Jack Broke My Heart

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As I quote from the all time favorite band of mine, All Time Low, "Maybe it's not my weekend, but it's gonna be my year" phrase represent what I would like to say about this post.

Technically, I could make every year as my year, but this one so far, was totally my year which I couldn't thank god enough for his blessing every single day.

There were two things that would be the highlight of this year,

1. I finally breathe the air of British royalty

2. I saw All Time Low live

and the rest, I turned eighteenth this year.

I have been taught a lot of feeling through out 365 days; Feelings where set me on ease or the complete other way around. Time flies quite fast, it seemed like just yesterday I had a school trip to Singapore with my school mates and I barely talked about the new year's eve. But it has been a good 12 months.

This Christmas holiday was unintentionally went well. Other than the decent solitude with writing, I went out of town with my family for three days and in between I hang around with Arky and her cool siblings, Ka Adit and Adam. It was another piece of salty spice on the last week of 2010, I got the chance to see somewhere else out of the mundane home town with friends; sometimes unplanned things could turn out to be perfect. We were randomly stopping by at the hippest meeting point in Bandung called Paris Van Java, then I saw a place where I thought never existed other than in my head. It was almost midnight, the store was already closed, and there was this one place, up at the highest floor, an ice rink. At the moment, the main lamps were off, left only colorful projections of lights through one center controlling room spread all over the ice rink. The ceiling was also full with green and red laser dots as though it was the starry sky. The ice rink was cold till there was a visible fume emanate from the bottom of the ice. And as the last touch, there was this one old all time mellow song resound across the room.

It was beautiful. I almost did not care how awful my face looked like due to the overwhelming shock.

I'll see you next year.

A piece by : Fiya Muiz
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He Said "Lookin' Good"

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Hey blog, how you doin'? I've been a very pretty mess recently. If you wonder how do I look like these past three days I probably would look like the monsters under your bed.

No, I'm kidding.

I've been living with my favorite dark blue sweatshirt and it has been a pretty good solitude. The most far place I went in these past three days was my kitchen. I've made a quite deep emotional connection with coco crunch and my laptop.

Just me, the internet, Microsoft word and my laptop. Fine days.

I am currently subscribing to European time, so I slept around 5 A.M which around 11 P.M in Britain and woke up around 2 P.M which around 9 A.M in Europe. If I look back, things were pretty neat. New year is coming within a week. Rad. Very rad. Indonesia made in to the final against Malaysia. Another rad point.

Pretty good vibe to end the year. I'll catch up with you later in a special post talking about 2010. In the mean time, I've got to get back to the game, it's back on. xx

A piece by : Fiya Muiz
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Ini Bukan Itu

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Kalo menurut gue, konsep jodoh itu bukan cuma kesengajaan. Jodoh itu terlalu penting dibandingin sama sengaja yang jatohnya simpel banget. Jodoh itu jauh dari definisi gampang atau mudah. Karena menurut gue, jodoh itu serius, sama kaya seberapa pentingnya kamar mandi kalo mendadak kebelet pipis. Justru jodoh itu lebih dari sekedar ketemu disuatu tempat secara ngga sengaja, pake baju warna yang sama tanpa janjian atau punya kebiasaan yang sama tanpa diketahui.

Dimana-mana hal yang dicapai lewat suatu pengorbanan, dua atau tiga kali jatoh, luka, jalan buntu atau jalan yang ribet itu lebih diinget. Lebih berkesan. Bukan berarti kalo semua hal keliatan ribet artinya ngga jodoh. Mungkin aja sebaliknya, ya kan? Tuhan mau kita lebih berjuang akan hal itu, dan bisa nunjukin segimana pentingnya hal yang kita kejar ini. Mungkin juga, dalam perjalanan perjuangan itu kita bisa nemuin kompas, supaya lebih jelas, apa iya semuanya layak?

Kalo sampe ada perasaan, "Apa gue maksa?"

Maksa itu bisa terjadi waktu secara ngga langsung otak memprogram keraguan yang awalnya cuma bisik bisik, jadi pohon mangga yang besar banget. Kenapa bisa jadi pohon mangga, gue juga gatau. Tapi kalo pertanyaan itu muncul untuk kesekian kalinya, padahal udah dicoba sekali atau dua kali ngusir itu dengan mengambil aksi tertentu, berarti... dia belum sepadan. Atau kemungkinan satu lagi, rumah lo enak jadi pertanyaannya betah.

Kalo diliat-liat, semuanya itu beda tipis. Benci sama suka, bego sama gila, cupu sama baik, tipis banget bedanya.

Lebih tipis dibanding martabak fatmawati yang di perempatan D'best. Wajar kalo keserempet kesana-sini. Tapi sebenernya... jelas. Beda tipis, tapi keliatan. Kerasa. Karena ini salah satu hal yang dirasa pake hati, bahkan buat pembohong kelas kakap, gurame atau eksekutif aja, ngga bisa kuasain.

Jodoh itu luas, bisa aja keterkaitan sesuatu secara otomatis tanpa direncanakan, tapi bukan sebatas itu aja. Kesamaan dalam keterkaitan ini, bagian kecil dari keseluruan arti jodoh. Bisa aja post ini cuma hasil dari batu bata teori unverified sampah gue yang lama-lama jadi gedung paling tinggi di otak gue, tapi at least gue ga pernah membunuh motivasi gue untuk berdiri terus kan?

