Archive for 2011

Of 2011

Wednesday, December 28, 2011 Comments Off

I suppose it is time to be grateful. 2011 is one of the year that's very influential for me, for my future. Not only for my present being, but for the unseen future. I suppose, by knowing some circumstances and truths, this year is the most challenging, not only physically but mentally too. This year revealed things about me that I did not even know before, call it cheating, or denying I guess, but I did not know about it before it presented itself in front of me. I looked at the past so many times this year, rewinding the moments of the lost past, finally putting on some missing jigsaw puzzles of the hard recollection of the past. Still incomplete, but finally this whole mess is gradually sorted, but it is still not clear when this disorder will be resolved. After all, Частини були колись цілого. Nevertheless, I shall thank God for unveiling those mysteries to me. Until next time.

Shadowed Figure

Friday, December 23, 2011 Comments Off

I guess everything seems surreal. How the ghosts of my past who were nudging me in my head and blackened my heart. How the ghosts in my head swam their ways to my heart. How there was a demon inside of me, lurking about, trying to take over my head, metaphorically.
Everything feels like nothing. Nothing worths anymore. Nothing feels important to me anymore. Everyday I feel just like a train station waiting for a train, but the train keeps passing and passing. Everyday goes by with a single same structure, I got up, survived, and go back to bed. Each day seems as worthless as the day before and the day after.
In a way, the reason everyday seems worthless is because the things I chase are in the form of material. Perhaps, I am chasing after something that's irrational. I chase after feelings, not tangible things. Feelings are hard to gain, you know? They are precious, precious things. Not buyable. I yearn for things that intangibles. I want things that differ us from androids, I want something that makes us humans. Feelings.
Depression is something human, but to think it over... depression's symptoms are mostly feeling numb or nothing at all, but how can you feel something when you are numb? Pain, sadness, depression and grief are all the things that I feel. I want someone to care about me. I want someone to give me feelings much greater than those negative emotions, I want someone who can ease those away.
I am not saying I cannot survive alone, because I am my own solid ground, but... sometimes I feel like I am tired and enough of bearing the demons alone, sometimes I wish I have a solid ground that isn't myself.
There's this title of a song from the band that I really like, it's called "What Do You Go Home To?", I've asked myself thousands of the same question. What do I go home to? My parents? My brother? Sometimes, perhaps, yeah, but no. I don't have a real reason, a place of where I belong to. A place where I can soothe all of my worries. A home. Yes, my house provides the home-feeling, but no, sometimes this house still bares nightmares and unimaginable frightening thoughts. There's nothing wrong with this house, I know, but there's something in this house, and also the other place I currently occupy, that makes me just want to break down. Want to fall apart, to completely broken down into shattered tiny million pieces.
I feel like a very fragile window glass, it keeps everything inside and on the outside you can see everything is normal, but you don't know what's going on inside, you don't know if there is a series of broken furnitures, torn books, shattered lamps, you don't know the state inside; the window is so fragile, yet so strong, perhaps it's fragile because nobody ever tried to knock the window, to peeked what's inside. It's kind of selfish, I know, for wanting to be noticed. For wanting to have someone to have feelings for you.

I tried to kill what's inside. I tried. So hard. The demons in my head keep playing with me. Sometimes I can't bear it all. I'm so tired. Please, can I have my solid ground now?



Thursday, December 22, 2011 Comments Off

"Have you ever fell in love?" the first person asked with such curiosity.
"Of course I've had! I am in love right now. How about you?" the second person answered.
"Yeah. Once." said the first person. This person's eyes gazed longingly at the darkened sky.
The second person looked at where the first person gazed. "With who?"
The first person did not answer immediately, instead, this person looked at the building in front, pretending to read something and then looked up, staring at the second person's face with sadness. "You."

3 -- 4
A three years old girl with black curly hair, button nose and big blue doe eyes stared at him with wonders. He stared back at her with the same wonders. Her plump cheeks were covered in chocolate fondue. He stuck a tiny finger out and reached for the fondue while licking his lips in anticipation. The boy, who was older by a mere ten months, put his chocolate-covered finger into his mouth and devoured it delicately.
"I love chocolate." he said with a grin.
The doe-eyed girl stared at him curiously, her lips were pursed and then it broke into a smile. "I wuf 'o'olat tow"
If was his first time talking to her. It was his first time talking ever.

10 -- 11
The black-curly hair girl was now ten years old and she was attending a school, a year behind him. She made friends, but none as special as him. He was her first friend, her first best friend. She could talk to him about everything and nothing. He was a living and walking diary for her, and she for him. It was funny, as it turned out, how he was the taciturn kind of boy, but he always gave out the best of advices and he never let her down. His advices were always comforting, like today.
"What should I weeeeaaaar?" she shouted from her closet.
He could only shook his head while doing his homework. "You are only going to a party, not to the President's daughter's wedding. Just… wear one of your dresses."
She stuck her head out from her closet. "But it's Liana's Birthday Party! I can't wear my usual dresses!"
He shook his head again. "Here, let me find something for you."
He went inside her closet, which was small even for a pair of children, and searched for a particular dress. The dress was unlike her other princess-y dresses, it was a summer dress, with a heart-like hole on her back. It was yellow and paisley-patterned. The skirt was in a-line, not that both of the children knew about it, but it made her look pretty. It was a pretty dress and she looked pretty in it, he thought.
When he finally found the dress, he took it out of one of the drawers and then put it in her hand. "Now," he said, "My job is finished, let me get back to my homework, I know you need my help on yours after you try it on. And yes, you'll look dashing in it."
She smiled and let him out of the closet. She shut the door of the closet and changed into her summer dress. She got out and watched herself twirling the dress on the mirror.
"See, it suits you." he said without looking up from her homework.
"I know! Thank you!" she hurried hug him on the neck, causing a small smile and a slight blush on his face. She immediately pulled back and started to hum to the closet to change her clothes.

16 -- 17
"You're lucky you don't have Chemistry with Roberts this year." he said while studying her timetable closely.
She stopped writing on her note and studied his face. "Why?"
"He can't fucking teach Chemistry. He's as lazy as fuck. And as dumb as a desk." he said.
She giggled delicately. "Thank God."
He sat back on her white sofa, she followed him and leaned her head on his shoulder. "Penny for your thoughts?" he asked.
She laughed. "Since when did you care about my thoughts?"
She made an attempt to playfully slap him but did not succeed, he caught her wrist and laced their fingers. She immediately stilled and stared at him with the same wonders like she was three.
"I've known you all my life, I know you." he answered but did not meet her eyes.
Her shocked look turned into somewhat warmth gaze, her eyes softened and she played with his fingers on her hand. "Nah, nothing bothers me. I got you, don't I?"
"You are lying."
"No, I'm not."
"You are."
"You. Are."
She threw her hands up and put them back on her lap, he did not make an attempt to wrap her fingers again so she smiled. "I am."
"In love."
He turned his head and stared at her. "With who?"
"Not going to tell you." she singsonged.
He burrowed his brows and looked at her threateningly. "Tell me or I'll…"
"You'll what? I'm not scared at you. Besides, I'm sixteen, you'll get in jail not only for killing an underage girl!" she said with a mock smile on her face.
He smiled at her. "I know. I'm just making a scene. So… cup of tea?"
"Yes, please."

He hugged her fiercely. "I GOT ACCEPTED IN PRINCETON!"
He pulled back and stared at her with happiness. "Thanks to you!"
She gave him a mock shock. "Moi? Oh my, imagine all the prize… for helping the smartest boy at school? Wow!"
He smiled lovingly, "No, for helping me overcome my fears, depressions… for everything, thank you!"
She hugged him briefly and let him go. "No problem. You always helped me, back in the days, why shouldn't I return the gestures?"
He nodded and pulled her to his car. "Wait wait, where are you taking me?"
"Just go with me, please?"
"I'm not dressed, Fred!"
"Jane, you always wear the best of clothes at school, you are dressed, now please go out with me."
She blushed fiercely. "Thank you, I know, I'm the prettiest at school! Now go get in the car, you are not the only boy that get to date with me today!"
He growled but smiled deeply and got into the car. With a "woohoo" scream from Jane, they off to a restaurant.

