Ever in your favour

When you keep beating the odds, surely the odd will eventually topple, right?

When life gives you lemons

From my time working at print media, I've learnt that magazines work two months in advance. This means that for our October issue, we are already working on it in August. Some magazines can work up to three months in advance; I was only so lucky to work in one where I won’t have to project my ideas so far ahead in time.

Actually, I wish I could work on my life how I would work on a magazine: planning in advance. I’m not even planning for what I’m having for dinner tomorrow, let alone what I’ll be doing in two months time (I actually do know and I’m really excited about it, but that’s besides the point).

Some part of me believes that everything will fall into place just the way it’s supposed to no matter how hard I try to plan my future. But that other part of me is skeptical and I know better that things won’t just fall into my lap. So what do I do? Of course the wise answer is to plan regardless of how it will be like 5 years down the road. But if a different path is carved out for me then, I would have wasted years of planning.

My father never dreamed of sitting down at a fancy restaurant, having the best steak and wine dinner in the world (it really was) for my 19^th birthday. He came from a small village where everyone knew each other and where only two known people owned a car. Now, he lives in the city, after having travelled to almost every continent. He acquired a degree for teaching English but never taught a class in his life. Instead, he started up one of the country’s best advertising agencies back in his day.

Truth is, life is weird. You graduate high school and after, you’re going to earn a degree in accounting or law or whatever. But then you end taking what seems to be an endless gap year. I never thought I’d actually get a real definition of the phrase, “You’ll never know what life throws at you”, but now I have. And I still don’t know what else it’s going to throw at me. Maybe tomorrow… Maybe next year. I also don't know when it's going throw something at me. But when I finally get it, I will be prepared. 

Revelations

When I read quotes or interviews of celebrities or other credible people that says something along the lines of "just be yourself" or "don't care about what others think", I thought to myself, how hard could that possibly be? Like, really?

Maybe it's just the hint of clichéd arrangement of words or maybe it was my young arrogant self, but I've always thought I was myself for a very long time. I wasn't trying to be anyone else by changing my hair, clothes or personality. I owned my own self. Or at least I thought I had.

Wearing a cardigan over your spaghetti-strapped tank to please your aunts isn't doing justice to "being yourself". Nor is buying a Nintendo DS when all you really wanted was a PSP, but because all your friends had it, you should too. I realised all of this just a tad bit too late but it's better late than never.

The root of my problem is that I stand out a little too much. And I mean that in the least haughty way possible. I don't know whether it's because of my "bule" looks or the way I walk/dress/talk - but I can never walk down my own street (or anywhere for that matter) without being fully stared at.

I guess it kind of bugs me that I just can't be unnoticeable for one day. Because of this, I try to do everything I can in my power to be... Less noticeable. I always dress down, wear my hair like I don't care and just hunch whenever I feel like I'm taller than most.

Because of this I never wore the things I really wanted to wear. Or else I'd be gawked at.

Now those clichéd quotes were clichéd for a reason. Because they have never been truer (I should really fine myself for how insanely cheesy I sound but the truth's the truth!). Never did I think those words would mean anything more than Hilary Duff trying to sound noble.

So this is the part where you say "screw other people's opinions", because I am aware that maybe I'll never go unnoticed. Maybe I'll always get the head-to-toe glances from girls who aren't even my age. So I might as well stand out. Stand out as much as I possibly can. At least then I'll give them something actually worth staring at.


xo,

S

Hunger

Have you ever felt so hungry but you didn't eat in time to fulfill the hunger, so you're just not hungry anymore? This is probably the best and closest thing to describe my life right now. Straight after high school, I was hungry; I was ready to eat, I was ready to do my work experience and to prepare myself for university. But something came up so I was late for dinner and didn't end up eating anything because it's way past dinner time. I thought that maybe I could still eat, maybe I could just start university soon, but the want is no longer there.

