Corleone. No kidding, but you know, it is kinda interesting how her middle name came from. He thought about Sicily all the time, and just put ‘Cecilia’ as her middle name- instead of ‘Corleone’- which she thinks is more intriguing.
Frankly speaking she have not watched ‘The Godfather’ movie, so she could not talk much about it. However, plenty of her dating apps matches said, it has a good meaning, especially on family values- but she is sure, it is more than that. Well, at least what she found in Google when she hunt-and-pecked “What’s The Godfather teaches us” they said, it reflected several life lessons that worth to your life.
To be very specific, her father referred to La Cosa Nostra– Sicilian mafia syndicate, he expected her, will grow up with Cosa Nostra values- prideful and courageous. This year, she is turning into her 24 years, she grew up with a vision, even-tough sometimes she’s very pessimistic since she considers her logic and reality, as well as measures the consequences thoroughly. She’s perfectionist, even-though sometimes it makes her very insecure and questioning about her ability and capacity.
She’s a hard worker and will not give up on herself, she is quite adventurous and loves challenges, but she is too afraid to take any risks.
She’s a restless empath, she’s very sensitive in absorbing someone’s energy, she has a good filter mechanism within herself, she can tell this person is right or wrong, she relies on her intuitive. She really likes meeting new people and make new friend. She love to talk about the new things, everything that related to Philosophy, War and Peace, Milky way, Coffee, Youth Movement, even a tricky question like “Who should we blame between Tom and Summer?”- Come on, this doomed romance movie has been launched for more than 10 years and still being debatable until now.
She’s someone that you can rely on, since she will put you first. She’s a good listener, she will give you an unexpected advise (of course based on her logic) or spend time with you whenever you need her.
She thinks too much, she gets overthinking at night, she gets burnout easily but deep inside herself, she is a strong woman, sometimes she hold her tears and grief in silent.
She has not allowed herself to love herself yet. She has a trust issues with relationship and skeptical view about love. She may look cold and intimidating, but when she says she cares about you, she really does. She can’t lie to her feeling, but when she loves you, she tends to be denial, it is not because she is afraid to a commitment, but she hates rejection and uncertainties.
When she tells you that she is fine, take a deep look to her eyes, she may be lied at you, but at least, her eyes can’t lie.
I love her, from deep inside my heart. She is me and this manuscript reflects on what I see within my self.
Ps. During the pandemics where the situations limited my interactions with people directly and obligated me to stay at home, my overthinking gets worse, my body gives me a nerve response, from shaking until sweating. The glass had been broken and now, one of the ways to fix this was having a private session with my meditation instructor. I clearly remember his advice, one of the efforts to ease the overthinking is write something or write a love letter to yourself. So here it is, this post is dedicated to me.
There are rules, for loving me.
First, take me to Sicily, the largest island in sparkling Mediterranean sea that my father was dying to go.
The place that inspired my father to put ‘Cecilia’ as my middle name.
The gorgeous island that attracted Wolfgang Goethe personally, intellectually and spiritually. The key soul image of Italy where Mount Pallegrino- the most beautiful promontory on earth lies.
Forget about Sicily, darling, no need to take me to the hidden paradise that you have promised me, since being with you is a heaven for me.
Second, take me to the local coffee shop down the street that I usually visit on weekend, buy me a cup of japanese filter coffee with local beans from Sumatera or West Java. Ask the barista not to separate the ice cubes from the coffee, since it will melt fastly.
You can take me to Starbucks too on weekday at our break time or after office. Buy me a Venti Cup of Caramel Macchiato with an extra shots of coffee, no need to worry, darling I drink coffee on a daily basis.
Third, I love to roaming around a bookstore. Share me your pretentious ideas about new bestselling novels or take me to your deep conversation about your book genre. Buy me Philosophical books especially continental philosophy since I read Existentialism lately. Sartre and Camus are my favorite.
I also read Kundera, the Czech novelist who freely combined various literary genres. I started to read Kundera when my friend lend me “The Unbearable Lightness of Being” which his most popular book.
Oh don’t forget about mentioning Coelho, since “The Alchemist” being the first book I read. Remember one powerful phrase that Coelho write? “If you really want something, the whole universe conspires to help you”. Or may be you should read “By The River Piedra I sat Down and Wept”, the richly-poetic-love-story that Coelho wrote.
