"
Breathe, keep breathing. Don't lose your nerve" -
Radiohead



Page 22: Seeds of Happiness

/ Tuesday, December 28, 2010 /
There were times when you think that life’s a bitch. When everything falling apart. When everything didn’t work the way you want it. When you think you’d searched happiness everywhere but you failed. You couldn’t find it. And somehow agony, despair, and anger found you. Offering companionship you’ve always wanted from happiness..

And it’s ok. It really is. Those feelings could bring lots of..inspirations to create something; writings, drawings, paintings, or conceptual photograph, etc. It’s ok to hang out with them. But don’t spoil them too much. I’m afraid they’ll turn into this horrible tyrant inside of you.

And I do agree with Roman Muradov, “some people are more cheerful than others, it’s far more absurd to treat one’s character and emotional state as a sort of sickness. “ But in the other hand, I also believe that the seeds of happiness actually stay within every soul. You just have to give the right treats so it’ll grow. Give them chance to grow.

I may not be the luckiest girl in the world who always gets anything I want, thus I never feel sad. I’m not Poppy in Happy Go Lucky who look like she just had tons of marijuana, most of the time. *I love that movie, by the way. “En-ra-haaa.. En-ra-haaa” xD


But I know when agony appears in a form of this gentle and caring friend who let you spill everything through anything. And I also know that life and time never give a chance for something to become eternal: that friendship, between you and agony won’t last forever. That friendship becomes weirder; sometimes agony ask too much of your attentions..

That’s when I need simple things which I called “happiness triggers”. Just by look, smell, listen or taste them, seeds of happiness within me reacts.. And I smile..

It’s in a cup of warm coffee. It’s in the sight of a dusk (I wanna use the word “twilight”, but I’m afraid people think I’m talking about that crappy movie). It’s in the scent of a book (me like sniffing it..hmm..). It’s in my nieces’ and nephew’s smile when they see me. It’s in the songs from my favorite musicians. It’s in the sound that came out when my father plays harmonica. It’s in my mother’s voice when she told me stories about my family. It’s in the scent of vanilla and white musk. It’s in the “I miss you” note, or text, someone sent to me (of course not from the annoying one). It’s in the chocolate. It’s in the blueberry. It’s in the cheese. It’s in the ice cream. It’s in the drizzle that pouring down from the sky while I'm in my room. It’s in the Album Donal Bebek. It’s in the blog of this one smart-funny-good-taste-in-music guy. It’s in a pair of my old converse shoes..

Yeah.. those are my triggers.. Maybe you can start to write yours, too..

---------------------------

Inspired by someone who once, asked where’s happiness..

Page 21: Curiosity Killed The Cat

/ Monday, December 27, 2010 /
Wrath
Greed
Sloth
Pride
Lust
Envy
Gluttony

That’s seven deadly sins, a classification of objectionable vices that has been used since early Christian times to educate and instruct followers concerning fallen humanity’s tendency to sin. A list of things that considered being seven evil seeds which inspired Andrew Kevin Walker to wrote Se7en’s script.

Sometimes I wonder if Curiosity could be on the list too. Once, I read this phrase: “First human’s sin would be curiosity. It was curiosity that made Eve ate the apple (or Khuldi, or fruit of Knowledge of Good and Evil, or we can simply called it, “the it fruit”). And so she ditched God rules for not ate them. Causing The Fall” [I forgot who wrote that. Perhaps Jostein Gaarder, or I might have read it from some book I borrowed from a friend. Or it was just my imagination.]

Maybe that kind of curiosity was a part of lust. Not sexual-lust. But more like something that you have to feed, inside of you.  Or maybe curiosity is just something you have to control before you crossing the line and make too much trouble to handle. Just like that famous proverb used to warn against being too curious, "curiosity killed the cat". You have to use it wisely. You can control it. That’s why it’s not on the list (?). Hmm. Maybe.

Oh, crap. Even when I wrote this, my curiosities about “Original Sin” and “Deadly Sins” increased, lead me to read wiki about it and clicked every word which triggered another curiosity. And how could I end up reading about misogyny anyway while I still got a lot of thing to do? Oh, yeah, that thing: curiosity. Shoot!



Page 20: Current Obsession

/ Thursday, December 23, 2010 /
Me waaaannnttt...

...charm bracelet with unicorn pendant on it..

Ultimately, crave for this one:
but it's very expensive :(

Page 19: Invisible Butterfly

/ /

I’m a 4, and you’re a six. Probably six and a half. I know we’re not at the same level. And I know, yes I know, you’re just another beautiful creature whom I throw my heart on to. And you probably have no time to catch it, and it may splatter on the pavement*. Ah, yes, same stupidity I made long time before.

