Life’s but a walking shadow, Shakespeare wrote.


If there’s no other way.

If there’s nothing that can make these obsessions go away.

Then nothing in this world could make me stay. 


I have a date in mind, and that’s March 3, 2019, my original plan since I was in the process of writing my second poetry collection. I guess this is my fate and I have 122 days left on this blue planet of ours.

Sometimes I wonder what’s beyond this human existence. I hope it will be lovely. But there’s always an idea in the back of my head that there’s nothing. It will be like fading into an eternal sleep where I’ll never wake up.

Suicide is now my shield for suffering. I’ll focus on the things that matter to me before I depart. In the end, I’ll always be alone, and it’s better to die alone peacefully than to live alone and forever stand at the edge of insanity.


Life will be over before I know it.

Five Months


We’re five months now.

May 25, 2018, was one of the happiest moments in my life when you became my girlfriend. 

Sometimes it feels like you’re more than just a girlfriend. 

You’re like my lighthouse when I get lost in my sea of uncertainties. 

You’re like my observatory when I forget to breathe and look at the stars. 

You’re like my museum when I forget to appreciate the meaning of beauty and art.

This month has been a rough ride for me. Endlessly searching for a light at the end of this eternal tunnel and it is only when you hold my hand when I feel safe inside this darkness that I sometimes think is my home.

The truth is home is wherever you and I are together. Sometimes home is sadness. Sometimes home is madness. But always home is wherever you and I are together through thick and thin and everything that comes in between you and I.

Nothing can ever tear us apart, and that’s what I’d like to believe in. Because a universe without you in it is a universe where everything is meaningless, and nothingness becomes something I’d carry for the rest of my life, and you are the rest of my life.

I still have so much to know about you, and you still have so much to know about me. But as the poet Rumi once wrote “Reason is powerless in the explanation of love” And I just love you because you are you along with an infinite number of little things that makes me feel like this life can be beautiful despite my mental illness because I am loved by the prettiest, loveliest and most brilliant girl that I know.

Life is suffering, as Nietzche wrote and you are one of the meanings that I keep safe to survive. I love you, Camille and that will never change. I hope you read this and know how much very much you are. And I will always be here for you my one and only love.

A Love That Always Feels Like Autumn


The weather is getting cold
and she’s sitting near the furnace—

Reading sad books,
as she unties her tied shoelace.

A love that always feels like autumn—
is the feeling she always gave me.

Dead with the hope of being born again—
her kiss on my neck that drives me crazy.

The way she drinks her coffee
is one of the sexiest things I like to see.

The way she says my name
is the thing that convinces me that it’s meant to be.

A love that always feels like autumn—
is the feeling she always gave me.

Dead with the hope of being born again—
the taste of laughter in her mouth that makes her lovely.