Fourth, I am not a picky person when it comes to food. Share me your ‘kerupuk’ if I don’t get an extra ‘kerupuk’ when we eat nasi goreng or others street foods. Buy me Mcdonald’s ice cream cone or cheetos when I have a bad mood. Trust me, it easily change my mood, you don’t need an extra efforts.
Fifth, I always wonder when there will be a man, who sing me “Marry Me by Train” while playing the guitar, on the rooftop with a million stars when we see the sky. Making me the luckiest girl on earth.
Regardless all above, please truly love me, accept me for who I really am, loving me in your simple way. Because after all, when it comes to love, I don’t care about rules, for loving me.
Hand me a daisy. It’s not because daisy is the symbol of “Innocence” nor “heartbroken lovers” as Shakespeare symbolized on Hamlet. When Shakespeare try to illustrate Ophelia’s madness after her father was murdered by Hamlet and she was torn.
Hand me a daisy, no need to hand me a bouquet of flower that full of white roses or romantic red roses.
Just hand me a daisy, simple, it’s because I have fallen in love. I have fallen in love with you, as simple as daisy.
Sapiosexual (n.)- a person who is sexually attracted to intelligence in others.
I have no idea why I keep claiming my self as a Sapiosexual. Basically, if we talk about intelligence as one of an indicator of attractiveness, I bet most of people in this world will easily attract on those whose intellect- it’s scientifically proven, by the way. In other words, the looks and the wealth are no longer being an old sole criteria in selecting a companion. For me, the intelligent man is way more sexier (pardon my grammar, I’m just trying to make it looks more dramatic), since they are all come with an extra package- they are all open-minded, have a sense of humor- of course not a cheesy and corny jokes, they just know everything- like e-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g, they also won’t let you look up for the next topic in conversation since they are usually having a broad range of interests and surely will ask you a lot of things- the best part is, your conversation won’t be boring and hey, don’t we agree that sometimes the best part of falling happens in the middle of conversation?
With you my darling, I keep looking up to Neruda’s poem since you like to read historical, ideological and love poetry at the same time. Who else could do that besides Neruda? Remember “Love is so short but forgetting is so long” that being your favorite phases within “Tonight I Can Write (The Saddest Lines)” by Neruda? When you said he didn’t put some kinds of metaphor yet he strongly kicked you right in your heart.
With you my darling, I start to read Camus’s and Sartre’s thought about Existentialism since you keep talking about the absurdity of life where the world didn’t have any purposes and values. Who else could remind you to live authentically and freely besides Camus’s and Sartre’s philosophical thoughts?
With you my darling, Kodaline’s songs are always on the top of my playlist, since the songs are the kind of music that you listen to when you are upset. High Hopes’s now playing through my playlist, by the way.
With you my darling, you change my perspective of the excitement of my first date, it is no longer wearing the cocktail gown and having a premium candle light dinner experience in the expensive French Restaurant. But it is really enough just to have a heavy conversation and share a pretentious ideas accompanied by the cup full of caffeine in a coffee shop down the street.
With you my darling, I don’t mind to spend a couple hours roaming the aisles of a bookstore and discussing about the best seller books rather than to watch such a cheap romance movie and wasting our precious two hours.
Someone said that, we could get attract by looks and appearances, we could fall in love with no reason. With you my darling, falling in love is not only stand for physical attraction, falling in love is not about the necessarily of wealth, but falling in love is when I feel more satisfied as far as I know you, and with you my darling, I don’t mind if I keep claiming my self as a Sapiosexual.
I choose to love you in silence, when no body knows.
I choose to love you in silence, when the sun goes down, when the night comes, when the wind blows and the universe conspires.
I choose to love you in silence, when your presence makes me feel so breathless.
I choose to love you in silence, when my prayer brings me close to tear, till I won’t longer hear.
I choose to love you in silence, when distance is no longer be a barrier, yet it makes us near.
I choose to love you in silence, until you realize, it’s not that fine to be real.
I may cry to the last rain we danced into, and the last sunset we wished for. I know, I shouldn’t be fond of it, since it was just the thing that I imagined.
I may cry to the last story we shared, and the last jokes we laughed at. I know, I shouldn’t longer hear, since those will bring me to a tear.
I may cry to the last song we listened to, and the last song we sang. I know, it was no longer my favorite, since I have removed those from my playlist.