You probably out of my league.

But I have the right to let this invisible butterfly staying in my stomach for a while, right? Just for a while. It  probably dead before you know its existence..

:)

*inspired by Adinda Silitonga’s post: 2.7.10

Page 18: They Can Be Pain in the ass, but...

/ /
 photo courtesy: www.detik.com

I know Mikrolet drivers can be pain in the ass, most of the time.

I hate them when they driving wildly. I hate them when they “ngetem”, waiting for passengers and spend a long...long...looo-ooong time in one place, causing traffic jam. I hate them when I want to cross the street, instead of giving me chance like, 10 seconds (?) they speed-up like they want to hit me.

I hate them for many reasons...

But still, it was odd watching a person who owns a fancy car like Mercedes, or BMW, asked a mikrolet driver to pay the damage when a little crash happened between them. I witnessed it on one day. Don’t they usually have car insurance? Those reach people... I mean, when you’re that rich and can afford that kind of car, you also have money to maintain it and prepare for the worst, right?

It’s just a little scratch. Yes, I know it’s gonna be expensive. And perhaps that mikrolet driver was the one to blame. And I definitely don’t know how it feels to find flaws on my luxurious car. But, oh, how do I say this.. That fancy car probably worth 10 times the mikrolet, or more. I assumed the same scale for spare part, service, and repair. How could you asked someone with a much much much lower income than you, pay for the entire bill? I’m not saying that they can runaway from their responsibilty, but  you can give them a little “mercy”. I don’t know, that sight, it’s..just..weird.. A little. But weird, still… Tsk..

Page 17: Move On From That Sucky Merry Go Round

/ Monday, December 20, 2010 /
Move on.
Six characters, easy to spell, but for some people, is like a pain in the ass. Hehe.

Sometimes it took years to get over with something or someone. It’s not always about someone you’d dated long time before. It’s more. It could be a person that used to be your friend. Or dream job. Or hope. Or death of your beloved one..

And it’s like Trojan in your chest, in your mind, when you think that you have moved on, but actually there’s wicked glue on your feet, and you haven’t moved an inch.

You know you haven’t moved on, when you hear this one particular song and it reminds you of him or her in this sucky emotional thing that changes your mood drastically.
You know you haven’t moved on, when you saw him with his new girlfriend on his facebook account, and you have nothing to say, except, “ooh...” or “hmm...” And you went straight to the toilet, thought you have to pee, but hell no, you actually don’t. You cried...
You know you haven’t moved on, when you're stalking that person and watch every single picture about his/her activity on twitter or facebook or other social network site.
You know you haven’t moved on, when you said horrible things about this person, just because you can’t figure out other way to draw his/her attention.
You know you haven’t moved on, when you’d wish you said something or act differently, couple of years ago.
You know you haven’t moved on...just like you know when you’re in love. You just know...





There’s a thin line between “just-remember-because-of-one-suddenly-trigger” and “stuck-in-a-suck-merry-go-round”. Go figure it out which one you’re at right now. And make a move. I’m not saying is going to be easy. But i think it’s better than doing nothing..

Page 16: Another Heroin Beside Urasawa Naoki

/ Friday, December 17, 2010 /
Roman Muradov. I promise I’ll follow his works just like I did with Urasawa Naoki. Of course both of them have different style. But they have this similarity…this..magic that makes me crave for their works more, and more. I love his works. Everything! Illustrations, comics, writings, and short stories – especially comics. He’s brilliant. My favorite one - seems like everyone's fav too - is the lonely bear. Dark, but can put a smirk on your face. Somehow, Muradov can captured and portray loneliness in the right way: that being alone and lonely is different. Loneliness is within you... You can’t expel it by hundreds of people around you. You can’t make it disappear just by having companion.

Meet Muradov



And the lonely bear

*Gosh, I really wanna hug that bear. At least once in his life… :) *


Other works

Find more of him in this site

Page 15: Sometimes... (part 3)

/ Wednesday, December 15, 2010 /
sometimes..

a nice dream can turn into nightmare; 
because in reality, they vanish


image: Lulla by Cempaka Surakusumah

Page 14: Sometimes... (part 2)

/ /
sometimes...

people want u to be around them simply because u're a good listener.


just 
listener.

not because they consider u as a friend..
 
 image: dead by M. Hendra Permana

Page 13: Fragile Things

/ Tuesday, December 14, 2010 /
"There are so many fragile things, after all.
People break so easily,
And so do dreams and hearts"


Neil Gaiman said that. At introduction section in Fragile Things that makes my heart jumped a little when that verse read. And this thought came to me: your hope and dreams are things that make your heart break faster when you’re in love, beside its role as happy pill, of course. I'll give you an example. Once, my friend tweeted that he wish this person whom he had crush for, do bad things so he didn’t have to put a high expectations that they can actually be together. It really makes sense.  Let’s say, you like this guy, and he’s being nice to you. It’s really hard to think that he’s just being nice. Maybe that thought had crossed in your mind. But it wasn’t the only thing. Admit it. You’d wish he do that because he likes you.

