Category Archives: Notes from a Love Foolosopher

To Lady Luck

Dear Lady Luck,

Hi, How are you? Sometimes I know I don’t check on you that much but you have always been by my side. In the weirdest most unexpected time which I could only realise much later. I wonder about you a lot these few weeks. I’m sure you’ve been swell, well, for all we know, luck is yours to begin with, and to give away.

But this is a personal thank you note from the bottom of my heart, and I really really mean bottom because I have been there, figuring out the depths of it while patching back its pieces during my darkest hours (and your luck came to light me up cos no one can do shit in that kind of darkness).

Through you, I get to be with the luckiest person in the whole wide world (I seriously still don’t know whether I am the luckiest or she is the luckiest). It was indeed such luck that we complemented each other so well like a pair of gloves. We’re so lucky that we met each other, fell for each other, grew up with each other, went through hardship with each other and now finally making our individual paths with the faith and support from each other. I have never thought I would go through this in such composure and faith (Knowing me, the hysterical cry baby). Trust me, she has intentionally or unintentionally given me all that I actually needed to grow, and I, at my very best, am giving (and will always be giving) her what she wants, the right space and support for her to grow. How lucky is that? Maybe there’s no luckiest because when you sprinkle down luck, whoever gets it, gets it enough of what they need at the moment. You smart like that, huh?

I have been visited by your luck so many times. I mean, here I am worrying about my lost of appetite until I lost 7 kg in the past one month and you gave me the body that I’ve always wanted since I was like what, 30 years old? I’m at my ideal weight of 46 kg. How lucky am I?! Thank you, thank you!!!

With your luck, you have saved me many times. From myself, from my demons, from my thoughts and in a lot of situations. You have sent so many guardian angels to help me find my way out. So many many times, always, even those I can’t remember (my memory is still peanuts, wattudu). But I know you were there!

You gave me so much luck that I don’t know how to repay you, or the universe, except for these few manifestations that I will share with you:

  1. That I will be stronger and more positive about my outlook in life. I know I have put a side a lot of things and maybe it’s time to revisit them. Like in the words of Jean-Luc Godard in his Breathless screenplay, “To be immortal, and die.”
  2. Superstars are meant to be with each other but they need to grow and build themselves on their own. I’ve realised this now (duhhhh) how it means so much to me. And I am so excited for this journey! I’m starting to plot my way in conquering the world! (and I know you’ll be by my side, kan? kan? Kan?)
  3. I’ll be 37 in 2 months. Oh my, the amount of skills and experiences that I have been able to grow is amazing! And also the opportunities that I have gotten to be here. Even for all the situations, the challenges, the hardships – it is indeed so crazy lucky (thanks you!) that I am still alive and well and able to envision my future. And I am envisioning my future as a stronger and better person. I’m still trying to grasp the fact that I am here right now (gilalah!).
  4. I will make things happen for me. I am more certain on what I want in my life now. Although I have grown up as an emotional and sensitive person, I’m seeing it as I have developed one of the best EQ level among my peers, I’m very fortunate. It’s no longer my weakness, it is indeed my strength, and I shall not feel sorry or guilty for it. Now, I just need to make time to brush up my IQ and also stabilise my standing in the world, especially financially. I’ll be your Superstar achievement, Lady Luck! I promise!
  5. And I want to love everyone. I do still have so much faith in kindness. I really do still believe that if I want kindness to prevail, I need to lead by example. I want to be able to be remembered as someone who is always kind to others. And when I die, my tombstone will read, Por Causa De Amor.

I don’t know if you read blogs. But maybe those who drop by and read this post will help me manifest and send this to you as well. And of course I will always come by to read this again and again. For I am Abby Latif, the love poet, who is in love with the person that she used to be, has become, and will be.

Oh, I just did a premature signoff. Damn.

Yours Sincerely,

Abby Latif

Advertisements

Suicidal with no intention of Killing

Suddenly, I feel the need to write. With Twitter, my ability to write more than 140 characters have been questioned by myself. Especially a poet like me, stanzas, verses, rhyming, we can make do with the small spaces we’re given. I can write,

You are wonderful.

..and think that be such a poetic moment.

But yes, blogging has been so last season. Unless you’re blogging for commercial purposes. An event write-up, a product review, and so forth. Of course, political commentary could also garner some commercial values. Of some sort. Let’s agree for just once, politics and money are like air and lungs.

Unfortunately, I intend to write about the state I have put myself in recently, or maybe precisely for the past 40 days. In pursuit of love.

Part of this is suicidal because this post will appear on my FB wall and she might come across it, click it, and read it. But if I were to be negative thinking she won’t check on me, or my FB wall, or even know I’m writing about this, then I’m safe. So, there it is, no killing!

It’s been awhile. Pursuing love. If you have followed my blogging adventure since 2007, my ups and downs of longing and loving, my endless ranting about being heartbroken, you might gather what a total wuss I am when it comes to the topic. Heck, people knows me as the romantic poet. “Your romanticism is killing me,” an audience once said. And I grin like a foolish bean when I read one of those very highly intoxicating lovey poems of mine. Or sometimes, I held back tears and went through lumps in my throat, trying to finish a heartbreaking poem, also, one of mine.

There’s something about entering a relationship. And it being a long-distance pursuit. I don’t know if I’m in one at all. And if we’re even together. But there’s a comfort feeling that makes me feel like I’m settled. At 29, you don’t want puppy love. There’s no more excitement. I’m old enough to be thinking what will happen in the future. Logistically. Practically. What to offer. What I can afford to provide. I’m almost like an old fart.