I may cry to the last scenario that I played in my head, and the last expectation that I expected. Now that’s just gone, as if I burned those at the furnace.
That day, when we sipped our last coffee, it was no longer soothing me, it just felt so bitter- not like usual.
I always asked you to stay. But not at that day.
We spent many hours mulling over in a silence;
Your eyes met mine- but I hate that gaze;
And I barely cried, when your hands held mine;
You might not say a thing, but darling, your gaze already explained everything;
Suddenly you came to a decision, when you said it wasn’t only between us two.
Seems like you forgot everything that you did and leaved me alone with these uncertainties.
The scratch of meaningful smile of yours prettified our silence- at least it cracked your guiltiness.
Darling,
I am no longer barely cry,
to the last rain we danced into, and the last sunset we wished for,
to the last story we shared, and the last jokes we laughed at,
to the last song we listened to, and the last song we sang,
to the last scenario that I played in my head, and the last expectation that I expected.
And you know darling,
I may hate you, for lingering my intuition on you,
I may hate you, for leaning my hope on you,
I may hate you, for falling my self on you,
But darling, now I hate you, for every last time I am with you.
“Ciao, Baristi!”
No, no I am not going to write this post in Italiano, since the words I know in Italiano just ‘Ciao‘ and ‘Amore‘ also the only sentence I know in Italiano just ‘Ti amo‘- or should I just write “Ciao! Ti amo, Baristi!” instead?
“One Caramel Macchiato, please” who knows my simple order of the best Espresso Base ever will bring us to the thousand things? I know darling I know, your little coffee shop which located at the corner of Automotive Center didn’t serve Macchiato, but darling, you have to know how I love Macchiato this much.
From the way you respond me, I bet you are such an obedient person, since you automatically smirked your smile and said “Sorry, there’s none of our menu, and I have to work based on the SOP”- Oh come on darling, don’t be that strict to me.
“How about caramel latte?” then you tried to suggest me while you find me dazing because of meticulously reading a small piece of menu which only serve single origin coffee and several Espresso base.
After falling silent for a moment, then I nodded- by perforce.
“I prefer to choose Latte than Macchiato, Latte has a balance taste, while Macchiato is more strong. I am just wondering what is the special thing about Macchiato to you? Basically, both of them have two main ingredients, milk and espresso, what makes them different are the whole steam milk and the milk foam, but ya that’s okay, it’s the matter of taste”, you said- Oh I know darling, I know. Don’t be such an annoying person as if I know nothing about coffee.
This coffee shop is not to large, but I love its ambiance. I sat on the corner of the shop, right next to the window. I read the last Albert Camus’s novel- La Chutte (English: The Fall) . Then you came while brought me the Latte- which was suggested by you and suddenly asked “Camus? Unbelievable!”.
“Sorry?”, I asked for the explication.
“People nowadays tend to love continental philosophy and claim their selves as an existentialist, seemingly forget that everything has an essence, “what makes it, it“. I don’t know if they really understand about the meaning of existentialism or not”, he tried to give me an explanation- or may be you just tried to belittle me.
” If we talk about existentialism, we can’t deny if it has broken loss the traditional Philosophy due to its subjectivity, humanism and free will. But not all the existentialists didn’t believe in essence.”, I tried to put into words.
“So how can you explain about there the intrinsic meaning and free will? If we see the reality, we live in the life full of rules, you can live your life as you wish, no matter how hard you try. Even if we have to find our lives in order to achieve its meaning, still we have to embrace the rules.”, he said- like I said before, you are such an obedient one.
“That’s why we call it a bad faith, where people being under pressure from social forces that disown their innate freedoms. Still we have to find a meaning in a meaningless world as Sartre said”, I respond his argument
“But still it’s not a hundred percent people will get their freedom, this is not a simulacra. Someday you will get an uneasy feeling when you realize that things might no have no essence. There is no totally meaning in anything, there is no correct choices, no intrinsic right or wrong. So how can we know it is a right direction when it is likely a wrong direction ?”, he said
You have a very good point, darling. But I will not fall for it.
“Like running your coffee shop based on SOP and being a person who really obey the rules? It’s the matter of taste, anyway”, I smirked my smile. GOTCHA! It’s neck and neck now.
“By the way, it’s really nice to meet you”, he smiled.
