What I Know About Now

Light

2012-02-10T05:48:00.000+07:00

He is like the light. He makes me sees things. He makes even mineral water looked elegant standing on its simple eloquent transparency as if it bleeds bubble in a form of evaporation. The light emphasize on every little detail how small and fragile bubbles are. He is like the bright sun on its peak during mid-day, sneaking through the window behind the half opened curtain. He sees what is in the dark. He creates shadow upon his presence. Longing awe carried out as sole expression. He is the light that never goes out.

Honey, Everything Happens For A Reason.

2012-01-31T06:34:00.003+07:00

I have been away from thinking for quite a while. There is this kind of feeling where I know, I have to write regardless all the duties that needs to be done. England, however, is getting more real. Comparing to what I imagined four months ago, where it was only in my head and most likely now, it is actually happening.

I would say real because, I can feel everything. I have been happy. I have been hurt. I have been feeling down low. I have been at the top. I have lived, you see. The best thing so far, I noticed things I may have never noticed before or never, if I was not in England.

Every individual I have met, actually taught me something. Big things, or the littlest thing. They have took at least small role in my life. Each and everyone of them.

Moreover, I am back on track after the hideous Christmas break emotional ride. As if it happened as far as one minute ago. Weekdays, classes. Fun. It might sound weird, but I do not mind weekdays. I do not mind the college and everything; which the complete opposite what I might feel back in Indonesia. Weekend, out and about. The highlight throughout the whole week. Ultimate fun. Life is good when you see it good. Quoted from a friend of mine, just let everything falls in to the right places.

Sharing the good vibes, x x x x.

The More I think About It, The Less I Do Control

2012-01-22T11:33:00.000+07:00

Life is indeed a constant changes; I have no idea why being in England, living alone, intensifies the way I am feeling on every present moment as if nothing is nearly, it always reach the top. All out. Once I feel lonely, I feel lonely as hell. Hurt? Disappointed? Happy? As if I might die because of it. See, the more I think about it, the more frustrated I got, the less I am in control. It is quite hard to get a hold of myself, recently. Not that I ever been, but still, at least I noticed that now. Too many objects, and/or subjects, trying to play with my mind. Thus, in some sense, I can feel every tiny bit of changes within my bare skin all the way inside my head. I questioned, but hardly find any clear answer. And I am still questioning. This is not indicate I dislike the life I'm living, or giving any objection towards it. This just an individual explanation of something unfamiliar.

I'm staying, man.

Opposites Attract

2012-01-13T07:43:00.002+07:00

Easy things are not compelling enough to let the brain works and telling the unconscious senses move. The level of attraction varies within the amount of difficulties involved. The more, the higher. Although this may not likely to apply on specific section of math.

Bad mood is contagious. The best suggestion would be to stay inside the room or take long long shower until the negativity washed away leaving nothing to carry on. Unless, you do want it to spread.

Plan is not necessarily needed - - just make omelette. In some cases, things just simply not meant to be in your hands to control.

Things always change as the clock ticks and earth rotate. Thus, make the best out of everything. The best pain, the best sorrow, the best happiness, the best excitement, the best joy, the best friend, the best relationship, the best hours, the best drinks, the best night, the best class, the best whatever it is x

Kiss and Tell

2012-01-12T17:57:00.001+07:00

Kiss and tell, everybody else and you're at your best,
When I'm making baby steps,
And I'm sick and tired of being the good girl.
And I've done my time,
You should hit the back of the line.

(You Me At Six, 2011)

It Was Rather Funny

2012-01-09T18:24:00.001+07:00

sometimes it is just plainly funny, having the feeling of wanting to marry someone that you have not yet personally know well enough. How is this possible? Does the reality dead already?

Bliss

2012-01-01T14:34:00.000+07:00

Dear 2011,

Thank you for being the greatest year so far. Thank you for being remarkably eventful. Thank you for being totally kick arse!

Might have to start with the unexpected yet the second best thing that ever happened in my life -- so far -- meeting the compass of my life, Dougie Lee Poynter along with his band, on April. Had been struggling to find a way to reach them quite a bit to Australia and even, London, but eventually they were the one that came to me. To Indonesia. Leaving me with more love for them than I had before. The whole six years of waiting felt like a blink when captured him within my gaze. I think, that is love everybody.

Being in the United Kingdom, probably is the first best thing that ever happened to me, so far. Best as in not only about the joy knowing new things; also about the horror of living alone on my own, the survival, the war against my own head, the homesick, the tears, the almost-depression and the weeks of getting back up to the right track I wanted to be. I have gained loads of priceless awareness, knowledge through the experience. Through times that you have no other options, but just to get through it.

The surroundings are not less appealing than the actual culture. During these past three months in Bournemouth, I have known one of the best human beings that ever walked in to my life. The diversity of background, language, culture and beliefs spiced up the sense of relationship between me and each one of them. Their personality captivate me in a good way of admiration. They simply showed me what this world has to offer. They, put me to various range of spot to see different perspective of life which I never thought before.

A week ago I would not thought I might have this, cool New Year's Eve party on my first year 16 hours away from home. As I may have mentioned, I lived my life very spontaneously for these past three weeks. I jumped on every possible opportunity in front of my eyes. I, pretty much, did not plan anything. Even if I did, it was only 24 hours away or so. Hence, there was this secure feeling every time I wrapped up the dates and things I might look forward to.

Mother nature saved me by bringing series of events all together. Hide, the Japanese, decided to stay in Bournemouth with his lovely Slovakian girlfriend, Kristina. Along with the invitation from Alex, the English, my New Year's Eve was pretty much kicked arse! Although this group missing two great guys; Kim, the Korean, and Daniel, the racist German.

However that did not stop the fun. We went to Sixty Million Postcards. The ultimate favorite pub. It was rather funny, the first pub I have ever been to in the U.K ended up as our favorite pub in town. After couple of drink, which Alex had started earlier ahead than the rest of us, we decided to moved to Bliss. Not my kind of place but I could not care less. Here, where the countdown happened. No fireworks due to the light British rain. No movie-business as well; for example, hot lad coming towards me during the last three seconds of 2011.

My friends were enough to keep me content and as the matter of fact, happy. Hide, Alex, Kristina, Genji, Dimitri and one other Khazakstan guy. They were the person I spent the last three seconds of 2011 with. They were all nice! Oh boy, I had a good time! I can smell from afar, this year is going to be more fun than ever and definitely will be our year! You know the best is yet to come!

The Nekat Traveler: The Best Is Yet to Come.

2011-12-31T07:03:00.000+07:00

Cambridge, Cambridgeshire

I was putting Cambridge a lot more responsibility as this city was the first city to begin whatever I was trying to begin with. And the job was well done. Cambridge treasures most of the bits I fancy about Britain's architecture which would come up within the list of why I love United Kingdom if someone ask me. Not quite sure why, but I feel safe in Cambridge more than any other places I have visit. Walking through the dark and quiet alley did not bother me much. All the posh colleges transmitting the aura of intelligence. Injects you with endearing imaginary passion to get accepted in to one of the fortune-cost universities. Honestly, I like that. I fall for Cambridge instantly. As if we are best friend in some other parallel universe.

York, Yorkshire

It takes a while to get to York from Cambridge by train. Two stops. A small town called Ely and then Peterborough. Seeing York was like looking at one lousy charming gentleman, traveling with a guitar case on his back. Very, very attractive. But in the same time you could feel irritated with the scruffy beard, giving the sense something dangerous and rebellious hidden.

In terms of the structure, York wins out of everything. The old buildings, vintage-like alleys made you forget you were on the 21st century The existence of iPad nor auto-tune. It felt more like you were in the middle of Hogsmeade; somewhere behind the aged pub door, might lead you to a secret passage to Hogwarts.

Rain was pouring hard when I got out of the hotel. Gloomy weather probably one of the least thing any traveler wished for. Although, the wet and everything adding the art of traveling. I believe, without rain York would looked better. It still looked great under the rain, though.

Durham, County Durham

Pronounced, Darem. The idea to visit Durham came less than ten minutes when I stepped on York train station. At first, I thought we were going home. However, this city was very mysterious. It was like the small version of York. Up hill high street, a massive cathedral, river with bridges. My bad, my feet did not fully support me to discover this city with proper enthusiasm. Also I got there when the sun already set. Spent only couple hours.

But one thing Durham got me going; the mysterious bookstore. There was one bookstore at the end of the main street, deep down where shops were getting least interest and less lightings. Waterstone. The Durham University merchandize that first pulled me in, while I could see from the outside, there was nobody inside but the cashier lady.

The magic neatly hidden on the second floor. Visitor might just lose the attention on the first floor because there was not much going on. But on the second floor, for me personally, I found a whole rack of my sanctuary. All kinds of philosophy books voicelessly calling out my name. I found my favorite bookstore in the whole world, in Durham. The city I never knew before I went to York train station!

In conclusion, this trip saved me. x

I Remember, I Was Once Happy

2011-12-28T07:03:00.000+07:00

I have been going around this country little by little. It might look tempting from the outer look, but it actually involves a lot of feelings. Being here, away from home, in such early age as most of the people judgement, allows me to feel a lot of things. Staying sane and surviving everything takes a lot either. I am not going to say it is easy because it definitely far from it, but this makes me feel real. Feeling everything, making me feel more real than ever in my existence as if I can feel my own presence in this world by trying to survive the whole deal.

Oh, boy, this takes a lot. I am traveling mad as rabbit -- I do not think I would do any of this if I am in Indonesia. This, just one of those things happens once. Since the relationship between me and plans, are not going very well. I am being the most spontaneous version of myself more than I have ever been throughout the last nineteen years old life.

I just came back from a trip to three cities without hotel or any transportation booking in advance. This time, my partner in crime was Fikri, a dear friend back in Junior High. No, actually we were not much of a friend. We fight a lot. But we are a good friend now. I might have gone mad if he was not around three days ago. I will have a special post for the further details about this awesome trip, soon.

And meanwhile, here I am, alone on a double bed size I have not had for a while, under flower prints duvet, in southern London. Feeling awkwardly grateful. I am currently staying at my uncle's friend place for several days, having no plan at all. I am just trying new things. Thing I have never done before. Observing local family, for example. Living how they live daily between this cold weather. And not denying any rumors, so far they are more than lovely.

Although I am aware morning will come eventually and ask me what's the plan for tomorrow which I do not fancy that. I have been living these past two weeks without plan. I always come up during the last second. Quite thrilling, yet the pressure for having plans is overwhelming and irritating in the same time. Thus, I prefer midnight than morning. Which the complete opposite of me, a month ago. As life goes on, things change. Or as things change, life goes on. Same difference.

I beg your pardon for the lack of post. I was not in the best shape to control my state of mind during this Christmas holiday. I just can not wait to get back on track and live the life of happy days again!! Oh, happy Christmas and new year in three days!! :) x x

Dear Santa

2011-12-11T05:29:00.001+07:00

Dear santa, if you do really exist, but do not worry, I am starting not to doubt the existence of a lot of things recently, do not feel excluded or anything. there is no offense implies here.

How are you, Santa? Hope you are doing well. My name is Fiya, has been 19 years old for approximately two weeks and two days. Assuming going through the phase of thirteen years old teenager all over again. I am new in this town, Bournemouth. Small town on the Southern part of England, the one with the lovely beach. Sixteen hours away from the first home. Busy making this town as the second. Getting there, I believe.

It is just this Christmas thing, Santa. This is my first year spending Christmas holiday where everyone actually celebrates. Both in a way the majority of people's beliefs and/or just an inherited culture. And this might be the first time I ever feel this lonely because most of the best people I know in this new town, are coming home. Home where the loved ones are, doing mostly what I have always looking forward during Ramadhan.

I have no rights to declare this is not fair, because this is a rather very sensitive situation as I am seeing everything through a subjective perspective, the natural selfish human being kind of way. Gah, I despise it because by only acknowledge it does not help AT ALL. If my life is a TV series, the other supporting characters that builds the story going, will soon to be leaving the scene for quite a long while. Nearly one month. Thus, the tendency to feel like going home increased 110%.

Daniel, the racist German, a walking general knowledge book, a prick and full time best friend, going to thy green Scotland meeting his lovely girlfriend. Hidetaro, the punk rock Japanese guy slash soon to be psychologist and a prick, going to Amsterdam and Poland to get basically shitfaced and collects the best of freedom along with the English Alex, who basically only worship single life freedom and being a prick as his part time occupation. Whilst Kim, the Korean prick who believe he was half black, already in London as we speak. And so on, and so on, this list might still on going contains nearly 98% of jealousy hence I'd better end here.

Here I am, on the floor, typing, with 1/4 cold crepes Dan bought at the Christmas market earlier, technically trying to let go the fact that I am not going to come back home in the next three weeks and pretty much have NO idea what am I going to do the next days forward. It has to be noted, not that I hate this town or country, it is simply because the undeniable tension to spend this kind of free days with the loved ones and familiarity of Jakarta won't leave me alone especially when it stays within my unconsiousness.

I might as well stays on this floor, in front of this laptop for the next three weeks. I might. Although unlikely to happen because I believe by then I might lose my mind, and I have moved to the mental hospital. Juuuuuuuust kidding. My family and friends especially Daniel and Hide would have kick my arse already. Which they already kind of did this past one week though the result seemingly not yet responding. YET.

I might just write a blog forever until the next term start and when I get back with actual things to do. Oh Santa, I just want to spend this festive holiday with my loved ones. Family and friends. Considering I have no boyfriend to mention. Quoting once the famous Britney Spears' song, my loneliness is killing me. Maybe Santa, just a little hopeful maybe, you might help me. Rumor has it, there is this Christmas miracle.

I have no chimney, I won't open my window cause baby, it's cold outside and I will lock the door for the sake of feeling safe, but Santa, I still hope for Christmas miracle. Not sure how you delivers the miracle package and in what kind of form, but you can tell the sun as the light creeping in through the window every morning where I always am in the most vulnerable state during the whole day, or through the cold winter air, slides in between the small gaps underneath the door, and everywhere.

Santa, I am not crying, I am not pouting and I have been a good girl according to my dictionary so please. I know you are coming to town, make sure you come to Bournemouth. Then prove me, okay? glühen wine on me if we meet. The talking goose on the German market really entertaining, I tell you. Oh, hope you do surf on the internet otherwise you can not read this lonely letter of mine.

Don't keep me waiting. You know we all hate that. Looking forward to hear from you. x x

Your curious yet desperados little fan,

Fiya.

Morrie

2011-12-10T00:54:00.001+07:00

"Life is a series of pulls back and forth. A tension of opposites.

Like a wrestling match.

Which sides win?

Love wins. Love always wins."

(Morrie Schwartz, 1997)

It Contagious

2011-12-04T07:46:00.001+07:00

Everything strikes as soon as I am alone. After the last goodbye hug. Following each steps from the sidewalk till the brown carpet staircase. I despise everything that is not on my hand. That I am not in control of it. That has been wired as my default settings. I despise with all the blood running on my vein as I worship the weakness within me; unconsciously surrender soon enough without carrying out relevant effort to stand up.

It contagious; relying on the result, everything will look terrible without bothered trying to be one. Bad mood against the world.

I feel very human for this past week. As I hardly satisfied with everything. As I always wanted for more. As I barely able to made up my mind. As my mood swings like pendulum. As I kept crossing my own rules. As the guilty pleasure follows.

Like a plastic jar of water accidentally hit by tiny bit of sharp pin, I broke down. It suppose to be nothing but I can feel this small hole, allow me to burst quietly, then tear me up. It suppose to be nothing. But I am weak enough to surrender towards my weakness and just fell. Not living the moment as I was told to. The thing about surrender in to a bad mood is, every good things are hidden somewhere unknown; and my mind is not willing enough to simply see and look for it, while sometimes actually good things are right in front of my eyes.

