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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Hold On Skinny Love, What Happens Here?

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I tried not to get lost in stereo since the amplifier buzzed my back at the back seat of the car.

I had a long night.

and it's friendship day.

I fully dedicate this post for all those friends that have been going through everything with me.

To be honest I would like to write each every single name in my contacts but it would be too much so... I chose to sort things up; To make it short and quick, I'm going to write about the people I spent the long night with which means a lot to this year.

Happy friendship day, Riri!

You've been a helluva classmate and part of bodrex.

I like you more when you were drunk! :p

Happy friendship day, Eja!

Can't thank you enough for the wasted gasoline,

driving no where with us!

Happy friendship day, Emir!

Even though you're the-most-slowest-person-to-move ever,

I'm still happy being your friend :)

Happy friendship day, Ryanchlo!

Can't thank you enough for all the advice

and be my loyal listener - like I have my own personal

radio show - you're the coolest ever

Happy friendship day, Andra!

Can't thank you enough to accept my

midnight phone call and listen the way I blabbered too much.

You're the best

Happy friendship day, Tio!

Although you like to scares me about the elevator,

I can't thank you enough for all the tasty foods you bought for me and the long road!

Dammit. Iloveyouguyssobaditalmosthurtseriously. ThankyouforthenightandImeanit.

A piece by : Fiya Muiz
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