Monday, January 18, 2016

Closer to Fear

When you say 'you're not afraid', are you sure? Do you really mean it?

What if you see a tragedy everyday, would you say the same?
Would you think it makes you stronger? Makes you stronger by seeing people slaughtered?

So, is it okay if inhumanity taking place everyday? You're not afraid, right?

What is fear?

What are you fear of?

Are we having fear for the right reason?

Are we not having the fear for the wrong reason?

Is it still okay?

Is it okay to have fear?

Or, is it that bad?

Does having fear mean you're losing?

Does fear save you?

Could you tell me more when you're closer to fear?

===


... what happens in my bedroom, stays in my bedroom...

Thursday, January 14, 2016

The Third Explosion

It was 07.55 when I tapped my ID card at work. I usually arrive early.  Yes, early. I'm working in an agency where people could arrive at least 10am, yet they would spend quite late at work.

Anyway, nothing was suspicious.

Not until a shocking gigantic sound came to our ears a few hours later. Funny, I've been the one who's always worried with such sound in the office, fear might it be a bomb. Previously, in my one and a half month working in that office, it was whether sound of thunder or something from the construction area nearby. That morning, my colleague also thought it was thunder! But we realized, the sky was clear.

I didn't move until somebody said it was a bomb a few seconds after. The first explosion. We ran towards the window but the smoke was gone. Everything was ok. The person who said he saw an explosion suddenly wasn't sure of what he just saw. We sat back at our seats and the second explosion burst out. There, we started to worry. We ran back to the window yet everything down there seemed to be normal, seen from 26th floor.

The people around the Sarinah wasn't running away, freaking out or something. Like everything was normal. So I thought, maybe it might be an explosion from Burger King's kitchen, despite my colleague said that the explosion he saw was in front of Starbucks. And then I thought again, if it was indeed a blow from the kitchen... how could the sound break so loud?

I took my time to type fast on Path when my colleague tried to search the news about it. That explosion was brand new, of course there's nothing about it on the net. No one answered me on Path for some time.

Some colleagues started wondering, asking someone to find out. I made a few steps back from the window, just right before the third explosion came visible to my eyes.

I screamed.

That's it. I usually don't scream, but shits in my head defended themselves to let out. I remembered someone yelled out to evacuate. I ran to my desk, packed everything quickly while telling my friends not to forget everything behind at work. When we were getting closer to the door, one of the bosses said to me, "Stay inside, it's happening down there, you'd better stay inside. There's a shooting downstairs, you don't wanna go down."

Some people were already near the elevators, I screamed asking them to come back inside. I didn't hear anything but the explosions, so I was shocked too that there were shootings already.

So we stayed. We stayed altogether in one point. The building management officer spoke out an announcement, saying that we should stay inside. Let's say, we're trapped in the office.

Definitely, it was ISIS. Or their previous look-alikes: JI, Al-Qaeda, HT and all. Yet, some part of me still hoped that it could only be a drill. It wasn't. My journo friend said that it was a terrorist attack. Confirmed.

I told my friends about it and the news came up.

We went to the restroom together, and the fourth explosion came. That was nightmare. Suddenly I felt like I lived in Iran or Syria. The big main streets with the coolest places and skyscrapers in the city turned into war zone. As it has been the fourth one, we thought there would be more and we didn't know where. Our office building could be next. And we couldn't leave.

All I cared was I needed to tell my family that I was okay so they wouldn't be worried. I hate it when they worried. My mom was sick since last week, she's not feeling that well. I was afraid this news might frighten her and trigger her pain. I made the call, trying not to panic so I would sound convincing enough that I was okay. I wasn't. My hands were all trembling when I made those calls.

My XL was dead. Kinda hard to made a call straight from my cellphone. I also rushed to contact my brother and sis-in-law who worked in Thamrin, too, with land phone on the desk. I cancelled my meetings and stayed calm.

After calling my mom, another explosion. The fifth. I didn't take the time to get closer to the window to look. The sixth...