Setiap kali gue ngerasa ada satu kesempatan yang gue lewatin, gue ga pernah pulang nunduk atau bawa take away rasa nyesel, karena gue tau masih ada kesempatan lain yang pasti gue lebih siap. Dimana gue bisa dateng dengan kepercayaan diri penuh, udah siap menerjang badai, becek, buku yang setebel printer, atau muka seseorang yang dengan mudahnya bikin gue lemes sekejap dan lupa caranya ngomong dengan hanya ngerasain keberadaan dia depan gue.

Semua itu proses. Biasanya yang instant, ga pernah sehat.

p.s: hari ini gue belum tidur jam setengah empat pagi dan ini post pertama gue dalam bahasa indonesia (bukan maksud sok bule tapi karena gue emang lemah di bahasa indonesia) khusus buat seseorang yang ngembaliin inspirasi gue untuk yakin gue bisa nulis pake bahasa indonesia juga, sekali-sekali. :)

A piece by : Fiya Muiz
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@RadityaDika

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Meet Raditya Dika, he is one of the best author in Indonesia.
(According to my dictionary and I do not care about the other's)

He is one of the guy who suits my definition as a good looking guy without even bother to dress up or try to be one. Cause within his presence he has a charm that able to attract, hooked and impressed someone in the same time.

Beneath his jokes and irrelevant sense of humor, he has this a deep side of him that he tries to keep under the radar.

I do not know him personally, but some says you could know someone through his writing. And I have read few of his works. And every time I read, I could feel something about him. Not in the wrong way. Just the thing that he did not put up front. Thing that stays behind his expression. That is also one of the reason I define myself as his big fan, he writes. He writes in his own way. A guy who writes already caught my attention, and this one sure got A LOT of my attention.

I have always wanted to meet him by any chances. Once I did try but faith seemed not on my side at that time. So I kept this believe, that he is just the the flight I've wanted to get on, and it's just the trick of time delaying my departure. But soon, soon I'll meet him, just as much as I always wanted to.

A piece by : Fiya Muiz
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Tongue Like Electric, Eyes Like a Child.

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Just by seeing him, I would just like go and bring him home.

Rather than letting this page alone. I shall update with the little touch of well-being creature from the Great Britain.

That's George Craig. He's all in one package.

The intensity of December is high which I do not really enjoy much. But this is life, folks.

A piece by : Fiya Muiz
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I've Got One of My Birthday Wishes List Crossed.

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I know I have no rights to tell you what to hear or what to read, but as your eyes has reached this post.
I've got to tell you how sick my day went. I played soccer earlier this morning and I scored one goal. ONE GOAL.
I stood on my tip toe and praise the unusual pride I've collect today. This was my first match after the last game I could recall when I was nine or ten year old. So you'd sure understand how I felt really good about a moment of glory.
And second, I went to the airport.
This wasn't the ordinary, "I went to the airport because someone is leaving" kind of thing. I went to the airport because I just felt like it. And I am very grateful to god for giving me a chance to hang out with one of the coolest kids in the entire world. Karin, Ryan and Upal were tha bomb of tha day. I've got to tell you a secret, I have been wanting to do this on my birthday. But as a wise and odd proverbs from Paris Hilton, We've got to live like everyday is our birthday. Present never expired. They didn't know I want this. But they gave me one of the day I wanted to have. Gas station. I tried on a children dress (for 11 year old) on the airport's department store. We took shuttle from Terminal 1 - 3. Went to the waving... waving whatever it called. Fuck yeah I had fun.
I know eyes bored to deal with details, so I am going to make this short as possible.
You've got to listen this carefully. I have the days I wanted back on my grip.

A piece by : Fiya Muiz
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Only the Strong Survived

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As I wrote this in English, implied to thee English exam by tomorrow morning. My eyes falling slowly rhymed within every ticks of the clock, where's the moon I shall met when the night comes? Ascending beat flows as the iTunes exhale the noise of a speaker. The day has brought me well, overlay the rusty bridge from one to another, unite what has been lost for weeks and weeks. Traffic and rain were pack of jokes, running out the attention of common sense that highly overrated nowadays. Over the top bass volume was tolerable, just like the full-length loud conversations through the hours. Indifference tone of laughs and tears smeared the ears under the afternoon sky. Few lines has changed the irritating white blank post that require a title which I chose randomly had done enough decoration to my so called preparation for tomorrow. I have done the least of my mind could think of. And been a while I haven't brought this one up, I had quite fun. Time to greet the woozy bed.

Hello December, long time no see.

A piece by : Fiya Muiz
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Keep The Change, You Filthy Animal.

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Sometimes it gets very easy to fall in love with the characters on the movie, books or TV series rather than fall in love with a real person that existed in the real world. Cause real person would hurt much than characters in the movie and anything real tend to be a constant disappointment in life. A big one. Although I could hear whisper to stop and start to look around, open my eyes widely and forget what had happened in the past six months, I'd still be in the same place and not moved even an inch. Distance and undefined social network made things uglier since it increase the percentage of making assumption that still doubted the accuracy but haunting like it was a fact and be stupidly annoying to daily mood.

I have tried to hate and forget things, making promises to myself, but it came down to no point. Even my eyes were too exhausted to cry. My legs too tired to run and chase. Its just my fingers that hasn't reached anywhere, still writing about something I recently assume, worthless. Most of the time my head and my mind went through a significant disagreement on something, and when once they had met in mutual, such as labeling someone as best, it frozen like an eternal ice.

I wanna feel light not much of a responsibility to carry, and fall in love as easy as I could. I've wasted my time being serious, and I had enough. I'll start to sleep with no lights on, jump on and on and on on my bed till I touched the ceiling of my room and no one could stop me, eat dinner in the middle of the night lights off TV's on, dyed my hair hair pink and felt nothing. I'll make my life like a party where everyone's invited and more than welcome.

