One Day

There are things you feel.
There are thoughts you think.
There are moments you tell what you feel.
There are moments you don't. Or you can't.
There are moments you keep what you think.
There are moments you don't. Or you can't.
There are moments you wish you can tell what you feel and what you think, but then you keep.
There are moments you.......... Okay, done.

I saw a quote. "The heart wants what it wants. You met someone and you fall in love. It's just it".
I heard a sentence. "Boys want to know what girls want. Girls don't know what they want. "
It all makes sense. That's why it's always to be like that. Like a circle. Yeah, circle.

Sometimes you're happy, sometimes you don't.
Sometimes you're sad, but you're happy to be sad. It's like a drug to you.
And sometimes, ....
Yeah, sometimes.

There are many many things I wish I can figure out.
But I just can't.
I can't figure myself out.
I really can't. At least for now. I mean lately, exactly.
Like black and blue. Want some lights. Know where the light is. But have nothing to do with it.

Are these make sense?
Are these combined as a hint to me?
I wish not.
I don't wanna end up that way. The way those two films end.
Wait, why do I think it will be?
Why should I know, find, and watch those two films?
And why do I feel like they are meant to be?

There are moments when you feel lost.
When you feel insane.
Like you hate yourself for being too sad or too over-think or kind of.

Oh, dear.... There's nothing I can say.
Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
Time will heal. Time will answer.
Whoever you are dear, I miss being around you.

One day.
Will we have that one day?
Will it be the one day of our life?
When will it be?
Will it be like what I was wanted when it comes to be?
Or maybe, Will I've changed my mind when it comes to be?

I speak to no one in this poetry.
I'm just happy to be a poet.
I don't intend to tell someone. I don't intend to give clues.
This poetry is only a poetry. This poem will always just be a poem.

I do believe with the sentence "Girls don't know what they want".
I do not know what I want from writing this.
I do not know why do I write this.
I don't even know the essence of this.
Is this the way I'm expressing happiness? Or sadness? Or madness? Or gratefulness?

The more I write, seems like the more I'm going to be lost.
But there's something about the poetry. There's something about the poem.
There's something about devoting your energy, your confusion, your everything.
Poetry can sometimes heals you.

Only the arty person could feel the soul of a poetry.
Only the arty person could understand what the writer is trying to tell.
Why?
Because only the arty person who knows how it feels to be lost.
How it feels to confuse. How it feels to not really understand all of our own-self.

Sometimes God put persons to your life, to give you a sense of confusion.
And that's why He put you here in my life now. That's why He put him here too.
That's why He put you both.
It's an confusion. But sometimes confusion is what teaches you.
Let it be. Let it done. Let it. Just let it.
What you can't figure out now, you will have the answer one day.
One day, you'll get the answer.
That one day will come sooner or later.

Thanks to Dexter Mayhew and Emma Morley.
Thanks to David Nicholls. You are the real poet. I love you.
Your poetry encourage me to write (again).
Your film, "One Day" too.
Or maybe I want to be a poet? Who the hell knows?

I still remember I had a hand-written novel when I was in elementary school.
A book full of my disordered hand-written.
I intended to type it when I was in Junior High School.
When I've understood that novel is should be typed. When it's written, no one will be able to read.
Include myself. I couldn't read mine. Really.
That's why I thrown it.

I used to read novel. Not anymore.
A matter of time, tasks, and all that.
But I'll figure out your masterpiece, "One Day".
And I'll figure out my "masterpiece", one day.
Moreover, I'll figure out God's "masterpiece", "one day".