it takes years to develop your craft. do not romanticize the idea of an ‘overnight success’. be a student. grow organically. get really good. hate your work. start over. find new ways to express the same ideas. the student becomes the master. your time will come.

Iremember the look in your eyes when I told you that this was goodbye

For you, Chester

I woke up in the news that Chester passed away. I was shock and in complete disbelief. Hearing the news was a punch in my chest. My head flooded with thoughts of you and I wept. I know that this looks and sounds like I am over reacting or being dramatic but he is one of my heroes. I didn't know him personally. He’s totally unaware of my existence. We haven't met or gone into their concert (and I wish I have). I don't own any of their CDs. But I feel like I loss a friend and a brother. A part of me inside also died.

Linkin Park was one of the bands I remember in my early memory as a child. I grew up listening to their music. I remember my older cousins used to play their song on the stereo.  Me, rocking out to the loud music, unknowing with its lyrics. But I as I grow older, I appreciated it more and understand its message.

Your music helped me through my darkest times. As you and Mike tell your battles with your own demons in every songs, I am in my own battle too and I know that I'm not alone. You helped me overcome my own demons. I find comfort in your music when things get rough and confusing. I felt understood when no one else can. You taught me that my feelings are valid, that it is meant to be felt. That’s it’s okay not to be okay but we could be. You inspired us. I know for sure that you and the band (you might not even know it) but you have touched millions of lives around the world and did the same for them. You are truly a voice of our generation. Screaming darkness and angst with a shed of hope, and resilience. You spitted the word when we don't have them. You lend us your voice when we wanted to scream what’s inside of us. You embodied our wretched and misunderstood generation. We are forever indebted. Thank you very much.

But how come we didn't save you when you saved us. I really wish that you hold on for a bit. 

But we will never really know.  None of us knows what saving you needed. None of us knows his reasons, his mind. We were lucky to know his words and his voice, but that’s it. The helplessness hurts. . 

The man who told you to embrace your darkness and fight your demons has been consumed by his own. The person who urge you to hold on for a bit loss his own grip. 

PedestrianPoet on Twitter 

I quote this line from a beautiful article from Bustle by Kadeen Griffiths:

So in the wake of Bennington's death, the best way I can think of to honor his legacy is to keep fighting. To lift others up, to make them feel less alone. We can all honor his legacy by breaking the habit and finding somewhere we belong. 

I pray for your family and friends who are grieving with your passing. I hope they’ll find peace and acceptance in this difficult time.

I know that you've been through a lot and fought for long and you we're brave. Now that it is over, I hope you are finally in peace.

Thank you very much for everything. Your voice will echo for eternity. We love you and you will be missed forever. Rest in peace man. You can now join the rest of the stars in the universe.

RIP Chester Bennington 😭❤️

Don’t just sit there and waste your precious time. When you want to do something, do it right away. Do it when you can, it’s the only way to live a life without regrets.

Anonymous (via wordsnquotes)

No I’m not okay. Thank you for not asking.

(via sturzpoesie IG)

Sometimes you need to have a conversation with yourself to remember your potential is something to be celebrated rather than feared. Have a good day.

Happy new year everyone!

For what it’s worth: it’s never too late or, in my case, too early to be whoever you want to be. There’s no time limit, stop whenever you want. You can change or stay the same, there are no rules to this thing. We can make the best or the worst of it. I hope you make the best of it. And I hope you see things that startle you. I hope you feel things you never felt before. I hope you meet people with a different point of view. I hope you live a life you’re proud of. If you find that you’re not, I hope you have the courage to start all over again.

Eric Roth

What If

I usually keep things to myself, because in reality, no one really cares.

(via alterated)

Vehement noises.

I used to think that yelling is the loudest sound a human could ever do; that when my mother yelled at me because I accidentally broke her favorite figurine, it’s what echoed inside my head constantly—enough to know how to be careful with my actions. Years ago, when kids yelled at me of how different I was, it kept reverberating in my veins—enough for me to know that different is not accepted on the society. When you yelled at me because you want me gone with the wind, the sound was so caught up by my ear buds they failed to make me forget it.

Then I thought, yelling isn’t the loudest; screaming is. When I heard myself screaming away the anxiety and depression out of my body like they are visitors who came for discord. When I heard my cousin screaming her lungs out as she fell her head from the monkey bars, I thought I can never get the sound out of my head. When you left, my subconscious kept screaming over and over and I knew, this was as loud as it could ever be.

But then I found out that yelling and screaming are not the loudest sound I could ever hear; silence is. That when my mother didn’t yell, scream or anything, I felt it the most. When kids didn’t speak to me because they don’t like my oddity, I couldn’t help but hear it. When you stopped talking to me, every minute of silence is stabbing the hell out of me.

I’m tired of being hushed. I’ve been trying to leave echoes inside your head and I thought, maybe leaving is the best way to make it louder than ever.