A piece by : Fiya Muiz
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My November Post Promise

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I should say sorry for breaking my November promise. (to keep on writing blog daily)

I turned eighteen and I haven't feel like it yet. Probably I was busy looking for something that I could find. Although I had no idea what I was looking for. It could be anything in any form. My head was too occupied with everything till I couldn't understand how I supposed to feel. As if my heart was playing hide and seek this week. I guess my mind been staying somewhere unreal. Somewhere where houses were made by expectations and it always gets me fall in the gutter of disappointment when I tried to get back to the world of reality. I mean, what surrounds me just not enough to support me to stay within my expectation. Another thing that gets very annoying: to expect. Just like a snow lover expecting to see the snow when he/she lives in a tropical land.

Is it me or things happen like they wants to eat me alive? I should have been more....loose. Heckyeah I'm18!

I saw people that I would like to keep forever in my life on my birthday. and that's all that matters.

I would like to kiss my shuffle tonight for spoiling my ears with good songs.

P.S: don't stay at home on your birthday cause it sucks.

A piece by : Fiya Muiz
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You've Got Nothing to Fear, If You've Got Nothing to Hide.

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God. Harry Potter burned me alive.

• Harry Potter was my first sparks for falling in love with Britain in 2001. Including the almighty British accent.
  
  
• Red hair guy looks way more attractive in this movie.
  
  
• Ron has this indescribable sex appeal that pulled me every time he talked in British accent. And somehow in a split second, it makes me wanted to go and marry him.
  
  
• The tension between Ron and Hermione was wow. As well as Hermione and Harry and Ron. Just in a slight difference section.
  
  
• For a while, or maybe way longer than a while, I really wish Harry Potter's world does exist.

ps: my mind was too occupied with lots of thoughts. so I wrote in points instead of paragraphs.

A piece by : Fiya Muiz
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I'll Run

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If I was somewhere outside the room and the sky as the roof, I like to run as fastest as I could and hoping the wind would wash away the thoughts that started to burn inside my mind. But in different case, I always run to this blog if I got something, the tiniest bit droplets of thought that may cause a wild fire, metaphorically. Nowadays things were getting more reliable to ruin my mood. Even though sometimes I barely got any mood. If you know what I was saying. I may run to the swimming pool when I feel like I was on the edge of crying. Cause you couldn't get anywhere similar like the pool. When the water pressure pressed against your face, your eyes couldn't see right and you were trying to hold your body under the water just for a little while when things feels light and all silent, before mentally ready to hit the surface back again. It feels good. Not even the bath tub could give me this full scale satisfaction.

Have you ever think about how weird at the time like this, on the age where someone barely accept their driving license, we teenagers are pushed to make a decision. On the age where someone gets very vulnerable and in between. On the age where we just want to have fun. While the only thing that we should worry was about getting the permission to be back at home after midnight.

It's just as stupid as I wish the alarm to ring few minutes later than the exact hour that I set earlier.

Things seem running in a slightly slower motion posing like they were chaffing me with their little play. I just got remembered that I almost touch down the age of eighteen. Is it me or my mind set telling me as I grew older day by day I learned more things, in the same time I have to deal with it more, I have to understand it more, and I have to spare some of my memory to keep those lesson that I get perfectly in order. Which pushed me to come up with dozens of theories, unspeakable-cost-memory kind of theories. Sometimes it bugged me.

Things also looks like they ask for more attention.

You must know what I mean.

I still don't feel well.

Every time I see this picture, I would like to have it inked on my back. Seriously.

A piece by : Fiya Muiz
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Truth Never Set Me Free

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I've got to admit that sometimes I asked unnecessary questions. And sometimes I got confused whether the conclusion of uncertain things were truly stated or it was just the trick of my mind connecting the dots?

There it leads to another question, by asking lots of question does that makes me critical or over think?

I wasn't on my best shape since my nose got a bit runny and my thoughts a bit sticky. Bed was my best friend for these past two days, I wasn't that all weak and ill but bed just seemed more attractive and calming for my kind of situation.

A pack of tissues was ready beside my pillow just in case I had an emergency sneeze.

The hours I spent off this bed were only for eating or writing a blog.

Life just as simple as turning the lights on when the sky gets dark.

I wish days could have been spend like this without runny nose and the guilty feeling for abandoning responsibility inside my bag and on my desk. They haunt me like a mad man.

Although I always find the best way to procrastinate or avoid it for a little while.

Murmured might not help anything, but it sure lessen the anger.

A piece by : Fiya Muiz
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It Shows On Your Fingertips

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It wasn't about sweet talks and possibilities between him and her. It was about the undeniable tension that she could feel when he was around. All painless light yet conflicting irregular heart beat in every second that passed, slowly, gradually shaping her foolish attitude.

Moment where she caught his eyes staring at her which caused her body fell right away, denying gravity that occurs. Excitement she should hide under her eye bag, hardly maintained.

Everything went a little too messy here and there but it felt flawlessly right.

She miss him that much she could feel it along her vein, travels through her body. It was all about what she could not get through indirect distance that separates them in person, hand and mind. She stood by her tip toe, looking way outside her window. To the innocent floor where she once found him, four hours after midnight. It was about what was there.

Hours that she wished could be repeated million times, as much as it has played back inside her head. It was about everything from the morning sun till the songs on the radio that reminds her to one posture of a liar. A liar that kept all of her faith more than anyone else.

You know, most of the things that could go wrong will always be saved by a statement of prejudice.

A piece by : Fiya Muiz
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If I Say I Don't Have Stories, Would You Believe Me?

