End of the year SALE! Lol. Just kidding. I mean Reflections.

How would you tell your kids how your 2012 went? Mine would go like this:

Kids, the year 2012 was the year when I turned 19. It was the year of everything One Direction and all that other boybands and annoying Indonesia girlbands. Palestine became a member of the UN, which is surprisingly not bigger than a party in the USA. Obama was elected as president again, and I was overjoyed because that means I would see more and more of Michelle! It was the year of me having so, so much fun. Somehow. I turned 19 in a karaoke room full of really fun people from my mooting team. I met people and became close with them, without ever been friends before. And people, God forbid, they fell in this stupid shit they invent called the Friendzone way too many times, it's so damn confusing! I mean, why? I used to tell them NOT to be like those characters in Gossip Girl or Friends, where they can sleep with their best friend and break up and still talk to them about their new squeeze. They seem heartless and inhumane to me. But screw that. That's one of my biggest regrets this year, because, who am I to tell them that? Love comes to people in all the different fashions. Some people met in a cafe, in a bar, a strip club, and some perhaps in a library, through a friend, so it shouldn't be a sin to marry your best friend, right? And also in this year, there were things that happen through your transition to be a grown up. They were tiring and really bothers you, but they were necessary to make what I have now, happen. Like the broken friendship. The heartache. The love that was so confusing it hurts. The beautiful holidays. All the small obstacles that hit me on the face multiple times, they helped making this year a landmark for me. But another thing that should make me proud is the fact that I survived the overhyped doomsday that turns out to be a hoax. And I like that. I like this year. I want more of something like this, or even better, in 2013.

Huge Grand

As you know, every Christmas holiday I have this "Old Lady Movie Night" ritual that consists of, yes, none other than the ulimate romantic comedy, Love Actually. But truthfully, as I'm a sucker for a lot of feel-good, sweep-me-off-the-floor kind of movies, I also have other movies that help me get the spirit of Christmas love, because, as Tom Hansen from 500 Days of Summer would put it, "It's love, it's not Santa Claus."

Please don't tell me what it is. The only movie who could pair up Julia Roberts and Hugh Grant in London without making it look awkward (honestly, I don't think Roberts could work a romantic comedy without Richard Gere, but maybe it's just me) Ah, Notting Hill. I know it's not really about Christmas, and it's not even set in the winter. But it's London. It's about love. It has Hugh Grant being the clumsy bookstore guy, who's so adorable it's just impossible not to love this movie. The only downside is Julia Roberts. Not her, but her 90s fashion, that is.

Bridget Jones' Diary is probably the only movie ever made to ever understand the concept of a fairy tale. First clause: include a fat-bottomed girl who miserably leads a mediocre life in Lomdon, with a mediocre job and a chubby face (and butt, arms, technically everything). Second clause: bring Jane Austen's ridiculously perfect gentleman to life. So perfect, it seems irrelevant to real life (hint: he is). The Mr. Darcy that Jane Austen told us is almost as troubled but handsome and swooning as the Mark Darcy that Colin Firth has geniusly played, that I almost believe he is as charming as Mr. Darcy the London lawyer. Third clause: bring Hugh Grant into the equation, tell him to smirk and grin that were meant to make every ladies in the world go wild. Last but not least, let the fat-bottomed heroine run around her neighborhood in underwear, tell her to kiss her lawyer boyfriend under snowy London, and there, you have it.

Four Weddings and a Funeral is exactly the kind of romcom you would like to see in your Christmas break. I mean, come on. Hugh Grant playing the sweetest person in the history of cinema, ever. How can you not even love him? Seriously, see this movie. You wouldn't want to fall in love with anyone who's not Grant's Charles.

Yes, I noticed how my movie list is so full of Hugh Grant and, well, honestly, London. And my explanation is this: perhaps my best idea of a perfect Christmas holiday would be spent in cold and snowy London, with someone who's as good looking as Hugh Grant. That, or me attending my parents' second vow in the middle of snowy weather with Colin Firth kissing me, and Will Young singing Your Love is King playing in the background.

In my dreams

If I tell you where I'm going, would you still try to get into my life? Would you still see me in the pictures of your future?