18 -- 19
Fred was snoring loudly at his dorm, his roommate was away with one of his dates and the alarm clock was off that day. It was a hot blazing summer Saturday and Fred decided to sleep some more. The term was over but he was invited to practice football and he got a summer job there, so he did not bother to come back and visit his family.
But a family visited him. Jane was standing outside his dorm on her five-inch pink pumps and a knee-high yellow summer dress with an acceptance letter on her hand. She promptly knocked on his door. She received a slight grunt in response so she barged in like she own the place.
"FRED GET UP!" she yelled, somewhat authoritatively.
"Yes, mother." he said and sat up. He blinked once, twice and erupted a laugh. "Jane!"
"Fred!" she shrieked. "You are not wearing any shirt!"
"Oh please, like you've never seen me naked before? Remember the swimming pool when you are three? The water park when you are four and five, and six I guess. You've seen me in all my absolute glory." he said simply but putting on a shirt nonetheless.
She closed her eyes and peeked, when she knew he was done, she opened her eyes and gave him a wide smile. "Hello, Fred."
He smiled back and pulled her into a giant bear hug. "Hello, Jane. What made you come here and visit your old rusty friend?"
She pulled back from his hug and stood up. "Oh shut up, you are neither old nor rusty."
He smiled. "So?"
"Well... I just missed my friend..." she said while looking at the posters on his room. "And..." her fingers traced the patterns of his wooden desk. "I thought I could visit my future Uni."
"YOU WHAT? YOU GOT ACCEPTED IN HERE? CONGRATULATIONS!" he screamed and came to hugged her, his face on her glorious wavy hair.
"I knew it!" he said to her vanilla-scented hair. "I knew you could make it in here! Welcome to Princeton!"
She hugged him tightly. "Thank you! Told you I could make it without you."
He laughed heartily and pulled back. "Can I treat you a dinner?"
She looped his arm. "Why of course, monsieur!"

20 -- 21
"God, I'm so fucked up! What is this shit?!" she asked, pointing a term on her 3000-paged book.
He looked at it for a few seconds and then continued to write something on his notebook. "Did you miss a lecture?"
"No!!! Why would I? I'm not the one who was up all night partying." she scowled.
He nudged her forcibly. "Don't mock. You are the one who doesn't understand it."
"So? What is it? You are my senior."
He stared at her with focus and seriousness. "I have no idea."
She stared back with a blank expression and then laughed wholeheartedly. "Oh, Fred... let's eat dinner, shall we? My treat."

20 -- 21
"Did you see that? Oh my God, did Tracy Jones just made out, no, no, not made out, engulf his face? Girl, get a room." commented Jane's new best friend.
"Oh my God, I think I know the guy." said another Jane's new best friend. "I think it's..."
"What are you guys talking about?" asked Jane, she was just back from the restroom for reapplying her makeup.
Her two new best friends shut their mouths. "Nothing." they said in unison.
"Now, now, a party like this? Things like nothing will never happen." Jane said.
"No, let's get some punch!" said one of her new best friends.
"I want to see!"
"No, Jane, don't. Let's find another party, okay?"
"No!" insisted Jane and she walked in at Tracy Jones making out, her heart just broke into pieces.
She immediately turned back. "No big deal, let's just go get some punch."
Her eyes were stinging.

20 -- 21
"Dude, I just made out. She's so fucking hot. I think I'm gonna... if you know what I mean." said Fred's friend and smiled naughtily.
"Do you mean you just..." Fred lost it. He punched his friend flat on his face.
"She's mine, you asshole! You fucking piece of shit!" screamed Fred.

21 -- 22
"Hey, Jane. I got some good news." said Fred over the phone.
Jane stopped writing. "What's up?"
"I got accepted in a job at London, I'm moving next week."
"OH MY GOD, THAT'S GREAT!" screamed Jane, the whole library looked at her and she quickly muttered an apology.
"But... as my oldest and only true friend, will you come and you know..."
"Of course! I'll go to the airport. Which and what time?"
"Tell you later. I need to get off the phone. Bye."
"See you!"

22 -- 23
"I'm, uh, currently out, so leave me a message and your number. Ciao!"
"FREDERICK JAMES WILLIAMSON ANSWER THE PHONE THIS INSTANT! YOUR BEST FRIEND AND ONLY FRIEND GOT ACCEPTED TO WORK IN PARIS, ISN'T THAT FABULOUS?! Seriously, I'm living my dream right now! Actually I'm already at my flat in Paris, so, this is my number in Paris. I moved in last week, but I couldn't reach you then. Umm... what else? Oh! Mother got an associate in here, she said that he'll take me on a tour. Isn't my life just... fall the way it is? Hang on, I got to--"
"Congratulations Jane Rebecca Clarke, was it necessary to scream? I knew my girl could nail it!"
"Thank you! Thank you! Come visit me please! I know the train ticket isn't cheap, but please if you got time, come and visit me. Miss you terribly, Fred. Hey, you know what? Your accent is a bit British to my American ears. What have you done to my redheaded best friend?"
"Hahaha, I promise, Jane. Look, I got to go... I have this... errand to run."
"Okay, au revoir!"

28 -- 29


The wedding will be held on June 16th 2011
The Plaza Hotel
13.00 until 20.00

"Are you in love?" asked the first person.
"Have you ever fell in love?" the first person asked with such curiosity.
"Of course I've had! I am in love right now. How about you?" the second person answered.
"Yeah. Once." said the first person. This person's eyes gazed longingly at the darkened sky.
The second person looked at where the first person gazed. "With who?"
The first person did not answer immediately, instead, this person looked at the building in front, pretending to read something and then looked up, staring at the second person's face with sadness. "You."
"Jane, I--"
"Don't, Fred." she said with a sad smile. "I'll live. It's your wedding day, please, enjoy it. For me. Please?"
Before Fred could answer, his new bride walked up to them and asked them with a cheery tone. "Hey, two of my favorite people in the whole world, what are you doing in here?"
Jane gazed at them with a smile on her face. "I just told him... if he ever hurt you, I'll kill him in his sleep."
Tracy laughed. "Well, I'm counting on that."
"Excusez-moi, my dears, I have to go back to my date." said Jane as she walked away.
"What was that all about, Fred?" asked Tracy to his husband, noticing his distressed look.
"Nothing, love, just... an old friend telling another secret of hers." answered Fred with an assuring tone.
"Go and get her, Fred, I won't mind. She looked odd."
Fred kissed the top of his wife's head and off with his feet. He asked the guests the whereabout of Jane, but nobody knew. As he saw her driving on the street, he quickly chased her as fast as possible. He could see her sad look and tears were streaming down her face. He could see Jane was trying to reach the stacks of tissue, she got distracted and then he heard the most excruciating sound ever. The crash of a sport sedan with a truck.

28 -- 29
15th June 1983 - 16th June 2011

"Jane, my feet will want to walk to where you are sleeping but I shall go on living." said Fred as he stared at her tombstone.

