Why I Give Up Fiction Books

Simply because reality is often quirkier. Sometimes I even can’t believe that they are really happening.

Early in my life, I used to read a lot of romance, detective, and fantasy books. Now I have my own supplies of romance, detective, and fantasy stories right in front of my eyes!

Will keep them coming to this blog… behold! :)

Delicious Upshot of the Road Madness

For all of you who are not familiar with Jakarta public transport system, I tell you, it’s crap. Buses are old and pickpocket haven. Trains are ugly and kill people. Taxi is the brighter side but make sure you pick the one most reliable, the others are joining buses and trains in the crap side. There’s also this one called Bajaj, a three-wheeler originally from India, a small, bright orange, obnoxiously loud road madness.

It’s been a while since I use any of them. And I don’t miss them, honestly. But yesterday I get my chance to do some reminiscence with one of those darlings, the bajaj. See, I went to one of my account office in a messy part of Jakarta. I put my car in the nearest shopping mall with the nice parking lot, saving it from possible scratches from that chaotic traffic in the area. I took a taxi to get there, but then I couldn’t find any on my way back. There were bajajs, so I took one. Bajaj fare is determined by a bargain between you and the driver. I’ve lost all my ability to bargain, so I said yes to his price. Then what do you know, it turned out to be a fun ride. My bajaj maneuvered agilely in between cars and buses and motorbikes and everything in the traffic. Took me ten minutes to the usual twenty minutes ride since it went to small lanes only fixed for bajajs that bigger vehicle can’t get through. And my biggest delight of the day: it passed through this famous traditional fragrant rice eatery I’ve been longing to go but never sure where it was. Hooray for that small, bright orange, obnoxiously loud road madness! :)

Ms. F Gets Me Through

Let me describe you Ms. F. She’s in her early thirties. She’s lean and lanky. Cropped softly-highlighted hair. Strong yet cute nose. Soft jawline with cute, rather chubby naturally pink cheeks. Just the right tone and flawless fair-skinned, she reminds me of ancient Chinese princesses. She walks classily. She moves elegantly with chin slightly up, confident yet amiable.

It was a high profile, very tough summit. Months of work pressed into a three days workshop. Yet I feel like walking on an immensely beautiful flower bed. All because of Ms. F. She sat beside me all along, I could all the time had a close look on her cute, rather chubby naturally pink cheeks. Watched her walked classily and moved elegantly with chin slightly up, truly amiable.

Ms. F is now back to her office, me to mine. Only a slight possibility that we will see each other again. But that three days summit aka walking on an immensely beautiful flower bed with Ms. F reminiscence will always brings my lips and heart a smile.

Of Wanting Ms. T

I’m sure there are moments in your life when you feel the solid ground under you slightly rickety. When you’re in an unfamiliar places, meeting new people, or doing things out of routine.

Well it’s not about the situation I want to talk about. It’s about who I want to be with, who I want to talk to, who I want to hold during that situation. It’s Ms. T.

They say when you think much about someone, somehow she will become aware of it. I wonder if Ms. T tickles now…

Glory of the SUV

Early this year I got myself an SUV. My first high ground clearance car after oh so long. Always been into the comfy ride and the need for speed of sedans, eventually I am being practical, that this challenging Jakarta road tarmac is better be coped with an SUV.

And last weekend I was so grateful of my gas-guzzling ride. See, along the main streets of Jakarta there is this busway lane, a lane exclusively for buses. This lane is separated from the main lane by a ten centimeter concrete separator. And last weekend I was stuck in a light traffic jam. In my right there was this empty unused busway lane. Then what do you know, I fearlessly maneuvered my car crossed the separator into that empty busway lane, and speed my way along the traffic jam in my left. Hahahaha it feels sooo good…

Yeah unleash yourself sometimes! :)

Purified and Formed

You do make mistakes. Grave ones sometimes. You swear on it, you cry on it. You feel foolish. You can’t believe you didn’t see it coming. Things you do in the tip of anger, when your logic is as intact as a schizophrenic’s. That after a nick of time you dearly regret it. Precious knowledge you blab to a suck-up, a fake, during a delirium of lust.

All good education comes in price. Comes in pricey. My three-year-ish in this company is a PhD in the education of life. Solid gold needs to be purified in fire. A prime katana needs to be formed in great force.

"Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars." Kahlil Gibran

Blame It to the L Word

Last weekend, one of my friends asked me to join her in this lesbian get-together in this on-and-off hangout place in one of Jakarta CBD area. I dropped by for only a short while since I had to go somewhere else later that night. And actually that short while was really all I need. See, I don’t really hang out with lesbian communities. My friends are close-knitted. Not out of the arrogant misdemeanor, it’s just that since I’m very in the closet, meeting tons of new people at once, that tons of new people suddenly know that I’m gay, really makes me giddy.

Back to the party. Long story short, the girls were swarming the place. I was amazed, this party was really successful, quantitywise. Then of course, naturally, my friends and I were scanning each of the participants. Then we got disappointed. All the blame to the L Word, since it poisoned us with the unlikely idea that lesbian parties should be packed with all this pretty, hip, fashionable gay women.

This saying “manage your expectation” is applicable every time, much to my dismay. Reality bites.

House of Cards

I admire Lillian. A true genuine person who lives by choice. She’s one of the bravest people I know, a person who dare to let everything go for something that she loves best.

Many people might not understand. She gave up a designer office chair, a prominent job which brings a prominent status, an all-round comfortable life. She prefers to live near the beach, dedicates most of her time for the beaches she loves, hugs the life in one breath as the beach breathes.

I was drawn to her spirit, her persona. And I can say we were going the way there, to build a house for both our souls to be together. But then one little thing happened. That little thing was an intense conversation on our beliefs. Then what do you know, our house was a house of cards, and that card on belief was the one in the very base. When it was pulled out, there it went.

We’ve said goodbye to our house. But I will always admire Lillian. For her bravery, for daring to let go of everything for something that she knows she loves best.

A Tribute

Nell is a great girl. She’s compassionate, soft spoken, merciful. Very generous, sometimes until the level of bleeding herself. She can love you more than you love yourself.

We spent some time together. Along the way, I only got all the best of her. She’s the right person, yet too bad, it was the wrong time. We didn’t share the same world. It’s like we spoke in two different languages.

I realize I haven’t thanked her properly for our time together, for her time, her love, and every tidbit sparkle of happiness we shared. Therefore this is a tribute to her.

Dear Nell, I wish you love, I wish you happiness. You deserve it.

The Bearable Lightness of Being

In this very moment, I’m single. I mean really really single. No girlfriend, no unfinished business with an ex, no friend with benefit, no serious heartthrob.

In my earlier years, this would be the period of agony. Oh this emptiness, oh this hollow in my heart, oh this oh that. But then from that point, I experienced many things. Went a long way to hell and back. Crossed path with all these girls. Pretty girls, check. Not so pretty girls, check. Rich girl, check. Poor girl, check. Perfect-bodied girl, check. Curvaceous girl, check. High achiever girl, check. Sit-on-her-ass-everyday girl, check. Girl with attitude, check. Girl with attitude of a wild hyena, check. All in-betweens, check.

Maybe that’s why now I can sit back, relaxed, peering lazily to things passing by. Not that I’m stating that being single is better than committed, but I guess whatever relationship status you’re in now, make sure it’s something of your choice. As in my case now, I’m currently enjoying each and every minute of being not needed to please anyone beyond my level of comfort. It feels… airy. It feels light. My bearable lightness of being.

I realize I will not be in this state of life for good. I might be in a relationship tomorrow. I might be out of a relationship the day after. But no matter, I know I will be as grateful.

Along the way, sometimes all we need is a moment to have breaks. To kiss the flowers, to say hello to sunshine. Then we can set off again, all refreshed, prettier, and shinier.

Root

Last night I watched this comedy show in Trans TV, an Indonesian local station. This show is called Extravaganza, and it mostly is funny. There was this segment, a parody on Indonesian traditional singers called Sinden. One of the guest stars was this Caucasian girl, dressing in a traditional clothing called Kebaya from one of Indonesian ethnic groups, Javanese. And amazingly, this Caucasian girl behaved exactly like a Javanese girl, talked like a Javanese girl, and even sang Javanese song in just perfect Javanese accent. People were amazed and cheered.

I was too amazed and cheered. But then my cheers stopped in mid air. Then I walked rather unconsciously to a mirror. Then staring at my own reflection. I looked at, unmistakably, a Javanese girl. The black mid-size eyes, the mid-size nose, the cheekbone, the eyebrows, the brownish skin. And then why there are not any Javanese word in my mind? Why when people talk to me in Javanese, although I generally understand, I just smile weakly then speak in Bahasa, telling them that I don’t speak Javanese?

