any cure for a drifter???

“we dont need a drifter!” was my supervisor comment one day for my lack of focus. And i do wish i can just muse the whole day and nite and no need to feed my stomach and pay the roof for my shelter.

so, is there any cure for a drifter? to be able to fulfill the living obligations? i know i can not be a robot.


random thoughts (of the weekend)

Last weekend was great, friday nite hanging out with regular travelers community (dinner, Gelato attack, the beach party), went back home early (or late?) for short nap to wake up early to join Beach Fun Run (3K), then off to work few hours afterward, then another beach activity (wanted to body-board ( it maybe my own created verb =D ) but too lazy and just stunned with the fact how freaking crowded the beach was, made me wanna write instead), met a fellow writer who is also in the same travelers community caught up in the discussion about books (which is endless if we didnt stop), then off for fresh fruit juice at the food market (managed to gather more crowds of friends), dinner later, and ended the saturday with taking shelter from the rain.

Start the Sunday with big headache in the morning, killed the pain with a pill to meet my 86 y.o. boss to discuss further about making a travel book project ( his eyes seem to always look so bright when he sees me and big smile and keep saying “always so happy to see you” , this kinda give me moral burden not to disappoint him), the Sunday hightlight was gotten our selves rolled by the waves at one of my favorite destination for sunset, expected to dip my self in the cool sea water while watching the sun setting under, but wave’s smash was even better, got tired we went up to the cliff and paid expensive local coffee just to get the perfect view of the sun setting (dunno how and or why this everyday phenomenon seems to be so special, but i love to be captured in its beauty), dinner was great, ended the Sunday by visiting a sick friend.

What amazed me the most, thought that made me smile the whole time, was that i only hang out with this group of friends only recently (I have my usual group of friends, so to speak), and how different they are, been entertaining my self by reading each one of them, listen to them without skepticism, take some personal notes of characters. And somehow i heard my self saying : see! you still can do it! I admit i did have some skepticism toward some of them, but i dont like it when i start judging people and expect them to be who i like to be with, so i decided to give it try, to make my self see and act otherwise, not judging and no expectations.

And voila! I have the super fabulous weekend with new cool people!!!      


possesed (his words and mine)

In the morning

madness melts away,

making room, even more

creating space as

fear becomes me,

running, stumbling inside

along the panic line

i scream but


disperse the sound

into dust

i want to cry but

my eyes forgot how


in escape-

proof minefields

fallen prayers form

blinding tears,

tear me on

my knees, tear

my soul out,

hurt, the fury in,


no exit

i should have burst

into pieces but

my soul refuse to

give in

No laughter

except for the

scornful longing

for it

to stuff it down

your throat,

within this walls

it’s safe to be


slightly deranged,


emotionally broke,

erased and


distance and proximity

like love and hate,

no more longing

except for the pure


and i wish

that i can go back


inside womb

the hearts are just one

beyond the fence

the moon is blue, sky gleams from green to orange, stars are hanging swinging on silver thread, making sharp clink in harmony with the wind whistle

beyond the fence

she rides a red dragonfly and races with the fairies; she never be alone; paddling on clear purple lake with the golden fishes swimming under

beyond the fence

on the highest cliff, facing burning pink horizon, at dusk, she would stand still with her dreamy gaze, as if she could see

over the fence

the moon is soft monochromatic grey; sky reflects the moody sun; stars stick beautifully as blinking dot above

over the fence

she’s dancing with a guy, looking so fine; by the sea they would then kiss; and the sparks would turn into tranquil blue flame as they make love

over the fence

on the quite beach facing the burning pink horizon, at dusk, she would sit still with her dreamy gaze as if she could see



clear hazel line