The Escapism
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The car was stucked in slow traffic,
I was not driving alone, but felt like it.
I know where I was going, it’s just why did I want to get there faster. No words at all, maybe we have too much going on inside the head, if it’s out, it ruins everything. Times flying by, I just sighed and sighed. Damn, what’s all this?
I’m back to the ever popular question,
WHY?
I didn’t hear anything, but why I felt so much? It’s not that it can’t be fixed, it’s just nobody wants to fix it. Playing safe? not really, people are not that smart.
There were we. Both silent, guessing each other’s mind, hesitate even to ask, or even to make a slight gesture.
Me and the road. Me and my way home. It’s just a matter of time.
We’re not allright.
We just don’t want to talk about it anymore.
We used to talk about it. But not now.
Then I am back again to the ever popular question,
WHY?
I guess I’m not that smart.
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Admission Committee
School of Life
Dear Sir,
I am:
- A person who thinks that I’m smarter than anyone else I hang around with, til I find myself being left behind by those simple people who rely on their faith to achieve everything that they dream of. Faith is the only subject taught that I apply only in certain times when any other ways look like a dead-end. A disgrace that I still ‘proclaim’ to the world that I’m a religious person. What ’s so great of becoming religious anyway?
- A person that is so scared that if I rely on faith, I thought that I might probably end up in a sorrowful song then I decided not to take all the appropriate and suggested portion of faith. I use only a little of it, but then threw it away after all.
- A quick learner. I learn quickly by life’s lessons, coincidence, and ‘oh my God’ moment. On the other side, I think slowly. And most of my steps are filled by procrastination.
- An opposer against those people who think and live in a world far from reality, whether when they decide something or when they feel something. I always think that if only they could be more realistic, all those troubles won’t come along their way. But at night, or whatever those times are called when you’re technically all alone and no voices around you except your own, I fantasize and live far beyond reality. Those dreams are pictured as having me as someone who can affect the world in a godly influence. I memorize all my dreams and goals, but tend to forget them when they appear.
- A person inherits multiple personalities. Bright and dark, light and heavy, simple and complicated, romantic and insensitive, hidden and showed-off, generous and greedy.
- A person who aims a better life, and I still have the desire and motivation to achieve it. I lack of motivation at times, but so far, I’m managed to get it back. I strive for reality, and wake up every morning for my dreams. At night I feel things, at noon I hear and see things. In my sleep I get them all.
I need more additional lessons to build up my skills (in faith). I believe that applying to your respective institution would be a great asset and a ‘to die for’ experience. Deal with faith and fail applying it for many times, I don’t think that faith would desert me from trying once again. This time I will be more assertive to get an A.
Thank you for considering my letter that I make with good intention. Dying to hear positive response from you soon.
An irony
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Today there were
Two accidents on the freeway. One was a mini van, the other was a big truck. As I passed the ruins, I was driving 80 Km/h while typing 5 SMS in a row.
A similarity between me and the poor drivers: We just need to appreciate life more.
How ironic, in one of the SMS to my brother, I typed:
“Rest well, think well, live well. Pray 4u.” (I typed it because he said that he was feeling ill and asking me to pray for him)
I wished he had replied me:
“Drive well, you stupid!” 
A second too late
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For every piece of me that wants you, another piece backs away.
You give me something, it makes me scared, allright.
This could be nothing, but I’m willing to give it a try
Please give me something, cause someday I might call you from my heart, but it might be a second too late
and the words I could never say are gonna come out anyway.
-JM-
Why is it so complicated?
13 melodramatic steps
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Step 1: *Click on the website and log-in*
Step 2: *View score*
Step 3: *Shout loudly frantically*
Step 4: *Jump high more than 5 times*
Step 5: *Say “yes, yes, yes” redundantly*
Step 6: *Run around*
Step 7: *Kiss kukuh on the cheeks and explain the unusual behaviour*
Step 8: *Call my good friends*
Step 9: *Send SMS to my brother*
Step 10: *Wait anxiously for my brother’s reply*
Step 11: *Got the reply*
Step 12: *Smile*
Step 13: *Yawn, look at the clock on the screen, then grin*
It’s 1:37 AM, don’t feel like sleeping.
I think I’ll repeat the steps.
