This is the last posting for my web journal. This blog will not be updated anymore in the foreseeable future, so I'm going to get sentimental and reflective.

For over a year this is a place where I rant and rave about various things ranging from stupid computer problems to trivial things that had happened in my so ordinary life. This journal is an undeniable proof of my abusing office hours for personal purpose, but doing this has been a very rewarding experience.

Until I started a web journal, I thought the internet could be used to sustain established friendships and relationships, but couldn't possibly create new ones of any significant value. Well, I was wrong. Comments sparked by this site have put me in touch with some very good human beings and I hope to continue to connect with them.

My reason was a little bit too personal to mention. All I can say is that I need all the free time I can forage to rest, keep the damage to a minimum and try to get me through life with my sanity intact.

I'm not good at saying goodbye so, um.. see you, later, alligator.

I think I'm addicted to email. A morning without email for me is like a day without sunshine. It left me an awful empty feeling. I spend countless time in front of the computer staying in touch with friends and glued to my computer every waking moment just waiting for that next ding of my inbox .

Every time I hear that ding, I'd automatically reach for the mouse & checked my inbox so I wasn't able to focus on one task for very long before being alerted that another email was waiting just for me to read.

It's terrible. Pretty much usurped my office (and also non-office) hours. And it doesn't even sound glamorous. Internet porn, shopping or gambling addict will certainly be taken more seriously. but email addict??? i don't think so.

So,any idea of how to overcome this addiction?

(but since I love receiving email and not yet free from my addiction, please feel free to email me. I would be more than happy to receive your email as long as it's not hate mail, ransom note or suicide note he..he..)

Just finished reading Dan brown's The Da Vinci code and quite understands just why this book raised so much controversy (I know, I am a year behind the world. To be honest, I have hardly read any published books recently :-P too busy doing god knows what).
The controversy is sure to emerge when someone offers an alternative to accepted history, especially when it comes to religion's history. .

Many have claimed that there are a lot of historical and theological inconsistencies in this book, such as the existence of organization called the Prieure de Sion, which is claimed to be a complete hoax assembled in the late 50s by Pierre Plantard (and not originated from the templars in 1099 as Brown said), and the depiction of Opus Dei, one of the chief villains in Brown's novel.

The way I see it, The Da Vinci code's "sin" is due to the note published by the author at the beginning of the book, in which he claimed: "All descriptions of artwork, architecture, documents, and secret rituals in this novel are accurate". It gives us impression that the novel we read is a non-fiction story and blurring the tenuous distinctions between fact and fiction. Thus, the author might be seen untrustworthy and the readers would simply doubt the writer's credibility.

But for me, it is a fun-to-read novel even though the facts in The Da Vinci Code themselves may not be entirely accurate. It is good for what it's meant to be: an entertaining fiction novel. Add conspiracy theory, secret fanatical religious sects and brain-teasing adventure, and you've got me.

Besides, I always thought that non-fiction (even though it involved real person or even some real fact) is based on personal perspective so it can be biased and not necessarily portraying fact.

I talked to my lil bro about my nightmares and he brought a dreadfully insightful point of view:

An evil spirit wants me dead, or

I was trying to escape from something, such as a constant dispute with a friend/relative/co-worker

And the easiest and most effective way to put an end to these nightmares:

find someone I loathe, then hunt down and stone him/her to death.


Ha! Thanks for making me feel like a potential murderer.

I've had many nightmares these past coupla days. The most horrendous nightmares which are so incredibly way out that I think my brain must be in such a mess. I think the dreams are even more frightening and stranger than anything Dario Argento could begin to imagine.

I am always worried and anxious in all of these dreams. One vaguely involved dead persons; another was an almost childish nightmare, in which my collective fears took the shape of large, nebulous but very scary living things; and the other involved clowns. Yep, you're right. I really, really hate clowns. The fact that they like to get right up in your face - they give me the creeps! There's nothing funny or nice about clowns. I believe that clowns' duties are to frighten children and to instill fear in them that will inhibit their social development and make their transitions into adulthood all the more uncomfortable.

Back to my nightmares, my friend said I probably watch too much horror movies. Funny, cause I don't think it's all because of horror movies. I have never had nightmares after watching them. I love horror movies and when it comes to movies, I really don't scare that easily. As a child this type of movies horrified me, but I couldn't stop watching them. Not many types of movies throughout my life have given me more pleasure than horror films. I mean hey, what could be more entertaining than watching a girl being chased by a maniac carrying a chainsaw or kitchen knife, or watching dolls came to life and either killed people or made them into dolls themselves ? :-)

I've watched from the classics to the crappy movies. From the intelligent, extremely artistic horror movies to the really crappy movies with bad actors and completely stupid story line (a PWP rating [plot, what plot] movies) that you would think whoever made the movies should be in prison for life because the movies would induce permanent brain damage.
Well most of those movies are pretty bad but for some reasons I love them. You can really get a good laugh from horror movies. I honestly burst out laughing at quite a few "scary" scenes in those movies. Truthfully speaking, most of them are more moronic than demonic.

So, what is the reason for my bad dreams then? Could it be that my brain spends every night trying to get back into some sort of reasonable working order after hard days worrying? I sure hope so. At the very least, the explanation's much, much better than Freud's theory:
Nightmares were "an expression of immoral, incestuous and perverse impulses or of murderous and sadistic lusts".
Whoa, now that is scary!!!

I like to think that, when it comes to books, I'm pretty open-minded. I read everything my hands could grab. My favorite writers range from Kurt Vonnegut to Yukio Mishima to Arundhati Roy to Carl Sagan to Jostein Gaarder to Gosho Aoyama to Ayu Utami to SGA to Ayn Rand to Jack Kerouac to Edward Said to Stephen King.
Pretty much the only genre of book I can hardly tolerate is self-help books.

