I Say A Little Prayer For Me

I wish I could deny myself the fact that we are the choices that we made. I wish I could say that, no, we are not defined by them. Those decisions cannot define me, because they are only occasionally made, sometimes I can be right or wrong, and I shouldn't be defined by who I am at a one-time occasion. But the truth is, I can't. I can't deny the fact that sometimes I'm right and sometimes I'm not, and that sometimes I'm stupid, sometimes I'm smart. My life cannot be defined just by the smart decisions, because a smart life isn't about a life so full of good decisions. A smart life should be a life where I know how to live with myself, and have a good sleep at night, knowing that I've done myself enough good to the me who keeps on feeding and feeling my emotions.

The truth is, we are the result of the choices we made. You wouldn't be sitting on that desk on your hopelessly dull office if you decided not to come to the interview several months ago. You wouldn't have a purple hair if you didn't tell your colourist to do so. The truth is, bitter as it seems, you are responsible for your own (un)happiness. It's not always destiny playing dice on you, no. Sometimes it's you sabotaging your way into happiness, and nobody else is to blame for it. You can be manipulative to yourself, you know? Sometimes I lie to myself in more times than I am being honest, and if that wasn't a depressing enough fact, I don't know what is.

Being true to yourself will set you free. It will give you a good night sleep. It will send you to a nirvana of sweet dreams. It will give you the chance to make friends with yourself. Isn't that nice to hear? To know that you haven't ruined your life beyond repair?

Staying Sad and Moving to Happier Places

People can't stay sad forever, yes. They can, but they shouldn't.

But when they're not ready, should they be forced to move to a happier place?

Cold Weather

This holiday post has been long overdue--I know, not that I intended to--and it's even started to smell like spring somewhere (where?) But I owe you this in a way. I've been gone, and when I came back, I felt like writing a lot of sad and melancholic posts instead of sharing some bits of my holiday to you... Where were my manners?!

So, yes, I went to the US of A, as you've probably heard people whispered. It was more for the Christmas rather than New Year's Eve, as I didn't even get a proper new year celebration this year. It all started from the East Coast, which meant that I could play Taylor Swift's Welcome To New York a couple hundred times and felt her excitement about the city *cue T-Swift new album on the stereo*

What do I think about New York? Well, try what don't I think about New York! You know how I always have this life-long fascination towards London? Well, it hardly compared to how excited I am about New York City. Every street, every building, every monument, seem to mean something for me, the ever-crazy fangirl of rom-coms based in New York. Empire State Building will always be Sleepless in Seattle, and Bryant Park in winter will forever look like the witness of Kate Beckinsale and John Cusack's impossibly cute love story in Serendipity. It's so interesting. So wild. And I couldn't seem to catch my breath with every city's landmark passed before me.

I love East Coast for how it feels like the laid-back Europe that it is, but I strongly hate the climate. Like normal winters, it was constantly dark and bitter cold there--not to mention in danger of rain and possibly snow. I have terribly dry and flaky facial skin even at home in Indonesia, so could you imagine how wonderful it would be staying in the East Coast for me?! Well, luckily, I was smart enough to visit Sephora on my first day in New York, and the BA generously put me on a proper winter skincare regime that I learned to grasp quickly. She used (of course) very expensive stuffs, but I ran to CVS immediately and get my own version of the products that helped. As a result, when everyone in the tour complained about how flaky their lips and skin became, I didn't experience the same thing (even though I couldn't do anything about my frizzy hair, I'm just glad it's still kind of short) I did, however, complain about how I catch a cold and could not stop sneezing and coughing.

In that sense, I owe a huge gratitude to Josie Maran Argan Oil Light, Clinique Moisture Surge Extended Thirst Relief moisturizer (A gel formula that my skin drinks like serum. This is basically magic to my dry skin!) Aveeno 24 Hour Moisturising Lotion for my body (because I'm an idiot for taking super-long hot showers as it dried my skin even more) and at night time, I practically slathered myself in Egyptian Magic Cream. Oh, and Cherry Chapstick all throughout the day. I bought it originally because of that Katy Perry song (I know, I'm so cliche) but then surprised at how awesome it is at $2!!!!! Sometimes I long for the day my local beauty brands back home could be so cheap and work so well at the same time.

