You, it was always you

on the train this morning

I looked outside the window, wishing it was a Eurostar ride toParis

wishing I was going to meet you at Rive Gauche

wishing when I take off the train, it was Gare du Nord

and you were waiting for me outside, and it was warm and sunny

with a look that you gave one last time when your friend called me by my stupid nickname

your smile is the only thing that I could remember the best

I wanna take a stroll in Paris with you along the Seine

I wanna drink in Montmartre and be the millionth lover Eiffel has ever witnessed

Shiny Toy Guns's Seasons of Love is playing in the background

I wanna walk the streets in Paris with you and do this beautiful thing

dépaysement

and if you ask me who was I thinking to do it all with me?

you

it was always you

I can't believe it's still the same person after all this time

I need to understand that can't waste my time always wishing I was somewhere else.

My Strength is Not For Hurting

There are so many things going on in the world, and there's one thing to sum up what makes people never had enough war: human rights. But war is never the answer. War is always the wrong choice. Human rights is always the biggest reason, besides religion, to fight on a battle. "War is over, if you want it" according to John Lennon. It should be part of our concern that human rights is sometimes sacrificed for another human rights and more importantly in the global era, those who live in third world countries are the most unfortunate. Been living in one my whole life, I see how human rights isn't understood and introduced since early age. Why? Because it's not going to happen in this country, so why teaching kids about it? This is the biggest excuse for me to stay in law school. Be a human rights lawyer, fight for equality and stop the war. STOP THE FUCKING WAR! Because there's no gender, no religion, no color, no race, no sexual orientation, nothing, that makes us better than anyone else. The world is miserable enough already. Human rights for all. I love you!

In this dream I'm dancing right beside you

I was shooting a scene in my new film, No Strings Attached, in which I say to Natalie Portman,

“If you miss me. you can’t text, you can’t email, you can’t post it on my Facebook wall. If you really miss me, you come and see me.”

I began to think of all of the billions of intimate exchanges sent daily via fingers and screens, bouncing between satellites and servers. With all this texting, emailing, and social networking, I started wondering, are we all becoming so in touch with one another that we are in danger of losing touch?

It used to be that boy met girl and they exchanged phone numbers. Anticipation built. They imagined the entire relationship before a call ever happened. The phone rang. Hearts pounded. “Hello?” Followed by a conversation that lasted two hours but felt like two minutes and would be examined with friends for two weeks. If all went well, a date was arranged. That was then.

Now we exchange numbers but text instead of calling because it mitigates the risks of early failure and eliminates those deafening moments of silence. Now anticipation builds. Bdoop. “It was NICE meeting u” Both sides overanalyze every word. We talk to a friend, an impromptu Cyrano: “He wrote nice in all caps. What does that mean? What do I write back?” Then we write a response and delete it 10 times before sending a message that will appear 2 care, but not 2 much. If all goes well, a date will be arranged.

Whether you like it or not, the digital age has produced a new format for modern romance, and natural selection may be favoring the quick-thumbed quip peddler over the confident, ice-breaking alpha male. Or maybe we are hiding behind the cloak of digital text and spell-check to present superior versions of ourselves while using these less intimate forms of communication to accelerate the courting process. So what’s it really good for?

There is some argument about who actually invented text messaging, but I think it’s safe to say it was a man. Multiple studies have shown that the average man uses about half as many words per day as women, thus text messaging. It eliminates hellos and goodbyes and cuts right to the chase. Now, if that’s not male behavior, I don’t know what is. It’s also great for passing notes. there is something fun about sharing secrets with your date while in the company of others. think of texting as a modern whisper in your lover’s car.

Sending sweet nothings on Twitter or Facebook is also fun. in some ways, it’s no different than sending flowers to the office: You are declaring your love for everyone to see. Who doesn’t like to be publicly adored. Just remember that what you post is out there and there’s some stuff you can’t un-see.

But the reality is that we communicate with every part of our being, and there are times when we must use it all. When someone needs us, he or she needs all of us. There’s no text that can replace a loving touch when someone we love is hurting.

We haven’t lost romance in the digital age, but we may be neglecting it. In doing so, antiquated art forms are taking on new importance. The power of a hand-written letter is greater than ever. It’s personal and deliberate means more than an email or text ever will. It has a unique scent. It requires deciphering. But, most important, it’s flawed There are errors in handwriting, punctuation, grammar, and spelling that show our vulnerability. And vulnerability is the essence of romance. It’s the art of being uncalculated, the willingness to look foolish, the courage to say, “This is me, and I’m interested in you enough to show you my flaws with the hope that you may embrace me for all that I am but, more importantly, all that I am not.”

- Ashton Kutcher

This may makes you think.

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Heartbreak Warfare

It's Sunday and it's been a tough week for both my academic, social and private lives, and Saturday night was when it's all come to the worst. Someone has always told me that hearts do break, though it doesn't mean they were made to be broken. And when you're dreaming with a broken heart... no, it doesn't happen to me. When I have a broken heart I don't wanna go to sleep, because I can't sleep, because heartbreaks are painful. Very, very painful, and this pain I feel make me sleepless. I wonder how I could feel so brokenhearted when I didn't even feel a thing towards somebody before. I mean, I don't know what happened. I might kind of like him years ago, and it's really YEARS, but it wasn't anything serious or big or anything. Now what happened? Why do I feel this pain? What kind of pain is this? I need someone to talk to, but this kind of matter isn't very important that people won't understand. I must be too sensitive or just stupid. The two pictures above shows exactly how I feel and what I wanna say right now.