We all are the same. Human. The worst and best living thing in history of universe. Knowing what should not, but not doing anything to get away. I can go on for the next three years listing what human do. Mostly about the unqualified righteousness manner.

I know everything is alright. This just me and tiny scope around my head, transmitting such unwanted vibes. Nothing is wrong, really. I know what should I do, it is just a matter of willingness which I have not yet gathered to move. England is nice. I won't ever blame this country for my stupid mood. It has nothing to do with England. It has something to do with.. never mind.

Hi December! I promise jolly post coming up soon.

Happy Birthday

2011-11-24T13:57:00.001+07:00

19!

This Is Water

2011-11-22T17:33:00.001+07:00

This, might be the best thing you have ever read in 2011.
[or if you prefer to watch it on youtube. Click Part 1 & Part 2]

"There are these two young fish swimming along, and they happen to meet an older fish swimming the other way, who nods at them and says, "Morning, boys, how's the water?" And the two young fish swim on for a bit, and then eventually one of them looks over at the other and goes, "What the hell is water?"

If you're worried that I plan to present myself here as the wise old fish explaining what water is, please don't be. I am not the wise old fish. The immediate point of the fish story is that the most obvious, ubiquitous, important realities are often the ones that are the hardest to see and talk about. Stated as an English sentence, of course, this is just a banal platitude - but the fact is that, in the day-to-day trenches of adult existence, banal platitudes can have life-or-death importance. That may sound like hyperbole, or abstract nonsense. So let's get concrete ...

A huge percentage of the stuff that I tend to be automatically certain of is, it turns out, totally wrong and deluded. Here's one example of the utter wrongness of something I tend to be automatically sure of: everything in my own immediate experience supports my deep belief that I am the absolute centre of the universe, the realest, most vivid and important person in existence. We rarely talk about this sort of natural, basic self-centredness, because it's so socially repulsive, but it's pretty much the same for all of us, deep down. It is our default setting, hard-wired into our boards at birth.

Think about it: there is no experience you've had that you were not at the absolute centre of. The world as you experience it is right there in front of you, or behind you, to the left or right of you, on your TV, or your monitor, or whatever. Other people's thoughts and feelings have to be communicated to you somehow, but your own are so immediate, urgent, real - you get the idea. But please don't worry that I'm getting ready to preach to you about compassion or other-directedness or the so-called "virtues". This is not a matter of virtue - it's a matter of my choosing to do the work of somehow altering or getting free of my natural, hard-wired default setting, which is to be deeply and literally self-centred, and to see and interpret everything through this lens of self.

By way of example, let's say it's an average day, and you get up in the morning, go to your challenging job, and you work hard for nine or ten hours, and at the end of the day you're tired, and you're stressed out, and all you want is to go home and have a good supper and maybe unwind for a couple of hours and then hit the rack early because you have to get up the next day and do it all again. But then you remember there's no food at home - you haven't had time to shop this week, because of your challenging job - and so now, after work, you have to get in your car and drive to the supermarket. It's the end of the workday, and the traffic's very bad, so getting to the store takes way longer than it should, and when you finally get there the supermarket is very crowded, because of course it's the time of day when all the other people with jobs also try to squeeze in some grocery shopping, and the store's hideously, fluorescently lit, and infused with soul-killing Muzak or corporate pop, and it's pretty much the last place you want to be, but you can't just get in and quickly out: you have to wander all over the huge, overlit store's crowded aisles to find the stuff you want, and you have to manoeuvre your junky cart through all these other tired, hurried people with carts, and of course there are also the glacially slow old people and the spacey people and the kids who all block the aisle and you have to grit your teeth and try to be polite as you ask them to let you by, and eventually, finally, you get all your supper supplies, except now it turns out there aren't enough checkout lanes open even though it's the end-of-the-day rush, so the checkout line is incredibly long, which is stupid and infuriating, but you can't take your fury out on the frantic lady working the register.

Anyway, you finally get to the checkout line's front, and pay for your food, and wait to get your cheque or card authenticated by a machine, and then get told to "Have a nice day" in a voice that is the absolute voice of death, and then you have to take your creepy flimsy plastic bags of groceries in your cart through the crowded, bumpy, littery parking lot, and try to load the bags in your car in such a way that everything doesn't fall out of the bags and roll around in the trunk on the way home, and then you have to drive all the way home through slow, heavy, SUV-intensive rush-hour traffic, etc, etc.

The point is that petty, frustrating crap like this is exactly where the work of choosing comes in. Because the traffic jams and crowded aisles and long checkout lines give me time to think, and if I don't make a conscious decision about how to think and what to pay attention to, I'm going to be pissed and miserable every time I have to food-shop, because my natural default setting is the certainty that situations like this are really all about me, about my hungriness and my fatigue and my desire to just get home, and it's going to seem, for all the world, like everybody else is just in my way, and who are all these people in my way? And look at how repulsive most of them are and how stupid and cow-like and dead-eyed and nonhuman they seem here in the checkout line, or at how annoying and rude it is that people are talking loudly on cell phones in the middle of the line, and look at how deeply unfair this is: I've worked really hard all day and I'm starved and tired and I can't even get home to eat and unwind because of all these stupid goddamn people.

Or if I'm in a more socially conscious form of my default setting, I can spend time in the end-of-the-day traffic jam being angry and disgusted at all the huge, stupid, lane-blocking SUVs and Hummers and V12 pickup trucks burning their wasteful, selfish, 40-gallon tanks of gas, and I can dwell on the fact that the patriotic or religious bumper stickers always seem to be on the biggest, most disgustingly selfish vehicles driven by the ugliest, most inconsiderate and aggressive drivers, who are usually talking on cell phones as they cut people off in order to get just 20 stupid feet ahead in a traffic jam, and I can think about how our children's children will despise us for wasting all the future's fuel and probably screwing up the climate, and how spoiled and stupid and disgusting we all are, and how it all just sucks ...

If I choose to think this way, fine, lots of us do - except that thinking this way tends to be so easy and automatic it doesn't have to be a choice. Thinking this way is my natural default setting. It's the automatic, unconscious way that I experience the boring, frustrating, crowded parts of adult life when I'm operating on the automatic, unconscious belief that I am the centre of the world and that my immediate needs and feelings are what should determine the world's priorities. The thing is that there are obviously different ways to think about these kinds of situations. In this traffic, all these vehicles stuck and idling in my way: it's not impossible that some of these people in SUVs have been in horrible car accidents in the past and now find driving so traumatic that their therapist has all but ordered them to get a huge, heavy SUV so they can feel safe enough to drive; or that the Hummer that just cut me off is maybe being driven by a father whose little child is hurt or sick in the seat next to him, and he's trying to rush to the hospital, and he's in a much bigger, more legitimate hurry than I am - it is actually I who am in his way.

Again, please don't think that I'm giving you moral advice, or that I'm saying you're "supposed to" think this way, or that anyone expects you to just automatically do it, because it's hard, it takes will and mental effort, and if you're like me, some days you won't be able to do it, or you just flat-out won't want to. But most days, if you're aware enough to give yourself a choice, you can choose to look differently at this fat, dead-eyed, over-made-up lady who just screamed at her little child in the checkout line - maybe she's not usually like this; maybe she's been up three straight nights holding the hand of her husband who's dying of bone cancer, or maybe this very lady is the low-wage clerk at the Motor Vehicles Dept who just yesterday helped your spouse resolve a nightmarish red-tape problem through some small act of bureaucratic kindness. Of course, none of this is likely, but it's also not impossible - it just depends on what you want to consider. If you're automatically sure that you know what reality is and who and what is really important - if you want to operate on your default setting - then you, like me, will not consider possibilities that aren't pointless and annoying. But if you've really learned how to think, how to pay attention, then you will know you have other options. It will be within your power to experience a crowded, loud, slow, consumer-hell-type situation as not only meaningful but sacred, on fire with the same force that lit the stars - compassion, love, the sub-surface unity of all things. Not that that mystical stuff's necessarily true: the only thing that's capital-T True is that you get to decide how you're going to try to see it. You get to consciously decide what has meaning and what doesn't. You get to decide what to worship.

Because here's something else that's true. In the day-to-day trenches of adult life, there is no such thing as atheism. There is no such thing as not worshipping. Everybody worships. The only choice we get is what to worship. And an outstanding reason for choosing some sort of god or spiritual-type thing to worship - be it JC or Allah, be it Yahweh or the Wiccan mother-goddess or the Four Noble Truths or some infrangible set of ethical principles - is that pretty much anything else you worship will eat you alive. If you worship money and things - if they are where you tap real meaning in life - then you will never have enough. Never feel you have enough. It's the truth. Worship your own body and beauty and sexual allure and you will always feel ugly, and when time and age start showing, you will die a million deaths before they finally plant you. On one level, we all know this stuff already - it's been codified as myths, proverbs, clichés, bromides, epigrams, parables: the skeleton of every great story. The trick is keeping the truth up front in daily consciousness. Worship power - you will feel weak and afraid, and you will need ever more power over others to keep the fear at bay. Worship your intellect, being seen as smart - you will end up feeling stupid, a fraud, always on the verge of being found out.

The insidious thing about these forms of worship is not that they're evil or sinful; it is that they are unconscious. They are default settings. They're the kind of worship you just gradually slip into, day after day, getting more and more selective about what you see and how you measure value without ever being fully aware that that's what you're doing. And the world will not discourage you from operating on your default settings, because the world of men and money and power hums along quite nicely on the fuel of fear and contempt and frustration and craving and the worship of self. Our own present culture has harnessed these forces in ways that have yielded extraordinary wealth and comfort and personal freedom. The freedom to be lords of our own tiny skull-sized kingdoms, alone at the centre of all creation. This kind of freedom has much to recommend it. But there are all different kinds of freedom, and the kind that is most precious you will not hear much talked about in the great outside world of winning and achieving and displaying. The really important kind of freedom involves attention, and awareness, and discipline, and effort, and being able truly to care about other people and to sacrifice for them, over and over, in myriad petty little unsexy ways, every day. That is real freedom. The alternative is unconsciousness, the default setting, the "rat race" - the constant gnawing sense of having had and lost some infinite thing.

I know that this stuff probably doesn't sound fun and breezy or grandly inspirational. What it is, so far as I can see, is the truth with a whole lot of rhetorical bullshit pared away. Obviously, you can think of it whatever you wish. But please don't dismiss it as some finger-wagging Dr Laura sermon. None of this is about morality, or religion, or dogma, or big fancy questions of life after death. The capital-T Truth is about life before death. It is about making it to 30, or maybe 50, without wanting to shoot yourself in the head. It is about simple awareness - awareness of what is so real and essential, so hidden in plain sight all around us, that we have to keep reminding ourselves, over and over: "This is water, this is water.""

· Adapted from the commencement speech David Foster Wallace (2005) gave to a graduating class at Kenyon College, Ohio

Where The Line Should Be Drawn?

2011-11-11T04:30:00.001+07:00

In order to seek a breathe of fresh air, I went here. Not exactly knowing what to do or what to say in one non-comprehensive post. Beside me, the study lamp was on, lighting my A4 size narrow-ruled paper which I had been working on for these past couple hours along with the background of ALL TIME LOW'S Straight To DVD tour video, cheering me not to give up in its own way. I might going to come back within a while to finish up half on going essay. Running away here as a brief affair solely to satisfy my human mind. I might able to go out from my room or at least just lying on my bed staring at the bed lamp or something. But to be honest, I have done that these past two days. Thoughts of mine were starting to reach the highest capacity this head may bear. However on the other hand, I was certain this was the closest yet best remedy to skip world for an hour or so. In brief seconds, I could hear my head telling me, this is what I'm going to do for the rest of my life. I am just going to write. Here and there. About anything, everything possible. Although I am not going to say writing this bloody essay is easy! But let's just say that's the art of writing. In the future if I am going to look over my dusty post which sinks with time, I will remember this stupid night between stupid task, stupid 850 words, stupid thoughts, stupid songs, sweet room, sweet town 16 hours away from home, I wrote this. At least if I ever doubt what I want to do some time in the future, I knew at this point I was certain with what I want. And who knows, this might help me. So I'm going to write about anything. Including the best thing about morning is the cereal with fresh milk. The best thing about lunch is thirty minutes talk outside class. The best thing about dinner is I always do not care about the meal as long I am able to eat something. And now, internet is being a douche. They went on and off like the hazard light. Last but not least, today is my grandpa's birthday. Saying now, being away from home has increased the level of appreciation within me. I noticed things more, you see. I like the way he worried about me. I love him and the whole big family! Went on skype earlier today. Had a flash of homesick. Happy birthday, Grandpa!

My Hands Were Full On A Second To Waste

2011-11-07T09:08:00.002+07:00

I remembered weeks ago, in my small bedroom back in Jakarta, I wrote my heart out. Knowing one thing only; I had to write this down because my heart could not handle, not even another two minutes, enormous feeling towards one normal human being. Today, as I wrote this post, I know, that post would not be on the first page anymore. I shoved it, politely and unintentionally, somewhere else. That easy.

Unlike when I wrote the secret's out, I was no longer in my apartment -- I sat here alone, sixteen hours flight away from home. Busy building whatever its worth out of what I have now and without knowing anything certain about past, distance and all the other things in between. Perhaps just busy getting wasted.

Life in overall, is too complex. Everything is complex when you live hand in hand with hundred thousands different open minds. The only thing that isn't, is now. I know exactly I am happy with where I am, who I'm with, what I wear, what I drink, what I did last weekend and where I sleep. And even though some of the aspects lies within the complexity, I will always believe, everything will become a part of now, sometime in the future, where I just know I am one hundred percent certain.

It's Up to Hope

2011-10-28T07:59:00.000+07:00

The relationship between me and this very land is real, I believe. Definition of real itself lies between the contrary of feeling alive along with the joy and headaches. Pleasures been pouring upon my head, hovering around my senses, pulling me into places where the ground is partly genuine. Dancing in the rain, they say. Been walking around, handing over the loneliness to the streets. Wishing it would be easier just to ignore; the stupid feeling, cold weather and that blinking red light aggressively asking for attention. A bit of swearing flutters from the innocent lips, tearing apart the seal, gradually in frequent motion. Freedom of expression, they say. Simply live under the sky instead of laws. That is to say, the majority of air is no longer oxygen, but instead, it's freedom. Freedom with boundaries slowly growing strong between my nerves. Leads to judgement over judgement, impersonating the fragile footsteps on the sand. The existence lasts within one gentle sway from the wind. Independent, shall it be. Giving justice to the word alone, without sounding poetically pity. It is about giving a chance, and wait. The soft pillow silently listens to every restless thoughts as my head lies casually, desperately begging for a break through the long eventful night. Nothing is going to change. No one is going to change. Sun is just a prologue to greet the rest of my duty. And Crabbies is just a ginger beer.

Lesson To Learn

2011-10-21T01:33:00.000+07:00

The diversity of people's personality is more or less has the same idea as counting hair. It is nearly impossible to elaborate since it takes ages and patience because hair is pretty much a complicated uncountable thing. To lessen the scoop, there are people who easy to fall in love and easily attached and quickly to forget, and others may just find it hard to fall in love and even harder to letting go or a little combination of both. Since this is not an academic essay, I am allowed to put my opinion here, loud and clear without hiding it behind a general thoughts. This essay about moving on. This is dedicated to all of those who has solid rock heart out there. Thought I might give it a go.

If I have to put myself in the previous context, I might tend to be the one who is not easily attached and find very very very hard to move on. Because I always thought, I fell in love with the perfect guy through his imperfection. He is perfect. I should not let him go; no matter how unreachable he is or no matter how deep he fell in love with another girl. Although, I can hear whisper that I might able to move on somehow, when its time, without knowing tiny bit of a clue. (Yes, because love happens eventually. Whatever.) In the mean time, my heart is possessed by this one guy with no certainty of something in return or blimey, just a simple result. And not giving any chance to let someone else to get in.

