Purrfect Poems and Play

Ruins

2012-01-29T08:28:00.001-08:00

the itch to leave
to forget every single detail
every guilt
have never been this big

the sin of compassion
was the cue
unable to hold the curiosity
was the glue

and it went onfor years,
on full speed
the high was too sweet
to let go

no one can be blamed
no fingers should be pointed
to any direction
it doesn't matter anymore

then as sudden as it started
it ended,
with nothing left
to remember by
to savor

getting by is the only
reasonable option
even if it means
losing some sparks

so the books will be closed
the sheets folded neatly
to start everything again
from ruins

Picture was borrowed from here.

Letting Go When You Are Enough

2012-01-25T08:25:00.000-08:00

If you love someone, set them free.

That concept is simple and yet so complex.

Loving someone usually means that you want to be with that person, all the time. To spend every waking hour with them, to constantly be by their side. To call them yours.

But I understand that no one can own anyone.

Because human being own themselves.

I myself stopped believing that there is love, years ago.

I only believe in acts of love.

Accompanying your loved one in the middle of heavy pouring rain, with a flimsy umbrella that left you soaking wet.

Offering to pick you up at the airport, even when they loathe the traffic jam.

Feeding the cats when you are away.

Coaxing you to calm yourself by playing with your stuffed animals, just to ease the tension.

But loved ones can come and go. Acts of love can go awry, or die away.

The safest bet is to let go. Accept that you yourself are enough, even with no one around.

Picture was borrowed from here.

Turning Tea

2012-01-25T00:55:00.000-08:00

I'm happy to say that I successfully turn someone into a tea drinker.

My best friend is a coffee drinker.

Although he and I are best friends, his mother has some negative opinions on me. I tried to smooth things out a little bit by buying her some tea, because I drink tea and I have some body of knowledge about good teas.

So I sent her this tea:

Of course, my best friend said that he bought the tea for her. She liked it and asked him to buy another pack. He also began drinking tea afterward.

A couple of months ago he asked me to buy him tea that has a soothing and calming effect, the kinds that puts you to sleep better. One of his friends were having trouble sleeping, so I bought him these teas:

To my surprise, my best friend drank the tea himself, and gave half to his friend. I asked him why he did that, and he said, "I want to try them, and it tastes good."

Couple of days ago, he said he want to buy a tea infuser, because I gave him some loose tea leaf. I told him to use tea bags, but he refused. I guess he's the kind that go-green conscious, so he wanted to go easy on using paper, ect. So, I promised him I will buy him one. I asked him about his tea supply, and he said, " I just bought two packs of tea. One variety pack and one variety of fun teas.

The feeling of glee was too obvious, it tingled all over my fingers. I couldn't stop smiling like an idiot reading his message.

To read more about tea, you can go here.

The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake by Aimee Bender

2012-01-19T23:41:00.000-08:00

I finished reading this book yesterday evening.

I found the book surprisingly entertaining, shocking, beautiful without feeling mushy. I felt all the right emotions, at the right moment.

The idea that someone can taste other people's feeling through their cooking is just brilliant. I wish I thought of that before.

At first I was bothered by how Ms Bender never use quotation marks to differentiate the conversations. But I slowly got used to it.

I just love the metaphors that she used through out the book. I think they are very clever and witty, and sad at the same time.

A very nice and haunting book to start the year. I will read another book as soon as I can.

Picture was borrowed from here.

Early

2012-01-18T17:21:00.000-08:00

the shoulders
were tight
due to lack of
proper sleep

the tightness
seeped through
the words
the tone of voices

the meeting
was not rushed
in any way
as the light came

but the unsaid
were plenty
the pauses
louder than usual

it will never be easy
when everything
changes too early
too soon

Picture was borrowed from here.

Legs

2012-01-17T20:52:00.000-08:00

that afternoon, the rain came
with a dull feeling
it dragged on
until the next day

I should have
notice
the drugged
mellowed tone

I should have
just said
see you
later

in my defense
I feel a little bit
guilty seeing
her legs

sticking out from
inside the cubicle
heavy-laden
with sick expectation

Picture was borrowed from here.

Offer

2012-01-17T07:15:00.000-08:00

she sipped your coffee
without having to ask
if she did,
you would've said yes

you did the same thing
you sipped my tea
without asking
and I didn't mind

but the thing is,
I told you off
"You should have asked,
even if I would have said yes."

did you tell her
off?
or did you
offer?

Picture was borrowed from here.

Rain

2012-01-12T00:02:00.001-08:00

Call me selfish
obnoxious
envious
bitter

I really
don't give
a damn about
your opinion

This is my time
to have
everything
works on my side

But your raining
on my parade
will never be
forgotten

Picture was borrowed from here.

Bullies

2012-01-10T09:07:00.000-08:00

I hate bullies.

I think they're lowlifes
who don't have enough
brain tissues
to function properly
humanely

I think that the reason
of their existence
is to shape
super human
who can thrive in adversities

When a sweet and smart
young girl
refuses to go to school
because of them
I curse them

May all of them
someday
meet their match
another bully
making their lives a living hell

To Sekar, be strong.

Picture was borrowed from here.

Truth

2012-01-10T05:52:00.000-08:00

You asked the same questions
repeatedly
and like a broken record
I lied
constantly

I think of you
as a selfish
bastard
who feeds
on others'

admiration
devotion
attention
care
cure

Someday,
everyone of them
will get the bitter
and harsh
ugly truth

That you are
just too proud
and sick
to be
on your own

Picture was borrowed from here.

Save It

2012-01-10T05:41:00.000-08:00

If you think
it's getting easier
you're dead
wrong

This will
always be
my own personal
battle

Trying to
stay
at an optimum
level

That elusive
crap
they call
balance

So save
that pep talk
for other suckers
who care

Because I don't
and I won't
even if it'd make
my whole house fall down

Picture was borrowed from here.

Quiet

2012-01-08T07:29:00.000-08:00

I don't need to know
everything that
revolves around
me

I don't want to know
everything that
I should
know

I just want
to keep
everything
simple

I crave
for laid-back
easy
afternoons

I'm desperate
for peaceful
dreamless
slumber

Picture was borrowed from here.

Charity

2012-01-07T08:37:00.000-08:00

I’m not

your

charity case

I’m fully

capable

to entertain myself

You have

things to do

and I have mine

You have your friends

to attend to

I also have mine

Let’s just agree

to talk

when really necessary

Picture was borrowed from here.

Flowers in Macro

2012-01-06T02:25:00.000-08:00

I took these photos with my Philips Xenium 860 camera when I went to Bali in December 2011.

I took these using macro feature on the camera.

I love taking picture of flower in macro, because I find the result usually more beautiful.

Enjoy!

Today's Gifts

2012-01-05T09:58:00.000-08:00

From my very kind and thoughtful co-workers, Dilmah's gourmet teas and local coffee from Menado, one of my co-workers' home town.

Stone Wall

2012-01-03T05:16:00.000-08:00

I looked at her
trying to ignore the fact
that she made me
more uncomfortable
by the minute

The always changing
emotion on her face
how sharp her words were
even when she smiled
then, it hit me

It was like talking to her daughter

I call her flighty
for her tendency
to fly away
to her own little
twisted universe

Where she rules as queen
victimized by everyone
in her kingdom
always hurt and broken
with no one to care for her

I just sat there, pretending sipped my tea

Picture was borrowed from here.

The Show

2012-01-02T02:46:00.000-08:00

I do try

to ease seamlessly

into this world

that I once knew too well

I planted smiles

I smuggled laughter

I even bribed a listener

to take overthe whole show

I refuse to be defeated

by people

that I know

absolutely nothing about

So, I'll be

someone that is just right

kind, attentive, funny, patient

someone who waits

Picture was borrowed from here.

Kopi Aroma, Bandung, Jawa Barat

2011-12-31T04:04:00.000-08:00

I've been to Kopi Aroma, a coffee factory/seller in Bandung, Jawa Barat. I went there two years ago, November 14, 2009, but never got the chance to write anything about it. I visited Kopi Aroma because of my cousin. He likes the coffee and asked me to accompany me to go there. So one day, we went to Bandung, just to go there. We took a taxi there, through a crowed market, and finally got there to look around and bought some coffee.

I wasn't acoffee drinker back then. I was a tea person. But seeing my cousin'sexcitement and eagerness about coffee converted me somehow. Now, Idrink coffee, too. Not as much as tea, God forbids, but still much morethan I used to.

KopiAroma is an old business establishment, running since 1930. It's alocal family-own business, and consistently doing everything just theway they were when they started. The building is antique collonial andall of their equipments are also antique, and working, too.

I lovedmy trip to Kopi Aroma, just because everything smelled wonderful. Ilove the smell of roasted coffee because it always reminds me of mymother. She drinks coffee almost religiously, everyday.

Lots ofpeople love Kopi Aroma because of many reasons. But personally, I thinkto have access to great coffee, at such bargain, it's a luxury not toomany people own. I'm thankful to be living in a country where there aremany local coffee business, producing such great coffee.

To read more about Kopi Aroma, you can go here (in Indonesian) and here (in English).

The Importance of Being (Idle)

2011-12-29T02:05:00.000-08:00

I'm learning
the art of doing
nothing

Sleep in the dawn
wake up in the middle
of the day

Watch TV until
everything
turns to blur

I'm turning
into
a lazy cat

And even the cats
are going out
to do their business

Picture was borrowed from here.

Blind

2011-12-28T09:10:00.000-08:00

I envy people
who can keep themselves
checked

Who knows
everything
about themselves

Because I don't
like a ship in the middle
of a storm, I'm that blind

Somehow I'm starting
to believe that
I have to know everything

In order for me
to be happy
and content

But I'm happy now
with who I am
what I have accomplished

So, what now?
Should I change myself
or should I just leave?

Picture was borrowed from here.

Assumption

2011-12-24T21:35:00.000-08:00

I was born and raised as a Catholic.

That fact alone will stunned some people, I think. When I sent Christmas greetings, there would always be a few people who said thank you and not returning the greetings. I usually just grinned.

I'm not a religious person, but I can say that I'm a spiritual being, trying to find ways to connect to any larger entities. I tried going to church for a while. It took me while to realize it didn't work for me. I tried praying. Same thing. I tried meditation and failed miserably.

Then one day, I found my way. My own unique way to be grateful.

I'm not going to talk about that. What I want to say is you cannot assumed about anyone until you have enough materials to assume.

People assumed I am not a Catholic or even Christian, because of my name. Or from how I look. By the way, how should a Catholic look like, I wonder?

Or is it because they never see me set foot on a church? Or praying before eating?

Just because I don't do (or even believe in) the rituals, I don't think it makes me less of a Catholic than anyone who does.

I'm still a Catholic even if anyone says otherwise. I'm a Catholic and I don't think anything would change that, well, at least not that I know of.

I'm not against people who devout themselves entirely into their religion (or their family, or spouse, kids, work, game). I think it's great to be able to focus on something, because I cannot. And just because I can't do that, not yet, anyway, it doesn't mean that I don't want to. I'm still searching and I hope someday I will find something more concrete and solid to offer my gratitude to the whole universe.

But right now, I think I'm good.

Picture was borrowed from here.

Stop

2011-12-24T10:43:00.000-08:00

I want to stop.

Everything begins to feel painful.

Nothing feels too great any more.

When I cannot be myself, it hurts the most.

I cannot be myself when I cannot say anything that I want, that I need to say.

That is why I wish to end this.

I cannot be someone that I'm not.

Aren't you tired of this?

I know I am.

Picture was borrowed from here.

Five Months Old

2011-12-22T18:57:00.000-08:00

Five months is not much. It's not enough. It's not ready. He will die.

I heard his story while trying to even my own breathing. I don't want to hear this.

But I figured he needed to tell me. He probably had told the same story for months now. I just wished his hand would stay steady on the steering wheel.

About the waiting, the anticipation, the joy. How it was so difficult. How he asked around and tried to comprehend about what happened. It would be difficult. It would be costly. And what would happened. I bet there were many scenarios played inside his head.

He had to think about his wife and two little girls. In the end, he had to give up his dream about having a son.

It was an induced labor. The baby was born dead. I wanted to ask if they named him, but didn't. I thought it would be rude to even ask. They buried the little guy properly, and they prayed in the 40th day. He kept the picture and still cry sometimes whenever he looked at it.

After hearing his story, I still had the same sentences hanging on my tongue. I don't want to hear this. I don't need this.

Then I heard it, as clearly as if it came from my expensive earphone.

He didn't ask for this. He didn't need for this to happened. Nobody should ever experience something like this. Nobody should ever choose between his wife and unborn son. It's not fair. It will never be fair.

Thank you for the ride. Thank you for the reminder.

Picture was borrowed from here.

Be Still

2011-12-21T16:49:00.000-08:00

I want to be able to

muffle the sounds

drown the voices

enough to let me

think and hear myself

speak for a moment

I want to tame the flame

the many things that

forge me

into who I am

what I can do

what I will become

I want to quiet this

wandering mind

from going too far

from its core

to prevent it from missing

its windows

Most of all,

I want to be just

for the sake of myself

and others

that I love

and care for

Picture of a swing was borrowed from here.