Many conveyed that tradition, including the traditional language, is so last century. If you want to keep up with the today’s world, then popular culture it is. Which in my case, it is Western. I adopt the language, food, lifestyle, even to some extent, way of thinking. Which is not completely wrong, because many are indeed good. I was raised in a multicultural surroundings and indeed was prepared to be the citizen of the world. But I feel like nudged by that Caucasian girl in the comedy show. That wherever edge of this world I had gone to, whatever gazillion things I had done, whoever all kind of people I had met, I am, every drop of my blood, every tidbit of my bones, every breath, is an Indonesian girl, from the ethnic group of Javanese.

Speaking of my ethnicity, if you’re familiar with Indonesian people ethnicity, you can’t mistake me that I, by large, by far, is Javanese. And it is this very typical Javanese look, so if you say I look like someone, you will be the 17,821st person who said it to me, hahaha. But then, there this funny thing about it. It is that whenever I travel abroad, people who make a pass on me is, almost every time, Blacks or Indians. Well can’t blame me for looking like Aishwarya Rai or Beyonce… or Rihanna… hahaha…

But I digress. The thing is, there’s this calling inside me to start digging and getting in touch with my root. Of the long line of people descended their blood to me. To understand the language, the tradition, the culture, the music, the way of life, the way of thinking. I believe there are many ingenious acumen, old but wise way to do stuff, which will be still applicable even for today. It will be like I seek advice from this great people, my predecessor, whose wisdom endures time.

It will be an exciting journey.

Shunning Bali

Like or not, some people can really matter for us. They may be long gone from your life, yet the memory on them lingers still. Though you may not dwell on it, but somehow it always finds a way to creep into your mind again. And like my friend says, reminiscence is a bitch.

I always shun Bali since the breaking up of one of my most noteworthy romantic relationship. Yes it took place, mostly, in Bali. It took place among its beaches, flowers, and sunshine. When it ended, it was not only between me and my girlfriend, it was also between me and Bali. I refused and passed all the offers and temptation to go there since. Once I couldn’t say no, but I managed to make it really short and diminutive.

And now, three years after, I finally can’t run any longer from Bali. It calls me loud and clear. First it was scheduled for a three days business trip, but then it stretches to four, five, six, and then seven days. It was not easy, I tell you. It was a battle. Work really help to shut my mind, but when the night came the ghosts of the past come and dance. On the fifth night I almost gave in and just in the brink of calling my ex to see me, but my angels, my buddies came to my rescue and dragged me back from doing that abysmal mistake.

In just a few more hours I’ll be flying away from Bali. In just a few more hours I’ll grab my victory. Over nights of moments of weakness, over sentimental impulsive acts, over the little, foolish person I was.

I am a different person now. And whenever Bali calls me, I’ll stand up firm, pack my stuff and off I go!

There’s Only One Andrian

I am blessed with a Godsend best friend in this unlikely surrounding called office. Andrian is smart, funny, positive. He sticks around through thick and thin. We sometimes argue but none of us dwells on any of it. We’re really cool together, not anyone can match our sassiness, hahaha.

Then there’s Hallie. She’s smart, funny, positive. She sticks around through thick and sometimes, thin. We sometimes argue and we do dwell on every of it. We’re cool together, but it withers under pile of things to do. I was thinking that she can be my another true joy of friendship in this unlikely surrounding called office, but now I choose not to take that proposition too seriously.

I guess I have to live it that there will only be one Andrian. Well it’s more than enough :)

“Come here you hairy one!” *me chasing a running-for-your-life 3-month-unshaven laughing Andrian

How a Bag Makes a Woman

I never get this frenzy that people, or to be more specific, women, have on bags. Women can spend a ridiculous amount of money for a trendy designer bag. Being a truly practical person, I do never get it. It’s just a bag, it can’t call, it can’t take picture, it can’t take you’re here and there in a ride, it can’t kiss you goodnight and cuddles you warm and tight, so why bother spend millions of rups for one?

But just a couple days ago I suddenly so crystal-clearly understand. See, my office was just giving away perks for our last year performance, and one of them was this notebook bag for everyone. People could choose and the budget was good. So I choose this branded, cute burgundy girly backpack, it’s carefully crafted, and looks expensive. I was so happy having it, and yes, suddenly I see, how a fine bag makes a woman. It’s your extended self, it boosts your confidence, it breaks you from the clutter. In short: it completes you. I even never regard a girlfriend that much, that it completes you, hahaha.