In a way, it does not sound right. All those free-spirit goers might want to slap my face immediately. But in the same time, I am (or was) looking to find a way how, unconsciously. And hereby, I found one, among hundreds other way to move on is just simply move. Do not stay wherever you are now. With the surroundings that remind you to this very subject. Move. Anywhere. Find new things. Meet new people. Know the strangers more. We all are begin as a stranger, remember? Change them in to friends, whoever you find comfortable with. Do not stay. I repeat, do not stay. Mooooooooooooooooooove! This time of year is perfect to find new things because school year just barely starts. Smell that? It's the fair chance of opportunities to find something new, everyone!

You would know this without me telling you: at the end, it does not matter you are willing to or not, life always goes on with or without the person you wanted to be with in the current time. I am not saying I have moved on. I just feel a lot better than before -- regardless the definition of before looked like. However in conclusion, do not even hope to move on if you still in the same surrounding, with faces and places that always remind you. Start fresh. Go and explore! You have no idea how much world can offer! All we need to do is begin with a small step and a simple will!

xxxx

All The Way Down South

2011-10-18T03:07:00.002+07:00

I'm in England, at last! Going to be here for the next 10 months for Foundation course, then followed by university another 3 years. Am in my third week, this week. The first week was not good. Being here, is part of my dream I shall say. And when it gets really real, it feels weird. Mostly because I have to get through the adjustment to the daily environment, and the culture!

Screw adjustment I know, but it happens!

Bournemouth is beautiful. Decent parks, awesome piers, and most of all, I fancy the beach a lot! There are two majorities of age in this town. Elder people and university students. A bit of a contrast, but fair play to them. The culture is definitely different compare to Jakarta. Shouting out loud by the streets is somehow familiar during weekends. I tell you why later, but in terms of public transport, way better than TransJakarta, I'm sorry but it's true.

I go to school with bus everyday. Which unlikely happens if I am in Jakarta. I walk around town centre on foot, obviously, where mostly everything is here. And I live 3 minutes away from the town centre. But, there is a big but, the shops closed at 6. Bummer!

Then weekends, it's all about pub and clubs (this explain the shouting issues). It doesn't have to be weekend though, there are few weekdays, pubs and clubs offering many offers, shall I say in a proper context! :) There is no mall! ..pretty much. So, the only cool place to run to during weekend, is definitely the pub with friends!

Going on to the further points. It's about the college. The college; teachers, classmates, and classes are okay! I always paying attention during the class. Only it is quite hard to push myself opening books after school! Like always anyway. Still on the way to process myself to be more self-dicipline!

The weather is like guys these days, pretty much unpredictable. Here in Bournemouth, we can have three different season in one day. Bright and sunny in the morning, cloudy by the afternoon, and freezing cold during the evening. And the next day? We will see.

Personally, I would say, the reason I enjoyed whatever it is in Bournemouth definitely because the people I am spending time with. The people I am with during every small excursion around Bournemouth. Little by little, I understand this place and starting to grow on me.

It also the reason I made through the storm as in homesick. It took me a while to get to the point where I finally having a grip to hold on. Because I never thought what I had, was not certain. It was definitely not portable. I was relying on my surrounding a little bit too much, perhaps.

Grip, is like trust, I believe. More likely need to be earned by giving out efforts. Building the construction, finding out the right materials. It was very awful to feel alone and as a stranger in the same time. But now, I have grown genuine fond on some of the most interesting people I have ever known in my life. And they are from different part of the world! German, Japan, China, Nigeria, Ukraine, Brazil, Turkey and also last but not least, Indonesia! I am just simply glad knowing them.

I will update more with pictures of my friends and the story as well, soon!

xxxx

Hxxxxxxx

2011-10-07T03:52:00.000+07:00

Homesick; an awful feeling that I thought would never exist. Homesick happens to everybody who leaves their hometown regardless the reason. Homesick is currently cureless. Not even The Cure can heal it. There is one medicine that able to ease the pain gradually. It's called time. Where and how to get it? through wait. Wait is more like British arrogance -- plainly annoying. Some people can't handle waiting. But eventually everyone has to. Because once you get through of waiting, pleasures are right in front of you.

"Life continually evolves. We're always moving, moving into new experiences, new possibilities. This constant change unsettles the personality, which finds security in stability. But with life always in flux, that security is an illusion. We experience pain by trying to hold on to things that are not solid.

Life becomes joyful when we can open to the constant flow and ride freely with it. This requires us to let go of the need to control. We need to learn to trust.

-- John Robson"

Band Edition: Meet Me By Sunrise

2011-09-19T23:45:00.000+07:00

It has been quite cloudy throughout Jakarta's music scene lately, the usual weekend gig that I used to attend had lost its existence between the radar. But among the minor crowds, this band managed to popped out to the public eye-sight. And mine's especially -- I cannot help to write about them. Speaking of the devil, it's Meet Me By Sunrise. First of many, I personally have to give big kudos for whoever came up with the name. Meet Me By Sunrise. It's not too cliche, not too band name-ish, not too much; it's simple, precise and it's there. As soon you read or hear the name, there's a chime of hope, you know this going to be good. And yes, they are worth to listen.

This band consist of four young boys, simultaneously giving such a fresh soul into their music. Lan Alexander on vocal/guitar, has this Gaskarth-like kind of voice, where you just know he owns the right to sing. He has the voice that qualified to be ears' best friend. On guitar/synths/keys/vocal/pretty-much-everything-here-there-a-bit, there's the multi-talented Dion Andrew; his skill is surely undoubted when his fingers know what to do to create such a great outcome of rhythm, based on my judgement on MMBS TV -- a youtube video where they record their routines on camera. The third member on bass/vocal, is Christophe Renato, slapping the thick bass strings daringly, adding the blast deep volume hand in hand with the guitar; hey, song wouldn't sound complete without bass -- as a fellow bassist speaking. Last but not least, Diandra Indrabayu on drums, let alone the loud beat, the drums sure has the good deal of role on giving more air to the songs as it breathe and sounded more alive.

Little more details regarding their songs, for all All Time Low/Simple Plan/The Downtown Fiction die hard fans out there, I can assure you, you are going to love Meet Me By Sunrise. Sound of power pop with touch of rock & semi-acoustic is their thing. For the lyrics, it is very easy to relate, young love, disappointing heartbreak; ear-catching phrases, definitely not crappy ass quality. My personal favorite song would Frankly My Dear, I Don't Give A Damn. But as I listen to their tracks these past hours, I have got to say it is kind of hard to decide, they are all good! Jakarta (Never Looked So Good) makes me want to go out on late-drive around town and watch the skyline. And man, "I hope you'd die in a car crash baby" phrase from Hanging On A Wake Up Call just would not get out of my head. Only Stars sounded less appealing than the others, maybe because the others are pretty much contains more content than this one.

Fair to say, go and take a look for yourself, their live performance. And what are the odds, they are about to release their EP in three weeks! October 15th. Too bad I can't make it as I'm leaving this town within a week.. Anyway, details on their facebook or follow their official band twitter, make sure you are not going to miss it! And maybe, if you would like to booked them on events, please do not hesitate to contact them through their facebook, they seemed nice! Better yet, interested to signed them? They would be a phone call away. All and all, so glad to have them as local band x

You Say Good Morning When It's Midnight

2011-09-14T01:43:00.000+07:00

I was trying to figure out why the hell I stayed up most of the night; I thought I was waiting, but I was not. I guess I was trying to find comfort in repetition through song. Maybe I was trying to find something. Answers, perhaps. Somewhere. Or maybe I was trying to make a history. Conquering the time difference. Or, I just wanted be listened. This, whispers few minutes to midnight.

11: 56 P.M

Common knowledge taught me, based in some stories, you were the worst version of yourself during midnight (without additional favor from liquors). Worst as in impulsively free. As in, honest. Where secrets and truths may slip here and there. Which bring me in certain awareness, less chance of midnight declaring lies. Am I the only one who noticed how fine midnight is?

Maybe it was because the sun, keeping our muscle too tense and mind too sane through its bright lights. Too sane to qualify the worst when we were being honest. As the level of tolerance towards the reality had decrease to the lowest point, raised the voice "I do not give a shit." out loud.

Maybe our body has running out of liquid to neutralize the raging hormones. Maybe our head has reached the maximum capacity to bare with memories. But between regrets, guilts and blame, lies the innocent part of feeling relief. Probably during midnight only, a person can express decent outcome with enough guts that hardly achieve when the sky is blue.

~~I hope I won't regret this post in the morning.~~

12:36 A.M

Oh, wait. Now I know what I was doing this whole time. I think I was hoping to see a respond. I think my head had secretly told my body to stay awake, messing with the proper bedtime, to assume I was awake for nothing. When nothing is not particularly nothing -- there's a little bit of everything hidden behind it. I think it was common to wait for something after you spill half of your guts in paragraphs.

P.S: so, if you read this, please let me know.

1:08 A.M

Yeah. That's it. Good night.

1:18 A.M

1:41 A.M

The Secret's Out

2011-09-07T20:09:00.013+07:00

I once knew this guy. He was all tall and Indonesian-like. Lousy haircut and expression. The first impression was pretty much a failure for other further impression. He looked stupid. All and all, he was not the type of person who I would have thought of worth writing for. Because judging him in instant would result in to something far from perfect. But as soon I engaged in a conversation with him, his charm gradually taught me, that I was completely wrong. He had the aura to attract people close. He was exactly the definition of perfection in disguise. Since then, he was the main role to keep the story of my life going.

At first, I thought this was nothing more than a winter fling, something that would fade as soon the sun melted the snow. But it seemed like I lived in the North Pole, where snow stayed frozen forever. As I spent more times with him, unintentionally, I got to know him more. I saw his flaws -- oddly enough were just never enough to make me go away; I felt things -– sad, hurt, disappointed, and most of all, I realized he made me happy as my heartbeat went fast within a blink and everything felt right & secure every time he was around. Or maybe just by hearing his voice through phone or even only his name.

I remember how stupid he looked when his fingers pushed back his full frame glasses off the edge of his stupid nose. Then he looked up towards me, lightly with those stupid tiny dark brown eyes and gave me every reason to smile. And then appear his stupid braces along with stupid, annoying yet very charming grin after he made stupid yet very funny jokes. But it is not about his stupid smile, or the stupid jokes, or how gentleman and modest he is, or how annoyingly ignorant he is, or how stupid the way he stared, it is something more than that. It’s just him, being him, all different and stupidly attractive owning my attention.

It has been over two years I referred his name as the subject behind he on every random notes I made. This kind of thing is not something that I ask or plan for. Everything here is just happened without anything in advance. This whole thing is a mystery. Vaguely standing strong yet nothing is certain. Nothing is clear. Nothing is easy. I never fully figured out myself, the entire pieces of whatever I am currently in. I have reached the point where I cannot recall how and why this all began. All I know now that I wanted to be with him in past, present and future tense.

Sooner or later I have to let this one out, or I will spend the rest of my life with what if. Because I do not know what future held, I may have enough and find someone else pretty soon or I am going to stick for another year. So, this is a farewell and appreciation post. He’s leaving tonight. And knowing him, is a blessing. There you have it, I do not need any name to seal away, but you shall know by the details I put up. There’s more than this post can tell. But... Nobody cares.

Take care,

xx.

Sleep It Off, My Dear.

2011-08-30T22:54:00.005+07:00

Tonight is not the first night I had questions. Questions, not doubt. There is a thin line lies in between them. And I would rather call it question. Doubt has the odd sensation of negativity, somehow. You know the sudden heat trembling all over your body then it intensifies around your head like something is wrong; as if it sends signal to your brain to believe everything is just wrong. When it is not. It is not, believe me. Especially during late night. I am almost certain, you should believe anyone else beside yourself during midnight. It is commonly judged as the hour when thoughts are running wild out of sense.

Thus, bad thought(s) is one of the deadly enemy of mine. Most of the time I let it controls me. Running along delightfully as if my head is a play ground. I nearly lost it earlier, or maybe I did for a couple seconds, but I managed to keep everything on the right track. Am trying. It is just part of the mind's play, you see. All classic and pretentiously arrogant, Shakespeare fail impostor. Telling heavy things weighing you down low while they are the one that got it wrong. Because good things are high, not low. You have to reach out for it. And also because God always on watch. And will always be ready with anything if we require something. I know, I know, it's sounds like a cheesy cheese stick with overrated cliche-ness. But really. You should hang on with whatever your faith is. If you do not have one, please, please, go and find one. It is necessary at the time like this. When you are.. vulnerable.

So, if you are currently going through something that happens to have a slight chance to bother your mind, listen to me, everything is alright. Or if you insist it is not, then it will be. It always be. Just sleep it off, and see what's the morning got for you. Maybe something more than a toast bread and coffee for breakfast.

Half Way

2011-08-25T18:44:00.003+07:00

'So when shall I see you again?' I could not withstand the question any longer along with the rush of worry that had been attacking my head from feeling secure since the first second I was aware he'd be leaving this town in three days.

He barely reached the bench from the game, looking tired, sitting next to me. I could not even wait a couple seconds after he finished drinking half the bottle of water. He took a deep breath, followed with an exhale which sounded like sigh. I lean my body forward, putting my best attention towards him as I could read he was about to speak.

'Someday, soon.' he answered briefly.

'Where?' asked me again hiding my agitation under my voice. It would not need a genius to figure out that we both were heading to two different side of the world for quite a long while. The idea of being apart alone, had lost me ounces of sleep.

He paused for a moment as if he was catching his breath again, but his eyes seem wander off under the bright sun. In patience I waited, 'Half way.' he said lightly yet very vivid. His eyes had stopped wandering. His stare was found as our eyes met. That puts me in silence. A moment of toxin-free, set me on quaint ease while I was staggering at the edge of my seat. Without knowing where half way was, I nodded in agreement. I never heard something unknown sounded very certain in my ear. I softly repeat, 'Half way it is.'

They Say It Changes When The Sun Goes Down

2011-08-22T00:40:00.009+07:00

I think I am mad. Mad at the situation. Situation I despise. Mad at the solitude. Solitude that brings too many thoughts around. Mad at everything without someone to blame -- not that I intended to blame anyone; but having the idea of having someone to blame just clarified I am not wrong. Mad at these sleepy eyes. But instead of sleeping, I force myself to do anything but sleep as if I enjoy a bit of competition. Mad at this empty box because I can not get my fingers to write anything due to the over-annoying mind of mine that unable to stay put. Mad at the silence over the phone. Mad at the expectation. Mad because I can not yet cope with facts. Mad at mostly everything which covered the goods. Mad at these days habit that does not make any sense to me. Mad because tomorrow is Monday and I have to wake up early. Mad for being weak and let mad taking control of me. Mad because I can not make me stop saying mad and keeping my head cool. Mad because I am suppose to be cheerful and all that. Mad because I often forget I actually am happy. Mad because honestly, everything is alright, so why bother mourning? And mad because I should have post something jolly and right. This is not wrong though, in my defense, because I can not and won't write anything against what's going through my head the very second I write it down.

I know things are not that bad. Maybe things are not bad at all.
I know, by the end of this post I will feel much better than before when I started it.

One Day

2011-08-14T16:52:00.004+07:00

I like most of the books that I read. I read most of the book. It only takes a recommendation away to get me read a novel. But if I am on the situation where I have no references, the book I would take from the shelf at the book store would be something like One Day by David Nicholls. I can not deny the certain attraction between me and love stories. Any kind love stories. I would like it better if I can relate to the story. But I believe, every published author has the qualification to make the readers feel like they are involved in the story.