 
The thing about dreams are, it makes you float – or fly, whatever suits you – while reality is the gravity that put you back to the ground. But the most irritating point, they don’t come together. Never. Dreams always come first. Take you to the sky. High. Fly. HIGH! And then reality comes: that you and that person can’t be together. Boom! You back to the ground. Fast and hard. Reality bites. And like Radiohead said, “gravity always wins”.

 And your heart breaks into pieces… Sometimes too tiny until you couldn’t find all of its parts. Even if you find them all, you’ll be frustrated try to put it back together. Plus heal it. Extra homework, dude… Extra.

But hey, don’t be sad. Gaiman also said that

“The peculiarity of most things we think of as fragile is how tough they truly are.
Hearts may break, but hearts are the toughest of muscles, able to pump for a lifetime,
Seventy times a minute, and scarcely falter along the way
Even dreams, the most delicate and intangible of things, can prove remarkably difficult to kill.”


So it’s really okay to put hope on those beautiful creatures, as long as you know when to stop. Yeah, when it hurts too much…

[But...how much is too much?]

------------------------------------------------

 
image: Fragile Things by Lacey Bryant

Page 12: Sleep Tight, Matin

/ /
And we all went to heaven in a little row boat
There was nothing to fear and nothing to doubt

- Radiohead, Pyramid Song-

Just like déjà vu. My grandmother's death in the past, and yours. It feels like both of you haven’t really died. Maybe because I never really see your bodies. Whether when you were lying on the casket or when they put you to the grave. Or when you’re dealing with your disease.

Lately I’ve been trying to remember where did i put that cassette with your voice recorded in it. I'm afraid I’ll forget. A little. How’s exactly the sound of your voice. I don’t know. Maybe because I want to try to remember the lessons that come out from your mouth about doing job with sincerity, things that will make us feel great in life. Advices that I’d doubted at that time and make you shocked a little when hearing it. It wasn’t felt like an interview, eh? More like a debate between two friends. In fact, we only met a few minutes that night. On the campus where you used to park that motorcycle with a bike basket on the front.

You're a silly psycho. Hehe. Always do things spontaneously. Suddenly hiking without wearing thick clothes and brought other supplies. Go to the beach instantly. Resign from a company just because they want you to change your appearance. But you did it all because you think it could make you happy. And it’s true. You’re happy for following your passion. Making comics, or becoming art teacher at kindergarten; persuade your students to paint, dance, sing, or learn to love nature. And you keep trying to prove that the seeds of happiness are within us and can grow as time flies.

You worshipped morning and sun rise. Even when you go to bed so late, you've always try to watch it.

In the morning your messages would arrived at my cell phone. Telling me about the beauty of morning that I often passed, because I still fall asleep. I said I liked twilight. And we’d argued, which is more beautiful: the sunrise or sunset. It’s not important, right? Haha.

You said you want to meet a person whom you called a big Norvan: my father. Both of you have the same born day. And both of you have the same favorite musical instruments: harmonica. [I still want to see your thumb-sized harmonica]. Even your opinion about celestial objects was similar with his. You’re look like him. Spontaneous and humorous.

And there were stories that only you and I would know. About morning and dusk. About Radiohead. About poems and hope. Oh dear, If only I know your time was this short, I would have come to your wedding. I would’ve come to your comic launch. And maybe I’d have the chance to meet your kids: Ranu and Vulkan.

Well, but there’s no such thing called Time Machine...

So... rest in peace, buddy ... It's really nice to know you ...  :,)



In memoriam, Norvan Hardian
(06.02.1979 - 19.12.2010)
A Friend, a Teacher, a Father

Page11: Sometimes.. (part 1)

/ Saturday, December 11, 2010 /
sometimes i wish a heart can be just like a smartphone...

you
could
just...