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I always more attracted to November because there was one potential day I own the excuse to ask to be treated like a queen. On the same day that has the most potential of me, getting disappointed due to the highly expectation.

I've read lots of common phrases on the internet about growing up, and the worst part was most of it were true.

About losing the faith on fairytale every morning we, soon-to-be-grown-up, wakes up.

I just couldn't ignore the existence of reality that keeps haunting me both in good and bad way.

This what happened to most kids, when I was a toddler where my activities were only school, take a nap, eat, tv, and sleep, I've always curious about being grown up. In that way I wished my birthday will come very soon, and my parents will throw a party, we'll blow candles along with my friends. At that time I didn't think about the responsibility I gained each time when the number of my candles gradually increase. Responsibility by the common demand when social judge or responsibility that automatically charged on me, or us who are on our way to be grown ups.

I would like to stay eighteenth if I could.

My mind begin to wandered off to Forks, Washington DC. I starting to considered the existence of vampires that could turned me immortal. Just forever 18. Not immortal in the definition that you couldn't die. You must know what I mean.

I still look forward to my birthday, just not as much as I did five years ago.

A piece by : Fiya Muiz
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Every Waves Drags Me to Sea

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The coincidence on stumbling upon people that giving priceless objects of all time, ideas, has spoiled me a lot this week. Directly or indirectly, I've met quite a few people that inspires me in any kind of form. Mostly were series of acts that frozen my words and clouding my thoughts. It all started out simple, simpler than any prologue you may have seen before.

A speech, trains of sentence brought in astonishing gesture, blew me away. Its hard to see a flaw on a speech delivered by one of the most charming man on the universe. Or maybe just because it was clearly flawless. My heart moved several inches.

A movie, based on true story got my jaw fell opened. My heart moved few inches more. Although it wasn't an Oscar material, the most important thing was the story. And the story made a world history. And billions of people in this world owe this guy a massive thank you for making life easier (not always) to connect with people in no boundaries.

A spontaneous thought, oddly entertaining enough. A friend of mine came up with drop dead random idea to go to the beach an hour before midnight. Stupid yet very thoughtful. He wasn't the first person that I knew who usually stirred up with those kind of idea but recently I've lost one and haven't got the chance to feel the familiarity that lies on every heart beat of escaping normality. It puts be back on track writing few pages more on my project, letting go my writer's block situation for a while.

A piece by : Fiya Muiz
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Here You Go, Mark.

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I dedicated this entry for Mark Zuckenberg. I, as one of the billion users of facebook, owe him a massive thank you for everything.

He went through a lot to reached now. Something that worth appreciation.

Harvard kids sure know how to make money

This site is too good to be true.

A piece by : Fiya Muiz
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551

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Things got pretty scary when the lights were shut but yet it was so peaceful your mind could talk and mused. As well the scent of the perfume that keeps following me even to bed. I have to get up early tomorrow, quite early to spare me raccoon eyes since I haven't sleep this late. But I always reminded to a decent post on tumblr, which says
"We're never going to be as young as we are tonight"

why bother thinking about tomorrow then? I learned to live the moment. I've been too busy seeing beyond reasonable thoughts and forget the real meaning of a well-known phrase, ignorance is bliss.

Tonight I went to the beach. Spontaneously. It wasn't all romantic shit, we, as in me and two other friends, were just escaping the basis. Without a plan. It was a raw idea that passed in mind, and voila, we ended up on the beach.

I never thought beach would looked loud at night, although I didn't have time to look up to the sky which I assume it was starless, the sand was too rough it massage my bare feet. The essence of peculiar touch soothes me very well. And as soon I stepped on the shore, the sand started to feel cold. By the meaning of cold, it was truly cold.

The short hours really emphasize the art of escape. Too sudden I could barely refuse. I always enjoyed late night drive.

You know... been a while.

A piece by : Fiya Muiz
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Hey November. I've Missed You.

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My left arm was patiencely being my personal drawing book for these past two days. The remaining black ink from the pen I used still linger, even so I've rubbed with soap a couple times. Name and random phrases that passed my mind. That simple. I couldn't let a second away from the grip for looking a paper, as soon I held the pen.
This week went fast alright. Alright for books intensity, you know. I found new places for quick silence during the day. I slept in order by night. No more midnight eye hunger. The only thing I hardly get this week was my productivity on writing. This blog for example. Don't get me wrong, I've been wandering around this page since yesterday but as soon I clicked, I couldn't get things right to write. I kept thinking that, IF I wrote anything about my day, nobody would give a fcuk. Becase that's just how human do it. Very basic, impulsive, selfish human. There may few people really do care about the stories we've told by their ears, but most of them were not. I could feel it through the eyes.
Eyes could tell everything. The unseen. The untold. Secrets. Even things that you thought never existed.
Believe me, I've just seen it. Someone just reminds me how to look by the eyes.
And uh, It's November, everybody. November.

A piece by : Fiya Muiz
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We're Caught Up In The Crossfire of Heaven and Hell

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In a room of sixteen degree Celsius, my phone was abandoned, those papers were untouched, and those pictures were calling the memories that never fades till forever. Those brochures solemnly swear that they up for good but I stood silent. Clothes that has been hanging behind my door room looks tired, as if the hanger needs a ten minutes break. But they were not on the base ball field. They were in my room where things looks okay. Or things were okay. Oh wait, things are okay. Where procrastinating were highly praised. Where I lies, with the entire memories that stays. Of you, of him, of them. Where I got stuck on writers block and heading no way with dozens of unfinished pages.