One Day is about friendship of a boy and a girl, Emma and Dexter, that just met on their last night in University; graduation party to be exact, then the friendship evolves in twenty years time. Simple. But the thing about book is.. the details. Just like Oprah once said, 'Love is in the details.' The thing that visual frame can not initially explain. I like the way Nicholls explain how each of the main characters speaks inside their mind. Unspoken thoughts carry through pages after pages, then the ending. The story goes better and better as it lead to the last page. Since this book written in a concept where telling what happened on the same date every year, for twenty years, so we can see the changes in their life across ages and phases.

Funny you may say, after a couple of weeks after I bought the book, turns out the movie version of this book is about to come in cinemas near you. Anne Hathaway as Emma, and that bloody hot English actor, Jim Sturgess as Dexter. Stoked to see the visualization of the book!

"The Idea Of Life Without Him Is Unimaginable."

2011-08-11T21:28:00.005+07:00

Two things:

I have changed my blog header to "What I Know About Now" As it refers to the fact that the only thing I am most assured about, is now.This blog will contain everything and anything regarding what is happening currently. With my head, my mood, my surrounding. Because honestly, all we know is only now. Before it evolves into past, and future is still remaining a secret. What I know about now is.. Something related with fast heart beat, butterflies and being... found. Yeah, go figure
I just watched a movie called Something Borrowed; adapted from a book by Emily Griffin. Here is the link for the trailer, go on have a quick look. It cost tears more than it looks, I gotta say. And if I have to pick a lesson out of it, I would say: say it now before it gets complicated and a little too late.

Three Cheers For Ten Years

2011-08-04T21:32:00.006+07:00

I should've write something about Harry Potter. But after three times I have watched the movie, still, I can not seem able to pull everything together. The pieces of truth, I have just witnessed the last Harry Potter movie. The end of Harry Potter story. Everything, is highly emotional. As the Harry Potter and Deathly Hallows Part II launched, I believe everyone deserve to be a little sentimental on July.

What can I say? Harry Potter plotted half of my life. I would not have a proper childhood without Harry Potter. For these past ten years, Harry always been the hero for the land beyond my imagination. The president of my childhood fantasy. If Harry Potter never been written, I would not be who I am now, madly in love with Britain. I know Harry will always live within our memories but it is just simply difficult to accept there will be no Harry Potter coming up on the screen nor paragraphs.

Harry's influence drove me deeply into the hysteria back then. Around summer 2002, I decided to join Harry Potter camp. For several days, I stayed in a big house with massive yard assuming it was "Hogwarts" following every and all the wizardry activities. I got through the sorting hat, Potions, Charm, Herbology, Transfiguration classes and Quidditch without broomstick. On the last day, each house had to perform a short drama; and I was chosen to play Hermione. I know, I know, awkward. But if I had to write an unforgettable moment essay while I was in the elementary school, that was it. For the whole year long.

Since then, Harry Potter always been a part of me. You know how Harry Potter is. There is no necessarily need for further endearment. Each person has their own definition and stories regarding Harry Potter. Thus, Harry Potter will always own a place in everyone's heart, somehow.

In conclusion, thank you God for giving J.K Rowling's such magical mind, thank you British environment for raising such talent and thank you for the fellow directors in film industry for bringing it up alive, visually. Thank you, Daniel, Rupert and Emma, for giving more soul to the characters flawlessly. And last but definitely not least, thank you, J.K Rowling, for everything, in literal meaning. For writing the book. For each sentence building every paragraphs. For coloring my childhood.

So long, Harry!

Part One

2011-08-01T12:14:00.004+07:00

'Damn it, shut up.'

I told them to shut up while nobody was speaking. I addressed it to my thoughts that hardly stay quiet.

I shook my head, 'This isn't happening.'

The whole body was set unease, my memory keep taking me back to the priceless moment I had with him.

His soothing voice was echoing in my ear; the exact intonation he used to call my name was perfectly clear.

On every stare, his eyes were talking to me, put me in full security.

I shook my head harder, wishing the thoughts might disappear.

It did, for two and a half seconds. But it kept coming back, obsessively claimed to stay.

A brief sigh was hummed, followed by a simple yet endearing statement. I said helplessly, 'I think I'm in love.'

So They Say

2011-07-29T03:23:00.010+07:00

So, last night I went to my senior prom. It was just a regular prom. Nothing less or even more. It was not the kind of prom you have seen in movies. Just a prom that happened among the real life of Indonesian culture. The authenticity was genuinely okay. Big flat okay. The food & music were just okay. For those who had their mind set to the Hollywood/Voldemort's point of view, probably they have left the ballroom within the first thirty minutes.

As for me, I stick through the whole thing. The fun, the boredom, the cheesy, and all. It was part of my hobbies to observe various kind of occasions; regardless to the minimum interest towards the event due to many causes, such as too much expectations and non sense insecurities. For most people, prom was the dear closure of high school. They willing to gave everything for the night. High expenses for clothes, jewelry and tickets without rationally noticed it was actually a lot.

In one way or another, it still made sense to me. For those who enjoy having themselves pampered, prom definitely the best event for them to dress up without looking too much. Because everyone also dress up much. Me, myself not a big fan for anything complicated. But I gamble on behalf of my rough chances calculation, through the uneasy shopping spree for the whole set of this prom wardrobe, I might get a memory of a lifetime. And I did.

If the prom was okay, the after prom did nearly most the work to get me saying, "The best prom ever!" To be honest, there was nothing special. Not a candle light dinner with roses or high-end party at the famous club. I was just hanging around with the guys. Staying inside the car on the parking lot of the most hype 24-hour mini market in town, blabbering about everything, laughing, singing silly songs off pitch (not to mention Justin Bieber or Akon or Taio Cruz's)

You know, that was the best thing about being in like/love/you name it, with your favorite ones; not restrictedly with your crush only, but with your whole best friends. Simple things could do great things. Like made your night wrapped in endless smile. There, my subjective judgement lies to the part where I believe, what makes everything ten times better is the crowd that you spend your time with. Every single person that makes you feel.. belong.

So, yes. I just had the best prom (and after prom) ever. So they say. xx

Few pics I managed to capture during the night with my iTouch.

Shine A Light on Tom.

2011-07-16T21:11:00.005+07:00

Here is the appreciation post for Tom McFly that about to turn 26 in several more hours.

He is Tom Michael Fletcher. Born in England, July 17th 1985. Often called as the frontman of a British pop band sensation, McFly. Both Star Wars and Disney freak. His band has been my favorite since 2004. And they are just awesome enough to keep me stick around through every changes along the way. It is not a secret for anyone, he writes most of the songs in McFly which straight up to the number one chart in different part of the world. Nobody should every doubt his talent about song writing, and just being him handling over the overwhelming attention.

I have met him once, he has pretty crystal brown eyes. Up with his baggy sleeveless shirt and exhausted face being in a foreign country, he'd still be happy dealing with aesthetic fans waiting in the lobby. Within no longer than three minutes conversation and a photo, I just knew, he is a one hell of a gentleman (not to mention, a keeper).

I like him.

He meant pretty much every bullshits and cliche love songs he had ever made. I'd willing to spend hours reading his tweets just looking how things through his eyes. I'd willing to spend hundreds of rupiah to watch his band live. I'd willing to stand till my feet sore just to watch his band on stage. The four of them has this such magical vibe leaving me in a long awe. I have got to say, McFly is one of the best band in this entire universe. This is the kind of statement that you just know. Without specifically knowing how or why.

Therefore, Happy Birthday dearest Fletcher. Stay awesome, and in by true definition of awesome. Keep making history & inspire us through songs. Stay sweet. Stay golden. I truly hope I would be seeing you more often and very soon. Just in case if Dougie forget to say thank you to you for showing him how to open a bank account, hereby, I would say a massive deep thank you. Also thank you, for making McFly real. Thank you, for being Tom :)

Tom, Tom, Tom. One thing that you should know, he is the kind of guy who will never ever left you in the dark.

"Go Run, Run. I'm Gonna Stay, Watch You Disappear."

2011-07-15T01:36:00.004+07:00

Sudden noise is terrifying. As harmless as possible, surprised the heart beat in the middle of the safe silence. Thoughts are flying without a pair of wings, leaving this very mind alone, wandering relentlessly. Solely drowned between no answers; questions are unforcedly hanging by a feeble thread. All woozy and stubborn, patience slowly wearing thin -- and so does the vague bliss last from last weekend liberty. Actions, no matter how tiny and plain it formed, are highly required as much as needed in the same second.

Jealousy decided to join the party for no one with no invitation, shutting ears from three minutes painless medicine that used to hummed in various range of key notes, in a very hard trial to stay busy with nothing is four steps closer to a desperation. Gesture of touch goes sore by the throat, painted in drought. If this going in constant motion, the possibilities of switching basic point of view are high, higher than pine trees which deserve to put in active warning.

Mistakenly typed something that nudge the very heart and mind awkward enough to fool few seconds of promising scents. The second attempt fortunately fulfilled the previous purpose; saying, "I am too far from usual. I think I lost the direction of time; both to sleep and eat in random hour. Thus, only follow the mood swing which sometimes innocently right or the other way around." Applying the far away neighborhood time zone on daily agenda, become unavoidable. Again, the page still remains the same page. The first page where everyone, everyone with no exception, still in confused. Running out of supply for fresh, neat ideas. As one word unwillingly lost its meaning.

But at the end, eventually, I am very much aware & thrilled, everyone is home.

Hiccups

2011-07-08T22:28:00.002+07:00

You know what sucks? A comparison. As long you don't have a comparison you'd be at the top of everything. If my day were liquor, it must have contained 98% of boredom alcohol and that made me completely wasted (only sober enough to update a post). Ninety eight percent amount of dullness covered most of my hours during the day. Sometimes overwhelming joy in one day, sets the bar too high for any day to compete.

Entertainment by any form roughly had lost its appeal towards me. Bringing the result of failure in definition of entertainment itself. Not to mention part of anybody or anything's fault. If anyone's got anything to blame, that would be me. Acting complicatedly to accept simple things. In the same time, I felt slightly more fragile than usual at the moment of potential interruption. Therefore changed the order into fully comprehend of interruption alone.

It all ends to why; the reason for everything. Why. I shall say because I had the comparison between today and other days that I have spent as the standard of my favorite day. Mostly all the factors that consist as a whole uber cool day were absent for the entire day. You know, activities during holiday. Friends. Long drive. Being out late. Talks. Loud stereo. Laughs. Meals. Cigars. Sharing thoughts. Simple stuff. Everything just lightly sensed very plain and dull like an egg without salt.

Although, there is an obvious difference on the days that I honestly claims my heart in the solitude by staying at home and do nothing. There, a willingness and match mood to stay passive. But, not for today. My heart was screaming for more colors. Totally on the opposite side of preparing to bed at 7 and be in bed by 8. Thaat, definitely not me. And other internal matters are also not supporting the wellness of a good day. But no matter how, all is well. It will be if it's not. Again, when you are having a comparison against something, the chances of getting disappointed is approximately high as well as being grateful. At least on this case. Thus, still looking forward for the unexpected invitation that might blossom my heart! xx

"Never Better."

2011-07-06T17:28:00.005+07:00

Happy fourth of July, everyone. I may have been two days late but I believe the leftover of the fireworks are still igniting the whole city; though I don't live in the States. And in order to honor the month, I shall say hello to July. It was my pleasure to had a pleasant way to enter this month. Having myself content with martabak till it monopolized my entire tummy, perhaps. For whoever missed the existence of martabak, please visit Indonesia. Immediately run to Jl. Fatmawati, and you will find a street vendor right across D'Best dept. store. Martabak is a food. A bloody good food. Maybe the third best god's invention ever. Click this if you are interested.

Moving on, roughly a year ago, my posts were all about the irony of being left out. At that moment I remember those irony was clouding up my senses and made me forget about these kind of days. The joy when having them, slowly coming back home. Somehow it only felt like, we were two different body in different agenda, circling around our own busy schedule and just unable to meet. If only I could ease my irrelevant worries by keeping in mind there will be a return in the future a year, I'd be much more calm to let them have some fun away from the same time zone as mine long ago.

I have been catching up with few of them. And I should say, presence is priceless. No matter how magical the technology nowadays, talking directly with eye contact was thousand times better than talking through any kind of social media. Well, it's all good now. Not to mention, these past weeks I have met a new friend. So good to have new cool dude adding the noise to the merrier crowd of awesome friends on my list. Quoted by Hermione Granger in the first Harry Potter movie, I am "Never better."

This Very One Place

2011-06-29T22:45:00.008+07:00

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.

He Who Does Not Gives A Shit

2011-06-18T21:08:00.003+07:00

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!

Band Edition: General Fiasco

2011-06-17T14:06:00.004+07:00

I found them through youtube from burberry acoustic session, here & my ears just knew they had a decent music.

They are General Fiasco is originally from the very United Kingdom, to be specific the Northern Ireland. What I like about this band surely, they are one of the band that able to pull the sound of something British in their songs. Three young lads kicking up the amplifier with a gentle rock, not too loud yet still classified as rock. Not to mention, they also nailed the acoustic version of their songs, did not lose the basic identity of General Fiasco.

There was a bit of change in formation when their former drummer decided to moved to the States. Stephen from the rhythm guitar assigned to take roll on the drum and recently they just added new additional guitarist, Stuart. And guess what? they still sounded rad. Owen's high note voice, the vocalist, set the particular signature sign of the band so nobody would miss interpret GF with another band.

Their debut album, buildings, consist of 15 tracks includes 4 acoustic version. Ever So Shy chosen as the hit single from the album and I could not agree more. Their song titles and lyrics are simple, easy to relate with young age lifestyle nowadays. Totally worth to notice. Here's their Myspace & official video of Ever So Shy xx

Band Edition: The Scene Aesthetic

2011-06-16T22:38:00.004+07:00

They are The Scene Aesthetic consist of two young americans, Andrew De Torres and Eric Bowley. Aside from their good looking appearance, you must have already falling for them within the minute their songs caught your ears, just like I did. Their type of music is not hard to digest, semi-acoustic set only with guitars, a little touch of electro-keyboard & light drum here and there, with two unique voices collaborate in one harmony of easy listening tunes.

Some says lyrics are the heart beat in a song; The Scene Aesthetic provide such enticing lyrics no-junk-kind-of-shit. The combination between two very different types of voice, husky and tenor/alto-ish, voice aimed the perfect result. The content inside most of their songs is no other than love. Some love songs if presented in the wrong way, the song may sounded bullshit, but TSA have managed to delivered it sincerely. No bullshit.

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: click this for great tunes TSA

if you'd like to follow their official band twitter: here it goes TSA

And their acoustic performance in youtube: press this immediately! TSA

Simpler Than Arts

2011-06-13T22:26:00.008+07:00

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."

Let's Get Together.

2011-06-09T20:41:00.005+07:00

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.

We Own The Night

2011-06-04T23:50:00.004+07:00

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.

8

2011-05-26T17:35:00.002+07:00

Hi, blog. Let me figure out what to tell... I have officially graduated from high school since the graduation was held three days ago. I pulled the traditional dress from Indonesia quite well, and the high heels that slowly shutting my ability to walk properly, as well. Everyone was suit up and up for their best appearance for the ceremony, the chandelier by the ceiling shines the whole room in a warm vibe. The speeches, photographs and all the guests; such a fine day to remember. Though there was a moment of boredom alert creeping in while waiting my name to be called on the stage, thank you dearest iPod, I watched That's The Truth video clip & Transylvania acoustic from McFly for several rounds - an instant boredom killer.

