Separuh Aku

There is a special category of feelings - seemingly your own, but with traces of others. When the pain is no longer painful, but its echo still resonates somewhere beneath your ribs. And here we go again - the familiar scene, the old story: someone loves not the one who is close to them, but the one who is close to them quietly bears all this “not the one.”

The song seems to sit on the edge of the evening room, where the air is thick with words that no one has said. It doesn't accuse, it doesn't ask - it just acknowledges the fact: sometimes half of you lives in another person, and there's nothing you can do about it. Except maybe learn to cherish that half while it searches for its way back.