Where I left my worries to the ceiling as I rest my head upon the pillow and closed my eyes. With my watch beside me, always reminds me to stay alert with the early sun that should have been my natural alarm. Colorful markers written on the wall, alongside the calendars of un/fortunates events. I circled the date and wrote what happened. That way I remembered exactly when the airplane left the ground. I remember the bruises on my knee when the first time I tried to conquer someone's abrupt skateboard. I remember the darkest night holding up tears at the edge of my eyelids. And the days where I felt perfect under the last days of summer weather eating fish and chips directly from where it came from.

My recent days were haunted by questions that leads to fear due to the valid vulnerability. The questionable fear of failing. Fear that I shouldn't have. Those shakes and swears medication that I took to make these thoughts go away seemingly corrupted.

Cause I couldn't list things inside my head while it still countable.

Songs of words dancing through my ears and soothe me for a while. A while until it ends. Leave me to the feeling of missing someone too much. Feeling that I tightly kept between these paragraphs. Feeling that I shouldn't carry when I was out there, representing me.

Oh dear lord. The night was warm enough to go swimming but I resist. The stars were friendly enough to sing me lullaby and brought me to sleep but I didn't care.

A piece by : Fiya Muiz
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Gimme Back The Sun

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This was just the form of excuses that I recently used to postponed other things. As if there was no day I couldn't get away without tasks or jobs or homeworks or shits. All in plural, abandoning the existence of singular. Now, barely 12 P.M, you should have seen the sky, even darker than my washed out jeans. This kind of weather has its own lullaby to put me to bed and do nothing. Do nothing in a way where I could think about what's been lost for more than a month. But these could was better than yesterday. At least till the very second I typed this entry.

The rain fell hard yesterday, causing the entire town in paralyze. Lots of horn honking, shouts from the police, and hazard lights from the car decorate the street in line. Probably yesterday was the longest hours I have ever been on the road, just to get home. Jakarta was getting crowded, maybe it was a good thing few people leaving this city. But why people always took the easiest way to survive than doing something to it? I did not say that I have a big suit case filled with plans and changed this town. but leaving... seriously? There must be something else, right? can we figure things out together?

Then I started to think all the useless what if(s) which vine to the other branch of things.

If I could just whisper to the cloud, please don't let it rain.

A piece by : Fiya Muiz
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I wish. I wish. I wish

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I got stuck in the point where I couldn't take a step forward or backward. As if the story was held in a pause, and I harmlessly wait and wait till someone finds the remote and pushed the play button. I may accused myself on something constructive, like sit inside a car, at night, alone, and listen to the sound of something undefined out there, just for the sake of inspiration so I could finish the project very soon. But saying was hell a lot easier than really doing it.

My head went a little bit tipsy without any alcohol help. I might not passed the DUI test although I didn't touch a single bottle. I was too tired to guess the causes that may be the perfect alibi to supports what was happening.

Even Step Up 3 didn't look promising. It wasn't ugly, but it pictures United States quite good in that movie, which hard to believe the accuracy of it. but I'll tell you the best part in a day was when the sun shines very bright till it almost burn you alive, but in the same time you could feel the brightness undressed your eyes and reflect the color of your iris. For additional, driving somewhere far with your best dudes and dudette, stop for half an hour and buy the best menu Starbucks has ever offered would be sweeter like the sugar on English breakfast tea.

I haven't talked much about the concerts I've been to these couple of weeks. Due to.. other subject that over clouded my head for a bit while.

I went to Jakarta Jam Concert last September 23rd. There were three artist Forever The Sickest Kids, The Maine and Hellogoodbye.

I missed Forever The Sickest Kids performance because the misunderstanding of schedule.

and The Maine got the best drunk-without-shirt vocalist. He has awesome tweets, by the way. @johnmaine

and Hellogoodbye for the sickest stage act of the night, they got the feel precisely.

I also went to Jakarta Blues Festival last night. There were four stages and countless artists.

The only performance that linger and able to comment here was The Trees and The Wild.

The guys were ace. They've got soul. Their faces, too, build the perfect image of folks tunes. The lead singer who sat in between those other two guys, attract my attention the most. They, in person and musically, sets the whole auditorium in silence. It wasn't because no one enjoyed it, but instead, everyone was amazed in one beautiful gaze along with the rhythm flow across the room. As if, they made everyone, in love.

A piece by : Fiya Muiz
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Give San Fransisco a Hello

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A piece of hand written scrabble notes on one of my free note book looks very fresh as if it was taken yesterday before the dusk. As if when I touched it, there was a sudden heat trembling at the edge of my finger tips - No, it was just the fiction that my mind create as soon my eyes recognize the familiar shape of alphabets.

All in weary, I in desperate ambition to reached somewhere safer in my definition of word, consider where I was before, been staying in sick static motion where it leads to the same place over and over again, some time alone were excruciatingly needed.

Alone and steady; Away from the loud noises and drum rolls. According what my ears caught from utter random conversation I barely remembered, it was all playing tricks in your mind. Took fully concentration for me to master what I have been told, learning to dictate my mind. To control what's been around my mind.

I was completely in my rational senses and awareness that what's been in my mind wouldn't be hundred percent gone, vanished, or you name it. But at least, at the very least of my capability, I know I could control it. So, when I got my time and come back to the crowd where I belong, I won't disappoint anyone, none of them who even has no idea what I was doing; Instead, they might be proud at me as I aimed for. Probably I would use an analogy for this, but I was running out of samples. Endless distractions were offered everywhere around my room. The oh so sweet acoustic guitar by the side of my messy table. The bed covered in brand new washed pink sheet along with its friends, pillow, blanket and bolsters. Lousy songs that I intendedly enjoyed. Clothes inside my closet were screaming at the top of their lungs, scolded at me, to wear them in fancy. Photos in my gallery were talking to me in silence, almost like a whisper wrapped in deep reminisce.