No, I didn't hate them. Hate is too strong a term. Let's just say I'm not a fan of these books.
The trouble is when I said I didn't like the books, people stare at me like I'm an agent of darkness working under the supervision of Lestat the Vampires. I'm not making this up. My friend, a big fan of Stephen Covey once asked me if I'd read "Seven Habits Of Highly Effective People", and when I said I'd read it but I didn't like it, he looked at me the way most people look at crazy person: the I-know-something-must-be-going-on-inside-that-brain-but-i-have-no-idea- what-it-could-possibly-be look.

I have read three or four of self-help books and I did promise myself I would try to offer a few positive words about each one, but that was before I read them. After I read them, I realized that those cheery self-help books that are supposed to win me friends; lead me to inner peace; reach out to people; don't respond to apathy or anger; make me rich; consuming every how-to in sight in order to achieve happiness in life or love; love my neighbor; eat more fresh vegetables; do more exercise blah blah blah would not fix me.

Some people might find Self-help books are excellent tools for self-discovery, or find it a good method to attain 'perfection' in life but I myself think my constant roller coaster of anxiety or confusion is too complex to be fixed by the generic, one-size-fits-all solutions offered by self-help books.

Not to say that I'm so special I can't distill a single lesson from the book, it's just I didn't find them helpful. It's not my type of reading and always leaving me with two big questions:
"Why are you telling me all this?"
and of course
"Why in the world am I reading all this?"

After a series of unfortunate incidents this morning, I declare myself as a firm believer in Murphy's law; If there is a worse time for something to go wrong, it will happen then.

And the more you rush, the later you will be

Today I had an appointment with a friend at 8.00 a.m. You guessed it, I was an hour late. I'm basically a punctual person. I hate being late and always thought that habitual lateness is rude so I feel both guilty and embarrassed for making my friend waiting an extra hour.

Murphy's law is probably not a good perspective to live by, but as we all knew, things go wrong at the most annoying moment:

I overslept this morning. A stupid cat climbed up the roof above the bedroom and woke me up at 2 a.m with blood curdling howls. When it went silent, it took me so long to fall back asleep. In addition, my normal alarm clock didn't work somehow.

My breakfast, that beautiful toast, landed successfully on the floor with strawberry jam-side down. Goodbye, breakfast!

I had to wait for a taxi for almost an hour because most of them were full. When I finally got one, the taxi driver is a Norman Bates -type guy who turned left when I said he had to turn right, turned right when I said he had to turn left, and then went straight to jalan Margonda albeit a few minutes earlier I clearly said: "Nanti ambil kanan, masuk ke UI, jangan ke Margonda".

And of course, there is always traffic jam or slow driver in front of you when you are late for an appointment!

Upon reading Affi's second date theory , I remember my own "date from hell" experience. Okay, I'm adding a little drama here; this wasn't exactly a dating "horror" story per se... but this one was far from being a dream date.

It happened about a year ago. I hadn't been seeing anyone at all that year and I hadn't really thought much about dating someone until a friend of mine set me up with his friend.

I talked to this guy for several weeks before actually meeting him in person. We decided to meet for drinks to see if we would ignite any sparks, because the phone conversations were always very nice.

Anyway, we finally met and he was a nice person, I guessed. But nothing matched at all... interests didn't really match, personalities didn't match, sense of humor certainly didn't match. Finally we ate in an uncomfortable eternity of silence. The menus became the center of attention, well at least on my side. Never before in my life did I pay so much attention to my food.

In short, I had more fun watching Musashi and Sasaki's duel than sitting there with that strange fellow in a no hold-barred cataclysmic extravaganza called date. Mind you, I'm not talking about the famous duel between Miyamoto Musashi and Sasaki Kojiro on Ganryu Island. I'm talking about the duel of their alter ego, AKA Musashi and Sasaki rabbit, my pet. They fight over carrots about ..hmm.. 20 times a day.

So, the moral to this story is that if you are single, chances are you will have a date from hell. It's just part of dating jungle out there. You're going to meet some pretty strange men in a date that already seem eternal just moments after they've begun, the kind of date that make you swear you'd rather spend every Saturday night of your lifetime watching 40th rerun of Teletubbies with your nephew than meeting someone for a date again.

I don't understand why some people become angry when they hear an opinion that differs from their own. The world is full of billions of people who have different opinions about various topics. It is absolutely impossible for everyone to have the same opinion about everything, rite?

I think disagreements and difference of opinions are not bad things. We should open our eyes; question everything which is presented to us instead of automatically believing it like a sheep follows the rest of the herd unquestionably.

I browsed the net last night and found a perfect example of how people developed insights from their own inner wisdom, not from what someone else has experienced, or what they are told they should believe.

Reason and logic are tools with which to describe, understand, and predict our lives.
And here are reasons and logic behind the act of the chicken crossing the road, sort of:

KINDERGARTEN TEACHER: To get to the other side.

BUDDHA: Asking this question denies your own chicken nature.

PLATO: For the greater good.

ARISTOTLE: It is the nature of chickens to cross roads.

EPICURUS: For fun

HIPPOCRATES: Because of an excess of phlegm in its pancreas.

MACHIAVELLI: The point is that the chicken crossed the road. Who cares why? The end of crossing the road justifies whatever motive there was.

RENE DESCARTES: Since the chicken does not really exist it was only an illusion that the chicken crossed the road. This illusion was only in my mind. Therefore I created the chicken that crossed the road.

VOLTAIRE: I may not agree with what the chicken did, but I will defend to the death its right to do it.