Two hours passed by, I almost reached the last page of Camus’s novel. Actually, I have read this novel three times and this will be the four times I re-read this novel. Every time I read this novel, I always have a different interpretation. No wonder this novel is a dramatic monologue series and it’s hard to understand. Seems like Camus attempts to reveal himself, as he sees himself and the way others see him. Or may be Camus attempts to dig the meaning of existence through this novel. Who knows.
One thing that you should know, darling. There’s the depressing answer from Camus about the meaning of existence. He thought that life had no meaning- hence, Camus philosophical view was known as the existentialist absurdism.
I looked outside the window, I saw you smoked while reading ‘Philosophy and Religion’. No it can’t be. No wonder if you are a little bit skeptical about ‘Existentialism’.
I had my last sip of Latte, I closed Camus’s novel, then I walked into the cashier.
You suddenly closed your book, you run to the cashier with a rush- I can see it when you slam the door.
“Sorry if I bother you”, I said. I feel so bad, honestly.
“No, it’s fine”, he said while give me the receipt.
I handed the money to pay the receipt.
“Thank you”, he said
I smiled.
“Wait”, he added.
“I’d like to make you a cup of Macchiato, how about Saturday next week?”, he asked me directly.
And I nodded, automatically.
The tears that I didn’t cry
The shouts that I didn’t scream
The pain that I felt
and the scars that will be left,
The hope that might be vanished
The trust that couldn’t be trusted
So I was here building a wall
As well as digging the deep ditch
My soul has flown away
My freedom has been taken away
I was standing here to find a way
That bring me to the Broadway
So Baby I can shed a tear
and I can scream a shout
I can drink a beer
and enjoy a glass
I can dance on simulacrum
and wear the mask
I want my own room
and that’s all I ask
I am tired for building a wall
I am tired for digging a ditch
I am tired for wearing a mask
I am tired for pretending to be what I know I am not.
Insecurities,
You slowly kill me.
To tell you the truth I have no idea what to start this letter with, even I don’t know whether I really need to write this letter or not. Simple truth is, I am suck at showing my feeling nor have the guts on admitting. Thus, later on this letter could be a proof if once I’ve fallen for you this way.
“Hello!”, may be it sounds so awkward to start this letter with the word “Hello”- See? I have known you for a couple of years and still find my self so hard to jump-off a conversation with you; alike the way to start this letter. But don’t people normally use the word “Hello” to start the letters or conversation? So, “Hello, you!”.
It is been so long since we hadn’t met each others, I can’t clearly remember the last time we spent our couple times in the local coffee shop; sipping our favorite coffee and discussing about the latest best selling books, the last time we shared pretentious ideas about international and domestic issues, the last time we had such a heavy conversation from philosophy until humanism until laughing at the cheesy and corny confabulations. I wish to go back to those times- don’t we all wish to go back to momentous ones?
You should know something, as far as I know you, you are the most unpredictable person that I have ever met in my life! At one time you could be as soft as my favorite chocolate cake, but at another you could change yourself as bitter as my morning authentic black coffee. You could be so carping like my old-fashioned-lecturer, but could be so wordless like an old-mossy-stone-statue. You could be a caramel on my macchiato, but suddenly change into melted ice cubes on my coffee; oh-I-hate-it!. At one time you could be someone who makes me smile whole day, but at another you could be someone who makes my heart breaks. Wait, is that thing that Introverts probably do? I know, you are not unpredictable, you are weird, but not always in a good way.
As I said earlier, I am not kind of person who are good at admitting (remember when you think I am putting on airs?), I am such a haughty person who didn’t have a bravery to reveal a matter of fact. So, If there’s one thing that I could say……
The word ‘thank you’ will be the word that I would say to you; over and over again. No, it’s not like ‘Thank you for being a good listener’; ‘Thank you for always be there when I am upset’; ‘Thank you for always believing in me and my potentials’, ‘Thank you for always making me smile’, ‘Thank you for always reminding me’; no I am not going to say that since I know it will sound so cliche and stale. Besides, the word ‘thank you’ that I will say to you, probably more than that- I really mean it, so ‘thank you’ for everything.
Until I reach the last paragraph on this letter, I still have no idea, why I keep writing this. I have no intention to be such an ‘attention whore’ in front of you, I really do; because I know exactly, you know me better than myself.
Inexplicable Phrases 