Interviewing Freya Part II

Tuesday, December 20, 2011 Comments Off

Interviewer: Can you tell us more about Erica, please?
Freya: (she sighs) Could you please elaborate your question?
Interviewer: For instance, did she feel a void in her heart?
Freya: (she looks up and forms a watery smile) Don't we all?
Interviewer: Yeah, but can you please tell us more? Describe her void, if it is possible?
Freya: (she sighs and looks away from the camera, her eyes stare longingly to the lake) I can, of course, I can describe it, because I bloody (censored) write it, but to put it on words, (she stares at the camera once and then back at the lake outside the window) to put it on words is just plain hard. It's like... (she stares at her manicured nails and looks away to the outdoor beauty) it's like that lake (she points out), you see, from the outside, it looks pretty, yeah? Like nothing ever hurt it, like a timeless flawless beauty that pinpoint on the Earth perpetually. A perpetual peace point. Something ethereal and eternal. A beauty. But... (she looks longingly at the lake that slowly passes by and disappears) you don't know what made that lake, you don't know what made that lake so beautiful, so ethereal, so... exquisite. You don't know what that lake had been through, like earthquakes, thunderstorms... it had been through hell, but you never know, because you see it as what it is now, nobody wants to know what kind of... misery that lake had been through. It's a lot like her. Erica... (she laughs bitterly) she had been in hell but came back alive, she was more badass than Constantine. She was a beauty. A tough one, mind you, not some plastic Barbie-wannabe from Hollywood land. (she stares at the scenery outside the car longingly)
Interviewer: You are saying her struggles not only made her tough but made her beautiful too?
Freya: (she stares at the camera, her eyes hollow, void of any emotions) Can't you see? She was already pretty, but nobody, and I mean, nobody (her eyes aflame) ever said that she was pretty or beautiful. Nobody ever made her feel like she was wanted. Like she was... a worthy person. She was a magnificent beauty, a state of the art.
Interviewer: Nobody ever told her she was pretty? Not even him?
Freya: That's the beauty of it. He tried, once, twice, hell, he always tried, but he never got the guts to do it, you know? He never got the guts to... just... say that she was beautiful, that she was pretty. (she looks at the camera soberly) This is a lesson for you men, if you like a lady, tell her that she is and always will be beautiful. That she is worthy. That she worth the time you spend with her. Or else... (she stops saying)
Interviewer: Or else what?
Freya: It's not for me to tell, it is for you to find out. You should watch the movie. But here's the thing though, even if people say that she was beautiful, if the people who she cared about did not say the same, then it's a lost cause. Besides, "fat, ugly, no good shit magnet" had already been planted in her head. Since she was a kid, nobody... nobody (censored) appreciated her. I mean... when you are a kid, a mere eight years old, you should be appreciated, you know, to built up your confidence and such, but nobody ever did that to her, all they ever told her was how "fat, ugly, no good shit magnet" she was.
Interviewer: How... poignant...
Freya: (nods her head furiously) It is. Very much. I must say, personally, this is the most honest work I've ever done.
Interviewer: How did she survive?
Freya: You should... watch the movie. (she looks at her hands on her lap and then back at the camera) Or read the book. (she looks at her and fidgets with her ACNE blouse)
Interviewer: I had a source who told me that you picked most of Erica's outfits?
Freya: (smiles at the camera genuinely and nodded) Yeah, I did. I almost overdoing it. (she smiles dashingly) I ordered ACNE, Weekday, COS and lots of others, but the others weren't as expensive as those four. (she shows the camera some pictures from her pocket camera)

Interviewer: Could you please describe her fashion sense?
Freya: Although she sometimes didn't want to admit it, (she smiles) she kinda liked the it-fashion trend that was popular in her time. She wore blouses, printed shirts, button-downs. She wore jeans most of the time, but sometimes, if she felt very confident, she wore shorts or nice dresses. There were times when (she sighs and looks thoughtfully at the building outside as the car passes by, she immediately looks back) she wore all black, when she wore sadness on her outfit. She branded that sadness. There's a quote that I like, she said... she said... "Black is the colour that keeps the darkest of secrets. It holds the most thoughtful memories, the most bizarre questions and the most unknown ideas. It holds someone life. It keeps the fractured nightmares. It's the colour of secrets."
(she shows a photo in her pocket camera)
Interviewer: Wow, that's... deep.
Freya: (she gives the interviewer, instead of the camera, a watery smile) That's what I love the most about her. She... (looks up at the ceiling of the car and then back at the camera with a huge confident smile) was such an enigmatic beauty.

Interviewer: Was she into fashion?

Freya: I say... in a way (she smiles genuinely) yeah.

Interviewer: Is there any more phrases that you like?
Freya: (she looks at her fingers, fidgets with her sheer golden blouse and then looks directly at the camera with a sad smile on her lips) "She felt chill on every inch of the surface of her body, it wasn't from the cold, she noted, it was from her utter profound loneliness", it's obviously from the book. I just... the book is perfect. Everything about Erica is.
(she shows a picture on her pocket camera, a picture that is being used as the cover of the book)
Interviewer: Last question, can you tell us if this book is actually a memoir?
Freya: (starts to cry and looks at the scenery outside the moving car) No comment (she sobs)

Interviewing Freya Part I

Sunday, December 18, 2011 Comments Off

Interviewer: Can you te-- look at the camera please!
Freya: Yeah, sorry. (she giggles) Continue please.
Interviewer: Can you tell us about your newest role?
Freya: (stares at the camera blankly, bites her lower plump lip and twirls a lock of brown hair in her finger) It's about a girl. Obviously. (she laughes) It's about a girl who... struggled. She found contentments in the weirdest places, som--
Interviewer: What sort of weird places?
Freya: Well... you know... weird... (she sighs) like songs, not the kind of songs that girls these days usually hear. More of, like, Nujabes, Nomak... Dela and such... not, you know, Lady Gaga, Katy Perry and others... (she smiles) I suppose I shouldn't have told you about the songs, but you know... you can search about them. They are great, those three.
Interviewer: Will do. And the other? The other weird places?
Freya: (bites her lower lip) I don't know... I suppose... the forest? This girl liked to drive to the forest, you know. She liked to get lost in the forest with nothing but her iPod filled with Bon Iver songs and most of Ohbijou records.
She liked to daydream in the most peculiar places, like the religious places and on her father's garage while drinking her mother's homemade lemonade. She obviously wrote, a lot. (she smiles) She was kind of like me, but way... cooler and way tougher.
Interviewer: Why did she struggle?
Freya: (she laughs wholeheartedly, bats her eyelashes and twists a lock of her hair) Don't we all? You see, we all struggle, but her struggles were beautiful ones. The ones that were most memorable. She was a good girl, a great girl. She was a real girl. She handled life by her own, you know. Her parents (she laughs bitterly), her parents didn't recognize her talents, her parents obviously chose her brother over her. She was an outsider who had a lot of friends...
Interviewer: How so?
Freya: (she laughs) As much as she hated paradoxical things, she was living a paradox life. She was an outsider but was friend with the famous. She hated her life, you know the struggles, but she was tough because of that. She hated being lonely, but she couldn't help herself for finding contentment in being alone, because, you know, being alone sometimes can lead to loneliness. She was a living paradox.
Interviewer: You said that she was tough because she struggled, why so?
Freya: There's one favorite quote from a movie that I like, I'm a huge Drew Barrymore fan just so you know, she said in her movie, "What doesn't kill you makes you wanna die.". I guess (she sighs) in a way, this character, Erica, wanted to die, but nothing was strong enough to kill her. I mean, she was (she exhaled sharply), she was a tough one that girl. I've never played a character as strong as her, as... selfless as her. She made people happy and then disappeared from their lives.
Interviewer: Even from him? The leading male character?
Freya: Especially from him. She was, I guess in a way, typical girl. She thought herself as the most (censored) up girl in the whole world. At first, you think she's this ungrateful (censored) that hates her perfect life, but no, because you see the movie started from the beginning, from where it all began. From her childhood.
She was the typical eight years old girl, playing on the park you know, in the gardens, have tons of imaginations, adventurous. That was until people around her, mostly her childhood friends, hated her. Until the end of the movie, nobody, except her childhood friends, knew why they hated her. Her childhood friends were cruel to her, the things they did to her (she shudders) shouldn't be done to and from girls in early ages. That was why she (censored) up. You see, if people told you 'you are ugly' since you were just a kid, you had no option but to agreed, right? Because you think that you are since you were a kid, I mean... that's just (censored) up. Her mind set was 'I'm ugly and nobody will ever loves me'. That was why she... struggled.
Interviewer: So, what you are basically saying is, Erica is a good person?
Freya: Basically, yeah.
Interviewer: Okay... (she nods her head) we'll be back with our interview with Freya Moola on our next episode, keep watching "The Interview".


Saturday, December 17, 2011 Comments Off

She had a small smile dancing across her rosy lips.
A smile of knowing, understanding and, above all, loving. The smile was a façade, hiding her true and only feeling, the kind of feeling that a twentyfive years old woman shouldn't feel, suicidal feeling. 
She knew, it was the only thing that she believed in, that it was her time. Not to die, she supposed, not to turn to the holy one, but to slowly fading away from her current existent to the next kind. To be another person entirely. Much like reincarnation, though she did not believe it wholeheartedly, but not quite, because she faded away from one identity and transformed into another one. She had to kill her current identity. Her time in their lives were done. She should be living another one right now, leaving Tya, her gypsy identity.
Sometimes it got hard, she supposed, because her identity sometimes could turn into her personality, her own self, but nothing mattered anymore. She was done with this life, not quite literally. She was tired of being someone that wasn't herself, but nobody knew the real her, she could make up a personality and call it as her own self. But no, it was time, she thought to herself.

