What's up Selena ?

Prologue: Who Am I ?

The diary I had held for three days, I never opened one. And today I decided to open the page in the hope that there is an answer to a question that maybe only the owner of this red book has. And I started reading it.

LIE

I woke up from my dream last night

The light without light

I was confused by the void

The dark one has light

Not that I didn't realize

Not that I don't want to be conscious

This day is tired

Not just tired

I could just keep quiet and keep quiet

Speak according to their circumstances

Because I'm too withered to thrive

Because I was too scared to fight

This is true fake

Right this is wrong

Even though I'm not a justification

But I am the truth

“Bohong” is the title, I was surprised when the first sheet I opened about a poem that made me guess what it meant, I was surprised, is it about the author's lies or those he intended or the lies about me. I had to read next to find the answer to the question.

This book is very charming in my opinion, the author's handwriting really looks soft. I see the author in his handwriting. Smooth and soft is the picture of the author in my mind at this time. Want me to see the real look and find out who the owner of this nameless red book is and ask him directly about everything.

The more I open the sheet, the clearer is the feeling of grief in this initial sheet. So many poems about the state of lara, so sick when reading it. Is this the author's real feeling, is this the sense of the answer I'm looking for, so bitter and depressing. I want to not open another sheet, because I am afraid that this article will cause more pain, but I have to read it, because all the answers are here.

IS THIS A SIN ?

I've wowed all the visions

It glittered so beautifully, the eyes that looked on

I radiate compassion in the embrace

Calm cool, for the servants

I know this is wrong and always wrong

But I'm caught between all the snares

Can't get out because I made the snare

He said the beginning I made was a sin

Am I sinning ?

That's what they always say

And I always said that what I did was a sin

But I'm not a sinner

All of this is just an illusion I created

For him who causes grief in the dress of likes

Sinner, those words have pierced the recesses of my heart, painful but true, whether I am the sinner is not the author and why the more I read them is not the answer I find but another question. Whether this book is the answer, or this book is the question and I am still very confused, how is this, I can no longer bear with everything, but I must keep reading this book until it is finished.

I reopen the next page, it's still about poetry and it's more hollow. The more I read the more empty. Is this feeling of emptiness the problem of everything, and I can only find the question again. I opened and read again the sheet by sheet and I found writing but not a poem but a letter from the author to him that made my tears fall when reading his name, namely Ghandi.

To Ghandi

Greetings from me that always wait.

I hereby declare that there is no more silence for all the words you have given Mila. I have apologized enough for all the sins you have committed. It's true Mila is innocent but she's a sinner because you've brought my snare to her.

I can't break this noose, too many are entangled in Ghandi. Every night I cry because Mila is always looking for me, holding me accountable for the snares I make, while you go spread my snares without thinking that I'm too tired to join your game. We end everything Ghandi, only the two of us can stop him, because Mila is nobody.

And I want to admit it, Ghandi

And you have to admit that we are different

Why is Ghandi's name in this letter, who is Ghandi in question, whether it is Ghandi I know or Ghandi I never know. And who's mila?, why are there so many questions I find. And the words of the sinner were repeated again, making my tears even louder. What the author wants to say about all my questions. And Ghandi's name that reappeared after two years ago left me without answering all the questions about the beginning of it all.

God help me, I don't know why I'm always stuck in the shadow of all these and that questions. What to do and why I feel that I am a sinner. I had to strengthen myself to read this book all, because they wouldn't let me know the answer.

The more I moved the page, the more Ghandi and Mila were named, the more stories about the three of them, the writer's story about Ghandi's hopes and about Gandhi's hopes for Mila. But this article is not about the love triangle story, because only the author and Ghandi have the story, while Mila is the main character in other stories that are just passing through in the story of the two of them.

I want to be honest that the figure of Ghandi told by the author is very beautiful, in contrast to my Ghandi who has gone, my Ghandi figure is much darker. But why when I read Ghandi's name that comes to my mind is only my Ghandi and makes my tears fall because I remember him back.

Greetings from me who always pretends

Mila, what news?, that question I never asked you for miles. I'm a coward for looking too far away. I once decided that I wanted to get closer to you, but I couldn't, because Ghandi was always present among us.

Mil for me you're wrong, and I'm the truth. But why do I feel guilty when the word sorry never said from you to me. Mil I'm tired of this noose loop. I want to break it a mile. I want you to go back to your story and be the main character, but Ghandi never wants to be, because you have his hopes for miles.

Now it's too late for miles, it's too late for miles.

