Monday, November 9, 2009

films have always been my reality.

films have always been my reality.
I grew up chasing the ideals that were built by the film industry.

the image of a slim cut working girl on five inch louboutins, a branded latte, sheets of paper shielded by arms typing email through Blackberry, and bag, nothing too grand, maybe a Chanel?

I'm not going to lie, once I tell you about me, I sound superficial.
some people call me borderline superficial and depth.
a hybrid girl, who religiously follow couture news and argue about humanity on a philosophical ground.

I follow my passion, and that is my basic instinct.
I hate calculations, but I like to know my risks.
I'm not damaged, but my innocence is fading.
and my biggest influence has to be film.

I wanted once, to be a cinematographer.
I fought for this Journalism major I'm pursuing.
and here's a thought:
I feel that I'm not talented enough for my passions.
everybody's got to be an extraordinaire,
but I fear oddness.
I despise all things "typical", that when people ask me why,
I just snobbishly shrug, because I don't know the answer.

I don't like being different, and I don't like being the same as everybody else.

this is getting off topic.
but films have always been my greatest influence,
before social life struck,
I dived into a little this genre and tried script writing (which failed miserably)
realized I never like horror because they're just portrayals of something I have never experienced in life and WILL NEVER experience.
cinematography is the main appeal and dialogues pulls me into this staged reality.

staged reality.
I have staged a reality.
I have staged a coincidence.
I have staged a conversation.
haven't you?

of course it's predictable, but you have the power to control it.
and the other person will just be the audience, completely taken away by this great serendipity and may refer to it as "fate",
for me, the situation's just rehearsed and anticipated.
and I love it that way, because you can control the lighting that falls on your skin,
the fabric that covers your vulnerability, and you don't tattletale mistakes.

perfection, maybe that's what film teaches me.
or maybe that's what I take from it.

but whatever can go wrong in real life,
I know I can always run to films for comfort of perfection.
say I'm in denial or what,
film is always the greatest reality.

Sunday, November 8, 2009

music is the 21st century religion.

or at least I'd like to conclude so.
debatable, as Dessy Septiane said, but here's my argument:

Religion means a set of beliefs concerning the cause, nature, and purpose of the universe, esp. when considered as the creation of a superhuman agency or agencies, usually involving devotional and ritual observances, and often containing a moral code governing the conduct of human affairs.
(dictionary.com)

doesn't music serve the same purpose to a certain degree?
on my own observation, the youth turn to music more than the religion stated in their ID cards.

when we cry, we listen to sappy-happy music.
we use to empower, to bring nostalgia, to express our emotions.
the lyrics, the melody, the way its crunched together into a catchy tune.

in the morning, afternoon, midnight and to end an epic event,
we use music to symbolize.

we'd die for bootlegs, we cry during live shows, we hug our vinyls, we arrange each album artwork, we hide "shameful" music,
we beg for each song to play and replay.

a song is like a helping hand when you have no words to say.
it speaks all range of emotions that are associated with matters inside the universe.

it is also much more flexible.
you can shift to the jazzy 20s, swinging 60s to the rock banging 80s.
there's no one Bible really, music is adaptable to the change in your system.
or maybe, it dictates the changes you've made.

the nature of music is subjective,
just like the world that has shifted to postmodernism,
therefore we collect both diverse and narrow tunes.
with this, comes lifestyle.
we adopt our music to our everyday expression.
what you hear is who you are.

so, music is my 21st century religion,
and Dessy Septiane is my priest.

Wednesday, November 4, 2009

I want to hold your hand

or maybe I'll pass.

I have this mind that thinks metaphorically for everything.
I find symbols that represent something else, so bear with me.

now, I've seen my share of "couples"
massive hugging, kissing, mushy gushy in public,
and holding hands.
It does not bother me as much as line cutters,
but still weird.

few months ago, I dated a guy who would hold my hand.
I let go quickly.
And I've realized that I don't like it.

So I've concluded why I think holding hands is not my thing.

When it's for reasons like warmth or to cross the road or to go about in a crowded room,
that symbolizes safety and security, which is what I'm looking for in everybody.
However, when it lingers,
that's when it gets weird.

I mean, if you hold only one hand and for a long time,
they tend to be warmer than your other hand,
and then they get all sweaty.
So now you have one hand that's cold and the other that's hot.