I guess it's true when people say the longer you put it off, the more put off by it you'll become. Everything has its time and when its dragged out for long, it kind of just loses its pa-zam. Especially when everyone you know is out there living their uni lives and you're stuck at home writing in your blog. From where I went to school, it was expected of you to immediately start uni or college straight after high school graduation. A gap year is usually frowned upon and not highly recommended. So when I show up to retrieve my IB Diploma, back in the foyers of my high school mid-January, my teachers were a bit confused as to oh, I dunno, why I'm still here. "I'm just gonna really miss it here, Miss. I don't want to leave just yet," said no one. Ever. I guess now I realise why they never spoke highly of gap years: it's because your brain gets fried and you'll never want to continue education again. That's true, but mostly the former part of that reason. Well, a fried brain is a bit of a hyperbole but my point is still intact; I haven't done anything productive in the last month and a bit, that included any form of writing, which I'm supposed to love doing. And I have lost all motivation to start this new "job" I'm supposed to have next month. I think all of this is happening because I just really want to go to university. 

My friends are complaining about how long and boring their lectures are, how early they have to get up and all the tasks they have to complete. In all brutal honesty, I'd rather be doing that than making my Sims go to uni. It's even harder when I have a madre who keeps wanting what her friends' children has for me. "So and so's daughter/son got a scholarship to study in Tokyo. It irritates me how you can't get that?" I know my time will come eventually, I can't put off university for so long. One way or another, really. But like I said earlier, everything has its time. Maybe in a year or so, I'd rather be working because all my friends have earned their degrees. So me, just having gone through Freshers Week or O-Week wouldn't be much fun. However on the other side of the spectrum, everything has its time, and my time for uni will be later on. I guess that's the light at the end of the tunnel. That's the moral of the story, boys and girls.
Meh.

Leap of faith

I did the most unexpected thing yesterday: I saved a life! Out of all the infrequent morning walks I take, this happened. Not that I'm saying it in a bad way. In fact, I think it has made a pretty good start to the new year.

My mother decided to join me on yesterday's walk and in hindsight, she was a big help. We walked the usual route, and half way through, I heard what sounded like a cry for help. I had to search where the sound was coming from until I saw him peering out from a fence of what seemed to be a house/small office type lot. My eyes quickly scanned the situation he was in: shivering, panicking and alone with the exception of his sibling's corpse. He was squeezing through the gap to escape the pungent smell but even if he did succeed, a metre-tall drop to the sewer awaits him. If the fall won't kill him, the cold water will.

So I thought fast.

I quickly grabbed him in my hands and the old lady who lives across gave me a plastic bag to carry it home. "Carry it home", you say? Yes, I say. Because I saved a kitten.

I could not tell you how fast I ran my way back home with the abandoned kitty in my hands. The sound of it's sad meows chipped away bits of my heart and I thought, "I'm going to take good care of you." Now, I'm not the biggest feline expert but I am well aware that the kitten's mother could've been out looking for food. However, after seeing his sibling being swarmed by flies, it's hard to imagine that their mother being gone for only a few hours. It must've been days.

Isn't there something wrong with this story? There is something very wrong. Firstly, these kittens were inside someone's lot. Next to the distressed kitty, lies a plastic plate of milk. Clearly, someone within the the lot placed it there - the gaps of the fence were too small for an outsider to do it. It's likely that the kittens' mother gave birth to them there and left but the lot's owner was able to just ignore that? To the point where one of them died? 

Another weird thing I notice was the reaction of the old lady that lived across from the lot. She was walking back from getting groceries when she noticed my mum and I assessing the kitten's situation. She said that "there were five of them but three died within the last few days." Isn't that so strange? She clearly knew but has done nothing about it. This was what saddened me the most.

As I was running back home with the kitten in the bag, I heard things from "why are you carrying a dirty cat" to "that is so disgusting". I was clearly labeled as, what Indonesians would say, aneh, because I was saving a kitten. Because I was saving a life, I was classed as weird. I'm sure if it was a human in need of rescuing, it would be the opposite. Or not... The doubt I have scares me.

Is it because they are afraid of responsibility? Or some commitment/association issues? Over a cat? It makes me really sad. What struck me was that I started to imagine what the little kitten was going through: the mother's abandonment, death of sibling in front his eyes, hunger, the cold... And I couldn't let it stay there. Maybe that's what the other people didn't feel... Sympathy.

