The Past

A Letter to the Bartender

Dear Bartender,

I understand that you are part of the night's treasure. When the lights are on and slightly dimmed, then music starts to eat away the silence of faded day, that is when you are starting to breathe in life to the restless evening. That is when the story begins as you pour drinks into my glass.

Image and video hosting by TinyPic
I can tell those eyes have witnessed series of events -- or perhaps, was once bruised when you were trying to assist a drunk man to leave the premise but then aggressively refused to do so. Aside from being able to make the greatest drink ever served, those gifted pair of hands may have been bled when you were trying to clean up pieces of broken glass on the floor that accidentally dropped by irresponsible adult in the middle of their intense argument. Night after night, those lips are trained to tell the sweetest compliments as rich and intoxicating as the flavor of alcohol, which sometimes may get you a kiss or two from beautiful girls of your dream that happen to walk in to the bar. I also know, you are a great listener. Those ears have heard the darkest secret and lies, the sweetest love story, day in and day out complaints, numbers of swears, flirts or even one night stand invitations that you said yes to, as if those are your supper before sunrise calls you to sleep.

These does not justify anything in your behalf; the perception of sins and your good deeds. You are still the free-spirit angels of the night and as human as you can be when I see you sneaking to the corner of the bar, stealing one or two sips of whiskey as you catch your breath in between serving the customers. All I wanted to say is: to me, you are not just a bartender who serves drink behind the wooden bar and slippery floor; you are the fresh air, the holiday or getaway from mundane routines -- boring lectures, assignments, faux-hope of unreturned texts and even heartbreak. Sometimes, you are the only good thing I look forward to the entire week.

By any chance, you may turn up to be the ideal husband or the guy every parents warned their daughter about -- but either way, I'd still be willing to clean up the champagne foil cut on your thumb if you let me.


Your customer.
A piece by : Fiya Muiz


I have Language Matters exam coming up in two days. Yes, the unit is called Language Matter. I'm not sure any of you are familiar with the topic or not; just in case you are clueless, it is about Language and telling us how it matters. Ha. It is basically a creation out of a bunch of over-thinker's mind, seeing pass through the subtle denotation of language, or text - how it uses in different situation, what it refers to and last but not least, how it relates with gender. Yes, this is where feminism topic arise. Feminism. Ugh. Probably the third most complicated topic after religion and politics/sex. Regardless, it seems like bullshit in the beginning because language world is (almost) completely... completely... subjective or complex. It really depends on how one would define what it means. I think, without trying, I have already set my mind to ignore the beauty of the complexity of language. (This also maybe because the lecture is at 9 in the morning, and I'm definitely NOT a morning person - so it is either I'm still half-awake in the lecture or... no, that's probably it.) But then, as I'm being a slightly good student, when I revised for the exam I slowly and gradually, starting to see what I haven't been able to see these past months. It's actually interesting! (Or maybe I'm drunk)

It is weirdly fascinating seeing the way you arrange words can have massive effects on something. For example, if you are able to write a complaint letter using persuasive words without sounding like a complain and they would probably end up feeling sorry for you, and at your service immediately and happily, instead of feeling grumpy. Okay, it is a little bit devilish, but hey, who gives a shit. Words are like those Moulin Rouge actresses persuade their potential 'funding', minus the romance part where she ends up falling in love with the charming scriptwriter. Oh, wait! Scriptwriter; it must be because they are good with words! Nevertheless, my point is, it is interesting if you take a careful look. The way it persuades and potentially make your life easier as it is possible to make your way to, maybe technically, anything just by using the right language or let say, words. Also, it covers psychoanalysis terms in Language and gender. Speaking of feminism, the word it self sounds tiring to me. I was kind of bummed to study those (mostly) women's theories arguing about power and men. I mean, let it go, girls. In my opinion, as long as you think yourself have the power, then that's enough. You don't necessarily have to declare in a book. Okay, sorry, I'm off the track again. Yes, however, after I read shitload of articles about it, it started to make sense. Let me attach several points I came across and immediately laughed at (I suppose in a good way because oh boy, I can relate with it, like tots. Pun intended) then highlighted with bright yellow marker:

  • In effect, women inclined to see relationship in terms of intimacy, connection and disclosure whereas men are inclined to see them in terms of hierarchy, status and independence.-- Martin Montgomery, 1996. An Introduction to Language and Society. P. 150
  • Women talk about troubles to share them; men talk about problems to solve them.  – Both of them speak the same language but use it for different interactive purposes and at this level that the most profound misunderstanding arises. -- Martin Montgomery, 1996. An Introduction to Language and Society. P. 151
  • He: wanna go to the movies?
    She: I don't know... Do you?
    This is one traditional form of the male-female game. Linguistic Politics: she is trying to retain what power she has by never being proved incompetent;  by leaving all the decision up to him, she gets him to make the commitment and run all the risks. -- Robin Lakoff, 1989. Talking Power: the politics of language. P. 18.
Boom. I leave you to it. *wink*

Image and video hosting by TinyPic

A piece by : Fiya Muiz