sweetness

I spent five weeks not in my consultant office. So, for those who know that I am in the same office with my boyfriend, well, I was not for the past four weeks already. That means I only had time to meet him at weekends, just like other normal couples. And I found it weird. Usually we spent about twelve hours a day, but now we only had six hours a week. So, the urge to book one unit at Cosmopolitan tower in kemang village arose. humph. Feel a bit clingy huh?

This wass added by the fact that this month is the fasting month. It means that you are not able to do anything intentionally arousing during noon. So, the past weeks had been spent with layer per layer of patience. And I think I handled it well. I handled the syahwat management well, but not the anger management one.

Look how silly and shallow I am (and yes, it is not only sisie who asked his boyfriend about rescuing her in tsunami, becoz in fact, my bf will save his motorcycle first before me should a fire happens. His motorcycle’s name is domba, anyway). Okay: the silly thing I did: arguing over some silly facts or existence, namely: friendster.

It was started with me saying: how come I am not in your featured friends column? Why do I see these white, slim, big boobs Chinese chicks on your featured friends. And, ladies, don’t forget the “huh?!!” at the end of the sentence.
Then he replied, like I put you on my featured friends for several months. But what did you do? Have you ever put me in your featured friends? I guess, you considered the featured friends are not important. So, I didn’t put you in mine anymore. (and yes, I never put his on mine either).

Yes, but still jealousy is still jealousy, although I had no clear argument for that. So, I said to him that perhaps my ramblings were just because I got my period. And he could understand. See, how fun and easy it is to be woman who accept stereotype from the society.

It’s not over yet. Then, we fought about how he wanted me to lose 15 more kgs. And I bet y’all know how scrumptious and impetuous the war that happened between me and him. I called him shallow and he called me insecure. Fair enough. Blatant enough. Catfights!

However, somehow, we also settled the matter down. And, what’s left of this week is sweetness. Sometimes, it is very nice to feel that you have a privilege. Well, I had the privilege to accompany him going through this fasting month. And it’s sweet. Or to spend a whole evening on Jakarta free car day and looking for some little dogs to buy, I totally found it sweet.

Hmmm…I guess somebody is becoming more lame and more lame and more lame here….

effected

Several signs that I AM a pseudo-feminist:

Prelude: I’ve never said that I am a feminist, however, all students in my college learned feminism. And most of them agreed (although only 0.00001%) that women should have their position equally with men in the society, by any definition of course. The more far I get from the time I studied it, the more I am convinced that I am a pseudo-feminist (as jame and sisie said). And it is irritating.

Several signs that I AM a pseudo-feminist:

1.I didn’t cut my hair short. This is the longest hair I’ve ever had. Just because my boyfriend wanted it so.

2.I didn’t protested when several police (whom my agency gave training for) teased me they want to handcuff me. I just gave them a shy smile. Just because I want them to be pleased.

3.I was the one who cleaned up the dishes after me and my boyfriend had lunch. Just because I wanna be seen as a complete woman in front of the society (read: his father and mother)

I think those explain.

Hiks. So, wanna publish Postmopolitan, guys? =)

august 3

My birthday has always been the announcement day of SPMB, August 3rd. I considered getting into English literature UI as a gift on my 17th birthday back then. I hope the same day may give you the same gift as in getting into some favorite universities. Hohoho. Enjoy your college days, young people.

korintus

Kasih itu sabar
Kasih itu murah hati
Ia tidak cemburu
Ia tidak meneguhkan diri dan tidak sombong
Ia tidak melakukan yang tak sopan dan mencari keuntungan sendiri
Ia tidak pemarah dan tidak menyimpan kesalahan orang lain
Ia tidak bersuka cita karena ketidakadilan,
tetapi karena kebenaran
Ia menutupi segala sesuatu,
percaya segala sesuatu
mengharapkan segala sesuatu
sabar menanggung segala sesuatu

kasih tidak berkesudahan
nubuat akan berakhir
bahasa roh akan berhenti
pengetahuan akan lenyap

demikianlah, tinggal ketiga hal ini,
yaitu iman, pengharapan dan kasih
dan yang paling besar di antaranya adalah
kasih.

apple rep

I went to this pious consultant firm, where the husband of my lovely professor works. It has a splendid interior, feels like you are going to a club next to some beach instead of to a forty something story building. It has a fully-white glossy furniture, with blue shade of raylight and green palms. The great things are: one, from its penthouse-like rear window, you can see the complete map of Gelora Bung Karno and Senayan, complete with its green map and parliament building. It’s quite neat from the 20th floor up there. Secondly, the common OS of the office is Mac, as well as their common desktops. Oh my my…
The things going in my mind is that: they can be a much better representative of Mac and Apple than… me.