Once I brought it home, my domestic helper's 3 year-old son was excited about a new critter in the house. He wasn't scared nor was he disgusted - it was just another living and breathing thing... Like us. After my mum repeatedly said how the kitten had no mother and no milk, it shook something in him. All of a sudden he burst out crying and everyone rushed out thinking the kitten scratched him or something but really, he was just sympathizing for the kitten. The exact opposite of the people I encountered.

And this is a 3 year-old boy -  who can barely concise a proper sentence - feeling sad for the kitten. A boy who has hardly stepped out into the real world and with very little influence from other people, in fact. It just goes to show how much people can change you as you grow up. Mold you and shape you into society's "norms". It isn't bad but it sure isn't good, either.

I felt shunned from my own neighborhood but it's okay because I got something good out of it. I took the risk of taking him in and after only a day, Leap is looking much better.

Frozen: the amateurish review

It's been a while since I watched a Disney movie in the cinemas. Just earlier this week, I watched the highly anticipated Disney animation Frozen for the second time. And let me tell you: it's been quite some time that a movie made me genuinely laugh and smile (either that, or the type of movies I watch are seriously depressing).

I watched it without high expectations - I haven't even seen the theatrical trailers, either - and knew nothing of the plot whatsoever. From only looking at the posters I expected some generic story about an evil ice queen, thawing the town/land/kingdom of eternal winter (Narnia, anyone?) and having an underdog save the day. But boy, was I way off. Spoilers from here on out, people!

Like most Disney animations, I expected nothing less of the characters being able to break out into a song at any given moment. The songs were so immensely happy I found myself literally grinning from ear-to-ear. Some songs even gave me the chills.. Idina Menzel's voice acting as Elsa was so spot-on that it actually scared me. And I mean that in the best way possible.

Apart from the perfection that is Christophe Beck's scores, there is the plot. No plot is perfect, of course, and Frozen is no exception. However, after watching the 90-minute animation, you eventually forget the minor plot holes and find yourself praising over the beautiful moral of the story instead of nit-picking the fact that Elsa's dress isn't actually ice so how-could-she-possibly-make-it kind of thing.

Speaking of Elsa, she may have just been my new favourite Disney character. Why? Because she's a badass. Ok no, in all seriousness though, I have only one word to describe her: misunderstood heroine. Alright, so that's two words.. Hush now. For those who have seen the movie (or the trailers), you'll understand me when I legitimately thought that she'll turn into a stone cold biatch as the movie progresses. Here we have Princess of Arendelle, struggling to cope with her "icy magic". She wasn't cursed but rather born with it. Whether it's genetic or what, we'll never know. But it doesn't really matter, does it? Here is a perfect example of brilliant pacing! Anyway. As a child, Elsa accidentally hurt her sister Anna with her powers and a series of events involving self-isolation follows soon after. Cue the song "For the First Time In Forever" where Anna expresses her excitement of opening her then "shut tight" gates of the castle.

lost her parents during her teens, she was never taught on how to control her powers. Thus leaving her vulnerable and scared of her own abilities. So when Anna pushed her too far during her coronation night, which lead her to uncontrollably unleash her powers and harming civilians, I totally understood! I feel you, Elsa gurl. What happens after struck me: Elsa flees and retreats to her handmade ice castle whilst Anna runs after her, hoping to resolve the accidental icy winter. And guess what? They didn't need men for that. I love it!

Sure, there was that cutsie Kristoff and Hans but they didn't rely on them for "true love" or a kiss to awaken them from deep slumber or whatever it is that seems to happen a lot. In fact, this movie was like a big middle finger to the renaissance Disney films - these two sisters were able to survive without them, because the real true love they had was each other. Best.

So I thank you, Disney, for showing the kids of this generation that you can't marry someone you just met because that's ludicrous. Thank you for adding a refreshing twist to your movie 'formulas'. I look forward to the next vague one-word title feature films.

I don't even know

The premise is that the eldest sibling gets the most pressure. He/she has to set the right examples to the other siblings, be a good role model and everything else that requires to be the "perfect child". But what happens if he/she "screw up", in the eyes of his/her parents? Hypothetically speaking, the parents would now look to the other child and subconsciously instill pressure to be what the elder sibling wasn't. Hypothetically speaking.