That night, she started to packing up her things. She dyed her hair to her natural black hair, no longer the bleached blond gypsy. While waiting for her hair to dry, she turned on the music and swayed her body and cried. Her already blotted mascara and eyeliner made lucid treks down her cheeks, she kept brushing it away, making smudges across her cheek and near her temples. With her jet-black dyed hair, ruined mascara and black makeups across her face, she looked like a messed up Goth. She held nothing against Goth, after all she had been a Goth once, but she hated the way she looked, so she quickly cleaned her face and changed her attire from long see-through purple gown and knee-length nude dress to a pair of leggings and sweatshirt. She wanted to be comfortable in her own skin then, even if she currently didn't know who she was and what she was.

A soft knock on her door surprised her, she quickly covered her hair with a worn-looking towel and ran to the door. "Just a minute."
"It's me, Mumford."
"Yeah, I know." she gave a hearty laugh and opened the door.
To say that she was surprised to see Mumford wearing a jacket and a pair of jeans was an understatement. She had never seen anyone in the gathering wear anything resembled what he was wearing right now. "What... what are you wearing?"
He smirked. "What are you wearing?'
She smiled. "Answer for an answer, Mumford."
He raised his right hand and softly caressed her cheek. "I thought we are leaving tonight." he said softly.
"I... I..." she began to say. Tears streaming down to her cheek like her unheard voice, her unnoticed sadness.
"I knew it all along, Luce."
He wrapped himself around her, feeling her sobbed even more. "Sssh... I know. I've always known. You are my long lost love. I know. I almost fucking lost it when you said goodbye, when you said the most heartbreaking words I've ever fucking heard."
"What-- did I say?" she whispered.
He cleared his throat and hugged her even tighter, not letting her go, she buried her face even deeper to his chest. "You said... 'My time in your life is done.' That is the most fucked up thing I've ever heard, Luce. Don't ever fucking say that to me anymore. Promise me."
She continued to sob.
He rocked her gently and squeezed her. "Promise. Me."
"I promise."
"Say it."
"I love you."
He smiled. "Again."
"I love you."
"And again."
She giggled. "I love you."
She pulled back to see his face clearer. "I won't ever leave you?"
He smiled. "And I you."

Is It?

Sunday, December 4, 2011 § 0

Is it wrong to feel lonely in the middle of people?

Last night I attended an event with my friends, mostly girls, but there were testosterones attended the event too. The event was stacked with pretty people who wore pretty attires that resembled like those in the 60s and early 70s era, when the flare jeans, colorful button-down shirts, gypsy headbands and uncountable beaded-bracelets were the hippest things you could and should wear. Drawn-flowers and drawn-peace-signs were everywhere. Colourful lightnings, finger foods and hot drinks could be found everywhere.The weather was cold but nothing could prevent the smiles that were spreading like cheap perfumes under hot daylight. I watched people around me throwing their heads, swaying their hips, drawing their endless stock of cigarettes and jumping, at the same time the music never stopped playing.
It was then I felt it.
It was when I was in the middle of people, an unrecognizable song was blasting over the speaker, bright light was all around me and some of my friends were unrecognizable, I felt that I was lonely. My head was dizzy with the realization and revelation that I'm in here all alone. But being alone was nothing if you compare it with being lonely. The loneliness feeling was a full blow and with the cold weather, then I did nothing but plant a wide smile and a pair of eyes that twinkle.
And then it was time to slow dance, it made the loneliness intensified. But the kind of loneliness that intensified was only the one that caused by love, by affection, something that you feel when you don't have someone you share your love with, while the first one, it was profound, utter, inevitable feeling that first found in your gut, that caused that pang of void in your heart and soul, it was there, lying in the dark. It was what I felt. It was what I felt all night. It was something that I wish I could avoid. I have always felt that incurable loneliness feeling in the middle of people in an event. Do you sometimes feel that too?


Monday, November 14, 2011 Comments Off

Conflicting emotions, her feelings were always been conflicting emotions. Trapping, succumbing, each other in an endless of continuity. Her smiles were always been connected to the tears that fell from her twinkling infinite eyes. Her angers were always connected to the feeling of shame in her clouded mind.
There was nothing funny about being sad, nor was there something awful about laughing, but there she was, smiling and crying at the same time.

you know how you can sometimes feel you are somewhere else when are you listening to particular song? That you are swept away to a series of non-stop memories in your head. A part of us, specifically our memories, were taken away and engulfed by the song, but we can only get them back when we listen to that song, it is a momentary solution of course, as the entire memories are buried deep inside our head with only the song that could trigger it to surface.


Friday, November 11, 2011 Comments Off

Save me from myself, my soul is dying.
My battered soul is longing to be healed by the elegant hands of a blessed magnanimous soul.
My restless soul is worn out, the once benevolent is now waiting for the time when it's finally turn into a void, a dull nothingness in the middle of my blood-fueled flesh. Like a prey, my soul is sure that there will come time when a crow-like death does it job, to eat every inch and fiber of my soul slowly, bitterly, greedily, achingly until everything is consumed inside the endless depth of the pit of death's body.
On the inside, where noone else can see touch or hear, my body is trying to adjust its function as a roof, as the pillars of my body, my own dying soul, are gradually taken one by one. The depth of my despair can no longer be counted. My body is trying to keep my body inside, to stay stronger than my mortal body, helping me to survive the after life, but my soul, though it may seem ageless, is older than my physical being and is dying to be dead. As of now, my body is taking over the spiritual and mental problems, it tries to function normally without the help of my helpless soul.

"Hopeless." my body says. "Doing all of this is hopeless, taking care of myself and my soul at the same time is hopeless. I may be dying as well."
My soul only smiles, it knows that sooner or later my flesh know that it is dying too.
"I can no longer bear this." says my soul. "You should find someone to fill the broken part of me or I will cease to exist."
"But where?" asks my body, my brain, specifically. "I can't see anyone with an excess of soul."
My soul smiles again. "It doesn't have to be like that, find someone who has a hole in other places except his heart, because the valley of mine is null."
"In order to find someone that can mend me, you must see his soul, not his physical being. See it with me. Until that person comes, I'll try to survive, but be hurry, I can see death lurking in the dark side of the moon."


Thursday, November 3, 2011 Comments Off

State Of Soul

Tuesday, November 1, 2011 Comments Off

I wish I could tell you how easy my days went by. How the days of my teenage years went by as smooth as Hollywood actresses' hair. How there was no, in any terms available, bumpy or rough road that I passed by. But no, that would count as lying, as the days I went by were rough and tough.


Because the hole in my chest spread even larger everyday, slowly, but surely and there was no way back, as it spread like a malignant disease. I suppose this disease is one of the main problems the modern days have. Modern society, disregards underdeveloped countries, no longer have problems with physical diseases, no longer have problems with poverty, but instead we, as a new generation, developed diseases that no longer in the state of physical problem, but in the state of human mind. We use drugs as a way to escape our problems in our heads, just like human did in hundred years back. Our problems, nowadays, come from our heads, our own state of mind.

Loneliness, bitterness, feeling depressed, anxiety and all similar negative feelings came from, unfortunately, our own minds. We are the one who choose to be sad, the ones who choose to be depressed, we are our own enemy.

In addition to our often pessimistic way of seeing life, there is also what I called the illness of the society, the bitter rumors they spread. The society, who often bears negative view in seeing life, most of the times influence our minds. The society controls our minds. The society decides our decisions. Therefore, the society decides whether or not we are categorized acceptable in their high superiority they called as community. It is hard to accept the truth that the society controls our mind, that we don't have our own voices anymore.

My state of mind is bitter and cold. The state of my heart is devoid of any emotions. It is ugly how a society can turn a person into. How a society can deject a person who tries so hard to be accepted in the said community. That person is not me though, but it can be any of you out there, struggling to be accepted in a society who thinks that it doesn't need you.

There is nothing inside of me. Nothing.
My heart just does not exist.

In seeing other people, I'm an optimist, but in seeing myself, I'm a pessimist.

Zahira Part III

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"You're what?"
She giggled and started to walk. "You have an awful small range of vocab today. Bye."

