graphs of my Universe
Orange, Beloved,
Mixture of red and yellow;
Calmly encouraged
—
Orange is the color of joy and creativity. Orange promotes a sense of general wellness and emotional energy that should be shared, such as compassion, passion, and warmth. Orange will help a person recover from disappointments, a wounded heart, or a blow to one’s pride. (excerpted from BournCreative)
Thanks for today.
💝
Good fruits, Beloved,
Fresh, crunchy and colourful
Carved on her sweet smiles.
—
It’s a blessed night: fresh for the rain.
Nocturne, Beloved,
Desert at velvety nights;
Her hair is waving,
Where pitch and rhythm dangle
Sprinkling tones of a warm heart
—
Night is a sweet shelter that never complains whether I snore or sing or cry or laugh or play or work or just sit on the window nook.
Serene….
Equal, Beloved,
Weighing process and result
To find the unknown
—
Some Math teachers would be very particular about whether 6 is 3×2 (2+2+2) or 2×3 (3+3) in students’ homework. Conceptually mathematicians consider those two operations different. Yet to me as long as we find the solution, why catch a bullet and die?
🥰
Fly free, Beloved.
Go home when you understand
That you’re peace itself.
—
Dream is but a dove flying free and to go home when knowing who it is.
May all beings be happy,
Earrings, Beloved,
Catching envelops with wings
Flapping happily—
—
Dangling earrings are lovable! They give beautiful noise like songs of angels.
May all beings be happy. 💝
Blue sky, Beloved,
Where clouds swim before the rain,
Dreams play on the swings—
—
Bring me home to rest before next destination.
Thank you for the blessings. 💝
Home – Jul 31, 2022/19:46
Align, Beloved.
Don’t let conditions rule you.
That feel good is good!
—
Feeling good is good. Feel good from morning wake-up until night dose-off.
Thank you!
The joy, Beloved,
Prancing light and smiling bright;
Warm heart fills the air.
—
Look around. Message is everywhere.
Garden, Beloved,
Where word playful finds its vibe;
The world as it does—
—
It’s been either raining or working for the past two weeks and I haven’t gone biking or walking again. How I miss seeing the children play as if only game is there in life, adults jog or walk racing with the wind to get rid of fat, elderly chat as if only words can extend their life, lovers show affection as if the world belongs to them and others rent, the birds fly home chirping high tone thanking for today’s, mosquitoes start buzzing to hunt sugar, once in a while fish hop up to breath the raw air, dragonflies perch on the green grass without moving!
Maybe next week! Yes!
Listen, Beloved,
Humming angels keep singing
Song of union.
Ears can’t hear, too low a voice.
Heart can, swayed by the wind though.
Root deep, Beloved.
The song vibrates in the earth,
Making grass and flowers bloom,
Brightening up the meadow—
Listen, Beloved.
—
It takes enormous patience to listen to the silence. Hey! Is it being patient or simply allowing quietness to sit where birds and monkeys are hopping and making noise?
Listening is a skill. A skill needs practices to mastery. Mastery takes time. Time takes breathing, in, out, with awareness.
—practicing listening mode on—
The wings, Beloved,
Grown from fluid that fasts and sleeps;
Perching butterfly—
—
I call it journey, you call it metamorphosis. I call it idea, you call it egg. I call it maturity, you call it a born chrysalis. I call it manifestation, you call it developed butterfly. I call it love, you call it commitment. I call it this, you call it that. We look one thing from different points of view and describe it with different disciplines. In fact we are talking about the same thing.
Then….
You see a butterfly perching on my shoulder, I see a messenger bringing me a love letter from my beloved telling me:
“Hello, my love. Relax. You are safe. I’m here with you.”
A name, Beloved,
Sound of rustling, not the leaves;
My mind sees leaves though.
—
After more than two years, we finally gathered here for a dinner that was misunderstood. Most of us thought it was Thai food seeing the name of the restaurant “Thai Village” but then we found it was Chinese food restaurant that has been here for more than 20 years.
It didn’t matter at all! Just no pork for me. And the talks and laugher did matter much more to all of us.
Oh, name…. You’re not my beloved but you can bring my beloved here. 💝
Thanks for the rendezvous!
Woman, Beloved,
Toughness in art of beauty—
Eyes only see skin.
