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Jakarta, Indonesia
a sucker for city lights.

Monday, May 12, 2014


There are times when we just feel so fragile. So vulnerable. A simple blow of wind could knock you off. Making you wither and shiver. Sending a longing signal to your lonely brain. Forming a sharp thought of happiness that manages to tear you apart and leave you bleeding to your death.

Being a ghost, I imagine, must be a lot like feeling fragile. You are transparent. You have no real power. Don't even bother to try to reach for help when you know they can barely hear you.

Because you. are. a. ghost.

Your fragility does that to you.

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