The next day, she woke up with a yawn and dried tears on her cheeks. She quickly brushed her teeth and washed her face. Breakfast was out of the question that day, she wanted some tea instead.
"I need to get out of this town ASAP." she said to her kitchen's wall.
She had to tell a lie yesterday, she wasn't leaving for Paris, she was leaving for the big city, the Big Apple. Her reason was to mislead him, so that he thought that she was living la vida loca,

There was a knock on her door, she quickly ran to the front door and said, "I'll be moving out this weekend, sir."
She opened her door, it wasn't her landlord, it was him.
"What are you doing here?" she asked rudely.
"You are lying!" he shrieked. "You are leaving for New York!"
"So? I'm leaving all the same."
"I'm leaving, end of story. There's no happiness for me in here and I doubt I'll have it no matter where I live."
"Would you just listen?"
"What? You want to mock me? I'm tired. Okay, there I said it, I'm so fucking tired." she admitted.
"No! You are--" he stopped and kissed her.
She pulled back. "The hell was that?"
"I love you."
 "Beg your sorry ass' pardon?"
"What? Why?"
"Haven't you noticed? Can't you tell?"
"How can I tell when all you've been doing is only teasing me?"
"I've always been there for you!"
"When? Yesterday? That's barely always."
"When they mocked you, I always defended you. Me. I was the guy that help you."
She closed her eyes and gasped. Scenes from her childhood played before her. He was there, he was always there. Sometimes mocking her, but he mocked her to made her better. If she wanted to be true to herself, which she currently was, he also had always been there, in her heart, hovering slightly behind the darkness pit of the void in her head.

She opened her eyes and saw his worried face, she kissed his worry away from his face. "I love you, too." she whispered.
"Don't leave." he pleaded.
"Never." she whispered back.

Zahira Part II

Wednesday, October 26, 2011 Comments Off

She turned her head and gave his childhood friend (more like fiend, she thought) an award-winning smile. "My sister's finally a wife of someone she loves, why shouldn't I be?"
He nodded and sat next to her, "But why are you crying?"
"I'm not!" she exclaimed, but her eyes were stinging, begging to let the tears out.
He turned his head and looked at her right in the eyes, he brushed his thumbs to the corners of her eyes. That moment, tears fell from her eyes. He kept brushing away her tears.
"Don't cry..." he whispered.

She cried even more and instinctively hugged him, buried her head on his chest. He ran his hand to her head and to her half-clothed back, soothing her with the gesture. She cried herself out, tears from her eyes soaked his suit.
"It's okay." he said soothingly.
"It's not okay..." she said back.
"Why?" he asked, his hands were now firmly on her waist.
"I'm not pretty, I'm not anything, I'm not her." she said in between her sobs.
"Who says you are ugly?" he asked.
She laughed bitterly. "Like you don't know."
"No... them."
"Oh... but you are not ugly." he said.
"Noone has ever told me I'm not, it's okay. Don't try to convince me that I am, years of... those things, depending on myself, defending myself, standing on my own... I'm already convinced that I shall never be pretty." she said, pulling back from him. Her make up was still as flawless as it was before, no smudges. Thank God for waterproof mascara!

"How could you even say that? You are pretty. You are beautifull."
She laughed a bitter laugh. "But not as pretty as her, not as beautiful as her, not as mart, as accomplished, or as successful, or even just as nice as her. I know. It's always been like that and I don't think it will change, I'm a nobody, remember? Your friends always say that to me and you know what? I am."
"Are you nuts?"
"Now that's something new." she said with a smile.
"What?" he asked, confused.
"Thought so." she said and stood up.
"What? Where are you going?"
"I'm gonna pack my things, I'm moving out of my flat this weekend. I'm leaving for Paris."


Sunday, October 23, 2011 Comments Off

Since most of my nonexistent readers only know about my pains, here's a trivia about me.

1. Weird things you do when you are alone?
Talk to my imaginary boyfriend. Yes, dear world, I still have an imaginary friend. This nonexistent person serves as a nonexistent daily diary, sort of where I talk to when people that I usually talk to are missing.

2. How have you changed in the past 2 years?
A lot. I'm not saying I changed to become a better person or a much worse person, but I'm saying that I changed. I became an even more complex person who likes complicated things. I had my ups and downs. But mostly, I became a person who is totally grateful for everything, who is completely blessed and protected. I also think that I'm half-independent (is there such thing?)

3. What kind of person attracts you?
They have to understand my quirks and traits and different perspective. They also have to understand my tendency to be alone in the middle of sea of people and my tendency to be weird, sometimes. They also have to understand my moody personality because I like to be happy one minute and the next I can become suicidal. They also have to have stories to tell everyday. I befriend with ladies who are not afraid to speak their minds, who are independent, who are not narcissistic and who don't climb on that social ladders. As for the men, they have to have seriously wide knowledge of every subjects, easy to talk to, real true gentlemen.

4. Your current relationship, if single discuss how single life is.
I'm proud to say that I'm single and content with it. God loves me all too much because God doesn't want me to have series of broken hearts that caused by wrong and failed relationships. God loves me all too much that God wants me to be happy alone and independent. It gets lonely sometimes, I know, but perhaps this loneliness will be totally and completely cured by someone someday. Perhaps God knows I'm not ready to have a serious relationship but God knows that I don't need fatal relationships that only led to heart aches. I also think that God wants me to focus on my study so that I can fulfill my dreams. God loves me all too much. I'm blessed.

5.  10 things about you people don't really expect.
I can annoy people if I want to. I can be a totally fierce bitch, if you cross me so watch out. I like songs that people usually don't listen to. I wanted to be a designer (be it architect, interior designer, etc.). I want to have a boutique someday. And my own apartment. Yes, my curly hair is real/natural. I don't have any fashion personality, I can be a goth one day and then be a cheerleader the next. I still have an imaginary friend. I like to dilly-dally things.

6. 10 ways to win your heart.
Desserts, I love desserts. Make a drawing for me. Take me as I am. Listen to my stories intently and respond. Listen to my ramblings. Read my stories. Try to like my taste of music. And try to not be mad if sometimes I can be a straight moody bitch. Respect me. Understand me.

7. A quote you live by.
"Veuillez veiller sur vos reves" which roughly translated as "Don't let your dreams fall asleep". It is a song actually, by John Banzaï and Les Nubians.

8. A Celebrity you share a birthday with.

That's all for today. Can you tell that I'm positively bored?

Zahira Part I

Monday, October 17, 2011 Comments Off

She shone a smile to everyone. Her eyes twinkled beautifully, hearing people say things around her. She occasionally laughed when they laughed. Sometimes she also commented their gossips and talks, although from time to time she glanced around the room because she didn't know what they were talking or because she just didn't want to participate in the conversations. After her companions and her exchanged goodbyes, she went back to her own apartment. When she was safe within the brick walls of her loft, she broke down into tears. The tears streamed down fast and were hot to her cheeks, she laughed bitterly between sobs.

Tonight was the bachelorette party for her dear older sister and she was the pointed host. She decided the party was themed as scavenger's hunt because they went to one club to another, dancing until their feet hurt. The last place they visited las night was a 24-hours coffee shop and they talked their hearts out while sobering up with some coffee.

It all started with her sister's best friend spotted one of her childhood crush in the coffee shop and they all went frenzy. They talked about their childhood crushes but focused on her sister's love life, like ow fortunate and lucky her sister was for having a guy she always wanted to be with and how great her sister's love life was. She smiled to all of her sister's friends, looking somewhat knowingly and understandingly, when deep down inside her soul she felt sour throbbing ache.

She never had a boyfriend. She was in her early twenties and she never had one while her sister had her first and only boyfriend already had one when she was eight. She had never tasted any love, while her sister always had. She felt sick. She felt unloved.

After she gave away bitter laughs, she cleaned herself up, drank some water and dragged herself to bed.

She woke up after lunch with a bit headache here and there. She straightened herself up and went to the bathroom. When she finished dressing up, she went to her sofa in the living room. She stared at her furnitures and started to think about all of her sister's friends' comments last night.
"Your sister was the Prom Queen, the Homecoming Queen, and lots of other."
"He truly is her soulmate, she wanted him, he wanted her, she loves him, he loves her and now they are marrying each other."
"Hey! Don't talk like I'm not here, but it's true, he's my soulmate."
"Of course you both are soulmate, you finally be with each other legally. I mean... you've been with each other since when? Thirteen? What you both have is far more than love and magic."