So here I am, running jovially toward this bag-frenzy-girls, waving my hands happily, “I’m in I’m in I’m in, girls! Wait for me!!”

:)

Captivated

It’s been quite some time since the last time I was really captivated. Many of them were situational, the feelings came from accessibility or moments together.

But now I am. Captivated. She’s even more of it because the lack of the accessibility and moments together.

Restrained by golden rules. Wonder if she knows.

I miss you. Can you hear that, babe? I miss you.

Girls of My Life... So Far

Let’s see… well maybe I do live in save haven. My parents are great, my brother is sweet, my home is warm. We are comfortable middle class, we are never short of basic needs and even can taste a bit of higher class frills without the common complexity of super-rich families. I come from the majority ethnic group, racism is never an issue. I’m minority in religion but so thankfully I live among these tolerant neighbors and friends. My childhood was immaculate, I did great at school, friends and teachers loved me. My teen years were colorful but generally exciting. My college years were great. And I’m undergoing a promising professional life now.

Therefore I would like to thank you, girls of my life. My exes and all of you who ever crossed path with me in the romantic side. Thank you for really put a balance to my life, put the bitterness intertwined with the sweetness. Thank you for teaching me how to cope with betrayal, loss, and ridicule. Thank you for pointing me my room of improvements. There were moments when I hated the challenging lesson of life you had given, but now I really realize how my every drop of tears does nothing but growing me to a better person each time.

If I can choose, I definitely want to pass this pain with the lesson. But learning process is always painful, it’s an investment of time, money, and peace of mind. I guess only through it I can really learn. About perseverance, faith, hope, and finally, love.

Therefore, again, thank you, girls, thank you. No sarcasm here, no irony. I’m humbly thanking you all. My personal growth was with you, all of it were treasuring for me.

Happy new year, wish you all love, wish you all happiness.

Story of a Clam

In a beautiful seabed by a secluded small tropical island, live these two clams. They are pearls clams, the type of clams who can produce pearls. They are talking to each other.

“Uh why don’t I feel good today, the inside of my body itches badly, like some sharp piece tearing me from inside,” says of the clam.
“Oh,” the other clam looks at her friend sympathetically. “It’s a grain of sand, it enters your body and nested in your softest inner part.”
“I don’t like it! It hurts me! How can I get rid of it?” cries the pained clam
“You can’t, it will stay with you for a very long time,” answered her friend.

The clam with the grain of sand inside her cries loudly. The sand really hurts her, it sits indeed in her softest inner part. Anything she does to expel it just makes it grazes deeper into her tissue. After a couple of days trying, she gives up. She learns, painfully, to try to accept the grain of sand inside her. She cries many nights for the pain it causes her. But after a while she surprised that she has grown used to it. It still there, she can feel it, but it hurts less and less. Until one morning she wakes up and realizes the grain of sand has become a part of her. And somehow the pain makes her stronger, she experiences other pains after the sand grain incident, but they don’t bother her too much anymore, she had experienced the toughest with the sand grain.

A couple of years later, the clam is pulled out of water. She’s opened, and they find a very beautiful pearl inside her. It’s big, shiny, and have the purest white. People are mesmerized by its beauty. They bring it to the king, and the king loves it so much, he decides to put it in his most honored regalia. And so the pearl becomes most regarded piece of jewel in the entire kingdom, and it is descended to generations of kings and queens for many many centuries. The clam herself gets as the same honor, she’s placed amongst the kingdom’s most treasured ornaments in the palace, where a lot of people present their honor to the clam which produce the most beautiful pearl.

The clam had pained yet endured and then ultimately rewarded for it. Sometimes when a grain of sand enter our softest part and pains us a lot, let’s try to endure and make the best of it. Sometimes it is necessary to pain, who knows, your grain of sand is on their way to become the most beautiful pearl inside you.

Let’s all think happy thoughts today! :)

Indonesia, Land of Contrast

This morning I was flabbergasted. I was reading on Indonesia’s prime national newspaper, in their stripping continuing story. First, it was a lesbian story. Second, today it articulated an explicit kissing act between women. It means it will be read by no less than three million Indonesians.