Yes. Anywhere I go, everybody is like always saying,”hmm..how incompatible Mac is with other OSs.”
I believe that it IS compatible. Since, hello??, I use Microsoft office to work the documents. It’s a core-duo technology, pipol. However, everywhere I go, I make apple seems worthless and there you go..what’s the word?...incompatible.
Should I feel sorry for harming the cult of apple? It feels like a Moslem who does not do five time prayers or eat pork.

Whatever.

cold

Walking in between cold asphalt of a large road
Contesting the stars that are not even seen
You find yourself hug your soul
Your midnight mood drip
In between warm houses you pass
Imagine the family inside
Roasting some turkey
Or baking some cookie
Contrasting it with the coldness
Add some atmosphere
Walking down the street alone
Ignoring people are around, usually you find it quite jamming
But meanwhile you’re there alone, you find it quite satisfying
Your sadness is buried in a dark vision
Nobody can see
That’s perfect
Being outside without being seen
You are down
Feel the air feel the thickness of the air
Lonely as it may be
You are fit in to the situation

simply

I like the orange best, bumbi… 


We went to Kinokuniya Seibu yesterday. I needed to buy some small, handy, light, well-flowing book as Paulo Cuelhos, I then picked “To Kill a Mockingbird”. Well. I didn’t know yet about the well-flowing words, but for sure it’s light and cheap, hohoho. Not to mention, it’s once said as a pivotal book of the century. So I think, it’s very nice to have something important in my bag within my unimportant days and activities.

Then, after I paid for two magazines and an important book, I went over looking for bumbi. He’s swarming in between comics, history, architecture, and design books. Then he opened a book about Design Anatomy. It shows various of concepts or late designs used to build a brand new design. Then we stopped at Absolut Vodka advertisements. There are six ads, orange, currant, lime, and six other flavors that I don’t recall (am not a huge fan of vodka). The ads are filled with details like you find on Sherina’s and Gita Gutawa’s album covers. Flowery flowing lines.

Then, he asked, “Which one do you like best?, I like this one best (he pointed at the Vodka Curant ad dominates with purple background”

I said, “Okay, based on the detailed pictures in the ad, I like this one (I pointed at an ad dominated with cherish color: it shows an abstract view of new York’s Madison Avenue with its huge billboards), but based on the surreal and whole concept, I like the orange one. Then, based on the sophistication I like the black silver one.

He then said, “I just asked you to choose the best, that simple. You only have to pick one.”

“I can’t. The best can be seen by various categories,” I pleaded

“You’re so complicated. Now, pick one. I’m here to teach you how to be simple.”

After a five minute pause, I said, “Hmmm…I like the orange one best.”

“See? That easy. Don’t weight yourself with complications, unnecessary questions, and considerations. It burdens you and would not be comprehended well by other people.”

I still think that the best can be still seen from various aspects (me and the postmo ego) and bumbi’s there to teach me to be simple. I’m trying both paths now.

I let him in to teach me.

Picture from Getty Images

consumption and gratification

*I like this photo...picture of the victims of a slavery, hehehe. Arief Aziz and me*


This week goes on with complication of mind. I want my life be on its reel based on my personal mood and desire. I want it to be fast-forwarded. And lately I found out that the hardest thing to make a prosperous development in your life is Compromises. I don’t like to learn people’s mind and dealing with their barriers given to people. It is tiring, you know, to try to enter someone’s gate to make a first good impression. I can’t bear much to make an effort first before cooperate with people, trying to grasp the core by entering a labyrinth of judgmental thoughts is not easy for me. I’d prefer my comfort zone, myself, my friends. Is it selfish? Or is it a freewill? I’d prefer an individual job if there’s any. Writer? Is it an individual and selfish job? Teaching? Is it too? What do you think? I’ll change my profession as fast as possible at the beginning of next year. I hope so.