Also, it isn't practical when you need to pace your walk faster,
because he/she who has custody of your left hand has to go about the same speed as you.
now unless you both are either snail walkers or race walkers, then I suggest the compromise of this walk speed would lead to argument.

And tell me, if you don't feel like holding hands anymore,
how do you stop?
Do you slowly release one, two, three fingers to give him/her the hint?
Do you tap them in the shoulders and whisper, "hey, I don't feel like holding hands anymore."
Do you take away your whole hand, pretending you need both hands to ransack your bag?

To me, holding hands is the symbol for dependence and lack of freedom.
Dependence because you have to always cling on to someone.
Lack of freedom because you're not free to do whatever you want at that time frame with your own hands, and if you want to, you gotta ask for permission "hey, can I have my hand back?"
You were born into this world with your own pair of hands, now why would you like to join it together with somebody who's got their own.
It also connotes suffocation, because you have no space between you and the other person.
I don't know about you but I like my space.
I hate breathing the same air as the next person.
but maybe that's just cause I have asthma.

Same like, you only be friends with people who knows how to shut up at the right time.
but that is another theory and another ridiculous discussion.

citizenship does not mean home.

something very powerful was said to me today,
"as the public, our power is the ballot box."

I'm enough of age to vote in Indonesia,
and I am ashamed to say, I did not vote.
of course I find reasons for it,
such as,
"I don't know shit about Indonesian politics"
or "I don't wanna go to the embassy to register."
and like others
"one vote wouldn't make a difference."
but if there is a hundred that thinks exactly like me,
there would be a loss of a hundred vote.

I'd like to say, I want to be neutral.
and that would be the TCK in me.
being born a TCK, I have always been in between.
never for or against.
always diplomatic and properly articulating expression.
image is number one, and the name of passport country is carried on my shoulder.
I dealt with it for a very long time now,
and although my parents are not around,
people still identify me as my passport country and therefore,
my behavior = behavior of the citizens of passport country.

though that is the ideal equation,
all my life I have been feeling misplaced not only amongst peers,
but also in the environment.

studying in Malaysia, and having been here for 5 years,
I have learned a handful to be able to discuss current issues.
the university encourages students to read newspapers, argue about the opposition and the dominant party, and to take action about whatever they complained.

while all Malaysians in the university are being motivated to do something about it,
I do not need all that poking around by lecturers; because I really want to do something about it.

If there is one thing Indonesian about me, is probably that "let's overthrow the government" attitude. It's a generalization, yes, but also an observation.
when I was in Grade 9 studying at a private Indonesian school, the teachers gave us Friday off because we all have to rally in front of the Parliament building about an education law that just passed.

anyway, my point is that,
its a pity I can't do much in this foreign country that I call home.

when the generation Y Malaysians complains about disappointment in dominant power,
everybody tells them to either vote, rally or get their story published.
I may speak the language, understand the issue perfectly,
but I'm not local enough to be able to make a change.

I definitely do not want to go back to Indonesia,
and again that is the TCK in me speaking,
but if I want to get myself involved, the only way is to either change my citizenship
or start to embrace my passport country.

you know where I'm heavy to,
but here's to embracing that TCK stereotype,
I think that I have commitment issues;
I don't like to be identified as my passport country for reasons that are changing,
but I also don't want to change my citizenship for I begin to see the good.

maybe I should work for Starfleet Enterprise instead.

Monday, November 2, 2009

counting blessings.

I lost you, but I gained more friends and laughed more.
I can't believe I'd rather extend the pain, than turn around,
and spend my youth.
well, now I am.

Friday, October 30, 2009

perception modification.

people are always modifying their reasons to tailor themselves.

