Love is Easy

McFly | uncategorized

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This is the story of how I fall in and out of love.

I have fallen in love once. It was beautiful, the kind of love where I invested all my emotions. But then day by day, I am starting to lose the reason why I fell in love with them in the first place. The love I had grew weary and I was not anyway near the place to save myself from losing. I started not to pay attention as much, I started not to care before soon I began to stop loving them. They have changed, their voice, their sound. But I suppose, most of all is that I have changed. I probably have grown older. The era of admiring popular culture without filter had gone. The mechanism behind entertainment industry had flashed out the dirt, I just could not see pass it. I just couldn't love them anymore as they are. I remember the first time I saw them live and how smitten I was, how I thought that was the best day of my life. They were the happiness I was longing for, they symbolised every idea I wanted to believe in. Long ago, if love had a sound, they were it. McFly was how love sounded like to me.

It started from a film, their weird charm as an English band in the midst of cold hearted bowling centre in New York caught my attention. There moment on, I fell almost in the thin line between obsession and admiration. I loved everything about them. Not just their music, they had inspired me to write, to imagine and to dream. They were the one I have invested my early youth in. I fell in love with them out of the naivety, out of the trial on learning how to love, the first times, admiring them for they were. Loving them was easy. I loved them without any standardisation of life, any threshold or criteria. Because I loved them before life happens, before idealism of reality shaped up the way my eyes flickers.

I am now, living one hour drive away from where they are based, plenty of opportunities to see them live, perhaps passed them by the street, and maybe, to have another happiest day of my life, but then I stopped. Today, they are not what make the best day of my life. My idealism has changed, they are no longer representing the objectives I wanted, or wished they could have. This is where I began I wanted, expected something out of them. I no longer love them unconditionally. I have standards, my feelings for them changed. As soon as I got closer to them, I retrieved, decided to say goodbye to the young love I have had. At the back of my head, this is what I fear the most in love; that it grows – it may live and die, too. That I grow, that the other person also grows. How can one stays in love forever if everything is bound to change?

Although every time I see them around, in occasions, just like last night on the telly, the butterflies always come back, briefly. 

A piece by : Fiya Muiz
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Refleksi Cermin

bahasa

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Aku dan dia duduk berhadapan, dia tampak lelah, kantung matanya memberatkan tatapan dia yang tajam, sayu. Seperti aku. Tapi, setidaknya dia tampak lebih bersinar. Di matanya masih ada harapan. Kita berdua berada pada umur dimana konflik batin tidak luput dari agenda sehari-hari. Setiap hari, hampir setiap waktu. Dimana definisi benar dan salah selalu di pertanyakan. Ketika moral yang seputih kapas itu rasanya ingin di lepaskan.

"Semua dimulai dari situ nggak sih, Fiya?" Dia bertanya setelah aku menceritakan pikiranku. "Dari hal-hal kecil. Bohong sedikit, kamu bilang. Nanti lama-lama kamu bohong terus sampe kamu ngga mau balik lagi untuk jujur." Dia terus nyerocos. "Ini yang bikin dunia kotor." Katanya sambil menghembuskan napas kecil. Akhirnya dia berhenti sejenak. Giliran aku yang berbicara dengan tatapan tanpa tujuan, "Tapi kan dunia emang udah kaya begitu. Kotor. Banyak yang bohong, banyak yang curang." Suaraku terdengar pasrah, kalah, tanpa gairah, bahkan bagiku sendiri.

"Iya," Dia terdengar sabar, "Tapi siapa yang waktu itu pernah bilang kalo tujuan hidupnya dia pengen ngubah dunia jadi tempat yang lebih baik?"

Aku terdiam. Aku tahu siapa yang dia maksud.

Lalu dia melanjutkan kalimatnya, "Kalo orang yang bilang itu aja ngga mulai dari dirinya sendiri, gimana mau bikin dunia jadi tempat yang lebih baik?"

Aku berhenti bertanya. Dia ada benarnya juga, gumamku dalam hati. Lalu aku berdiri dari duduk ku dan pergi. Dia pun juga mengikutiku, meninggalkan refleksi matahari pagi sendiri pada cermin itu.

