Posted by: juveniliare | October 23, 2009

Roten Bändern

You dream, and dream, and dream. You try to achieve them. You raise your small dainty hands up in the air and tried grasping the thin red line that was played by the wind. Sometimes you caught it, or sometimes it just missed the grip of your palm and left a thin red line that marred your hands.

You fall down on your knees. Unsure of what to do. Gazing affront, you saw people smiling with their red strings tighten in their fist. It made you wonder, why can’t I be like them?

Scrunched your eyebrows and face the blue sky decorated with red strings of dreams. Your eyeballs prickles, and sticky salty liquid rolled down from there. The sky is blue, ne..? You were crying. And you cried hard.

—————————————————-

You didn’t realize that a girl with hands knotted with red ribbons was watching you. She shyly said hi.

Through hiccups and snotty nose, you glared at her and scowled her.

Confusion shone from her bright blue eyes. She bravely asked, ‘what’s wrong? Why don’t you have ribbons in your hand?’

Ribbon, a perfectly sewed bundle of strings that signifies the manifestation of your dreams. It was colored with those bloody red you adore. The color challenges you. It reminds you with the thin red line on your hand, which was burning hot. It was mocking you for your failure of grasping the red strings. You smiled bitterly, and eyed the girl with disdain.

‘What do you think?’

—————————————————-

‘So, why crying over an already spilt milk? Cheer up girl. Its not like you sulking here.’

You eyed your best friend with those ‘absolutely fucked up’ stare. You smiled at her and told her that you are fine and allergic to milk. She stuck up her tongue and backing you while humming a horrible and tuneless song which she found charming.

In her palm, a red string that you previously reach for was bundled neatly.

Ah… The irony…

—————————————————-

Days passed.

The thin scar on you palm was fading. But it never truly disappear. Just like the other countless scar decorating your palm.

It was going to be another memento adorning your shelves piled with trophy you successfully achieved.

that’s what you get, when you learn the hard way!’

You hummed the Paramore’s song. And your life feels fine like always.

—————————————————-

A blazing red ribbon was in her hand. Tied beautifully in her hands. It was literally falling of from the palms. Your best friend’s face was beaming like the sun.

‘I made it!’

A naïve voice entered your mind.

‘I thought that was my dream…?’

You smiled at her, hugged her tightly and congrats her. While she was busy hugging you back, you were tempted to pull the knotted ribbons in her hand and watch it fading with the wind.

—————————————————-

You met the girl, again. Her red ribbon was shrewd. Strings are falling from the carefully sewed dreams.

I think now I know why you cried.’

She gave you a small smile and released the knots that tied her shrewd ribbon. Red strings blown by the wind. It was red decorating the blue.

If I try grasping them again, will I see you doing it too?’

Voice lost somewhere in the abyss. You realize that your shoelaces suddenly looked far more interesting than her dulled blue eyes.

—————————————————-

‘I hate you. .For your success on attaining your dreams. But I love you, cuz you’re a best friend a girl who’s allergic to milk can have.’

She smiles at you.

‘Took you long enough eh? I though I’ll need to drag you out from that nutshell by myself.’

You grinned back at her. And ordered two hot cappuccino and two glazed donut.

‘Put that in my tab. Its my treat today.’

Your best –bestbestBEST- friend’s smile widens.

And you realize that the one thin red scar on your hand was not aching anymore.

—————————————————-

Smile, for the senile of the naivety. Together, lets search for our red strings of dreams.

—————————————————-

This post doesn’t need to make sense. It is rather up to you to interpret who’s who, and what’s what.

You dream, and dream, and dream. You try to achieve them. You raise your small dainty hands up in the air and tried grasping the thin red line that was played by the wind. Sometimes you caught it, or sometimes it just missed the grip of your palm and left a thin red line that marred your hands.

You fall down on your knees. Unsure of what to do. Gazing affront, you saw people smiling with their red strings tighten in their fist. It made you wonder, why can’t I be like them?

Scrunched your eyebrows and face the blue sky decorated with red strings of dreams. Your eyeballs prickles, and sticky salty liquid rolled down from there. The sky is blue, ne..? You were crying. And you cried hard.