The Person Behind The Mask

Sometimes I think I know you so well. I know you're this cheerful, witty and constantly off the wall kind of person. And when you're being that, it makes me feel happy because you are, well, happy. Your life is so full of colors that's bright and shiny. But then you could've just showed me another side of you—the you who's profound, grim, deep and thoughtful. The you that's the complete opposite of who I thought you are. The you that's dark, as if I thought you were a sunny day in Maui while deep inside, you're a cold, cloudy dusk in snowy Greenland. And that's when I feel sad, because... Because I feel like I was wrong about you. Like all these times I spent trying to get to know you, figuring out what you are and what you're not, was a waste of time.

But it's true what they say, that before you judge on people, you have to be strong enough and make a fair play: judge yourself first. And the judgement came, and truth is, I'm a lot like that, in a lot of ways.

A lot of people thought of me as this person who don't get sad over anything. They thought I'm one of those person who has a smile available all the time. They thought I was only capable of being lighthearted and cheery. They didn't expect me to be able to write about things I write here, because they didn't even know that I have certain parts of the brain that allows me to have a depth. It's because I seem to be shallow all the time, I know. And perhaps the big reason for that is because I let myself to be like that. But I didn't mean to hide the me that have some kind of depth—the me that feels, rather than smile and make a joke about it. I wouldn't rather let people think I'm cheerful than grimy, no. I'd rather let people have their opinions about me, and when they found something that didn't meet their expectations about it, they'd be surprised. I'd prefer that storyline.

You see, maybe that's exactly what you wanna do. You want to surprise people. You want the universe to surprise people, rather than putting on an effort in order to let people know who you are, and what you are capable of. Because whether I do it unconsciously or not, that's what I do. And that's what I want, I don't wanna be blamed for that. So, I don't blame you. In fact, I like that about you. I like people who surprises people without even trying. 

So you see, each one of us hides a personality that didn't seem to fit; one that didn't seem likely for us to have simply because they say, "That's so not you." Sure, each one of us has a personality traits that can describe us individually. But I believe that everyone has more than one personality, and therefore everyone shouldn't be described in only one adjective. Because chances are, that one girl who always seems to be so serious, is indeed a comic writer, or a party animal at night. And perhaps that one guy who's childish and funny and humorous, is a serious thinker; the brain behind the propaganda. It's not a double personality disorder, it's just depth.  

Unspoken Agreement

"I want you to see my words and be motivated enough in them to take the first step yourself because, no matter how much I want to burst into your life with the truth of exactly how I feel about you, I know that I am not going to."

source 

Uncontrollable Love

It's kind of a funny story, something about being cared and loved deeply by people who actually give a shit about you. It's one of those times when you feel ungrateful because you can't help but being scared by the things that you are actually very lucky to have. It's a shame, but you can't help it. You wish you can, but you can't.

It's also really funny, I guess, when things, even some really good ones, got big, it could scare the hell out of you. Just like cancer, and expectations, and doubt, when the love gets too big, it kills you. I have heard how people tell us not to let the bitter things get the best of you, but what if it's the sweet things that got too big, and we're still scared? Is it possible that maybe, well just maybe, the fault is upon us? That there's something wrong with us, and it's only later will we realize that we're such terrible human being?

There's always more than one perspective to view love. Perhaps there's even a way to look at it from a bird's view. Remember that yes, you've got your heart broken once, or perhaps more. You've loved in silence, in pain and in vain. But chances are, someone else have been in that position too, and that's for you. Maybe you never realized how you've been a heartbreaker, how you've hurt some people without even realizing it. And you probably have no idea how many people have called you a jerk, or a bitch, because you have unconsciously caused the pain in their lives.

You have no idea how big of an impact you could've made for some people. You can a big part of someone else's life, and not even know it. You can say all you want about not wanting to be found, about not wanting to fall in love and be in pain. Bu you can't stop people from loving you, just like you've insisted on loving someone who has no idea kf your existence. You can't stop people from trying to win you over everyone else. And you can't tell them how much you wished they could've loved you less.