She bit her lip. Her head was killing her, not because of physical pain, but her own mind. Her own mind was making her numb, she hated it. She cried again and wanted to scream her lungs out. Everything hurt her then. She wanted to cease to exist. She was by no means ugly, her cousins assured her that, but noone had ever called her pretty either. She was not the smartest girl of the school either, let alone her own age. She felt like she had no personal noticeable trademarks. She was normal noone, she could blend unnoticeable in the middle of the sea of people. Sometimes she used it as advantages, often she didn't think about it, but on occasions, especially right now, she felt like it was the most fucked up thing in the world.

Her sobs began to decrease. Her eyes gained clearer sight. Her throat was sore and there was a sickening feeling inside her nose. She sighed and went to the bathroom to splash some water on her face. She stared at her reflection on the bathroom mirror.
"My only true friend is my own reflection." she whispered.

The next day at her sister's reception, she sat at one of the chairs, watching people happily dancing with each other.
"Are you happy?" came a voice behind her.

Sweet Sweet Slumber

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Specks of light made their ways from the closed curtain, the light felt warm. I sighed while peeking from behind my covers, it was the sun. The light blended beautifully with the colour of my room, beige walls and dark brown furnitures. I sighed again and stretched my body. As I was gaining clearer sight, I noticed that the light was not yellow, it was orange. Was it really the sun? I peeked again to confirm the light really was from the sun. It was. This only meant... it was already afternoon. My eyes reflexively searched for the clock on my wall, it was already five p.m. Was I so tired that I overslept?

No, I said to myself while shaking my head. I was not tired. I was unhappy. I was lonely. I was unhappy, lonely and bitter. I did not care one bit about anything currently. Problems were weighting me, pushing me down to the point of oblivion, making me know nothing but sweet sweet slumber. I was lonely.

Blurry Figure

Thursday, October 13, 2011 Comments Off

You are always there, around, lurking in the shadow as a blurry figure.
You always been there actually.
People say you are mysterious and weird,
People say you are never here, but in actuality,
you are always here.
They really don't know how much effort you've always put in your life.


Monday, September 26, 2011 Comments Off

No wonder you needed the hug. No wonder you always give me hugs every time we meet. No wonder.
You want to break it all down, don't you? You want to tell us everything, every single thing. I wonder if you come to me because you know I've been holding up those pain to like you, because you know I'm strong enough, like you.

You are too tough for your own good, you know?

Some said your soul is hollow, that your soul ache. I understand, trust me I do. Maybe my heart does not ache as much as yours, but I know how it feels like. How your heart aches for something that you want but you can't have. How your heart throbs when come in contact with sadness and grief. A sour feeling.

I know it aches. I know for the past ten years you've been yearning for love. I know you've been wanting to share that nothingness to someone. I know you want to hold on tight to someone who is brave enough and strong enough to bear all of those darkness.

You had been consumed by the darkness. You are the darkness now...

You are empty. Hollow. There is nothing inside you. What you are outside is a shell of something that was once inside. All of the overbearing pain consumed your soul slowly. Each time you got mentally hurt, pieces of your soul got taken away as you try to bear the pain. I know you tried to fight the darkness, I know you tried your best, but I know your best wasn't good enough, so the darkness won. The darkness took away your soul.

But thank God the remembrance of your soul is still there. The remembrance of something that once was is still there. The shell is as nice as you, or perhaps the you that I once knew when I was little. After all, the shell is a part of you. But I know... there is nothing inside that shell.

I know even if you finally release all of those pain to someone, someone who is strong enough, the person you once were is still not there. I really hope you can ease those pain away by telling it to me, some of them, reasons why the darkness love you so much, reasons why the light refused to help you. Just so you know, I understand. Whatever it is, I understand. I understand why you choose to close yourself up, instead of barring yourself to anyone, it's because you thought that nobody would understand, isn't it? It's also because you think no one would care, right? And it's because you think it's easier that way, isn't it? But I understand, I care and I know it's not easy.

You turned to false Gods, you still do. You worship them because you think they can take the hollowness away, but can't you see it's only a temporary solution? Can't you see that your false Gods only gave you more pain and sadness? Can't you see that your false Gods are actually demons?

If only I was old enough. If only I was of your age. If only we were close enough. If only I was tough enough. But I wasn't tough enough back then. I was just like you, only younger and less consumed by the darkness. We mirror each other, but I have solider ground while your ground was quicksand, swallowing you, instead of a solid ground. The help you are getting isn't from the people who want to pull you out, instead of the one who is slowly pushing you in, dragging you deeper to the land beneath.  It isn't a rope you are seeing, but it's a stair to down below.

I want to pull you out, but I'm afraid you're too far away to hear me and you are too stubborn to let go. All I can do is only pray you don't go deeper. I know there is someone out there that can pull you out, that can bring you back to stand above the ground. I believe one day you will find that person. If you find that person, hold on tight. Don't let the person go. Because that person is the one who is strong enough to break all of the walls of the shell, that person is lively enough to fill those spaces with their own happiness, that person is kind enough to pull you to the ground. Embrace that person.

But until that person comes, please hold on strong and remember: you are still living and breathing right now because are the only person in this world that is strong enough to bear all of those pain.

Aku Juga

Thursday, September 22, 2011 Comments Off

"Aku ingin cinta yang mencintaiku apa adanya, aku ingin cinta yang mencintaiku dan aku pun mencintai dia, aku ingin cinta yang sejak detik pertama tahu bahwa akulah senyum pertama yang akan ia lihat setiap pagi. Aku ingin cinta yang merasa bahwa aku adalah dia, dia adalah aku. Aku ingin cinta yang membuatku merasa aku tak ada tanpa ada dia bersamaku. Aku ingin cinta yang membawa pergi semua keraguanku, ketakutanku. Aku ingin cinta yang menghapus kesepian ini dan akhirnya mengajariku senyum paling bahagia yang akan kuberikan untuknya setiap hari. Aku ingin cinta yang membuatku terus bersinar." -- I Ordered My Wife From The Universe

Aren't We All?

Sunday, September 18, 2011 Comments Off

Why do I feel so lonely?

The Hardest Of Hearts

Monday, September 12, 2011 Comments Off

"If you ever tell a girl that she's lovely, beautiful, or pretty, she'll remember it for five minutes, but if you ever ever tell a girl that she's ugly, she'll remember it for the rest of her life and hold on to that statement."

How to tell if a girl is troubled? Look at her in the eyes, don't say anything and her walls would eventually fall and give you the truth about everything she is currently hiding, but if the walls wouldn't break down and she looked away, tell her you love her, will always be there for her and mean every words you just said. Tell her that, despite everything she's going through right now, you will always be there for her and care about her. Tell her to hold on strong. Tell her that her smile, her genuine smile, is one of the most beautiful things in the world. Tell her that she is one of the most beautiful women in the whole world. Tell her that, even though you don't know what she's going through right now, you will always support her, no matter how many mistakes she had made, no matter how many wrong choices she had chose, you will always support her. Tell her that she is one of the greatest people you've met. Tell her that, perhaps not to you but to someone, she means the world. Maybe she won't hear you, maybe she would deny everything, but convince her, convince her that she's worth it, that someone cares about her, that you care about her.

Tell her those things or you'll lose her, perhaps you won't see it, perhaps you feel like she's fine, like she's not troubled, but beyond her veils, her innocent-looking smiles, her laughs, her action, she hides everything, her pain, her vain, her sadness and most of all, that throbbing aching feeling on her chest. She could slip away from you, she could easily walk away from people's life. One day she's there and the next she's gone. Assure her that she belongs there, that everything she needs is right there and that she should stay there. Convince her. Make her stay there. Smile at her. Make her feel that she is worth it. Appreciate her.

Even though in the end you don't know what her problem is, but at least someone appreciates her, at least she's not alone. Maybe it's not her idea of happiness, but at least she feels content and she is convinced that someone thinks she is pretty, that at least there's one person appreciates of her being.

I write this to everyone. Don't let someone slips away. Hold them. Appreciate them. Their troubles don't worth of the pills they are taking. Their problems don't worth the skin they are cutting. They worth more. They worth more because they are the ones who are strong enough to bear the aching numbness in their chest. They deserve to live.

To all the people who lost their loved ones because of the mind troubles, to all the people who are currently bearing the craziness, hold on strong. I am one of them. My head is also killing me and I also feel like I'm a worthless piece of shit. Trust me, I know how it feels like. So please, before they make a jump, especially a literal one, tell them. Convince them. Assure them. Appreciate them. Because there's nothing hurt you in the head more than feeling like you are all alone.

