Busy

I've got A LOT in my hands right now, so writing would be a privilege for the time being (no more 30 posts in 6 days I guess)...
And any time spared for my blog will be focused on working its layout.
Hope everything's back to normal soon.
Stay tuned.

Word of the Day: Snide

(adj)
1a: false, counterfeit b: practicing deception: dishonest (a snide merchant)
2: unworthy of esteem: low (a snide trick)
3: slyly disparaging: insinuating (snide remarks)

source: the Merriam-Webster Online Dictionary

"I resent his snide, derogatory remarks relating to contestant's looks, personality and appearance."

Foolproof

"A common mistake people make when trying to design something completely foolproof is to underestimate the ingenuity of complete fools."

- Douglas Adams

In my first year of college, I lived with a friend of mine. We rented a house together.
He was quite smart, and he always wanted everything to be done quickly.

One day, I saw him writing a text message.
I could see that it wasn’t a regular message since it took him a long time to finish it.
So I said to him, “What are you writing?”
“A text message for Ben,” he replied. Ben is another friend of mine.
“Why do you look like you’re thinking hard?”
“Coz Ben never gives a quick answer,” he answered. “Every time I asked something to him, he always managed to ask me back before giving me the answer. Just like when I asked Lil’s phone number, remember? We texted back and forth just to be clear which Lil we’re talking about. For crying out loud, there’s only one on campus. I wasted my money just for texts.
Now, I need Jules’s number. But I’ll make sure he give me a quick answer. I’ve already written all there is to know about her. Her class, what she looks like, who she hangs out with, where she’s from, anything! There’s no way he can get out of this.”

So he sent it.
In no time, Ben’s reply came. We saw it together as he opened it.
I laughed so hard, seeing what he had written.

“WHAT FOR?”

How to Break a Tearjerker

I watched this show the other night. I’m not gonna tell you what it was, except that the show had female contestants.
At one time, a contestant was brought on the stage. And the host contacted her mother (she was from another town) via long distance call. It turned out that the mother wasn’t so keen about her daughter’s decision to move to Jakarta pursuing her dreams. At the end of the conversation, the contestant asked if she was allowed to speak to her mother. The host gave her the chance.

So she said between her sobs, “Mother, I know we’ve had our differences. But understand this; I’m doing this not only for my self, but for you. I love you and all I’ve ever wanted is to make you proud. I also want to thank you for everything you’ve done for me. I would not be here if it weren’t for you. Please pray for me always. I love you.”
By the time she was over the room was filled with sobs. The girl was so moving and genuine. Everyone couldn’t help but to feel for her and her love for her mother.
A moment of silence…
Then her mother replied with a loud voice,
“What? I’m sorry Darling, I can’t hear you. What did you say?

What a blower.

The Worst Song in the World

It’s Happy Birthday. Why?

Because for the birthday boy/girl it's three minutes of awkwardness filled with constant effort to stand still, do nothing, and listen coz you can’t sing with them since the song is about you, whilst keeping a smile no matter how dry your teeth it makes just for the sake of not letting anyone down, without the slightest chance to hide your face and take a break because everyone’s staring at you from every direction.

Come to think of it, maybe it’s the same for the singers. The only difference is that they get to sing.

A Self-Assured Criminal

For the past weeks my family had consumed this wine. It was a simple, red wine. My brother was the one who first brought it home. He also did all the buying since he was the only one who knew where to get it.
One time, my father told me to get it. So I went with my brother. He told me to bring the bottle with me to make it cheaper. With the bottle in my hand, we rode a motorcycle to the place.

Once we got there, my brother dropped me off because he had to draw some money.
I watched him go, and then walked lightly to the place. I hummed and swung the bottle back and forth. Some people looked at me, but I didn’t care. I approached a guy who was sitting next to a few empty bottles. I showed my bottle and said to him, “I want to buy this… wine please.”

He gave me a funny look than check my bottle. “I’m sorry,” he said. “This one’s out, the cops confiscated all of them yesterday.”
I could feel my heart stop beating.
“What?” I said. “Cops? Confiscated? You mean these things are illegal?”
No wonder everyone was looking at me!
So I hid the bottle in my arms and went straight home.

"Don’t be so humble - you are not that great."

- Golda Meir, to a visiting diplomat

Haywired Circadian Part Deux

Remember what I said about haywired circadian? I said that one way to get through it is to hold your sleep until it is the appropriate time.
Well, I forgot to mention something else. It’s gonna be a lot worse before it gets better.

Yesterday morning, I tried to stay awake when I was supposed to sleep (I used to sleep as dawn broke). And I managed to do that.
By night, just like everyone else, I began to feel sleepy. So I went to bed and fell asleep soon right after.
Hooray! Everything’s back to normal right?
Well it didn't.
I slept as if I hadn’t for two days. I woke up at 11 am, even worse than before.
And I thought I would get up in the morning just like everyone else.
Thank God, my clinic doesn’t start before 1 pm. I got prepped quickly, and went to work.