ALBERT CAMUS: It doesn't matter; the chicken's actions have no meaning except to him.

DARWIN: Chickens, over great periods of time, have been naturally selected in such a way that they are now genetically disposed to cross roads.

KARL MARX: It was a historical inevitability.

JOSEPH STALIN: I don't care. Catch it. I need its eggs to make my omelette.

FREUD: The fact that you are at all concerned that the chicken crossed the road reveals your underlying sexual insecurity.

EINSTEIN: Whether the chicken crossed the road or the road moved beneath the chicken depends upon your frame of reference.

THOMAS DE TORQUEMADA: Give me ten minutes with the chicken and I'll find out.

SHAKESPEARE: To cross or not to cross, that is the question.

RALPH WALDO EMERSON: The chicken did not cross the road .. it transcended it.

ERNEST HEMINGWAY: To die. In the rain. alone.

JACQUES DERRIDA: Any number of contending discourses may be discovered within the act of the chicken crossing the road, and each interpretation is equally valid as the authorial intent can never be discerned, because structuralism is DEAD, DAMMIT, DEAD!

LOUIS FARRAKHAN: The road, you see, represents the black man. The chicken 'crossed' the black man in order to trample him and keep him down.

MARTIN LUTHER KING, JR.: I envision a world where all chickens will be free to cross roads without having their motives called into question.

OLIVER STONE: The question is not, "Why did the chicken cross the road?" Rather, it is, "Who was crossing the road at the same time, whom we overlooked in our haste to observe the chicken crossing?"

MICHAEL SCHUMACHER: It was an instinctive manouvre, the chicken obviously didn't see the road until he had already started to cross.

HILLARY CLINTON: It was part of a vast right-wing conspiracy against my husband.

BILL CLINTON: The chicken did NOT cross the road. Not a single time. Never. (It was a boulevard.)

BILL GATES: I have just released the new Chicken Office 2000, which will not only cross roads, but will lay eggs, file your important documents, and balance your chequebook.

FOX MULDER: You saw it cross the road with your own eyes. How many more chickens have to cross the road before you believe it?

RICHARD M. NIXON: The chicken did not cross the road. I repeat, the chicken did NOT cross the road.

GEORGE BUSH: We don't really care why the chicken crossed the road. We just want to know if the chicken is on our side of the road or not. The chicken is either with us or it is against us. There is no middle ground here.

COLONEL SANDERS: I missed one?



Freedom of thought is also highly entertaining, eh?

We want to live forever, but realize what a bore it would be. We want adventure but not at the expense of safety. We want to be with people, but find them annoying. *grin*

Why is it we are never satisfied with whatever we have or get? Why do we want to get higher and achieve even more? Why don't we ever feel satisfied, even after numerous efforts on our side? Why can't we feel good about ourselves though we know we have done our best and will continue to strive harder?

I wish somehow someday I'll get fed up with wanting, and want nothing. I want to want nothing.

I remember the story of Diogenes, who owned nothing but a cloak, a stick, and a bread bag and yet feel satisfied with his life because he had everything he desired. When Alexander the great asked if there was anything he could do for him, "Yes," Diogenes replied. "Stand to one side. You're blocking the sun".Cool, but I'm sure I can't be part of him. If Alexander the great stood opposite me and asked if there was anything he could do for me, was there anything I desired, the conversation might turn out this way:

Me: "Yes, stand to one side. You're blocking the sun."
Alexander: "That's it? Is that all you want?"
Me: "I think so"
Alexander: "Are you sure? Don't you want material luxury?"
Me: "No. "
Alexander: "Political power?"
Me: "No"
Alexander: "Brad Pitt?"
Me: "No." *a bit hesitate*
Alexander: "Keanu Reeves?"
Me: "Um...tell me.. Is he anywhere around?"
Alexander: " Yes, he's here now."
Me: "Then yes, definitely yes. And one more thing, I know it sounds silly but I have a knight in shining armor syndrome..."
Alexander: "So you want him to ride a white horse?"
Me: "Not exactly, I'm not very fond of horses. Could you make him ride a white limo instead?"

So much for the abstinence. Diogenes will definitely despise me.

You know what I really, really want right now?

One thing that will make my day, and make me feel really, really happy; The sun-is-shining-on-my-face-the-birds-are-singing-butterfly-is-flying-around-and-I-can-see-a rainbow-in-the-sky kind of happiness?

And I feel not just excitement, but a sense of being comfortable, of being safe, of being in the presence of something so important and so special?

A new printer.

A friendly, non-misogynic printer.

The one I have, this vicious printer, is always jamming and taking a pad of paper and not one at a time. Not only that, every time I tried to remove the jammed paper, this damn printer shocked me. The voltage is not strong enough to kill me, but strong enough to make me want to throw it out of the window and jump around on it screaming like a maniac.

I'm actually waiting for the day to wake up in the middle of the night with printers surrounding my bed, holding knives, just to torment me a bit more.

That's the horror of printer and printing...

Someone out there, please help me. Make this printer hell closer to printer heaven.
And you, printer, please behave!

Warning! Do not read this while eating.


I may have a low food standard, but testicles…???

How come this man thinks eating testicles of animal is a gesture of respect? Is he experimenting with mind altering drugs? I agree that we should avoid wasting foods but I wouldn't let this kind of food get into my shopping bag, let alone eat it.

First, It against my basic principles of eating: 1. I don't eat anything I don't know what it is, and 2. If I know what it is, but it's gross, I'm not going to eat it (this includes brains, testicles, intestines etc).

Second, If want to pay my respect to animal, I'll do it in a different manner.
And third, I think the lamb would be happier if we just let his testicles untouched. Eating testicles is a privacy violation...um literally. Don't you agree?