Love The One You're With

2011-12-21T05:06:00.001-08:00

I've learned a lot today.

I learned that I can be quite patient when I want and need to.

I found out that I cannot get angry to someone that looked exactly like one of my aunts. Even when that someone made me wait for almost two hours for a half an hour meeting.

I also learned that I can be very generous and caring, again, if I care enough to try. I can buy and do things for other people without even looking at the price tags or considering the amount of effort or time.

I need to try to give love and affection to people that matter and people that needed me most.

Sometimes, not often, there will be someone who need you, that cannot be helped by other people but you.

I think the concept is so simple. Love the one you're with.

Picture borrowed from here.

Team

2011-12-21T05:04:00.001-08:00

Being in the middle of a flight heading home, made realized one thing. I'm so damn lucky to have amazing friends and co-workers. I love them all, even if I do not know all of them that well.

First of all, I want to talk about the older men. They took me under their rough and rustic wings, looked at me with a mixed sense of admiration and pride, when they barely knew me. One is very polite and soft-spoken. One is the equivalent of old chainsaw which is loud, ugly, but work perfectly. Both of them thought I was this smart, pretty, and proper young lady who takes no bullshit from anyone. I'm very humbled with their assessment of me and I'd do anything to defend them, even bitch-slapped anyone who dare crossed their paths. I barely know them, but both had stollen my heart and melt it in their rough hands.

Then there was this one guy. This surprisingly handsome and sweet man with an edge and a charm that would made any man green with envy. I know that he's actually very smart and perceptive, but chose to keep his mouth shut most of the time. He's patient, funny, sometimes moody, but also a very caring person when you get to know him. I respect him dearly and kindly will work by his side, no matter how tired I am.

And the baby, the youngest guy is this neat and well-mannered handsome gentleman who would make any mother proud to call him her son. He's helpful, laid-back and can be kind of naughty sometimes. But I cannot help but feeling very protective and nurturing of him. He sacrifices alot to be on the team and sometimes faltered along the way, but insisted to keep his part of the deal. I admire him for that. Such young man, so much responsbility to bear.

Finally, my two dearest friends, my boss and my partner in crime. They have put up with a lot of my shit and still love me fearlessly. I sometimes embarresed by how they are treating me with such care and lovingly accept all of my antiques and quirkiness. They probably would never know how damaged I actually am, but if they did, I'm sure it would never change the way they see me. For them, I will always be this little piece of their puzzles which without it, their little team will never be complete.

I love this team and so thankful for our four days together. I miss you all already.

Picture borrowed from here.

December in Bali-Pura Tirta Empul in Tampak Siring

2011-12-18T06:59:00.001-08:00

Tirta Empul means water (tirta) that comes from the ground (empul). Pura means Balinese Hindu temple.
According to the folklore, there was a king named Mayadenawa who was very powerful but evil. The heaven then sent Bhatara Indra,one of the gods, to kill him. Mayadenawa could not fight Bhatara Indra and fled by walking with his feet upright, so he couldn't be heard, thus the name Tampak Siring came from (Tampak=feet; Siring=upright). Mayadenawa poisoned the entire troop of Bhatara Indra with poisonous water. Bhatara Indra put a flagpole on the ground and water came out from that hole, which then became the antidote for the poisonous water. That water source is now Tirta Empul.

The water that comes from the water is used by local people to do melukat, some sort of ritual of cleansing oneself from sin, impurities, or evil thoughts. Tourists and non-Balinese Hindu can also use the water to clean the face, hands, and feet, or dive right into the water. Since this is a holy temple, when people want to visit it, they have to wear long pants or skirt or traditional sarong, and long-sleeve shirt or t-shirt (no tank tops, please!) Also, any female who is on her period is forbidden to enter the temple. If this rule is broken (because of course, you cannot tell if someone is having her period or not from the outside appearance), bad luck or bad karma will follow.

These are some of the photos that I took at the Pura Tirta Empul:

The Water Spring

To find more about this temple, please go here

December in Bali-The Food

2011-12-18T06:54:00.001-08:00

Nasi Campur is a common traditional dish in Bali. It usually consists of white rice, chicken, beef, fish, saute vegetable (usually Lawar), and condiments. The meat and vegetable portion usually small. Everything in Nasi Campur is usually spicy, except for the rice. I love it, because it is spicy and I find eating variety of dish is very comforting and not boring. Also, if you're not happy with the flavor of one or two dishes, you still have other options.

The best suckling pig that I've ever eat is Babi Guling Ibu Oka in Ubud, Bali. Anthony Bourdain, the host of No Reservation, a travel and food program in TLC, said that it is the best pork dish he ever tasted. And I believe him, because he travels the world for a living. But I didn't get the chance to visit Ibu Oka on my recent trip to Bali. Instead, I went to Babi Guling Candra in Jalan Teuku Umar, Denpasar. It wasn't as good as Ibu Oka, but it's not bad. Next time I visit Bali, I will not miss Babi Guling Ibu Oka. That's a promise.

My other favorites is Balinese Sate Lilit. Its main ingredients are fish and prawns, mashed together, then mixed with grated fresh coconut flesh and other herbs, then put the mix on a lemongrass sticks then grill them. Sate Lilit is usually eaten without any sauce, unlike other type of satay.

Picture of Nasi Campur was borrowed from here.

Picture of Babi Guling Candra was borrowed from here.

Picture of Sate Lilit was borrowed from here.

December in Bali-BAS Agrowisata and Civet Coffee

2011-12-18T06:52:00.000-08:00

BAS Agrowisata is Bali Amertha Sari Agrowisata, Bali coffee plantation that I visited, and they make civet coffee.

Civet coffee or Kopi Luwak is a very rare kind of coffee and the most expensive one. If I tell you what it is, I bet most of you would feel nauseated, disbelieve, or shock, or all of the above. Civet coffee comes from the fresh coffee beans (coffee berries) with their red skin still intact, eaten by this animal called civet or The Asian Palm Civet (Paradoxurus hermaphroditus), also called Toddy Cat, and because civet doesn't digest the hard beans, when it defecates, the hard beans are still intact. Well, that hard beans are collected, cleaned and roasted to make the highly prized civet coffee.

It is by far the best destination on my recent Bali trip. This is a coffee, tea,cocoa, and herb plantation, in a small scale, of course. They also sell coffee, tea, cocoa powder, herbs, essential oils and their products (soap, candles, ect). They have this small houses where they demonstrate how they process the coffee.

This is the dry, pre-roasted coffee.

These are the earthenware woks to roast the coffee. They use wood-burning stove. Very traditional. Notice the canang sari (Balinese small offering basket for the Gods) in the right-hand corner.

The roasted coffee's cooling place.

After the coffee cools, they grind it with a huge stone mortar and pestle.

The coffee tasting place. Notice the civet picture hanging on the wall.

The free tester: from far left: arabica, robusta, ginger coffee;

front left: hot chocolate, ginger tea, lemon grass tea.

I love the idea of introducing something exotic and different to whole lot of people this way. I love the experience and the free tester. They also breed and raise the civets that produce their civet coffee. I tried to take picture of the civets, but almost all of them were sleeping, except one. I think they're nocturnal animal, like me. Sleepy in the day, active in the night. One of the civet was awake, but he/she was so hyper, moving all around the cage as if he/she had just had a bucket of coffee. So, I had to be satisfied with a civet picture hanging on the coffee tasting seating area.

The arabica coffee was tasty. But the winner for me is the hot chocolate. It was so tasty and went very well with the cold and rainy afternoon. I bought the civet coffee in a small pot to share with my friend, and it tasted rather raw and earthy, unlike the smooth and sour one I had in Excelso. But still, I enjoyed it. It's one one of the highlights of the trip, and they aren't that many.

To learn more about this coffee place, you can go here.

December in Bali-Sacred Monkey Forest Sanctuary

2011-12-18T06:35:00.000-08:00

One of the places I visited in my recent trip to Bali is The Sacred Monkey Forest Sanctuary in Padangtegal, Ubud. It's about two to three hours drive from Denpasar, the capital of Bali. The monkeys there are the long-tailed macaques (Macaca fascicuiaris). Unlike in Sangeh or Uluwatu, the monkeys in The Sacred Monkey Forest Sanctuary were quite civilized, well, they at least didn't snatch glasses or raid bags. They did however, climbed onto people's back and stayed on their shoulders, dangerously close to try to find hair lice on your head. One even made one of my girlfriends cried because he held on to her brand new (and expensive) pants.

I kind of enjoyed my short stay there. I saw the most beautiful macaque babies with their mothers, but failed to take their pictures because of their very protective mothers. I had fun laughing at people with monkeys on their backs, literally. I almost wet myself from laughing so hard when my friend's pants was being tugged by this vicious looking male macaque. I know it's not nice to laugh at your friend when she almost cries in distress, but I wasn't the only one laughing, so I think I was safe.

I enjoyed watching the monkeys jumped and swam in the water fountain, right in the centre of the forest. They seemed like to have fun and didn't really care about the human watching them. I looked at their faces and noticing that they looked a lot like their relatives, the Japanese macaques. In Japan, the macaques also love bathing in the water, the hot spring water in the winter, to be exact.

These are some of the photos I took in The Sacred Monkey Forest Sanctuary:

The Alpha Male, eating a stolen banana.

The cute face, with a toe sticking out.

The sad face

and finally, the topless sunbather

To find out more about this place, you can go here.

Lone Traveler

2011-12-17T18:08:00.000-08:00

I'm definitely a lone traveler. All of my trips to Bali made me come to this conclusion.

Let me explain this. First of all, as a human being, I don't really play well with the rest of the human population, not always. I'm stubborn and impatient, and that two qualities alone always give other people (and myself) a hard time in trying to socializing. I know that for quite a while now, so it's not really surprising.

Second of all, I like to do things spontaneously, especially while travelling. I don't like scheduled trips complete with planned activities. I think schedule takes the fun out of travelling. I don't mind some sort of plan, but it has the ability to be tweaked along the way. The problem is when travelling with other people, you kind of don't tweak anything.

Third, and this is my final and most important argument, I can't stand other people's pet peeves. I discovered on my last trip that one of the people in the group couldn't and wouldn't eat food that comes out of a box. Well, in a trip, you're bound to eat food that comes in boxes, because they are usually cheaper if not tastier. So she insisted on eating random junk food than eat with the rest of us. I found that very annoying and making me want to slap her across the face. It also happened in 2000 when I went with my university friends. One of my friends is a picky eater, in the worst form. It made the journey rather challenging, especially when trying to find a place to eat.

So, I decided, I will return to Bali someday, alone. I will stuff my face with roast pig with no one to complain. I will take that bike ride that I always dream of, through the paddy fields. I will drink wine to my content. Hell, I will have pizza with wine! I will go to Menjangan Island, Bali Barat once again.

The next time I visit Bali, I will be alone and have the best time of my life.

Picture's borrowed from here.

A Surprise from Monika Andrea

2011-12-11T21:16:00.001-08:00

One of my students showed up today at my office with these. She graduated today and made time to visit me and gave me the card she made herself and the book, which by the way, is one of my favorite books of all time.

I read the card after she left, and found the content to be disturbingly sweet and it almost made me cry my eyes out. But, the happiness wins. I'm overwhelmed, but I still cannot wipe away the smug smile I have on right now. I think it will be stuck on my face until like, forever maybe?

Did I mention she made the card herself? She told me she want to be an art therapist, which is also one of my unfulfilled dreams. I wish her the best of times and luck after this. I'm glad to have made such a great impression on her.

Gross Out

2011-12-11T17:58:00.001-08:00

Today on my way to work, very early in the morning, I came across a sight that made me rather uncomfortable.

I saw two women, standing side by side, chatting about their work. One woman that stood directly in front of me had her hand on the railing, and one on her side. The other woman also hung on the railing, but her other hand was on her friend's shoulder, doing stroking movement.

The hand stroke was kind of odd for me, because it was done very gently, yet I found it very disturbing. I tried to look for other clues and found them on their gestures. The woman who was being stroked was leaning her body away from her friend, could be a sign of discomfort. But the woman who was doing the stroking was leaning toward her friend, with a smile and a look that made me feel more uncomfortable. It was kind of seductive and shy look on her face, and it sent chills to my spine.

I don't know why I keep seeing these things in public transport that made me want to throw up my insides, but hey, it also means that I will always have interesting materials to write about.

Picture of Converse shoes on a train was borrowed from here.

Change

2011-12-10T19:47:00.001-08:00

Something did change.

I feel the ice, the cold. Gradually it sets in on me.

My effort of trying to rebuild the wall slowly succeeds.

I let myself be a stranger, again.

It still hurts. I can still feel the pain.

I can almost taste the distance. The gap that I nurture.

I cannot let it flow when all I've done all of my life was frantically trying to find a lifeline, something to hold on to.

This is my way of trying to say, "I disagree."

I'm saddened by this change.

