Prose: Do I Miss You?

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Between Lights and Memories – Gouache on Canvas Paper (2016)

It has been 7 years not seeing you again, maybe you’re out there falling in love with someone else. I might spend my time mumbling about random things to you if you let me, but I don’t want to waste your time because we might not see each other again.

Do I miss you?

I remember the day I sent you a stupid piece of writing I took from “10 Things I Hate About You”. You asked me “what’s wrong with my shoes?” and I said that I just hated the way you wore your big red boots because I loved seeing you in sneakers instead.

Do you remember when we called each other every night no matter how many times we met during the day? Or when you called me while I was pissed because we were faraway from each other and you started to tell a dog’s love story to cheer me up? Do you remember the day I called you just to tell how my day was even though we had lunch together in the same day?

I remember the time when I drove at night to your flat when I suddenly missed you with no reason. Even we had to keep it silent because I might wake your roommate for being too loud and over excited while hugging you when I arrived. Later we talked about secrets and we kissed in a dark. We fell asleep in your bed with my clothes on because we felt the intimacy created from a deep talk not sexual intercourse. From the first night to many many nights after, with deeper talk and ugly tees we wore.

I also reckon the moment when you drove for three hours just to have lunch and dinner with me on Sunday. Then I suggested you a weird place to hang out because I ran off the idea. We still enjoyed that between kebab and stupid conversations.

Do you remember when we went out for some ice creams during the exam week? When you taught me one subject that I nailed it with higher score than you got? Or the day we studied together in the same ice cream shop but ended up talking about random stuffs again?

But then I walked away, I pushed you away before you left me and took me for granted. I didn’t know why I chose to believe it. I never wanted to be the last one in pain, nor the last one who waited the story crumbling by itself. I wanted to be selfish because it avoided me from losing more of your kindness and memories of us.

Do I miss you?

Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all.

From: “An Ode Of Memories” (2014) with moderation.

Meine Zuhaus: Interpretation of Abstract

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Mein Zuhaus – Gouache on Mixed Media Paper (2017)

How much do you miss your home? I’m one of those sentimental people who always missing their home and their family. Living in an urban city is not easy, as everything moves so fast, like it’s fast-forwarded at every second we try to catch a breath for a moment.

Urban city leaves less beautiful memory, it’s mere a dream that has faded away washed by reality. It’s a hallucination of being great, powerful, and lavish, but you’re poor and bored on the daily basis. You won’t have a chance just to be grateful for waking up in the morning and still alive, but you curse everything why you have to be breathing so that you have to keep working for something you don’t like.

Life is cruel in the urban city, you don’t sleep well, you don’t feel like home. You need to pay the rent, you pay for the food you hate, you pay for a sleazy and slow transportation to roam. You will always miss your home, in a small village in your hometown where everybody seems happy and afar from a frustrating life in the big city.

Do you miss your home? Because I do. Everyday.

Orange Scooter (2012)

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Enjoy The Ride with Vespa – Paper 53 (2012)

Dear a man,

never hurt her feeling

Dear a man,

never leave her alone sinking

You’re a man with orange scooter

She’s a girl with feet to wander

Take her somewhere keep her aware

of your attention, solitude affection

She was in love but the time wasn’t right

Maybe you loved her but you both ended in fight

Guess you’re a man that she ever loved

Guess you’re a man that she ever dreamed of

It’s a time to go so say goodbye

It was a good memory she could never buy

-CH (Adelaide, 2012)

 

A Story About…

“Just… leave.”

She closed the door. She didn’t care, he might leave forever.

A while ago…

“Take me out tonight… Because I want to see people and I want to see life…”
“You love that song?”
“Am I too loud? I thought you won’t hear me because of the helmet.”
“No, it’s not too loud but I can hear you very clearly… do you love that song?”
“I don’t,” she answered.
“Then, why are you keep singing?”
“Because it’s a must song to sing every time you take me out, whether you ride a scooter or drive a car.”
“Silly… Wanna have some gelato?” he chuckled.
“Let’s go!” she shouted enthusiastically.

Two years passed.

“Never trust anyone interfering your relationship… if you’re happy with them, keep it close, keep the problem away.”

Three years passed.

He never be found at sight.
She lost him forever.

Four years passed.

HI… HOWS EVRYTHN GOIN?

Then she deleted the typing she made and the text never be sent.

Five years passed.

She never knew, whether he ever wondered her reason… or he might never be cared at all.

Six years passed.

She smiled. She was in love, but not to him anymore. Yet the regret still remained.

Seven years passed.

If love never hurts… you never actually learn how to love.

She smiled. Reminiscing the day when she first learned to bend and break because of love.

-CH (March 2017)