My mind wander off for a little while during the event. Due to the serene scenes of the fine-art movies, I would like to have someone, beside my lovely parents, to be present between the crowds. I just wish. It really was impossible on the current time. I believe it passed the necessity for bringing up the name. God and everyone knows who I refers to.

Rule number one: be slightly mysterious. *wink

As the graduation ends, I brought home a book full of faces whom I spent the whole three years with inside thy school. Familiar faces I'd reckon stay for the rest of my life, although few of them I only knew by names. There was one favorite part for me where the international dudes and duddettes I literally spend the days throughout the years, were up. They also put photos from various trips we have been along the way. Some of my favorites, 5-days-city-tour in Singapore. Nothing ever beats the clarity of the moment that caught by the camera. I love them. All. Without any exception. The curriculum that I took was cost above the average school tuition. But lord, I never regret it. Precious times!

might look back and laugh at all this.

D

2011-05-25T21:50:00.000+07:00

A Lesson In Romantics

2011-05-18T23:35:00.004+07:00

I reminisce back to the time when my fingertips could reached out those beautiful figures for a minute nearly a month ago. It felt rather weird, honestly. Weird because I hardly believe that I have met them in person. Weird because I was there. Weird because that moment was almost flawless. Weird because I was very happy. Weird because I had that moment. Weird because I still could feel goosebumps every time I saw the picture. It was just weird.

Tons of weirdness piling up to the fact that my life goes on. I thought I would never wanted to change my display picture but truth to be told, I can see myself finally letting go the recent picture to the old page. And by time, the post I wrote last April is soon to be gone from the first page. That simple.

Speaking of time, I finished my high school everyone. Graduation in a week. And my scores were not pretty bad. Not too excellent though, but more than enough to get me graduated. And as much as I know I am going to miss the hype being a high school student, I am entirely relief. Yes, I know there are still a lot more to come, but you should see yourself as a free human being, finally able to demand everything on your own after going through such a bad weather. At least, that is how I am seeing things in the current time. If I changed my mind in further days, that shall be later's business.

Smolder

2011-05-15T15:40:00.004+07:00

Spoiling my solitude for staying inside the house for weeks had successfully fading my memory of outside world normality. With the less contact with people, the level of my tolerance towards other human being was slightly low.

These past four days I have been accompanied by one of my favorite pleasure of all time. I found my brand new source of inspiration. I hardly able to describe about it though. Can't say it's perfect yet but it nearly reached there. I love it. Been a while my sight living in some kind of empty state of such scenes, which making me sobbing like a baby, and I basically glad to find it.

Uh, anyway, speaking of inspiration, I have finished my short novel, called Ingenue. Been working on it for quite a while. Had the thought of the main story in October 2009. Several changes of plot during the process, and going on and off writing it till fully wrapped early this month.

Story of a girl, involved with someone from her past and someone from the current time in the same time.

That sort of story.

Have not decided yet what am I going to do with the short novel, but seemingly my hands already got itchy to write another piece of literature-fiction.

Oh, and I'm starting to like tumblr. I think we're going to be best friends.

It's Not Always Easy, But I'm Here Forever.

2011-05-08T03:51:00.005+07:00

This is about everything that inspire you, your soul and your life.

When you listen, there is this tear drop of joy screaming at the edge of your eyelids.

It keeps running down, melted on your soft cheek

as it slides without pain and nothing else but love, bits of affection.

When it touches your lips, the indefinite feeling rushing through your veins giving you no time to speak nor arrange words to make it clear.

Everything is shut under one sensible condition; consist of everything and anything you wished for.

Does not have the limit of any space of time.

Forever, these eyes are going to tell the truth.

Swear up to mostly all figure, both living or dead on the entire galaxy, will stay and defend.

And nonetheless, for the heart that never lies.

#maythe4thbewithyou

2011-05-04T21:01:00.003+07:00

I'd like to say thank you to whoever invented mp3boo.com due to the common exception towards Indonesia for the isolated distribution of import CD's which some also included recommended artists that I would likely to hear, I was able to download many albums through it.
I kind of feel bad not purchasing the actual CD but there were some part of me that believe it was not about buying the real album, musician basically wants their music to be heard no matter how it gets to the listeners ears. Only the producers that would like to have profits from the album sales.
ANYWAY, I have not got out from apartment in two days straight. And today, I went out to accompany my grand mother to the dentist which was fun. Been spending the whole day with her. Simple. Good day. To be honest, I felt like an alien seeing town. Back with traffic and cars. Internet seemed quiet yet entertaining these past couple of days I almost forgotten the loud noises of outside world.
I kept breaking my own promise to get back writing since I got the whole time in the world but I always find something else to do which was not entirely productive.
Mind was being rebel these days. Screaming for something fresh out of the dump area of lousy ideas. I secretly wish songs that I have downloaded the other day may help a little to tame this, unsatisfied thoughts. Or even better, turning on the lights of this city back alive.

pictures were taken one day before McFly concert at Au Lait cafe. Hanging out with homies finally after the hectic exams which set us apart for a little while.
credits for Hanna Theodora.

Remembers a Voice and Hears Him Sing

2011-05-02T19:00:00.005+07:00

I think I gave my all on today's stalker activities. Was not my intention though but one link could link to other million links spread over the magical wire. I did not think I may have pulled another stalker skill any further. Thus, in the same time I realized I have missed lots of news. And hereby, I would like to say thanks to thy internet for serving me non-stop spicy links to consume during my plain day. Can't tell you how much (uncountable) webs I have been looking on for the past twelve hours. It was not quite bad at all, considering the lack of interest for doing anything else related to moving my ass around.
I have been noticing how good things going since McFly went here. I knew that I have this profound feelings towards them but I was not quite aware weeks ago, I wrote earlier in 2009 such a post and this post which embracing my affection towards Dougie and the rest of the guys of course. Reading that, I must have been the happiest girl in the entire galaxy when I met those bloody good looking lads last week. I was, actually. Still could not stop pinching myself - making sure I was not dreaming - and thanking God for every second that passed when my eyes could gaze right into them.
If I will ever have a biography in the future, meeting McFly last April definitely will be in it. Probably one of the highlight of my teenager year. Or maybe the reason why I am able to launch the biography book itself. Who knows. The event has over shadowed me for the last couple of days. Twas the best of the best. So I was not quite excited as much as I did last Sunday, towards anything else. Noted, it was not that I did not feel excited at all. Just not as much.
I just got back from Bandung, the closest getaway from Jakarta, for several days. Visit lots of new places I have never been to with my closest high school mates, the one and only, International Class 2011. Though flu caught me bad on the very second day. Still, good times. Then continued with my parents for another two days where I really feel using the real function of Bandung city, which was shopping. All hail factory outlets! Now I finally have something new in my closet. Been dying for reincarnation in any form around here! Slowly getting one though.
Ok. Last but not least, congratulations for William and Catherine! Hope the wedding based from true love and there shall be no divorce. Amen. I mean it. Good to have king and queen all together in one piece of royal art

If Someone Ask Why Am I Still Awake, Tell Them It's Dougie's Fault.

2011-04-30T02:06:00.005+07:00

I hope you all spare the mercy upon me during the hardest phase after seeing someone who have been waited for too long agenda. I kinda suck using this highly motivated technologies. I lost my bluetooth hardware while my laptop has not been supported with bluetooth connectivity. And I am currently on the ultimate urge of changing my background image on my deary blackberry. So I've got to post few of Doug's best pictures I have found somewhere between the sea of information, the internet. As I go on doing my best job in the middle of the night as a surfer. Surfing the internet, I stumble upon this video which shot in my home country, Indonesia. The last question blew me away. I should have not seen this. Though I knew the case. But still, it keeps me awake. Like forever.

It has been a while for me for able to feel this again. Been good & blessed!

There are things that I'd like to keep still as a secret. And sometimes I'd chose to lie just for the sake of keeping everything undercover. Just sayin'

credits to: http://sweetastoffee.tumblr.com and http://isleptwithdougieleepoynter.tumblr.com

Galaxy Defenders Stay Forever.

2011-04-26T16:08:00.004+07:00

"It was rather sad than funny how something that had been planned for so long ends within a moment."
-Tom Fletcher.

Prologue:

A bit of preface, I knew McFly from Lindsay Lohan's movie called "Just My Luck". I did not catch them at the first time I watched the movie. But some day in 2004, I watched it again for the second time. My eyes caught this guy which only had one line in the movie. He was Dougie. Dougie Poynter, bassist from McFly. I was not quite sure why, I fell hard for this guy. I started to search his music, and I fell deeper. McFly easily became my favorite band. Different with any other band that I was currently listened to, McFly's songs went to the most played song on every media player I have. As if, they were the only exception for pop band; their music was rather boyband-ish but I unconditionally love them.
Then I made myspace because they have this official website where the fans can communicate to.
Not so long after, me and my best friend, Andra, started to make this novel inspired by McFly due to the intense feeling towards the band. That was the first Indonesian novel I have ever written. Two years later, we finally finished it for around more than 200 pages.
In 2005, the second year of junior high, I made the best decision from the best random thoughts ever. I made a band with the coolest girls I would like to keep for the rest of my life. I chose as a bassist; although I have zero experience related to bass. Guess why I chose bass? Yes. Because of Doug. As simple as that.
I could not imagine how sucks my life would be if I did not jump in to the that world. World where music as the president. I won't be like who I am now, with good people surrounding me, if I did not make a band.
April 2009, twitter barely launched in the cyber space. At first, it did not appeal to me since I was not quite sure about the purpose of it. But then, I made one because all of McFly members got their own personal twitter account. It makes everything easier and more simple using twitter as the media between fans and the artists.
From that moment on, I always been related to McFly.
though I fancy other bands, McFly is the only band I memorized all the lyrics. McFly also one of the reason I developed this deep and intimate relationship with United Kingdom and everything in it.
I'd say McFly came at the right time when I entered my teenage life, the first phase to live life based on my own choices.

The moment:

The news spread around two weeks in advance without sign of official message both from the promotor and band's management. The fans were left hanging by a thread. Few days later, there was another update from twitter telling the tickets were already on sale. I bought it on the second day. The moment when I bought the pre-sale ticket, I have not completely convinced I was about to see McFly live. I promised myself to focus my arse toward the national exams. So I did. The last two days of the national exams, twitter was flooded with McFly themselves telling they were about to leave London and heading to Jakarta. There, bits by bits I was starting to believe McFly is coming to town. I was ecstatic. April 21st, at the very last day of the exams, I heard McFly just arrived. I got more ecstatic. Literally. Still adapting myself with the shock McFly was currently in town, I went clueless what to do. I remember, Friday, rumor spread they were about to make appearance in one of local TV shows. It was true. I have been waiting in front of the telly for hours since early morning, then I heard McFly was called. One by one the band members showed up. There again, I cried. I saw Dougie, the reason of everything, right there on the television show, forty five minutes away driving here, in Jakarta. I was absolutely convinced more than ever, McFly is in Indonesia. My country. Where I was born. Soon I realized I have got to do something. I won't waste the chance that lies in front of my eyes.
I thank god for having the best best friends ever, the plan would not work 100% without Ryan and Andra.
Long story short, I met them face to face, hand to hand, you name it. I talked to them. Especially, I have told Dougie, he was the reason I played Bass and guess what, he seemed flattered. I've heard his voice, talking to me.
Once I was planning to go chase them to England and Australia for six years. None of the plan works though. But then, suddenly without any expectation, God has sets this plan, I do not need to chase them overseas, they come to me. Then I have seen them live. I was drowned among the songs I have been waiting for so long to sing along with them. They gave their best performance. I was completely satisfied. The best concert I have ever been so far.
The best day in my life.

If you ever heard someone says "I can't explain it in words" I've got to tell you, it's true. None of them were lies. It was something more than words. I feel like one of the American Idol contestant, and won the first place. It was like a dream come true. Or maybe it was something more than that.

Jakarta, Kick Arse!

2011-04-24T23:06:00.005+07:00

I'm going to make this simple and quick, I met the love of my life after six years of waiting.
Been wishing for this too long I almost cried.
Been looking forward to see them live for like forever.
Been loving the guy since the beginning I know how to love.
Been writing too many fictions based on them.
Been using his persona as the reason why I made a band.
If you know how much I adore them, I can tell you, it is something above and beyond that.
If you have read a line somewhere between the paragraph, describing someone who fall head over heels towards someone and want the whole world knows, for me,
I want the entire universe to know that I have just met,
McFly!
And I am planning to love them for the rest of my life.

I'd say, don't give up on anything. Good thing comes to those who waits.

Sous Le Ciel de Angleterre

2011-04-17T09:53:00.003+07:00

April been quite nice to me, though things did not show much of difference than the previous month or year, the urge to post new entry somehow abandoned due to the lack of variety of idea in mind. I have been busy with books and papers. And it may sound weird, but their usual habit pushing me off to the edge of hatred, had quietly gone. I think I have started a good relationship towards those books and papers. Nonetheless, the major thing I aimed for never left my mind nor my room. Painted in blue, red and white colors, it never missed to cheer me up during the most bore hour when battling with words to remember.
This just a brief post before the exams which going to be held tomorrow. Your blessing would be lovely.
I'll see you soon!

Invictus

2011-04-10T17:37:00.003+07:00

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

by William Ernest Henley

Beauty appear in various kind of forms. And this morning, I coincidentally found one beautiful poem. Invictus. Through the pronunciation itself already tells you there is something about it. As if the word breathe in the life on your eagerness to look out what it means. Invictus means undefeated or unconquerable. This is my favorite line, "I am the master of my fate: I am the captain of my soul." Oh dear lord, my blood goes tremble.
Aside this poem was written by one of British legendary, William Ernest Henley, this also known as the inspiration for Nelson Mandela to stand up from the struggle he suffered during his sentence in prison till it brought him up to be the president of South Africa and abolished the racism throughout the country. Some of his action fighting against the racism has been adapted into a movie called Invictus played by Morgan Freeman and Matt Damon. Go spare your time to watch it by the weekend, double inspiration. xx

I Hang You Up and then I Pull You Down.

2011-04-05T12:55:00.006+07:00

Hey April. Today is such a good day for writing. You should see the sky up out there. The cloud shaped exactly like on the drawing book; clear white as it shows a contrast against the soft blue sky. Though the summer heat is slightly too much, it is still pretty. Unfortunately I have to abandon the earth-friendly rules as I can't stand the heat, then turning on the air conditioner during mid-day instead of saving electricity. #boo. So I came home early, catching up All Time Low's new single, "I Feel Like Dancing" which already available on iTunes , go get them tigers. They are getting more pop-punk. Speaking of All Time Low, there is a friend of my other friend, whom I got introduced through facebook and did not seem to remember me anyway, has the same music taste like I do. Not being stereotype or such, I find it quite rare and entertaining finding someone who listen exactly the same artists like you do. Well, almost 98,9%, I am familiar with mostly every artists that he put up on his tumblr or twitter. He's a big fan of ATL and I just found out yesterday, we have the same favorite song from Mcfly. I mean, who listens to McFly? probably one out of fifteen. It is just cool to know your double-ganger on music scene.
Anyway, I have been waiting for April somehow. In less than two weeks I am going to face my final exam. My anxiety towards thee, made me lost ounce of sleep. Both in good and worried way. You know the feeling you have when you just hardly can wait for it to come to an end and you are finally going to feel free like the air.
The line pretty much sum up everything.
Aside from the sun, I have set up plans. Lots of it. Ready to launch right after mid of April. I hate to be the spoiler of few, but I am going to tell you as if you'd care, as soon I have got the confirmation.
Meanwhile, keep your feet on the ground and finger cross! See you soon.

Don't Panic, It's Just Vegetable.