Btw, this is the mid of the year. It’s time to check my 2007 new year’s resolution. Half of them are accomplished, though they are resolutions in the form of CONSUMPTION. Meanwhile, the resolutions in the form of GRATIFICATION haven’t been started yet. Have to move my butt off. They are: Spanish course, piano course, read feminism books, write articles, and work my body out! Hmmph. Oh ya, including attend church mass as frequent as possible (very questionable). Ayo Ovi, semangattt

dying

Suck it through
Centrifuging my thoughts of dark sky
Swamp my shoulders on the door pane
Said her to the air
Breeze me with your raining solitude
With that after-rain smell stopping the bleed in my nose
Swap my face with your indiscriminating touch
Said her to the trespassing wind
I’m not living for a second
It is you standing inside my soul
My mother-nature
Suck it through
Suck my defense
Left nothing but giving
Give the gift and help me through
I’m dying, I’m letting everything in
From you
Mother-nature

solemn desert

When the cycle of solemn solitude reappears
I hold my mind not to fall far
I don’t understand why the stars lights its flash
Blade my hands from watering the sand
Deepest dry eyes from the black veil
I am withdrawing my soul from touching you
When the full moon accompanying the travelers on their camels
Late at night
No one knows what games the stars are playing
Since they just appear for light teasing
To show that they are there and they are the ones that radiate
Unlike the sun
Brightens the land
That’s why travelers are waiting for the day,
But only to wait for the starry night to come
To let themselves being lost while halfly awake
The greatest cluelessness without blame

coming with you i might

Swarming with you is so light
I feel no burden inside
Playing on the field catching balloon flights
Strolling on the grass and pointing at the blue skylight
Oh baby, you’re so an apple on my sight
Bringing the bubbly happy slide that I cannot fight
Even though my mind can’t remember your face right
I feel your figure burning out to my delight

you

I’ve never been there to your island
Though my mind soars with the shouts of anxiety
I’ve never been subly- cultural
Never been there with anger
To bring my projections outside
Never thought of making my soul a concrete pad of stamp
Never tried to pierce, cease, metallite, covering up, blushing up, lipstcking o’er, trying to be different, mocking the pops, stabbing my ears, being scary yet a very good citizen inside.
Though all’s been crossed my mind
I see a seamless kind of being pop and different
All prisons my sole
All has no answer of all anger, disappointment, sadness, and imperfection
No consolation as good as myself
Think it through, should I bring it to a social desperation movement?
I’ve never been there being there with anyone
Now I see u will not drug me either
Since indeed I’ve never been to your island
I’ve never been to your mind
Though my mind soars with the shouts of anxiety

i wanna

I wanna die without knowing people are bad
I wanna close my eyes and not seeing people smirk on my success
I wanna shut my ears without hearing people subordinating me behind my back
I wanna numb my skin to give no rooms for false pats
I wanna blackened my heart so it’ll not be moved by cheap praises
I wanna hang up the phone before rumors are spread further
I wanna be beautiful so I won’t have to try triple-standardly to give contributions
I wanna be funny so everybody will laugh and lose focus on my weaknesses
I wanna be powerful so everyone will hear for all I’ve got to say
I wanna be in an education system again when meritocracy is the only standard
I don’t want to respect people only just because they are older
I disgust social order and organization
Unfortunately, working life lets everything in

drowse

Today the time ticks from celebration to obituary
I am not living here it’s my mind that still prey
My heart has flown away by the breeze of the valley
Pricking wishes into dust of puzzled hopes
Pulled like a sugar candies then melt, scratching the intestine
Doing the best is sure what I’ve got
But myth is sure hard to forgot
Giving realities to be judged non-sense-ly
Sure I can’t convey
Since in the jungle everything chuckles
Can’t judge their happy nice smiles
When everybody just wants you to be drown
Then you are drown

a festival of excelso

Interesting fact: Nearly ninety percent of the people on the first to the third row wore converse shoes with candies colors, jeans, black shirt with cute design or polite and sweet political message like “Nobody Dies Virgin, Coz in the End Life F***s Us All” campaign, “Give Me a Starlight” poster, with jansport or eastpack backpacks with different designs and optimistic colors for their belts.