Dearest Elaine,

Wednesday, August 24, 2011 Comments Off

Do you remember when we went to England?
When we basked ourselves under the sunlight in the middle of breezy London afternoon?
When we ate fish and chips together on our way to Manchester?
When you insisted to meet the Queen?
When you almost drained all of our savings in every shops?
When we kissed under London Eye?
When we missed our train to Paris?
When you got fascinated by numerous of books in The British Library?
When I kissed your pout after you got soaked because of the unexpected rain?
When you squealed after I bought you a necklace that you wanted?
When I screamed 'I love you' and you screamed back?
Do you remember when we went to England for our honeymoon?

Happy 20th Anniversary,

Interesting Conversations.

Monday, August 22, 2011 Comments Off

I am officially a uni student as of last thursday. I've attended three classes for the past seventy two hours and frankly, uni isn't what I thought it would be. As opposed to giant classrooms with giant blackboards, my uni got medium-sized classrooms with whiteboards and projectors. And I still haven't got the "This is my campus" feeling, like I belong there, to any kind of community available. Perhaps it's too early to draw any assumptions, perhaps it's too early to guess, because after all... I've only been there for almost two weeks.
Anyhow, I found out that all of my lecturers that I've met have the same mind like mine, if not far greater. Thoughts that I've been thinking for a long time are gradually being sorted out by their great minds.

Here are some of the interesting lines:
"Tujuan semua ilmu pengetahuan? Untuk mencari dan menemukan kebenaran."
"Kalau kebenaran menyimpang akan terjadi kehancuran."
"Ilmu harus dipakai untuk kesejahteraan ras manusia."
"Kebenaran datang dari sejarah."
"Bisa tidak sama dengan boleh."
"Hidup ini banyak tawaran bukan pilihan."
"Kata sama, tetapi presepsi dan interpretasi setiap orang berbeda."
"Pikiran beda tetapi pemahaman sama."
"Waktu itu milik Tuhan."
"Kita secara ngga sadar sebenernya dandan untuk orang lain, untuk dilihat oleh orang lain."
"Kelakuan anda dilihat dari struktur sosial."
"Pendidikan Indonesia menyeragamkan pikiran semua orang, jadi ngga ada yang nyeleneh."

I especially agree to the one about Indonesia's education type as I've been agreeing to other negative comments about our education. It's not like I hate my education or dislike it with all my heart, but I feel like most of the subjects that we study of aren't quite necessary, we should study about things that we like personally, and we shouldn't be misled by any other unimportant studies in respect to our choice of subject in college/university. We shouldn't study about things that don't have any good in our future except to fulfill the thirst of our own knowledge. We should broaden our knowledge, not putting them in blocks of the same contents and feeding them to people. Our education curriculum is the opposite of what they have in the developed countries, they study specific things with a great depth, while we study many things but only small parts of them.

Recommendation #1

Saturday, August 20, 2011 Comments Off

Pablo Neruda
His works is one of the greatest works I've ever read. Mostly poetries, but they are hauntingly beautiful.

"Don't go far off, not even for a day,
because I don't know how to say it - a day is long
and I will be waiting for you, as in
an empty station when the trains are
parked off somewhere else, asleep.

Don't leave me, even for an hour, because then
the little drops of anguish will all run together,
the smoke that roams looking for a home will drift
into me, choking my lost heart.

Oh, may your silhouette never dissolve
on the beach, may your eyelids never flutter
into the empty distance. Don't LEAVE me for
a second, my dearest, because in that moment you'll
have gone so far I'll wander mazily
over all the earth, asking, will you
come back? Will you leave me here, dying?"

"and that's why i have to go back
to so many places
there to find myself
and constantly examine myself
with no witness but the moon
and then whistle with joy,
ambling over rocks and clods of earth,
with no task but to live,
with no family but the road."


Because of you, in gardens of blossoming
Flowers I ache from the perfumes of spring.
I have forgotten your face, I no longer
Remember your hands; how did your lips
Feel on mine?

Because of you, I love the white statues
Drowsing in the parks, the white statues that
Have neither voice nor sight.

I have forgotten your voice, your happy voice;
I have forgotten your eyes.

Like a flower to its perfume, I am bound to
My vague memory of you. I live with pain
That is like a wound; if you touch me, you will
Make to me an irreperable harm.

Your caresses enfold me, like climbing
Vines on melancholy walls.

I have forgotten your love, yet I seem to
Glimpse you in every window.

Because of you, the heady perfumes of
Summer pain me; because of you, I again
Seek out the signs that precipitate desires:
Shooting stars, falling objects."

"I got lost in the night, without the light
of your eyelids, and when the night surrounded me
I was born again: I was the owner of my own darkness."

"so I wait for you like a lonely house
till you will see me again and live in me.
Till then my windows ache."

"But I love your feet
only because they walked
upon the earth and upon
the wind and upon the waters,
until they found me."

"my feet will want to walk to where you are sleeping
I shall go on living."

"Sonnet XVII

I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.
I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way than this:

where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep. "

Sebuah Pengakuan

Friday, August 19, 2011 Comments Off

Dia menutup matanya, kemudian membuka kedua matanya. Menutup lagi. Membuka lagi. Menutup. Membuka.
"Ada apa, Sar?" tanyaku, menatapnya dengan penasaran.
Sarah tertawa. Tertawa dengan nikmat dan renyah. Tawanya menggema bukit-bukit. "Nggak ada apa-apa, Ray. Aku bosan." katanya.
Aku hanya mengangguk. "Kita bisa pergi kok kalo lo mau."
Dia menggelengkan kepalanya. "Ga usah, Ray."
Aku terdiam. Tidak mengerti kenapa dia memilih untuk diam disini kalau dia tau dia bosen. "Pindah aja yuk." ajakku.
"Ngga usah ah, enak disini. Adem." sebutnya. Kedua tangannya bergerak-gerak secara acak diatas udara.
Aku menyeringai. "Yaudah, kalo emang itu mau lo. Kedinginan gak?"
"Ngga kok." jawabnya.
Aku mengangguk. "Yaudah kalo lo kedinginan, bilang ya."
Dia mengangguk lucu.

Kami menatap pemandangan dalam diam. Pikiranku kemana-mana, tetapi berporos pada satu tema, pada satu sumber. Pikiranku melanglang buana seperti meteor-meteor yang bertubrukan dengan satu sama lain dari arah yang berbeda meskipun ujung-ujungnya menuju ke tempat yang sama. Pikiranku seperti aliran air di sungai-sungai, berasal dari mata air yang berbeda, tetapi menuju ke tempat yang sama, ke lautan biru lepas. Pikiranku selalu berujung-ujung ke dia. Sarah.
"Kenapa, Rayhan? Kok diem? Lagi mikirin apa?" katanya mengagetkanku.
"Ngga, ngga apa-apa. Lo kedinginan gak?" tanyaku dengan nada yang sedikit memaksa.
Dia tersenyum dan mengangguk. Aku melepaskan jaketku dan memberikan jaketku kepadanya. "Nih, pake aja."
"Makasih. Eh tapi kamu kedinginan gak? Ntar aku make eh kamu yang kedinginan, kan gak lucu." katanya.
Aku mengangguk. "Gak kok, pake aja. Gue kan udah biasa dingin."
Dia menjulurkan lidah. "Sok banget sih kamu. Mentang-mentang sempet tinggal di Aussie."
Aku tertawa ringan. "Nggak, bukan itu maksud gue, cuma kan emang gue sering tinggal di tempat dingin."
"Ih emangnya aku ngga? Aku kan sempet tinggal di Bogor, Rey."
"But that's besides the point, chikadee." kataku.
Dia cemberut. Lucu. "Ih. Rese."
Aku kembali tertawa. "Lo tuh yang rese, masa make jaket aja nggak mau, kalo lo sakit gimana?"
Dia terdiam. "Oh iya."
Aku semakin tertawa. Ketika aku sudah berhenti tertawa, aku tarik dia kepelukanku. "Gimana? Anget?"
Dia tersenyum malu dan mengangguk. Semakin lama aku peluk, semakin ia membenamkan badannya kepelukanku.
"Mau kemana abis ini, Sar?" tanyaku.
"Hmm... makan yuk? Kamu belom makan dari siang ya, Rey?" tanyanya.
"Mau makan dimana?"
Dia terdiam sejenak kemudian berkata, "Di rumah kamu aja yuk, Tante Risti ngga akan marah kan kalo aku nge-grecokin dapurnya?"
Aku tertawa, setelah bertahun-tahun mengenal keluargaku seperti keluarganya sendiri, ia masih malu-malu berada di keluargaku? Lucu. "Nggalah, lagian ngga usah masak juga lo udah ngeberantakin rumah gue."
"Ih jahat!" katanya sambil memukul tanganku dengan ringan.
Aku tertawa kembali. "Abis lo kalo ke rumah gue kayaknya segala macem dikeluarin, kayak anak TK aja."
"Ih tapi kan barang-barang di rumah lo emang seru, Ray." sangkalnya.
Aku tertawa. Lagi. Gampang banget dia membuatku tertawa. "Yaudah, jalan yuk sekarang."
Dia mengangguk kemudian berdiri. "Ayo."
Aku berdiri dan berjalan ke mobil dengannya.
"Gimana?" tanyaku.
"Gimana apanya?" tanyanya balik, dia terlihat benar-benar bingung.
"Mau gak?" tanyaku.
"Ih, bukannya emang udah?"
"Oh jadi selama ini..."
Dia terdiam. "Maksud kamu? Oh... aku salah ya, maaf deh."
"Nggak, nggak, maksud aku... aku kira... tapi bener kan? Mau kan."
"Iyalah." katanya dengan yakin.
"You sure you want to be my girl?"
"I thought I already am."
Aku tersenyum dan dia tersenyum balik.

