The morning was still the same. Still offering millions of opportunities to try something new or just to realize the old wish to come true. But the chance thing is a decisive heart, you want to pass it, try it or hold it. Yes, I believe about the phrase "chance may come twice". But the sentence is accompanied by a possible word, meaning you can meet similar opportunities, other opportunities or lose both.
Forget about the discussion of opportunity. In fact, I often ask my heart more than this brain. And the opportunity I missed or took, mostly over the discussion between me and my heart. May my heart be much wiser than any wise words that comes to mind as I manage to rise from adversity.
Noon at that time-was still the same. I'd love to think about you. Through the millions of poems I want to write but unfortunately only one is created. Through the poem "Do not look at me closely, if you do not dare to approach," I hope the poem does not spawn, come out without saying goodbye from my workbook that I insert some turmoil in it. But sorry, that afternoon I can not think of you much longer. In fact, my stomach is still the main one. I have to fill ammunition for admiring you-I need some effort.
Afternoon is the twilight. And twilight orange. Although not all dusk are orange, sometimes gray, blue, or a combination of all three and maybe you have other opinions. But twilight has always been my favorite. Not about orange, gray or blue. Not even about the warmth. But through the twilight atmosphere, I can assemble beautiful sentences without the need to scratch ink on my kertas. By chance at the moment I'm not holding a paper.
So through the "twilight" I can string that evening sky scratch the orange ink and the warm atmosphere as warm as your smile is very sweet as I wait Friday afternoon on Monday morning. And let me still like the twilight in spite of the fact that I secretly often tell about you at dusk.
Me and my night. Not entirely about us both. In fact I am also accompanied by clockwise beeps but rarely ignore me. I'm waiting for you after all day I'm just about you. Yes, I'm waiting for you through the longing poems I have not made but I can fully guess. If poetry can not entertaining me entirely, in the night I can still be comforted by the longing that I have not been able to express firmly.
I'm sure everyone needs a safe position. Maybe just for a while or someone wants forever. And I think this is my amateur position. AMAZING ME IN MY DAMAGES. I admire you not like I admire Lee Min Ho, nor is it like I admire athletes in Istora. You must understand what I mean. But I will not say it. Because I want to play a puzzle with you even though I'm confused how to invite you to join.
You! Yes, you. You are too tight to find a crack in your heart. Too much beauty around you. And I'm planning to make the poem "I love both of us" might just be a shabby display in your life. Or is not there at all?
Thus, the myriads of fears, anxieties, and worries always cling to my mind at the same time as a rebellious heart. And I understand very clearly that revealing to you is not the same as when I told my elementary school teacher that I did not do homework.
Then I ask anyone? Do all feelings have to be expressed? What is love, affection, and admiration expressed? How to hate, envy, and jealousy? Do they need to be drowned? Therefore, if in silence will always make me with you, I will survive. If my silence keeps me by watching you, I will continue to do so and if in silence I can have you, I will continue to fight even if I have only in my heart without ever knowing.
Admire you in my silence. I knew exactly the risks I could get. Maybe you'll be with the others and maybe you never feel what I feel. But in fact any sick, Admiring you in my silence is still my favorite in the morning, afternoon, twilight, and night. And I have you, long before you know even in my heart, though it just feels beautiful in my imagination
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Those who know how to think need no teachers.
- Mahatma Gandhi