Alifia — You, Me and Five Bucks

This Very One Place

I once dislike this very one place. Not hate, just a glimpse of uncool vibe. A constant failure happens every time I tried to see the other side that honestly keeps thousand of beautiful matters. Somehow, the flaws are just good enough to cover the beauty all up, thus it makes harder to love. Very often the blame goes down to the history, leaving this acres of islands on the on going developing title. Comparing to the other near/far neighbors, this place is still behind. Though I won't lose the faith that this place is going somewhere better. This very one place called my hometown. My own hometown.

Jakarta, Indonesia. You may have heard it somewhere on the news. Indonesia itself is a tropical island with summer season all year long. Mostly known with the sophisticated cultures and the natural disaster. Jakarta however, is the capital city of Indonesia; already been contaminated with common city culture, just like any other big cities but still with a little touch of Indonesian style. Tall skyscrapers and all-time traffic. Not to mention the countless cars due to the improper quality of the public transportation. This is where I grew up and sew most of memories. On the other hand, I find such a delightful salvation somewhere in the land of far far away. Flawless accent and skin. and bone structure. and cultures. You name it. End of story.

The last line, bring you the next paragraph, this is the reason why I had the idea of writing such a topic; hometown. I went for a little vacation last week, short trip to a country full of strangers along with different language. No matter how helpful English is, still my mother language is Indonesian. Being five days somewhere unfamiliar, makes me feel nothing more grateful for having a hometown, regardless to the flaws. Because it has been eighteen years of relationship, I feel like I own this place. I have grown such a connection, involuntarily. I know the streets. I know the people. Friends, big family, acquaintance, everyone. Awesome people in my life. Being very advance in terms of speaking the language. et cetera. Having the owning vibe, takes a lot of years, you see.

To be concluded, although my heart is attached to the other far far away land, there always be one essential part of my heart that will always belongs to this very one place. It probably needs another 18 years to assured me the far far away land as my hometown.

A piece by : Fiya Muiz
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He Who Does Not Gives A Shit

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This is an appreciation post dedicated to my dearest Jack. Jack Bassam Barakat was born in Baltimore, June 18th 1988. He was half lebanese half american. And with such genes running through his vein, it has successfully bringing out the pretty much awesomeness sex appeal within him. His talent also nowhere near the wasteland; he is currently positioning as guitarist in a band called All Time Low, the prince of pop-punk band on this generation.

He turned 23 today. No one particularly needs a reason why for falling for him because he just simply charming on his own way. He talks like a perv but I won't blame anybody who chose Blink 182 as their role model for not being slightly a pervert. Everything is only about sexual tension. He's just being up front and very transparent. Living his free life to the fullest, with nothing to hide in front of the media in this whole wide world. I know when he decides to settle, he will be the ideal husband.

To be honest, the first thing I noticed about him was his eye brows, about a year ago. Since then I just could not get off anything related to him. I think the introduction for his band won't be necessary. Last year ATL concert ticket in Jakarta already sold out within two days. Around 4000 tickets. Told you they are the pop-punk prince of this generation. This year wishes would be less nudity for him. And of course, all the best luck in this universe. That's all. Hope will be seeing him soon. Happy birthday dearest, Jack! big hug!

A piece by : Fiya Muiz
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Band Edition: The Scene Aesthetic

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They are The Scene Aesthetic consist of two young americans, Andrew De Torres and Eric Bowley. You will fall for them within the minute their songs caught your ears, just like I did. Their easy-listening, semi-acoustic set only with guitars, a little touch of electro-keyboard & melts my heart immediately.

The combination between two different types of voice sounds like as if it was a match made in heaven. Some says lyrics are the heart beat in a song, The Scene Aesthetic provide such enticing lyrics no-junk-kind-of-shit. Of course, the lyrics are mainly revolves around love, but TSA managed not to make it sound all to soppy and bullshit. It sounds sincere at its best.

Their recent album is Brother and Sisters; 18 tracks 3 acoustic version -- with the single, Beauty In The Breakdown. But my personal favorite song have to be Landon's Summer Diary. Or Never gonna let this go. Ah, it is quite hard to choose. You go on decide yourself. Buy the album on iTunes. Totally worth to hear & buy! Enjoy!

Here's their myspace, twitter and YouTube.

A piece by : Fiya Muiz
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Simpler Than Arts

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I had this major issue with my mind, since I was practically rely on it whenever I was trying to think. You know, there were few times that you need to think without getting influenced by anything. Including your other thoughts living side to side with your mind. That was why I had trouble for just simply update a blog. Aside from the mind, I also secretly had the (manipulative) perfectionist attitude; not to mention the high standard. Which somehow acting like charming man -- always got me.

I wanted this paragraph to be right. But somehow I, for myself, got twisted finding for the definition itself. Either I kept this on the draft which going to be junk forever always or I gave up writing. To be honest, I dislike the second option but gravity seemed on its side so I did it several times. I felt awful when I gave up writing. In any form. It felt like I just cheated on a math test or even my boyfriend. Or some sort of. You should know what I meant by now. Maybe because I had this relationship with writing that I never wanted to lose. So I forced myself, to the beat, for making any of this right.