2011-03-27T23:18:00.004+07:00

There is something very popular among teenagers in Indonesia nowadays, specially in Jakarta. It is something called "galau". I have tried to search it on google translate what is galau in English, it is pretty much similar with hubbub.
Very often people would call you such if you are being quiet, staring to the empty space without seemingly thinking. Hubbub most likely caused by the rough lane of romance. Whether you are in a broken heart phase or currently in trouble relating to the fellow crush. Although, hubbub is not limited only for things that related with heart (ew) just most of the statistic based on my private observation tells almost 97,5% technically tied with love (double ew). In broad definition, it is the situation where you have something in mind and directly/indirectly you show it to the public eyes. Within my conscious, galau is something that you hardly avoid. It can happen anywhere and anytime. And this is why it can be slightly dangerous; it may affect the society a huge pain in the ass. Everyone, who technically cares about you, will ask the same old question, "Are you okay?" "What happened?" and the easiest answer would be, "No, I'm okay." "Nothing happened." while deep down on both sides, each would say "What the @#$%. You're lying" "@#$% you, Can't you see I am not @#$%ing okay?!"
Shit as it sound, I have been on both sides. In the time when I am being the suspect, I do not want to hear any of my friends advice nor cheer. I just want to be in the valley of sobs and tears, there remembering the memories I can't repeat. Then when I slightly recovered, an hour or few days later, it is time for my friend that going through the valley, I was like cheering them as if I was the best cheerleader ever but they just won't listen. It pisses me off because I do not want to see my friend all sad and broken. but again, the cycle has to continue.
So far, there is no drugstore in the entire world sold the anti-galau medicine. It is still currently, cure-less. All we can do is wait and cope and endure.

Do me a favor, when you are hubbub, please remember to get up and go to the highest peak of the mountain and touch the sky or sun if you like, soon enough. Don't stay where you are before too long. It's depressing.

Chillax, I'm going to use it on myself. I'll try. Good luck for all of those teenagers out there! May god bless you and keep you out of galauness. xx

We Can Live Like Jack and Sally, If We Want.

2011-03-25T23:54:00.007+07:00

It's funny how things changed and I barely remember when and how it happened. It's funny I can't even laugh. Just like the wasted ashes from the burnt cigarette, I flew separately, to the different place I could not recall how I ended up here. I might make a list called 3W or "What Went Wrong" list. I can go on and on questioning why I stopped talking with the people I usually talked with for hours, everyday, before the sunrise or during the happy hour. Then again, why I quit updating my fashion blog and my facebook updates with pictures. If there is one thing that's not changing, it must be the growing habit of me, inconsistently failing on keeping this blog update.
For some people, the method on blaming something or someone may decrease the grief that suffocate the brain to stay in good sense. But on this case, there is nothing to point a finger to. In the most rational way of thinking, I have to admit the existence of nature's law, where things just happens as it is. Maybe at the point where it changed, I was too busy concentrating not to be drown inside the pool of disappointment then I got carried away and I started to claim things okay which in the same time I was trying to build the new foundation of something that had been broken. You know, the new routine. Aside from the loss of the previous missing details. Because when one's out, I just automatically got out from the circle and try to make a new one.
Then people just have deal with it. Though I am truly missing the moment I used to had with whoever I have been close in every way, I just have to deal what's in front of me now. Still, it is not like everything changed. There are things that are meant to stay. Like you, maybe. Reading this somewhere only you know.

This week recommendation would be Yellowcard's new album called When You're Through Thinking, Say Yes.
Among the preview songs on youtube, this goes my favorite, Hang You Up. Buy their CD or else you'd be hanging under the palm tree of regret. Cheerios

It's Much More Than It Seems.

2011-03-18T19:09:00.007+07:00

It feels good just to sit here and wander off between photos on facebook. The siren for reading formulas on the book is temporarily turned off during the weekend. The exam will continue on Monday. Roughly I have at least two days to let my muscle brain off duty. Earlier today during my exam, I had thirty minutes spare time before I have to submit my work, I chose not to sleep and I decided to write. I was not allowed to bring any paper, so I wrote between the question on the question sheet.
Yesterday, on random occurrence, I sat beside a friend of mine. We talked. But then she started to talk about someone who I have not seen for a while but never left my mind. Honestly, I would like to take every possible chances to avoid such a topic but it was too late to invade further discussion. In anyway, somehow I have no right to fear anything related to this person. It has been a very lot while ago. So yes, I have heard he's happy due to an obvious form of progress of something from someone. Well, while here, the situation did not change though before or after these couple of months. I like that person, and that person like somebody else. Yes, I get that clearly. But there was a part of me that withered every time I got remembered. That is why I hate being remembered. It pushed me to where I asked myself, "What should I do to make him changed his mind?"
I know it sounded sad and desperate. It sounded even more awful when sad and desperate put in one line. They should have not be together. What worse than that was, I know the situation and I still helplessly stay silent, not even an inch of moving forward or anywhere. I can't and I just won't.
And somehow, every time I have tried to look around, I'm just too afraid, afraid that what had happen, or happening is going to end up in repetition.

It's Nothing but Too Little to Miss.

2011-03-12T23:33:00.002+07:00

if there is one video that could make me stay up all night and write, this would be the one:

I found this video a couple hours ago, and I just could not left this laptop alone although I have to wake up very early tomorrow and my eyes were getting weary as the hours brought me somewhere nearly midnight. I could not find the sensible ideas why the voice I have heard through the web based visual audio able to attract me in such a way. In a way where common hands and thoughts were not able to reach.

While motivation books bores me (sometimes) this person so far have not failed to inspire me doing anything related to words. I just need to repeat three or five times then I am armored. After I watched the video, I came up with a page full of scenario for the upcoming future play.

If John Mayer asks, "Why, Georgia, Why" I'd ask, "Why, Dika, Why"

Can't Stop. Won't Stop.

2011-03-09T21:56:00.003+07:00

I must have mentioned Dougie earlier. He was the one who indirectly shoved me into the bass. With the minimum capability of playing well, Doug pushed me to be on the bass. There I am still currently taking over the bass in my over-awesomeness band. I heard the news he was entering the rehab due to the tough break up with this almost a year girlfriend. I never thought in my life would ever heard someone like Dougie entered a rehab. This phase must be hard for him and I feel bad for not being around. You know, it's an undeniable para-social feeling. And Mcfly also played a role for my sincerely deep unconscious feeling towards the United Kingdom.

My para-social relationship did not end there. There were several guys from the band who captivate me by their own uniqueness. I have got to tell you, band members are hard to resist - especially their hazardous charm. Oliver Sykes, lead singer from Bring Me The Horizon, was an arse. Oli once inspired me to write 97 pages hand written story involving his characters when I was on my third year in Junior High. The only person who still shine with tattoos all over his body.

He came by to Jakarta last week, but I did not have the chance to meet him in person. Feeling that I had for him was temporarily buried but as soon I saw his video in my hometown, things were scratching back to the surface for another round. I miss him.

Oh, and not to mention he is British.

March On

2011-03-03T22:18:00.003+07:00

Hi, I shall welcome March before entering the informal prologue.

To be honest I did not like changes.

Remember my five-week IELTS course? It already finished. Those five weeks routines had to go down to history along with the title of the first course I enjoyed the most - I'd willing to come five days a week without wanting to missed it even for a day. This was different than any other courses that I had been or currently attending. There were doubts here and there and the humongous feeling to stay at home rather than anything if it was not IELTS prep class. This, just different. And I liked it. And I have to let come to an end.

Another case, my approximately ten years transportation-assistant who drove me around to school and back home had to resign. He had been part of the family; the little thing that matters a lot on my daily routines. There, I had to let it go for the more compromising future.

After those changes occur, I am forced to squeeze myself into the new one. I know that is how life goes but that just not coming any closer to my favorite list. I noticed, instead of being less emotional on my 18th year of my life, I think I tend to be more emotional lately.

Ugh, that last line sounded like I admitted a defeat. Anyhow, I am excusing myself for my lack of update these time around. I have few things running down the list for the upcoming freedom. So, I am going to take care these things first then I'll come to you. Saying hi. I hope I will bring good news. Cheers, xx.

A King. A String and Fighting.

2011-02-20T22:00:00.002+07:00

17+

this just the movie that you need to convinced yourself that Ashton Kutcher is worth to fall for. Despite this movie immensely emphasize on intimate term of unusual relationship, the story hides the beauty of the main conflict. Where here, Ash had the chance to make most of the girl's fantasy of him being romantic shown during the climax somewhere near the last minute of the movie. There was one tiny, simple line that took my five seconds breath away (and you could hear Ashton's voice shaking almost into tears). Go see for yourself, I won't be a spoiler here. Just don't take your eyes off the screen and your ears off the sound when Natalie Portman just confessed her feeling to Ashton. Oh, and make sure you are seventeen and above ;)

*Worth watching but not yet favorite movie.

I thought this going to be boring and dull. but Queen Elizabeth was right, this was a good movie. I did not sleep throughout the movie. The face of Britain was well-drawn. This just exactly the movie that suits Golden Globe and Oscar.

I personally never paying much attention to the fighter's life but this true story put me in additional knowledge towards those tough fighters. They fight for everything. Both way of everything. And their fight somehow worth to be noticed. Christian Bale looked sublime with thin cheeks, I almost did not recognize him. And Mark Wahlberg's abs was stunning. From downtown Lowell in States this movie is pretty fine.

Hide and Seek

2011-02-19T19:05:00.003+07:00

Being in senior year strangled me for having the total good times - this is me, a student who prefer sleep rather than calculating math. I did not lose all the spare time, there is just a border which limits the intensity of me having great deal of fun. It somehow put me in the situation where, I can not have it all full. I am only somewhere in between. Books and subjects in school did not appeal to me as much as live music. I am in drought of having my creativity mind back. Few rooms in my head are already locked due to the excessive try outs in these past three weeks where some rooms are supposedly remain open for the thoughtful ideas creeping in. The sound of responsibility doing the job I, personally detest just seemingly refuse to stop whispering. Though, at the end I always end up doing anything but that.

I apologies if there might be another upcoming post decorated with words of mumble because this site is the closest getaway from the unwillingness of doing tasks. Most of the time I just opened up every websites, check the updates and close it within one minute and in the third minute, I opened it again for the sake of losing this tension. Sometimes I set an hour limit and telling myself to move my ass and start doing something academically. The plan worked roughly 2%. That is why I crowned myself as the best procrastinator of the year. It has become a notorious habit I dreadfully hopes to disappear pretty soon.

The phrase saying, there will be a sunshine after the rain sometimes is defenselessly true. After I string up trains of complaining thoughts, I started to see what was wrong and pretty much giving me ideas to do something that might fit to cover the flaws.

Oh dear, I am running out of sentences, see you later folks. xx

This, Pretty.

2011-02-13T14:40:00.000+07:00

“Date a girl who reads. Date a girl who spends her money on books instead of clothes. She has problems with closet space because she has too many books. Date a girl who has a list of books she wants to read, who has had a library card since she was twelve. Find a girl who reads. You’ll know that she does because she will always have an unread book in her bag.She’s the one lovingly looking over the shelves in the bookstore, the one who quietly cries out when she finds the book she wants. You see the weird chick sniffing the pages of an old book in a second hand book shop? That’s the reader. They can never resist smelling the pages, especially when they are yellow. She’s the girl reading while waiting in that coffee shop down the street. If you take a peek at her mug, the non-dairy creamer is floating on top because she’s kind of engrossed already. Lost in a world of the author’s making. Sit down. She might give you a glare, as most girls who read do not like to be interrupted. Ask her if she likes the book. Buy her another cup of coffee. Let her know what you really think of Murakami. See if she got through the first chapter of Fellowship. Understand that if she says she understood James Joyce’s Ulysses she’s just saying that to sound intelligent. Ask her if she loves Alice or she would like to be Alice. It’s easy to date a girl who reads. Give her books for her birthday, for Christmas and for anniversaries. Give her the gift of words, in poetry, in song. Give her Neruda, Pound, Sexton, Cummings. Let her know that you understand that words are love. Understand that she knows the difference between books and reality but by god, she’s going to try to make her life a little like her favorite book. It will never be your fault if she does. She has to give it a shot somehow. Lie to her. If she understands syntax, she will understand your need to lie. Behind words are other things: motivation, value, nuance, dialogue. It will not be the end of the world. Fail her. Because a girl who reads knows that failure always leads up to the climax. Because girls who understand that all things will come to end. That you can always write a sequel. That you can begin again and again and still be the hero. That life is meant to have a villain or two. Why be frightened of everything that you are not? Girls who read understand that people, like characters, develop. Except in the Twilightseries. If you find a girl who reads, keep her close. When you find her up at 2 AM clutching a book to her chest and weeping, make her a cup of tea and hold her. You may lose her for a couple of hours but she will always come back to you. She’ll talk as if the characters in the book are real, because for a while, they always are. You will propose on a hot air balloon. Or during a rock concert. Or very casually next time she’s sick. Over Skype. You will smile so hard you will wonder why your heart hasn’t burst and bled out all over your chest yet. You will write the story of your lives, have kids with strange names and even stranger tastes. She will introduce your children to the Cat in the Hat and Aslan, maybe in the same day. You will walk the winters of your old age together and she will recite Keats under her breath while you shake the snow off your boots. Date a girl who reads because you deserve it. You deserve a girl who can give you the most colorful life imaginable. If you can only give her monotony, and stale hours and half-baked proposals, then you’re better off alone. If you want the world and the worlds beyond it, date a girl who reads. Or better yet, date a girl who writes.”

—
Rosemary Urquico (via kblitz)(via timeismakingfoolsofusagain)

A+K

2011-02-12T10:33:00.003+07:00

Noticing that life is never going to be like the movie, shattered my wish into pieces.

This social network had lost its ability to entertain me. And what become the worst, I could not blame anything nor anybody for it. I could not ask anyone to solve this, this empty jar of sparkles. The color started to fade within hours, and there was no money left in my wallet to get myself a paint brush along with pack of watercolor. This what slowly kills my common senses. More things lining up on my non-sense list. As if I have swallowed the whole gravity down in to my throat, and I no longer feel right, like I was floating around with nothing comes along to be my grip. Although this sounded worse in context but that would not change the way my hair unfurl insignificantly. There was a moment where I opened my iTunes and I got very lost I did not know which song I should play. Or once, the song that I hoped might calm me turned out to be as plain as sauce-less hamburger.

I'd say in my defense, there were too much things going on at once. Things that require million of extreme focus. While my head's capability perhaps just reached thousands or slightly less. You know, school demanding for obscure attention. While someone who once I have shared a brief yet impressive feeling currently in town, I still did not understand how we ended up not talking at all. World is weird, eh. And I got C- for writing. That, my friend, pretty depressing. Anyway,

Thank you for the existence of Ashton Kutcher whom has written down in to my life history as my favorite actor, and helped me forget the world for around 108 minutes.

To whoever read this, wish me luck for everything.

Truths Are Easier to Remember

2011-02-01T21:27:00.003+07:00

In the current hour, through the piles of minutes and seconds, there are too many things to be listed running in laps inside my head. It almost caused a silence riot which implied me here. Sometimes when there are just too many things need to be done, I just ended up looking for salvation. Things itself may not existed as much as I had in mind, but it just impersonate stress in every line.

If trees has journal, I believe in between the strong and firm appearance, there are moments when they feel very vulnerable like a feather. Either in drought, storm, or when the air just simply polluted.

Spaces giving me the gap for complaining the littlest visible form of flaw.

I ended up blaming routines for taking away my spare time to write. I kind of miss writing recently. Somehow I maintain to keep it safe under the polite demeanor though the swears refuse to shut up deep inside.

"I have no time to write." mumbled me when I was alone in the elevator that brought me into the front door of my apartment. The spare time just shrunk in one motion. Mirror at the end of the hallway screamed at me. I looked bad but not yet awful nor horrible. I lost weight, seen from my thin cheek.