Sad. And lonely.

Picture of Hedy Lamarr was borrowed from here.

Lost

2011-12-08T21:49:00.001-08:00

I lost my drive to write. To laugh. To watch TV. To eat tasty food. I went to bed early yesterday, skipped dinner, took a shower, brushed my teeth, and went to bed again, and woke up at 10.AM.

The only fun thing I can still do is listening to music. Even that hurts.

I went to the one place that hurts me the most. Even there, I felt nothing.

I forced myself to write these down. I don't want to lose the one thing that can still keep me sane.

I'm still trying to find ways to forgive myself.

Picture of Audrey Hepburn in Breakfast at Tiffany's was borrowed from here.

Losing Respect

2011-12-07T15:20:00.001-08:00

How do you lose my respect? It's simple. Behave inappropriately.

My recent trip to do a favor for a friend who desperately needed a time off made me aware of this fact.

One colleague was repeatedly behaving inappropriately and made me snap. I was like Cesar Millan, and she was the dog who didn't get enough exercise, discipline, and affection. She treated other people like they don't matter. She didn't greet people properly. She stood in the door way, talking to people, blocking other people's way. She overreacted bridging on being a drama queen and I snapped at her, repeatedly. She knows I don't take any bullshit and she's afraid of me. What she doesn't know is that she doesn't have to fear me, if she behaved properly.

She's a 38 year old single acting like a teenager who doesn't have any clue how to work professionally. It pissed me off.

My other example was a married woman of 40-something with two grown kids. Her husband run their business, and stays home while she did the travelling. She has to work to cover for their children tuition fees, while her husband work from home to be with the kids. And she fell in love with a younger man, half her age, mind you, one of her colleagues, during the travel. She told the man how she felt about him, freaked him out, ruin their professional (and personal) relationship, and messed up her work performance. She was withdrawn, quiet, refused to interact to other people, and spent her spare time alternately between sleeping and crying.

When I heard about what she's gone through, I felt sorry for her husband and her children. I felt sorry for her colleague. I didn't feel sorry for her. She did this to herself. She's a woman behaving like teenager. I've lost all my respect for her.

I'm not saying that I'm a hundred percent proper. On the contrary. Behaving properly was always a struggle for me, ever since I was just a little kid. My parents are the type of people who don't really set clear boundaries for their children. So I was growing up with practically no rules. But I've learned to follow rules at school, at church, at someone else's house. I don't have problems with rules because I was craving for them. I'm like a feral dog who craved people's companion and rules.

I think a simple rule like exercise, discipline, and affection would do wonders to these two women. I think a simple rule like that would make anyone started to behave properly, if not admirably.

Picture borrowed from here.

A LightsleeperInsomniac's Wish to Be An Early Riser (When Needed)

2011-11-27T21:26:00.001-08:00

I'm a light sleeper. For as long as I can remember, there have been countless times when I found myself waking up in the middle of the night, or very early in the morning, because of some sound or noise that I heard.

During my junior high school years, I developed insomnia. Purely out of my anxiety over tons of homework, tests, and other teenage drama, I found myself unable to fall asleep as easily as before. My insomnia was gone when I was in high school, but came back with a vengeance when I was in studying in the university. I often found myself wide awake at 2 or 3 AM, with so many thoughts racing through my mind.

Today, I woke up at 04.00 AM because I have to supervise examination at 08.30. I thought that I could sleep early to be able to wake up early. But I just couldn't get to sleep. I kept watching some rerun on television, updating my status on social media, and replying incoming text messages from my best friend. I finally turned off the television, my lights, and my cell phone, and decided to go to sleep. It was 01.00 AM.

It's not healthy, I know. The never ending debate between the productive morning larks and the lazy ass night owls makes me wonder about myself. Am I a morning lark, or a night owl? Let's see some of the evidence and the data that I've gathered from various sources. I'm lazy, so all of these are copied and pasted from the original articles listed at the end of this article.

There is a strong genetic component determining whether a person is an evening or a morning type in their activity times," said Penn State psychology professor Frederick Brown. "Everyone has an inborn basic biological rhythm -- also called a circadian rhythm.

The vast majority of people are neither strong morning nor strong evening types -- just day types. "Even though somebody will swear he's a morning person or a night owl, that's often a false perception," Brown said. However, 15 to 30 percent of people clearly do not follow the normal 24.1-hour cycle. "Their natural period runs shorter or longer than that, a difference that can change the time they normally fall asleep -- and, later, spontaneously awaken -- by a couple of hours."

As people get a bit older, they become more synchronized to their built-in biological rhythms. Evening types retain their evening preferences. The great majority of day and morning types tend to become morning-oriented as they face the need to wake up and go to a job, work steady shifts, put in long hours or take care of children. In their young and middle years, most adults -- whether they're morning, day or evening types -- need eight or nine hours of sleep nightly. Women need a bit more than men.

As more years pass, individuals in their 60s and 70s often find they can function quite well with only six and a half or seven hours of sleep per night -- whether they're morning people, day people or night owls.

Scientists at the University of Alberta have found that there are significant differences in the way our brains function depending on whether we're early risers or night owls. Biologically, scientists found that morning people's brains were most excitable at 9 a.m. This slowly decreased through the day. It was the polar opposite for evening people, whose brains were most excitable at 9 p.m.

Other major findings from the University of Alberta research:

Evening people became physically stronger throughout the day, but the maximum amount of force morning people could produce remained the same.
The excitability of reflex pathways that travel through the spinal cord increased over the day for both groups.
These findings show that nervous-system functions are different and have implications for maximizing human performance.

A study led by Dr Simon Archer found the cause of differences between morning people and night people. "We found that most of the extreme morning preference people have the longer gene and the extreme evening preference people have the short gene," he told the BBC.

"There are extreme morning people and extreme evening people and it seems that behaviour has a genetic basis to it."

Dr Archer said despite the findings, other genes and other factors also played an important role in determining who among us are larks and who are owls.

Dr Archer suggested the findings could have practical advantages for some people.

For instance, people with short versions of the gene may prefer to work nightshifts while those with long versions may prefer to opt for early starts.

"In our current society, where people are working more around the clock it is probably an advantage to certain people to be able to get up early in the morning," he said.

According to a reasonably thorough study, roughly 50% of sleep-preference variability is accounted for by genetics (Markku et al. 2007). Other factors include age, gender, geographic latitude, season of birth, social habits, and culture.

Last but not least, there are other suggestions that we all could follow regarding sleep habits:

• Whether you're a lark or an owl, you still likely need seven to eight hours of sleep.
• If you don't get enough sleep, what time you go to bed or rise won't matter-you'll still experience the side-effects, from depression to a lack of concentration to problems with coordination.
• If you break your natural sleep cycle by forcing yourself to get up early, you'll be tired, less attentive, and not nearly as productive throughout the day.

So, I intended to try to get minimum of 7 hours of sleep everyday. It might sound ambitious, but hey, I got to at least try, right?

Sources:

Picture borrowed from here.

Committed-A Love Story by Elizabeth Gilbert

2011-11-26T18:30:00.001-08:00

Have you ever read a great book that you reluctantly want tofinish? I did. The last book that made me delayed finishing it is Committed byElizabeth Gilbert.

I stopped just before the last chapter. I don’t want tofinish it because I wanted, no, I needed to savor the book and its content. Itmade me laughed, cried, smiled, and thought about many things in my life, like all great books should be.

I never thought a book could bring such a huge impact on me.Let alone a book from a so-called chick lit author.

But Elizabeth Gilbert cannot be called a chick lit author.It would be a lie, even mean, to do that.

She’s a very perceptive and opinionated author with stubbornstreak to find facts that would back her personal opinions. And she’s very openand honest about it.

When Eat, Pray, Love became a bestseller book, I wanted toread it. Not because it’s a best-seller book, but because it has Bali in it,part of my country, my Indonesia.I know that Bali cannot be a representation ofmy whole country, but I still wanted to know what this writer said about a landthat I’ve visited few times.

But it was never meant to be. The day I bought the book, wasalso the day I lost it. I left the book somewhere, somehow, in the same hugemall that I bought it. I remember I almost cried out of frustration that day.And out of frustration, I decided I will never read that book, or buy it, forthat matter.

One day, on my last birthday, my friend and co-worker gaveme books. I had them for a year on display on my bookshelf, with their plasticcovers still on. Then out of the blue, a few weeks ago, I picked one up andopened the cover. I began to read it out of pity for my friend who gave it tome. But I was taken by surprise reading the first few pages. And then I washooked.

You see, I don’t believe in marriage. I think it’s overratedand messy, not to mention changing personalities across the world. I’mskeptical, suspicious, and pessimistic about marriage. But I have to getmarried. Next year, preferably by the end of next year. The pressure ismounting and like a person walking in the dark, I desperately need to find myway out, or in, whichever more comfortable.

Reading this book feels like a light bulb was turned on.Suddenly everything was clear. My mind’s clear, my mixed-up feelings are sortedout, my options became certain. I feel validated and assured. Reading it makesme feel like I can face next year with more sense, with preparation. I realizedthat I’ve been without any preparation for marriage, but now I know exactly thethings that I need to do.

At some point, after reading a few chapters, I felt a senseof depression and desperation sink in to me. I guess it was prettyoverwhelming, to read such intense book at such intense pace. But after awhile, I recovered. I began to read at much slower pace, and it helped to easethe intense feelings that came and gone.

My lesson learned after reading this book is that marriageis a very personal and very private experience. You can share it with anyone,even your spouse, but still, you cannot tell the meaning of every single frown,every single smile. It is that personal, that private part that peoplesometimes does not realize. Wedding, on the other hand, is not personal andit’s not private. You should have witnesses and share the happy event, not for yourown sake, but for everyone’s sake. Reading Committed made me realize thatpeople can have big wedding, but they should always have private, intimatemarriage. It also got me to think about the things that I should be doing to prepare my own wedding and marriage, in a proper way. My own ways, with my own terms.

Picture borrowed from here.

Games

2011-11-22T03:03:00.001-08:00

I'm not good at playing games
any kind of games

board games
online games
hide and seek games
power play

First of all,
I'm clumsy and awkward
I can't tell between my right hand
and my left foot

I can barely keep up
at exercise classes
let alone
memorizing all the moves

Second of all,
I'm a stubborn self-learner
who loves to excel at anything
that I try on

Therefore, I'm a sore loser
losing face, especially
and looking like a complete idiot
is not an option

So, let's quit playing games
and let me win, OK?

Picture borrowed from here.

Blood on the Sword

2011-11-17T02:05:00.001-08:00

Hate is such a strong word.

He hates my behavior. He hates what I've done, making him looked more vulnerable than he already is.

He hates my words. He hates my thoughts. He hates my opinion on him. He hates the fact that I was being honest.

And he knew it. He knows it.

The twisted thing is, he can't hate me. He will never be able to hate me.

The ambivalence alone has been tormenting him for months now.

So, I just wait. In my little corner. Quietly. Patiently. With my head bowed low.

I'm waiting for the wounds to heal. I've cleaned the blood from my sword. He still looks for the blood on his.

Picture borrowed from here.

Cancerous

2011-11-15T03:30:00.000-08:00

I have a personal experience with cancer. I also have my own personal opinion about cancer.

So, here is the first. One of my dearest aunts died of cancer. She was the youngest of nine siblings, and everyone adored her, including my mother, her sister. I used to spent school vacations in her home, just by myself. I would go to the market with her, or alone. I helped her with the cooking. I would ride her bicycle around her block and even farther. I once broke her glass coffee table, and was so terrified that I would get yelled at, but she didn't.

She's the youngest, most dearest sibling, and she died first. From the debilitating and devastating illness, no less. She was diagnosed when there was nothing any doctors could do to save her. She underwent the whole treatment regime. When I saw her for the last time, all I saw, heard, and felt was nothing but desperation. She had given up. And she told me, directly, straight-faced. When she died, her oldest son wouldn't even look at me, because I'd been told many times that I looked like her. I still have one of her pants in my wardrobe, and I still wear them regularly even though they are starting to wear off. I never thought I would love her like that, but I do. To this day, I still love her very, very much.

Now, the second part. I think cancer is not an illness. I think cancer is a state, not just physical but also mind and emotional, even behavior. Anything that feeds off on things that are healthy and nice, for me is cancer. When I read the Harry Potter series and reached to the part that introduced Dementor for the first time, the first thing that came to my mind was cancer.

Many researchers have been working with cancer for many years, without any conclusive (and comforting) results. I understand why. Cancer is personal. You cannot understand cancer without understanding the person with cancer. Every battle with cancer is different, and every success story is impossible to apply to other individual. I heard once that when people are diagnosed with cancer, they should choose how to face the battle right away.

For final words, I would dedicate this writing to one of my friend. Today I heard the news of her recent diagnose with a tongue cancer. I wish her the best. I believe she will fight her battle, ferociously and courageously.

Picture borrowed from here.

