You are wrong if you consider success as a goal, because there is no definite benchmark for success. The process that we have to go through is what counts. How we are able to overcome all obstacles and steep winding roads.
Tags: success

Other Quotes by "Titon Rahmawan"

Oh Kay you are like a key that opens the door of my heart. Your charm crushes me. Like a clinking machete slicing my flesh thinly cutting my heart. Let you hit my neck with the longing that you create without compassion and mercy. Kay oh Kay there's no one like you in this world. Because for you, I'm a little kid who can cry for a stuffed toy. Wherever you sing, the rhythm of the music will accompany you. And let the dance floor come to you, twisting and lifting you in a dance that makes everyone crazy. Kay oh Kay you are my sickle machete. You are the dagger that stabbed my soul, you stoned me with the sweet needle of your innocent smile. You're the sweet mouth that sighs that moans that laughs that makes my soul restless. Kay oh Kay. Your sweet spit drips like the most sugary honey on my thirsty mind. I desire you from the most sordid nests, the most abominable paths and the most perverted thoughts. I want to taste the most delicious nectar of your flowers. Oh how you taint me with your fire. You trapped me with your innocence. With your nakedness that leads me astray. How you give hope that I do not have. You won a heart I didn't fight for. Kay oh Kay you are the only answer I never questioned. A destination I never expected but greeted me with joy. You are the reality that I never dreamed of but came true by itself. How do I accept you as you accept me with all the charm of your madness. Kay oh Kay my sunshine moon. You are my river and sea. Only you my eyes are fixed, only you my heart trembles. You let me be the key that enters the darkest hole of your soul. It is not in your majesty that my dreams wander, but in your intoxicating beauty. You have imprisoned my most wretched soul. Oh Kay you are my kitchen knife, my axe, my saw, my hammer, my screwdriver. You enslaved me in this unbreakable lust. I serve you like a stupid servant. A deaf and blind goat that only serves one master. You are the master of all this passion and madness. Everything I know about you is a lie. How did you deign to allow me to love someone other than you? Kay oh Kay, if truly adoring you will give me the true meaning of a poem, then how can you give me true love that you never had?
Tags: love, poetry
Why did you plant those roses on the side of the road Kay? Was it on purpose, so everyone could adore her or pretend to love her? But you know, there's no such thing as cheap admiration. Like all the false hopes you sow on your bed. Pink roses that bloom for a moment before wilting, burned by time. There's still a lot of love that you don't really understand, Kay. Is that the only way to kill loneliness? Scarring on the chest and a heart that is slowly losing its beat. How long have you felt bored with that same routine, Kay? Like shallow thoughts that will continue to haunt us with pieces of lies. Is this the kind of sadness you want to immortalize? From one frame to another. From one video to the next. Just to display the memories that you have memorized by heart. The bitter smile that you are trying so hard to hide from the world. Or perhaps, that's your way of mocking and ridiculing us. For being caught up in this humiliating ritual. Rituals glorify the ego and deceive oneself. Because we have to admit, in fact you are the purest among us. You are the only one who is naked and does not cover yourself with a mask of hypocrisy.
Tags: poetry, truth
My dear Glenda, may I sit here with you, between these cold and silent tables and chairs? I don't want to start a conversation about rain, but I'll tell you a dream; Is a hatchling that sinks in the sand on a hidden beach. She was longing for a beautiful house, like the shadow of the sea that she once lived with her father and mother. But she forgot where. The house felt distant and unreachable from her memory. Then she went into a dream. When she was shivering with cold from fever and her father came to visit her, brought a blanket of moss and flew with the whirlwind that blew from nowhere. She knows, she misses all the events that keep her memory on the meaning of happiness. She didn't want to feel sad or alone anymore. But she found nothing in her past, other than a gaping recess that offered nothing but darkness. She couldn't see her own face. Not a smile or even the clear dreamy eyes depicted in her dream. Just a gloomy image of a broken heart, pain and perhaps anger. For some reason, she didn't want to look back anymore, but she couldn't. Every time she looked away, what she saw was a clock pendulum moving from right to left and a timepiece moving backwards step by step. She wanted to hurt herself, with shards of rock and sharp needles like the thorns of sea urchins. She lost all the love vocabulary that her mother had taught her in the past. All the prayer sentences that she seemed to be forced to say just to understand what her own existence meant. Why do all beings have to live, just to understand the meaning of suffering? She's just a hatchling who doesn't know how to deal with the wild out there. Not knowing how to interpret the worry behind the threat of the seagull's screams, or perhaps the restlessness of the rustling of the sand, which hints at nothing but silence. O chaotic world, why is it now so scary and unfriendly. However, the dream must end. When she met her quietly fondling the shores of the sea and the surging waves that never stopped singing. Suddenly, she no longer felt alone. Suddenly, she felt the caress of God's hand touch the vulnerable shell on her back. And then she saw, the sun rising slowly, as God parted the seas with just a smile.
Tags: poetry, wisdom, life, inspirational
What might you believe is a punishment, Kay? Shouldn't a step leave a trace that you want to deny in the future? Memories are the sap that drips from the wound of a tree. As for the memories buried in the courtyard, were the bones that the thieving dogs dug up at night. Who will come to love you with such a scruffy face? Because that screenshot will never tell any other lie than what you intended to do from the start, Kay. Whatever you try to hide behind that lace masquerade mask will never go away forever. You can't be a chameleon clever enough to disguise your own nakedness. As time has already absorbed your entire presence in this moment, in the days past or in the years to come. You can never turn away from it. How can you feel confident in yourself, Kay? That all the traces you left behind are not a reflection of stupidity and an artifact of lies? Like the forbidden fruit that Eve plucked from the middle of the lost garden of Eden. She has transformed into a labyrinth within each of her descendants. She has transformed into Pandora, and a curse box which then curses her to be a lonely woman for the rest of her life.
Tags: truth, poetry
There is a cleft wound similar to a pot lip in everyone's heart. A defect that they try hard to hide from the world. But we shouldn't wear a mask just to cover a little wound. We don't have to digest everything with those suspicious eyes. So, listen to what your mother has to say, my dear. Humans don't have to be perfect to be appreciated. Just as beauty can come from small and simple things. Including what appears on a shabby piece of batik cloth or a teacup with a broken end. We can learn from kintsugi, how to be wise without rushing into old age; how to put gold lacquer on a cracked pottery cup. How truly, a porcelain jar that falls, breaks and is even damaged does not lose all its value. Imperfection will not diminish your worth. For it is only your resilience through the hill of suffering that will make you find the light of true happiness. How you can learn to appreciate the flaws in yourself. How you can accept mistakes and even failures. As nature interprets wabi sabi, imperfection is not something to be rejected or denied. It should be welcomed as the clear water of a lake, the freshness of dew in the morning, or the aroma of petrichor in the rainy season. Every time you fall and become fragile, you can put the pieces of your heart back together. You will never lose the cause you are fighting for. Because every scar, just like sweat and tears, is a gem born from all your hard work. It is too precious for you to waste. Sparkling beads that you can string into unique and beautiful jewelry that will forever be yours. Never be afraid to hit a rock. Don't be afraid of being scolded by birds. Don't be horrified by the storm. Because when you get to the top, you will be able to see the world as a miniature landscape that is beautiful to remember. Because that is how life should be, it is a beauty created from our flaws and imperfections.
Tags: life-lessons, poetry, wisdom, inspirational, love
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