The Girl Who Dreamt Of The Moon

Once upon the time, there was a little girl. Every night she sat by her window and stared longingly at the moon. In her eyes it was the brightest object out in the night sky, and there was a reason for it. She believed that the moon was only radiant to whoever’s in love with it, since people who didn’t mind much of its existence would find it dull compared to the flirty stars. Thus, her being in love with the moon made its extravagance a thousand times more charming and unbeatable, and she found herself becoming more and more adrift in its beauty every passing day.

But always came the time when the moon disappeared and its throne got taken over by the sun. She found that situation strongly unacceptable, because then she had to wait for half a whole day to be able to see the moon again. Her excuse was simple: When you’re in love, a minute waiting feels like a thousand years dying. She began to think of a way to never let go of the moon.

She came up with a brilliant solution: She had to, just had to, unite with it. If they were together, nothing would tear them apart, not even the rotation of the earth or the cycle of the universe. There won’t be sun to interfere. There won’t even be days and night, because the moon would hold no other existence except of hers, and nothing else really mattered.

Hence, she tried everything. She sneaked into a NASA rocket satellite, she tried heaving the moon closer using a powerful magnetic source, she hired architects to build a tunnel to the surface of the moon, she went to an old wizard deep in the swamp and begged for him to magically transport her there, she jumped on a giant-sized trampoline and wished that she’d leap straight to the moon. Yet her efforts were fruitless, and at the end she was left with a handful of hopeless thoughts.

She was so desperate to get to the moon that one night something so indescribably wonderful happened. The moon suddenly waltzed off from its place up in the night sky, and towards the earth! It came further lower and lower, until she could be completely sure that it was approaching her. The wind was cold and ruthless, yet her heart warmed up like a bowl of soup in a saucepan and her eyes lit up like candles during an electricity blackout. And the moon was still gracefully moving closer toward her window.

At last they were face to face, apart only by her window frame.

“Would you like to come with me?” Asked the moon.

She held her breath in and whispered, “Yes.”

She began to climb out of her window. A vile thought suddenly flashed through her airy mind and she couldn’t help but to ask loudly, “Wait, this isn’t a dream is it?”

“Of course not, Sweetheart,” Smiled the moon.

She was ensured. She put one delighted step on the moon.

And that was exactly right when she woke up from her nap.

The Girl Who Had A Hole In Her Chest Where Her Spongy Heart Used To Be.

Once upon a time, there was a little girl. She had the unimaginable disease of a Sponge Heart; which is the ability to absorb every little thing seriously and be emotionally attached to them. When such thing was diagnosed, the doctor resigned from the case out of shock and desperation to find the cure. Her parents travelled across the globe and went from one internationally acclaimed doctor to another, yet their efforts were fruitless.

After much discussion and recalculation, her parents decided to let her be. They could only hope that instead of being a fatal flaw, that heart condition of hers could give her benefits such as the beauty of consideration, compassion, gentleness, and care toward others in order to promote world peace and reduce poverty and famine.

As she grew up, things were looking remarkably good, even for herself. Because she took everything seriously, that made her a thinker, a hard worker, a helping saint to any misfortune that befalls the human race. And because she was emotionally attached to every little thing, that made her affectionate, full of sympathy and understanding, an angel to the eyes of the loathed, a divine example of sheer benevolence.

Until came the day her heart gets broken by a boy. The feeling was completely new to her, for she had never felt such pain. It was exactly like somebody had just tore open her ribs, yank her spongy heart out, and plunge it into a pit of ice cold water filled with poisonous venom. It was prickly, stabbing, agonizing, yet also numbing. Her sponge heart kept on absorbing and digesting the pain; she couldn’t get over it.

Because she took everything seriously, to her it was the end of the world. She had never felt so ugly and unwanted before, and in her eyes everything was beginning to crumble down into debris. And because she was too emotionally attached to such matter, she couldn’t help but to replay thousands of remorseful questions in her head; what exactly went wrong, how did I let this happen, how did he let this happen, how long is this going to last, why oh why the cruelty?

Overtime, as she kept falling down the bottomless well of despair, her sadness turned into anger. She was angry at such misfortune that had caused her inability to crawl back into space in the first place: her heart condition. She began to wonder, what if she was born with a normal heart designed to easily forgive and forget. What if she had a simple, solid heart with limited capacity and also an out vessel to exit some unwanted feelings? Things would’ve been easier that way.

Therefore, she decided to cut her heart out. One night, she sneaked into the operation room of a hospital, grabbed some knives, scissors, tweezers, and whatnot. She sliced open her chest, carefully cutting off the blood vessels and muscles that connected her heart to her body. And very slowly but steadily, she removed her heart, put it on the table, and stared at it for a long time. It really was spongy. It was weird. She felt much happier not having it inside her.