I'm talking about decisions.
people always rationalize a decision, and then get into the dilemma of doing the right thing
or just be selfish and not care about who gets hurt.
and then once they've come up with a decision,
which is mostly the selfish one,
they consult peers.

words are delicately manipulated in a way that they seem like "the good person"
exaggerate several things here and there, don't forget to hide things that will make you inconsiderate.
you can't look morally ignorant.

but here's whats happening on the other side of the table
because you didn't explain your decision,
they think you're selfish, inconsiderate, an idiot and a moron,
so they despise you and prolong their fidelity to the other person you've "hurt".

but then again, heartache is vague in itself, right?
what do you consider a heartache really?
disappointment? rejection?
who's responsible for the fact that it did not work?
but here's the thing, two can play that game,
heartache isn't only limited to the person who bailed out,
how about the one that made the decision?
he/she had to swallow a mouthful of thorns and decide, worst of all live with regrets.
how about the other party?
he/she did not get a chance to say, just nod and try to go on with life without the thought of suicide.

in the end, when it comes to making decision,
people are always modifying it to:
a) make them feel better
b) seem like it is morally ethical
c) look good in the eyes of peers
d) maybe, it is the right thing to do (which will only be realized years after)

I have better arguments for this, but I'm too hungry.
hello, beef steak!

Thursday, October 29, 2009

I think I made you up in my mind.

give me a suggestion,
something that slips my mind,
something I see everyday and take for granted.
something new, but wasn't the main appeal.

I go by days hearing this suggestion.
replays.
time decides on a long pause,
then it grows.

a combustion of curiosity,
familiarity, and then turned into very much, action.

then, logic fades.
desperation speaks.

chocolate conversations.

not talking about boys at an odd 3am with girls
is like putting off chocolate.
it's just by your bedside,
and you try your hardest not to look at it,
so you distract yourself with other things
but your mind suddenly rewinds to the last time you ate a chocolate bar
and how fucking amazing it felt.

okay maybe i'm craving for chocolate.

so let's take one night,
after a friend's gig at a bar,
two girls go out to eat,
and starts talking about, well, what else, boys.

it's not about who,
but the familiarity of the conversations.
boy, you'd think we learn by now,
but we sure don't.
yes we take a little from the past,
but the future seems hopeful.


we ponder for about an hour,
about how in general,
girls act when they have crushes.
they get all gooey inside and cancel everything in their schedule book
just so when he calls, she's be all cool like
"tonight? hmmm. let me see. oh! yeah I'm free tonight. What's up?"
what you don't know is her heart beats faster than a race car
and she'll probably jump right after she hung up.
but then after few dates, few days, few months,
it gets sour.
he doesn't seem that interesting anymore,
he doesn't give you thrills.

so if i may conclude; people chase thrills.

girl don't chase the boy
boy don't chase the girl
we all chase the thrill.

of first impressions, first conversations, first smile, first laugh.

Tuesday, October 27, 2009

you really think I'm pathetic?

because I'd like to remind you, who you choose to be with.
who you're going back and forth with.
who's on your mind after a heavy night,
we bumped into her and you stayed at the corner,
while your friends and I chat.
yeah about how much of a bitch she is.
and that did not come out of my mouth.

I'm taking about the man slaves.
the guy with the ex girlfriend baggage.
she's like your puppeteer,
she shoves you away when she has someone to like,
and pulls you back in when she wants to.

you try to get back in the game,
like this girl, that girl and go out with those girls.
they're awesome
but they're not like your ex girlfriend.
you try getting to know this girl, that girl and maybe kiss those girls.
but you said it yourself,
you admitted it in a monotone conversation we once had.

"so do you like this kind of music?"
"naah, I don't listen to this cause MY EXGIRLFRIEND listens to it."

so if you concluded that I'm the one still hung up on my past,
I think you should see yourself in the mirror,
you shifted the blame and the burden
make it all seem like we were damaged because of me.
but all these while, it was you.

I'm not talking about this anymore.
I'm done, with you*.



*eep. I HOPE.

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

can we just be friends?

via tumblr

"can we just be friends?" he said.
i hear that one too many times from many boys.
in the harshest tone, followed by a dial tone, and never to see again.
or in the softest voice like, "you know, i love you as a friend."

by now I should be bulletproof,
but that's not how a human is built.
they fall and rise back up again.
sometimes forgetting the lesson they've learned in the past mess
thinking, "hey this time it'll be different."
or "this time, it'll work."

and that is how passion plays with your mind.
it forgets everything else and lives, for the moment.
i'm not looking for observation
and another type of fling that gets away in distant seconds,
i'm not here to bitch about those who have hurt me,
and i'm not exactly one to be accused of innocence.

years of crushing, i thought i've got it figured out.
but i'm only 19.
and this pain, is nothing compared to the future
or maybe, God has something good in line for me.

for now, solitude is my love.

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