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Showing posts from May, 2018

I'm floating.

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Have you ever felt like you're floating?
Have you been losing grip with yourself?
Knowing me as a self, yet why do I feel like scattered pieces?
I got to visit the place I once hung with my friends back in 2012. That moment, I just recently broke up with my boyfriend when I met him. We hung out a couple of times 'til he went back to States and a year after, I left to Russia.

It's been 6 years since that day; I have finished both of my degrees, had gotten back then broken up again with my ex-boyfriend, dated 2 guys that also didn't last, been single for almost 3 years and still having a hard time finding my real crush, I now have a settle job, still feeling so unaccomplished as a person, still trying to find my true calling, trying to give my life meaning while I get drown each passing day with work - at the same time thinking about applying for school next year, and above all.. I often spend my time now trying to find myself I left somewhere I don't remember. As it f…

To cope with the non existence.

I was probably 15, when I left Oma's home crying on my ojek while we waved each other goodbye.
Since my family moved to Jakarta in 1998, I had always spent my Saturday at Oma's home. It had become Oma's day, so I didn't really have the history of Saturday night out, since Saturday for me has always been big family day.
During elementary school. My school was just a few steps away from Oma's home. When I spent the night at hers, which rarely happened, my friend used to pick me up in the morning as we later walked together to school. No rush, I had never come late to school back in the days. Especially when I slept at hers, I had to wake up early cause Oma's breakfast was not a regular one. I usually had cinnamon bread with a glass of milk - and you should know, it has never been easy to finish a glass of plain milk in the morning. But then, Oma's rules was Oma's rules, couldn't leave the house before I finish my milk, otherwise I had to promise her …

Last Wednesday.

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Wednesday has always been the busiest day of the week. I have three classes from 7.30 to 15.00, which most of the time followed by another meeting after 15.30 - who am I? I often wonder. How can I get so busy like this, yet I am far to feel important. HAHA! Well that's, pretty accurate.
Last Wednesday, I spent my lunch time talking to students from three different departments in my faculty; public policy, sociology, and communication. One of them is a girl - the one from communication. We were discussing about the student orientation that is about to be held in August. I know, still few months away yet final exam is coming in weeks, as well as Ramadan. So we better get everything ready before that. I tried to keep it as effective and quick as possible, since I was so exhausted for waking up way too early two days in a row, and plus, we still have a bigger meeting later that afternoon with the whole team at 15.30 so the decision was rational. We wrapped up at 13.00 which made the …

“I’m in the ruins too."

Today was long, and didn’t go quite like how I planned it. Oh but really, like it ever did. I’ve been listening to Snow Patrol’s new albumWildnesslately. I love it! It’s like going back to the old Chasing Cars era again. Been stuck with What If This Is All the Love You Ever Get?And it breaks my heart a little. I really love the idea of making a music video in the middle of the ocean, playing sad heartbreaking song as if it was possible to change the past.
It was Friday night, I was lying on my brother’s bed listening to some music from youtube. As I lied down, I was suddenly reminded of some old songs written about me. You know who you are, and I know you know what I’m talking about.
I still remember vividly how people used to make fun of me through those songs and the countless poetries that followed. I remember I had become one heartless bitch by yelling at him for doing so. While honestly, I loved the poetries, and although I don’t really like all the songs, but I loved the lyrics,…

The Year of Insignificance; Welcome Back!

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"Buddha teaches us the art of cheerful despair."
I came across the line above few days ago I don't remember where, but it must have been from one of the Stoic's books or articles I've been reading these past months.
I've been blogging since forever until one day I decided to quit, simply because everything about my life had gotten so personal and I didn't think I was ready to meet the possibility of having people talk to me like;
"Hey, I read your blog the other day, I'm sorry for what happened."
It happened several times in the past, and I finally said to myself - No, you can't do this anymore. People need to talk to me personally to know what happened with my life, with me. I realized that I tend to get too overwhelmed by the idea of writing out my feelings, so that quit writing publicly sounded like a good idea back then. Otherwise, I would had gone mad thinking about how detached I could become with myself. But it was then, not far …