Have you ever had one of those rare feelings when you feel the need to be happy? I've been in such state for the past week that I have been barely functional.

To tell you the truth, this is not the best feeling in the world. It made me think that happiness is overrated. People need to feel like they are happy to be fulfilled, to feel like have achieved something. In many instances it is true, but searching and risking things for that jackpot called happiness really wears me out.

I guess this is what happened when you were bound by the shackles of your wanting: you became discontented and unhappy. Ugh, I hate to think that I am an unhappy person because for the most part I am not unhappy (I didn't say I am usually happy; the double negative doesn't mean the opposite of the negative adjective *bingung*)

I just wish that this is a normal feeling for people in their twenties, you know, mired in the cliched twentysomething wail: "what does it all mean?" The more you try to find meaning, the more you run into confusion, and hence the crisis.

(I can't believe I use the word crisis…. it's morbid)

Please, please tell me that this is normal and I don’t need to see a therapist: P

You know how one song makes you crazy?
It endears your ears with the beats that you just had to love. It speaks to you with the tones that hang mysteriously in the air somewhere between serenity and sadness.
Infectious.
You became round the bend with it; like an alcoholic who feels compelled to drink, like smokers who cannot give up, like impassioned lover who feels that he'll die without his beloved.

that old feeling...

"Mau sampai kapan, ne? udah, lah..."

Telfon dari teman lama selalu menyenangkan. Senang rasanya ketika tahu bahwa kita masih punya arti buat orang lain, biarpun tahun-tahun yang sudah berlalu itu rasanya sama jauhnya seperti jarak dari pluto ke matahari.

Apa kita pernah benar-benar hidup di sana?
Anak-anak berseragam putih biru itu sudah dewasa sekarang.


....
"Emir sekarang di Bekasi, ne. udah pindah rumah dua bulan lalu"
"Oh ya, rumah sendiri? kereenn."
"Ngga juga. rumahnya kecil, kok."
"ya ngga apa-apa. bagus, deh."
"Si Taufan balik lagi ke Jepang. Udah tau?"
"Udah, dia nelfon sebelum berangkat tapi ngga sempat ketemu."
"Sama. eh, kemaren nemu kaset Axis di loakan."
"Jimi Hendrix?"
"Iya, yang ada little wing-nya. sama kayak punya si Ari dulu."
"..."
"ne, kenapa...?"
"Ngga, ngga apa-apa."
"Ari..?"
"..."
Mau sampai kapan, ne? udah, lah..."




(ya,sampai kapan kita boleh bersedih atas kematian seseorang? setahun? dua tahun? masih bolehkah merasa sedih tanpa disebut cengeng, tanpa disebut menggugat tuhan, tanpa disebut sentimentil dan tanpa disebut mengasihani diri?)

"Udah,lah ne...Ari pasti ngerti, kok..."

Benarkah? Bisakah Ari memaafkan saya karena percakapan terakhir kami adalah pertengkaran? Karena terakhir kali kami bicara adalah 8 bulan sebelum dia meninggal karena saya terlalu marah; karena dia lagi-lagi masuk rumah sakit gara-gara obat-obatan sialan itu, karena dia bohong ketika dia bilang sudah berhenti, karena dia menyia-nyiakan hidupnya?


Apa Ari tahu bahwa seminggu sebelum kematiannya, saya menemukan sebuah foto lama di laci? foto seorang anak berseragam putih biru, foto yang membuat saya rindu bicara dengannya. Foto yang membuat saya tiba-tiba rindu sapaan "hei, preman"; sapaan yang biasanya membuat saya jengkel setengah mati tapi saat itu sangat ingin saya dengar.
Saya ingin menelfon dan bilang bahwa saya tidak ingin persahabatan yang usianya separuh dari usia kami berantakan karena tidak ada yang mau mengalah. Saya ingin bilang bahwa saya tidak akan pernah mengerti ataupun setuju dengan cara hidupnya, tapi dia teman saya dan akan selalu begitu.

Ari tidak pernah tahu, karena saya tidak pernah menelfon, dan segalanya terlambat.

Saya tidak ingat lagi apa yang kemudian saya bicarakan dengan Emir di telfon tiga hari yang lalu itu. Di kepala saya hanya ada gambaran peristiwa di suatu sore bertahun tahun yang lalu, ketika saya habis bertengkar hebat dengan ayah.

"Preman, my little wing, nangis itu ngga menyelesaikan masalah. Ayo pulang...."

Saya tidak tahu apakah saya akan berhenti menangis....





When I'm sad, she comes to me
With a thousand smiles, she gives to me free
It's alright she says it's alright
Take anything you want from me, anything
Anything.

Fly on little wing...

(Little wing, Hendrix)

Just found out that Otty also has a bad sleeping habit. Sama dong, ty. By nature, I sleep lightly. People normally sleep at least six to nine hours per night but I only sleep four to five hours. Of course this is much less than the body requires. I once read that chronic sleep deprivation can cause a variety of physical and psychological problems. At its most basic level, loss of sleep can make people more irritable, less efficient to recall events, and more accident-prone. Bingo! The mystery has been solved! My crankiness and lethargy are due to my, ahem, sleep deprived.

This morning I had trouble waking up since I only slept for 3 hours. I can barely keep my eyes open so I guess I have every right to drink another cup of coffee. (And oh, the article also mentioned that anyone who is experiencing the symptoms of sleep debt should avoid caffeine. Talk about vicious circle!)

Sadly, after the second cup I still look like a zombie (and a highly caffeinated one). Ugh!