If you’re not familiar yet with Indonesian people psychographics, here’s a quick look. Indonesia is by far one of the countries with the most populated religion devotee and practitioners. Indonesian people are so into family, both nuclear and extended. Ethnic group bonding is also strong. People are timid, not expressive, and love to conform. For short, this is where traditional values are implemented at their best.

And then try to explain these events happened in Indonesia:

• Never a homosexual person hazed for his/her homosexuality
• When a homosexual couple walks holding hands, people politely try not to look, then only softly chuckling on them after the couple walks out of hearing distance
• Lesbian girls can go away with their public display affection since girls do over each other here, we Indonesian girls touch other girls a lot, with or without certain intentions
• Transvestites are regarded as good entertainer, their manner of speaking is copied as the cool people manner of speaking, their constant appearance in national TV comedy shows is highly in demand
• A lesbian story with overt women-to-women kissing act goes to three million pair of eyes to read and (so far) no one protest.

All I can say is, although we Indonesians are largely traditionalists, we tolerate oddities, as long as it is enjoyable to watch. Yeah we know how to have fun!

And with all these, as a lesbian, I can’t ask for more :)

99 Coins of Gold

Once upon a time, there was this very rich king. He was so rich he could buy anything under the sun. And he lived his life doing so, spending anything to his liking. Yet, he always felt he was still missing something. He often stared out the window, under his gold-and-diamond-made-of dome, just feeling empty inside. Then one the king saw one of his servant, the servant was doing some cleaning. He whistled and hummed so happily, his face was so elated. The king was intrigued, than asked the servant what made him looked so happily fulfilled. The servant answered,

"I have everything. I'm healthy, I have a very good job, I have enough money to bring home, I have a small but nice house, I have a beautiful wife who loves me, I have two wonderful daughters who love me as much. That's why I'm so happy".

The king was amused with the answer. Then the king went to see his chancellor. He said,

"One of my servants seems to be so very happy. I wonder what can make him loose the feeling."

His chancellor said, "Your majesty, tonight, put a sack filled with 99 pieces of gold coins in front of his house. Then tomorrow morning you will see his happiness fade away."

The king was bewildered, but his chancellor asked him to just do so. So the king followed the advice, and at night he put a sack filled with 99 pieces of gold coins in front of his servant house. Morning came, and the servant's family found the sack, and they were thrilled to found those glittering coins inside. Then they counted them. But soon they were shouting to each other,

"Hey where's one more coin? There must be 100 coins in it, why there are only 99 of them? Wife, where's the one coin?"

"I don't know, it must be you who lost it!"

"No I don't. Well woman, you must be the one who slipped it somewhere!"

"Well I didn't, it must be you, you're getting old and less aware, husband!"

"No I don't! It was you, all women are the same, incapable and useless! Maybe it's your two daughters who lost it!"

"We didn't loose it father! And don't speak to mom like that!"

"Why you two..."

And they were bickering and bickering bitterly all morning while arduously tried to find the one lost coin, to no avail. Then the servant had to go to the palace to work. And out of custom he did his chores with fuming face, no happy whistling and humming. The king noticed this and asked him,

"Why are you looking so unhappy today?"

"Your majesty," the servant sighed, "this morning I found a sack filled with gold coins in front of my house. It should be 100 pieces of them, but my stupid wife and daughter must loose one of them, so there were only 99 left. Uh you just can't trust women, they are sooo unreliable, lazy, and ..." and he went on nitpicking his family. The king listened to him, and suddenly he knew his question had been answered. The king went to see his chancellor. He said to him,

"Yes finally I know what caused this feeling like missing something, this constant emptiness in my heart. It was the attitude of being ungrateful of what I have, and busily searching for the things which are actually never meant for me. It's like my servant who busily searching for the nonexistent coin and abandoning other precious things he has, it is ripping all the joy that already inside him. So from now on I will be all grateful and enjoying everything I have, and stop worrying about things which actually never there, never meant for me."

Remember Me

Feels like a million years ago, don’t you think? The open wounds have closed, the bitter aftertaste long subsided. Now your color, our color, emerge just so slowly, into my eyelids again. Your blue sky, white and red hibiscus. White stripped planes, yellowish airport sign. Blackened night sea with its waves touching the shore. Dark blue, light blue, red mini SUV. Moss green bottle of olive liquid soap. Dark brown, brown, and the lightest brown of your eyes.

Stripping down my clothes of consciousness. This once, only this once, I surrender.

Remember me, Baby. Please remember me.