This heart is flowing fluid Filling the soul with Redness of bravery And rage; Pinkness of romance And lust; Orangeness of warmth And attention craver; Yellowness of glory And jealousy; Greenness of tranquility And envy; Blueness of peace And mourning; Whiteness of singularity, And fear; Blackness of mystery And death. When the soul blinks, A spectrum ray chutes down On to the ocean of mind, Illuminates what’s to solve.
Is your face dyed as your heart is dyed, Beloved? And your words Your footsteps Your breaths Touch?
Another new year with another long weekend. Added holiday—
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most of us will take a leave to have a longer break esp combined with CNY holiday — i’ve gotta start packing 😍 Happy (another) New Year! dream come true!
seeing solanum in a flower arrangement is rare blessings
It sways flexibly In stormy days. It grows calmly In sunny days. It roots perennially In the meadow.
It sings; It hums; It mutes; It sees; It hears; It touches; It tastes; It smells; In silence Perfectly.
It does well.
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these flowers survive the storm and continue living in bright days on and on and on between those two situations only through a friendship with the meadow 💝
Laughter is the breeze caressing the hair waving to the morning sun.
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A posting landed on my Instagram’s Home, it was Charlie Chaplin’s small details that are meaningful to me who love to laugh but often fail to make jokes. Most of my jokes are garing (crispy-dry, not funny; Bahasa Indonesia slang). 😁
Pink roses in a vase welcome seven cold guests, turning them to smiles.
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an innocent staff put these roses in a vase to welcome us; she said the roses were grown in the dorm garden, which we found true; what a sweet gesture 💝 (Nagano, 2014) — we should have smiled more widely to her 😁 see you again this year
Silence sits among storm, won’t sit in a temple. She’s been far away happy, leaving two love birds tweeting noisily.
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Some people don’t want happy ending for everyone but themselves and won’t stop communicating their hostility in any other way even when they know they have won the game. Oh! Perhaps they never know what victory is, they misunderstand it with justification.
Salaam…
is it the note, the clef or the heart shape or the space the illustrator wants to emphasise? many will (mis)interpret based on their own experience or even assumption, exactly like a literature which is interpreted differently and the literary person smiles wide as she knows the more interpretations are awarded to a poem, the more successful the poet is — 😘😎
Dear, day. Do you know that I never stop waiting for you? When my watch ticks a second, My heart drips a note, My pulse vibrates softly, I know I am closer to you.
Dear, day. Do you know that every part of you blesses me? When morning breaks, Noon flares, Dusk fades to night, I know the next you is waiting For me.
Day oh day Many I can’t understand, Much I can’t decipher, Little I can see, Very few I can give Yet I still hope To meet you again.
Dear, day. How I am blessed with family, Gifted with friends, Sufficed with this self, You are still the one Sung by this heart. Sunday Monday Tuesday Wednesday Thursday Friday Saturday All have been today And never faded away.
I am blessed, day With another you In the best way.
And for you I am grateful.
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as dark as serene night
as shadowy as calm dusk
as bright as each and every morning
she is well protected under the shade of glorious sunflowers 💝
dear sunflower 💕
and the white drops of details
when all glass vases are prioritised for orchid roots, fondue pot be today’s best choice 💝
all must be got rid of in order for the flower arrangement to get a spacious and “clean” background — there is always thing to prioritise; if it is not you, don’t feel bad — it’s just like that everyday so just be blessed with becoming either 0 or 1 in this binary world 💕
This life is a library Keeping all collections, Reference to public, Exclusive to a lover, One lover. The Beloved—
Read, Beloved Any scrolls In this library.
Read, Lover The diaries In the secret dungeon.
Read, Beloved With naked eyes, or With any glasses on the shelves.
Read, Lover Through letters and numbers, Shapes and colours.
Read, Beloved This library is open As long as you are awake.
Read, Lover Before you sleep When I’ll be reading you through.
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my earlier diaries are true stories through naked eyes; the later are colours, shapes, numbers, words in various styles and figures of speech needing some tricks and tips to sense layers of meanings and information — we are all writers, librarians and readers 💝
rike jokanan 
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