I don't know about most people, but writing seems like a bad thing to me. Like maybe I should be coloring in crayon or something instead of writing sarcastic thoughts on this journal, the thing is I love Irony.I wouldn't be able to speak at all, since I have a bad habit of speaking irony and sarcasm whenever I open my mouth. Pathetic, eh? I've tried to break the habit: I really have. Every once in a while there will be a perfect opportunity and I'll think, "No, I really shouldn't say anything." But oh, bad habits die hard, plus, there are always ironic situations in life and we have no choice but to laugh at ourselves and others.
Gosh, the psychology of the problem is enough to make a psychiatrist screams and play dead!

I just finished reading Nick Hornby's "how to be good" and found it highly entertaining. I couldn't stop laughing. This is a story which looks at the subject of being a good person. The story revolves around Katie and David Carr, a couple on the brink of divorce.
The narrator is Katie, a 40-year-old GP and mother of two children.She is unhappy with her husband David, an angry and cynical man and she spends all of her time wishing that he would change but to no avail. Everything's change when David undergoes a metamorphosis after he meets DJ GoodNews, a guru/faith healer. This meeting turns David into someone who tries to see the good in everything via various selfless but annoying gestures, such as inviting homeless people to live in his spare room and donates his children's toys and computers. The changing doesn't make Katie happy either, but can she criticize someone for being too good? Does that make her bad?

It leads to the most abstract of all questions: What does it take to be a good human being? What has value? What are our obligations? What it means to be fully human?

Those are questions we often ask ourselves. The novel offers no answers but it's truthful, realistic and hilarious so I would say this novel is a must-read.

Puji's friend said that the whole weblog thing is masturbation. A rather impertinent comment, but perhaps not entirely wrong in a sense that both are agent of self-gratification and involving a couple of fingers. But I personally think that blogging is a healthy way to explore myself. If one thinks that bloggers are all itchy gitchy ya ya da da with themselves, well to be frank, I don't really give a damn. Paraphrasing Allen, masturbation is sex with someone you love. And we *do* have to love ourselves, don't we?

I just watched a talk show about metrosexual in Metro TV & find this whole "metrosexual" thing kind of creepy.

Is this a perfect example of subculture going mainstream?

Sure, I love it when a man smells good or wearing suits and shoes that match, but lipstick, pedicures or nail polish? Ew!!

Call me crazy but I don't want a man who's like "Honey, you should change your perfume. Clinique Happy is outdated. And did you know, Maybelline just launch a series of perfect-colored lipstick? the color is soo cool. And oh, I ran out my pink nail polish, can I use yours?"
OH MY GOD!!!

If some men want to toss the traditional stereotypes out the window and get in touch with their softer-feminine side, why don't they try more decent female traits, say, nurturance,compassion, tenderness, sensitivity? At least they'd be helping us out.

There is nothing wrong with a man who is well-dress and well-groomed, but it's unappealing when taken to the extreme. I sure don't want a man who spends so much time in front of the mirror and into name brands and fancy clothes. I love a good old-fashioned manly-man. A modest, straight male whose Y-chromosome is still intact.

Do you think Ine is a metrophobic?

Poppy's comment on my last posting:

free yourself,
kesedihan adalah seperti sekarung arang di pundak mu, yang perlu dipertanyakan kenapa kita harus tetap membawanya kesana kemari?


Kenapa ya? Mungkin karena manusia perlu merasakan kesedihan untuk tahu bahwa dia masih hidup.Mungkin karena kebanyakan manusia adalah masokhis yg merasakan kenikmatan ketika merasakan kesedihan. Atau mungkin juga karena alasan yang sangat sederhana: manusia perlu merasakan kesedihan untuk bisa menghargai kebahagiaan.

Semua alasan itu sama sekali tidak ada yang logis. Tapi kalau bicara soal perasaan, apakah logika bisa diandalkan? Sometimes yes, but most of the times, no.

Eventually we just have to accept the fact that our heart is not so smart, even If each of us are operating with fully functional brains, with the complete control over our autonomic nervous system and with all the capacities of any genius.

(atau mungkin juga karena sekarung arang itu tidak bisa dititipkan kemana-mana, jadi harus dibawa kesana kemari?)


I'm curious,
This mysterious Poppy flower -- who seems to have some kind of a fetish for opium -- Is she a blogger or a drug dealer? ^_^

Buat Puji, yang akan segera meninggalkan Jakarta karena Jakarta yang panas, pengap, dan macet sudah tidak menarik lagi untuk ditinggali. Yogya tercinta sudah menunggu. Yogya yang tidak pernah terburu-buru, Yogya yang tenang. Yogya yang tidak menawarkan sensasi, tapi buat seorang Puji sangat berarti.
(di kota dimana waktu seperti berhenti, hidup rasanya lebih berarti ya, ji?)


Dearest Puji,
cerita klise tentang pertemuan-perpisahan ternyata milik semua orang, termasuk kita.

Berapa tahun kita kenal, ji? almost 8 years. sudah banyak yang kita lewati. some are good, some are not so good. tapi tidak pernah ada yang begitu buruknya sampai kita tidak mau mengingat itu semua;
makan di kansas, duduk di bawah pohon depan perpustakaan, pulang kuliah lewat jalan yg sama tiap hari: kopma-gedung 2-parkiran-hutan-kober, nonton Rendra & Iwan Fals di teater kolam, nonton teater , nonton filmnya Akira kurosawa di PPHUI, nonton konser Level 42,TOTO, nonton JGTC (and mocking Bjah The Fly mercilessly), pergi ke pameran buku di senayan, and our favorite past times: nongkrong di perpus sastra sampai sore. kadang baca buku, kadang cuma ngobrol tentang hal-hal remeh yang tidak berarti.
8 x 365 hari ternyata waktu yang pendek, ya?! (yep, time flies - whether we are having fun or not)