Demons

2011-11-13T19:49:00.001-08:00

Every day
I hope my demons
won't turn into
your demons

Last Saturday
was a wake up call
for me
hearing those words

Today
I'm scared
that someday humans
would turn
into each others

Tomorrow
I will clean
my mirrors
and look the other way

Picture borrowed from here.

My Obsession: Zombie Life

2011-11-05T07:22:00.000-07:00

I'm obsessed with this game Zombie Life. It's a kind of the Zombie Farm spin off. I just can't stop playing it.

My Furry Friend

2011-11-03T02:14:00.000-07:00

My favorite cat in the whole wide world: Lemes.

Sybil Exposed (?)

2011-10-31T21:53:00.000-07:00

In case you haven't know, I study psychology and some subjects in my area of study have been fascinated me for years. One of them is the Multiple Personality Disorder (MPD), which is now on DSM-IV falls under the sub-category of Dissociative Disorders. I find every rare case in psychology and psychiatry to be very interesting and can give so many opportunities to learn things you don't expect to learn from other cases.

But recent development is now showing that the case of Sybil, the most famous MPD patient, was a fabricated case. Debbie Nathan wrote it in her latest book, Sybil Exposed.

I haven't decide where I stand on this recent development. Perhaps if you are interested, please drop in and give comment on this issue.

For more information, you can go here and here.

The Sybil movie poster was borrowed from here.

My Pet Peeves

2011-10-27T18:35:00.000-07:00

I cannot stand women (and men, most definitely) who don't wash their hands after going to the bathroom. They all come in different shape, (dress) sizes, and price tags on their shoes and handbags. It grosses me out to see them walking out of the public bathroom without washing their hands. It especially gut-wrenching for me if they are dressed to kill, with famous and luxurious brands practically dripping at their toes.

Washing your hand with soap doesn't take a lot of time. It's not hard. And it's healthy. And it keeps your filthy hands that only God knows touched what, fairly clean. And it makes me less anxious about germs.

So, please, wash your hands, people. It won't kill you.

Picture borrowed from here.

In Case of Emergency

2011-10-23T07:58:00.000-07:00

Who would you call in case of an emergency?

The first time that question was asked to me was during filling my application for a life insurance. Yes, people, I have one. Surprise? Don't be.

I think everyone should know the answer to that question.

If you had an accident and assuming that you were not dead, yet, people who helped you would asked that question.

If someone put a knife or a gun on your throat and he/she (well, women can be the bad guys too, you know) told you to call someone to say your last words or for ransom, whose number would you dial?

I know, I know. I must sound like a crazy paranoid bitch or someone who watches too many bad cop films. But, the scenario is possible. I believe that anything is possible to happen, to anyone.

Well, other than the official emergency number, I'd call someone who wouldn't be panicked (a little panicked is tolerable) in dealing with a crisis. Someone who will not threat or lash out the bad guys. Someone who can negotiate. Someone with many means and tricks up his/her sleeves. Both sleeves, obviously. And yes, my emergency contact could be female. Women can be calm too, if we want too. Right, ladies?

Last but not least, my emergency contact should be someone who would do almost anything in my best interest.

So, who is your emergency contact? And no, your pet doesn't count.

Picture borrowed from here.

Hang Up Hang Out

2011-10-20T22:53:00.000-07:00

I do not feel comfortable

hearing the click

every time people hang up the phone

It feels like

an unintentional

rejection

Shutting me out

from

their world

When all I want

is hanging out

a bit longer

Picture borrowed from here.

Listening

2011-10-20T22:43:00.000-07:00

My friend asked me why it is so tiring tolisten to other people’s problem. He said, “You just sit there and listen. Howhard can it be?”

Obviously, he never really listens to otherpeople’s problem.

To really listen, people need not only theirears, but also their emotional stability.

When faced with problems, human beingsusually would show signs of anger, sadness, disappointment, confusion, ordoubt. Or all of the above.

Those feelings, will drain the energy, thewillingness to listen, the patience, and affect the listeners’ feelings.

That is why all professional and competentpsychiatrist and psychologist limit their time talking to their clients. It’snot because of their incompetence or the feeling of importance, but theirthreshold.

Mental health workers with plenty ofexperiences usually have a higher endurance and patience of seeing moreclients. But not me. My number is three, max. More than that, I’ll jump fromthe tenth floor where I work.

If you want to know how hard it is tolisten to other people, why not try? Listen to your nagging parents. Listen toyour spouse about the traffic and annoying boss. Listen to your friendsbragging about their kids. Listen to cab drivers’ many great stories as the carsqueezing into the heavy traffic. Listen to your children babbling.

Try to really listen. Sit back. Be quiet.Do not say a word without being asked. Listen until they’re out of breath andout of ideas. For at least fifteen minutes, just listen.

If after half an hour you don’t want tobolt as fast as you can, I’d worshiped you.

Picture borrowed from here.

I Do Not Miss My 20's

2011-10-19T08:08:00.000-07:00

Don't give me wrong, being a 20 something was a lot of fun. Why? Jeez, if you're asking that question, there can only be two options. One, you're not in your 20s yet. Two, you had a boring life in your 20's.

Many spiritual leaders and gurus are relentlessly trying so hard to get people to live in the moment, in the present time. You cannot live in the past, because it's already been done. And you cannot live in the future, because all you'd ever talk about haven't happen yet. Presence doesn't always mean being here at this exact moment. Presence also means being aware of yourself and your surroundings.

So, what's the connection between our past, present, and future?

I'm still trying to find the answer. I hope I'll find it soon enough.

But, rest assure, I don't miss my 20's. It's painful to see myself as indecisive, gloomy, angry young woman. I just realized it lately, from talking too many times with my students and ex students, all in their 20's. Listening to their stories painfully reminded me of who I was, at their age.

I just hope I've learned my lessons.

Picture borrowed from here.

Obsession: Overcoat

2011-10-17T05:39:00.000-07:00

I'm obsessed with overcoat.m I think overcoat is the most stylist wardrobe item anyone could ever have. Don't give me wrong, I'm also obsessed with boots, but not as bad as overcoat.

My first ever overcoat is from Gap. I bought it in a factory outlet in Bandung. My second overcoat is from Elfa (local brand), pale brown, almost ivory. My third one is custom made, checkered (blue, white, red) with a zipper in front. My father gave me the fabric.

The weird part is, I rarely wear overcoat. There are several reasons. One, I live in the tropic where it is so unusual for people to wear overcoat. You'll be sweating like a pig if you do. Second, nobody wears overcoat here (if they smart and don't want to be sweating like pigs). So, wearing one would draw many unnecessary attention (well, at least for me it would be unnecessary). I hate being the center of attention, because like I said so many times before, I'm quite shy (and no, all of you who are disagreeing are not my significant others and you are mean!). Third, most overcoat are expensive. To wear them often means I have to repeatedly buy them.

Even though I don't own that many, it doesn't stop me from looking at them lovingly. Here are some of my favorites, from various sources.

Lion VS Garuda

2011-10-16T20:53:00.000-07:00

My father is known for his jokes. Not all of them are nice or hilarious, but he never gets tired of trying. He successfully always makes me cringed with his attempts. This is one of them, in a family gathering, of all places! Last Saturday Wahyu, my boyfriend, brought his family to meet with my family for the very first time. His family's flown from another city and their flight was delayed and their luggage was misplaced. In short, they were really late. As they told their stories of why it took them so long to get to the meeting, my father was building his joke.

Father: What airline did you all use?

Wahyu's father: Lion Air.

Father: And what airline will you all use tomorrow for going home?

Wahyu's mother: Garuda (=some kind of Eagle. In India, it is a mythological creature with wings, the carrier of god Vishnu).

Father: Well, it's understandable that you're all late now. You won't be late tomorrow, though.

Wahyu's mother: Why is that?

Father: Lion doesn't have wings, it cannot fly. Garuda has wings, and can fly. So, don't worry.

Picture borrowed from here.

Molly

2011-10-15T10:48:00.000-07:00

All I have left is the bare essentials.

To survive. To breathe. To push a button.

While the rest of the world is babbling away nothingness into my ears, I can only nod.

The truth of the matter is, I'm just so damn cranky and I would like everyone to know that.

When I walk, please make way. When I talk, everyone better listens.

No one has any idea how messed up I am actually.

I've spent my whole life dealing with rejection and abandonment. They're practically inside my veins. They just won't go away.

So, if you expect me to be nice, gooey, chewy, sweet, savoury, lovey dovey girly kind of person, just bolt. Right away. I'll even give you the money to buy the plane ticket.

I may be quiet. I probably won't say much. But don't give me wrong.

My blows are just as hard as my silence. And my heart is just as weak as my excuses.

Picture borrowed from here.

Fom The Window Seat

2011-10-11T11:32:00.000-07:00

An Open Letter

2011-10-10T20:28:00.000-07:00

Dear reader,

I'm sorry to say that I won't be posting anything for the next few days. I have some things that need to be taking care of and it would take every last drop of my energy to do them. So, I'll post some work again in a couple of days, hopefully it won't be taking me too long.

Thank you so much for reading. It means a lot.

Sincerely,
Dina

A Five Year Old Girl on a Bus

2011-10-10T03:08:00.000-07:00

Ever since I was a little girl, for as long as I can remember, I never had a problem using a public transportation.

I love telling the story of when I was five years old and my parents made me take the bus all by myself for an hour long ride to school. I was in the kindergarten, and they didn't have a problem sending me all alone to a bus, full of strangers. I don't know what was going through their head for doing that. I had to take the bus ride in the morning and my mother or our domestic assistant would pick me and my siblings up at school the afternoon.

Maybe my parents were really that trusting. Maybe they were crazy. Maybe they just didn't care that much about their children. I even sometimes doubt that they remember ever doing that to me.

For whatever reason, I will always be grateful for that experience.

I'm well aware that in Indonesia, most of public transportation are horrific to endure. But for most people, they have no choice but using them. I can't help but cringed every time I see overcapacity buses or people sitting on top of the train. It amazes me that people can push themselves to the extend that they cannot even move their fingers inside a bus or a train, like bunch of cattle being taken to slaughterhouse.

I really think we ought to learn from Thailand in order to solve public transportation issues. They managed to reduce the traffic jam by adding more means of transportation, including waterway transportation.

Back to my gratitude. I'm grateful that my parents made me take public transportation as young as I was. It made me more aware of my surroundings early on. Let's call it my roots of observation skills. It also made me more creative in trying to find a way to entertain myself. I remember I used to play staring games with anyone that I found interesting whenever I was bored to death in the bus (I almost always win, of course, thanks to my stubborn head and unwillingness to lose). I learned to categorize people. I also learned to take care of myself while on the road. I got my skills of writing and reading on the road by using public transportation, during the long hours of commuting. Yes people, I once did my homework on a moving vehicle.

Using public transportation in Indonesia taught me to prepare to face almost anything. I once got stuck inside a bus while some students were fighting. It was really, really scary because huge rocks were thrown everywhere and there were people hurting and bleeding. Looking back, I remember I was trying to act as calmly as possible as I got off the bus and went to the nearest bus stop. I also learned to always travel with some basic necessities (water, food/candy/chocolate, flash light, matches, and a pocket knife). I started to carry a pocket knife when i was about 11 or 12, and it always gives me such great pleasure to see the horror look on people's faces whenever I pull it out from my bag. Yeah, I'm always come packing, guys!

So, now, in my 30's, whenever someone asks me whether I will be OK travelling alone using public transportation, all alone, during night time, I will tell them that story about a five year old girl who was sent to school by bus for an hour long commute, every morning, for about three years. If that is not enough, I will tell another story about how a 21 year old female who travelled from Jakarta to Ambarawa then continued to Bali, changing buses and ferryboat, all by herself. But, that's another story, for next time.

Picture borrowed from here.

Dead Awakening

2011-10-09T08:19:00.000-07:00

Day One

The room was dark. All windows were covered with blackpapers taped to the sill. The air conditioner was on full blast, making theroom achingly freezing. The cat was on the carpeted floor, curling up and notmoving.

She also was not moving. Under the heavy bed cover, she’sbarely breathing. On the side table, a bottle of almost empty Jack was standingproudly, as if claiming its glory upon her. The dark room was listless, almostlifeless.

Inside her brain, it was another story. It’s filled withflashes of faces, rainbows of emotions. She saw his face alternating with herfaded face. She felt anger, shock, sadness, sorrow.

Inside her right hand was a pocket knife. She was thinkingof using it early, to cut herself. But she decided that it would be too messyand she was too lazy to clean up everything after.

So she finally let Jack out of its closet. And it did itsjob, beautifully.

She needed to feel nothing.

Day Two

“What’s wrong with me? I must have done something wrong tohave him leaving me for someone else? What? Huh? No, you tell me, because I foronce have no fucking clue!”

Day Three

“Yes, I know that, Lance. I’m still not feeling well. No,please, don’t bother to come over. I’ll be fine tomorrow and I promise I’llfinish everything on time, don’t worry.”

Day Four

Celia, her best friend, entered the room with a bang. Celiaalways does things with a bang, like a firecracker on crack.

