6eez, louise

26 this year. going through mountains of recollection, mistakes, ideas, skin and shell to find that bucket-list i had unintentionally buried deep. if i tried to piece the list together just how i'd wanted it at 16, honestly im not sure how much i'd align with it. i have evolved big time as a person but i know for a fact a lot of my concern would be straightened if i go back to my core. to know if i still find joy in yesteryear things, i need to first do the thing. 

see the world

-backpack around the globe on bicycle/train

-stay in hostels, meet other backpackers

-journal the journey via photos/writings

sky diving

scuba diving

run a marathon

get a job on an island

dreadlocks

learn and ride a superbike

master skateboarding

be a guitarist in a band

better football player

climb a mountain

experience shibari suspension

basically just anything that fuels the adrenaline and gives a whole lotta feel good i can do anything hormones. i miss being active and unshakeable. living with such courage and passion and always moving. one of my senses got overstimulated, but here i am trying to balance it again.

titik, kosong

when i try to think outside the realms of my usual mind direction, i see that stationary void and imagine its strong gravitational pull. the weight of navigating wits puts a load on my intellect [though stimulating it may be]. the easiest exit is to envision my subserviency towards the blackhole and walking towards that comfort, becoming an ally once again. 

who is doing the walking and who is telling to stop?

point. blank.

5, vertigo

Destined as the servant to the night where your moon dreams of the dirt and the sharp tongue of your zealous will is only congruent with the salt in your mouth and the approaching eulogy of the world. 

Lost in the patterns of youth and the ghost of your aches comes back to haunt you. 

And the forging of change makes no difference.
Memories fly through the mask of your life shielding you from time. 

The years that birthed the shell that you gained. 

Hunched over in apathetic grief with a disregard for steps except the one taken back. 

Perched up on a rope crafted in smoke / a sword wielding death that buried your hope.
Focusing on light through the blinds. A slave to reality under a monarch in the sky.
Lost in the patterns of youth where the windows shine brightly back at you.

-deafheaven double eulogy, retracing '17

mechanical conception

when you breed only to kill later

such an awful feeling. how do you stay alive on a grave?

Sakti, my Little Bean.

Sakti, my Little Bean.

I paint you in pretty colours and handsome notes

How you came bathed in red

Some days those colours they dance for me to the tune of your heartbeat

And some the reds come washing

I keep you in a vessel, but it's not big enough to contain your spirit

Neither is the sea for you to roam and my pains to flow 

The waters remain blue and green, but the winds

My god the winds

Their violence came to take you away gracefully

I miss you Sakti

Your fleeting presence touched my deepest being, 

and i devote to finding my way to you in perpetuity 

For home is you, not me

I laid drunk on the concrete on the day of your birth

In celebration of all you were worth

Like a moth to a flame unearthed

<3