July 13, 2010


why dont you ask for my hands when we walk together?
why dont you hug me when you know that i need one?
why dont you pet me when i cant express my feelings?
why dont you do things that you used to do before i become yours?
why dont you try to comfort me instead of asking me questions?
why dont you read me like a book as you always did before?

love can be broken into percentages.so keep some for yourself.
that's what i always tell myself.to bare in mind.
no matter how many times i remember that,
i always failed.

to love someone whole heartedly,
to prioritize my loved one,
that's just the nature of me.


you're not my grandpa, you're not my granny but i always remember you.

one night,
my friends and i went out to watch one of world cup 2010 matches.

we stopped at one petrol station at the federal highway while waiting for the other friends.

as my friend parked our car,
i saw a taxi beside us.

my eyes caught on the driver.an old taxi driver.
he was sleeping.sleeping as in nodding position.
with melting ice-cream in his grasp.

it touched my heart.

why doesn't life give him lots of passenger?
why doesn't life help him a little?

he woke up not long after we parked there.
he looked helplessly at the ice-cream.
he didn't continue eating it...

perhaps,he doesn't have the appetite anymore as the ice-cream is melted.


i went to a restaurant for lunch.

while queuing to choose the foods;
beside me,
stood another old man.

he is thin.
he is shrinking.

i heard he called a waitress.
i heard what he said:
"can you help me to pour the food in this plastic bag? i'm scared if i do it myself, it will mess up this place."

it struck my heart.

i couldn't bring myself to look at him.
as my eyes go wattery.

i sat down with my meals on the table.
but i couldn't eat them.my mind still on this one old man.

and then,
i saw him.walked out from the restaurant.
and he reached his bicycle in a snail slow motion,
before he dissapeared from my gaze.

i have come across this situation many times.
and every single time i encounter an old man or an old lady,
i have the same feeling
i feel like crying
looking at their face.
for i know, behind them lies a thousand indescribable feelings.

not your granddaughter,