“Get up, Sam. It’s been too long. You need to wake up. Andyou need a bath, badly. Oh my God, don’t tell me you forget to feed Cass? Hemade a mess in the kitchen and his dry food was all over the floor. And hislitter box was a nightmare.”

“Get out of my room, Cel. I want to rot in here till the dayI die.”

“Yeah, like it’s going to happen soon. I won’t let you diebefore me, because you have to grieve for me, not the other way around, OK?”

After cleaning up and putting down all the black papers fromthe windows, Celia finally be able to drag her best friend’s sorry ass to thebathroom and make her wash away her four days of nothingness.

Day Five

“Yes, my name is Samantha and I’d like to order yourservice. Is it possible to come this afternoon or should I wait for a couple ofdays? Oh, you have a cancellation at three? Great, I’ll be there. Thank you somuch.”

Day Six-Last Day

She sat there waiting for them to arrive. In front of herlaid a white thick envelope. In it, paperwork of the procedure she enduredyesterday. She had no regret, no remorse. She wanted them to feel the emptinessshe felt of losing him, and their unborn children. Because she liked to shareeverything, just like he like to share his affection to as many women aspossible.

In a few moment, she would be ready to live again.

Picture borrowed from here.

Stamp

2011-10-08T10:44:00.000-07:00

I think I need another stamp on my passport.

I want to visit another country. I want to taste the foreignair and foreign food.

Even water can taste different in another land.

I think I need to go next year. Or at the end of this year,if possible.

I envy anyone with lots of stamp on their passport. I evenhate anyone who brags about it.

To be able to speak English fluently and not use it, I thinkit’s such a waste.

That’s one of the main reasons why I think I need anotherstamp on my passport.

Picture borrowed from here.

Nails, Tails, Horns, and Tentacles

2011-10-02T22:58:00.000-07:00

Doing things that you don't normally do will always be weird and unnatural. Like using your left hand (when you're not a lefty). Or putting your shoes on backward.

It's been two months now since I took the job. The room started to feel mine. The computer is still giving me headache sometimes. I like the quiet atmosphere. I like the view from the large windows outside my office.

But the work is still an alien. I never consider myself as people person. I'm more of a children person. Or a cat person. Or a dog person. It will feel so much better if all I have to do everyday is play with children and pet.

Yet, my job deals with the real world. It's cruel and unforgiving. It will force anyone to grow nails, tails, horns, and even tentacles to survive. It will slap you on the wrist, on your face, on your butt. The real world hurts.

The real world will not wait for you to grow up in your own pace. It will make you run like all hell broke lose.

I'm trying to run now. I still fell behind sometimes. I might need some help along the way. But I'm trying. Hard.

If you are not willing to help me get up and run again, please move out of the way and don't step on me. Thank you.

Picture of nails borrowed from here.

Novelty Junkie

2011-10-01T22:14:00.000-07:00

I constantly need to get away.

I guess I'm the perfect example of Fromm's concept: escape from freedom.

Being in a certain state for long period of time never makes me uncomfortable. I'm a junkie for novelty.

I like doing things that I've never tried before. I like visiting new places. I like trying new food.

But not with people. I love my friends, and most of them I've known for years and years. I never get tired of them.

I don't like meeting new people. The awkwardness, the fake smiles, the forced laughter. I always look silly doing it. It's so uncomfortable.

In a couple of days, I'd be off in a very, very short trip. It's not really planned. But still, any chance I have to escape would be priceless.

I want to bring nothing but one bag, and it would be enough. I want to skip the long wait at the check-in counter and go straight to the cabin.

I'd visit places I've never been to. I'd dine in unfamiliar places. But I wouldn't want to meet anyone new. I just want to be by myself, and people that I know and love.

Picture borrowed from here.

The Horror and the Tuberose

2011-10-01T06:31:00.000-07:00

She said goodbye to her friends at the movie viewing. It wasgetting late and even though the main event hadn’t start yet, she knew that shehad to go home. She kissed her girlfriends and walked to the main gate. Thecold wind came and made her shiver a bit. The wrap she wore helped, but shestill didn’t prepare for the ambush.

She stopped a taxi and got in. She decided to take the lasttrain home. It would be faster than anything. Inside, she said three shortgraces for a peaceful night. There were rumors some nights before opening nightthat some religious fanatics were planning to ruin the movie viewing. Sherarely said grace, but thought that tonight deserved an exception.

When the taxi made a turn left, she froze. The street namesign was clearly visible. She felt like the air inside her lungs was gonecompletely. She started gasping for air. Then the tears rolled out. Sheclutched the headrest of the front seat. The driver was starting to panickedand asked frantically, “Miss, are you OK?”

She pounded on the headrest, shouting. “Turn around, turnaround, NOW!”

The driver shouted back, “We can’t turn around, this is aone way street! Are you OK? Should we stop here?”

She suddenly realized that she was being overdramatic. She inhaleddeeply and sat back. “Just hurry up.”

She glanced out of the window, and at that exact moment, regretteddoing it. The clinic was there, unchanged from four years ago. It was fouryears ago that she laid there, inside one of its rooms, terrified for her life.She even remembered asking timidly for a nurse to hold her hand through out theordeal. Luckily, the nurse said yes and stood there beside her through it all.

It was one of the scariest days of her entire life. And thesaddest day, ever.

She tried to even her breathing, with little luck. Shefinally took a deep breath as the taxi turned left and out of the hellholestreet of her deepest and darkest secret. As the taxi approached the trainstation, she gathered the money needed to pay the driver. She knew that she hadto give him a huge tip for scarring him with her screaming before.

As she got out, she caught the sweet smell of her favoriteflower, tuberose. She adored tuberose as a child, seeing and smelling theflowers in her grandmother’s house. The smell always reminded her of calmfeeling inside. Her grandmother’s smile was clearly in her mind then.

She wiped the tears on her face with a handkerchief, andwalked to one of the flower stalls. She asked for the tuberose and handed somemoney. The guy gave her five and offered to cut the long stem for her. Sheshook her head and said thank you. She would cut the flowers herself, just likeher grandmother always did.

As she held the flowers and smelled them, instantly she feltbetter. It was like the nightmares, the memories, and the terrors were neverhappened. She smiled and whispered softly, “Thanks, Grandma.”

Depok, October 1, 2011

The picture of tuberose was borrowed from here.

Beautiful Zombie

2011-09-30T20:12:00.000-07:00

I saw her everywhere.
Inside the elevator. Sitting on the bench. At the coffee shop.

Seeing her reminds me of him.
Her crush.

She used to kind of stalk him secretly. She read his profile and updates almost religiously. She remembered his schedule. She tried to talk to him, repeatedly. And failing, always entirely. She talked to his obnoxious friends because she didn't have the guts to even stand near him.

She once even tried followed him home. Like a kitten who lost its mother and cling to every moving and breathing creature around. But she couldn't. So she did the next best thing: bribed the administration staff to give her his address.
It felt like finding the cure for cancer. She could finally sleep with a smile on her face.

She changed her daily route. She chose to linger near his house in the morning, hoping to catch a glimpse of him washing his bike or picking up the newspaper. He lived alone, apparently. At such young age.

She was glad that she knew things nobody knew about him.
How he sneezed when he came out of the house too early. How he yawned without closing his mouth. How perfectly aligned his teeth were. How his hair fell in a messy but sexy way on his face.

Until one day, he disappeared. One morning, he didn't come out. She waited all day and through the night. Until the next morning. He just stopped coming out.
She asked questions. She threw threats around. She cursed. She yelled and cried.
Nothing.

After a month of nothing, she finally gave up. She decided it was time to move on. To the next prey.
But nobody was good enough. No one else was quite like him.

So she stopped living entirely. She barely survive.
When I see her these days, I see nothing.
He was her fuel. When he was gone, she halted.
When I see her eyes, I see a vast empty space that used to be filled with him only.

How I wish I could tell her that he's alive and well, living at my place.

Picture borrowed from here.

Teman: Sisca

2011-09-28T07:38:00.000-07:00

Saya hari ini mau cerita tentang Sisca. Sisca itu teman saya yang sama-sama bekerja di Auto2000. Saya jadi psikolog, Sisca jadi tester dan korektor.

Saya biasanya pintar memilah-milah orang yang saya kenal. Ada yang masuk kategori teman. Teman aja kategorinya macem-macem. Ada teman dekat yang bisa saya ceritain (bukan dongengin ya) tentang berbagai hal, mulai dari yang penting sampai yang garing. Ada teman kerja yang cuma berinteraksi kalau ada kerjaan aja. Ada teman buat hura-hura aja. Ada teman minimalis yang gak butuh di-maintain secara reguler, tapi kalau gue perlu pasti mereka ada.

Nah, Sisca itu termasuk yang teman kerja tetapi juga cukup dekat. Walau kami hanya ketemu pas saya ada kerjaan di Auto2000, tapi kami hampir selalu pulang bareng. Pada saat pulang bareng itulah, kami banyak ngobrol, ngalor ngidul aja kaya gak ada berhentinya.

Saya juga kadang heran, mengapa saya secara alamiah bisa memilah-milah teman berdasarkan cocok gaknya ngobrol sama saya. Saya baru sadar, sebenarnya saya dan Sisca gak terlalu punya banyak kesamaan yang mendasar, tapi kami bisa ngobrol apa saja. Dia bawel, saya juga bisa bawel. Itu yang membuat saya heran. Saat berinteraksi dengan orang-orang tertentu, saya bisa tiba-tiba jadi sangat bersemangat untuk membicarakan apapun. Padahal, pada dasarnya saya pendiam dan pemalu (eh, jangan ngakak dong, serius ini).

Kalau sedang ngobrol dengan Sisca, saya juga tiba-tiba bisa jadi sangat lucu. Kami bisa terbahak-bahak sampai menciptakan kebisingan di manapun kami sedang berada. Sisca juga sering tertawa karena komentar-komentar asal-asalan saya yang sudah lelah karena seharian melakukan wawancara. Saya juga gak ngerti kenapa saya hanya bisa lucu kalau sedang bersama orang-orang tertentu saja. Mungkin sebenarnya saya punya bakat jadi comedian, tapi udah terlanjur jadi psikolog. Yah, menjelaskan sih mengapa pertama kali saya tes archetype kok munculnya Jester, hahaha...

Sisca itu salah satu dari sedikit sekali teman yang saya bela-belain datang ke pemberkatan pernikahannya. Sisca itu ramah, baik hati, tidak sombong, dan selalu senyum (kebalikan dari saya bangetlah, hehehe). Sisca itu tester dan korektor super yang kalau koreksi udah gak pakai contekan, karena udah hafal jawabannya.

Nanti kalau saya menikah, saya mau Sisca datang. Sisca boleh duduk paling depan, sama suaminya yang juga baik hati dan sering senyum dan setia mengantar dan menjemput dirinya, hehehe. Tapi anak-anaknya jangan dibawa ya Sis, nanti rame gonggongan, gue bisa salah ngucapin janji pernikahan, berabe.

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Perempuan Perkasa

2011-09-27T06:58:00.000-07:00

Hari ini saya bertemu (kembali) dengan dua orang perempuan luar biasa. Perempuan pertama adalah pengusaha yang mudah tersentuh saat melihat anak-anak menyanyikan lagu rohani di tempat ibadah. Perempuan kedua wajahnya sangat mirip dengan Bude saya, kakak Mama. Ia pensiunan akuntan yang sampai sekarang masih sibuk bekerja, sampai tidak sempat membantu anak perempuannya membuat resume untuk melamar pekerjaan.

Mereka bekerja di sebuah lembaga yang memberikan pendampingan serta bagi perempuan dan anak (bahkan laki-laki) korban Kekerasan Dalam Rumah Tangga (KDRT). Pengalaman saya bertemu dan bekerja dengan korban KDRT baik selama di perkuliahan maupun pada saat bekerja membuat saya kagum dengan dua perempuan ini. Mereka bisa memilih untuk melakukan karya sosial yang lain, misalnya dengan anak-anak atau dengan lansia. Akan tetapi mereka memilih korban KDRT yang penuh tantangan dan sangat kompleks.

Selama kurang lebih empat jam saya menghabiskan waktu bersama mereka dan salah seorang klien yang mereka rujuk ke saya. Selama empat jam itu pulalah mereka berbicara tentang banyak hal. Ajaibnya, 90% dari empat jam tersebut, mereka membicarakan pekerjaan sosial terkait korban KDRT.

Setahu saya sih, orang yang menikmati pekerjaan mereka, akan melakukan apa yang mereka lakukan. They eat and breathe their job. Saya juga memperhatikan ekspresi wajah, bahasa tubuh, dan nada suara mereka yang bersemangat dan antusias setiap kali membicarakan mengenai potensi setiap klien yang pernah mereka temui.

Satu hal yang saya salut. Mereka tidak terlihat mengasihani para klien yang mereka bicarakan. Mereka membicarakan para klien ini seperti layaknya mereka berbicara tentang suami, anak, cucu mereka. Mereka bisa menyampaikan kekesalan jika ada klien yang menyebalkan, atau memuji klien yang sudah berhasil melampaui krisis dalam hidup mereka. Mereka memperlakukan para klien tidak seperti korban, tetapi seperti manusia biasa. Mereka juga tampil seperti manusia biasa, bukan malaikat penyelamat.