One Of My Favorite Men

Monday, August 15, 2011 Comments Off

Ever since I watched Sense and Sensibilities back in 2007, I understood what kind of men I prefer to be with. As much as I liked Edward Cullens, I prefer Edward Ferrars, but... of course, I've never fancied the idea of men like that, I prefer men like Colonel Brandon. A man. A man who let go the woman he loved for a man that he knew wasn't worthy of. A man that still saved her, knowing that she wouldn't return his feelings. A man that loved her. A man. A genuine man.
Of course he was mysterious.
and mostly silent.
and dark.
and secretly tough.
had a voice descended from heaven.
and of course played by Alan Rickman.

he's one of my favorite characters and definitely the type of guy I like. you know... mysterious, most of the time silent, likes to read, selfless and a right gentleman. Can someone please find me my own Colonel Brandon?

His Gem

Thursday, August 11, 2011 Comments Off

His voice vibrated the whole room. His rough, deep, velvety voice, but it travelled smoothly through the air. He had the most mesmerizing voice I ever heard of, he didn't have the soothing tone like those people on the radio had, but his tone was much better than that.
"I'd like to remind you all that today is the last day to submit your assignments by e-mail, but friday is the last day if you want to submit it by hardcopies. Yes, my dear students, I accept both, written and typed."he explained, when he spoke that, his eyes darting back and forth from one side of the class to the other.
"Miss Peter." he snapped, of all the names in this class, he picked mine.
"Yes, sir?" I replied.
"Stop daydreaming and meet me after class!" he demanded.
"Yes, sir." I said.

The whole lecture that day was long forgotten the minute he demanded to meet me and I was clearly nervous about what he was about to say. At the end of the lesson, I waited until the last fellow student went outside the room and walked up to him. He was sitting and clearing his desk for unnecessary things, I stayed silent until he finished.

"Ruby..." he said my name softly.
"Yes, sir?"
"Cut the 'sir' bullshit." he whispered.
"What is it, Mark?" I asked.
He finally looked up at me, his hands were clasped in front of his face and his face looked defeated. "What's up with you today?"
I gave him a smile, a shy smile. "Nothing, Mark, just a bit distracted today."
"I know... I noticed. Your sister asked me to look after you in here, but I can't do it if you don't open up to me." he sighed.
"I'm sorry," I apologized.
He motioned me to sit next to him. "Share with me. Please?"
My eyes looked at everywhere but him, I was afraid he would judge me. "I... guess... um... I want to... well... I'm in love."
I could feel his eyes bore into me, his body went rigid. "Who?" he asked.
I looked at him questioningly, "Why are you asking?"
"I just want to know..." he said, his tone went softer.
"Why? Why do you want to know?" I asked.
"Just cause..." he answered.
"Because you want to be another protective sibling, is that it?" I asked. I was angry. I couldn't believe my sister's childhood friend would be as protective as a real brother, who was he? If I wanted to date someone, I shouldn't ask him for permission, right? How dare he?
"No, of course not!"
"Then why is it?"
"Just because!"
"Because my dear lovely sister, the one you've been in love with since God knows when, asked you?" I yelled. I shouldn't be yelling at my own teacher, but he had crossed the line.
"No!" he yelled back.
"Then why? You want to be my over-protective future brother-in-law, isn't it?" I yelled again. "Because you want to gain trust from my sister, huh? I don't want to answer any of your questions anymore unless it has something to do with your lecture. Good day, sir."

Before I could stand, his hand gripped my wrist. "Just tell me who the fuck he is!" he demanded.
I gaped at him and pulled my wrist back to my side. "That, sir, is none of your concern."
"It is, goddamn it." he screamed.
"Why?" I hissed.
"I can't tell you!"
"Then neither can I." I replied coldly.
He sighed. "Answer for an answer?"
A few moments went by as I considered his offer. "Yes. We'll go together."
He nodded and we counted together.

"Because I love you." "That guy is you."

In One Of The Rarest Occasions.

Tuesday, August 9, 2011 Comments Off

Tonight's theme is based on loneliness, or actually the opposite of it.
and everything that revolves around it.

Basic First.
I've always attracted to people who prefer being silent or taciturn. Definitely mysterious and no cheap talks. Someone I could argue with from time to time, about the simplest, most unimportant things, the kind of arguments that would last only for awhile, arguments about things that shouldn't be argue about, like "what kind of ice creams we should be having after dinner", or, taken from one of my favorite movies, "whether the pyramids were majestic or magnificent". Someone who I can share everything with and make no judgements whatsoever about it, only smile thoughtfully and laugh occasionally. Someone who can soothes me, can chase away the demons in my head and ease away both physical and mental. I don't need Mr. Perfect, nor do I need Prince Charming... only normal people with abnormal gifts, like... knowing if my smiles today are genuine or fake or the mix of it, hugging me when he knows I need it, sending me chocolates when I feel like the whole world is ending, bringing me foods when I don't even know I want it, giving me pecks on my forehead when I feel like I'm the ugliest person in the world... simple little things, I know, but it means the most. Don't get me wrong, I do want those candlelight dinners, but just not everyday, I want simple blessings daily, not some giant givings annually.
I know those things I'm talking about are delusional thoughts, but I'm willing to wait, not wait for him, mind you, but wait for the chance, fate, destiny to meet him and fight for him. I know I should get real, face the fact that the kind of guy like that is hardly exist nowadays.

People told me, some implicitly and the others unexpectedly explicit, that I am special. That I don't have to go through all of those unworthy relationships and I would find that special someone to be married with. That brief relationships aren't for me. Of course it's all true. I don't want brief, unworthy, short-lived relationships. I won't last any of those probably. I don't want too serious relationships, God knows I am not really ready for that kind of relationships, but I don't want some childish relationships either.

Marriage Kind.
I still not know yet what kind of guy that I would marry. I know what they are supposed to do--and perhaps what I supposed to do--, but I don't know what they would look like. I know he has to have the same faith and religion with me, I know he has to be responsible, I know he has to be more mature than me, but those are personalities and qualifications, aren't those?

Rules And Regulations.
Seeing many crazy relationships and many damaged marriages making me insane myself. I know marriage is not only based on love and mutual attraction, but it also based on everything else, such as commitments to one another (in whichever kind there is), offsprings' genetic material, faith with each other, bearing responsibilities with each other, and others... something logical but based on feelings.

I know I'm too young for talking about marriage, but these kinds are the kinds I've been observing for the past seventeen years. I want a relationship that would stand still no matter how strong the hurricanes strike through it, that would stay as it is (if not become greater), not crumbling into pieces or falling apart.
Naïve I know, but can't I hope? I've watched too many falls, I don't want any of them, I don't.
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