I'm gonna miss you, ji. a lot. Remember when I said I like cats better than humans? I change my mind now. I like you better. Cats are cute, undemanding and loyal as long as you feed them, but you're also cute, undemanding, understanding, and loyal (plus, I dont have to feed you hehehe).
In fact, I like you so much if I were a man, I would want someone like you to be my soulmate. You have qualities we humans always look for in another person. Puji yang penuh toleransi, yang ngga pernah nge-judge orang dengan sadisnya (like i do), yang ngga pernah protes dengan keanehan-keanehannya Ine, puji yang punya segudang pengertian tentang keterbatasan manusia dan tidak pernah meminta banyak dari orang lain.　(Andie is one helluva lucky guy, I think)

Of course you're not perfect. There are times when I think you're irritating (especially when you're panic-stricken) and insensitive (and I bet you feel the same way about me) but it never tainted all the good things that you possessed. After all, we all have flaws. Kalau Rendra kenal Puji, Rendra akan bilang: Puji tidak Immaculata, tapi menjadi mitos dalam kalbu semua orang.


Dearest Puji,
Yogya-Jakarta memang jauh. Tapi mudah-mudahan tidak cukup jauh sampai membuat seorang Puji lupa bahwa di suatu tempat di dunia ini ada orang bernama Ine (yang kata seorang temannya yg berinsial P adalah seorang loner), yang sering bersikap seolah tidak butuh orang lain padahal justru sebaliknya, who's always acting like she's tough when she's not, and badly needs her friends always.

Apa hari ini aku bisa meneleponmu, lalu bicara tentang hal-hal yang tidak penting;
hal-hal yang tidak menyumbang apapun kepada kemanusiaan, tidak berguna,
tidak membuat perubahan, dan hanya sekedar memberi tanda bahwa kita masih ada?

There's nothing I despise more than stupid songs; songs I hate so much that I can hardly bear to listen to the first few notes. Tata young's sexy naughty bitchy is definitely one of them. It actually fills me with near-rage feelings. It irritates me beyond belief. It's not enough that the music is sucks, the lyric annoys me even more; it's incredibly corny.
I'm no prude about sex, nor do I think it should be addressed only with euphemisms. But the thing is, she puts sexuality in its basest and most graphic terms. How revolutionary.
She attempts to be a sexually liberated woman but somehow she ends up sounding like a naughty schoolgirl. Intellectuality is dead. Speak to us like 12-year-olds, or we will not understand.

Ok, maybe it's not fair. I mean I know it's not my place to be the judge and jury of all female forms of self-expression. But the fact is the whole body image thing is superficial. Humans are also inherently superficial. Most people are almost always initially drawn to someone because of looks. It's not necessarily a bad thing but let's not forgets how misleading all informatives, like appearance, can be. Women who think that their value is determined only by their physical appearance should improve their self-esteem. The control we have over our own lives supposed to extend beyond physical appearance because physical things don't define what's within.
Have some pride, sister!



Ine does think she's judgmental sometimes.

According to researchers at Duke University , morning caffeine consumption can lead to increases in blood pressure, feelings of stress, and elevated stress hormone levels throughout the day and into the evening hours. Caffeine also potentiates the increases in blood pressure and heart rate that were associated with high levels of self-reported stress during the workday. The effects of caffeine persisted into the evening hours until bedtime.
(Seriously, It's not coffee that can stress me all day. It's the report)

As if it's not bad enough, report by The Center on Addiction and Substance Abuse also reveals that caffeine is a gateway drug. Girls and young women who drink coffee are significantly likelier than girls and young women who do not to be smokers...and drink alcohol."

So,
Should I stop my morning coffee ritual just because some researchers say it would turn me into either alcoholic or person with a poor mental health?
Let me think...
NO WAY!!!
Nothing is more important than my morning coffee. It calms me & makes me less grumpy. Besides, I'm just a habitual coffee drinker; I am not a coffee addict. AM NOT! AM NOT! AM NOT!

(One of the tell-tale traits of an addict is a refusal, disinclined to admit there is a serious problem...)

Depok, May 15, 2004



Setelah kamu pergi, hidup ini memang jadi tidak berwarna.
Semua berjalan seperti biasa, masih dengan alur yang sama dan dengan irama yang mudah untuk diduga, tapi sulit untuk bilang bahwa aku baik-baik saja ketika aku menjalani hidup cuma dengan mata separuh terbuka.

Seminggu yang lalu, aku lewat di jalan tempat kita pernah bertemu dulu. Percakapan kita waktu itu -- tentang cuaca, tentang masa kecil dan tentang dunia yang tidak kunjung jadi lebih baik -- terus melekat dalam ingatan seperti sel kanker yang menggerogoti otak; hidup, menyakiti dan membunuh. Mungkin karena kamu terasa begitu jauh, dan jarak ternyata bukan ketika kamu berada berkilometer jauhnya, tapi ketika hati tidak lagi bicara dalam bahasa yang sama.

Semua hal memang fana. Kita menjalani hidup dengan sebuah kesadaran bahwa hari ini, besok, atau mungkin lusa kehidupan ini akan berakhir. Dan cinta, seperti juga kebahagiaan, selalu memudar dan kemudian mati. Lalu, apakah ini harus disesali? Kita tahu bahwa apa yang terjadi memang harus terjadi. Kita tahu bahwa pada saat sesuatu dimulai, suatu saat ia akan berakhir.

Yang akan kita punya nanti, barangkali cuma kenangan; sebuah potret yang semakin lama akan semakin buram. Berpuluh-puluh tahun dari sekarang, sebuah puisi atau sepotong lirik lagu mungkin tiba-tiba akan mengingatkan aku kepadamu.