Para pekerja kemanusiaan bisa belajar lebih banyak dari Ibu Vero dan Ibu Endang, dua perempuan perkasa yang bekerja sebagai manusia, dan memperlakukan klien mereka sebagai manusia.

Berita tentang Rumah Kita dapat dilihat di sini.

Gambar dipinjam dari sini.

Unexpected Insight

2011-09-26T07:11:00.000-07:00

Insight terbaik kadang datang tanpa diduga.

Hari ini saya rencananya memang hanya untuk melakukan tugas-tugas kemagisteran. Jadilah saya mengirim email, menelepon, membaca file-file, dan menyiapkan kasus-kasus untuk pembekalan di minggu depan.

Saya teringat perlu bertanya beberapa hal kepada seorang rekan kerja. Beliau yang tahu detil-detil tugas yang sedang saya kerjakan. Saya akhirnya mengirim SMS karena ia tidak ada di tempat. Saya bertanya, apakah saya boleh mengganggunya sebentar lewat SMS atau saya bisa telepon. Jawabannya singkat, telepon saja.

Tanpa ragu saya menelepon. Suara rekan saya terdengar ceria dan bersemangat seperti biasa. Pertanyaan saya semua dijawabnya tanpa kesulitan dan dengan detil. Tidak ada yang terdengar salah. Sampai akhirnya terjadi dialog berikut.

Saya: Mbak sedang di mana? Di kantor atau di rumah?

Rekan: Aku sedang di rumah sakit.

Saya: Loh, siapa yang sakit, Mbak? Anak Mbak?

Rekan: Aku.

Saya: Hah? Sakit apa, Mbak? (dengan suara mulai panik dan merasa bersalah menelepon orang sakit)

Rekan: Kata dokter sih serangan jantung ringan.

Saya: (gubrak, speechless).

Akhirnya saya malah banyak bertanya mengenai kronologis masuknya rekan saya ke rumah sakit. Rekan saya ini sebenarnya dari luar nampak sehat dan selalu ceria. Akan tetapi beberapa hari sebelumnya, ia mengalami nyeri di bagian dada. Setelah diperiksa dokter, ia disarankan untuk beristirahat di rumah sakit untuk diobservasi hingga hari ini. Tadi sore ia menjalani CT Scan jantung untuk memastikan kondisinya memang tidak serius. Kabar terakhir tadi lewat SMS, beliau menyatakan dirinya sepertinya baik-baik saja.

Pembicaraan tadi siang dengan rekan saya memberikan beberapa pelajaran yang sangat berharga. Bahwa lebih baik menjaga kesehatan sebelum terlambat. Bahwa orang yang terlihat sehat dan ceria belum tentu bebas penyakit. Bahwa pemeriksaan kesehatan secara rutin itu sangat penting.

Satu pelajaran yang terpenting di atas semuanya adalah bahwa manusia biasanya akan lebih menghargai berbagai hal yang mereka miliki saat mereka sadar bahwa hidup itu rapuh dan dapat berhenti kapan saja.

Tell your significant others how precious they are to you, before it's too late.

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Fellow Feeling

2011-09-24T08:47:00.000-07:00

I'm not easily moved. By anything.

People who know me best probably sometimes think I'm heartless or cold. Yes, I can be sarcastic and cynical. I said things which were harsh and sometimes hurt other people.

But seeing one of my former teachers, crying in front of his deceased friend, was something else.

To read more, please go here.

Picture borrowed from here.

Pelatihan Pengembangan Diri Siswa dan Guru (YPB)*

2011-09-23T21:07:00.000-07:00

Tahun ini sebenarnya saya tidak ingin ikut kegiatan ini. Selain karena alasan pribadi, terus terang saya merasa agak jenuh dan perlu off terlibat karena sudah ikut tiap tahun sejak 2007.

Akan tetapi, ketika ada permintaan ke saya untuk mengisi salah satu jadwal pelatihan guru SMP, entah kenapa, saya tidak bisa menolak. Sampai muncul pertanyaan, Aming pakai susuk atau jimat apa ya sampai bisa membuat saya yang luar biasa keras kepala menyetujui ikut YPB tahun ini.

Saya ingat sehari sebelumnya packing sambil bersungut-sungut karena ada yang berulang kali menyuruh saya tidur supaya tidak terlambat bangun. Biasanya para mahasiswa dan dosen yang terlibat pelatihan ini memang harus berkumpul di kampus jam 06.00. Kecepatan packing saya memang di bawah rata-rata orang pada umumnya, karena saya tidak ingin ada yang tertinggal. Tengah malam saya baru bisa tidur, masih dengan kondisi kesal.

Saat berangkat, saya ingat memilih untuk duduk di bagian belakang mobil yang mengantar kami ke Cimacan. Saya memilih untuk sendirian, membaca kembali modul, dan mendengarkan musik melaluiearphone. Saya ingat sempat berpikir, sepertinya ini akan jadi YPB yang paling tidak menyenangkan, saya akan terus kesal, dan kinerja saya pasti tidak optimal. Saya bahkan tidak berbicara dengan Ganis, co-fasilitator saya. Padahal di tahun-tahun sebelumnya, saya selalu duduk di mobil bersama co-fas saya dan membahas modul bersama.

Saat tiba di Wisma YPB, saya melihat tempat yang sangat saya kenal, masih seperti setahun yang lalu. Saya melihat teman-teman mahasiswa dan dosen yang tengah mempersiapkan penutupan, berseliweran. Mereka terlihat sibuk, dan senang. Capek, tapi tetap tersenyum.

Saya baru sadar, betapa pelatihan ini adalah salah satu aspek terbaik dari pekerjaan saya. Saya punya kesempatan untuk mengubah sesuatu. Saya punya peluang untuk berbagi ilmu dan pengalaman. Saya diberi hak istimewa untuk belajar dari orang lain. Saya luar biasa beruntung bisa bekerja dan mengenal berbagai macam orang, dari berbagai latar belakang dan usia.

Pada saat itulah, di bawah pohon jambu bol dengan anggrek merpati yang tumbuh di batangnya, tempat lonceng tanda pergantian sesi digantungkan, saya merasa malu.

Tidak semestinya saya bersungut-sungut dan kesal. Tidak semestinya saya datang dengan berbagai asumsi negatif. Ini saatnya saya bisa belajar berbagai hal. Ini salah satu alasan mengapa saya sangat mencintai pekerjaan saya. Ini saatnya saya bisa berkreasi, bersenang-senang, tertawa, dan berbagi dengan orang lain.

Terima kasih atas insight-nya. Terima kasih untuk empat hari tiga malam yang kembali menyenangkan dan memperkaya saya. Terima kasih atas co-fasilitator yang menyenangkan dan sangat membantu. Terima kasih untuk rekan dosen tempat berbagi cerita. Terima kasih untuk para guru yang luar biasa kooperatif dan membuat saya beberapa kali merasa terhibur. Terima kasih para mahasiswa yang bekerja dengan tawa dan hati yang terbuka.

Terima kasih telah menyadarkan saya bahwa tahun ini bisa lebih baik dari tahun kemarin.

*Tulisan ini pertama kali muncul di Facebook Notes Sabtu, 24 September 2011, 11.00 AM.

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Grounded

2011-09-23T01:01:00.000-07:00

Overwhelmed is the state that I'm in whenever I face too many faces
to greet
to smile at
to see

Whenever I'm in a crowded places, I try not to look at faces
instead,
I choose to stare
at feet

It's much more comforting
to see that those faces
have feet
that touch the ground

Picture borrowed from here.

Kembali

2011-09-18T02:00:00.000-07:00

Rasanya seperti ditampar. Pipiku mungkin kini merah, dengan rasa sakit imaginer yang terasa panas dan pedih sekaligus.

Aku menatap lekat-lekat profil wajah yang berlutut di sampingku. Mulutnya komat-kamit, tetapi sungguh, aku tidak memahami sepatah katapun yang keluar dari mulutnya.

Aku hanya bisa mencium bau tubuhnya. Campuran antara parfum dan keringat dan bau matahari. Bau tubuhnya yang sangat mirip dengan baumu.

“Jadi begitu, Bu. Saya juga tidak tahu kenapa layar monitor Ibu bisa mati seperti ini, tapi saya sudah coba perbaiki dan sekarang sudah bisa menyala kembali. Kalau ada apa-apa, silakan telepon ke kantor saja, nanti saya langsung datang.”

Aku masih menatapnya.

“Bu? Bu Prita? Ada lagi yang bisa saya bantu?”

Ia sudah berdiri. Mas Nugi dari bagian perawatan. Mas Nugi yang santun dan sederhana, tidak banyak bicara, dan selalu bersedia membantu. Mas Nugi yang Jawa banget.

Apakah semua laki-laki baunya sama?

Terakhir kali aku mencium baumu adalah saat kita berpelukan, di stasiun kereta. Aku ingat tidak ingin menatap wajahmu, tetapi aku sengaja memelukmu lebih lama dari biasanya. Aku ingin mengingat baumu, bukan wajahmu. Semua fotomu telah kuturunkan dari dinding dan lemari, kusimpan rapi dalam sebuah kotak, lalu kutaruh di lemari pakaian bagian terbawah. Kupikir baumu tidak akan muncul di manapun. Kupikir aku akan aman sampai akhir tahun, saat kau pulang nanti.

Ternyata aku salah. Ternyata masih ada Mas Nugi.

Ingin rasanya aku memeluk Mas Nugi, menghirup aroma tubuhnya yang mirip bau tubuhmu. Ingin rasanya meminta Mas Nugi menanggalkan seragamnya untukku, agar aku bisa membawanya pulang dan meletakkannya di sebelah bantalku saat kutidur. Agar aku tahu rasanya dekat denganmu.

“Bu Prita kenapa? Kok diam saja? Apa sedang kurang sehat?”

Ekspresi khawatir Mas Nugi akhirnya menyeretku kembali ke dunia nyata. Suara Mas Nugi berbeda dengan suaramu. Suara Mas Nugi berat, bas. Suaramu bariton dengan warna yang lembut. Setiap mendengar suaramu, aku membayangkan tas berbahan suede-ku yang bertekstur halus dan berwarna cokelat muda.

“Tidak apa-apa, Mas. Terima kasih. Nanti kalau ada apa-apa, saya pasti menghubungi Mas kembali.”

Setelah Mas Nugi keluar, aku berjalan perlahan mengitari ruanganku. Aku mencari sisa aroma Mas Nugi, berusaha sekuat tenaga membawamu kembali.

Depok, Minggu, 18 September 2011

Gambar dipinjam dari sini.

Intertwine

2011-09-16T20:53:00.001-07:00

you're trying to build your life

I'm trying to rebuild mine

we can't meet in the middle

because we're not even intertwined.

Picture borrowed from here.

Associate alias Asonger

2011-09-16T02:09:00.000-07:00

Buat yang belum tau (ya iyalah, kalau udah tau ngapain dikasih tau?), selain bekerja di satu universitas swasta, saya juga bekerja di satu perusahaan otomotif, Head Office, di Sunter. Kerja tetap? Tentu tidak, saya belum semumpuni amuba yang bisa membelah diri. Di satu perusahaan otomotif tersebut, saya bekerja sebagai seorang associate.

Associate dapat diartikan sebagai a person who joins with others in some activity or endevor. Karena bukan di law firm (associate VS partner), posisi saya setara dengan rekan-rekan psikologi lain yang juga bekerja di sana. Associate di sini artinya saya adalah psikolog luar yang diminta jasanya untuk melakukan tugas-tugas seorang psikolog di perusahaan tersebut, tanpa harus menjadi karyawan di sana.

Associate istilah kerennya. Asonger istilah gaulnya (halah!). Kenapa disebut asonger? Karena sih, sepertinya (ini interpretasi sebebas-bebasnya saya sendiri loh) karena psikolog lepas harus rajin menawarkan jasanya ke berbagai pihak, supaya ditawari pekerjaan. Ya kan kalau harus bayar pasang iklan mahal. Ngapain juga pasang baliho gede (atau pengumuman kecil-kecil di pohon atau di pintu angkot, setaraf iklan badut sulap dan obat segala penyakit dari kesambet sampai keputihan): "Sedia layanan pemeriksaan dan penanganan psikologis untuk klien normal maupun abnormal, hubungi Dinastuti, SIPP no *****, HP 08****" Mending tiap kenalan langsung sodorin kartu nama, murah meriah (tapi gak murahan, apalagi gampangan).

Jadi asonger di perusahaan besar itu menyenangkan buat saya. Ngantor gak harus tiap hari, kerjaan bisa diselesaikan di rumah (sambil pakai sarung dan kaos singlet, ngetiknya kaki naik ke kursi), kalau untung dapat lunch, snack, dan dinner, boleh datang siang, gaji gede. Saya hanya bisa bersyukur punya nasib untung dan seorang teman bernama Jamil yang merekomendasikan saya ke koordinator psikolog lepas di satu perusahaan otomotif tersebut sewaktu saya lulus Magister Profesi.