From then on, she had a hole in her chest where her spongy heart used to be.

I miss this guy.

It's been almost a year now since we first met. It's been months since I stopped missing him. It's been two hours since I started feeling melancholic today - the kind of melancholy that triggers you to miss somebody - therefore I started missing him all over again. At times like this, the only thing I could think about is his voice over the phone, saying "I promise someday we'll see each other again."

"Long ago, men went to sea, and women waited for them, standing on the edge of the water, scanning the horizon for the tiny ship. Now I wait for Henry. He vanishes unwillingly, without warning. I wait for him. Each moment that I wait feels like a year, an eternity. Each moment is as slow and transparent as glass. Through each moment I can see infinite moments lined up, waiting. Why has he gone where I cannot follow?"
An excerpt from The Time Traveler's Wife

P.S. I hope he doesn't read my blog!!!

I am a lonesome stalker.

9:30 pm
yesss YESSS finally I'm in the mood to do my long-procrastinated school project/thesis/assignment!!! Caffeine is indeed the new Santa...

9:45 pm
Whoa that actually felt like days... I think I deserve a little break, let's open my facebook page and see if anyone had actually remembered my existence during the weekend!

9:47 pm
Hmmm... friends from my old school had already posted their graduation pics. Wouldn't hurt to take a 'lil peek would it now?

9:50 pm
Dress ups by day and formal graduation party by night? Interesting... Remind me why I'm not in the pics right now smiling happily to the camera while some dude's hand is resting around my waist, again?

9:51 pm
OMG this has got to stop!!! Friggin' hell why can't you stop hovering about the past? What's dead is DEAD Adilla, get over it. Plus you should be doing your schoolwork by now, so snap out of it!!
... Oh well maybe a couple more pics would be just fine...

9:55 pm
Holy fucking shit I should've realized this was coming!! I should've shutted down my whole internet connection like I knew better!! I should've cut my wrist open and smeared my computer screen with blood thick and good to prevent me from seeing what I'm seeing now!! WHY oh WHY my graceful forgiving loving God, doesn't he at least have the mercy as NOT to look hot even in his facebook pics??????????????????????????

9:58 pm
Oh my last breath indeed had just passed away before me... Look at how beautifully the sunlight shineth on that sleek dark hair of his... Look at that radiant smile that even the most blossomed roses are jealous of its unforgivable curse of exquisite charm...

10:00 pm
And now he is nothing but a Spanish Sex God (A Spanish Sex God who of course, isn't actually Spanish). That figure... OH THAT FIGURE! Which could seduce the most obstinate girls in the whole wide world, which could turn Casanova either enraged or suicidal with envy, since no true lady would ever disregard the exotic sensuality that exudes from his aura... That lady being me of course.

10:05 pm
"Oh love! Oh fire! Once he drew with one long kiss my whole sould through my lips, as sunlight drinketh dew"

10:20 pm
Dear God, Allah, Jesus, Yahweh, whichever, if you can hear me right now, please let me bump into an ugly photo of him, therefore as vain as I am, I'll be able to get over him simply by noticing misperfection on his ever-perfect face, and life will go about just fine and I'll be able to finish my schoolwork tonight...

10:30 pm
OMG YESS YESS nailed you byotch!! I've found a not-so-good-looking photo of you, finally!! HA turns out you're not as hot as you thought you were, are you? (Correction: Turns out you're not as hot as I thought you were, are you?) Anyways lemme just have a good 2 minutes look and soon I'll be over you.

10:45 pm
Naah I can't lie to myself, COME ON!! No matter how bad you look in that particular stupid facebook photo, in the back of my mind you're still the perfect young lover-slash-heartbreaker who made my old days as unforgettable as ever...

10:46 pm
SO WHAT NOW??


Note: These writings are exaggerated, of course, it's more fun that way. I'm not as stalker-ish as I appeared to be, honest to God.
... Or am I??

All you need is love (?)

Love is the answer, but while you're waiting for the answer, sex raises some pretty interesting questions.
Woody Allen

Where there is love, distance doesn't matter.
Mata Amritanandamayi

If you say, I love you, then you have already fallen in love with language, which is already a form of break up and infidelity.
Jean Baudrillard

Love suffers long, and is kind; love does not envy; love does not parade itself, is not puffed up; does not behave rudely, does not seek its own, is not provoked, thinks no evil; does not rejoice in iniquity, but rejoices in the truth; bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never fails.... And now abide faith, hope, love, these three; but the greatest of these is love.
The Bible, 1 Corinthians 13:4 - 8