Bawdy as it may be, being in the Muse gig was clearly a whole lot different experience compared to watching Hanson’s in Score! (mwahaha…iya lah). Despite of their so-much-enjoyable music, with Hanson it was like being herd into a dim place where you will see beautiful men being glimmered in purplish lighting. So, the queue was so ehm, pastel. With Muse. Ok, first thing first. I stood on the second festival row exactly in front of the stage. Matthew Bellamy was so discernible from where I was. Then, the show started with Knights of Cydonia. Exactly at that point, the people become so onerous. FYI, front row of the festival floor was packed with young men with their pastel converses. Before the show started, I thought they would be this selected-whole-new-generation-who-would-and-could-pay-half-million-rupiahs-for-an-hour-semi rock-concert-thus-they-won’t-be-rampage.

But, it is wrong. Suddenly they battered each other. Listen to what the crowd had to say (we communicated in English on the floor, so this not a translated enscription): “Hey dude, chill in!”, “What? You fuckin’ asshole, stop pushing me around”, “Hey, I’m not pushing you, Dude. Everybody in the back was pushing.”, “Hey, what are you doing?!”, “Anjing Babi.”, “Would you just shut up?!”. (I was so much included in this conversation).

Then, when the heat was even more boiling, the bodyguards distributed cold mineral water to the front liners. So, we literally drank from the same bottle together with ten people’s saliva on its tip. We desperately needed it (somehow, we understand what does it like to queue for sembako). Then the shouts began: so, the water distributed was in the bottles in the middle of the songs. So, when you received it you had to jump around with Matt’s falsettos. You could drink only at his minor classical riffs that tone the rhythm down. Thus, sometimes the water was splashed off with the jumping. “Hey girl, don’t waste the water.”, “Hey you stop splash it on my face”, “Whatever.”, “Do you want it/”, “Yeah, water please!”, “Hey stop bitchin’ soakin my shirt, dude!”, “Mas…mas..(to the bodyguards), “Apa? (he gave a bottle of water).”, “ah, enggak Mas, minggir dikit dong, aku nggak bisa liat, nih,hehe.). I was pretty much included on this scoffing as well.

Next, I still had this one chance to clean my hands, I put a pinch of Antis and rub them. “Hmhh… apaan nih?”,”Antis, ya?”,”Hmm..iya kayaknya. Antis Stroberi!.”, “I’m sorry,” I smirked,” Duh, kirain absolut vodka,” said the guy, “antis ada alkoholnya dikit kok mas. Mau?” (This is a real conversation. I don’t know why I even had to clean my hands since there’s no use of it).

While silly shouts and conversations came around the experience went on. See, I wore this strapless bras, and when Muse was singing Plug in Baby (it means, near the end of the show), I realized that they (my bras) had slipped down to my waist for almost an hour of jumping and semi-moshing around. In random, I got sticky sweat in five minutes, which equals to two hours of aerobic class. I got my mitten shirt being pulled down, young guys on my back, left, and right. All of them were curbing and pressing. Literally, I hadn’t had this so close encounter with men for one year. It’s okay, as long as their cute, clean, and dripped with Hugo Boss, Armani, or Ck sweats (Thank God, they’re not smelly). Ok, what am I saying here. In sum, it was nasty, nasty yet highly releasing and loosing experience for my soul. The concert left me with my deeply soaked shirt and hair, perennial fatigue, and a flimsy control of mind. if only they had had a Spa service in the midnight, I’d absolutely go for it.

