I would like to write about how the cold, crisp, grey Tangerang morning makes me feel safe. In all its mists and haze, the city seems to be more forgiving of my scattered pieces and unruly thoughts.
In the soft wind that bustling intensely through the leaves, the array of contradictions that made up most of who I am feels understood and not alone. With the birds chirping in the lacklustre sunlight, it is as if the universe nudges me to carry on with living even when the tell-tale signs are telling me to un-live the day, the week, the hours that feel like years.
Where time stands still is where I feel most alive even though that’s the furthest thing from all I wanted to be.
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