I decided to stop

What the author wants to say in this book. Why he wanted to stop, what the author had done, so I had to find the answer to my question in his book. So far there is no story in this book, I'm just someone else reading someone else's story in search of answers to my own. This I can't continue, because the more I read the more depressing it gets and I'm afraid when the wounds in this book open up too deep in my wounds that I've been hiding for so long.

I closed the red book again, and as usual I could only ponder and think about what the answer was. The question that keeps on going in my head and always leads me to search for the truth. But anyway I tried and I was tired. Whether I should just give up or keep looking for answers that never were. But my mom wanted me to read this red book to the end, because the answer was in it. I decided to reopen the red book. I just hope to find the answer soon.

For myself

For myself

For myself

From me who was never me

Good night to myself, thank you for helping me to break this noose. Breaking off everything I've been working on all this time. I knew I was going to be sick, I knew I was going to be gone, but I believed myself always hoping that I would keep in mind that we had struggled to change. Remember when only I dared to oppose it. Right against her who had long taken over everything, for wanting to get rid of me.

In the later pages I could feel that the author had been struggling so much, so many writings were describing how the author described his struggle, even though the author did not tell what exactly the problem was. I'm curious as to who the author of this red book is. I felt how the writer wanted to be heard but could not make a sound, and I understood how the same feeling, the feeling I was currently feeling. When everyone knows and keeps those answers from me.

Reading this book really took my time. But still I want to finish it. The more I open the sheet, the more I realize that the author is very lonely, that the author misses his Ghandinya, the same as I miss my Ghandi. Subsequent writings tell how the writer felt to Ghandi that Ghandi never heard and the feeling was the same as mine about my feelings when Ghandi I left and never returned. I wanted to hug Ghandi today, even if it was just his shadow.

It was so beautiful when the author told me how his story began when he met Ghandi. How that feeling grew from the beginning and finally never lost from the author. Ghandi changed all his life who never wished for anything and anyone, but after Ghandi came the author only had one hope, Ghandi.

Ghandi

This story I wrote was the story of the two of us, before I made a snare. The story where I appeared to be the main milkman, before you replaced me with the main character of another story that was just a supporting role in our story Ghandi.

I accept now my position as long as you remain my hope. But why does everything change when you know, he and I still want to be the main character in this story. I realize that our story, is the one you're wrapped in wounds. But happy we ever feel even though only a minute that you always forget.

I'm sorry Ghandi, because I'm going to end the story of all of us, just me, me and me. Because I keep making you my hope.

I'm getting curious about their story but I still haven't found out if it's in the backyard or if it's never been written. I continued to read this book until I realized that there was a poem that was exactly the same as the poem Ghandi wrote for me that was stuck on the wall of my room.

I'm Gone

You are the most beautiful

I never got out of it even in the shadows

You always have me covered

Even if it's just a name

I know you want me to always be there

But I'm not strong enough to accept it

I know that you want us to be together

But I wasn't strong enough to hold him

Thank you for everything you do

Because I've gone from everything you wanted

I'm leaving not coming back

Because I promise that I will remain your shadow

Why is this poem the same as what Ghandi gave me, is Ghandi and Ghandi the same person, and who is this author whether I know him, who he is. My answer has not been answered but there is a question that makes me more curious because on the next page there is a letter with a name that is very familiar to me, namely my name.

To Selena, though,

From me who just wants to share your feelings

I know you must be wondering who I am, and why I know you, who mila are and why your Ghandi is in this book. If you've opened this book I'm sure you've been looking for answers to your questions all along.

Thank you for being my story, you are one of the main characters in my story, you are sometimes the protagonist, you are sometimes the antagonist. For me we are the same. Sorry if the story I wrote at the beginning is a real feeling of sadness and on the next page you will continue to wonder.

Trust me selena I'll tell you all the answers to your questions in this red book and you'll know who I am.

Sweet greetings from me to yourself.

So much that I don't know, what's been going on all this time, what's going on between me and the author. And what our story is with Ghandi and whether I know Mila. It's too much for me, why is it that everyone I know now keeps it a secret to me.

I closed the book again, my head was so dizzy, I was tired of digesting the writings in this book. I looked back at the book, flipped through it, and I was surprised to see the writing on the back cover, an identity that made me cry so hard.

Selena's Diary For Selena

After Ghandi I left

***

Today is the date that Ghandi has gone forever from me and never returned, and today is also the date that I do not know anyone, because all I remember is my Ghandi