A piece by : Fiya Muiz
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Piece

fiction

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"I may not actually miss you," she says as she reclined back to the sofa booth with a glass of white wine on her hand. This is her third glass in the last hour at the Pub. They have been there since the night was young and quiet until it grows into a wild, wise old self. Two past(s) are sitting side by side, connected with drink at the present. He rests his arm to the backrest, behind her neck. In the midst of contemporary upbeat music and distant conversations in the room, they are recollecting memories of the past over a bottle of Chardonnay, "Maybe I miss our story, how good we were, how, in love we were." She stops briefly as if memories of them flashes before her eyes, then continued, "I do miss you, but as part of the story." He listens carefully as he watches her expression changed. He cannot put his own thoughts whether to agree or disagree. All that he knows that he is there, with her, after so many seasons apart. She is staring at nothing. Her eyes are lost in her own words, and perhaps a little in the sips of bitter sweet wine. While his, lost in her reddened cheek. How much wine has she had? he thought. She then continued, "I know if we were to stay together, it would be like placing the wrong pieces of the puzzle, two pieces that don't fit together, doesn't matter how bad you tried to work it out." 

"But we were a part of a damn good puzzle." Words are pouring out of her heart, like droplets of rain from the grey clouds. She feels a stroke of summer breeze out of her loud retrospective thoughts almost as if the wind wipes her sweat off, removing an ounce of worry. We're the wrong piece of the puzzle? Or are we the perfect piece but belongs to a different puzzle? He murmured to himself. It gets difficult for him to pay attention to her as his stare keeps drifting to her wine-kissed lips, remembering how good it felt when it belong to his.

A piece by : Fiya Muiz
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Vain

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I have just read a book called the Psychopath Test by an English journalist called Jon Ronson. In some of the chapters, he talked about a psychopath test founded by Bob Hare, to define whether or not someone fall under the description of psychopath -- one must have fit to over thirty lists to define as one. One of the points is grandiose sense of self-worth. They usually full of themselves. This gets me thinking that, there is a smudge of psychopath essence within each and every one of us. Look at those social media as an immediate instance that so close to us. It allows us to update about our lives, often successes rather than losses, pretty pictures with many likes. Facebook has its likes, Twitter has its, ugh, I don't know, what I had for breakfast information? The list may go on forever.

The recent 'exclusive' social media called Path launched in 2010, offered a unique characteristic that differ them from the rest of other mainstream social media. It allows only 150 friends to share the content. This is supported by a research carried out by Professor Dunbar from Oxford University that in general people have 150 closest friends. I genuinely intrigued when the first time a friend of mine introduced me to this app. I soon fallen into the joyous experience sharing bits of my favorite things with friends that I actually know. However, this soon disappoint me when Path published an official statement: due to the growing popularity, and demand, they increase the numbers of friends to 500. This somehow diminish the exclusivity of its initial launch. It almost have no difference with other social media such as Facebook and Twitter.

This sets me into a retrospective mood on why I, or any other people, use social media in the first place. I would like to connect with friends that I don't get to see every single day, I thought. It is true, social media is a platform to connect, to share. But then somehow it abused the main purpose. It becomes a medium to sell, to promote and most of all, to feed our internal ego. The amount of likes or loves, matter. And this perhaps what forces Path to increase the number of friends. It is either Professor Dunbar's research may have been incorrect that people have more than 150 inner circle of friends, or it is because what people want is not exclusivity or privacy, but instead numbers of acknowledgement. The more loves, the more it is validated that they are matter — perhaps worth it.

Another phenomena that tickles me, is the emergence of popularity of askfm. It is says on the website that it's a global community to build self-confidence, as they are encourage to put forward the users opinion. I personally think askfm suits best for public figure that may need, another, platform to answer question from their fans. In this website, it allows anonymity to avoid the fear of being scrutinized, or shyness to ask questions. The concept is interesting, but very fragile in the same time. Instead of 'fostering uninhibited, truthful conversations' in question and answer process, this site serves as another platform for cyber bullying. So far, there are many teenage suicide cases in the U.K alone because of hatred comments in askfm.

Furthermore, it is also another way to indirectly to put an individual vanity's up on their sleeves. To certain extent, the fact that there is a person out there that is bothered to ask for one's opinion then follows with appraisal as if they are one of Gaudi's sculptures breathe a mist of proudness. Maybe it is the reason why it gets so popular — it is a self-gratifying web. Most of the question circles around themselves, and based on a neuroscience research, everybody's favourite topic is themselves. These what social media do to the society. It boost their ego like a balloon. The higher the number of likes, it puts them on a higher scale of better, 'respected' figure in a cyber space. We live in the culture of vain.

It is everywhere. It is not just in social media. It is in job application, too. Because it is always feels good to hear compliments. It makes you feel as if you are the centre of the universe and everything and everyone orbits around you. It is unavoidable, it cannot escape from any human being, including myself. Maybe it lies within this writing, too. That I am not just writing this to put forward my opinion, but I also want someone out there agree with me, and tell me, I am right. Thus, it gives me a validation of being acknowledge. I would say what a gruesome world we live in now. But then again, the hope to change this way of thinking is passed beyond difficult. I shall end this post with a deep sigh. 

A piece by : Fiya Muiz
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