A piece by : Fiya Muiz
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Take Photographs, Take All Your Memories

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The transition when the sky was bright then gone all black in the sudden happens in a motion as the rotation of the earth wouldn't stop for a while although someone was begging lights to stay, naturally.Consciously in strike, I acknowledge the fact that life goes on and people may come and go in our lives. To let go the changing of words from presence to absence wasn't so much easy for me. As we speak, this year not only one but lots of my friends leaving this town. Very good friend of mine. Aside from the burden of not having them around anymore for significant range of time, like one year I suppose, they left for good. I'm happy for them.

At first I thought distance was shit, but I would have thank god for inventing a webcam.

You know, the only good thing when someone left to a far away land was the urge when you catch up things again, things seems prettier than it suppose to.

Simple than a thought, it feels good to know they're happy and doing okay there. They'll come back. Someday will come eventually anyway. Three cheers for one year!

Tio (Minnesota, United States.)

Ninda (Minnesota, United States.)

Nobody needs to tell me that I have the best friends ever existed in the entire universe. I caught that very well. I'm blessed. :)

A piece by : Fiya Muiz
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To Write Love On His Arms

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"It always been the smeared feeling upon this feet.

My entire body was trembling for certainty,

a little faith for not losing the grip - His eyes were blessed, I swear - the shimmer collapsed me through a stare

Words of curse shouting like a thunder in the middle of rain storm inside my head.

Because the idea of him burning fiercer than a coal in the highest temperature, causing a clouded smoke

which suffocates my lungs to breathe.

His voice was so soothing, smoother than silk, I swear; My name sounded dissimilarly perfect every time it was pronounced from his mouth.."

A piece by : Fiya Muiz
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Whispered, "Hello, I Miss You Quite Terribly.."

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I might have mentioned before, one of the worst feeling ever existed in this world was not able to write something when you actually wanted to. This could driving me mad more than math. I used to came up with terrific advices but very often I lose it as soon I need it. Because, when my mood lies underneath my feet or at least on the same base with my own feet, abandoned on the ground, I couldn't keep my head straight and really, literally think clear. As if something has suck my ability to reflects good ideas. The worst part was feeling defeated in a war where you actually acknowledge the basic strategy from your own enemy. The "I should do something!" thought humming all around my head but instead, I sat still and waiting for the airplane passed by. Just because I could pretend it was a shooting star and make a wish (according to a well-known song these days). And oh, even worse, when the enemy was the weakest one on the list of enemy line, that shouldn't actually be on the list. Such as math. I hate math more than you hate your imbalance body or your frizzy hair or your bad day or even the way I hate airport for the last stop of leaving-goodbyes.

There I shouldn't bother mentioned the thing that I hate but sometimes to write a blog I need certain mood to feel.

Anger and feeling of missing someone were on my top two list. Because they burned in the same intensity of shit.

I wasn't in my best shape nor mood these two weeks. I gotta say, tough weeks. Interest to change wasn't around. At least not now, let me stay here for a while. I just know this, takes time. Reminiscing for a week or two, then I'll heal pretty soon.

For now, put it this way,

when distraction wasn't enough, that's when you know you need a life counselor.

P.S: It may not sounded as bad as it sounds. Exaggeration implied just for the sake of satisfaction.

A piece by : Fiya Muiz
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What a Liar Needs Is Just a Simple Trust

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Good morning.
It's late here but I'm sure somewhere on the other part of the world, sun still shining too bright till the pupils shrink.
Things are changed here, slowly but sure. For the first time after a long while, I started to enjoy rain. I used to hate rain with all my heart.
But I never know, what I loved also happens to have the chance for changed. I thought things will stay until I told them to leave, but I was wrong. Well, street stays, building stays, and memories stay. I couldn't dictate my memories to hide under my bed or inside the dusty box at the attic and stop reminding me over and over again to a few things. Memories that not once but thousands of times dragging me down - both in a good and bad way.
Do you know that I thought August barely starts?
I thought those late food and long midnight drive were just yesterday.
I thought someday was still long enough to wait, so I don't have to be worried. Worried to death like today.
September came too soon. Too soon I can't even think.
September was unbelievable.
I got introduce to a lot of things in September.
September occupied my mind excessively.
That night, my brain was running out of oxygen because the thoughts were slowly burning, looking for the best way out then seeking for the possible gap to climb up and breathe in once, deep and secure.
That never happened to me until that night.

This was too short to conclude the whole month I've been through.

but I'll tell you something, you just never know that someday might be arrived very, very soon.

A piece by : Fiya Muiz
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When I Feel It, You're Wearing Thin

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Holiday is like the snow. Most of people gets excited when it arrived. Most people were waiting for it, impatiently. As the snow came, in cherish they welcome with warm heart. Play with it. Having fun. And people wished the sun never melted it. Changed it in to water then the ground absorb it till dry. Dry and left no trace.The power of sun beat the solidity of an ice. Just like the reality beats the existence of holiday. Holiday come to an end. Back to where we left the routines.
But you know, it'll come back. Soon enough.

A piece by : Fiya Muiz
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You Just Have NO Idea.

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I feel like a piece of cake, a yummy one, and the feeling of missing someone was a person who loves cake and eating me alive.

Not in a quick and painless way, but slowly... gradually.. in rhyme motion.

I was helpless without any body parts to run away or avoid, the process of being eaten.

I almost choked for being still. Letting everything happens in weird way of suffering not building any self defense to stop.