Friends have been advising, take it slow, enjoy the moment. Affairs are fun to have when you’re together, in each other’s arms. When you’re far, you can’t see the tangibility of an affair. As I write my love letters, I feel like those poets in the 18th century, away in warzones, having faith that their love will be waiting for them, clutching the pieces of papers sent with words of love and romance, as if in fantasy, their souls are dancing together.

Today’s love affairs involve more physical affection, sexual attraction and emotional drama. I’ve experienced all that. Using and being used. Everyone’s in it for something, or at least, get something out of it.

The problem with romantic affairs is that it has a shelf life. A year ago, I kept on thinking, this is my destiny. To just have affairs. As a writer, we feed on these affairs as our muse for our writings. As a poet, I feed on my longing as my muse. My longing in wanting something I can never have.

Now, something I can have is there, in a distance, but possible. I told her, I am not settling with her until something better comes along, because she is my something better. But could I be eating my words if things doesn’t work between us, I don’t know.

What I know is this, I want no one else except her right now. But this intangibility and space between us will suffocate me. And patience, as much as it is my virtue, will also be the death of me.

The Curious Swan (Short Story by Abby Latif)

A swan who got so used to the lake, one day, thought to herself.

“Am I destined to just be here. To swin across this lake to and fro, and just walk around the bank, and sometimes, fly here and there?”

Suddenly, the lake spoke to her.

“It’s not your destiny, nor am I trying to keep you here to stay. It’s your own choice. You chose not to explore the possibilities in life.”

The swan, who was in quite a shock, started responding defensively, “I wasn’t given the option. And nobody told me that I even had one. I should blame mother nature. She didn’t tell me I had other options!”

All of a sudden, the lake water started heating up, and it started boiling. the swan, furious of the sudden temperature rise, flew away and found another lake to settle down.

—– # —– # —–

Lakes doesn’t usually heats up and starts boiling, it’s not their nature. But when their reason being were being questioned, they can do perhaps anything.

the dream

it was a couple of nights ago. a dream. with you in it. nothing corny. just us. being friends. like meeting someone whom you’ve known from a different life.

last night i didn’t dream of you. but then today i knew why. i wouldn’t say it here. just incase. by any god given destined fate, you’d stumbled on this post.

there are people in our lives that we are meant to be with. there are passer-bys. then there is me. and there is you.

but i have noticed you way earlier. and … like i’ve noticed those interesting people in my life, whom i end up loving, i hope that this might happen with you too.

i’ll let this flow without pressure. a stream of little river from on top of the mountain. i won’t build a dam. i will sit by it and put some leaves and watch the water bring the leaves to places it shall will.

and then …

“One day You will take my heart completely and make it more fiery than a dragon. Your eyelashes will write on my heart the poem that could never come from the pen of a poet.” – Rumi

a prayer

A: Tonight I cried during prayer. I cried when I asked for strength. The strength I need to give love. I thought of you. And your kind pure heart. I am so grateful to be a passerby in your path. What you did for the kids was amazing. What you did for yourself is commendable. I pray for your peace, composure, joy. Goodnight. Assalamualaikum.

V: I heart you so much Abby. Sitting in front of Kaabah, and praying for you is my gift for a dear dear friend like you.. Alhamdulillah syukur pada Allah swt for such wonderful blessing for having you in my life’s journey. Alhamdulillah. Waalaikumsalam, Abby. Rest well.

Dear God. I want to love so badly. But give me the strength to love, to give and give, the affordability to give relentlessly, to tell people I love them and mean it, to make people smile when they think of the love I give. Like my friends who loves me endlessly even though they are not related to me.

Dear God, if ‘jodoh’ is not in my books, let me love others, for I now am helpless. I have no money to give, I have no status to pride around. All I have is just words. Words to share about love. How wonderful love is when it’s shared among strangers whom we never knew before. Love that can kill of anger, hatred, arrogance, pride and erase boundaries.

Dear God, I am most grateful for all that you’ve given me. Forgive my wrongdoings in life. I am a weak soul. I am vulnerable and fragile. That’s why I ask for strength. And only to You we all ask for forgiveness and strength. For You are the All KNowing, Master of Everything and Owns everything in this World and Life.

dark cold lonely friday night

in the dim light while listening john coltrane’s “naima” and chet baker’s “my funny valentine”.

a smile on the face.

another drag of the stick.

smokes blown from the nose, and from the mouth.

another smile.

trying to hide the tears.

in longing of the love.

a person.

loved a little less.

probably not at all.

now.

it was different then.

when the ray of morning light used to make the best view.

when the sun light touches the face.

when the words were uttered.

the comfort.

lying on someone’s arm.

face close to each other.

the sweet hug from the back.

those wonderful lovely few days.

love was made and love fades.

a person loved a little less.

fingers became numb.

hiding the tears that forced itself to shed.

a tremble.

a shiver.

night gets colder.

heart gets sadder.

light another stick.

a feeling not everyone will understand.

loved a little less.

then love fade away.

moon refuse to shine.

heart refused to warm.

now, everything changes.

circumstances remained unfavourable.

music plays on.

“naima” …

“my funny valentine”…

fingers shivered.

heart wept.

loved a little less.

now, not loved at all.

for all that matters.

tears … will be shed.

by a person …

loved a little less.

if not at all.

not any more.