The Past

We're Caught Up In The Crossfire of Heaven and Hell

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.

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A piece by : Fiya Muiz

Gimme Back The Sun

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.

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A piece by : Fiya Muiz

I wish. I wish. I wish

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

Give San Fransisco a Hello

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.

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A piece by : Fiya Muiz

Take Photographs, Take All Your Memories

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!

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Tio (Minnesota, United States.)

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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

To Write Love On His Arms

"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.."

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A piece by : Fiya Muiz