Compared to the first leg of the trip where I spent my days and nights trying to bundle myself up in so much layers and inhaling faux fur from my angora shawl, my West Coast trip was so much better. I can't believe how bitter it is to swallow up the pride that I had several years ago when I told everyone that I'd never been interested to go to LA because it's so shallow and pop and plastic... Well, the younger-than-21-years-old me knows nothing, my friend. Because the 21-year-old me definitely thought that LA is really nice. A really nice place to be--if not live. I took this picture in front of the Tiffany & Co. Beverly Hills Golden Triangle as an aspiration, because, why not? Maybe 40-year-old me would've been able to wear one of his designs on my finger, who knows? (Amen to that, please)

Now, I may be 21 years old, and have been to all of the Disneyland theme parks in the world (well not really, never been to Orlando yet, but, in the American continent) and knows full well of the tricks to be able to enjoy the rides better (Single Rider lines, Fast Pass tickets before everything, early lunch, etc.) but I'm still so excited about it mainly because of the new characters added to their festivities. I spent the entire Christmas Day in Disneyland fighting the cold wind despite sunlight (thanks, Cali winter) yelling at Olaf balloons and whining about the long queues at photo sessions with Elsa and Anna. I got myself an Olaf plush doll (because I collect plush dolls, in case you didn't know) and a Maleficent headband. I think I scared off some kids while wearing it all day, because I saw some little girls look at me nervously as if I was an evil stepmother. Well guess what, little girls? The older you get, the more you'd understand how Maleficent is the closest thing to real-human experience Disney has ever made. And they call me an awful big sister because I tell the truth. *sigh*

The highlight of my LA trip, though, is the Universal City. THIS IS AS SHALLOW AS LA GETS, AMIRITE?

Well, sure. But as a Hollywood enthusiast, life cannot get any better than a visit to the Universal City and getting on that Studio Tour ride hosted by Jimmy Fallon. Yes, he is my ideal kind of husband, but that is not why I love Universal City. I love it because of the diversity of its characters--you can practically see Bart Simpsons walk around Megatron and Minions side-by-side and not feel weird about it. The day I came to Universal City was what the Brits call 'Boxing Day', which is the day after Christmas, and The Mindy Project was shooting that day. Of course I didn't get to see my long-lost Indian big sister Mindy Kaling, but I went passed Stage 27, where they were filming, and I was hysterical. Not really proud of the way I acted that day, but, that was my experience, and I thought I'd share it with you because I know you guys accept me just the way I am and I really love you for that *smooches*

Okay, so this post isn't complete without sharing my thoughts about Las Vegas. I admit that I'm not really a wild soul, and it wasn't like I get to do anything crazy because I was there with my family, but I think I wouldn't enjoy it too much anyway even though I wasn't. Maybe it's just me hating the sticky casino air thick with alcohol and cigarette smoke everywhere I go, but I'm just not into a place where it's constantly evolving in such materialistic way. I didn't really enjoy Dubai, didn't love Vegas, and I suspect I wouldn't enjoy Macau that much (but, what do I know? I was wrong about LA)

Another bucket list ticked off during my trip: GRAND CANYON! (The other one is Disneyland, because it's been an obsession of mine to visit every single Disneyland in all the continents in the world)

The Grand Canyon is a magnificent work of art that clearly wasn't man-made. It's not rocket science for me to believe in the Higher Power while I was here; in fact, it was rather very spiritual to be there. There's a lot of Native Americans working here, which I think is quiet nice of them to acknowledge their existence rather than shoving them off out of the picture. It's hot topic to be talking about racial discrimination these days, but I liked what I see here---and the fact that there was just so many Chinese tourists coming to the US was overwhelming. I mean, wasn't there extreme poverty in China just a few years ago?? Now they massively travel to the US wearing the latest Marc Jacobs coat?? What a great nation it is. 