Hours there of despair. I wasn't afraid if I have to die on that day. But I was afraid if I might get hurt... living and keep remembering the public distraction of an on-going issue. Just because of it, people died. Innocent ones. Of course, I didn't count the terrorist who died during the attack. Let them be.

Looking for the bigger picture... The spin doctors made a huge success with a handful of ammunition for the day: The hashtags people debated (instead of spreading the right information and verifying the rumors), the public watch on the spot, and the fashionable cops.

People also compared the incident with the one in Paris. Definitely not the same. Indo were debating Indonesians posting 'Pray for Paris' and the French flag applied on their profile pic when it all happened, which for me, it's something normal. As I see it as a way to deliver condolences despite the distance Indo and France had. But this is Jakarta. These peeps are in the same city. And they're debating the hashtags while I was burning my head in composing the plan to escape. I just wanted to be at home.

The incident left me curious.
How on earth it could happen...
How people dare to do this, letting some people who know nothing to die intentionally just to cover things up. I noticed a few illogical clues. I'm writing this, not in the mood to accuse. However, I was surprised on how many people ignore it and CHOOSE to get distracted, even worse, claiming the hero on wrong people and pointing it out as cynicism to be critical about this.

Some people who were consumed with such things... had less sympathy. Well, I can't blame them. I can't blame them for not being there and realizing the absurdities. Instead, they would love to joke (or brag) on 'bravery' of civilians who enjoyed the violent drama, live...only a few steps away.

Anyway, at least I know who were truly cared about me on that day. People who had me on their mind when the incident made the headlines. Thank you! I'm deeply touched. It's always nice to know that people care.

As a person who work in Communication industry and taking classes on Terrorism Studies, I am sure this incident is definitely a set-up. It had been practiced many times previously. By who? Just find the spin doctor....

And it made me realized, we're all Jon Snow. We know nothing. 

Last but not least...

Dear Spin Doctor, whoever you are... Yeah, you won. But I'm not afraid. One day, I'll do the same thing to you.

Sunday, December 13, 2015

On Prostitutions, On Self-Value, On Our Own Reality

Speaking of... two (unimportant) girls were on media highlights last week. Why? Some say, they're celebrities even though I didn't know them, and secondly they are also prostitutes. Thirdly, is the most important, they were caught red handed by undercover police for prostituting themselves in an expensive hotel. 

Here's the thing that bugs me. Every prostitution case is on the rise, people will question on:1. The self-value of the girls who sell their bodies for sex.2. Even worse, the virginity... and how dirty such girls are.

Again, I will question only one thing. (1) Where are these kind of judgement for the guy who burn his money for prostitution?Yet, no matter what, there will 'supply' if there is 'demand'---the most righteous economy theory that won't ever fail, in my humble opinion.

Speaking of 'self-value', what makes us difference from those prostitutes?

(We) might put ourselves as slaves for our clients/employers despite how stingy they pay our intellectual works, compare to those girls who could easily stand up and say 'No' to any men who pay them sh*t. 

Regardless of sinful act---oh well, everyday we make one(s). So what? What's your problem with theirs? They don't have problems with yours.

Your self-value is gone, when you let someone throw a sh*t on you just because they pay. And no matter often you let them, you won't earn hundreds of millions like Nikita M and friends. �� Ironic, isn't it?

And where are theirs? They have theirs, maybe. Because it's their choice. They do because they want to.Yes, I definitely prefer to speak up for them rather than for those who yell out loud praying but only bullshit in fact. 

Oh, how judgmental me. We all do. So that's okay. ��



Probably, it isn't just about knowledge that Eve took the apple in Eden. There's more.... 


... what happens in my bedroom, stays in my bedroom...

Sunday, May 17, 2015

Quarter Life Crisis


I'm no longer 16. I'm no longer 18. I'm no longer 20. I'm no longer 22.

I am 25 years old. Singing John Mayer's 'Stop This Train' won't help any better.
I'm 25 and I'm having quarter life crisis.