Gak enaknya jadi asonger? Ada dong. Saya paling gak nyaman jadi asonger karena datangnya gaji yang tidak menentu, yah sama kayak sebagian datang bulannya perempuan yang gak teratur. Bukan apa-apa, deg-degannya itu loh. Gak kuat saya. Pokoknya segala sesuatu yang nyaris itu selalu sukses bikin jantung saya berasa mau copot: nyaris dapat nilai D, nyaris gol, nyaris jadian, dan nyaris bokek.

Saya ingat pernah uang di dompet saya (dan di ATM) tinggal sepuluh ribu rupiah kalau digabung. Jumlah segitu waktu itu cukup untuk sekali makan amat sangat sederhana. Sampai sempat mikir pengen gak tau malu aja minta ditraktir saudara saya, biar uangnya utuh sampai besok. Malamnya, saya dapat telepon, honor enam bulan sudah ditransfer. Saya langsung bisa tidur nyenyak (dan sepertinya sambil senyum-senyum gak jelas sampai pagi).

Masih ada satu lagi gak enaknya jadi asonger: manajemen waktu. Asonger bekerja pasti ada tenggat waktunya, seperti pekerja tetap. Masalahnya, seorang asonger harus ingat segala jenis tenggat waktu untuk pekerjaan yang beda-beda. Misalnya, "Yang rekrutmen posisi X untuk perusahaan Y tolong laporannya didahulukan ya, yang dari perusahaan Z mah belakangan aja." Sebagai orang dengan skor P dan J-nya di MBTI mentok P (yang orang psikologi dan udah pernah lihat kamar dan/atau ruang kerja saya pasti ngerti deh), wajib mengingat jadwal yang beda-beda gini bisa jadi bencanalah ujungnya. Untungnya (kok ini jadi untung melulu ya? Hmmm), saya masih punya rasa malu kalau kerja gak beres atau gak becus. Jadilah saya bersahabat dengan segala jenis kalender dan timer dan reminder, plus seorang tester bernama Siska yang rajin banget ngingetin jadwal kumpul laporan.

Jadi, enakan mana? Jadi pekerja tetap atau jadi asonger? Buat saya, dua-duanya lah (maruk-mode-on). Dengan catatan loh: bekerja tetapnya di universitas swasta yang sekarang ini, yang asonger di satu perusahaan otomotif tersebut. Jangan dibalik. Kenapa? Itu cerita untuk lain kali aja yak.

Gambar dipinjam dari sini.

Impatient

2011-09-13T08:21:00.000-07:00

I don't hate kids.

Or cats.

I'm just impatient. You don't want to see me, ten years ago, waiting for something. I'd snap at anything that annoys me, or anything that moves.

I'll yell. I'll pout. I'll throw tantrum.

When kids or cats test my patience, I'd snap, too.

So don't give me wrong. I don't hate kids or cats.

I'm just that impatient.

Picture borrowed from here.

Name Dropping

2011-09-09T10:35:00.000-07:00

Definitions:

1.The act of inserting the name of any obscure cultural institution into a conversation in an effort to accelerate the building of rapport with someone, or to make one's self appear to be more important. Typically considered by intelligent people to be a negative habit.

2. Referring to someone who is popular or famous in order to let the other person know that you yourself are popular and actually have friends. The event being described is usually a lie, or the story was exaggerated. Most of the time name dropping is used by people who think they are cool, but are not. Can become very hazardous to one's mental and sometimes physical health.

3. Mentioning someone (usually 'famous') in a conversation to imply that you are best friends with said person in lame hope of appearing cool by association.

4. Name dropping is used to inflate one's stature in a conversation by linking oneself to a famous person or situation. This is sometimes done while talking about something completely different. The names are just "dropped" in there. Some attempts are more subtle than others but it is basically annoying.

To learn more, please go here.

I have a friend who namedrops almost every time he gets introduced to someone. At first, I thought that it was his way of making contact and building a network to speed up his career.

But last time I heard him did this, I swear, I wanted to strangle his neck. He kept telling this elderly couple about his work experiences with numerous people, which I was sure that couple didn’t have a clue what he was talking about.

When he did it to people that worthy of his effort, it didn’t bother me so much. But when he did it to a nice elderly couple who had nothing in common with him, I lost it. I tried to keep my mouth shut, and I did succeed.

I have to say though; name dropping is not always done by the average Joes, but also famous people. Take Cee Lo Green, who did this on the reality show The Voice. He was name dropping the singer Pink in an attempt to win over a hopeful contestant.

Well, I’ve been trying to avoid name dropping at all times. My father always warns me about this behavior. He said that he never want to hear his children using his (rather famous, apparently) name to get or win anything. He wants his children to be successful in their own names.

And I always agree with him, completely.

Picture of Cee Lo Green borrowed from here.

Informed Consent

2011-09-09T00:20:00.000-07:00

Informed consent adalah hal yang penting dalam beberapa cabang ilmu, dua di antaranya adalah Ilmu Kedokteran dan Psikologi. Hal menarik yang saya temukan adalah bahwa di Indonesia, tidak ada situs yang menyediakan keterangan mengenai informed consent dalam Bahasa Indonesia, di bidang Psikologi. Kalau dalam bidang Ilmu Kedokteran, dengan mudah saya menemukannya di sini.

Berikut kutipannya:

Menurut PerMenKes no 290/MenKes/Per/III/2008 dan UU no 29 th 2004 Pasal 45 serta Manual Persetujuan Tindakan Kedokteran KKI tahun 2008. maka Informed Consent adalah persetujuan tindakan kedokteran yang diberikan oleh pasien atau keluarga terdekatnya setelah mendapatkan penjelasan secara lengkap mengenai tindakan kedokteran yang akan dilakukan terhadap pasien tersebut. Menurut Lampiran SKB IDI No. 319/P/BA./88 dan Permenkes no 585/Men.Kes/Per/IX/1989 tentang Persetujuan Tindakan Medis Pasal 4 ayat 2 menyebutkan dalam memberikan informasi kepada pasien / keluarganya, kehadiran seorang perawat / paramedik lainnya sebagai saksi adalah penting.

Persetujuan yang ditanda tangani oleh pasien atau keluarga terdekatnya tersebut, tidak membebaskan dokter dari tuntutan jika dokter melakukan kelalaian.
Tindakan medis yang dilakukan tanpa persetujuan pasien atau keluarga terdekatnya, dapat digolongkan sebagai tindakan melakukan penganiayaan berdasarkan KUHP Pasal 351.

Kalau untuk Psikologi, biasanya sih mengacu pada APA (American Psychological Association). Langsung ketemu kok, di sini. Tapi apakah penerapannya sama dengan di Indonesia, yah, saya belum bisa menjawabnya. Ternyata kalau di Indonesia, lebih mudah mencari kode etik Psikologi, ketemu di sini.

Di kuliah Psikologi Klinis hari ini, saya menjelaskan bahwa informed consent sebaiknya juga diterapkan di keseharian kita dalam berinteraksi dengan orang lain. Contoh sederhana, jangan memberikan nomor telepon pribadi orang lain kepada pihak ketiga, tanpa persetujuan dari pemilik nomor telepon tersebut. Contoh lain lagi, jangan menunjuk seseorang untuk menjabat suatu posisi atau memberi tanggungjawab, misalnya tugas kepanitiaan, kepada orang yang tidak hadir pada saat pemberian tanggungjawab tersebut.

Buat saya, tipsnya sederhana saja. Lebih baik bertanya daripada sok tahu terus salah.

Gambar dipinjam dari sini.

Biaya Pendidikan di Indonesia

2011-09-06T23:22:00.001-07:00

Beberapa waktu yang lalu saya dan seorang sahabat membicarakan mengenai pendidikan tinggi di Indonesia yang biayanya semakin tinggi. Dengan semangat dan setengah marah, sahabat saya bilang bahwa pendidikan tinggi seharusnya biayanya terjangkau oleh seluruh lapisan masyarakat.

Saya sangat setuju. Menurut saya, pendidikan dalam bentuk apapun, di jenjang manapun, seharusnya terjangkau, kalau bisa gratis.

Akan tetapi, apa daya, negara ini punya masalah lain yang (katanya) lebih besar dan lebih gawat darurat dibandingkan biaya pendidikan. Jadilah pendidikan dijadikan urutan prioritas kesekian dalam agenda kepentingan pemerintah.

Pengalaman saya mengikuti kegiatan Pelatihan Pengembangan Diri Siswa dan Guru untuk sekolah-sekolah dengan siswa dari Gakin (keluarga miskin) membuat saya jadi punya pemahaman yang lebih komprehensif mengenai biaya sekolah.

Bagi kebanyakan keluarga dari kelas sosial ekonomi bawah, sekolah bukanlah prioritas. Untuk biaya makan sehari-hari saja, mereka harus memutar otak, akrobat jungkir balik demi mendapatkannya. Walaupun uang sekolah sudah digratiskan, tetapi masih ada uang seragam, buku teks, alat tulis, tas, sepatu, ongkos ke dan pulang sekolah, uang jajan. Itu sebabnya masih banyak anak-anak yang dipekerjakan oleh orangtua mereka. Fenomena inilah yang akhirnya menjadi lingkaran setan. Orangtua yang tidak mengenyam pendidikan yang layak, sulit mendapatkan pekerjaan yang layak, dan sulit mendapatkan penghasilan yang layak. Anak-anak dari para orangtua ini, kemungkinan juga akan sulit mendapatkan pendidikan yang layak, karena tidak ada biaya.

Saya menulis ini jelas dari sudut pandang awam dan sepanjang pengetahuan serta pengalaman saya berinteraksi dengan para guru dan siswa Gakin yang pernah saya temui sejak tahun 2006.

Pastinya selalu ada pengecualian. Selalu ada orangtua yang akan mati-matian membanting tulang agar anak-anak mereka bisa bersekolah sampai ke jenjang yang lebih tinggi, agar mendapatkan kehidupan yang lebih baik. Sayangnya, saya menduga, jumlah orangtua yang seperti ini, masih lebih sedikit jika dibandingkan dengan yang lebih memilih untuk mempekerjakan anak-anak mereka.

Saya semakin sedih jika mendengar ada berita mengenai bisnis seragam dan buku teks. Dunia pendidikan buat saya bukanlah bisnis, karena bisnis harus selalu menguntungkan. Keuntungan dari pendidikan tidak bisa dinilai dengan uang. Saya juga sedih jika mendengar ada sekolah yang ditutup karena kekurangan murid dan tidak menguntungkan secara bisnis. Hal ini saya alami sendiri saat belajar di Sekolah Menengah Pekerjaan Sosial Marsudirini yang ditutup pada saat saya naik kelas III, karena muridnya terakhir tidak sampai sepuluh orang.

Masih banyak faktor lain yang menurut saya berkontribusi terhadap mahalnya pendidikan. Salah satunya yang paling membuat saya kesal adalah pajak buku. Indonesia adalah salah satu negara yang masih menerapkan pajak untuk buku, termasuk buku teks pelajaran. Saya belum bicara tentang buku teks impor yang banyak dipakai di perguruan tinggi. Buku teks impor konon kabarnya dikenakan pajak barang mewah. Saya masih menanti masa di mana pemerintah sadar dan mengikuti jejak India yang sejak bertahun-tahun yang lalu mencetak buku-buku teks di dalam negeri dengan kertas koran yang lebih murah dan membebaskan buku dari pajak. Harga buku di India adalah salah satu yang termurah di dunia.

Pemerintah memang telah mewajibkan pendidikan sampai tingkat SMP. Akan tetapi, jika wajib belajar ini tidak diikuti dengan berbagai kebijakan lain yang mendukung, gerakan ini hanya akan jadi slogan belaka.

Saya salut dengan usaha berbagai pihak yang ingin memajukan pendidikan di negeri ini, dan berdoa semoga semakin banyak orang yang tertarik untuk meningkatkan mutu pendidikan dalam negeri.

Semoga kelak saya tidak lagi mendengar ada siswa yang membolos karena tidak punya ongkos dari rumah menuju sekolah.

Gambar dipinjam dari sini.

Smug

2011-08-13T01:13:00.000-07:00

I hate weirdos
they get on my nerves
with their smart-ass comments
and grin and smug and know-it-all attitude

when I see in them
are always
narcissistic tendencies
with too much insecurities

Picture of narcissus flower was borrowed from here.

Broken piñata

2011-07-15T02:31:00.000-07:00

like a broken piñata
enduring blow after blow
suspended from a height
then falls to the ground

its jewel scattered
toys and chocolate and candy
children will fight to get to them
ignoring their once beautiful container

some people live their whole life
as piñatas
enduring pain and torture
while still delivering love and patience

if I were a piñata
I'd hide a knife
cut the rope
and bolt before the first blow

Picture borrowed from here.