I'm a piece of helpless cake screaming for some help. Because the feeling always coming back without a greetings.

Every place that I stepped on to never missed a thing for reminding me the existence of 'cake feeling'.

Dammit, I miss you.

A piece by : Fiya Muiz
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Seriously Serious Issues

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This week ratio of my daily questions were extremely high like never before. I swear the urge of missing someone almost put me on hospital bed - metaphorically. It set me unease in no time, I just need to avoid the thought of it because believe me, the thought of it itself makes me sick.
Those questions I collect didn't leave without answers. Slowly but sure days had given me answer through any kind of messenger. Most of them were people that strangely I constantly met on weekdays. Older people who, maybe, had been through the phase where my questions lies and a good friend of mine that almost lost on my contact list, who has almost as wise as the the adults.

I'm at my age where I doubt things and looked whether it was worth to believe or not. Things must have reasons to believe.

I was questioning movies.
I watched few movies that nudged me about coincidence, destiny and things. and when I mean things, I meant the word that too sacred to be mentioned, nonetheless very... cheesy.

Scenes on the movies injects me with ideas. Lots of ideas. People said, fiction been adopted from the reality. And, it always make sense.

Just like when Charlie from My Sassy Girl finished his movie about his first and last love to this girl named Jordan. Wait, is it Jordan or Joan?
quoted:

"Destiny can't build alone. You still need to show up, you still have to build the bridge, a bridge to someone you love."

I was saying... you know what I was saying. Where every slow songs sounded drop dead melancholy, although the song was about a bad day, and still successfully cry your heart out.

Dammit. This post sounds entirely lame.

Seriously, people been calling me something that I thought I wasn't this whole week. Maybe I was...?
I guess I've got seriously serious issues.

Words wouldn't help me to get out of the box that set me unease. It might help a little but never stayed enough long to.. to.. make me feel safe, at first. I would still biting my nails, thumping my feet and covered my face with my hair just for the sake of the urge that travels all over my body through my vein until it came up to my brain and force me to admit, I was missing someone. I am missing someone.

Explaining how much, or how worse or any HOW that could've been involved here won't do any good and wouldn't change my mind for not missing this person anymore because I will until I see the perfect face that I lost for almost three weeks. It's just three weeks! and I almost lose my mind.

Good night.

A piece by : Fiya Muiz
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Reckoner

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This was the lamest afternoon I had on the entire August. Doing nothing in the middle of cloudy sky was lame.

raindrops keep hitting my window, the noise was abruptly annoying, with all due respect to rain and its lovers, I'd rather see sun

striking hot than dark grey sky. I should have sleep earlier.

My eyes were heavy as rock but I fight against it for something uncertain. I tried to avoid the regret but somehow I couldn't help to feel.

If I was asleep I wouldn't have the worst afternoon on August.

Nothing happened.

Maybe because of that I felt plainly sour and lame.

My phone was off because I just feel like turn it off.

I thought I want to write, but I ended up meeting a cyber scum bag and dive deep inside the good old pictures.

Those pictures adding more sourness in to my afternoon.

I lost my sugar.

Those pictures weren't bad. It just kept the memories I loved, Memories that I would like to have it once again. Or twice.

I miss everyone too much. Too much even beyond your imagination. Too much until it makes me sick.

Today wasn't a good day either. I laughed too much for nothing. Words were getting harder to believe.

Negativity surrounds me like shit.

Love The Way You Lie kept playing on the radio.

I think I'm going to fail my 1st English test, the only subject I thought I was good at. Those school stuff made me ungrateful of my blessed life.

I know I shouldn't feel this.

And there you go, the tasteless cake was served. With rain, dark sky, and feeling like shit has successfully decorated my lame afternoon perfectly.

My mood went ugly in a minute.

I told you I should have sleep on the first place.

A piece by : Fiya Muiz
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English Task

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one day my English teacher told me to write a paragraph of my worst story. I ended up scrolling the innocent paper with few times barbarian scratch and keep brain storming what would I write. I wasn't the typical person that remember anything that related to disappointment - including anything worse. But then after forty five minutes doing nothing and one simple entrance, I came up with this:

My Worst Story

I felt worst when I came up to the sober point when I admit myself that I was in love.
The idea of love itself would changed by the time going, maybe when we all grown up soon, love would looked better than today.
When I was eight, maybe I thought love was when a boy shared his lunch with me.
When I was thirteen or fourteen, I thought love was a happy feeling that wrapped me when the person was around.
But I realized things as I got here, my perspective developed into something new,
love was something more than that.
I felt worst when I was in love with someone – the feeling of not wanting time to end or even for the clock to ticks a second forward, hoping it could last forever, in that moment. The feeling of unbearable subjection, or had been trying to resist the charm over and over again.
Those things compiled to one, and became the worst.
I suppose, that was my worst story,
and I didn’t even bother to try to get rid of it.

Alifia Nuril

XII HUMANITY

A piece by : Fiya Muiz
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Land Locked Blues

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It felt awfully depressing when I couldn't write anything. And not able to find the main reason for the writer's block it self increased the pressure of inconvenient feeling. Or maybe, more to denying the cause of the writer's block - due to the unacceptable reason which didn't make any sense to the common thoughts.

The previous day wasn't the first time I got beaten by the mood.

I felt things that I haven't felt it for a while and made me locked my self inside the bathroom and think the accuracy of what I just felt.

It was something deep and fragile.

I wouldn't tell my self, "I'm okay" before I was able to write anything here. No matter how rough this entry would end up like.

As long I was able to write, then I'm doing, at least, pretty fine. Two days ago, two of my best friend leaving this town. Again.

