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Category Archives: Personal

In Silence, There is Forgiveness

In Silence, There is Forgiveness

It is never easy to forgive. It is never easy to apologize.

More often than we’d like to acknowledge , our pride gets in the way. Be it as a victim or as a doer, we find it hard to admit defeat.
It is in our nature to be wanting to stand above others. It is in our nature to be seen as being brave and strong.
But most of the time, we wish to be able to forgive. We wish to be able to apologize.
We can only say the wish to ourselves in whisper, in silence. The words we do not say, but we can only feel between mouth and heart.

The words that often culminate in the saying, “if only …”
As much as apologizing and forgiving do liberate oneself, it is never easy to commit. You can never hold grudge again. You can never go back.
But if it is only in silence you can, then you do.

No one and nothing shall get in between you and your apology. Not even air.

Nothing shall hold you back from forgiving. Not even air.
And those wanting to seek words of apology and forgiveness from others, look no further.
The silence does that.

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Posted by on 07/06/2016 in Personal

 

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Another Birthday Note Again

Another Birthday Note Again

If only we knew all along that getting older is fun. Especially if we realized many benefits that come with ageing. And until now, I still find it hard to believe.

One of those many benefits lies in forgiving. Or could it be ignorance?

Things that seem to bother us in the past, they do not seem to matter anymore at present time. Certainly not in the future.

Things that bug us so much until we lose sleep over them, they do not bug us anymore right now. Hopefully not in the future.

Things that disturb our peace in the past, we already make peace with them.

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As we grow older, we only grow kinder with time. We accept the fact that time has been kind to us. 

Time finally allows us to look back with smile, that whatever happened in the past, they only make us able to live well in the moment, at the present time. And that is the greatest gift our advancing age has ever taught us.

Heartbreaks will be forgotten, heartbreakers will be forgiven.

Love will be rekindled, repeated, or revealed in any ways to keep us alive.

On each birthday, we may not realize that we keep adding the list of things and people that we secretly forgive and forget, because the issues they used to bring, those do not matter anymore.

Thus, I look forward to birthdays.

Because you get to celebrate yourself in overcoming the odds.

Have a happy one.

 

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Posted by on 04/11/2016 in English, Personal

 

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How Do You Deal With Death?

The answer to the question in the title is probably the same as the opposite: how do you deal with living?
You don’t deal with it.
You just do. Read the rest of this entry »

 
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Posted by on 03/27/2016 in Blog, English, Personal, Uncategorized

 

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On a Cold Rainy Night

“Are you ready?”

“Ready?”

“This is how it goes …”

“Wait. Ready for what?”

“This. This is what will happen. We meet. Meet cute, maybe. But we meet. We exchange names. We invent nicknames for each other. We text each other every day. We look forward to each of our “morning” and “nitey nite” greetings. We make time to type those messages. We ask each other what we have for breakfast, lunch, dinner, supper, and all meals in between. We ask each other what we do, where we go, what we read, what we watch, what we listen to. Then we finally meet. We see eye to eye. Over lunch. Followed by coffee. Over dinner. Followed by movie. The first lunch. The first coffee. The first movie together. Then comes the night when we part. We have to part. We live in our own house. We say good night. In the next few hours, we say good morning. We make plans. We plan our getaway. Our holiday. We cannot get enough of each other. We are crazy about each other. We think of each other every time. We think of ways to seek help from each other. We think of ways to make each other feel needed and wanted. We try and try … Until we’re tired. We start getting bored of each other. We start questioning our decision to meet and like each other. We make excuses not to meet. We prioritise our work and other activities above each other. We start skipping the greetings. No more “morning” or “nitey nite”. We start asking each other, why you have not asked me things I do. Food I eat. Music I listen to. We take each other for granted. We take each other as a routine. Then strangers come to our lives. Strangers that tickle our excitement. Strangers who ask us the questions we used to ask to each other. Strangers we cannot get enough of. Strangers we wish to spend our time with, instead of being with each other. Strangers, that make us … strangers for each other.”

“Are you done?”

“I’m not. Because I want to ask you, if you’re ever ready …”

“I’m taken.”

“… ready to invite this stranger to try?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

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Posted by on 01/31/2016 in English, Personal

 

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You Say Goodbye To What You Love The Most

We do say goodbye to things we love the most, don’t we?

No matter how long we have been attached to things we love the most, eventually they’ll be taken away from us in one way or another … Right?