Love can be compared to a double-edged serrated sword. It offers the most divine, and most preferable protection and joy that anyone could ever want. But, when it goes away, we are scarred and hurt beyond all imagination. Anyone and everyone who has felt the sting, bite, and poison of unrecquited or lost love knows what it is like to die a living death.
Elan Buckley

Love is watching someone die.
Death Cab for Cutie

Love does not consist in gazing at each other, but in looking outward together in the same direction.
Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

Falling in love is not at all the most stupid thing that people do — but gravitation cannot be held responsible for it.
Albert Einstein

Love ain't nothing but sex misspelled.
Harlan Ellison, Title of book (1968)

Love gives naught but itself and takes naught but from itself. Love possesses not nor would it be possessed; For love is sufficient unto love.
Khalil Gibran, The Prophet

one distorted love

Love partakes of the soul itself. It is of the same nature. Like the soul, it is a divine spark; it is incorruptible, indivisible, imperishable. It is a point of fire within us, which is immortal and infinite, which nothing can limit and nothing can extinguish. We feel it burning even in the marrow of our bones, and we see it radiate even to the depths of the sky.
Victor Hugo in Les Misérables

Love loves to love love.
James Joyce in "Ulysses"

People think love is an emotion. Love is good sense.
Ken Kesey

The famous myth from Plato's Symposium: People were hermaphrodites until God splits them in two, and now all the halves wander around the world over seeking one another. Love is the longing for the half of ourselves we have lost.
Milan Kundera (The Unbearable Lightness of Being)

"Love's an excuse to get hurt. And to hurt."
Conor Oberst

For where thou art, there is the world itself, and where though art not, desolation.

William Shakespeare in Henry VI, Part II, Act iii, Sc.2

You know you're in love when you can't sleep because reality is finally better than your dreams.
Dr. Seuss

Love is a madness; if thwarted it develops fast.
Mark Twain

If somebody says, "I love you", to me, I feel as though I had a pistol pointed at my head. What can anybody reply under such conditions but that which the pistol-holder requires? "I love you, too".
Kurt Vonnegut, Jr. in Wampeters, Foma and Granfalloons, "Address at Dedication of Wheaton College Library, 1973" (1974).

How many loved your moments of glad grace
And loved your beauty with love false or true
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you
And loved the sorrows of your changing face.
William Butler Yeats

Just because I'm alone doesn't mean I'm lonely.

It's over midnite and I'm nowhere near sleepy. I hate it when I'm suposed to be doing something (like sleeping) but then I'm not. It opens up a gate in my head for random thoughts to come rushing in. And I hate having to think over things at this wee of hour, my brain is certainly not functioning well. I wish I had a switch to turn off and on the flow of my brain, or to temporarily erase memories. That way when I don't feel like getting burdened over thoughts, I can just shut the whole system down.

Right now I'm thinking about someone, but I'm not exactly sure what to think about since that person just kinda... dissapeared. Well that's not true, I am sure of what I can think about, coz there are lots of detailed ways to think about a certain somebody. Like the way that person smiles, talks, eats, smells, or even calls you names. But I mean, I'm not even sure if that person is still alive. Ok that's not true, I perfectly know that that person is still alive, it's just that that person seems to be dead rite now. I don't mean dead as in buried 5 foot beneath the earth, but dead as in not showing any signs of existence whatsoever. And if I think about that person over and over again, that would make me miss that person even more. And imagine if that person is actually *please god don't let this happen* dead, how shattered and broken down into blood-drenched, fragmented pieces would my heart be. Especially since that person kept going round and round in my head. So I'm just trying not to think about that person as much as I used to, coz everything is possible yet nothing is perfect. And still there's the friggin' Indian ocean that bids us part.

And there's this one more person, who's always either sleepy or tired and you couldn't possibly tell whether that person is in the mood or not. Ok fine that's not true, that person is always in the mood.

Oh and theres this last person, whose body makes girls wanna dry hump. Well at least I do. Too bad that person had been nothing but talks.

Well enough about them. I'm totally comfortable with being alone.

At least for now.

Commitment without marriage.

A few days ago I watched He's Just Not That Into You. I'm not exactly a chick flick lover here but that movie was pretty good! I especially love the part where Neil (Ben Affleck) talked about how relationships don't always have to lead to marriage. If you want to upgrade your relationship to the next level, then it's just as simple as doing a vow that you'd be committed to each other, that you'll keep your love 'till the end of time. That way you still can have someone to hold on to, a chest to lay your heads on, someone to grow old with, someone to pass on your generation without the strain of getting into marriage just because your fussy neighbors would gossip about your spinster life if you're still unmarried at the age of 35.