Then, the juice. I think it was a spiritual experience. Adri Subono as the prime minister of the kingdom who herds and provides the security and pawang ujan for the fans as the worshipper to Muse as the god. Seeing how great they infused the youngsters more than the pundits in our country. We love Mas Adri better than om-om at the Ministry of Education or Hatta Rajasa, since everybody feels save coming to his events. We love Matt better than our representatives at the legislative. Coz these om-om can only make an obscene videos, while Muse has us sing and think:

“Come ride with me
Through the veins of history
I’ll show you how god
Falls asleep on the job

And how we can win
When fools can be kings
Don’t waste your time
Or time will waste you

No one’s gonna take me alive
The time has come to make things right
You and I must fight for our rights
You and I must fight to survive.”


Other interesting facts:

-In total, there were eleven passed-out people being carried out, literally, over my head.
-Beside me, a 150 cms girl from Madiun who had to come by plane to Jakarta and stayed a motel in Blok M, but on the second song, she was also passed out.
-In front of me were four French high school girls, who were undoubtly gorgeous, and Indian guy even had a time to ask for their number in the middle of the show.
These four girls brought digital cameras and they used it in the face of the Indonesian bodyguard. However, the bodyguard yelled to a young boy far away, “Dek, kamu bawa kamera, ya! Awas kamu, kalo gak dimasukkin, nanti saya ambil.”. What a discrimination. (or is it just because he can’t speak English? So he gave an indirect message?)
-I took a picture with Ian Kasela at the end of the concert, mwahahahaha…
-I still think that Suede and The Tears are better than Muse J

Ov, he has a girlfriend!
(what a déjà vu…)

Those that keep me holding on tonight

The Tears CD burned and given by Ayu
Two Creatures on the Run single of The Tears
The Lovers as the Tears’ 7th single
Imperfections by The Tears
The Assylum by the talented Brett Anderson
my brother’s chocolate bun that he brought back home
blank paper
words on the blank paper
light conversation on 102 with my boy friend who just found out that his crush is not a single flyer.

Foolish.foolish.foolish.foolish.foolish.fool.

brushes of myth

Two transparent wings on the white horse’s back floating through the brushes of the deep blue ocean. It slightly drowses, swing the wind up while its four feet touches the wave. Like some dregs of silver stardust flashing its every move. Leaving its home in the cloud to stop by and deliver my brother to the mother earth. It is as my mother’s dream before she bore my baby youngest brother. He was left there with a message that he is just dropped on this earth to visit. Most importantly, he is not my mom’s.
Now he is growing, and it is more frequent for me to quarrelling. Easy as it may be taken, myth will fix your attitude easily, remind you that some principals are there to be the basic guidance of your life. I love my brother more while I am reminded of this myth, that he will not be here forever. Such silliness in the midst of the soul and mind awakening. Moreover when a friend of mine just lost his two younger sisters at a time.

she

she is the one who can rip through the layers on my body
fix it through my eyes, the real thing i wanna see
concealing the make ups
melting the shading
cut my happy smile hardly
as Black Dahlia lying down blindly
put the haze into tears
that burst and gulp my face into fears
fearing myself that i am not myself
not that I am not in decay
but that I am going through the process
to what I may

ahem...capitalism

Through the flow with the same rhythm
Neglecting that your soul is in mayhem
Connecting yourself with the same tandem
Until you are no longer seen,
Drown in a culminating salem.

(for a system called capitalism...)

-december 12th 2006, in a suck capitalist-large communication company building with its money-craving seminar-

paris hilton

...is not a guilty pleasure. nor are britney, agnes, lindsay, as such. the real guilty pleasure right now should be Bunga Citra Lestari dengan Sunny-nya.
Aduh, gimana ya...video klip nya segar sekali, the most matching video clip of the year deh. huahaha. Matching sama lagunya. kan lagunya sok-sok Bic Runga gitu, breezy, seaakan ada desiran angin australia nya (kalo Bunga, mungkin angin puncak). Video klip nya Bunga pas banget gak seh warnanya, deep glossy purple (love the big couch!), biru muda, mint green, trus ada berbagai buah-buahan. Trus, i feel more guilty...saat gw perhatiin, teknik nyanyinya juga lumayan susah. (iya nggak sih???). the only norak element of the song should be the title. haduh...Sunny...halah. aniwey,

mati deh gw.