Archive for March 2015


Thursday, March 26, 2015 Comments Off

We went for a trip during the first baby steps of Fall. The Sun was still shining, but the captured moments between Dawn and Dust were only few in numbers. They were too short, mostly situated indoors even though that photo shoot session on the lake could be count as an exception. We were too lazy to drive, we stopped at every public place that exuded warmth on our way back home. This time, it was a shabby bar. The way back felt like longer than its original length. Make that double, you said. I did not know whether you were referring to the road or to the whiskey you just ordered.

We fell asleep in the car. Our alcohol induced brain could not take any part of the handling heavy machinery work, so we opted to park on the side road near the bar. The next morning I woke up first. It was the hour of the wolf, actually. I got tired of waiting for you to wake up, even though counting on your eyelashes underneath that sturdy glasses or tracing the contours of your bare hands with visible veins were fascinating to me for awhile. Then, I decided to go out for a walk, just to that clear meadow that was peeking at us, teasing us to take a look at the vast space––something akin to what sirens would do.

The dark pitch lured me. I felt oddly displaced in the car, perhaps I thought I was ruining your personal, intimate moment with yourself, or maybe because I did not feel like I was a part of you. I was a removable part of your whole persona. An irreplaceable, removable piece. There is an ingrained fear in my mind that someday this part would be removed forever. Though, I must assumed, it would not be for a long time.

Throughout our impromptu photo shoot on the lake, I was still wondering how to keep myself not falling in love with you. How to separate between friendship and romantic pursuit, even though the latter one would be impossible to achieve.

Turned out, I couldn't.

Andi, Part I

Friday, March 13, 2015 Comments Off

As much as I believed in love, I also have this tiny, but burdening sense of self-doubt. Romantic love is something that I have always pursued and dreamed of since I was little. It was not the grandeur gestures that drew me into the obsession of finding romantic love, but it was more about the domestic life that romantic love offered. The intimacy and the warmth of having someone's attention and affection solely on you. Romantic love is something otherworldly; a whimsical, ethereal being that not everyone has the chance to experience in their life. It was something that I thought missing in my life.

I wanted romantic love. All my life I was called a hopeless romantic for believing in it and aiming for it in life. I also had been called delusional, by a group of unmentionable sociopaths with no life, for believing the existence of it. I also been told to get my head out of the gutter for believing that one day someone would want to share their life with me.

At one point of my life, I began to realise that perhaps romantic love is not in store for me. That Life, the Universe, and everything would not want me to experience it for imperceptible reasons. Maybe it's because that, if I had romantic love, I would crave for it when it's gone and would not appreciate the honest platonic love that my friends gave me on daily basis.

And then our path crossed.
The first time I saw you, I wonder, "Is he going to be another stranger in my life?"

[Mabella Rehastri]

Friends in Frames

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In 2009, for my birthday, my friends got me this beautiful photo frames that you can make into a small stack. On the back of the each frames, they wrote this thoughtful birthday wishes for me. Displayed alongside of the felicitations were their signatures.

A similar thing happened on my birthday this year. Along with a very handy and fancy-looking Tumbler, another one of my group of friends gave me a framed picture of the seven of us that we took a month back. Although, unlike the other picture, this one did not have birthday wishes, though I wish I had thought of this when they gave it to me so each of them could promptly write one.

What I really love about those gifts are the thoughts that were put into them. The reason behind them buying me framed picture was that they thought that I would always carry them with me everywhere I go. Why that thought really made me feeling so blissfully blessed is because they consciously believe and support my dreams; whatever that were when I was in high school and whatever they are right now. They always want me to gain the endgame that I constantly talk about.

By encouraging me to live abroad, they also give me the blessing to live without them, but they want me to know that I have them to come home to. That, even though I live somewhere so far away, they will keep on being there for me in the good times, but especially in the bad times.

So, I want to thank you, girls. For staying faithful in me, for overlooking my bad days, cheering me at my worst, sharing my sorrow, fighting my inner demons, stopping my inner wars, listening to my absurd music playlist, tasting my horrible food, and keeping my head up. Thank you, my love, for letting me know that romantic love is not the only type of love that strengthens me. Cheers, for the decades to come. See you at the top, ladies.

[lisaplace] [unknown]

Timeless Timepiece

Tuesday, March 10, 2015 Comments Off

My father has always taught me to be prepared. Amongst all of his teachings, the only one that has been sticking with me is how I should always get ready for the definable it. Granted he has always given me some precautionary pep talks about certain circumstances that I will experience in the near future (or a place that he dubs as real life), yet he never fails to remind me to make provisions. I have always been encouraged to plan out my life, perhaps not down to microscopic detail rather in the whole big picture kind of scheme, in order for me to weave in the course of life more easily.

In order to be prepared, my Dad says, we always have to be on time and be sure that we have necessary items to procure the things that we want to achieve. To make sure that I understood this, he always reminded me about taking these staple objects with me when I go out. These are important to remind me that I should always remember my goal, always remember my it.

My wallet, as a reminder for capital, the be all end all. My phone, as a reminder that I will constantly need help from everyone. My keys, as a reminder of home––the place where it all started. And my watch, as a reminder that time is an irreplaceable currency which can be traded but can never be bought.

However, with my current fashion favourite, my collection of watches does not suit well with them. The other day, while browsing through job applications and whatnots, I came across Zalora website and found amazing designs by Casio. If you are a watch enthusiast like my father, you would have known that Casio always offer timeless timepieces that have beautiful, intricate designs that wonderfully match any kind of your fashion preferences, especially the gold piece (which I used to own when I was younger).

So, if you are in dire need of great timepiece, why not try using Casio? And you can buy them with special deal at Zalora. Have fun searching!
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