So that premise flies out the window. It is the youngest that is faced with high expectations. And I happen to be the last out of three kids.

Fortunately, till this day, I have never really received the downside of being the youngest. Especially thirteen years younger. It's always been easy: I get called 'cute' most of the time, I never got into fights with my siblings and of course, I get all the attention in terms of being spoilt. Now I get plentiful of attention, but more of a... 'closely-monitored' attention.

See, my siblings and I don't live under the same roof. We're actually thousands of miles apart. So I consider myself an only child sometimes. Everything was ok (as listed above) just until recently. Maybe it's been happening way before I noticed it but now that I'm pretty much idle on most days, I'm starting to realise this icky thing called pressure sneaking in. And it's not even the good type.

My siblings' behaviour recently is also a catalyst to the crawling of the poison. Without having to explain the details (or else I'll be here for days typing it out), long story short: my parents are heavily disappointed. So disappointed to the point where I can feel the drag in the room. Their disappointment lightens up as they realise that they have one daughter left that could possibly make up for what their two other children did, or didn't do. Eighteen years of having it easy finally caught up to me.

From academic choices to boyfriends to something as little as reading the right books are being scrutinized. I appreciate the concern from both of my parents and I understand wholly where they're coming from. They feel that they've messed up somewhere along the way in raising my elder siblings and so they only want the best for me. But they shouldn't have to live through the regret of every parental choice they had to make with them.

I don't blame my parents, I really don't.

Accurate

"You know that feeling?
When you're just waiting
Waiting to get home, into your room,
close the door, fall into bed,
and just let everything out that you kept in all day.
That feeling of both relief and desperation.
Nothing is wrong.
But nothing is right either.
And you're tired.
Tired of everything, tired of nothing.
And you just want someone to
be there and tell you it's okay.
But no one's going to be there.
And you know you have to be strong
for yourself, because no one can fix you.
But you're tired of waiting.
Tired of having to be the one to fix yourself and everyone else.
Tired of being strong.
And for once, you just want it to be easy.
To be simple . To be helped. To be saved.
But you know you won't be.
But you're still hoping.
And you're still wishing.
And you're still staying strong and fighting,
with tears in your eyes.
You're fighting."

Highly observants

There’s just something about the way my mother eats her meals. Sometimes I’m just so engrossed and bemused by the way she makes eating more than a necessity; she makes it a passion. Passion, in this case, doesn’t necessarily mean doing it in an obsessive way, just with love. Throughout my whole sixteen years of life, I’ve never seen anyone do quite the same as what my mother does.

Telling others exactly what I mean with this is difficult, let alone trying to write about it. Well here’s me, hoping the power of words will describe my fascination:

Dinners aren’t a usually a big deal in my household – if you want to eat, you may join, if not, feel free to continue on with whatever it is you’re doing. And my mother doesn’t tend to join us a lot; if she did she would come late to the dinner table. She’d take out a plate, place a handful of rice and sit in her designated seat. The rice wasn’t much compared to say, me or my father, but it was enough to fill her up. She then starts with a protein; say chicken or fish, then work her way to getting the vegetables. Here comes the interesting bit: my mother doesn’t care what anyone thinks of what her dish looks like. It may look like the most unappetizing dish in the history of unappetizing dishes but it doesn’t seem to bother her. As long as it tastes good, it pleases her.

My mother loves ‘kecap’. My father detests it. Just the sight of the thick black liquid is enough to make my father squirm a little. In every dish my mother eats, she would ask for kecap. She says, “it makes the dish more alive”. Frankly, I agree with her on that. I have inherited my mother’s love for kecap. Now, a person who likes kecap tends to not like anything of the opposite, like ‘sambal’, and vice versa. Just like my father. My mother’s an exception. She douses on both of these taste enhancers every time. Once everything was on her plate, she starts to dig in. Not in a grubby, stuffing the face, dig in… But in a decadent way. Whatever it is she’s eating, it looks delicious. She makes it look delicious and I believe that’s exactly how one should eat. Perspiration starts to appear on the bridge of her nose the deeper she goes into her dish. But that doesn’t bother her; it didn’t look gross, as one might think. To me, it looks like she’s enjoying herself a lot with something as simple as a dinner. 