That's what you call a commitment. And sometimes getting into commitments is harder than getting married. More than a few people are married out of force, society pressures, or the fear of being alone. And then the next thing they know they regret ever taking that decision, mainly because they realize that their love for their spouses have drained out overtime, so divorce becomes their only option. Whereas in commitments, you have to really love somebody to choose that path, therwise you would know deep down in your heart that you don't want to be committed to that certain someone. Oh and unlike marriage, when you feel the need to break off the commitment, you don't have to pay a fortune to hire a lawyer and waste your time energy emotion going back and forth the court. Snap.

The only thing that differentiate commitments with marriages is a stupid ring on your finger. So admit it, marriage is overrated.

Why am I writing this? Because right now what's going on in my mind is: I want him but I dont want to be with him :)

Another day wasted.

I like it when guys like me coz they think I'm different. Like, when they (or he, whatever) sent me a text message at 4 o'clock in the morning to say "...i think you're different from most girls, in a good way". And when the next day I told him, "thanks, you made me feel special", he replied with "you are special". It felt drop-dead-satisfying. It's like winning a game you've been playing for your entire life. It's like having a glow-in-the-dark substance flowing through your veins. It's like being bold when every other thing is dull.

Unfortunately that particular guy is somewhere across the universe.

Anyway, i have a book recommendation: the Catcher in the Rye.


It's a about a boy named Holden Caulfield, and he's like, totally lost. Not lost as in stranded on some solitary island, bust lost as in not knowing what to expect from life. He just got expelled from his boarding school - in which he never felt belong anyway - and he decided to runaway home, because, well, he thought he just couldn't live there anymore.

So in search of himself, he did a concealed, internal rebellion on the world - his world, to be precise. He viewed everything like nobody had ever done before, minding the simple trivial details while exuding logical skepticism out of his every thought. He examined everything he saw, felt, heard, tasted, fantasized, with descriptions that were both obscure yet engaging, exaggerated yet inevitably true. His feeling of alienation made him hard to trust anyone. Anyone except his little sister, Phoebe, whom he thought was the only one he knew who had a clear mind amidst all the nonsense he was getting through.

And to that little Phoebe he finally spilled out his whole heart. His deepest, incomprehensible thought that made him the way he was:

"...I keep picturing all these little kids playing some game in this big field of rye and all. Thousands of little kids, and nobody's around — nobody big, I mean — except me. And I'm standing on the edge of some crazy cliff. What I have to do, I have to catch everybody if they start to go over the cliff — I mean if they're running and they don't look where they're going I have to come out from somewhere and catch them. That's all I'd do all day. I'd just be the catcher in the rye and all. I know it's crazy, but that's the only thing I'd really like to be. I know it's crazy."

And instantly i fell in love with him.

P.S. This entry is titled Another Day Wasted because right now, right this moment, I'm supposed to be studying physics for the upcoming exam. All i did was flick through a couple of pages and then got tempted to write. *sigh*


peter loves wendy

Murdered by boredom.

What kind of parents don't let their daughter to her friend's birthday party and instead forced her to tag along to their college reunion, which they perfectly knew will be full of fat bald men and sagging fat women in their fifties and talk nothing but politics and their unforgettably fulfilling college life, and if during the event she shows a tiny bit of boredom or unwillingness to mingle with the super-tedious crowd, they'll go berserk and yell at her for being sooo fucking "ungrateful"??????? geezzz gimme a break, and my own life if u don't mind!!

So yeah, today started out sweet (too sweet maybe) and then THIS happened. And FYI, I'm still at the oh-so-exciting reunion right now, right this second. I wish I could make out a false alarm that a huuuge flood is coming so we all can just scurry back to our own houses. What sucks is that I obviously can't call any of my friends to seek comfort right now since they are all at the goddamn party.

I'm sure you are all tired of hearing my ungrateful blabbers, so let's just talk about yesterday instead. You know that feeling when you ate too much sugar and you get all hyped up and such but your tongue turned numb anyway? Yeah that's the kind of state i was in when i climbed up to my bed yesterday night. All flowery and dreamy and full of upcoming hopes yet also speechless. Like, dumb-struck love-struck speechless, not believing what just happened speechless. And all that was over a guy, whom I only met for 2 whole weeks 5 months ago, who happens to be 100000000000000 miles away, and who promised that we'll meet again in 1,5 year time (that is after his graduation).

ADILLA IS A PATHETIC WEIRDO

The thing is, what are the boundaries of being pathetic and realistic anyway? I mean, I've met him in person, I've talked and laughed with him, I've touched and hugged him, I've felt his lips, I've felt his heart beat, but still the only thing that connects us right now is a piece of shit called technology, and imagine if we were living in the stone age, how would we know that we miss each other every single remaining day??

PATHETIC, ADILLA, PATHETIC!!

Oh yaaay we're going home now! FINALLY!