Monday, 20 January 2013
I don’t want to start this letter with ‘dear, you’. Because
I know you won’t like it. You think it sounds cheesy. But, fuck you. Deep down
inside you’re the cheesiest person who cries over break up poems eventhough you’re
not in sorrow, who spends piles of tissues on drama films you watch at midnight,
who sobs silently between the pages of young adult novels. So, how’s your day? Are
you married? Whom are you married to? Is he that possesive and over – jealousy guy
you met on a blind date? Do you have any children? Do you check on the labels every time you buy something on supermarket or whatever and make sure they’re super healthy and contains no
msg and banned food color? Damn, I always think you’ll be that kind of mom who’s
radical enough with vegan guns and restricted television time. I know you’re
patient, very patient, to your students back then. But, I don’t know what you’re
going to do with your own children if you have some. What do you do for a
living now? Do you still have those dreams of being a fashion photographer,
having a nice small vegan cafe, or writer? Damn, you used to want to be a
writer, a fucking writer. I remember you wrote a bunch of fables and fairytales
back when you were a third and fourth grader. You wrote them on the dining
table, and not wanting anyone to look at you while you were writing your pieces.
You were so demanded, you could wrote five or even ten pages of A5 in one
night, with your hands. You wrote too many heart broken poems when your first
love dumped you. You were still 12 or 13 at that time. You never knew you could
be so depressive when you’re down, right? Anyway, how’s photography? Do you
still shoot with films? How much are they now? Whom do you shoot now? Now, I
have a good question haha. How many guys have you fucked? I hope you’ve fucked
at least four people. Have you finally had an epic orgasm? Because I’ve never
had any. I don’t know is it because I’m just not fuckable or I haven’t met
someone who knows how to please this hard to please lady. I’m so jealous with
my friends who seem like they have a great sex life. Fuck them. I hope you’ve fucked someone hot. Seriously.
Hot as fuck. I hope you’re brave enough to be more adventurous and spontaneous.
Have you gone somewhere far? I haven’t gone to anywhere special. I had this
little journey with my boyfriend to Sempu last august (fyi it was on 2012) . We
went to Bromo as well, but, I’ve never loved mountain as I always love beach. Do
you still love beach? Do they still have instagram or tumblr? God, I love them
so much. They’re flooded with cut fruits or cakes in beautiful arrangement and
they're usually served on antique plates with white background or wooden table.
But, aren’t they cute? Anyway, how many times have your heart been broken? How
many times have you broken your own heart? I hope you don’t cry as pathetic as you
did in your teenage years. But, I bet you’re stronger now. I know you will. I mean, look at you, living and shit. And,
how about your health? Are you still a vegan? And hey, where
do you live? What are you doing now, beside reading this letter? Are you
making breakfast for the kids? Are you doing nothing in the middle of the
day/night/dawn as you used to? You were always such a potato couch. Are you knitting or crocheting? What have you
made from your needles? How's dad? How's mom? Do they as fuzzy as old people can be? I’m sorry I’m asking too much questions. I hope you’re
fine. I hope you can manage your emotion better. I hope you don’t make your own
drama. I hope you can decide when to take a break , when to stop and when to
start again. I hope you can be better in standing up for yourself (don’t let
people go to your queue again! EVER! And this goes for anything else). I hope
you’re healthy (by this I mean organic veggies and fruits are affordable to
you). I hope you’re smiling there. I hope you’re still alive when you read
this, cause no one knows, right? And the most important thing is, I’m proud
that you’ve lived though them all. The heart breaks, the break ups, the crashed
dreams, the death of your loved ones, the long years in college, the struggle
for your jobs, the health problem, the reality in this life, well, basically all
of them. Keep on living years ahead.
I love you.