This morning I gathered up with some friends for light breakfast and chat somewhere downtown. One of them just broke up and we talked... we talked... until the topic about commitment came up. Then, 'quarter life crisis' was in. We're talking how it is usual phase that most would question about their existence, label, and pursuit....including their achievement so far in life. So when I have written here so many times about living in turbulence... I haven't landed anywhere, it's just the turbulence getting stronger---shaking me to the core.

I got to admit. I have been in this kind of crisis since my early 20s. I just don't realize it, or maybe I just deny that I already face it too early than I should have. No matter how early I had it, things didn't change for good. I'm still stuck and all. What's worse?

Like in previous post, I said... 'I'm hitting rock bottom'. Yes. I feel like not only stuck, but I'm confused.

Imagine you're in a boat and you're sailing. You might start to think that the phrase 'sailing the boat alone' makes any sense to you. Why? I'm in the middle of such circumstance. I ask myself... why am I sailing this boat alone? Wait, whose boat is this?

I wonder why I'm always stuck in this kind of thing. Being thrown away... forgotten as not part of the team no matter how much you have done, just because one simple thing you do---being a human. I question my life.... should I be the nice person all the time? When I act like real human with attitude that I would only consider as not humane. Well. Even though it happens for once, the good things you've done seem to be disappeared.

Quarter life crisis. I question if I can move on with anything I have for now. Or without anything. Coz there's nothing left.

Can I go back to 21? Please...

Oh are you having the same thing? Did you (if you are older than me)? Say that life is just a 'Bitter Sweet Symphony".


... what happens in my bedroom, stays in my bedroom...

Little Things that Make Me Happy


My birthday was in March. But I had plenty of gifts addressed to me randomly. Some are belated birthday gift, some are generosity of my friends who happened to have finished their traveling. 

I'm hitting the rock bottom lately. And these things make me happy. Little things that make me think that my life worth a while.

Thank you!

As you see these things surprisingly beyond I could have imagined. Like Doraemon make up brush set and organic coconut palm sugar---with cinnamon twist? And, I have more Vaseline Petroleum Jelly... fresh from Saudi Arabia. This is awesome!



... what happens in my bedroom, stays in my bedroom...

Sunday, April 19, 2015

Something about Postcards



Got these lovely postcards from Yuli and Val while they' were enjoying their freelance job in Bali Spirit Fest, Ubud. Jealous, huh? What else? I got these two after I decided to cancel my plan to travel to Ubud for visiting them. Once again, due to work and parental permission... well, traveling solo got to wait.

Ndah is currently traveling around Europe, too. She sends me postcards every city she drops by, sent to my office. Today, I got another one. So happy! The message is beautifully written, though it's brief to share how the city looks like. That's why I love from postcards! Maybe...

Through these plenty of postcards I received lately, I felt like 'communicating more'. Recently, I decided to try maintaining my communications with some friends, especially abroad. Through any way I can. Skype, Instagram, Facebook (yes, now I checked it a little... very little often), Twitter, Path and What's App or Line. I feel like losing myself for staying in a bubble for so long. I kept cutting people off---which has become my expertise lately.

But you know what... I'm always mesmerized with the idea of having pen-pals. Never meet them, but keeping in touch so frequent. Going to post office, put on the best stamp and send off a bunch of wishes. Well, I do have them. I kept on writing them, only I haven't done it for a year or two. In Jakarta, it's just kind of difficult to get to the closest post office. Oh well, third world country problem. Oh no, it's Jakarta. Oh whoops, it's my laziness of not able to conquer the city.

As for my friends here in Jakarta, I try to reach them and meet anytime possible lately these days. Traffic jam is what separates us here, but you can always find the perfect time to beat the shit out of your hang out plan. I also contacted some friends I've been ignoring for some time. I think I can try to forgive, try to bury the hatchet, try to move on. Guess, stranger... it's what I am born to be. Back there again at that point.

At least, I try what I can do. Best way possible.

