“May I kiss you, then?”
“Why do you even have to ask?”
“I need your consent.” I smiled, trying my best not to show how fuck that mild lust last. That skin texture and the brownish acne scar, I’m a sucker for that.
“Do me, just do.”
And I did.
You know, having, lucky enough, encountered many bitterness in this world, I really see kindness almost like a godsend. Something unreal.
There are times when I assumed my way of doing thing’s cool but people find it sucking cheap. Not gonna lie, it hurts. I got really offended and mad. Yet, the more I contemplate, the more I see why. The thing is, I regarded myself so high so distinctive and jumbling around correcting people. I assumed it gave me superpower and satisfaction. I assumed they’ll get wowed. I assumed they’ll get hypnotized and like me, the truth is, they don’t and I’m just a big fat narcissist.
“Hey, look at me!”
I lack many but fill my bone with so much ignorance. I wanna be perfect but perfection kills. It’s like a big clear mirror. I like myself in that reflection to get better, skinnier, wiser, prettier. But sometimes, I get myself too close that I can’t even see anything. It’s just me facing my nose. It’s just me and nothing.
My perspective towards perfection changes gradually over time. Perfection is now more like an inside job. How I see the world is MY inside job.
“Tong kosong berbunyi nyaring.”
Yeah, that’s me. I like the way Tuhan rings the bell. The burns I feel every time I get offended is my warning sign, telling me to shut up and touch the ground. People are going through something. ALL of us are. There’s no need to be such an ass. Plausibly, we can choose to be kind.