Finally, half way through the dish, my mother stands up and walks over to the glass container that’s filled with kerupuk. She grabs a handful not only for herself, but also for both me and my father. It’s the one thing we all like. She puts the kerupuk into her plate and pours some kecap on top of it. The snap of the kecap bottle cap is quickly followed by a sudden simultaneous crunch. 

In a way, I'm sort of envious. I can't deny that I've tried to mimic the way she eats because I've tried countless of times only to be disappointed at the end result. You're probably thinking "eating isn't a piece of artwork - why should you care of how it looks?" and frankly, I don't really know. I guess some things are better left unexplained.

Of course, I haven't told my mother this. I'm afraid if I do, she'll be more conscious about it and maybe even stop and change they way she eats. I could ask her how she manages to do that but maybe some things are better left alone to enjoy rather than imitate. Because really, if I do, I'll be no more than just a copy and who likes those?

Happy birthday mum - here's to the best original of you there ever was!

xo,
S

Metamorphosis

My mother always tells me that I don't have enough friends. Compared to her, who is the biggest social butterfly there is, I am just a caterpillar. Like the caterpillar, I prefer to stay on the ground and make do with just a few essential necessities. Necessities being my closest friends.

I don't know whether it's a preference or I just don't like going through the phase of making new friends (maybe it's both) but I'm someone who would rather have one really good friend instead of a thousand "friends". Maybe I should credit my father who recently admitted to me that ever since I was a pacifier-sucker, he rarely sets play dates for me amongst my fellow toddlers. And he did this for one reason only: my environment is the most influential thing there is.

This is proven by what I've noticed at home. My domestic helper's 2-year-old son, Abi, used to be the sweetest most adorable thing until he befriended my other domestic helper's son. He is about 2 years older, super mischievous and just not nice in general. Gradually, I noticed Abi imitating his new found friend and not the kind of things you'd like to see anyone imitate for that matter. It dawned on me that my dad made the right choice: in sacrifice of me having childhood friends, I became somewhat a "good person". I was never heavily influenced by anything apart from my parents and maybe my sisters. TV and games was never really any trouble to me because I never took it as anything more than just fiction. And fiction should definitely stay fiction.

I make it an effort to cut out the negativity from my life and that usually stems off from the wrong people. I've been called a bitch plentiful of times because of my non-sugar-coating attitude: if I don't like you, I won't talk to you and I won't kiss your ass to create a friendship as real as Paris Hilton's boob job. So, sure. I don't have many friends. And I guess I'm picky in this area of my life. But it's only because I want to surround myself with good nature and maybe learn a thing or two from my environment. Eventually that caterpillar will morph into a butterfly, but a butterfly with stronger, defined wings. 

xo,

S

Out of sight, out of mind

I really need to keep in touch with people.

4 am pondering

A few months ago, two of my friends that have never met before were acquainted. Location: Jakarta Fashion Week. Friend A brought her boyfriend and I brought Friend B. After they have been introduced to one another, Friend A says to me discretely, "Is he your boyfriend?" I laughed like it is the most absurd thing in the world and replied back to her, "No, he's gay."

It wasn't over then. I had to explain the situation to Friend A. There were a lot of 'y'knows' and sentences ending with question marks - like trying to describe to a Ugoslavian how to cook some poached eggs. In the end Friend A understood, but still left the room winking at me as a gesture to make a move on Friend B.

To me, who understands both of their situations, it was frustrating. To Friend A I must've looked like I was making up some massive lie to hide the fact that Friend B is my boyfriend, by using the oh no he's actually gay card. I'm not in 4th grade anymore, I can admit to whoever my boyfriend is. And to Friend B, it's not easy to come out in a country that's so conservative. I thought out of all people, Friend A would've understood better. Friend A is a model. The fashion industry is practically coated with gay men. I guess the problem here is that Friend A understood, but she did not accept.