—
The word “soul” is “nafs” in Arabic, its gender is feminine. It gives me a strong hint that being born as a woman is never a coincidence to me. The feminine quality that is naturally attached to woman is the one grammatically (at least in one oldest language with meticulously accurate vocabulary to attribute meanings), culturally, spiritually attached to the soul too and it should be a good sign that it should not be difficult to sensitively connect to the spirituality rather than to physical (badaniyyun in Arabic) whose original gender is masculine.
Woman, qualifying herself with femininity means strengthening her natural gift and getting closer to the Soul through spirituality.
Weekend is almost over. Next week is physically and intellectually tough. Hope this shallow spirituality can strengthen me in some way.
Welcome, new week! I need to gift you a bucket of alfatihah to calm down. 💝
Witness, Beloved,
Umbrella in rainy days,
Locked door in dark nights—
—
Still celebrating my hair!
Not every woman likes growing long hair. I do love it. I did short hair in some period of time: senior high school when short hair gave privilege to be called “not too girl” and some recent years when busy days took away the hair time.
Now the long hair period has claimed its prime time back and ready to witness the joy shared by its owner.
May all beings be happy.
A lady is walking to the lake.
An empty clay jar sits on her waist.
Her hair is hanging loose,
Listening to love songs, waving to the sky.
Sitting, she looks down
Saying hi to her reflection on and on.
My hair, thanks for growing long
And for listening to my love songs.
A lady is walking back to home.
A clay jar full of water sits on her waist.
Her hair is waving by the wind:
Spreading patchouli fragrance, calming down the lane.
Walking, she looks forward
Humming her best love songs.
My hair, thanks for spreading good scent
And making my life so fragrant.
My hair, thanks for being silken
And keeping this flame ardent.
My hair, grow grow long.
My hair, listen to these love songs.
My hair, stay here
Until home is welcoming me.
—
Each and every one deserves love and appreciation. Today I took longer time to scrutinise and caress my hair; this stubborn tough protein deserves love and appreciation, too.
A hymn for my hair is not too much, an extra love after shampoo to clean, conditioner to soften and sometimes hair dye to match the mood.
I’m lost, Beloved.
This market keeps me busy.
What time is it now?
—
One friend said to me that I might be lost. What she meant by lost is I’m not as good as she is at interpreting ultimate truth and looking less than I was before.
If that’s the definition of lost then I’ve been lost since decades. I’ve never been truly right — or found? 😁
There are patches of time in life when my honesty is tested within. Am I loyal to myself? Am I caring about my own wellbeing? Am I aware of to where I’m heading? Am I aware of what I’m doing? Am I aware of the configuration of individuals around me? And am I aware of what’s beyond all these (divine entity, higher power, gods, God, universe, life, whatever you call it)?
Each of those questions should be answered at least “more than half yes” —let’s put 80%— because “full yes” is impossible except for those with high intelligence (not about IQ, intelligence is the naturally-attached awareness of being a well-developed human being). And when my yes is below 80% that is when confusion will lead to another confusion to another confusion until there is one question answered at least more than half.
If loyalty to my self is only 40%, I will have to shop for 40-60% outside in order to achieve 80-100%. I will crave for validation from others offline and online. Lack of self trust and honest self reflection is my personal indicator. Virtually number of likes, followers, subscribers, comments in popularity-based social media have become both blessings and curse with which external validation is quantified and a group of people are willing to do anything literally anything to be popular. FYI, there will be an alternative social media highlighting both merit and popularity, symbolic.id hopefully can balance popularity with utilitarianism.
If I care less about my well-being, others will have to take care of me. If no one takes care of me, I can feel sick, messy, frustrated, helpless, lonely. There was a period of 10 years of abundance that I didn’t take care of myself and that was enough!
If I am not aware of to where I’m heading, I will just follow wherever my peer head to. Good peer improves integrity. What about if I’m not aware of what kind of peer I’m associated to. With bad companions, I might excessively drink, abusively drug, irresponsibly sex around can be up to extreme of commit crimes.
If I’m not aware of what I’m doing, I might hurt myself or even at the same time hurt others. Hurting is undoubtedly. Hurting doesn’t always come through bad intension, it can come through priority. So when I’m aware of a priority and I unintentionally hurt others, it is almost forgivable. It is truly forgivable when I’m doing it right or possibly with a style.