Through Sickness and Health

All through this November I, as well as maybe the majority of you, have been working like a dog. There was just too many things to do, what with paperworks and personal life and all that stuff. I have been juggling between my almost non-existent academic life and my messy personal health and being a somewhat part-time soccer mom, watching my friends being out on the field (very, very unlike their usual 'the man who can't be moved' style in the cafeteria). But perhaps what November is all about is probably about learning to know what I want. Because life is always about what I want vs. what I need, and a lot of times, we choose the one that wasn't clearly the right answer. We always invest our time, and money, and power, all in the stuffs we actually can live without. And basically, we never learn to spare some time, or money, or power, for the things that really matter to us. Like health, or personaly hygiene.... or other stuffs. We are always in between something that's so confusing, and like other things, suck. But whether we choose to go right or left, we will always end up thinking, "Maybe I should've looked the other way."

Masalahnya bukan soal terjebak atau bukan. Masalahnya adalah, we dont even know what this is. 

Because everyone needs someone to hold on to

What makes a good friend?

Is it about the amount of time we get to spend together? Or just simply the quality of it?

Is it about the way I listen to your every problems, like you do to mine, and how we discuss it, as if I were Dante and you were Descartes?

Is it about how I stop you from falling in love with that guy, because I sense some kind of threat from him and I don't want you to get hurt?

Or am I good friend because I have let you fall so deep that when you found out the truth, it crushed you pretty bad you don't know if you'll ever recover... but at least now you know?

Because I want you to learn. I want you to find out about things yourself, and not preventing things from happening. I want you to feel happy the way you wish to be; and I want you not to guard your heart or put it in a cage like I do. But more than anything, I want you to live.

Live. The way they say you should be brave: to embrace your flaws, dance in the rain, cry your heart out, fall madly in love... Even if it means you have to do it all in the end. Even if it means you have to learn about things the hard way. Sometimes us mankind were left with no choice other than being the miserable creature that we are. And sometimes we have to just settle with being that.

I don't know what makes a good friend, and perhaps I will never know. It will varies from one to another, because friendship, just like love, is a case by case phenomenon. But just so you know, I'll be here.

I'll be here to listen; I'm not a psychologist so I don't charge for lending you my ears. I'm probably not so good in giving advice, but I'm telling you, I don't judge. Not you. I'm probably going to put the blame on you for some of your problems, but I come in peace; I just want you to know the truth, the logical perspective, the other opinions beside those voices speaking inside your head. Because no matter what they say about listening to those voices, sometimes they weren't meant to be so practical.

I'm going to be here when you fall madly in love with that boy who treats you like you're ordinary. I'm going to be here when he crushed you; when he stops paying attention to you. I'm going to be here when he lets you down, and I'm not even going to say, "Told you so." I'm just going to be here, and pick up the pieces of your heart that won't be this crushed, if only you'd hear me. But don't listen to me anyway. It's your life. It's your game, your rules. I signed up for this. I'm your friend. 

The day I fell in love with your brain

"When I was 4 and ready to read books, I picked up my Dad's collection of Dahl's children stories. Mathilda blew my mind. She was my idea of the girl I'm going to marry: quirky as hell. I keep reading lots and lots of books from his library—his was so full of books it was like the inside of Beast's, you know, of Beauty and The Beast?—until one day I started reading Tolkien. I stopped wanting to read any other fantasy novels since then. I keep reading and reading, fell in love with Hemingway and Vonnegut... and at one point I was very into David Foster Wallace and James Joyce. But up until college starts, I lost track of who's who in literature, it's like New York breeds a new amazing name every week, and then I read Tolstoy. Who's not going to fall in love with War and Peace? It's clearly the most amazing novel I've ever read! Don't get me wrong, I really like Anna Karenina too, who won't? But while everyone thinks she's a miserable married woman, I think she's just naturally a bitch. It's probably just because of my mom being someone else's husband just days after he divorced my dad, but let's not talk about that. Anyway, have you read Dostoyevsky? I first read The Brothers Karamazov when I was in high school, and everyone thought of me as a freak because I finished it in about a week while it took me the whole term to finish The Catcher in The Rye. The thing with Holden for me is simple. I was a teenager, he was a teenager, but only one of us was being a jerk about it, and that's him. And just very recently, I finished Crime and Punishment once again. It's probably my eighth time. Russian novels are brilliant; they give you the kind of narration that's just impossible for people living in the first world like us. They can give you 50 pages description of some girl sleeping, and that's not an exaggeration. Sometimes I wish I were born Russian, blessed with the intelligence to love someone who's going to inspire me to write a novel like Fyodor. Now, I'm calling him by his first name. That's... embarrassing."