"reset to factory settings"

whenever pain and sadness start to crawling in..

image taken from Dave McKean's A Small Book of Black & White Lies - Queen

Page 10: My Current Addiction

/ Thursday, December 9, 2010 /
Blonde Redhead
"My Impure Hair"

I've lost my key
I've gone too far
Was it enough to make you sick ?
Maybe I live again, but would I lose again my virginity ?
Oh, my virginity

I'm shaped to get in your way
But in the end
We defend our decadence
You never wept like that
Whatever lost I won't forget about you
Oh, forget about you

It's not what I said, it's what you said
It's what you did did that belongs to everyone
It's not what I hate, it's what you hate
Its decadence belongs to everyone

One day I lie next to you and you stroke my impure hair

-----------------------------------------------------------------

kazu really took me to that gloomy land.. *sigh

Page 9: Dear Smart Ass and Tunnel-Minded Person..

/ /

Please...
Stop lecturing me about how to make a good news if; you’re not a journalist, never been, or didn’t take journalism as your major at college, and the most of all, if your writings sucks.
Stop telling me things I’ve already know (or even 14 years old kiddo would). I’m not a genius, but I’m not that dumb.

Please...
Stop saying that you don’t like feminist just because you think all feminists in the world are men hater. Go read Feminist Thought by Rosemarie Tong as a start. Or googled it, you can easily find its definition on wiki, if, like you said, you’re not a book person. Find at least, one kick-ass qualified book, or journal, or movie before you start blabbering about that topic.

Please...
Stop mention “anarchism” each time you find brutally vandalism happened. It’s a wrong term to be used. And it’s a ridiculous scene saw you yapping, throwing all of that meaningless words.
I’m not saying I’m smarter than you in every case. But at least I'd try to digging on something before I give my opinion. If I didn’t know anything about it, I’ll simply ask or shut my mouth.

Please...
For Gondry’s sake, please, stop being such a smart ass… Stop humiliating yourself…

;)

Page 8: Just… Spill It Out

/ Monday, December 6, 2010 /
If 100% is for robot and 97% for Sheldon Cooper, then 70% is for me. 70% emotionally-insensitive. Actually it’s a rough guessing. But I think “70” is pretty safe level to tell that I’m bad at reading people’s feelings, but not that bad. Of course I can tell that someone is grieving when they’re crying out loud or sobbing. But I can’t tell by their body language or micro expressions. For example, once, I didn’t know if my close friend been mad at me for almost two weeks. Yes. Two weeks. After my other friend explained to me those signs; she didn’t replied when I asked her something (if she did, she wasn’t look at my face at all), she didn’t say hi to me like she used to, and she leaves whenever I came in to the same room – then I realized the big scheme. That “Oooh.. Now I get it...” moment finally reach me! Hahaha.

Or, when there’s one guy who said he like me and kind of ask me to become his girlfriend, but I thought he’s joking. After he explained to me about this and that with awkward gesture, I still laugh. I softly slap his head and leave him while saying that was a good joke. But it wasn’t my fault. Not completely. I mean, he’s my friend and we used to pretend we were couple. (Again) after the other friend told me that he actually means it, I started to believe that he wasn’t prank me. But hey, he didn’t say anything about it after that day, so I’ve change my mind again and keep the thought that maybe he didn’t really want me to become his girlfriend. Stupid me. Stupid him. Stupid good ol’ day. :D

I mean, if you have something to say to me, just say it. Say it clearly. Dude, I’m not a psychic. Nor Professor Xavier or Jane Grey who can read your mind. I think that’s why I like ‘Lie to Me’ TV series. Because it teaches me and give a quick tips how to read people’s emotion.  Well, it’s not always correct. *Oh how I wish I were Dr. Lightman.

But this trait becomes some kind of a nice shield, i think. I don’t have to think about what people think for every action I’ve made, especially if that person is annoying. I can’t imagine how tired it would be. I’m indifference and easy going. Never feel what people called wrath. But if I don’t like you, you can see it easily. (“don’t like”, not “hate”. Hate is a strong word. So I try not to cross the line.) It’s not because I want to show it, but it’s something that I can’t hide.


Luckily, I have some sensitive best friends who willing to explain me about hidden emotions in people. I learned from them too. Well, sometimes I forgot what they’d taught me. My bad. x)

So, what’s the point of this post, kiddo? The point is….If you love me, or hate me, or think I’m such an annoying human being, just spill it out.  :D

Page 7: Miss Pettigrew Said..

/ Wednesday, December 1, 2010 /
Not everything comes along just when we want it. There are times when choices have to be made or you certainly will miss out. Your heart knows the truth. Trust it. For life is short.




But my dear Miss Pettigrew, I've tried to listen to my heart long time ago.. And it didn't went well.. It's broken into pieces.. How come? Was it blabbering too much?

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