I've come to the point where I understand this

Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.

Ferris Bueller's Day Off

You don't have to run or walk, you just have to dance

I believe that there is such a thing as coincidence, that there is some good in bad people, that at the end of the tunnel, there's still light, and that not everything in life is as beautiful as a sunrise in Paris's Trocadero, so I choose to believe that we just need to have a little faith, because faith is what gets us moving.

Don't have nobody to call my own

La Brodeuse ou Mette Gauguin by Paul Gauguin

"Gauguin was a stockbroker in Paris, married, had five kids. One day he came home from work and told his wife he was leaving, that he was through supporting the family, that he had had enough. Just like that he fucking took off. He said he had always felt that he was a painter, so he moved to a rat-infested shithole and started painting. His wife begged him to come back, his bosses told him he was insane, he didn't care, he was following his heart. He left Paris, moved to Rouen, went from Rouen to Arles, from Arles to Tahiti. He was searching for peace, contentment, trying to fill that fucking hole he felt inside, and he believed he could fill it. He died in Tahiti, blind and crazy from syphilis, but he did it. He filled his fucking hole, made beautiful work, made beautiful, beautiful work... It takes a brave man to walk away, to care so much that he doesn't care about anything else, to be willing to obey what he feels inside, to be willing to suffer the consequences of living for himself. Every time I stand before his work it makes me cry, and I cry because I'm proud of him, and happy for him, and because I admire him."

(James Frey, My Friend Leonard)

Last year, the thing I kept holding on to for the rest of the year was Queen Latifah's quote. This year, I want Paul Gauguin to be my muse, my inspiration, my hero. His life was exquisite. Even calling it 'exquisite' would be an understatement. He was brave, the kind of brave that makes everyone fears. I hope this year you could enjoy your life more and fight for what you think is right. I hope you could be more Gauguin-esque; be bold. Choose your path, I don't know, be religious or atheist or agnostic, or come out of the closet, or do the things you never do before, challenge yourself to do the things you never do, not for the sake of the challenge but because you can. I hope you stop choosing to be mediocre unless you tried your best and still can't help but being one. Have a nice, inspiring ride.

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Survive A New Year!

Well, sometimes cynicism works

I've fallen in love with you but you never exist

Hi, who knows we're suddenly at the end of the year again?

A little evaluation, I posted fewer things this year, and I don't know what happened with me, why I didn't spend so much time posting here. I guess it's because I discovered the joy of Tumblr now and decided to categorize what I should publish via Tumblr or Blogspot or maybeTwitter. I've become what they call Tumbltard. But to be honest, some of my best writings are here, so... cheers for that :D

2010, you are my bitch!

I graduated high school this year, the high school I always thought wasn't the place where I belong, but again, maybe the best place I can be. I started going to law school, again, the college I always thought isn't the place where I belong and perhaps that's not going to change until the 3,5 half years to come. I'm so proud of myself because I have survived so many places where I don't belong that I started to think those places are actually the places where I belong but I just couldn't deal with it. I know it's probably too late to ask, but wish me luck here? ;)

At the end of the day, I started to look back, and I promised you last year that we're gonna have so much fun in 2010. Well, guess what? I made it! Or at least I did, and I hope you too. First of all, I travelled back to Europe in autumn, which was dazzling though not as wonderful as summer 2008. Second, I turned 17 and got my ID card, which means I'm legit enough for my own bank account and credit card, though not as far as getting my own visa (that needs no guardian) or getting into a club or whatever.

The not so flattering things come too, like losing best friends because they're moving on with their lives. I suppose I was the one to blame for that, but then again, maybe it's just the same old me: I suck at keeping old friends. I guess that's my only resolution for 2011. I wanna keep my old friends, stop being suck at it while also fighting my insecurities. People think that because I smile and I laugh and I don't seem to have drama in my life, then I'm so carefree and all that. No, baby. Each time I write something I usually hit the Backspace button just because I was insecure. I want you to know that it takes so much courage and bravery to be able to write this and publish it. And that's what I'm working on for next year.

Disappointments keep coming. I'm lucky enough that one of the biggest disappointment of my life happened this year and I had the chance to write it and a friend of mine, who should remain anonymous, told me how he liked the post. He doesn't compliment people a lot and I guess when you receive a compliment from someone who barely ever have a good idea about someone, you're allowed to feel happy. People say what makes a a good writing is when the writer really mean to say it. Well, he said he felt my disappointments and sadness through the writing. Other posts that people say is good are the ones that I write with all my heart, so, thank you guys!

I guess the best line to sum up all that I've learned this year is taken from a romantic movie Serendipity:

"It's not giving up, it's growing up"

I'm taking concrete steps on fighting my insecurities. From now on comments are allowed. I know not that many people would even bother leaving comments here, but again, it takes a courage to do this once again. You may leave comments in any post you like, even the old ones!

So, see you again next year! We're gonna have even more fun, even more joy to be grateful for!

Teenage Dream

4 years from now, when I'm done with my masters degree from LSE, I'm gonna stay in London, spend my spare times watching plays or alone in galleries or museums all around the town or maybe simply working at a small vinyl store in Notting Hill. I'm gonna travel to Paris at holidays and visit art museums. And then there I met you, standing right next to me, staring at the same painting and talk about it over coffees in a small café or cheap champagne in the banks of Seine River. In 24 hours, we'd decided to fall in love.

But maybe you never exist.

Normally, I would post something like this on Tumblr. But since it's been down since yesterday (they say minutes but they mean hours, or probably days) I'm posting it here. It's actually inspired by another post by Ratih, here.