Okay, so you probably wanna ask me, which city do I like the most? Well, I'm kind of sad to announce that it had to be the last city that I visited that was my favourite. Do you know how my heart beats for London? Well, it beats almost the same way while I was in San Francisco. Better weather, though. Even though it can be foggy and terribly windy, at least it's not constantly under the threat of wet rains everyday. It's really, really nice to be here. They charge you for every shopping bags you need, but at least they have lower tax than New York. I like how open to LGBT Frisco is, with rainbow flags proudly present in many houses and buildings around the city, and, oh, those steep roads... It can be quiet an exercise just strolling around the shops at Union Square. 

And that selfie above, taken right in the middle of the Union Square's infamous Christmas tree on my last day of the holiday, is how much I am willing to ridicule myself to take a bare-faced selfie. I never let myself go bare-faced in the winter because I will look homeless, so I swore by my Sephora Cream Lip Stain in Always Red or my trustworthy pinky coral MAC LE Archie lipstick in Betty Bright (on a bad day, it makes me look like Nicki Minaj, though, so I'm not always so fond of it). Also, I learned to put some colour on my cheeks to look more alive because winter skin could look so dull (and mind you, I'm MAC NC30). So you see, it was a worthwhile experience to be in this winter holiday, beauty-wise, even though it left me longing to stay in that kind of weather, because it never let my face shiny so much.

Now, it's no longer time for me to keep talking about such an ancient holiday story (I've even used up that Josie Maran organ oil because I love it so much and I'm so galau where I could repurchase it). In case you skipped this post all the way to this end, I would like to sum it for you: if you only got a limited time, spend it in SF. I'll leave you with the view from the Peak Point, and I dare you not to swear you'd go there someday the second you have the chance. 

I C U

How did it happen?
I close my eyes and suddenly you were there
In a car
Behind the wheels
And I was there
Your co-pilot
Your companion
Your confidante
You talked
I talked
And things got serious
But sad
I had to be honest
But you found out anyway
I said no
You said okay
If this was a fairytale, we'd kiss
If this was a poetry, we'd hit
But it was a blind hope
A false illusion
A mythical subconscious mind
Because if this was a reality, I'd be disappointed
The truth has never been so fond of me
I keep getting hurt
You keep getting stumbled
How did it happen?

Tahiti 8

I have always loved unicorns. When I was younger, I pictured it as a this majestic creature that's pure white, the holy hybrid of a beautiful horse and bird and some animal with horns (I'm not really good with animals, I can tell you that). It was only later that I realised unicorns are mythical. They don't exist. They only exist in this world because people love myths. People love the idea of them. But they were never really part of this world. Not a chance.

In my teenage years, I met you. You, who's so out of this world and too good to be part of it. All of a sudden, you are the epitome of unicorns to me. You are a unicorn. My unicorn. Actually, scratch that; because you never belong to me, and were never mine to begin with.

It's not love, is it? Because if I love you, I should be picturing myself standing at the altar, vowing to stick with each other through sickness and health, 'till death do us part, right? If I love you, I should have the drive to do something, to make do of the little time we have together. If I love you, those sights we so insistently exchanged should lead into something else rather just 'oh, that made my day'. If I love you, I should know better than to prepare myself to let you go again.

Because maybe this time, there ain't no big ceremony with loud music and hymns and chimes to remark the last time I could be standing next to you.

Because the way it did back then, I got by with a little help from my friend. And I think I've gotten rid of said friend the way I should've gotten rid of my memories of you from the first place.

If you ask me, it's pretty weird. Why here? Why now? Why you? Why me? What were the odds?

So I guess that's life for me. I have so many unanswered questions, but I'm pretty comfortable in not knowing. I know I don't love you, because if I do, it would be so much more complicated. I know that it's only a beautiful coincidence, and it was bound to end one way or another. This is how mean the universe can be to me; I hope this is the universe being extremely nice to you. 

I know that... somewhere along the way, I'm gonna miss you. As I always do. How many people can actually say that, "Oh, it feels familiar, I've been here before." I'm gonna go back to square one and learn how to live my life in a better way (Like I said, I should've gotten rid of my memories of you long before today) 

It's not my life going in reverse... It's my life learning one of its biggest lesson. I don't know if I should be proud that you're one part of it, because you don't even know it. But if there should ever be one person that I can say made a difference in my life (and better yet, he doesn't even it), it's you. And I'm not regretting it. 

