Tag Archives: Word

The Dreamer



Once a dreamer, once a loser

Once a beggar on the street

Now with much power and money under his sleeve,

He forgets the humbleness in his self.


Now with everything he could buy,

He steps onto the back of poor people and let them die

He was blinded with money and material things.

He stole the only penny left for his expense.


He grew selfish and proud

Until one day he went bankrupt,

He roams outside the street begging for food and water,

Because of his rudeness, no one ever care.


Now dying, his one last wish as a beggar living in the street

That his body will be buried with a peanut seed underneath,

So when it will grow the people can eat

The fruit of his own greediness.


Once a dreamer, once a loser

Once a rich man, once a winner

Now an old man dying on the street

And a wish of a single peanut seed

To be planted on his grave.

In the Eyes of a “Suicidal”

People often misunderstood why depressed people took suicide. It wasn’t because we were weak and pathetic human beings. Suicidal people were more than just that. We were hero of our own suffering. In our lives, we were the giver, the most misunderstood and the  most mistreated. You don’t know about our story. You just know, that people like us, kill ourselves because we give up on what life could gave to us, or because we were plainly stupid. You didn’t even know what we were going through. Even the cuts in our hands weren’t enough to tell you how we really feel. Everyone has a story to tell and it doesn’t mean that someone was depressed, they were already weak. The truth was we tried. There were always a point in our lives when we regret what we were doing and there were points in our lives when we told ourselves, “We can do it.” But because of some “inconsiderate” and “judgmental” human beings that instead lift us, put as even more into the depths of depression, and because of how the events was turning, we decided to push it through.

Depression wasn’t just because of stress, problems and anxiety. It also covers the emotional and mental state of the person. There were deeper reasons why we kill ourselves and one of those was you. If you wanted us to stop it, then give us a helping hand, support us and understand. We were just an imperfect human being like you. Fighting depression when everyone was contributing nothing was pretty hard. I can compare it to a cancer that once spread in the body, doctors have had harder time to cure it.

That’s how we see suicide. I repeat, we were not pathetic, nor stupid, nor weak. WE were just people with incurable disease. Please stop judging because it wasn’t your life to begin with. Who knows? Maybe at some point in your life you will feel the same? Who knows maybe you’ll understand how we really feel inside and who we really want to be.

Suicidal people weren’t crazy. We were mostly the people who were happy and easy to please with but at the same time, has the biggest regret. We regret how things turn into us and why we can never control it? Why every time the problem was solved, there were even more bigger problems to come. We don’t need your opinions and advises. WE need your ears to listen and eyes to open how “suicidal” people like me cope with idealistic standard of the society.

Part 4- The End

Part 3-Sealed Fate

Part 2-A Painful Reunion

Part 1-The Exile

She tries to scream. Pain. It’s everywhere. In her, on her; everywhere. A constant pressure weighing down on her; unwavering. Tears flow down her face as she surfaces to consciousness. Adan has pushed the wolf off of Mary. This pain is like a tidal wave ready to crash over the girl; ready to destroy her.
Her teeth clench together to stop herself from voicing how the pain burns like fire in her chest, detonating in her skull with each beat of her heart. Her mind screams for the agony to stop. She curls into a ball, covering her head as her fingers tear at her bloodstained, blond hair. Her limbs convulse as a stabbing pain knifes through her from the inside. Small, pitiful whispers of pure, white-hot agony slip past her lips without consent. Death was coming for her, and it would come as a blessing. She closes her eyes, waiting for it to take over; needing this to end. Her body convulses yet again, and she cries out.
Suddenly, a hand grabs her own, causing her to focus on it and the soft voice whispering to her. His voice. Her pounding heart calms, but barely, for another wave of agony shoots through her like a bullet out of a gun. She clings to him with both hands; grasping for the thin thread of life she has left, gasping for air that is no longer in her lungs. She feels him pull her close; cradling her in his arms. She focuses on his words; they are drawing her into a calm bliss. Her screams fade to whispers as she clings to his shirt while his arms hold her. Both the young man and his love are shaking terribly, the pain threatening to drag them both under once more. He knows he will lose her. Mary breathes once. She feels Adan wiping the fevered sweat from her brow, his hand gentle and cool to the touch. He whispers her name, telling her it’s ok to let go; she does not want to. She barely manages to whisper her answer, choking up with pain. She won’t give up; not now, but she know better than anyone that she is done for. Mary feels him nod silently as he strokes hair slowly, running his fingers through the snarls gently. It calms her. She tells him to not let her fall asleep with a quivering voice, but her eyes grow heavy. The pain is unbearable, and she feels herself slipping from consciousness. She hears him whisper that he loves her; Mary faintly feel Adan shaking as his head rests on hers. She reaches out to comfort him as she feels his tears fall on her face, but her hand slips from his, and then all fades to black.
Adan sobs loudly holding her body. Mary is gone. And so is his child. He has lost everything, and he is stranded in these woods without another soul in the universe knowing where he is. He is wounded badly, his leg twisted and bent at awkward angles, the bone protruding from the skin, blood swiftly emptying from his veins as his heart pumps it out of him.
Weakly, Adan gently moves to grab his knife away from Mary. Clutching the hilt with both hands, he weighs his options:
If he survives? A life without Mary, their baby, and constant pain?
If he ends it here and now there would be no pain, only bliss?
Sighing, the heartbroken boy wipes his tears away and puts the knife in his coat while fighting off the dizziness that fills his head as he tears apart his shirt. Cutting off the circulation to his leg will have to work, even if it meant losing it. He will survive, he thinks to himself determinedly. He will survive for her.