Plain milk
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Nowadays, there’s only a tiny tiny slight difference between telling someone “I care for what you’re going through” and “I’m better than you”. Both of them are said sincerely. Think about it!
Nobody is as plain as milk. We are all decorated and covered too merrily.
60 minutes
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Dad called me this morning as I woke up with a spinning head. It feels like there’s a wacko knocking on my left-brain with a giant hammer for fun. Enthusiastically he kept talking to me, though it’s not much, for in a minute he only said not more than 15 words (not that I’m counting!). I could feel every word he said, I waited for the next word to come out. He spoke so slowly, so limited, in fact I felt that he didn’t know what else to talk about. While I was busy with the ‘wacko that’s been knocking my brain’, I listened to every word he said, but didn’t respond quite well. Honestly I wanted to tell him to hang up, since the pain is unbearable. Til he said, “it’s 60 minutes left on the phone card. I think I’ll just spend it til it stops by itself.” Then I said to myself, “What? 60 minutes?” and I confirmed to him, “60 minutes? or 60 seconds?” for I wasn’t sure of what I heard. My dad wants to talk to me for 60 minutes? you’ve gotta be kidding. Like you know what you’re going to say to me. My dad isn’t like my mom. I am completely sure that my mom could talk to me for 60 minutes, for she has a lot to talk about on her mind, and she’s able to communicate what she has in mind. But my dad? I’m not sure. I’m not sure either that I have much to talk to him for 60 minutes. 60 minutes is a very long time, in terms of conversation between a daughter and a father like us. Worse, the daughter was so busy dealing with the headache, and she couldn’t think straight.
Instead of opposing his idea to spend the rest of 60 minutes on the phone, I said to him, “Ok, let’s spend the 60 minutes.” I was testing him, and myself.
So he began to talk about an idea, then I responded. Next, he talked of bringing a new luggage home so I can take it to the “black bear” city. I agreed. Then, he talked about fixing the house-roof when he gets back, along with my response bla bla bla… Oh God, I ran out of words. I can’t even start a new topic with him. I didn’t even ask anything from him to tell me. At that time I was wishing that 60 minutes is like 60 seconds. While listening and talking to him, I was talking to myself. Perhaps it’s more like: I was talking to myself while talking to him.
Then we got to the moment where both of us didn’t know what to say any longer. Silence appeared. I was counting every seconds. Then I said, “Well, dad, what if you call me again after you know the flight details.” He replied not more than 2 seconds, “Ja, OK, I will call you again soon after I know the flight details, OK?” We said bubbye.
I was thinking. My dad wants to talk to me for 60 minutes. He didn’t hesitate. If only I could respond to him well, perhaps we could talk for 60 minutes. Until I find that talking to him could actually be something new, something fun? Knowing him could be fun. Knowing him means changing me. I hate myself for not responding well to him. I was blaming the headache, but deep inside I know that it’s more than just the headache thing.
I was scared. I was scared that it wouldn’t go smooth. But one thing I know today, my dad has always been wanting to talk to me. Probably I could say, he’s longing to communicate with me. He’s longing to know me through me. Whatever the motive is, it’s a big relieve knowing that my dad wants to talk to me for 60 minutes. It’s just he can’t communicate what he has in mind. It must’ve been hard for him to be like that.
It’s such a rare invitation. The first ever. And I failed to respond. But next time I’ll be braver. I’ll take the risk. It requires practice. He’s made the first move. The next one would be mine. Just have to pray for another chance.
*This post is inspired by the commemoration of my good friends’ dad.
March 2005 was the time when they learned, that death has never been able to separate them from their beloved dad, for he keeps living and dwelling in their hearts until this very moment.
Why sit down?
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A seven or eight yearold smart Balinese student, Ni Wayan, has always been too much actively involved in any kinds of activities. She yells everytime she answers my questions or replying my greeting, in a ‘yabadabadoo flintstone’ style.
T: Hello, class, how are you? Are you happy?
N: YESSSSSSSSSS!!!!!! I’m HAPPPPPYYYYY!!!!
The first time she did that, I thought she was having fun, but she kept doing that til I thought that I needed to tell her to calm down a bit, since it already annoyed the other students.