Star-Crossed Person

I know that you don't know this. In a way, I don't want you to. I don't want you to know just as much as I wish by God you'd know. I'm a complete paradoxical moron who doesn't know what I'm talking about. But, let me finish.

When I first came here, it was because of you. I didn't think that it was any good or bad for myself. You were all I had in my mind. My motivation. My vision. My sole purpose. My never-let-go. My almost. My separated-at-birth like-minded kind of person.

But time goes by and I realised that, well, it's no longer about you. I'm my own person now. I'm on my own mission, and I'm about to accomplish it. You were just the grand prize that interested me in the first place, but I was never about the prize; I'm about the journey, even though I still have my eyes on the prize.

And then, that news came along. You're leaving. I knew you were about to, so I'm not very surprised. But I was disappointed. Not at you for leaving, but for myself. All this time that I've been here, what have I done? Where's the prize? What's in the journey for me?

Even after all this time, I am still the expert on lying to myself. You matter to me. In a way, you always do. And that hurts, because I shouldn't feel this way. It's not healthy for me.

I have come here for nothing, and even though they don't know you like I do... They know you. I don't.

This is why they always say, never let your happiness be based on someone else's presence. This is how easy everything could fall into pieces if you do. And I had to learn it the hard way. The unrecommended way. The worst possibility there is.

I'm losing sight of where to go from here, but I don't blame you. I don't blame anyone, but I'm trying to forgive myself. It's hard. It's so hard. It won't be my first time, I just didn't know that I had to do it again so early in my twenties. But I had you to thank for this. If it wasn't because of you, this is not how it's gonna go for me.

I wish I could tell you how I feel what you feel. Maybe that way you could tell me how wrong I am about everything, and then everything would be easier. But an easy life is not a life. 

In the meantime, I'll be fine. Eventually. I'm sure you'll be fine, too. We deserve happiness, you and I. We'll find our own ways to get it. We'll pursue it together; in separate ways. In my way. In your way. Never knowing if it'll ever cross again.

A New Hope

You know what I really like about January?

It's that there's just so many hopes, and reflections, and expectations, and wishful thinking in the air, that every time I take a breath, it feels more refreshing than any other time of the year. January always promises of so many excitement, and guarantees an adventure worth taking for the next 11 months.

The best thing about life, I believe, is that it is the result of all the things that we choose from the options that we have. We are the choices that we made and the decisions that we take. More than 50% of what our lives is, is entirely our choice. It's a canvas that we get to paint with our own colours. Sometimes, there's hand that will help us shape the puzzles; but that's okay. Because we all need a little help sometimes. We all need a little guide. We all need somebody to rely on.

So, happy new year, my dear readers. Let yourself be proud of the things that you chose, because nobody else is gonna do it for you. May the odds be ever in our favour.

A. 

Quick Review: 2014

I really can't help but feel like I owe you something by not having posted anything to conclude 2014, as I always do as my last post of the year. By the time I'm writing this, it's 11:10 PM in GMT-8, where we're still dealing with the last minutes of 2014, and, well, it's not yet 2015. I know, I cheated a little here, but, okay.

As I'm sitting here in SFO Airport boarding room, I'm trying to make a quick review of how 2014 went for me. And the dark night sky with ornamented fluorescent lights outside inspired me to say, that, with the highest of respect that I have for the year where I graduated college and officially become an adult at barely 21 years old, this has been a year of revamping.

I say revamping because, whether you realise it or not, I'm constantly struggling to adapt to my situation this year. The adult situation. The office situation. All the other situation that I am not used to. I'm still struggling now, and I will continue to try my best even in 2015. But it can't escape my notice that it's been almost a year, and I'm still not an expert in this.

I promised you, in my last post of 2013, that I will be a changed person, and, as much as possible, better. I don't think I have succeeded to become a better person this year, but the definition of better will always be different to one another. It has been a wonderful year... But I know I hoped that it would've gone... smoother.