Silent Prayer

2011-07-04T06:06:00.000-07:00

may your days
be present
at every moment
magnificent

may your nights
be pleasant
every slumber
peaceful

may your past
stays behind
every memory
intact

may your future
be bright
every plan
falls in place

these are
my wishes
silent prayer
for you

Picture borrowed from here.

Pleading

2011-06-24T05:36:00.000-07:00

please
let me out
of this
chaotic silence

I cannot stand it
anymore
than
you do

send a signal
a nod
an acknowledgement
that you do care

you do need them
miss them
desperately
trying to hold on

just
talk
to your
friends!

Picture borrowed from here.

Déjà vu

2011-06-17T04:52:00.000-07:00

this feels
like few years ago
all over again

it started innocently
and then sent thousands of
sharp piercing realities
shattering me

my lights
all bright
with a warning

I don't want to sound
like a paranoid lunatic
I tried to be reasonable
but the itch just got worse

I feel everything
it sucks
so I'll turn off my lights

Picture borrowed from here.

Ambush

2011-06-14T23:54:00.000-07:00

I just got ambushed
still speechless
and staring at my glass of tea,
now half empty

I saw the agony
the loneliness
and the huge effort
to hide them all

I think all the tea
in the whole world
could not heal you
would not make you feel better

if only life were that simple

Picture borrowed from here.

Along

2011-06-14T05:14:00.000-07:00

all I want
is serenity
peaceful state of mind
without any other issues banging
at the back door

for so long
got used to
hardship
getting it right with no help
from the surrounding neighbourhood

don't need
another sack to carry
just walk on
carrying my own weight
and I'll let you carry yours

Picture borrowed from here.

Anniversary

2011-05-18T03:57:00.000-07:00

I watched her pouring herself a drink, at the corner table. She didn't even look up from her glass. All night she had been bowing her head, like she was searching for her lost dollar bill on the floor.

It was their party, not his party. They should be having a good time.

She ate something out of her plate, standing up. Facing the wall. I turned around, trying to locate him. He was laughing, sitting among their friends and families. He held a glass with his left hand and a cigarette with his right hand. Typical. I smiled. Something just never changed.

I turned my head toward her. She ate slowly, as always. But she ate quietly, so unlike her. She was one of the most outgoing person that I knew. And there she was, standing, all alone, in the corner, eating quietly, at her own house. I suddenly felt a pang inside. A guilt. She should talk to someone. I should make sure she wouldn't be alone.

I saw their dog, Claw, sat under the table near by. He looked sleepy and ready to get gone to dog's dreamland. I whistled low and snapped my fingers. Claw rose and came to me, his tail was wagging eagerly. I walked and asked Claw to heel. He obeyed like always.

"Hey, Rae. Everything alright?"

She looked up and smiled at me. I wrapped my arms around her shoulder and felt the tension and cold. She was gone. She had given up a long time ago.

"Yeah, sure, every thing's fine. Why? Is there something wrong? Are we running out of food already?" Her string of questions were flowing lazily, without even trying to convince me to believe her words.

I leaned closer to her, felt the flinch of her body moved away a couple of inch. I didn't care. I glanced at Claw sitting down near her feet. He sat quietly, as if waiting to do his part. His comforting part.

"No, Rae. No thing's wrong. Why don't you sit with Eli? He must be exhausted dealing with everyone alone."

I saw her eyes darken, like the coming of a storm. "It's fine. Eli would be fine by himself. I would embarrassed him if I join in. So, I think I'll just stay here."

"Would you want me to accompany you?"

She shook her head, the fake smile was gone. She knew that I knew her secret.

"OK then. I asked Claw earlier whether he cares to stay with you or not, and he said he'd sit with you. Is that OK?"

She nodded and looked at me closely. Finally she put her nose to my nose. Eskimo kiss.

"Thank you for even talking to me. Thank you for seeing me when no one else can't."

"It takes one to know one. I was spending my whole college years trying to be invincible, and it kinda worked. But it sucked, so I changed gear and start from scratch."

She smiled, understood that I was trying to give a pep talk. At least she acknowledged my effort to comfort her. I walked away without Claw, and with a heavy heart.

Two days later, she moved out of the house, without her beloved Claw.

Ten years of marriage ended after ten years and two days.

Picture borrowed from here.

Fit

2011-05-17T03:48:00.000-07:00

We sat there at our favourite coffee shop with dozens of other patrons. We ignored the hustle and bustle around, as we always did.

As I rambling on, I noticed that her face distorted into pieces that didn't quite fit. Her lips were still smiling, but her eyes were full of desperation. I saw her nose twitched a couple of times, like it was nervous on its own. Her eyebrows rose and fell along with my effortless words.

"So, you're sure you are OK?" asked her timidly.

I looked into her dark chocolate eyes. I still didn't understand how she could be so naive and attractive at the same time.

And I despised naivety, in any form, in anyone.

"I'm sure. Don't worry. If things get worse, I promise to go to the ER immediately," I said jokingly, hoping to ease the tension.

"You will contact me if anything happens, right? Please don't make me worry," pleaded her gently.

I smiled and touched her trembling fingers. "I promise."

My tea was already cold, but I sipped it anyway. It felt like I was waiting for her for hours. My feet was already numb from the cold. She still sat there with concerned look on her face.

"Hey, stop worrying. I'm fine. I'm as healthy as a bull, ready to fight inside any ring. Or street, if I were in Spain."

She nodded, still not convinced.

"Are you in any pain right now?"

"Nah. I take my medicine religiously. I will never be in pain."

She laced her fingers in mine. She always said that our fingers laced perfectly because our hands were about the same size. She did the finger lacing thing to calm herself. To gain some composure after every storm.

I couldn't bear it anymore. I stood up and hugged her, putting her head on my torso. She understood and stood too. We hugged for a very long time, ignoring the other patrons of the coffee shop.

"If I could have one wish granted, it would be for you to get healthy again."

"I know. That is my wish, too."

"I'm sorry for being so selfish."

"You're the most selfless person on this planet. What made you say that?"

"Because I want you to be healthy for my sake. I can't bear the thought of living my life without you in it."

I didn't say anything afterward. I just hugged her tighter. Bone-crushing hug.

Our hug fitted perfectly. Like a pair of tailor-made gloves.

Picture borrowed from here.

Haunted

2011-05-17T03:32:00.000-07:00

"I love you."

She looked up. Her Saturday paper suddenly lost its importance upon her hearing those words being said out loud. She looked at the man sitting in front of her. That same man who's been caressing her.

In her dreams, of course.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

The puzzled look said it all. But he still asked, "I don't understand your question. What I mean is, I love you, I care about you, and I love spending time with you."

She sat up straight, cracking her knuckles. She knew he hated that habit of hers, but she didn't care.

"OK, I see. So, what do you want from me?" she asked. With her point blank expression, people would never expect that they're having intimate conversation.

"I would like to get to know you better. I would like to spend more time with you, alone. Just the two of us, without chaperons, entourage, friends. I would like to go somewhere quiet, free of distraction. I would like us to talk, about things that are important to us."

"What if I said no?"

He was surprised hearing her questioning him like that.

"I can't force you to agree on anything I said, but I hope you'll consider my requests."

"Many requests you got there."

He stared at her hard, trying to catch some clue. Some movement of emotion on her pretty make-up-free face. There was nothing.

"I know. I was just trying to be honest. With you, with myself."

"I see."

For whole four minutes they sat there quietly, barely moving. But their grey matter inside their brains were busy. So busy with mixed feelings and unsaid words.

She started to talk softly after that long silence.

"You know, I think I gain the most out of this relationship compared to you. So, thank you."

Oh, how he loved her. He craved to put his hands around her small frame and bear-hugged her.

"You're welcome, I guess."

"I'm bored. Let's get the hell out of here and get wasted, shall we?" She grabbed her bag and stood impatiently.

He sighed and nodded. He stood and signaled her to lead their way out.

She smiled, for the first time that day. Seconds later, he saw nothing but blurry images. He could hardly breathe in except the perfumed air near her neck. She was hugging him, tightly. As if she would never see him again afterward.

"I really, really love you. Tell that girlfriend of yours, she doesn't deserve you."

She released him after saying those two sentences which had been haunting her for months. Then she walked away. For good.

Posted on Facebook Notes by Dina Astuti on Friday, May 13, 2011 at 5:43pm

Picture borrowed from here.

Adore

2011-05-10T23:37:00.000-07:00

a distinct laugh
contagiously delicious
with a hint of
mischief inside the eyes

please stop
the teasing
and just get back
to being real

the suffering of
imagining being
never to hear
that laughter again

is enough
to put out
the flame
into extinction

just please stop
being
so damn
adorable

Picture borrowed from here.

Out of Water

2011-05-10T00:17:00.000-07:00

drawn into
the beating
of distant
drum

I stepped
into
the
unknown

the cold
stabbed me
right
through

the words
felt impersonal
disregarding
my curiosity

I lowered
my head
dipped my toes
further

I've never felt so out of place my entire life.

Picture borrowed from here.

Bright

2011-05-02T03:52:00.000-07:00

Lately I sleep with the light on
fearing for some dark thoughts
would materialized
right under my bed

So the light stays on
penetrating deep slumber
intervening dreams
and dawning murmurs

When I wake up
the light stays inside
my eyes and my face
following me around all day

I always pretend
that I swallowed too many
lightning bugs
which wouldn't leave me alone

Picture borrowed from here.

Slipped

2011-04-28T09:05:00.000-07:00

the minute
I smiled
that spark vanished

I tried
so hard
all afternoon

to bring
that twinkle
back

but the poison
had
set in

Picture borrowed from here.

Shy

2011-04-28T08:48:00.000-07:00

I try not to stare
not to search for his face
in the crowd

But I know
he'd be watching
when he can

Trying, sneaking to glance
at me
without looking too eager

Knowing that he also
misses me
is enough

Picture borrowed from here.

The Best Concert I've Ever Been To

2011-04-28T00:03:00.000-07:00

Maroon 5 Jakarta's setlist

1. Misery
2. If I Never See Your Face Again
3. Harder To Breathe
4. Give A Little More
5. The Sun
6. Won’t Go Home
7. Never Gonna Leave This Bed
8. Secret
9. She Will Be Loved
10. Wake Up Call
11. Shiver
12. Stutter
13. This Love

Encore
1. Hands All Over
2. Makes Me Wonder
3. Sunday Morning

Picture borrowed from here.

She and That Woman

2011-04-26T03:28:00.000-07:00

She doesn't want anything in her life other than peace.

She likes her small cabin in the middle of nowhere. She likes her own vegetable patches. She likes the predictable weather. She likes her daily routine. She likes the fact that she knows everyone in her neighbourhood. She likes to have quiet time after working around the house. She likes the order and the ultimate control she has in her life.

Everything was perfect. Then that woman came along.

That woman wears different clothes everyday. That woman has crazy, illogical schedule. That woman hangs her laundry in the middle of the night. That woman hangs her undergarments in front of her house for the whole town to see. That woman has booming, unexpected laughs. That woman wakes up very early one day and sleeps until noon the next day. That woman eats her french fries with chocolate ice cream. That woman wears red shoes.

She's puzzled by that woman's behaviour.

It turned out, that woman is interested in her. That woman compliments her vegetable patches, her cozy, neat house, and her ability to introduce everyone in town properly. That woman spends time with her, helping her out many times, and shares stories.

Her world turned upside down. Her world came crashing down. That woman is becoming a part of her world. That woman slowly becomes her friend.

And then one day, all hell broke lose.

That woman asked her a favour. She said she would help, but changed her mind when realizing she had plenty chores ahead. That woman was disappointed, hurt, and angry. That woman said she was counting on her as a friend, but got rejected. She's never experienced fury directed at her. So she decided to stay away. She decided she had enough of that woman.

She went back to her old routine. She does her chores as schedule. She stays at her cabin and only goes out when absolutely necessary. And yet, she feels like something is missing. She misses that woman.

So she decided to write to that woman. She never write a letter to anyone before. Her words sounded awkward and cold, but she didn't care. When that woman asked her to meet and talk, she agreed. After they talked, she handed the letter to that woman.

A few days later, they're almost friends again. And then, the second hell broke lose.

That woman asked her for help with some work. She said yes, but then forgot about it. When another friend asked her to help for he same work, she also said yes, forgetting that initial woman's request. When that woman found out about what she did, there's no word that could describe the tension and weird atmosphere. That woman was furious. She tried to explain, but that woman wouldn't hear her. That woman just walked away and never turned back.

She never felt so alone inside her structured, predictable, and independent shell of life.

Picture borrowed from here.

Hold

2011-04-23T19:35:00.000-07:00

someone said
that I have
the need
to point
the guilty party

in the face
of a problem
I have
the tendency
to blame

when all I do
is asking
if I made
any mistake
please tell me

because I'm clueless
helpless
and pointless
in reading
hints and cynicism

after that
I ask
what should
I do
to make things
better

I do blame myself
for many things
but I hold my tongue and fingers
better when in comes
to other people

Picture borrowed from here.