So now I know why postcards or snail mail works perfectly for me. When distance makes me unseen, letters or postcards can reach me and I feel like my existence real without being exist. Hmm... now things get complicated, I'm getting sound weirder.


Write again soon.

... what happens in my bedroom, stays in my bedroom...

Tuesday, February 17, 2015

Memory Loss Concern

Bunny. Thinking how to save the world that knows no justice...while no one cares.


Other than many fears that I got in this world, I am worried of my sanity, as well. Sanity that keeps my memory in my mind on all I have been until today. I'm afraid of having amnesia or Alzheimer. Lately, I do have problems with memory loss. I have been forgetful on things I used to remember closely, or words or terms I often wrote or spoke of in the past. If you ever read or watched Atonement, you'd probably have heard of vascular dementia that Briony had in the last chapter. Who knows, I might really have it.

My late grandma, since I was still a kindergarten student to 5th grade, never remembered that I actually passed a grade up each year until the day she's gone. Even though my body has grown so much, she never realized it. She always thought that I was still in kindergarten for years, no matter how often we reminded her that I was no longer a toddler.

Ironically, I met her many times in my life, in a month, as she lived nearby. Short distance never helped her to remember that easier.

Then again, yesterday I was back to meet my grand family---something that I always avoid, due to language and culture clash, and I hate noisy crowds. A night before my uncle was brought to funeral homes, I met my auntie who 'babysit' me when my parents were in the States. She asked me a question that was more surprising than 'when are you getting married?' one.

I was talking to my cousin's daughter. She was telling me that she hadn't gone to school due to flood. Then my auntie jumped in asking, "You two going to same school?" Of course, I was like, what? 

This niece of mine is in high school, but looks more kiddy than most 10th grade student should be. So, do we go to same school? Yeah, I was like, what?!

Surely I replied, 'No, auntie, I'm already working." Then she asked me, "Oh, so you two work at the same workplace?" D'oh! She just forgot that a moment before we just mentioned the word 'school', about less in a minute ago. I tried to answer and explain more detail so she would stop asking. And yes, she stopped, but coming back with another unimportant questions.


I wrote this story in my Path account. There are mixed reactions about this. Some concerned, some laughed---by thinking I meant it as a funny experience. But the truth is... I intended to share a thing related to going-old-and-vulnerable phase in our lives and how family bond allows you to witness (let's say, preparing you). (But) In funny way to write it out.Yes.

Names, words, events. I lost some of them. And being forgetful is not good for your career or school. Let's say, when you forgot a definition in Sociology class, you'll lose a point in your exam. That simple. Those are small things that lead to your life. Biggest future threat I forgot is that the things I do isn't my life anymore.

Sometimes, I remember that. Sometimes.

My bro-in-law once asked me, "why do you take pics so much of almost anything?" My classmates at photography course I took in Houston even asked the same thing. They didn't take pics as many as I did while we spent morning before class, during class break or lunch time and after class. I thought, being in photography junkie would mean that we could be rivals in taking the best pic ever every day. But it turned out so differently. They didn't take a pic, unless our instructor told us to.

So, why? I always keep any photos, with the worst take as well. The only reason is... those pic will hopefully help me to remember a piece by piece of anything to my past I lose, if I really lose more memories in the future. Not just favorable, weird, funny or sad things I found on the streets... but to the most precious ones like happy faces for blessing received and annual celebrations that we shouldn't miss.

I want to keep track of what had happened. Besides photos, I keep some voice notes my friends sent me (and some from my ex boyfriends), letters/post cards or videos of my nieces and nephew since they were babies. I regret that I didn't have many for my previous pets.

The incidents lately reminded me of Royston, a film director from Singapore whom I met in 2010. He made a film about an old guy who suffered from Alzheimer. JakPost interviewed him in KL while he was in transit, saying that he made movies to remember, helping him out if once he lose his memories as well. I got his point now.