Saat itu, mungkin aku hanya akan berkata: untuk mencintai kamu, selamanya ternyata tidak cukup lama.




You are in the air
...and I am breathing you
(R.E.M)

Seorang Ine yang selalu (mengaku) rasional kali ini harus mengaku kalah: dia tidak bisa selalu rasional. bukan karena otaknya yang memang sedang-sedang saja tidak bisa lagi diajak berpikir, tapi karena hati mulai ikut angkat bicara, menuntut untuk punya porsi yang sama.

Kalau Ine hidup di Eropa pada masa Renaissans, saat ini Ine pasti sedang berada di tengah lautan, ikut dalam "Bahtera Kebodohan" karena kebodohan, air, dan laut dipercaya memiliki sebuah persamaan. Untung Ine hidup di Indonesia pada abad 21, ketika kebodohan dianggap manusiawi dan kegilaan tidak lagi menempati tempat yang ekstrim. Kalau tidak, saat ini di tengah lautan Ine sedang melamun, sayup-sayup mendengar orang berkata " Selamat berlayar, semoga menemukan kewarasan di tengah lautan"

Hari ini kayaknya semua orang jadi member annoyingpeople.com
Ugh! As if I don't have enough problem...

Hari ini baca entry yang menarik di blog-nya Enda, tentang apa yang lebih baik didahulukan, yang benar atau yang baik. Menurut saya sendiri sih ini memang hal yang sulit buat diputuskan. Makanya saya pikir saya bukan kantian ataupun utilitarianis. Saya lebih suka memutuskan segala sesuatu dengan melihat konteks. Artinya melihat alasannya, bagaimana efeknya buat orang lain dan buat saya sendiri, baru kemudian memutuskan apa yang harus dilakukan; apakah saya harus melakukan yang benar, biarpun mungkin efeknya buat orang lain tidak baik ataupun melakukan hal yang baik buat orang lain, biarpun sebenarnya itu bukan hal yang benar.

Fleksibel, tidak punya prinsip, atau indecisive...??? Untuk pembelaan diri, saya bilang sih saya fleksibel, karena segala sesuatu itu relatif, tidak ada yang absolut. Bahkan untuk pertanyaan apakah segala sesuatu di dunia ini relatif, pendapat orang juga relatif. Seorang teman bilang " Nothing is absolut, I believe it absolutely" sementara seorang teman lain bilang " Ine, di dunia ini ada yang relatif dan ada yang absolut. cantik atau tampan, itu relatif, tapi kalau jelek, itu absolut"

Jadi, semua hal tergantung konteks, kan?

Adek saya bilang saya dangkal, cuma karena saya suka Keanu Reeves.

"Keanu Reeves??"
"Iya, emang kenapa?"
"Yang bener aja, dia kan ngga bisa akting"
"And the point is..."
"Dia ngga bisa akting!"
"Hey, with that looks, who needs acting?"
"You're shallow"
"So not"
"Itu kan sama aja kayak cowo yang suka Britney padahal dia ngga bisa nyanyi"
" Tapi kan Keanu suaranya ngga kayak chipmunks"
"Yeah, but he's wearing that long-stupid coat"
"Justru itu, he's wearing that stupid coat and still handsome."
"You're hopeless"
"he he he"
"Shalloowww"
"...and proud of it"

Akhirnya adek saya nyerah. Selera adalah sesuatu yang tidak bisa diganggu gugat. Yes, I really am that shallow!

Makan siang kemarin beda dari biasanya: ditraktir makan Ayam Bakar Wong Solo. Tadinya males juga soalnya pernah janji dalam hati, ngga bakalan mau makan produk wong solo. Maklum, saya alergi dengan kata poligami. Dan rasanya rugi memberi keuntungan material sesedikit apapun buat pemiliknya . Tapi berhubung sudah siang dan lapar, juga dengan excuse 'toh bukan saya yang bayar, jadi secara teknis tidak menyalahi prinsip' saya makan juga (the end justify the means, lah. yang penting kenyang)
Tapi sebelum makan saya sempet ragu dan nanya Mbak Iva, teman sekantor;

"Mbak, jadi kita mendukung poligami, nih?"
"ya ngga, dong. tapi kan daripada jalan ke Balsem panas-panas begini, mending makan aja yang ada"

yah, itu lebih pragmatis dan praktis jadi akhirnya saya makan juga. Ternyata makanannya biasa aja. Sumpah, ini penilaian yang obyektif. Setelah makan, saya mikir-mikir, ada berapa orang seperti saya, yang tidak mau makan di Wong Solo karena pemiliknya mendukung poligami? Kalau cuma sekedar mempraktekkan poligami sih mungkin orang juga ngga terlalu antipati.. bagaimanapun juga itu urusannya dia, tapi masalahnya dia sangat bangga akan ke-poligami-annya dan encourage orang untuk mempraktekkan hal yang sama. Seolah itu hal paling benar yang bisa dilakukan laki-laki. Padahal sementara itu saya berpikir bahwa poligami adalah dehumanisasi dan tidak bermoral karena tidak memandang keadilan dari perspektif perempuan. Lalu kenapa tetap ada perempuan yang tidak keberatan dengan poligami? Yah semua orang punya alasan tersendiri. Tapi sungguh saya tidak percaya kalau mereka bilang dalam poligami bisa ada keadilan. Mungkin ada, tapi sifatnya kasuistis, (atau bisa dibilang anomali?). Dan mungkin juga dalam soal materi sih bisa saja ada keadilan, tapi dalam soal yang sifatnya metafisik seperti kasih sayang (correct me if I'm wrong, but basically marriage is still about love, isn't it?) apa orang bisa adil? Saya tidak percaya.