I am struggling to convince myself over the above statements today. I am struggling to believe that you only part with the physicality of things.
You never say goodbye to memories they bring.

Last night, my iPod Classic died. For good.
Attempts of resurrection showed no signs of success. At all.
Even if we could replace the hard disk inside the iPod with a new one, it’ll be a new, blank, clean, empty hard disk. The old dying one, that caused the hardware to stop functioning, cannot be brought back to life.

After 8 years, my companion is no longer able to accompany me anymore.

Yes.
This iPod of mine is a life companion.

Inside the 120gb disk space are not only songs, videos and photos accumulated over years. But more than that, those songs, videos and photos mark special milestones in my life.

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Songs are compiled into playlists for running, so I can endure the exercise.
Songs I listen to whenever I have a crush on someone, when relationships end, and when romance starts to blossoms, are compiled into playlists.
There are playlists for wedding of friends, relatives, rainy days, holidays, and sometimes moments I need to celebrate quietly.

I always brought my iPod wherever I go. Be it to office, to gym, traveling overseas, other cities in the country, there was always my iPod present. In short, it never left out of sight everyday in the past 8 years.

When you have something with you for considerable amount of time, your subconsciousness forms a sort of attachment. So I read somewhere.
I never understand that, until now.

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People have different ways to claim ownership or attach themselves over other people and things. Some form undying attention to their pets, others dot on their children. Some become too protective, some can be carefree.
I spent most of life on my own. The past 8 years saw a fair share of some romantic relationships, but for the largest bulk of time, I’m on my own. Thus, to fill the emptiness of dead air, I listen to music. I pay attention to them. My mind wanders as I press the button, click the wheel, put songs on shuffle, and let whatever songs played to fill the mood of the moment.
From what is a usual “press play” activity, it further develops as the extension of your feeling.

It may sound too much. That’s fine. After all, each one of us is wired differently.
When I lament the passing of this iPod to my friends, some immediately offer their consolation in understanding. Some went through the same. Some offer their confusion, to my absolute and definite understanding, as they don’t form similar attachment the way I do. And that’s fine by me.

After all, music speaks differently to each and everyone of us.

Soon enough, I’ll get a new portable music player. Or I may just get a new hard disk to be installed in the old iPod. I have not decided which route I’ll take.
Regardless, they mean the same thing. I may get majority of old songs and albums back, thanks to iTunes store and other outlets. I may be able to create similar playlists to the old ones.
But I never get the old memory back. I will never be able to recreate the exact mood while making the playlists.

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Consider this is goodbye. Consider this is a farewell letter to the past 8 years of my life as marked on songs of life.
I often smile in tears upon realizing how we mark moments in our life by songs. Songs we listen to while we think of someone with love. How we are angry at the same person weeks or months or years later. Songs we listen to when we graduate. Songs we listen to as we travel in foreign lands.

I used to be able just to switch on the old iPod, scroll through playlists to figure out the songs that mark those special moments. Now, I won’t be able to do that anymore. I may remember all of a sudden whenever I hear the same songs in mall, as I stroll along foreign lands I am yet to visit, or in any given occasions later.

I will remember, because memory never escapes and fails us.

We say goodbye to things.
But we will remember the historic memory they lovingly create.

Here’s to new memories ahead.

 
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Posted by on 01/05/2016 in English, Personal

 

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Something’s Missing

I miss falling in love.

I miss smiling as I am gazing.
I miss making playlist of songs, since every song is about our fantastical fantasy relationship.
I miss daydreaming, imagining and eventually thinking ahead of every possible scenario.

I miss falling in love.

I miss the joy out of living.
I miss the happiness it brings.
I miss the thrill it seeks.
I miss the anticipation out of unthinkable possibilities.

I miss falling in love.

I miss the beat of my heart that drums when you pass.
I miss the sigh of relief when you miss my glance.
I miss the whisper of my own wish when you stand in distance.
I miss the pray quietly uttered when you may or may not be there.
I miss the wetness of my eyes from too much smiling when you step in to my mind.

I miss falling in love.

I miss seeing your flaws as flawless.
I miss seeing your imperfection as perfection.
I miss seeing your scars as beauties.
I miss feeling your quietness loud.
I miss feeling your silence deafening.
I miss feeling your mere presence larger than life.

I miss falling in love.

Because I miss living life.

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Posted by on 09/06/2015 in Blog, English, Personal

 

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Happy 1st Anniversary, Linimasa!

Tomorrow, our communal blog linimasa.com will turn exactly one year old.