Some complained of how we took pics of almost everything. Some lost on how we cherish a photography---that photography has revolved into something we had in daily basis. Once we were familiar with diary and all the 'dear diary' thing was so sweet and special at the time, now it has gone into random rants and ramblings on Twitter or Path. Believe me, the things we shared can be annoyance to others but those are just memory tracker to me. Maybe to you. Or, you just don't realize it. Try TimeHop?

Let me make it short. No matter it's good or bad, sometimes I think I need to learn more open. Share more and let life remembers and reminds me of how far I've been through. The things around me sort of pushing me to cherish every moment the best I can. The phrase 'to live life fullest' now makes sense. No one probably can avoid me having memory loss, but when someone or I try to recount the missing piece, I want that piece of my life can make it worth awhile to remember.


... what happens in my bedroom, stays in my bedroom...


P.S. I never delete any chat history messages. How matter far you've gone, you'll always be in my history. Let's always 'Begin Again'.

Wednesday, January 21, 2015

Tiny Piece of Shit

When shits come, my body temperature instantly raises! I was boiling for a whole day today and I was like, "what happened to me?". But my logic brain said, "no, nothing. It's just natural phase when you're surrounded by annoying culture." Then, I can conclude---I'm getting crazy... I just talked to myself all alone! Whoa...

I remember last week, when I was brainstorming with my editor. She said many times she saw adult guys played in game center, looking so serious. "Maybe that's their way to release stress," she told me. Could be right, I guess.

And just today, I got the chance to prove it. Note that currently it's rainy season and I have a big backyard. Why? The problem continues at home. Cockroaches. They came up from the river, sneaked into my house through the pipe at the backyard. D'oh! Usually, I go crazy with the 'magic spray'---like spraying one roach till dead...till the can is empty. Yes, one can 'magic spray' for one alive-but-soon-to-die roach. It makes me feel awesome!

I wish I can just my dad's gun to shoot. Sadly, he'd sold it long time ago.

Back to... Today! I'm so excited to tell you that I just released some stress in my head by killing one. Somebody in the house might have sprayed it until the body was upside down, left it that way near the garden by thinking it might be dead already. It's not! I was passing by and the feet moved. As I couldn't find the spray, I grabbed the liquid hand soap from the bathroom. Strawberry flavor. Fed the roach with a few drops, but I, accidentally, pushed too much...

The feet moved even quicker. Until it stopped moving and died tragically. I just knew that over-dropping liquid hand soap (it could be the strawberry flavor that kills) could make a dramatic effect to dying roaches. Too bad, they don't like strawberry.

One thing shocked me was...on few days ago. There were lots of roaches at the backyard due to higher water level as it rained a lot. One roach died. I didn't know how. I realized there was a dead roach when I saw another roach, alive, stood still. I was about to get into the backyard and it ran away, leaving the view of a dead one below its body. Before I made noise, the roach just stood there, didn't move a little. But I noticed that it looked like there were two roaches. I thought they were mating. After I knew that the other one was dead, I was like... "OMG! A roach can be necrophilia?!" Oh yes, nature can be so shockingly surprising.



... what happens in my bedroom, stays in my bedroom...

Monday, January 12, 2015

It's Going Down, I'm Yelling TINDER!

Yes, TINDER! With an 'n' in the middle. And I'll make the night you won't remember, but I'll be the one you won't forget. Ever.

Once, I told my boss that I wouldn't want to get married. I prefer stay single. I said, "I can't be with anyone, I love being alone. I enjoy loneliness."

He, then, told me what he thought of me, "I don't think you're a kind of person who can be alone. From what I see, you're probably not that independent."

I said, "I'm not, but I'm trying."

Confused to wait, or...?

Everything involving me is complicated, indeed. I enjoy being along, but sometimes loneliness, I have to admit, sucks. Before talking about getting a date or simple a guy, I recall the time I've been thinking to have a dog but then giving up, I decide not to. At least, for now. For the best. I don't have the time to be with my dog. Whenever I got home, I'd probably continue working. Same thing goes on weekends. I can't be ready whenever my dog needs me.

