Sophrosyne

Exactly what the title said. It's been months and I'm back in Malaysia and missing Cardiff everyday.

I hope everyone's doing great. The year is nearing its end but there's still time for your own little plot twist. As for me, I just hope things stay as they are, I actually can't wait for 2018 to be over. It's been a wonderful year but I feel like I'm stuck and I can't move on. I hope with 2018 gone, all my attachment will go with it. I want to bring only memories I can carry into 2019, memories that doesn't weigh me down and burden me anymore.

At the start of the year I remember wanting to be a better person in 2018.
Looking back, I can't really say I'm a better person, but I did acknowledged certain things about myself and I'm still trying to fix it, to be better. I guess that counts for something right.

I can't wait for 2019.

Lying on the grass, waiting for sunset beside a little fountain in the park, I really love my life in these little moments

I wrote this letter hoping it will never reach you. I'm pouring my heart into an ocean of endless possibilities, singing melodies you didn't know. I hope someday I could love another like I loved you. You came crashing, like waves of saltwater and sea bubbles erasing foot steps others left on my battered heart. I found myself slowly letting go of what ifs and what could've been. I found myself loving you, I found myself loving me. Maybe this isn't love, but I'm grateful still. I learned new ways of loving when I met you, ones where you made me love myself first. Seeing you weave your way through life made me want to be happy and I think that's enough. You inspired me for greater things, simply by holding my hand along the way and telling me you believe. I could never thank you enough for existing. I hope someday I could inspire another like you did to me, such a great honour to watch someone grow into their capacity, finding galaxies in themselves. I wish you well. Wherever you are, I wish you the greatest ending.

Sometimes I feel like a walking contradiction. I could say I'm a very perceptive person, especially to people and their behaviourism. At least I think so. But somehow I'm very oblivious to people's attitudes or feelings towards me. I'm not sure if I'm actually oblivious or I've just learned to tune it all out of my head. Like there's a deeper part of me that knows but an even greater part of me choose to ignore it and just brush it off. People often told me I don't hold grudges and I have very little hate in me. I forgive easily and I don't take things to heart most of the time. I guess it's true but in some twisted way that trait turned me into someone ignorant, I'm not sure if ignorant is the right word but that's all I can come up with at the moment. Insensitive might be more accurate. Yeah, insensitive. I'm already bad with confrontation, what a great combination. Does that make me a bad person? I've been working on trying to be more considerate towards other people's feelings but sometimes certain thing just go by unnoticed. If you think I'm being inconsiderate towards your feelings, please tell me. Whatever you're feeling, it's valid. You're valid.

Soft cotton dancing in the wind, a colour so white contrasting the night. Hair tied back, eyes sharp and maybe the cotton white dress isn't supposed to look soft after all. She is part maiden part siren, a folklore told in between flickering candle lights and hushed whispers. A fairytale told through generations, of viscous creatures luring out men and killing them at sea, a tale to scare the little ones, a warning to the sailors who've ventured far away from land. She roams the ocean and rules the coves, singing sweet lullabies across seven seas. Her beauty is said to rival that of a goddess, skin glittering with scales of blue and green. She is graceful in the most dangerous way. It is believed that if she tells you her name, the sea will swallow you whole and you are forever bound. A mortal life in exchange for eternity, living alongside the undead. Of course, nobody has ever lived to tell, but those lost at sea, if lucky, will be offered her name.

Black jeans, poetry books, 5 a.m. sunrise, screaming in the rain, colourful neck ties, vintage photos, desserts, pancake for dinner, iced coffee all year long, slow Jazz and RnB, ferris wheels at sunset, hugs, that white dress of mine you loved, coke, long car rides with the windows down, red velvet cake, forehead kisses, sleeping without our shirts on, chocolate ice cream, rainbows in the rain, video games, movie dates, good morning kisses, striped shirt, painting, the moon, long walks, walking on the grass barefooted, goldfish shaped clouds, summer, red lips, long distance, sugar, babydoll, cities, ghost town, clear cloudless night sky, maple leaves, footprints along the beach, love

I often wonder, did I ever love you? Was it love or was it purely infatuation? I didn't know if I loved you or the image of you I made up in my mind. As the years go by the blind starts to fade, the perfect person I created inside my head slowly turning against me. I forgot the person didn't exist, I forgot that people are flawed in nature. 16 year old me was eager to fall in love she forgot that love alone wasn't enough, I hope someone would've told her that. Love alone wasn't enough, no communication, no tolerance no patience, love alone wasn't enough. I'm sorry I was such a horrible person. I'm still trying to learn. Loving myself and people in return.

It's the first day of spring. Sprouts of little yellow flowers covering vast green meadows. New beginning of a beautiful life. Short-lived yet so worthwhile. Have you ever thought of how flowers have a really short lifespan? They bloom and flourish only to be plucked to their death. Even in their last moments, they give so much joy to people. Beautiful and delicate, pretty little flowers. They come and go, living and dying. I wish I could live like flowers too, bringing joy to people even in my last breath. Some people want to be remembered after their death, a tale passed down generation after generation. Maybe, to be told in history books and biographies. And me? Maybe I just want to make the people around me happy.

Make no apologies for the way your voice cracked whenever it gets a little too much. You are human, as real as the touch of your skin on mine. Do not feel ashamed of the things that make you human. We're all scared in different ways, hiding behind perfect lined teeth and nonchalant laughs. It's perfectly okay to want to vomit your guts out seconds before you go up on that stage, rehearsing your words before speaking up in class or that little pep talk in your head standing in line for coffee. It's okay, you're okay. You are your own strength. People will always have something to say about how you live your life but it's important that you yourself know where you stand. Learning to love oneself is a never ending journey. You will come to realise at one point, when you think you've accepted your flaws and insecurities, it comes back in merciless waves, catching you off guard and you're back to where you started. It happens and it's okay. It's okay. Loving the little pieces that we have grown to despise all our lives does not happen in a day, it's okay. Make no apologies for loving the pieces of you that needed loving.