The news was lame and out of date, I should have enough time to acknowledge and ignore the point of someone leaving because the others earlier before should have taught me something. You know, letting go..

But as days went forward, the urge of separation has stole my brain out of me. The sanity for keeping wide awake and conscious, almost drowned somewhere in between airport.

It felt more real as 4 of my close friends went to the states and Switzerland.

I always put them between my prayers, wishing them a good luck. I should have thank god for giving Mark Zuckenberg, whoever his name was, the idea for inventing facebook. Keeping touch with them half the world away through cyber world was a little relief.

Lots of news I've heard this week. The week when I abandoned this blog perfectly. Week that stole my clear state of mind. I may say, it was the worst week I'm being me in 2010.

Just... don't make me to get back there.

I'll lose my mood instantly.

A piece by : Fiya Muiz
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We Can't Pretend Airplanes As a Shooting Stars.

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Imagine a girl, on her table, staring at her laptop, typing any words that passed through her mind. Accompanied by semi-bright bed lamp by the corner of the room.

It was cold and within the towel wrapped her wet hair, a midnight writing wouldn't help. a midnight conversation should have helped but it won't help. a midnight movie couldn't help.

She should have been in bed, sleep or dreaming in her sleep.

Greet the pillow and the brand new sheet. Anywhere beside the desk where held her desperation.

A light to keep her sober from love.

She just lied to herself for not wanting the good night kiss; She kept denying she actually need sleep.

Those two swollen red eyes haunting the moon for not changing shifts with sun, moments of despair wasn't enough for her, the wasted tears weren't enough. An hour ago, bathroom floor was her hero for not pushing her to stand on her own, which allowed her to sit, and cope with a feeling that was so... fragile.

She giving up for the towel. Her dark wavy hair smelled like a morning breeze resemblance from the shampoo she used. Still wet, out of control.

Just like her feeling towards the background picture on her cellphone - exaggeration arise inside the poems she made. Inside every writings she made.

She was okay.

At least, she was trying to be okay.

Honestly, the bass was too loud to be forgotten.

and the airplane? too big to be a shooting star. It's going to take someone to somewhere far, anyway.

A piece by : Fiya Muiz
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Stand There, and Watch Me Burn.

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Whenever my mind was producing excessive thoughts, very often I would like to have my self alone.

And bathroom was the perfect solitary place where nobody could heard you except yourself.

Your secret should be safe. The tears would be undiscovered, just like the other thoughts.

I wasn't sure why I'm writing this.

I've been living the reality of overwhelming thought for these past three days. All Time Low was here.

After the long and exaggerative waiting - They finally arrived and within one long deep breathe, they moved on.

Their lives were never settle, it still hard to believe when time passed too fast. They're in Japan now.

They've left Jakarta.

But that wasn't the reason why I'm writing this. I guess.

I learned that it wasn't healthy when you had too much anything for anyone. Too much will never do good.

Uh, wait. That wasn't the main reason why I'm writing this.

I wrote this because I just seen a face. A face that set my fingers unease. A face that makes me want to write although I wasn't sure what to talk and why. That face hide thousand of answers for my questions. As if he was a living question mark that I wish I own by the end of my question and able to gives me an answer in the same time.

That face kept too much things I would like to know and understand.

A face that doesn't suits any of my curiosity but the truth has the other way around. A face that never fail to make me laugh and cry harder after. A face that I would gladly like to share my hot chocolate and doughnuts for breakfast.

In the weirdest way a gravity can pull anything towards,

That face is my current favorite presence I would like to feel all the time, low or high.

I guess I'm over-dosed.

Mind me.

A piece by : Fiya Muiz
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This Isn't My Weekend, But It's Gonna be My Year!

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Dear August 4th,

I've been waiting for the day since three months ago and you're finally here.

My body still ache and fresh like a flesh out of the oven.

But first let me tell you what All Time Low means to me,

Not being conceited or anything, those bands that I listened to were not too famous to do any world tour.

And when my heart caught the undeniable sex appeal from those Baltimore kids, God heard my untold wish to brought them here.

Washed out the curiosity upon my wild mind.

I just watched All Time Low live.

with my eyes.

my own eyes.

All Time Low: the band with a guitarist that I want to get married with. the band that I've been seeing through internet everyday. the band that ruled every inch of my belongings (books, desktop background, cell phone background, posters, you name it.)

I can't recall either I was in love with Jack's eyebrows first or their song.

I built this perfect image of those lucky bastards. Too perfect to be compared with the reality. I was expecting too much.

And when I saw them, nasty sweats all over me was the last thing I cared about. I just jumped with the songs and lights. I swear.

I saw Jack. Alive. And my mission to get Jack here in Jakarta with beard has successfully done.

and the main two things were:

1. I'm gonna see them again in the future for sure.

2. Be. A. Fucking. Musician. In. A. Fucking. Band. I might really gonna go and get married with Jack someday.

or Alex, or Rian. or even golden boy, Zack.

They were good but I had this idea, they were just five normal people. Nothing more or less.

Maybe they had better luck to travels around the world, and get praised by millions of girls, just like I do.

They are normal like the random foreigner I met by the chance on Ubud or Kuta street in Bali.

They really looked like them.

It was weird to have the thought.

I was suppose to feel entirely happy.

but I just... found out that they are normal and real. Not that I hate it, they're not that way in the way my eyes sees them 12 hours ago.

Conclusion: I did not regret in any kind of form being a part of tonight and their solid army fans. They ARE a good performers, artist, musician, and all those shits. I love them. So this year is totally my year.

A piece by : Fiya Muiz
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