and I can’t seem to bring myself out from the clutch, of you.

my muted tears are the cries that languish in the heart.

and all I miss was just the feeling, of having a truest companion.

and I was just hoping, midnight passes not like a lonely gloaming.

I can’t shut my eyes, my surroundings are moving briskly, yet no me.

I was always lukewarm for the venged emperor.

I even have the faces of rodents, oozing the glue drops.

I was unstoppable, but now the pain is lurking in the heart.

and I can’t seem to live the white fizz, the giant, the pursuer.

and my rein is falling apart, my soar of hilarity starts to crumble.

Forevermore, I live in my lugubrious silence.

[On My Bell Jar]

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to find a place in the world, to connect with your soul, to be with people who respect you as you are, is a heaven on earth. I haven’t gotten there yet, but I’m sure on my way. so what is the virtue I possess? not justice, not temperance, I am more about fortitude and prudence. Brahmavihara’s: Maitri, Karuna, Mudita, Upeksha, resonates deeply with my heart. Human, humans. To find the divine, to be with the divine, shall never be forced.

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white horses dashing to their deathbed, clashed and crashed in the castamere. 40,000 miles away from their next race. my life not their gamble, my defect not their rotten trash. love & fame & death, who in the hell is my lion? I ask, to none. love & fame ain’t free, it will demolish your blissful decades. I answer, to none.

[As a Game of Thrones’s devotee, I’d like to devote my write for The Rains Of Castamere]

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on the acre, I cultivate my fair loss. I will never be letting any bloomeries happen on this land. my dazed and stark visage gives me my most avenue. sometimes, I don’t want to be found, my mirth is evermore a transient ecstasy.

[weighs our madness with our sanity, a tribute for Perseus by Sylvia Plath]

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luna’s journal page 24;

I do realize in one year, there are always some period of time when a person feel less and more. In January they feel less worried, less sad, less stressed, more “living in the moment” thing, more excited, more contented. In November they feel less satisfied…

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Mauluna Salsabila

Mauluna Salsabila

me & my mediocre, some about tales, some about my day-to-day struggles.