You didn’t realize that a girl with hands knotted with red ribbons was watching you. She shyly said hi.

Through hiccups and snotty nose, you glared at her and scowled her.

Confusion shone from her bright blue eyes. She bravely asked, ‘what’s wrong? Why don’t you have ribbons in your hand?’

Ribbon, a perfectly sewed bundle of strings that signifies the manifestation of your dreams. It was colored with those bloody red you adore. The color challenges you. It reminds you with the thin red line on your hand, which was burning hot. It was mocking you for your failure of grasping the red strings. You smiled bitterly, and eyed the girl with disdain.

‘What do you think?’

‘So, why crying over an already spilt milk? Cheer up girl. Its not like you sulking here.’

You eyed your best friend with those ‘absolutely fucked up’ stare. You smiled at her and told her that you are fine and allergic to milk. She stuck up her tongue and backing you while humming a horrible and tuneless song which she found charming.

In her palm, a red string that you previously reach for was bundled neatly.

Ah… The irony…

Days passed.

The thin scar on you palm was fading. But it never truly disappear. Just like the other countless scar decorating your palm.

It was going to be another memento adorning your shelves piled with trophy you successfully achieved.

that’s what you get, when you learn the hard way!’

You hummed the Paramore’s song. And your life feels fine like always.

A blazing red ribbon was in her hand. Tied beautifully in her hands. It was literally falling of from the palms. Your best friend’s face was beaming like the sun.

‘I made it!’

A naïve voice entered your mind.

‘I thought that was my dream…?’

You smiled at her, hugged her tightly and congrats her. While she was busy hugging you back, you were tempted to pull the knotted ribbons in her hand and watch it fading with the wind.

You met the girl, again. Her red ribbon was shrewd. Strings are falling from the carefully sewed dreams.

I think now I know why you cried.’

She gave you a small smile and released the knots that tied her shrewd ribbon. Red strings blown by the wind. It was red decorating the blue.

If I try grasping them again, will I see you doing it too?’

Voice lost somewhere in the abyss. You realize that your shoelaces suddenly looked far more interesting than her dulled blue eyes.

‘I hate you. .For your success on attaining your dreams. But I love you, cuz you’re a best friend a girl who’s allergic to milk can have.’

She smiles at you.

‘Took you long enough eh? I though I’ll need to drag you out from that nutshell by myself.’

You grinned back at her. And ordered two hot cappuccino and two glazed donut.

‘Put that in my tab. Its my treat today.’

Your best –bestbestBEST- friend’s smile widens.

And you realize that the one thin red scar on your hand was not aching anymore.

Smile, for the senile of the naivety. Together, lets search for our red strings of dreams.

This post doesn’t need to make sense. It is rather up to you to interpret who’s who, and what’s what.

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Responses

  1. like this one.
    still guess who you mean as the girl in here?

  2. Me?
    Omg am i wrong?

  3. Serious,i like,very like this poem.
    Umm this is a poem,isn’t it?

    You should be an english person. .but you can speak indonesia well.am i right?

    • okay… I’m a bit confused about you here. Please do tell me. Who are you again?
      Cuz it’s aint fun to chat with people you’re unaware of.

      Poem? Nope it’s not really a poem. I never really intended to make it as a poem. But glad to know that somebody have look on it more deeply than I originally created.

      Yes, I can speak english quite well. albeit the fact that I’m an Indonesian. So, who are you again?

      okay… I’m a bit confused about you here. Please do tell me. Who are you again?
      Cuz it’s aint fun to chat with people you’re unaware of.

      Poem? Nope it’s not really a poem. I never really intended to make it as a poem. But glad to know that somebody have look on it more deeply than I originally created.

      Yes, I can speak english quite well. albeit the fact that I’m an Indonesian. So, who are you again?

  4. kasdgajsk;
    i think i’m gonna cry ;____;

    • kjskfaksfdkkk… I think I luph you…

  5. i’ve told u.i’m faun.
    well that’s a fake name,of course.

    let’s be patient.i don’t ever know who are you.and u must realize that we’re just 2 peoples who meet in ur blog and i’ve made a comment so u replied it.
    like two lost people who have a cheat in the cafe when lunch break,altough don’t know each other.but they’re still can enjoy their chat time.
    can we make it through?

    well maybe u will notice that my english is bad.coz i’m brazilian.
    so you’re indonesian?