Recently, a few days back, Friend A and I crossed paths while I was with another group of friends. Including Friend B. I went across the room to converse and she says, "Oh didn't I meet him [Friend B] during Fashion Week?" and I replied with a simple, "Yup." She could've stopped there but she added, "The one that's not normal right?"

What I should've done was paused and questioned what she meant by 'not normal'. Grill her, perhaps, as to what she thinks is 'normal'. But instead, I laughed it off. Maybe it was because of the noise in the room that I couldn't hear exactly what she said but only did I realise after, maybe it was my slow processing of the Indonesian language, maybe maybe maybe.. But really, there's no excuses for what I did.

What is normal? I'm not even going to go into any depth with that to prevent myself writing another Theory of Knowledge Essay. But surely, being gay has nothing to do with being normal. There is no correlation between that, I think. Friend B is capable of things that straight people can do. Why is he not normal? He passed IB with, I must admit, a very good result and he's going off to university doing what he loves.

Now that I think of it, if Friend A thinks like this, how many of her friends thinks the same way? And how many of their friends think the same way? It's a vicious cycle, really. And to think I could've stopped that cycle if only I had just said what I felt. I guess I was too concerned on what she would think of me if I stood up for Friend B.


Forever tolerating and pleasing,
S

"Faith is a house with many rooms."

"But no room for doubt?"
"Oh plenty, on every floor. Doubt is useful, it keeps faith a living thing. After all, you cannot know the strength of your faith until it is tested."

This, I got from watching the movie Life of Pi, based on the book of the same title. The movie, and the book, dealt with sensitive 'issues' that clings on to me. Particularly religion and the element of the unreasonable in it.

From my outburst of curiosity, over our usual normal dinner, I asked my dad: "If you weren't born into a Muslim family, would you have still been a Muslim?" After a long pause he replied with, "That's a good question." He then mentioned how if he were born as, say, a Christian, he would have some temptation to understand the other religion. And he would do the same as a Muslim. He then goes on to say, "We are taught not to keep a closed mind on other religions... But to answer your question, yes, I think I would still have been a Muslim either way." Somehow, a part of my subconscious mind just refuses to believe that at first glance, especially after watching that movie, which then of course led me to blurt out another question.

"Do you ever have any doubt?"

His reply was an immediate and stern "No."

This slightly took me off guard. Maybe it's just me being the naive 17-year old girl that I am, I just found it difficult to comprehend the fact that one could be so sure of something that has so much doubt.

Anyway, the dinner fell silent after that. But towards the end, it was my dad's turn to ask me the questions. "So what is your doubt in Islam?"I should've just lied, I should've just said I didn't have any doubt but in what universe am I able to lie? (Unfortunately, none.) So I said, "Oh you know, I have doubt for it as a whole." Idiot. Of course, my dad wasn't too happy with my answer and he struggled to keep his face from showing any emotion. He then came up with rational reasons as to why there shouldn't be any doubt. "Do you think that trees just appear out of the ground?", "Who do you think created us, human beings?"

Life of Pi taught me that faith can very much be unreasonable and even the most credible thing or someone can be doubted. That nothing in life should ever be an absolute because if that's the case, where's the fun in that? I'm not about to bash my dad's beliefs, I respect him and he is the most credible person I know but I just kind of wish that he understands that he hasn't given me much to think for my own. I dove head first into this pool without learning how to float.

Without doubt, I would have just followed blind faith. I would have just taken religion as it is. Instead, I question it everyday. As of now, my dad thinks I've got a major problem.. For having doubt. Surely I'm not the bad guy here, I can't be blamed for having an overly critical mind.. Can I?


S

Smth a little more personal

You could be so sure about your feelings at one point but strangely enough, it can quickly turn against you.

A year ago I thought I had this unconditional love for someone. Unconditional. That's a strong word. And a strong kind of love. Only now do I realize by giving him that satisfaction, that he can be the only one to break it. And abuse it.

To say that you love someone is always a big statement. Because along the way, things happen. Shit happens. They do things that will break you. Break you to the point that you start to doubt the love you have for them. And the breaking of the trust usually follows straight after.