I walked home today, crossing the bridge from the other side of busy street. I stopped over at McDonald's which never sleep. Just because the yellow light striking my eyes assuming it calling me to buy some meals. And I did. I bought French Fries. Two. I was having my alone time where I tend to be very consumptive.

And that's that.

Oh, one more thing, I owe this blog an eternal thank you. Thank you for being the best brief getaway. I'm telling you if I left without anything to do, I might end up burning packs of unsolvable wrapped tobaccos.

Kidding.

Jack Spare Me His Band-Aid

2011-01-31T19:57:00.002+07:00

Dear blog,

Hello and Hi. It has been pretty little while since I updated you with an entry. To be honest, I have tried several times to write something here but I could not helplessly to failed pressing the publish post link. The span of neglecting this blog had cost me a personal guilty as if I was abandoning my favorite Siberian Husky puppy by the corner.

If you were wondering where I was, which I believe none of you would, it was just me that thinking this might be necessary. :p I was, uh, well, by the definition I must have pretty much qualified as being in the closest meaning to a... living the busy schedule.

Last week was crazy. I had no one definite day off from seven days written on the calendar. I barely begin my IELTS preparation class for five days a week, Monday to Friday which technically crashed with my other extra class, for straightly to the following five weeks. On last weekend, I had test for entering the private university outside the town. That goes the whole day of the week. But the good thing was, I currently still breathing. Though I could feel the tension running through my vein and not to mention, my mind. This new activities either pumped and exhaust me. Both in a good and slightly bad way. In the oddest way of saying, last Sunday, if you asked me where I want to be, I would say my IELTS class. It was just neatly arranged, mostly the British accent, bright lights and good vibe of English language. Even though, the lesson was not as easy as any mind could assume.

And moving on, between the tough days, I had a chance to watched The Butterfly Effect (borrowed from a good teacher of mine). It was an old movie, roughly around early 2000s. Ashton Kutcher played a role there. I just want to tell you, that has been officially stamped as my favorite movie ever, based on my opinion. Seriously.

Other than that, there was nothing really need to worry or discuss.

I love you and I have to get back to wherever my responsibility leads. xx

It Won't End Tonight

2011-01-23T19:46:00.002+07:00

Have I told you writing blog is just the coolest sixty minutes getaway from boring routines that almost choked me to the death of lively laughs? If I have not, I might have just kind of did. Days were just pulling me out of this pleasure to treat my spare time around here, simply wandering around by bytes. And mostly, write. Or just... wander.

Senior year consumed most of my hours reading non-fiction paragraphs which again, boring. I could not help to feel the tension of worries creeping trough my finger tips all along till my nerves on my brain heard it. but somehow it did not change me as the best procrastinator ever. I enjoyed in every bits of being under procrastination. sometimes.

The closest example was just now, I should have doing something, somewhere else but I guess this blog had been neglected long enough. So, I'll talk to you soon.

If Your Life Had a Face, I'd Punch It.

2011-01-16T01:00:00.004+07:00

Weekend for me is like a playground for kids. After five days straight of drilling exercise on papers, written black and white statically, slideshows, number, you name it, then I saw a gap to breathe. I did not say I did not breathe along those five days, but it was like a travesty. A puppet show, controlled by other hands.

So, do not blame me if I got too much by the weekend. I writes till I left trace on the chair. I watched youtube till my eyes went red. I stayed up all night doing nothing related to theoretically education. Whilst for me, movies are education too. I have been a junkie to movies these days. Though sometimes, they slapped me right on the face. Irony is another form of indirect bliss. Embrace it.

I kept breaking my promises to stay on track, well, I was the one who deserve a blame, I was too stupid to bother making promises that I knew I would break it. Another part of being a teenager. A phase that only came once. I should have enjoyed it wisely. There were just some moments that wrapped me in malice, not just once but so many times. Probably more often than good thoughts stopping by. I was thinking to get a tattoo that will always reminds me to dismissed all the negative thoughts. Like a... triangle shape? or.. a sheep shape? No way that sounds legit. Or, a laptop, which has been my best friend for a while. A while enough to began my suspicion, Acer had put a spell on me so I could barely separate with it. And in another word, I have been enjoying alone. Solitude is a pure bliss. My thoughts were already loud, louder than any drums and guitars putting together, and sometimes my head just could not bear anymore war from other cells. Nothing was wrong, it was just the timing that shoved me here.

Good Ancient, You Are Welcome.

2011-01-09T01:31:00.003+07:00

Dateline is another word of saying a coercion to slave line of duty which tormented the soulless brain into a total wreck.

And distraction just the perfect impermanent salvation from the big hole of relationship between writer's block and date line. This just one of the form of lissome distraction I carelessly obtained. A blog post.

I bought Othello by Shakespeare last Friday, do not ask me why I tend to buy Macbeth but I got diverted without certain reason. I also, attending my first friend that is blessedly getting married. That went on to the part where I wander off when someday in the future I could see my self and my band mates preparing for the wedding; Oh why my band mates because this, the one who was getting married, was a friend of mine that was in a very dedicative talented power pop band called The Ingredients.

They have been a good friend of mine almost three years ago. I may have mentioned them once in a while between my previous blog post. They all are around five years above my age, so relax, they are legally certified to get married. Oh, as the matter of fact, mine's too. Uh, I should re-arrange my sentence, they are in the common year of age maturity to get married.

They are swell. Age doesn't really interfere our relationship. I had swell night too, looking back to what I had in the past, and could laugh at it. In the same time catching those lines that lost in trails for months of tight schedule we did not get the chance to hang out.

Unfortunately I didn't save my camera to take a picture. Sometimes, I had this, excuse to defend my self that true memories will stay in mind without the help of a photograph.

Take care all. You'd better wish me a smooth sailing to the end of my last page project.

Where All the Chivalry Went These Days?

2011-01-07T22:32:00.006+07:00

Do you know most of the things has a scent to smell? I have never certified to any scientific proves as in books, an article or else. But according to my undemanding observant observation, I figured that most of the things has a smell.

Just like tonight's scent, the poignant smell of fresh plastics very thin yet glossy and pretty, hiding in between but still caught off guard. Which the reason why I am still awake by three hours to sunrise. I have got few plastics that wrapped a circle shaped solid matter as known as a disk. Easy A, The Prince and Me, Going Through the Distance, Scott Pilgrim vs. the World and The Runaways are my pills for the night. There is no other way to feel really alive after watching stories of twisted minds and characters on screen. There is no better way to seek the sun creeping through the window.

I almost could not feel my feet cause it started to froze under the one room circulated low temperature air conditioner while my thoughts were running too fast my shadow could barely keep up. The unlighted living room by the dawn, everything was motionless in stare. Left overs by the dining table. Freshly read news papers lie on the floor, restless. I walked through the carpet, across the not much to describe chair, unless the metallic grip by the two sides, to my balcony. I was on my bare feet, touching skin to skin by the velvet mundane peach floor, my mouth was not closed just like my undiscovered thoughts flying between towers and reached back down my throat as I finally recognize the smell of dawn. Light, deep and feeble. There was mountain of dew at the edge of the view, all smoky grey almost white right under the darkest skyline. The streets looked like they are dead, though the tall buildings telling me they are in love, and the lights, oh those dashing lights, were the second best part of the picture. The scent of breaking dawn got to be on the first place.

The sun has calling me to sleep, just because I have to.

Good night, J.

A Letter to the Sun

2011-01-02T02:26:00.005+07:00

This letter was written three days before New Year’s Eve.

Dear sun,

I see you shine every day. It gets me thinking, as soon you left the sky, you are rotating to the other side of the world, aren’t you?

Would it be too much if I asked you to be modest and kind, send my dearest regards to thee my friend, whom currently is half the world away? Because I know, you’d get to see him whenever you leave me.

I am absolutely sure you will like him. He’s the one with the best personality a seventeen year old guy could ever have.

Would you mind checking whether he is fine as apple juice and still smell like the Irish spring?
Thank you.

Oh, and sun, tell him this town taste sour without his jokes. Tell him the crowd wants him to come back soon. Tell him, tell him I miss him too much till this note could not bear any more words of mine.

Your small yet biggest fan,

Fiya.

NYE. New York Eity. Joking.

2011-01-01T21:45:00.004+07:00

Life is sturdily attached to excuses; one substantial matter in life that nobody could live without is excuse. Most of the red-letter dates were inoffensively being used as the stomp yard to begin or doing something. New year's eve for example, if you want to change your hair style, begin to write a book that soon become a Pulitzer winner or moving on does not require a date to be done but the past has inherited certain culture towards the public eyes, hereditary, then become a common habit.

I, too, admit that I do need dates to begin something, it runs in my blood to participate in such common habit although I secretly wish my mind would stop subscribing to the public where I do not need occasion to run a resolution. And speaking of new year's eve, this year I had the chance to spent it at my band mate, Arky, residence in the suburban fringe away from the heart of the town. I was honorarily invited to a barbecue party along with the rest of her family. Since my ass was not the type of an ass that could sit tight on a specific date, which include December 31st (unlike my family who in the exact opposite of me that could sleep during new year's eve) I came along.

The house was pretty just like the fireworks that lighted up that night, aside from the intolerable loud noise, the food(s) were great, combination between French fries and MnM's chocolate were cute. Me and Adam, Arky's younger brother, grilled most of the food, I found quite jolly acting like a professional chef for a night. Oh and the high light for the night was I accidentally inspired to roast a candy, named Yupi which pervade to roast the innocent grape. Ka Adit, Arky's older brother, joined me in my spontaneous experiment, and I got to say it did not end bad, it was rather quite successful.

A wine toast, fireworks, the meal were awesome. I couldn't thank them enough for having me on new year's eve. I made few phone calls as I appreciate the change of year. I am blessed to have good people surrounding me.

All I'm saying, I had a good new year's eve. A great day to stared the new year of 2011.

Happy new year, everyone!

Jack Broke My Heart

2010-12-27T17:36:00.002+07:00

As I quote from the all time favorite band of mine, All Time Low, "Maybe it's not my weekend, but it's gonna be my year" phrase represent what I would like to say about this post.

Technically, I could make every year as my year, but this one so far, was totally my year which I couldn't thank god enough for his blessing every single day.

There were two things that would be the highlight of this year,

1. I finally breathe the air of British royalty

2. I saw All Time Low live

and the rest, I turned eighteenth this year.

I have been taught a lot of feeling through out 365 days; Feelings where set me on ease or the complete other way around. Time flies quite fast, it seemed like just yesterday I had a school trip to Singapore with my school mates and I barely talked about the new year's eve. But it has been a good 12 months.

This Christmas holiday was unintentionally went well. Other than the decent solitude with writing, I went out of town with my family for three days and in between I hang around with Arky and her cool siblings, Ka Adit and Adam. It was another piece of salty spice on the last week of 2010, I got the chance to see somewhere else out of the mundane home town with friends; sometimes unplanned things could turn out to be perfect. We were randomly stopping by at the hippest meeting point in Bandung called Paris Van Java, then I saw a place where I thought never existed other than in my head. It was almost midnight, the store was already closed, and there was this one place, up at the highest floor, an ice rink. At the moment, the main lamps were off, left only colorful projections of lights through one center controlling room spread all over the ice rink. The ceiling was also full with green and red laser dots as though it was the starry sky. The ice rink was cold till there was a visible fume emanate from the bottom of the ice. And as the last touch, there was this one old all time mellow song resound across the room.

It was beautiful. I almost did not care how awful my face looked like due to the overwhelming shock.

I'll see you next year.

He Said "Lookin' Good"

2010-12-26T19:59:00.002+07:00

Hey blog, how you doin'? I've been a very pretty mess recently. If you wonder how do I look like these past three days I probably would look like the monsters under your bed.

No, I'm kidding.

I've been living with my favorite dark blue sweatshirt and it has been a pretty good solitude. The most far place I went in these past three days was my kitchen. I've made a quite deep emotional connection with coco crunch and my laptop.

Just me, the internet, Microsoft word and my laptop. Fine days.

I am currently subscribing to European time, so I slept around 5 A.M which around 11 P.M in Britain and woke up around 2 P.M which around 9 A.M in Europe. If I look back, things were pretty neat. New year is coming within a week. Rad. Very rad. Indonesia made in to the final against Malaysia. Another rad point.

Pretty good vibe to end the year. I'll catch up with you later in a special post talking about 2010. In the mean time, I've got to get back to the game, it's back on. xx

Ini Bukan Itu

2010-12-17T01:22:00.006+07:00

Kalo menurut gue, konsep jodoh itu bukan cuma kesengajaan. Jodoh itu terlalu penting dibandingin sama sengaja yang jatohnya simpel banget. Jodoh itu jauh dari definisi gampang atau mudah. Karena menurut gue, jodoh itu serius, sama kaya seberapa pentingnya kamar mandi kalo mendadak kebelet pipis. Justru jodoh itu lebih dari sekedar ketemu disuatu tempat secara ngga sengaja, pake baju warna yang sama tanpa janjian atau punya kebiasaan yang sama tanpa diketahui.

Dimana-mana hal yang dicapai lewat suatu pengorbanan, dua atau tiga kali jatoh, luka, jalan buntu atau jalan yang ribet itu lebih diinget. Lebih berkesan. Bukan berarti kalo semua hal keliatan ribet artinya ngga jodoh. Mungkin aja sebaliknya, ya kan? Tuhan mau kita lebih berjuang akan hal itu, dan bisa nunjukin segimana pentingnya hal yang kita kejar ini. Mungkin juga, dalam perjalanan perjuangan itu kita bisa nemuin kompas, supaya lebih jelas, apa iya semuanya layak?

Kalo sampe ada perasaan, "Apa gue maksa?"

Maksa itu bisa terjadi waktu secara ngga langsung otak memprogram keraguan yang awalnya cuma bisik bisik, jadi pohon mangga yang besar banget. Kenapa bisa jadi pohon mangga, gue juga gatau. Tapi kalo pertanyaan itu muncul untuk kesekian kalinya, padahal udah dicoba sekali atau dua kali ngusir itu dengan mengambil aksi tertentu, berarti... dia belum sepadan. Atau kemungkinan satu lagi, rumah lo enak jadi pertanyaannya betah.

Kalo diliat-liat, semuanya itu beda tipis. Benci sama suka, bego sama gila, cupu sama baik, tipis banget bedanya.

Lebih tipis dibanding martabak fatmawati yang di perempatan D'best. Wajar kalo keserempet kesana-sini. Tapi sebenernya... jelas. Beda tipis, tapi keliatan. Kerasa. Karena ini salah satu hal yang dirasa pake hati, bahkan buat pembohong kelas kakap, gurame atau eksekutif aja, ngga bisa kuasain.

Jodoh itu luas, bisa aja keterkaitan sesuatu secara otomatis tanpa direncanakan, tapi bukan sebatas itu aja. Kesamaan dalam keterkaitan ini, bagian kecil dari keseluruan arti jodoh. Bisa aja post ini cuma hasil dari batu bata teori unverified sampah gue yang lama-lama jadi gedung paling tinggi di otak gue, tapi at least gue ga pernah membunuh motivasi gue untuk berdiri terus kan?

Setiap kali gue ngerasa ada satu kesempatan yang gue lewatin, gue ga pernah pulang nunduk atau bawa take away rasa nyesel, karena gue tau masih ada kesempatan lain yang pasti gue lebih siap. Dimana gue bisa dateng dengan kepercayaan diri penuh, udah siap menerjang badai, becek, buku yang setebel printer, atau muka seseorang yang dengan mudahnya bikin gue lemes sekejap dan lupa caranya ngomong dengan hanya ngerasain keberadaan dia depan gue.