Today it happened again, she stood up everytime she’s supposed to sit down. It wasn’t that she became an annoyance to the class, it’s just that she was so curious of what I was going to write on the board, what I was holding in my hands, or simply when she was replying or listening to my words, she felt so excited that she couldn’t just sit and be still. So she stood by her chair or went near me. For your information, the seat arrangement is half circle.
So I started to get impatient.
Scene 1
(She stood up)
T: Ni Wayan, how many times should I tell you to sit down.
(Then she sat down)
5 minutes later
(She stood up again)
T: Ni Wayan, why did you stand up again, anything you’d like to tell me?
N: No, miss.
(Then she sat down again, with her big, sparkling, and curious eyes)
Few minutes after, when the class was getting ‘hotter’ since we were talking and practising on likes and dislikes towards toys.
(She stood up again, not walking around anywhere, just stood by her chair)
(I started to get impatient)
T: Ni Wayan!!! Sit down, would you?!
N: Why, miss? Why sit down?
T: *stunned* and *starts thinking*
Hmm…hmm..hmm..because I told you so! (my face wasn’t friendly anymore)
(She sat down…again)
Last week when she was asking me the same question, “why should I sit down?”, I had come up with an answer: “Because it’s time for you to sit down, and if you stand up, you’re distracting your friends” since she stood up and spoke in a high pitched tone. Since a while she stood up and kept silent. But still, she stood up!
I thought to myself, I should’ve come up with a better answer. “Because I told you so” isn’t my favorite way of explaining something to a kid. Worse, I think it’s a bad answer. But sometimes in quick-response needed in certain situation, it’s all that you’ve got.
Anyway, it’s not an obligation for her to sit down. Perhaps I was just being threatened, since I like to prepare things or teaching aids to ’surprise’ my students, I don’t want her to find out what I was going to present before I present it. I’m such a kid myself.
Few minutes after “because I told you so”, it happened again. I bet she was thinking of something to get even with me.
(She wasn’t sitting on her chair, she was sitting on the floor. She reached the floor straight from her chair, without any ’standing” movement. It all happened out of my sight. The last time I noticed, she was already on the floor.
T: Ni Wayan, sit down on your chair.
N: Why miss? I’m not standing at all. I sit. I sit on the floor, see? I didn’t stand before I moved to the floor.
T: Oh my, please sit nicely on your chair, not on the floor. And don’t get off the chair if I don’t tell you to. Okay?
(She’s back on the chair again)
There you go.
Until now, I’m still wondering, what’s the better answer to that question?
“Why should I sit down? Can’t you see that I am excited about this whole thing?” Perhaps that’s what on her mind.
It will happen again soon, for I know that she hasn’t had a good reason to sit down.
I’d better come up with a better answer when she asks me next time, since I don’t know the answer myself.
LOL
T is either Tortoiserocks or Teacher
sparkling eyes and lavish smile, one of a kind
March, I’m with you
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As I and some good friends were having our delicious and irresistible dinner, one of them was talking about someone, and it was like hitting the ‘panic’ button inside my head (above my rumbling tummy). As usual, I tend to get stupid and unwise easily everytime while I’m hungry. So I started to panic and complain a lot about something that’s been my expectation and struggle nowadays. I complained and complained, whined, had a blank stare, I kept talking until I realized that I was over the line. The trouble was self-made, it was totally unnecessary.
I whole-heartedly agree on what my brother wrote:
“I think, life is not only an individual and single game for us, but also a team game because there are a lot of interactive or multiple impacts that could change the flow of life. you may take the control of the ship, but you still need your crew, the good weather, the cooperative sea, the right wind direction and anything that you’ll need during the trip until you reach the destination harbor.”
I’m about to set sail now. I’ve got the destination, I’ve got the crew, the good weather, and almost everything that I’ll be needing during the sail. The weather and sea might not always be calm and cooperative, but with the exact calculation and plan, a sailor’s gotta go when a sailor’s gotta go. It’ll be worthwhile, when I get to the destination.
I thank God that I’ve got friends that love me for who I am. They love me truly enough for me to see that they often have to provoke me when I’m being stupid and stubborn. They would say, “You’re being ridiculous, you’re over-reacting.” They would say things that I often don’t want to hear, it’s nothing but the truth. Where can you buy that kind of thing all over this planet?
I do really think that I am blessed.
March, I’m with you.
I’m feeling kinda:
Should I need umbrella?
I’m reading:
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