If I’m aware of the configuration of individuals around me, it will be more convenient to map out how I do what I want to do to, for and with whom. Priority, target and impact become triangulation to be balanced of. Human interaction is important, yet I don’t want to give up my dignity just to get along with random people only for fame or temporary pleasure. I’m not that young anymore, I don’t mind being fun but responsibly and crazy but gracefully. 💃🏽
And if I’m aware of what’s beyond all these, I would not fall too low because of despair or fly too high because of pride. There is always a perceived limit as consequence of awareness about this ultimate power; playing water gets wet, playing fire get burnt, my freedom is limited by other individuals’ boundary that I have to respect. This is where many people think I’m totally lost when I’m lost; they think I lose control and/or give up humbleness. Nope! In fact I’m always aware that there is a limit that I can’t even accurately prescribe and perceive in life. I can only plan, not decide the outcome. In this section I have 100% yes, just sometimes feel jealous why this power never gives me full control.
So am I lost? Let people think the way they do. I just have to be alert when ALL or MOST of those questions have lower yes answer because that’s when I’m not sufficiently developed as a human being, I’m not enough self-well-defined.
When “lost” or more suitably “wandering”, I’ll spend some time to sit down in the middle of crowded mind doing nothing saying nothing just observing what all those birds and monkeys are doing; while breathing counting the time….
I love being me with dreams and wishes that might not all come true because of limit that can suddenly emerge. Yeah! You higher power that always meddles in my affairs. ☺️ Please always side with me. 💝
Ahhhh what is this? A long ranting after getting teased of “lost to be found”.
Some beats, Beloved!
Let’s dance under this night rain!
Gotta get thru this!
💃🏽
A dream, Beloved,
A bloom of sleep or a sign?
Each has drawn a smile.
—
Sometimes a dream brings me to an immediate mood of contacting a friend. Last night I dreamt of someone who has set a strong boundary against me. I dreamt of this person surrounded guarded almost like being swarmed by many tough guys and beautiful ladies; becoming the top of all! Waking up this morning, I decided to text this person who has blocked me in WhatsApp (of course I made mistake as the reason) and summarised my dream— what I didn’t tell was that those guys and ladies in my dream rigorously chased me away. And as expected of course no reply; maybe another anger and frustration against this ridiculous me 🙃
Then I prayed that this friend is enjoying the best time of life; which must be happening now.
I’m still smiling remembering the dream. How could it be such dream? Scary yet entertaining! I must have been traveling to a multiverse! Maybe it was a sign about a raising boundary; or simply because I was too tired!
Thanks for the dream.
The sky, Beloved,
Layers of defined arches
Limiting a range—
—-
Have you ever thought about limit?
What is limit? Who/what has limit? Who/what has no limit? Which is the limit? How to set a limit? Questions that have haunted me for almost all my life! I tried to formulate the answers for almost 20 years and yesterday —just yesterday— a convincing answer reached me like a tap on my shoulders. One of the answer is that with this limitation I can do something that the one with no limit can’t. 💝
This hopefully be a breakthrough in my life.
Thank you!
I’ll rant about the mind blowing answers from a young scholar. Not today; someday when I find the most suitable dictions.
Welcome, new week!
Listen, Beloved,
Dandelion seeds detach.
Wishes in the dark—
—
Listen, Beloved,
To leaf landing on water.
The sun is blinking
—-
Love makes heart full.
Love makes heart empty.
Love makes heart laugh.
Love makes heart cry.
Love makes heart closer.
Love makes heart distant.
Love makes heart trust.
Love makes heart distrust.
Love makes heart bloom.
Love makes heart wither.
Love makes heart healed.
Love makes heart broken.
Love makes heart warm.
Love makes heart cold.
Love makes heart enlightened.
Love makes heart blinded.
Love makes heart beautiful.
Love makes heart wicked.
Love makes heart bright.
Love makes heart weary.
Love makes heart sing.
Love makes heart scold.
Love makes heart write love poem.
Love makes heart compose hate speech.
Love makes heart recite ballads.
Love makes heart scream hoax.
Love makes heart look foolish.
Love makes heart look angry.
Love makes heart love more.