    • Trully sorry.. I thought you were somebody I knew who’s such a pain in the ass.. He likes to uses weird names (no pun intended here) and praise me for some no apparent reason and sounding like a secret admirer to me. Which sometimes freaks me out a lot..

      iyeeep. Pure Indonesian. Ooo… Brazil? Tell me something about it!! (anything will do though)

      • I KNOW WHO

  6. apology accepted.
    wew i like ur word.it seems like u’re very hating ur secret admirer?how can u hate him so much?is that mean u’re pretty?LOL.
    well i noticed that u’re still young,sorry i know that it’s not polite to talk bout age.

    bah,what am i supposed to tell u about.well yeah i’m brazilian but in fact i live on singapore.and i’ve ever stayed in indonesia too. and i think u’ve knew lot bout singapore.

    • Glad to know that :mrgreen:

      I’m an innocent high school girl *starts rummaging for ID* Its no prob to talk about age. Not like I’m a 40 years old mama.. I’m 16 and I love comic book and jappanese animation :DD And sometimes a bit random too. ANd about pretty..? Dunno about that. Telling you I’m pretty will only show I’m a narcissistic person, which I am :p

      I know little about Singapore, my bro attended college there. And you?

  7. well, i think u’re funny.
    i’m 17 and gonna be 18 next month.my dad and mom have passed out by airplane accident when i was 7.so i was leaving to singapore which i’ve cousin on there. And usually i have a trip to indonesia when holiday.
    i’ve graduated frm highschool this year,and actually have been accepted in UI.
    but i’ve my own dream,i wanna go to MIT,but noone believe that i can.
    So here i am,trying to grasp my dream.and i think now u know why do i like ur story so much.
    i just wondering that maybe sumday there will be the peoples who want to lose their dreams,so me and them could grasp it together.but as long as i had,i jst had the people who don’t believe my dreams.

    • oh mi lord… now I’m feeling extra bad for scolding you for like ten comments ago ;a;
      which part of Indonesia did you went??? I’m currently residing in Jogja, a city in the middle of the Java island. Probably one day we can meet and have a big laugh together?? 😀
      MIT as in Massachusetts Institute?? Wow! Aim high boy!! I havent really think about my future, its still a collection of jumble abstract dreams for me…

      And comic… Shonen style is the best!! Bleach and stuff like that. Though I gotta say I dont really like Naruto. Today there’s going to be a Japanese Festival in my town. I’ll make a post and dedicate it especially for ya!! :mrgreen:

      And mr biology… Nah.. He’s already somebody’s and I’m not really that interested him. He just compliment me nicely 😀

  8. i love comic too.
    what comic do u usually read?

  9. nevermind.
    it seems like i talk to much.sorry.
    well thanks,i think you can be a diplomat.cause ur english is super!
    Err,i visited bali a year ago,and jakarta about a couple months ago,but i never visit yogya before,because i speak indonesia as worst as the way i speak in english,and i usually lost,even when i just walked around.
    that’s great idea.

    Jpan fest?well just report it to me.

    it’s none of my business.
    and Tane?is that ur true name?

    • diplomat? Well thx a bunchies!

      Chuuu!!! I’m gonna burn who ever that reveals my true name!!!
      So, yeah My real name is Tane.. Whats yours?

  10. You’re welcome

    well, you can burn gecchan or maybe burn yourselves, because i found ‘Tane’ in your other post.
    just call me Jesse
    and…err
    have i said that i’m boy?

  11. wanna see i speak indonesian?
    well,let’s see
    name saya Jesse D Aragon.
    i had to spend one minute to remember how to write it.
    i’m sorry, i’m busy a couple days ago,because i must prepare for my journey to MIT.yeah i made it.
    glad to know next year i’ll be the MIT’s student.

    oh tane(can i call u with that name?) i’m still waiting for ur promise.

  12. ouma tante…..
    i’m amazing….
    wow, wow, wow.
    please give me an address of english’s article.


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