Semua itu proses. Biasanya yang instant, ga pernah sehat.

p.s: hari ini gue belum tidur jam setengah empat pagi dan ini post pertama gue dalam bahasa indonesia (bukan maksud sok bule tapi karena gue emang lemah di bahasa indonesia) khusus buat seseorang yang ngembaliin inspirasi gue untuk yakin gue bisa nulis pake bahasa indonesia juga, sekali-sekali. :)

@RadityaDika

2010-12-14T17:07:00.004+07:00

Meet Raditya Dika, he is one of the best author in Indonesia.
(According to my dictionary and I do not care about the other's)

He is one of the guy who suits my definition as a good looking guy without even bother to dress up or try to be one. Cause within his presence he has a charm that able to attract, hooked and impressed someone in the same time.

Beneath his jokes and irrelevant sense of humor, he has this a deep side of him that he tries to keep under the radar.

I do not know him personally, but some says you could know someone through his writing. And I have read few of his works. And every time I read, I could feel something about him. Not in the wrong way. Just the thing that he did not put up front. Thing that stays behind his expression. That is also one of the reason I define myself as his big fan, he writes. He writes in his own way. A guy who writes already caught my attention, and this one sure got A LOT of my attention.

I have always wanted to meet him by any chances. Once I did try but faith seemed not on my side at that time. So I kept this believe, that he is just the the flight I've wanted to get on, and it's just the trick of time delaying my departure. But soon, soon I'll meet him, just as much as I always wanted to.

Tongue Like Electric, Eyes Like a Child.

2010-12-11T20:26:00.002+07:00

Just by seeing him, I would just like go and bring him home.

Rather than letting this page alone. I shall update with the little touch of well-being creature from the Great Britain.

That's George Craig. He's all in one package.

The intensity of December is high which I do not really enjoy much. But this is life, folks.

I've Got One of My Birthday Wishes List Crossed.

2010-12-07T19:58:00.004+07:00

I know I have no rights to tell you what to hear or what to read, but as your eyes has reached this post.
I've got to tell you how sick my day went. I played soccer earlier this morning and I scored one goal. ONE GOAL.
I stood on my tip toe and praise the unusual pride I've collect today. This was my first match after the last game I could recall when I was nine or ten year old. So you'd sure understand how I felt really good about a moment of glory.
And second, I went to the airport.
This wasn't the ordinary, "I went to the airport because someone is leaving" kind of thing. I went to the airport because I just felt like it. And I am very grateful to god for giving me a chance to hang out with one of the coolest kids in the entire world. Karin, Ryan and Upal were tha bomb of tha day. I've got to tell you a secret, I have been wanting to do this on my birthday. But as a wise and odd proverbs from Paris Hilton, We've got to live like everyday is our birthday. Present never expired. They didn't know I want this. But they gave me one of the day I wanted to have. Gas station. I tried on a children dress (for 11 year old) on the airport's department store. We took shuttle from Terminal 1 - 3. Went to the waving... waving whatever it called. Fuck yeah I had fun.
I know eyes bored to deal with details, so I am going to make this short as possible.
You've got to listen this carefully. I have the days I wanted back on my grip.

Only the Strong Survived

2010-12-01T21:36:00.005+07:00

As I wrote this in English, implied to thee English exam by tomorrow morning. My eyes falling slowly rhymed within every ticks of the clock, where's the moon I shall met when the night comes? Ascending beat flows as the iTunes exhale the noise of a speaker. The day has brought me well, overlay the rusty bridge from one to another, unite what has been lost for weeks and weeks. Traffic and rain were pack of jokes, running out the attention of common sense that highly overrated nowadays. Over the top bass volume was tolerable, just like the full-length loud conversations through the hours. Indifference tone of laughs and tears smeared the ears under the afternoon sky. Few lines has changed the irritating white blank post that require a title which I chose randomly had done enough decoration to my so called preparation for tomorrow. I have done the least of my mind could think of. And been a while I haven't brought this one up, I had quite fun. Time to greet the woozy bed.

Hello December, long time no see.

Keep The Change, You Filthy Animal.

2010-11-29T20:59:00.004+07:00

Sometimes it gets very easy to fall in love with the characters on the movie, books or TV series rather than fall in love with a real person that existed in the real world. Cause real person would hurt much than characters in the movie and anything real tend to be a constant disappointment in life. A big one. Although I could hear whisper to stop and start to look around, open my eyes widely and forget what had happened in the past six months, I'd still be in the same place and not moved even an inch. Distance and undefined social network made things uglier since it increase the percentage of making assumption that still doubted the accuracy but haunting like it was a fact and be stupidly annoying to daily mood.

I have tried to hate and forget things, making promises to myself, but it came down to no point. Even my eyes were too exhausted to cry. My legs too tired to run and chase. Its just my fingers that hasn't reached anywhere, still writing about something I recently assume, worthless. Most of the time my head and my mind went through a significant disagreement on something, and when once they had met in mutual, such as labeling someone as best, it frozen like an eternal ice.

I wanna feel light not much of a responsibility to carry, and fall in love as easy as I could. I've wasted my time being serious, and I had enough. I'll start to sleep with no lights on, jump on and on and on on my bed till I touched the ceiling of my room and no one could stop me, eat dinner in the middle of the night lights off TV's on, dyed my hair hair pink and felt nothing. I'll make my life like a party where everyone's invited and more than welcome.

My November Post Promise

2010-11-27T21:45:00.003+07:00

I should say sorry for breaking my November promise. (to keep on writing blog daily)

I turned eighteen and I haven't feel like it yet. Probably I was busy looking for something that I could find. Although I had no idea what I was looking for. It could be anything in any form. My head was too occupied with everything till I couldn't understand how I supposed to feel. As if my heart was playing hide and seek this week. I guess my mind been staying somewhere unreal. Somewhere where houses were made by expectations and it always gets me fall in the gutter of disappointment when I tried to get back to the world of reality. I mean, what surrounds me just not enough to support me to stay within my expectation. Another thing that gets very annoying: to expect. Just like a snow lover expecting to see the snow when he/she lives in a tropical land.

Is it me or things happen like they wants to eat me alive? I should have been more....loose. Heckyeah I'm18!

I saw people that I would like to keep forever in my life on my birthday. and that's all that matters.

I would like to kiss my shuffle tonight for spoiling my ears with good songs.

P.S: don't stay at home on your birthday cause it sucks.

You've Got Nothing to Fear, If You've Got Nothing to Hide.

2010-11-21T23:23:00.004+07:00

God. Harry Potter burned me alive.

Harry Potter was my first sparks for falling in love with Britain in 2001. Including the almighty British accent.
Red hair guy looks way more attractive in this movie.
Ron has this indescribable sex appeal that pulled me every time he talked in British accent. And somehow in a split second, it makes me wanted to go and marry him.
The tension between Ron and Hermione was wow. As well as Hermione and Harry and Ron. Just in a slight difference section.
For a while, or maybe way longer than a while, I really wish Harry Potter's world does exist.

ps: my mind was too occupied with lots of thoughts. so I wrote in points instead of paragraphs.

I'll Run

2010-11-19T20:37:00.003+07:00

If I was somewhere outside the room and the sky as the roof, I like to run as fastest as I could and hoping the wind would wash away the thoughts that started to burn inside my mind. But in different case, I always run to this blog if I got something, the tiniest bit droplets of thought that may cause a wild fire, metaphorically. Nowadays things were getting more reliable to ruin my mood. Even though sometimes I barely got any mood. If you know what I was saying. I may run to the swimming pool when I feel like I was on the edge of crying. Cause you couldn't get anywhere similar like the pool. When the water pressure pressed against your face, your eyes couldn't see right and you were trying to hold your body under the water just for a little while when things feels light and all silent, before mentally ready to hit the surface back again. It feels good. Not even the bath tub could give me this full scale satisfaction.

Have you ever think about how weird at the time like this, on the age where someone barely accept their driving license, we teenagers are pushed to make a decision. On the age where someone gets very vulnerable and in between. On the age where we just want to have fun. While the only thing that we should worry was about getting the permission to be back at home after midnight.

It's just as stupid as I wish the alarm to ring few minutes later than the exact hour that I set earlier.

Things seem running in a slightly slower motion posing like they were chaffing me with their little play. I just got remembered that I almost touch down the age of eighteen. Is it me or my mind set telling me as I grew older day by day I learned more things, in the same time I have to deal with it more, I have to understand it more, and I have to spare some of my memory to keep those lesson that I get perfectly in order. Which pushed me to come up with dozens of theories, unspeakable-cost-memory kind of theories. Sometimes it bugged me.

Things also looks like they ask for more attention.

You must know what I mean.

I still don't feel well.

Every time I see this picture, I would like to have it inked on my back. Seriously.

Truth Never Set Me Free

2010-11-17T17:33:00.003+07:00

I've got to admit that sometimes I asked unnecessary questions. And sometimes I got confused whether the conclusion of uncertain things were truly stated or it was just the trick of my mind connecting the dots?

There it leads to another question, by asking lots of question does that makes me critical or over think?

I wasn't on my best shape since my nose got a bit runny and my thoughts a bit sticky. Bed was my best friend for these past two days, I wasn't that all weak and ill but bed just seemed more attractive and calming for my kind of situation.

A pack of tissues was ready beside my pillow just in case I had an emergency sneeze.

The hours I spent off this bed were only for eating or writing a blog.

Life just as simple as turning the lights on when the sky gets dark.

I wish days could have been spend like this without runny nose and the guilty feeling for abandoning responsibility inside my bag and on my desk. They haunt me like a mad man.

Although I always find the best way to procrastinate or avoid it for a little while.

Murmured might not help anything, but it sure lessen the anger.

It Shows On Your Fingertips

2010-11-15T21:10:00.005+07:00

It wasn't about sweet talks and possibilities between him and her. It was about the undeniable tension that she could feel when he was around. All painless light yet conflicting irregular heart beat in every second that passed, slowly, gradually shaping her foolish attitude.

Moment where she caught his eyes staring at her which caused her body fell right away, denying gravity that occurs. Excitement she should hide under her eye bag, hardly maintained.

Everything went a little too messy here and there but it felt flawlessly right.

She miss him that much she could feel it along her vein, travels through her body. It was all about what she could not get through indirect distance that separates them in person, hand and mind. She stood by her tip toe, looking way outside her window. To the innocent floor where she once found him, four hours after midnight. It was about what was there.

Hours that she wished could be repeated million times, as much as it has played back inside her head. It was about everything from the morning sun till the songs on the radio that reminds her to one posture of a liar. A liar that kept all of her faith more than anyone else.

You know, most of the things that could go wrong will always be saved by a statement of prejudice.

If I Say I Don't Have Stories, Would You Believe Me?

2010-11-13T16:25:00.003+07:00

I always more attracted to November because there was one potential day I own the excuse to ask to be treated like a queen. On the same day that has the most potential of me, getting disappointed due to the highly expectation.

I've read lots of common phrases on the internet about growing up, and the worst part was most of it were true.

About losing the faith on fairytale every morning we, soon-to-be-grown-up, wakes up.

I just couldn't ignore the existence of reality that keeps haunting me both in good and bad way.

This what happened to most kids, when I was a toddler where my activities were only school, take a nap, eat, tv, and sleep, I've always curious about being grown up. In that way I wished my birthday will come very soon, and my parents will throw a party, we'll blow candles along with my friends. At that time I didn't think about the responsibility I gained each time when the number of my candles gradually increase. Responsibility by the common demand when social judge or responsibility that automatically charged on me, or us who are on our way to be grown ups.

I would like to stay eighteenth if I could.

My mind begin to wandered off to Forks, Washington DC. I starting to considered the existence of vampires that could turned me immortal. Just forever 18. Not immortal in the definition that you couldn't die. You must know what I mean.

I still look forward to my birthday, just not as much as I did five years ago.

Every Waves Drags Me to Sea

2010-11-11T19:44:00.005+07:00

The coincidence on stumbling upon people that giving priceless objects of all time, ideas, has spoiled me a lot this week. Directly or indirectly, I've met quite a few people that inspires me in any kind of form. Mostly were series of acts that frozen my words and clouding my thoughts. It all started out simple, simpler than any prologue you may have seen before.

A speech, trains of sentence brought in astonishing gesture, blew me away. Its hard to see a flaw on a speech delivered by one of the most charming man on the universe. Or maybe just because it was clearly flawless. My heart moved several inches.

A movie, based on true story got my jaw fell opened. My heart moved few inches more. Although it wasn't an Oscar material, the most important thing was the story. And the story made a world history. And billions of people in this world owe this guy a massive thank you for making life easier (not always) to connect with people in no boundaries.

A spontaneous thought, oddly entertaining enough. A friend of mine came up with drop dead random idea to go to the beach an hour before midnight. Stupid yet very thoughtful. He wasn't the first person that I knew who usually stirred up with those kind of idea but recently I've lost one and haven't got the chance to feel the familiarity that lies on every heart beat of escaping normality. It puts be back on track writing few pages more on my project, letting go my writer's block situation for a while.

Here You Go, Mark.

2010-11-07T20:51:00.004+07:00

I dedicated this entry for Mark Zuckenberg. I, as one of the billion users of facebook, owe him a massive thank you for everything.

He went through a lot to reached now. Something that worth appreciation.

Harvard kids sure know how to make money

This site is too good to be true.

551

2010-11-07T00:20:00.003+07:00

Things got pretty scary when the lights were shut but yet it was so peaceful your mind could talk and mused. As well the scent of the perfume that keeps following me even to bed. I have to get up early tomorrow, quite early to spare me raccoon eyes since I haven't sleep this late. But I always reminded to a decent post on tumblr, which says
"We're never going to be as young as we are tonight"

why bother thinking about tomorrow then? I learned to live the moment. I've been too busy seeing beyond reasonable thoughts and forget the real meaning of a well-known phrase, ignorance is bliss.

Tonight I went to the beach. Spontaneously. It wasn't all romantic shit, we, as in me and two other friends, were just escaping the basis. Without a plan. It was a raw idea that passed in mind, and voila, we ended up on the beach.

I never thought beach would looked loud at night, although I didn't have time to look up to the sky which I assume it was starless, the sand was too rough it massage my bare feet. The essence of peculiar touch soothes me very well. And as soon I stepped on the shore, the sand started to feel cold. By the meaning of cold, it was truly cold.

The short hours really emphasize the art of escape. Too sudden I could barely refuse. I always enjoyed late night drive.

You know... been a while.

Hey November. I've Missed You.

2010-11-05T13:54:00.004+07:00

My left arm was patiencely being my personal drawing book for these past two days. The remaining black ink from the pen I used still linger, even so I've rubbed with soap a couple times. Name and random phrases that passed my mind. That simple. I couldn't let a second away from the grip for looking a paper, as soon I held the pen.
This week went fast alright. Alright for books intensity, you know. I found new places for quick silence during the day. I slept in order by night. No more midnight eye hunger. The only thing I hardly get this week was my productivity on writing. This blog for example. Don't get me wrong, I've been wandering around this page since yesterday but as soon I clicked, I couldn't get things right to write. I kept thinking that, IF I wrote anything about my day, nobody would give a fcuk. Becase that's just how human do it. Very basic, impulsive, selfish human. There may few people really do care about the stories we've told by their ears, but most of them were not. I could feel it through the eyes.
Eyes could tell everything. The unseen. The untold. Secrets. Even things that you thought never existed.
Believe me, I've just seen it. Someone just reminds me how to look by the eyes.
And uh, It's November, everybody. November.

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

2010-10-28T18:34:00.005+07:00

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.

Gimme Back The Sun

2010-10-24T15:30:00.003+07:00

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.

I wish. I wish. I wish

2010-10-17T10:46:00.005+07:00

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.

Give San Fransisco a Hello

2010-10-12T18:10:00.003+07:00

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.