I know that no one has had it easy in their early twenties, perhaps not even Bill Gates. Or Mark Zuckerberg. And that comforted me a little. But I know that I'm going to have to change that soon... Before it's no longer my decision. Before it's all for naught.

So, yeah. It's almost 2015 here, too. Here's to a good new year. Here's to a beautiful days ahead.

Here's to your future endeavours.

Happy new year.

San Francisco, 31 Dec 2014 11:21 PM

The December Playlist

December is a funny oxymoron thing. It's the time of the year where ambition has run slow, while optimism is at its highest. It brings the most melancholia out of the twelve months we're given in a year, what with the grey sky and sweater weather, and the sudden urge of staring out the window while sipping a cup of hot tea... 

I'm not gonna lie, but it's my most favourite activity in December. Last year, I spent the whole month sitting in a Starbucks sipping my favourite hot green tea latte, overlooking a desolate man-made lake, reading my terribly boring law books, with the bluest Christmas love songs playing on the background. Now, look me in the eye and tell me that doesn't make you want to jump into the lake and drown along with all the freaking algae growing sporadically down under. Ugh.

Today, however, even though the situation is different, I'm not saying that it's better. It's not better, it's just different. But now at least, even though I still want to jump into said lake sometimes, I've got my own sad songs playlist that should accompany me for that very dramatic drowning scene---because I'm a big girl and I can decide for myself now.

So here it is, my top 10 sad songs that plays in my head all through December (I won't cheat by putting all my favourite folk songs together, swear in the name of Ray LaMontagne!):

1. A Case of You by Joni Mitchell

The way this woman sings is what I'd call beautiful and painful. She should be the only woman singing on the background of every movie scene where the prettiest girl at the party is always the saddest. Try not feel your heart squeezed like a fresh lemon while listening to this song, I dare you.

PS: There's a cover of this song by James Blake, which is so wonderfully beautiful, and it will rip your heart open like never before. 

2. Into My Arms by Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds

This song is sad, romantic, depressing, and overall melancholic, all at the same time. It's the perfect song for when you desperately love someone but God was the only one you can talk to because other people can't know---they just can't. The love is too intense and secret and beautiful for everybody to find out. This is that song. Because when you know someone will choose the kind of God he will worship based on whether or not He will bring you to him, you know that someone is crazy, possibly creepy, but crazy about you nonetheless.

3. Strange and Beautiful (I'll Put A Spell on You) by Aqualung

Aqualung is the expert of singing about love. This one, though, is my favourite 'unrequited love' song that gets to haunt me every single time.  It's hopeful, sad, and self-conscious; like that time you were looking at your coolest senior in high school even though he never cared, but you wish that there is a way that he would, and you secretly want to cast a spell on him. It's that desperate, really.

4. I Can't Make You Love Me by Bonnie Raitt

Everybody knows that one of the most heartbreaking moments in someone's life is the first time they realise that they can't make someone love them no matter how much they try. Actually, someone's love life can't get harder than that. Maybe. Most likely. And there's also a cover by Bon Iver. Because Bon Iver likes to get people to bawl their eyes out, apparently.

5. Gale Song by The Lumineers

I'm not #TeamGale, but listen to this song and imagine being Gale: The Alpha male. The strong, handsome man in the middle of desperate, dusty miners who's in love with the super-feminist, strong-headed woman who doesn't need you. You really wish there is something you can do; when she's whimpering in pain, when she's stressed out and depressed as hell... But there isn't any way that you can help to fight for her. You can only see her through the screen. And eventually, after so much hopeless stares through the pictures... You've gotta let her go.

*sobs*

6. The Scientist by Coldplay

I was thinking of putting any of the songs from their most recent album, Ghost Stories, but then decided that The Scientist remains the saddest, moodiest song Coldplay has ever produced. And the music video--oh, the music video. Tell me you didn't cry when you re-watch it, listened to the lyrics, and having that someone from your past haunting you back just in time you were ready to be happy again. Tell me. 

7. Rosyln by Bon Iver & St. Vincent

Every single of Bon Iver's songs sounds like the coldest day of winter in Middle Earth. But this? This song sounds like a worn-out wanderer walking through Middle Earth in the coldest day of winter, starving, teeth bleeding and crying with blood-shot eyes. And it's not even half his journey. 