Tapi mungkin bagi sebagian orang rasa keadilan itu tidak penting. Mungkin cuma saya saja yang terlalu meributkan soal ini. Terlalu meributkan hal-hal yang menurut saya secara politis salah. Masalahnya menurut saya kualitas seorang manusia bisa dilihat dari caranya memperlakukan manusia lain. Dan karena menurut saya poligami itu tidak adil, ngga salah-salah amat kan, kalau saya berpikir manusia yang mempraktekkan poligami adalah manusia kurang berkualitas?

Kemarin malam saya nonton konser Pearl Jam di TV dan sedikit kaget ; Ini benar mereka? Ternyata gambaran mereka di kepala saya masih Pearl Jam yang dulu. Pearl Jam yang ada di poster kamar saya selama bertahun-tahun, sampai akhirnya diganti dengan gambar bunga waktu saya kuliah dan pindah ke Depok (Ternyata, walaupun sependapat bahwa Vedder memang ganteng, buat Ibu saya gambar bunga lebih cocok untuk perempuan)

Sekarang Vedder et al sudah tidak gondrong, & saya juga bukan anak yang SMA yang sedang tergila-gila dengan gitar sampai membuat orang serumah agak-agak frustasi (pasalnya, selain teriakan saya keras, suara saya juga jauh dari merdu). Waktu saya pindah mungkin orang tua saya senang juga karena sumber polusi suara akhirnya pergi..

Kembali lagi ke soal konser Pearl Jam, saya mau ngga mau jadi teringat almarhum teman saya waktu lagu Black muncul. Dulu kami sempat berdebat sengit tentang lagu mana yang paling bagus di album Ten. Saya suka Ocean. Ari suka Black. rasanya seperti baru kemarin, padahal itu 11 tahun yang lalu. Waktu itu saya pernah berpikir, 10 tahun dari sekarang, umur saya 26. saya jadi apa ya? Penganguran, kerja kantoran, atau jadi penyanyi rock? Ternyata semuanya meleset. Umur 26 saya baru saja lewat. Saya tidak kerja kantoran, tapi kerja di kampus, band2an saya bubar waktu lulus SMA, dan teman saya juga meninggal.

Hidup ternyata berjalan dengan cepat dan sulit diprediksi. Kita tidak pernah tahu apa yang menunggu di depan kita. Hari ini saya masih hidup, mengoceh tentang Pearl Jam dan merasa tua. Besok....apa saya masih ada di dunia ini? Kalau masih, besok saya ingin menulis tentang bagaimana saya mencintai hidup, walaupun hidup saya ternyata sangat biasa dan cita-cita saya waktu kecil tidak kesampaian. Mungkin karena saya tidak pernah ingin jadi dokter, presiden ataupun insinyur. Dulu saya ingin jadi pendekar. Untung tidak kesampaian karena jangankan membunuh, melihat darah saja saya takut. Lagipula, kalau saya jadi pendekar waktu turun gunung nanti saya mungkin malas kembali ke atas. Dulu saya pernah naik gunung dan sampai beberapa hari sesudahnya saya malas bangun dari tempat tidur. Tapi kalau saya terlalu malas buat kembali sudah pasti ilmu saya tidak akan bertambah dan saya pasti cepat mati. Untunglah saya cuma kerja di kampus. Pekerjaan dengan resiko kematian relatif rendah.. Petualangan paling berbahaya di sini adalah melewati hutan yang banjir semata kaki kalau hujan lebat turun. Dan inipun sekarang tidak perlu dipikirkan karena musim hujan sudah hampir lewat.

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

(e.e. Cummings)

I *do* miss you, my fire in the light

Sebenarnya weblog itu apa? Sekumpulan link, Sebuah online diary, jurnal atau apa? Seseorang pernah nulis, weblogger adalah sekumpulan orang narsis kurang kerjaan yang merasa bahwa dirinya menarik. Well, ternyata ada orang yang jauh lebih sinis dari saya. Setidaknya saya ngga pernah nulis sesuatu yang kira-kira bakalan menyinggung orang. Selain dosa (yah saya masih inget sama yang satu itu), juga ngga ada gunanya bikin orang lain marah. I'm a pacifist, by the way.

Alasan saya bikin weblog? No particular reason. Seperti biasa saya ngga terlalu mikirin alasan untuk berbuat sesuatu. Terlalu banyak teori dalam hidup juga bikin pusing. Mungkin itu juga sebabnya kenapa hidup saya ngga pernah terencana dengan baik. saya selalu melakukan apa saja yang saya mau tanpa mikir panjang. Tapi hidup kan emang cuma sekali. Harus punya makna tapi ngga berarti harus selalu dibawa serius. Apa ini artinya saya seorang hedonis? Ngga juga. Pada dasarnya saya orang yang sangat sederhana. mungkin terlalu sedehana untuk dikotak-kotakkan dalam suatu kategori. Bahkan untuk kategori plain sekalipun. Too human.

Lalu, apa ini online diary? not exactly like that. Diary harus berisi tulisan yang jujur tentang diri kita sendiri. Dan saya ngga yakin kita bisa jujur menulis tentang diri kita sendiri kalau kita tahu tulisan kita mungkin dibaca orang. ini mungkin cuma tulisan dari orang yang pikirannya sedang kurang lurus.

So what's the point? Ngga ada. I just feel like babbling. Orang-narsis-kurang-kerjaan ini lagi punya banyak kerjaan di kantor and the only thing that would keep her sunny disposition is talking incessantly (grin)

Puji My Hunny, Bunny, cupcake, pumpkin :)
Thanks a lot!!!
Kalo mo ganti template, lo yang ngerjain juga kan he he he

I'll take the above....hope its ok with you...