Peut-ĂȘtre nous n'avons pas besoin d'amour. Peut-ĂȘtre c'est une aide que nous avons vraiment besoin (Maybe we don't need love after all. Maybe help it what we really need)

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Seminyak, Bali, Indonesia
Life is merely a journey to the grave, but to make the journey become a beautiful parade or a dark mourning ceremony is all in your hand.

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nothing special. just a compilation of my feelings. feel free to read or use if it is not my own work (like song lyrics). stealing my own work will not give you any lawsuit, but please respect the owner by not taking any part of the content that is made by me without my acknowledgment and without putting my name on it. :]

August 04, 2012

24 more weeks

It's been 27 weeks since I first stepped my feet of this new land. Time had gone very quickly. 24 more weeks to go, and I have to soar again.

I remembered those days before I left in my uncertainty. Started everything from scratches, threw away all of things that bound and burdened my steps. Moving along bare, physically and emotionally. I felt so much intriguing, to leave everything behind for a new experience. But it was not a regrettable decision.

I learnt the new wilderness of the land. I learnt a new kind of pain, and a new kind happiness. I learnt the beauty of those blue eyes, and the pain of losing them. I learnt that there is always something new to learn, and that there is always something old to remember.

In this land, I discovered new things, and I also lost others. I discovered new abilities that slumbers within. I discovered beautiful hearts and souls that warm my journey. I discovered a lot more reasons to live.

However, as my wings of adventure rested and I began to be bound again by this land, soon it felt very much difficult to depart again. The wings had been very weak of an overtime rest, the soul had been very frail of the land's joy and happiness.

But I have to go. I have to soar again.

I found it painful to leave, but I have to. I found it scary to depart, but I have to. My heart was trembling of the risk, afraid of the worst, but my journey could not stop here. My journey must continue. And someday, if my wings could ever take me back to this land, then I might stay.

I had given up hope to stay, but not because I didn't believe in you. It's because I knew, I just knew that it wasn't meant to be a long rest. It was just a temporary one.

I am now 24, and in 24 more weeks these wings will be awaken from their sleep, spreading wide and proud. And it will take me somewhere only the clouds know.

And maybe, just maybe, it will take me closer to you.

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