Deshi Basara

Back again on things that I thought I really knew about and yet nothing has come out with — writing.

I put my headset on, hear music that I used to know, and brew a cup of coffee tonight.

Where do I begin?

I want to write down what I want to write tonight. Life.

Been anywhere. Been anything. And yet world always proves us, with two words and only these two words everyone had in their mind since the beginning — not enough.

None feels so happy and sad for long time. I guess I am broken young enough to know world wasn’t so friendly and nice. But I survived though, still there are always people who suffers more. Always.

These might be sounds really cheesy, but I do know God exists. Satan has ever tried to whisper my ear ones. If I do not have faith, I might be already died. Death is a part of life, not the enemies.

Maybe one thing I have ever been so true in my life, to stay alive, I guess it is the bravest things I have ever done.

Think again. It is all gray or blue, and then to feel love. Ah, it reminds me that it is not so bad. It is not so bad.

I do not believe people that say they have never been so sad in their life. I feel sorry for them. We should. We should be sad sometimes. In fact, we are, we fall.

and then why do we fall? So we can learn to pick ourselves up. It is not who you are underneath, it is what you do that defines you. Alfred told me that.

I do not know what you are thinking right now. Believe me, there is a storm coming and you have never seen it before. Something is so wrong. I can feel it coming. like something about to happen but I do not know what.

If it is true, then we will be in big trouble. Big trouble.

I write my poems to let go.

I’d like being alone so much. Not knowing who to talk with, sometimes being myself, it’s enough. No need to be someone else. I don’t have to pretend to be someone else just to make people agree or respect you. I do not want to be like others.

I love a lie just like everybody else. We all does. We love it. Hate it when we know it was not real.

You will never reveal what’s truth behind someone. You will never be so pure-honest to others. The way I see it, the more honest I try to, the otherwise will be.

There is a blessing and curse to be the only son. I am trying to be honest. I am also trying to be modest. I am a weirdo. I did not talk to my friends when the first year I started in kindergarten.

I was talking to the moon — well, I was talking to myself all along. I was a good story teller back then, when I was a kid. I create a story, make a different sounds, be anyone, I mean I can be Evil. I can be God. I can be me.

Alone. Alone. Until it is safe and sound to my comfort zone. I am still talking alone sometimes. Someday I will tell you more about this. I will write about this. Someday maybe I will stop. Or maybe I won’t.

I do not care. Nothing matters. Nothings matter anymore. But the purpose of life that matters. y’all seeking for fun and yet I am seeking for greatness.

To see the world; things dangerous to come to, to see behind walls, to draw closer, to find each other and to feel. That, is the purpose of Life.