I’m going to bed after this. Let’s see how it turns out tomorrow.

Not a Martian nor Venusian

Have you read Mars and Venus Together Forever: A Practical Guide to Creating Lasting Intimacy? It’s a book from John Gray, PhD.
I haven’t read it either actually. I just found it on my cousin’s bookshelf one day and strolled through its pages quickly.
I thought it would be all about Men-Women jokes. Well, not jokes, just funny Men-Women facts.

But I was wrong. It is a book about marriage; how to succeed one considering that men and women are so different in nature that they may have come from different planets.
Basically it tells men to be more sensitive, and women to be more… well, INsensitive; and voila, a good marriage.

I’m not going to talk about it. I just want to say that it made me realize something. In the book, men are all macho, logical, and incapable of feelings; while women are all about feelings.
I can’t say I can connect with that. Based on the book, I’m neither a man, nor a woman.
I think I’m quite logical, but some events make me cry. Hell, some movies make me cry. I hate dressing up but that doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate beauty (in fact, I can see beauty from the most mundane things). I watch Hikaru Koto (an AV Idol/porn actress) and Before Sunrise (a low-budget flick). I read about serial killers and how to make your own Christmas cards. I even like to talk about boobs AND feelings.
So what does it make me? A Martian? A Venusian? Is it important?

Maybe not. But now I know why I always fall for tough girls.

The Figure

A friend of mine works in a 24 hour-clinic not far from campus. It’s a small clinic, and the building has four stories. All medical practice is done on the fourth floor, while the third floor is used as the office.

Next to the office there’s a small room with a bed and a TV set in it. The room was meant to be used by doctors who work night shifts. It is seldom used though, since the floor is believed to be haunted. There are a lot of ghost stories surrounding it. They usually involve an apparition; a dark figure, that shows up walking around the floor at night.

One day, my friend was on her night shift. As others, she never steps on the floor at night, but that night she had to. She had got to pick up something in the room. So she carefully took the stairs and paced down.
Once she got on the floor, she quickly entered the room, took what she needed, and went out. Nothing happened.
She was half her way back to the stairs when she noticed that the office door was open. She should’ve left anyway, but did something she wasn’t supposed to. She looked through the cleft the open door had created.
And inside, there’s this figure, standing still, facing her.

She was shocked to death; her body froze, and almost screamed. The ghost was there!
But then she quickly realized that the figure was just her own reflection. It turned out she was looking at a mirror inside the office!

What a relief.

Maybe all the stories about a ghost, a figure, wandering around the floor were merely an exaggeration, right?
Well anyway, the next day she found out the office had no mirrors.

A Talented Ninja

I believe I'd make a good ninja.

Because everyone hardly notices me.

I don't know why, it's like I have no aura of presence or something. No significant quality or radiance, perhaps?
Couldn't remember just how many times I was thought absent from college or work.

It's fine. I kinda like it since I'm myself a bit schizophrenic.

One problem though. I hate to take buses. I have a different effect on bus conductors. It seems that my aura is enough for them to notice me, but not enough to remember that I have paid my fare. I've lost count on how many taps I get on my shoulder every time, just to hear that same old statement.
"Money, please."

By the Way

Julie Delpy in Before Sunrise

-The Most Beautiful Woman in the World-

Haywired Circadian

Just woke up.

Let me tell you, never mess with your circadian rhythm unless you have to. You're gonna be very very sorry. I should've known better than to wake up at nights, watch television and go online. I guess I've killed whatever left of my rhythm now.

Basically, living things have this daily rhythm of biochemical process that is called circadian rhythm. It tells them, for instance, when to sleep or wake up. The rhythm is influenced by external factors such as light and temperature. That's why when night comes (when there's not much light and the temperature drops), you get sleepy.

Well for me it doesn't work like that anymore. My eyes are open wide in the dark, and start to shut right at the break of dawn. No better than a vampire. Not to mention its mood changing effect or increased risk for cancer.

So what's the best way to deal with it?
Well... Drugs.
Or you can try to hold your sleep until it is the appropriate time to do it.

Damn, I know I should've stayed awake this morning.

Pretty Women

I had this friend once, and she could be considered as pretty. We used to go out together to eat and talk.
I had no feelings for her whatsoever though; I just liked her company and stories.
Anyway, at one time another friend of mine asked why I hadn't gone for her. And I said because I had this suspicion on pretty women. By suspicion, I meant more like paranoia. And I still do.

Why? Well, by experience, I find that most of them have two things in common.

The first, they are more prone to hypocrisy.