8. Happiness by The Fray

We must be old enough by now to know that sometimes, something that happen in our life can be both happiness and sorrow. Sometimes, we're sad when we should be happy. And sometimes, I long for happiness just when life keeps on sending me reasons to be sad. But it's a good life. Hold on.

9. Cold Water by Damien Rice

Sadness can feel like it's giving you chills; it can feel like drowning in a sea of cold water with no one there to help you back to the surface. Sometimes sadness can feel like singing with your eyes all teary and all your power used up to hold back your tears. And sometimes, sadness can feel like listening to this song; and it's much better than the other two.

10. How by Regina Spektor

Letting go of someone (or something) can be messy. And this song sums it up: not wanting the memories to fade, but knowing full well that time will come and heal everything, and that someday somewhere, they'll meet again. But at the moment, you are a guest here now. 

Metanoia

I'm the kind of person who regards a meaningful conversation as highly as a businessman sees money. My favourite books are the ones with quiet a few conversations so remarkable that I had to highlight them every so often. My favourite movies are all Before Sunrise-type; full of conversations, either deep or small, but lacks in anything else other than two people talking. My writings--they have no action, only talks. But you should know that I'm not a good conversationalist. In fact, I hardly ever start a conversation with someone, and even if I do, it usually end up to be awkward. But I love talking to people. I love exchanging spoken words with someone, because it's like opening another window to a new world. It's interesting.

And some conversations, as rare as it seems, went so deep and honest that it became remarkable and inspired an essay. Some of them happen in a bedroom, some on top of a mountain... and some happen in a seaside chocolate bar overlooking an endless ocean.

Remember when, three--almost four--years ago, I was a college freshman with broken dreams and longing to feel okay with the way that I am? When I wrote this post and thought that I know the first thing about not knowing where to go, wishing I haven't messed up my life beyond repair?

Remember?

Well, me neither. I'd like to think it was just a phase... But maybe the truth is, what I mean by phase is the state that I was in between that time and now. 

Because look at me now. Look how I still don't feel any different now. Or to be fair, how I've come back to square one.

I'm the kind of person who thinks that one should always be open for any possibilities. Theoretically, I'm an expert. I can be your go-to person to talk to about how life doesn't always go according to plans, how you could spend four years of college training to be an accountant and end up being a photographer, or how your degree in Russian lit doesn't always mean you will be a translator to some cold-blooded ex-communist men. I'd say, 'Oh, but life is so full of possibilities. What's interesting about life is that we never know what it has in store for us.' What a goddamn bullshitcliche.

The truth of the matter is, I'm not ready. I'm not ready to be the one who's in that scenario; when I'm the character instead of the observer. You see, I'm always that person who needs to be constantly reminded that: talk is easy. Because I'm awful at doing. I don't know how Aristotle had it; was he also only good at theorising and not at realising? Was he a pure philosopher who thinks but not do?

Paul Gauguin is one of the many people I'd consider a rockstar. For one, he's a legendary painter, and for that also held the curse of being a lousy lover. But I see him as someone who could do the thing that I wish I would have the courage to do someday; the thing I couldn't quiet fathom my obsession with; the thing that scares the hell out of me. 

I would like to believe that, like Gauguin, it is never too late to change your vocation. There is always time, just as much as there is always something you must sacrifice for the greater good. And maybe he didn't even know it was for a greater cause--maybe he just did it. Because he wanted to. Because he could. And he'd never looked back, because he was doing the right thing for him. Because he took a chance on himself and never feel sorry for it.

I guess it says something about me when my favourite quote is someone telling the story of how a stockbroker abandoned his family to become a legendary painter who suffered of syphilis in a Pacific island. I came to the point of thinking that everyone should be as brave as he was. I thought that nobody was born to something--they can always do something about it. Because the universe is limitless.

It's my own thoughts that limit me.

It's the voices in my head that do the talking, that sometimes I feel like I shouldn't be let alone with my own thoughts, especially--and I didn't say this lightly--my 3 AM thoughts. I may be thinking and worrying too much, but... how on earth do you not do that?