So, you know what happen if I have a boyfriend. I would only neglect him and focus on my work. Why? Yes, I have responsibility and life mission. Therefore, I have to prioritize my career life.

Ok, let's break down. I don't want a marriage. But I don't mind to have someone to love me or for me to love back. I don't mind dating. Yet, it turns out the old question coming back, "do I have the time to?" Then it develops to..."is it worth it?" I hope it's clear enough.

I declared to my family that I don't want a marriage in my life since grade 6. They say, "Wait until you're in high school, you'll regret it." When I was finally in high school, they say, "Wait until you're in college...". And so on! Until I have all my reasons to sum up, my mom finally understands. Though, she's worried whenever she knows I'm going somewhere for doing something like cooking class, watching a movie, going to library or book store... alone. She's really worried of why I'm doing it all alone. I admit to her I have so many friends, but I end up going by myself and nobody is there to accompany me. My family is surely questioning things like this.

Things get twisted many times. After three years in magazine, I didn't go for a date at all. But a few weeks after I resumed work at the new place, I met someone sweet and nice at... Tinder! We met and all. It went well, breaking the curse. At least, as usual, things between us get twisted again along the way. Here I am... as single as ever.

My Tinder was still on for a few weeks after me and the sweet guy stopped contacting each other. Then I met a guy and made a mistake. Thankfully, I didn't meet him in person or else, I don't know what will happen. I deleted the app.

There are times where I feel lonely at the most ever since. Not that I miss him or my exes. Suddenly, I don't know what to do when I'm alone and lose my mood for everything. Tinder thing on again, off again and on again. Unfortunately or fortunately I can't find anyone. It's just hard. It's the matter that I'm too picky or I'm not that attractive. From 100 of guys, I swipe left only 1. Go figure!

I used to laugh at the idea of getting an account at online dating services or even the traditional one in newspaper. I don't know why now I getting crazy with this Tinder thing. C'mon, Bree! A guy like Christian Grey wouldn't have Tinder, and not even Jamie Dornan! 

Got to admit that I'm stuck with Fifty Shades thing and Mr. Grey. It made it difficult for me to find someone.

It is hard for me to open up. Harder to let people in. Something I'd probably had forgot how. Now, I don't know where and how to start. I think I'm ready for a relationship, but I'm not. I recall again... only a superguy that has lots of patience who keeps up with me. I'm complicated. If you say, women are complicated creature, I'm way worse than those women you've ever seen.

Another reason I pull it back is... because I think it's selfish to open up (read: trap) a guy to like me or even to love me. I'm screwed up. He has a bunch of homework to deal with when it comes about me and getting together. Sometimes, I wish I can finish this shit on my own. Without letting it becomes a burden for my future boyfriend. Again, I don't know how and what to decide. Maybe, I need to rekindle the love I used to have with my loneliness.

Who knows...Tinder can help. Some say it's just for sex, some say it's not.
Just say, 'maybe'.

... what happens in my bedroom, stays in my bedroom...

Thursday, January 8, 2015

Latest Published Work (November 2014 - GH)



Yay! Forgot to post about this, and it made me happy again today!

After I resigned, I went to US for... many things. Have I ever written about this before in one of my last posts? I never remember what I've posted here. Well, Disneyworld in Florida was one of the plans. Months after back at home, I sold the article on a different angle about that large and lovely theme park. Yes, childhood revives in Disneyworld!

You can read the whole article on Good Housekeeping Indonesia - November 2014 issue. You can always buy the back issue directly to their office (Distribution dept., of course).

Some other pictures I took at Disneyworld can be seen in my Instagram. So if you're planning to go there, you know what you'll find and see there, plan what you're gonna do there, too. And if you have, you could have a little nostalgia.

The fireworks of Epcot seen from my penthouse's balcony.

The one and only... Cinderella's Castle. (That doesn't mean I'm Cinderella's fan, I'm totally not!)








Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...