In this day and age, I cannot believe that I get to say such a cliche statement: “how time flies by”. But when it comes to this blog, time has indeed flown at such a rapid movement.

Linimasa came at the right moment. I was in the middle of some sort of self-healing. Then when the came offer, such a generous one, indeed, I immediately said “yes”. My initial reaction was that I got to have a habit of writing once a week. A routine, you may say. Something I had not had for a while then.

You see, I used to write a weekly review for a local paper. In English. I got to think hard what to write every Wednesday, because the deadline fell on every Thursday, before the writing got published on weekend. When I got the Thursday slot for linimasa, the almost similar routine stroke again: I got restless every Wednesday. Whenever possible, I tried to avoid going out, making out, and anything that required me to be out and about every Wednesday night, fearing the looming deadline.

You know how it is with blog: you are the writer, the editor, the designer, all rolled into one. Once you finish writing, you have to check any grammatical error or any mistakes in spelling. Then you insert links to anything on your writing that needs external URL source. After that, you choose appropriate image to insert on the writing. Sometimes, this takes up more time than the actual writing. You hit the ‘preview’ button to see how it looks. As I read the write-up on the preview mode, sometimes I spot an error or two, or more, then going back to the dashboard to edit again. Finally, we hit the ‘publish’ button.
And then we wait for the reaction. From readers, that is.

Linimasa.com marks my first regular writing in Indonesian. One of my friends wondered whether I could keep it up. As you can see right here, most of my personal blog posts are written in my unbelievably broken English. I am writing faster in English, indeed, especially to convey personal opinions and thoughts. But Linimasa.com gave me the opportunity to learn the joy of writing to your nearby neighbours, friends, colleagues, and everyone within immediate “reach”.

After all, what made me nod to Linimasa is not only the opportunity to write regularly in Indonesian again, but also to learn. When Roy asked me, he mentioned the other writers who had agreed to participate. I have been more than familiar with Gandrasta and Glenn in terms of their works. I also read a few of Roy’s writings, and so did Fa’s and Dragono’s. The only one I was not familiar with yet at that time was Agun. Of course, it soon changed for the better.

As you also know, Agun writes about music, film, and pop culture very smoothly and easily while throwing in facts he meticulously gathers. And who would’ve thought that Roy is the dreamer of all? Glenn acutely observes the society we live in now. His writing tickles.
From Gandrasta, I learn how to grab attention in your writing from the get-go to the end. He never fails.
Then Dragono comes with deep thinking in his writing, almost to Zen-like effect. Most of the time, I feel terrified writing after him, since I got the Thursday slot after his Wednesday.
Then the women of Friday, Fa and Leila. Farah (or Fa) came with a bang, typical of playful young woman in her 20s who likes to explore variety of things with winking observation. When she steps down, her replacement, Leila, is exactly the opposite. A young woman in her 40s who already know what she wants, and this is reflected in her writing. Read Lei’s writings, you will find many tactical, practical tips that clearly show how the writer has experienced and gone through it all.

And a year on, I have proved to what I told the same friend who asked about the idea of Linimasa: that I get to be standing on the shoulders of the giants, and learn from them.
To date, I still read old posts from months ago written by the other writers. Perhaps you also do the same when you click on an article, and then further click on another once you finished reading one. Sometimes I chuckle, most of the time I smile reading the old posts and comments.

As Roy often points out, I don’t think we set ourselves to be a hard hitting journalism. It is, after all, a blog. Maybe in his words he’d like to point out that what we do is a sensational public display of masturbation, but I’d like to think that we just share what we feel like sharing, because we never take ourselves seriously in the first place. We write what we want to write. Sometimes I don’t know what to write in the eleventh hour, sometimes I have no idea at all. I often dig through past writings, and modify them a little to publish in Linimasa. Sometimes I just take a quote and elaborate any possible words I can think out of it. Sometimes I am just hopelessly in mercy of whatever gets me to the day. And that one happens very, very often.

I came across a saying once that goes something like “writing sets one free”. I could not be more grateful for the past 52 weeks that I never fail to show up every Thursday, and be able to present my rambling for that particular week. To date, as I am writing this note, I am still amazed at myself to be able to carry on the routine. Every week, and I was never absent. Not once. I hardly commit to anything, but why is it actually possible to honour the commitment here?

Well, who knows?

We’ll just keep on writing.

Linimasa

Linimasa

Happy birthday. Thank you for putting me here, guys.

 
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Posted by on 08/23/2015 in Blog, English, Personal

 

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