Gratitude

I have this one old friend of mine who's really, really good at giving compliments to people, and I have to say, that is one of the best traits in her that I haven't really seen in a lot if people. For as long as I can remember being friends with her, I have almost never heard her hating on someone while I cannot count how many times she's been giving compliments to people who just seem so-so to me. I know you will be reading this, N. So let me just thank you for showing me how nice someone could be, in this corrupt times and world where compliments are as rare as a truly good #nofilter photo on Instagram.

And the thing with me is that I suck in receiving compliments. When someone gave me a compliment, I never knew what to do with it. Should I smile? Should I say thanks? Should I say "Dammit! I knowwww!" Or should I stay humble and honestly tell them that I don't think I deserve the compliment, so stop showering me with it?

Very recently, a good friend of mine had verry nicely written a post that was based on her experience findng me being very insecure with my own writing. She wrote a post about it, said she was inspired from that fortuitous moment, and the post she wrote was tremendously beautiful. I almost always fail at writing something nice in my own native language and I have to say hers was pretty brilliant. I didn't understand it at first, because, which part of it came from me being insecure of my own words seem oblivious. But those words have meaning. Those words hide something. Something that I couldn't see without further explanation. And that is the quality that is lacking in my own writing.

So my dear, this is me apologizing for not having understood your beautiful writing at first. This is me not knowing how to respond to your amusing reaction when you caught me red-handed. This is me doing the only thing that I know about: writing what was unspoken, what my lips could not say, and what my brain needed time to arrange. I didn't know how to deal with the fact that you wrote a post that was inspired by my action. I have never been the reason behind someone's writing just as much as I've never been the object of someone's poetry before. This is a first. This is me being a virgin at becoming the source of some's art. 

Thank you. I will not revert this to draft.

The fault

The problem lies not in my inability to move past the building of moments that you built for me. The problem lies not in the choices you made, and not even in the ones that's mine. The problem lies not even in you still talking the way you used to do 5 years ago. The problem lies in the universe trying to play with you, and me, and dragged me back to those years that felt so fun, and light, and easy; when you and I were still you and I, but more than a memory, or glimpses of how young we used to be. Those years when unspoken words became the thing between us. Us. Us never happened, but us felt even more real than anything else. I don't know how it did with you, not that I care. I have tried to sleep on it, but it was still there. It being, the fact that you still have all those qualities that were lacking in him. You are still this person who's easy to be liked. But what bothers me the most is this big fat 'why' in my head. I don't need an answer, but I need time to convince myself that sometimes people's path tend to cross, and this time it was you, and me.

What do I deserve?

First and foremost, I know you're not Paul Varjak and I'm not Holly Golightly and we don't live in the same flat in New York, but for all the love you've given me, I can only say thank you. And I'm sorry about that, I really am. Because maybe, well just maybe, I am a Bart Bass. I am incapable of love. So no matter how much love was showered to me, it didn't really matter. I am incapable of love, and therefore I was not built to accept the love you give me.

Or maybe I just don't know what I deserve, and what I don't. I don't know what's too high or too low for me, so chances are, maybe I do deserve your love, but I'll pass. Sad but true, because... Because once you're gone, I know I'm probably gonna lose you forever. This is not a great romance film, and I wouldn't fight for someone who could only thank me for all the love I've given if I were you. So, it's not our fault, really. It's not, so you can stop thinking what you did wrong and hate me forever. And when that day comes, that day when I regret the things that I have done to you, I would hate myself too. Even more than I already do.

Here's my ridiculous arguments. They sound really stupid and unnecessary and unacceptable, but they are mine. They are smart and essential and completely acceptable for me. And so just as much as I have always respected your choices, I hope you would respect them too.

I think I love you too. I think I feel what you feel. My heart beats faster when you came across, or when you called me, even when they weren't to say you love me. My days weren't complete without talking to you, without finding out what's in your brain. You're not my type, not in any way. But as the time goes by I started to think that you're not so bad. In fact, you are a good person, but you just suck in representing yourself.

But hell, I don't feel what I think I'm supposed to feel when I'm really in love. Yes I think about you most of the time (Alright that's a lie. Almost all the time) But I don't become obsessed with it, you know? I don't remember you when I see a shooting star. The rain doesn't bring me memories of you. And when I tried to write about you, I'm stuck. I'm a writer, for God's sake. They say if I'm in love I should be writing a full novel, but with you I can't even write a single post. Maybe I'm one of those writers who cannot write when I'm not miserable. But that's not fair! I need to write about love while it's growing, not when it's already gone to waste. I must be careful not to be involved with you or anyone else just to be the subject in my works. Love ain't no business and I'm not Taylor Swift. 

The Big S

Happy new year dear fellas! 

I have spent so many hours since the clock ticked 00:00:01 in 2013, thinking about my very own new year's resolution. I was thinking I wouldn't have any, BUT, that was wrong. I know exactly what my resolution is. In fact, this is probably one of the years where I have some really big resolutions to unfold and so many concrete goals I need to score. I'm going to be sort of a different person this year, and I hope it wouldn't shock anyone, nor would it ever make me bitter. And seriously, I wish you could all support me, sending me prayers or just simply believe that I would be strong enough (and good enough, hopefully) to achieve whatever it is that I'm aiming. And even if I couldn't get there, please believe with all your heart that I would be strong enough to deal wih it too. And I hope the same passion would be withn you also. After all, get that fucking title, you bitch.

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.