The lack of ideas strangle me too during the daylight after I woke up from the dream world with Jack Barakat or Damon Salvatore. I actually had the idea in mind, but my finger just could not seem to pull it together. Due to the unfitted words every time I began to write. Because when it was wrong, you could just feel it. There, I ended up with nothing. Good old nothing. The best enemy of all time. Maybe the proverb about getting to know your enemy well may come out true. Or not. Nothing is a jerk. The worst jerk.

I have always wanted to be the hero among those jerks. Among everything. The hero of the heroes. Doing something good for others. As simple as that. Simpler than arts. Just that casual point that I would also like to plants inside this post. Inside every post or any of my writings in fact. The statistic shows that almost 57% people never cares about anything else beside themselves. So I know, there are a wide chance of you does not gives a shit on this. But I am writing it anyway.

Oh, and I just had this small operation to my keyboard. The 'G' currently having a complication for these past months. I did once type "my keyboard sucks" here a little while ago and I delete that one out because again, it just felt bad pointing out my horrible personal judgement. I sounded like a pity-full teenage drama queen.

I apologies if you expect all the above paragraphs should make any sense because... I don't think it sounds like so.

After all, through several failure attempts, here it goes. I made it through the PUBLISH NOW button. Suck it, sleepless soul! I sincerely hope this post helps you in some way. xx

"No matter how much I wanted to be alone, somehow secretly I wish for someone would say hi and engage me to a conversation which makes me forget the truth that I wanted to be alone.

No matter how much I enjoy doing nothing, I would like someone to call me and ask for a cup of coffee."

A piece by : Fiya Muiz
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Let's Get Together.

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I have this urge towards something which I found myself very determined in a way I could not tell in words. I just feel it and I know. But there are few minds out there which acknowledge my determination, have to go slightly against it. I never see myself being the subject of argumentation between the outer family. Being the one that judged with each of their own opinion. I never thought my eagerness may pour an ink on someone else's paper while I thought this only about mine's.

I have learnt from every occurrences throughout the days, not to be selfish in anytime. Now, from where I stand, I see me being selfish. There I also noticed between being determined and selfish left very thin line. If they think they would stop me now, I'd say they are a thousand hours late. I have reached the point where I have chose this path, and I am not going anywhere to change what I have decided. I have walked too far from the starting line. Not to mention, I barely remember where and how it started. Probably long ago, once in a fine day God just simply showed me His sign by pulling me in to series of coincidences, meeting people whom moved me and guide me to where I wanted to be.

I just need them to have their faith on me, because I do not need anyone to leave their doubt on me. In any possible form. I already had enough from myself during those hours of emptiness which usually stop by in a few chances. It might disappear rather quick if I have plenty of other's positivity on me. I would not ask much, a tap on my back or just a simple text, wishing me good luck and sincere support from the deepest part of their heart should be enough. Set aside the differences. Let's get together.

A piece by : Fiya Muiz
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We Own The Night

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Due to the overwhelming demand of focus on these past months I did not get the chance to hang out with my close friends. Sometimes I had the thought are we still even close?

And yesterday was a pay back.

One of my good friend was turning 18, so like the other birthdays we have prepared for midnight surprise. We were up two hours before midnight. Waited till midnight doing stupid things. This time we consist of Karin, Upal, Aryo, David, Reja, Goya, Nacil who was technically running away from her house without permission and last Adi, this was the first time he ever hang out with us. There were we, thirsted for bits of fun, owning the night. The birthday boy was Ryan, who did not join us before midnight. Roughly twelve past ten, we came to his house, nailing the surprise. A bit of food, drinks and cigars almost drown us in to further stupidity and laziness. Long story short, blame on the randomness, someone suggesting late night out to Puncak. Which was two hours away from the capital city, Jakarta and 13 degree lower than Jakarta. Then what the hell, to Puncak we go.

It was 3.18 A.M.

Took only thirty minutes from the regular two hours trip since the road was literally ours for the early morning. Followed by non-sense dare, the boys were shirtless during our brief trip to Puncak. Shirtless in the middle of the coldness. Lame of course, but they were genuinely awesome. The girls were enough laughing at their loss of endless shivers.

We pulled over; enjoying closer with the late night nature. While everyone was busy taking picture to keep forever, I did something I would like to do since long time ago.

I was lying on top of my friend's car bonnet and stare to the sky. I know, I know, another lame act but you should see yourself, since the first moment I laid my eyes on the sky I knew, I would not able to explain it on paragraph. It was just beautiful. Stars were shinning like a glitters on such a contrast background, plain dark sky. Pines trees stood tall. And some time there was this fog running over the stars, secretly hides its beauty.

Then I joined the rest of the crowds. Pictures.

On the way home, I saw the sun rise. Sun rise always be the best and my favorite part during the day. And I was entirely glad I could spend those moments with my good friends. I love them. The trip was rather amazing to remember forever as part of my high school keepsake.

Oh and, Happy Birthday Ryan!

P.S: these pictures contain bit of inappropriate content for eyes.