I'm not saying I'll never give my love away again and I know that not everyone I meet will do the same.  But let's just say I'm not going to open my heart out so easily. I've got walls - great beige ugly walls - around it and all I want is just for someone to tear it down, because I won't. Because then, I'll know he won't take me for granted.

asdfghjkl whatevs. I ask for too much most of the time sometimes.

I realise that this is all a bit lebay, as one one would say in Indonesian, but I had the need to get it out there in the form of this unknown blog. Because... Lebay can be good. It creates good romantic novels, movies (and also the tackiest sinetron but let's just leave that bit out). Ok, irrelevant! Mocks has screwed my mind over, leaving me in an unstable, emotional psyche...

Till my recovery,

S

It's on replay

It just keeps replaying. In my head. Constantly.

Some feelings are just better kept to yourself

That horrible feeling when you fall for someone you really shouldn't.

It's like a pang of sourness runs through you and it tastes good, yet you want it to stop because the taste is actually quite unbearable.

Nothing's wrong with him but everything is wrong about the timing. And everyone knows timing is everything.

Feeling poetic today

They say when you cry in the shower, you can't tell the difference between the water and your tears. It's not all true because, as the tears flow down your face, you can feel it's prickle of warmth contrast against the barely cold water; you can taste the saltiness at the corners of your mouth.

Crying in the shower is just an excuse to face the inevitable.

Not a political ramble

There are many things you can control - what you'll have for lunch, what movie to watch on a Friday afternoon, what shirt to wear with what pants and plenty more. However, there are a lot of other things that you can't control. For example, where you were born.

To be born or brought up in your country comes with unwritten rules of the duties you have to serve. Some do it with passion and some don't even bother. To some, they don't see it much of an obligation with the excuse that, no one had the choice of where they were born.

This is all too true. I experience this first hand. I am much too comfortable in doing absolutely nothing for my country. People always say I don't give much credit to my country, but why should I? What has my nation ever done that was so significantly worthy of my attention? Absolutely nothing.


Don't get me wrong, I love the uniqueness and the diversity of my country, Indonesia. But there's only so much good food and beautiful culture that can hide this nation's flaws. Everyone, and I mean everyone, is fully aware of the fragile situation Indonesia is in and it's been the same for years. People just choose to ignore things they don't want to hear or see. 'Ignorance is bliss' and it really is. We believe that we're better off not knowing because we secretly hope it will all go away by itself. But the reality isn't like that. It starts off small, by seeing a small child coming up to your car window, begging for money. It has become so common that it has integrated into your everyday life and seeing that would not affect you in any way at all. The bigger picture here is that, how are we able to live in a place where the rich get richer and the poor get poorer? Then, we get stuck in the daily, long hours of traffic and pot holes as big as a tire goes by unnoticed. We'll never be able to see perfectly smoothed out roads, despite the billions of Rupiah there actually are. We then realise why the highly-anticipated monorail project was never completed..

There are all these talks but no action - what good does this do? Fluffing the image of the country seems more of an important thing to do rather than to work on the substance. We have leaders that are not even bothered to cover up their blatant acts - what does this tell us? That we're not supposed to be ashamed of our vile doings? If that's everyone's way of thinking, then all hope surely is lost. Indonesia is unable to move on and is forever stuck in limbo, falling behind.

To an extent, I am ashamed of where I come from. It gets so bad that one day, I would actually have to raise my child in this sad excuse of a country? Hell, it doesn't even have protection for its own inhabitants. Would Indonesia even still be standing by then? Here, destruction is occurring much faster than the actual 'healing'. Nevermind, there is no healing. To them, there is no future. Everything is in the short term for them and as long as it makes money, there's nothing stopping them.

Lady Gaga announced last February that she was to perform a concert right in the heart of Jakarta. A week ago, news spread that she got cancelled. Why? Because she was too sexy. "She intended to destroy the nation's morality," according to the Islamic Defenders Front. So, in other words, she is going to 'corrupt' people's minds. I'm sorry, what? A world class artist, not to mention who won six Grammy awards and fifteen nominations - only in the span of four years, is going to 'corrupt' our minds? What about our President, who has been doing nothing but that for the last eight years he has been elected? They were so quick to judge an outsider, with no actual proof, but they dismiss the flat-out fact that its happening right in their own backyard. Gaga isn't teaching anyone "to worship the devil" - Gaga is an artist. An artist is capable of doing anything they please, knowing the consequences that come with it. She is just simply expressing her views and nothing more. Everything is just so contradictory.. Maybe their minds are the corrupted ones. Please.. They should worry about themselves before they impose absurd theories onto others.

