Sleep brings no joy to me,
Remembrance never dies;
My soul is given to misery,
And lives in sighs.

Sleep brings no rest to me;
The shadows of the dead,
My wakening eyes may never see,
Surround my bed.

Sleep brings no hope to me;
In soundest sleep they come,
And with their doleful imagery
Deepen the gloom.

Sleep brings no strength to me,
No power renewed to brave:
I only sail a wilder sea,
A darker wave.

Sleep brings no friend to me
To soothe and aid to bear;
They all gaze on – how scornfully!
And I despair.

by: Emily Bronte

Note: This poem by Emily Bronte is one of my favorites. It reminds me that sometimes sleeping does no good to me when I want to forget things, just like what the first paragraph says.

This would be the same as the time when evening comes, when daylight dims and darkness falls. We think it’s the end of anything bad, while it can be the beginning as well.

I took these pictures of Jakarta’s earliest evening on May 2, 2011. It was a day full of things. Things I wanted to understand, to remember, and yet some I wanted to forget. That night was an endless night filled with dreams I didn’t want to replay.