The Struggle is Real

I’d fall or not

I wrote this a month ago. I hope it makes sense. Haha. Well, my deepest apology for the incorrect grammars or typos. I am not a good proofreader. Jiji.

I am little into sad or tragic topics. Well, I suck at funny things but I laugh at the most trivial and nonsensical stuffs. Ironic, isn’t it?

Well, anyways, Thanks a lot!



If it requires to feel pain in order to fall, then I’d rather not. Falling, in a simple sense that the initial pull of gravity will force you to reach the solid ground– making you shatter into small pieces. All you have to do to create a new you is to collect the fragments from that fall. It would be like creating an invention out of recycled garbage. Why? Because there wasn’t anyone who’s brave enough to catch you. Now you have to fix yourself all alone.

Maybe, you’re dumb enough to jump from that cliff by yourself, hoping there’d be someone who’ll guarantee that you won’t get hurt.

But sometimes, it is hoping that makes our story cruel. If there won’t be any hope in the first place, then there won’t be any expectations.

Or on the contrary, maybe you’re more afraid of going back, because it requires you to begin again– and you hate repeating things. It would be like a replayed football game that you’ve predicted the end results. You got used to the changes– to the challenges you faced along the way– thus, there’s no way for you to  go back to the starting line again. It is tiring after all.

After all these events in your life, you realized that you won’t teach the intangible finish line unless you experience the real struggle of falling.


I hope that you just didn’t associate this short essay with love. It’s in general.

carpe diem everyone!

Posted in A blog, Bitterness at its best

Dear Momster (The Second Letter)

I don’t want to be a Momster.

Something sad happened so I decided to write this in my cousin’s behalf. I just want to remind everybody that she doesn’t know that I am writing this for her nor our family members. Thus, I don’t use their real names. I hope you understand.


I don’t have any time to have proper greetings, mom. I don’t even want to greet you.

What happened to you? Why did you became worse than before? I hate you, mom!

You just called and talked to grandpa and grandma. You fought about this business that you started. You talked to them like their not your parents. You showed disrespect to them, mom. I hate you! Aren’t you thankful to them that they raised us instead of you? Aren’t you happy that they loved us?

What I am really scared of right now is the possibility that you might cause them to have a heart attack. You don’t even consider their health conditions. All you did was cause them problems to worry about. I love it whenever they smile or laugh, even if they were because of stupid reasons. I am happy and contended when they are happy, mom. Why are you trying to take that away?

I don’t understand you anymore mom. You’re pressuring me as well, telling me that I am the only one who takes your side. Why are you making every one your enemy mom? No one wants to fight with you! You are the one who created the conflicts, the problems, and the misunderstandings! I hate you mom!

You even curse at them. You know what? I figured out that you will never change. Never will. I’m tired of all your reasons mom! I am not blind. You’re sick- totally sick!

Don’t you realize? You’re a burden to them! We’re a burden to them but they chose to carry us even if the weight is unbearable. Why can’t you see that mom? You’re so selfish.

You think that you suffer? How about us? How about my younger sister? How about everyone whom you dragged into this? Your pain is self-inflicted mom. That’s self-pity!

You pity yourself and you praise your own self as well. You call us stupid? Mosquito-minded (utak-ipis)? What about you? Why don’t you check yourself mom? When will you try to choose your words before you speak?

I wanted peace. But you created this war that nobody wanted. You created it and all of us became a mess.

Mommy, when will you look at us as your family not as some kind of slave you can command any time? When will you give your trust to us? When will you fix your mindset? There are people who tries to understand you. Even if it is tiring, they still try.

When will you wash out the madness and sadness you obsessively keep in your heart? When?

When I grow up, I wish I wouldn’t be like you. No– scratch that– I wouldn’t even try to be like you. I don’t want to feed a monster inside of me.