It continues on.. Indonesia ranks 140th on the list of "How Islamic are Islamic Countries?" Now, if I were the President, Minister, whatever - I'd be the slightest bit concerned because.. For a country that is predominantly Muslim, why are we ranked so low? The survey was not based purely on numbers but also the attitudes of the people. The number of Muslim people does not matter when the things that the people do are not even considered to be even close to Islamic. Knowing this, why are they not even bothered to right the wrongs? To a country that promotes teachings of Islam everyday, surely they would want to do something about it. It's like an empty promise - you say it, but you don't really mean it.

That's what Indonesia is to me: an empty promise.

I said earlier that I wasn't fully proud of where I come from, and these are all the reasons why. When I can't even celebrate the day of independence with the slightest smile on my face, then you should probably know why. Everyone keeps telling me to give some respect to my country but I don't see why I should. I wish I could though, maybe then I can have a sense of belonging.

Counting mistakes

I watched a movie called The Vow today as a result of a recommendation from my friend. It's your average chick flick but with a lot of life lessons integrated in it. I must admit, I expected something light-hearted just to pass the time. Instead, it left me stunned on how good the movie actually was to me.

And in the first time in a long time, this movie made me cry.

For a while now, I have kind of forced myself not to think about everything except for school work (of course..) but this movie opened up the wounds that I was trying so hard to heal. Nevertheless, I still loved it.

Spoiler alert! In the movie - the main character, Paige - ran away from home after finding out of his father's affair with her best friend. She was also appalled knowing that her mother didn't leave her husband because of it. Paige then confronted her about it and her mother's argument follows, "I chose to stay with him for all the things he has done right and not to leave him for the one thing he had done wrong."Our past might define us and maybe so will our choices. As human beings, that we all are (hopefully), we find it so much easier to count the wrongs no matter how many rights there are. People just can't be judged purely on their mistakes. Which brings me to the next quote from the film:

"When you truly care for someone, their mistakes never change your feelings because it's the mind that gets angry but the heart still cares."

This quote my fellow bloggers, has summed up my life (so far) perfectly. I might have just become a broken record going on and on about a certain someone but no matter how hard I try to shake it out, it's always going to be there. One thing I don't want is for it to haunt me forever and with the pace I'm going, I'm not doing so well. I guess this is the perfect time to use that popular saying, "love is blind". Whether it's family or a significant other, your judgement of that person is going to be forever biased. You can never see the flaw in them simply because you have created this perfect version of that person. To see something as small as a papercut for an imperfection is unacceptable and so our hearts believe in the imagination that we have fabricated to block out what's real and replace it with what's not. And when that person does a wrong, you'll always find a way to forgive them because they are that important not to lose.

Not just about mistakes, but everything else, shouldn't be a reason for anyone to drive away. Whether it's someone's past or even secrets.. If you truly cared, it shouldn't make anyone run for the hills. In my case, I've cared for so long that anything shocking to hear isn't going to push me away. And that person should've known better - should've known my reaction or unreaction, I shall say. Despite what's happened, I would still expect much more from this person. I guess my expectations was higher than it should be. But with this fact, I know I can finally put this where it belongs - my past.

Anyhoo, what's a movie review without a little personal experience? In the end, *Spoiler alert again!* Paige doesn't get her memory back after the car crash and her husband, Leo is forced to accept the fact that his wife cannot recall the memories they had together. But look at it this way: he can put it behind him and make new ones. The Vow just taught me the simple message on how to live. Live a little. It doesn't matter about how many mistakes you've done because in the end, who's counting them?

"Bien que mon amour soit fou, ma raison calme les trop vives douleurs de mon coeur en lui disant de patienter, et d'espérer toujours..."