Love makes heart hate more.
Love makes heart swing like a pendulum between two ends.
You say love is
You say love is not
You ask what is love
Love makes space
To those willing
To feel,
To taste,
To experience
Millions of what’s-nots
To know
The what-is.
We decide
Which space
To be filled
With what.
This is about love—
An unlimited edition
But still
Difficult to grab.
—
Mr Sun’s hiding
Behind curtains of colours.
This brain cheats the eyes.
—
Ah! What is before these eyes isn’t always what is. It doesn’t matter; although it is not what is, it is still what is when it is clear what is not.
Bumpy road of saying no before finally saying yes is a long battle, a long journey to win the best throne of this heart. Know it and accept it.
Salaam. 💝
Though not a true ID,
Your name ships all senses to
An existence.
A name that I spell slowly,
A name representing silence and unattendance,
Almost ignorance.
Is
Your name
A password
To where a gap between real and unreal resides?
Is
Your name
A padlock
With which a visitor busily matches the key?
Is
Your name
Sugar leaf
With which a cup of tea gets sweetened with its dissolving?
Is
Your name
Coffee powder
Which settles at the bottom of a cup after its releasing caffein and acidity?
Is
Your name
A myth
That resembles history?
Tell me
The story of
Your name.
Your name
That
I slowly spell
Every time
A face flickers
Around this nerve system.
—
Indeed a name isn’t a true ID. The ID is more than just the given name.
This love, Beloved,
A battle to win the heart
Zooming in and out—
—
How distant are we? Never away, just the lines and dots that project substantial distance. Once perspective is well understood, near far is never an issue as all are cluster of objects in the same dimension.
Yet how well is perspective projection can be accepted by this foolish brain?
Not easy to do it well. It is to play the focal length. It is a long battle to win the heart; is it my heart? Or your heart? Or both? It depends on what the computation is based. Can only wish it is based on mathematics that contains literature for accuracy without beauty kills hope. And living without hope is walking zombie.
💝
You
Have got everything:
A sweetest smile,
A cheery hello,
A loving look,
A warm hug,
A good kiss
All in loving care.
Yet in all daydreams of closeness and connection….
I wish to give
You a warm kiss,
Yet impossible
As
You are too high
Up the sky;
I hope to give
You a pretty daffodil
Yet unlikely
As
You are too disguised
Behind the curtain;
I want to spread for
You a good breakfast
Yet too early
As
You wake up too late
In another day;
I want to paint
You a red torii
Yet too trivial
As
You know torii much
Better than me;
I am writing
You secret love poems
Yet in vain
As
You don’t even care
They exist.
Beloved,
Breath is with what I count life.
Breath is in what I save love.
Breath is on what I paint faith.
A warm kiss,
A pretty daffodil,
A good breakfast,
A red torii,
And secret love poems
Have livened this breathing
Although
You have got
A sweetest smile,
A cheery hello,
A loving look,
A warm hug,
A good kiss
All in loving care.
Beloved,
I only wish
You behind the curtain
See me breathing
For and with
You.
—
This long weekend of Eid Al-Adha is turning to brighter space with slow breathing, daydreaming and chili party.
Happy Eid Al-Adha, family and friends. Hope we are blessed with closeness and connection with the Source of Love.
Alhamdulillah 💝
I’ll send
You postcards.
Cards with white flower
On white paper
And some messages
On white ink
That will glow
When
You bring it to the dark.
Only
You and I know what it is
Until one day
You bring the light
To burn it or frame it.
—
Dear you…. 💝
Wishing, Beloved,
Upon a star where dreams sit
Waiting to be picked
One by one to the bucket
Before the steps reach the home—
—
Many dreams look so much near. Places to go on earth displayed in Pinterest lengthen the list and be a good escape for mind every weekend before dosing off. Can only wish that the lengthened list lengthens the life, pushing the EOL later and later— 🤗
Some dreams can’t even be described…. You are as near as far away…. 🙃
Happy weekend. Oops long weekend.
Sketches, Beloved
Turning imagination
To the sensible
That won’t last longer than life;
Let go from the very start—
—
Sometimes I asked myself “what will happen to all these sketches when I die?” 🫥 Not easy to answer until I realised what I have done to most of my mistakes: let go.
🤡
rike jokanan 
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