You see, this friend of mine was very popular. Everybody just loved her. Everywhere I went, people would say good things about her.
Now, being liked by most people may say that you're a nice person. But being liked by everyone?
There's just something wrong with it. I believe that if you go as yourself, how nice and kind it may be, there will still be someone who doesn't like you.
Their being liked by literally everyone means that they always try to please everybody. Maybe because they get so used to the amount of attention they receive for being pretty since childhood that they always crave for more. By pleasing everyone, they have a chance to be praised a lot more.
It doesn't always work you know. More often than not, they always end up hurting someone because of these pleasing errands. And it's usually the one that is closest to them. Somebody has got to pay the price, right?

The second is that they are barely ever single.

I know that relationships help you grow. But I think so does being single. Being single lets you learn about yourself, who you really are, what you really want; teaches you to be strong and mature, and gives you a chance to love yourself more. In the end you become a better person to love and be loved. The fact that they are barely single makes me wonder if they ever reflect at all; if they ever see themselves as a person in this world, and not just someone’s girlfriend. You know, a person with private hopes, private dreams, private goals that cannot be compromised by others’ take on her life; a full person.

Not all of them are like that. But most of pretty women in my life are.

Now, if I could just find someone who’s pretty but doesn’t know she is, or at least doesn’t really care… that would be very nice.

The Minotaur

The Minotaur

There’s a photo I found by Man Ray. It is called the Minotaur and it’s a surrealistic photograph. As you can see, in a way, it depicts the Minotaur. The arms represent the horns; the nipples are the eyes; and the belly is the mouth.

I always find myself chilling at the sight of this photo. And yet, there’s something about it that’s captivating. I can't help but to stare at it.

And I know I’m not the only one...

Some say that this photo inspired the Black Dahlia murder. It was a murder back in the early 20th century which was much too brutal for the time. The victim was a struggling Hollywood actress. She was found naked, mutilated, and posed to resemble the photo. The murderer was never captured.

Some people just go too far for art, I guess.

A Bit about CC, You China!

CC is a high school. I went there for junior and senior high. The name stands for Canisius College, though may sometimes be referred to as Cinasius College (meaning: College of the Chinese). It’s no surprise since most of the students are indeed of Chinese descendants. The rest consists of Javanese, Padangese, and a small number of other ethnicities.

There’s a tradition that is passed for generations in CC. We never let anyone forget what ethnicity they belong to.
We call the Padangese ‘Padang’.
We call the Javanese ‘Jawa’, or sometimes ‘Tiko’ (it’s supposed to be a Chinese word, but when I asked for its meaning once, a friend of mine told me to just let it go).
We call the Chinese ‘China’, and so on.

The names aren’t necessary used by a group to call a different group. They are in fact used by students in the same group to call one another. No one’s ever got offended, and we find it to be funny and friendly.

My girlfriend once confronted me on this ‘habit’. She said that race and ethnicity were serious and sensitive subjects. They are not to be taken lightly and irresponsibly.
At first, I didn't say anything. But when she kept pressing on, I finally said,

“Darling, the last time a man took it seriously, he killed 6 million Jews.”

Let's Peek!

Reality shows have become a large portion of television these days. Not a single day gets by without three, at the very very least. They may have different takes, but the bottom line is always the same. Private matters. We get to see people in their private quarters, doing their private things, telling their private feelings. Hell, we even get to hear every secretive-all whispering conversations.

I read in a newspaper once that the reason why reality shows are so alluring is because it is actually a type of voyeurism. Yes, that sexual interest in spying people engaged in intimate or private behaviors.
Well, maybe that's true.
Although it makes you wonder a bit. Has everything got to do with sex?

I watched fake wrestling a lot. You know, when half naked sweating men grope each other passionately for hours. That doesn't mean I'm gay right?

"In the beginning the Universe was created. This has made a lot of people very angry and been widely regarded as a bad move."

- Douglas Adams

Inspiring Others

:))

I just found out that my profile was actually copied and pasted on some stranger's profile. It's fine, but maybe she should check it a bit before putting it on her page. Unless she does sleep on the floor.
Geez...

Just watched a talk show on television. It was about the controversy around tari Pendet, a traditional Balinese dance, that is used in a tourism commercial entitled Enigmatic Malaysia.
Blah.
It's not the first time they try to steal Indonesian culture and claim it as their own (Angklung... cough... Reog... cough... Keris... cough... Wayang...). Not much cultural heritage to offer I see.
Anyway, on the show, one of the crew from the production house that made the commercial is wired through a teleconference. On the other side of the line is... non other than Indonesia's Minister of Culture.
And this crew member went rambling on how he used tari Pendet as a way of showing the history of Batik (wtf??) and that it was a traditional dance (so?? it's still from Bali for God's sake).
So the minister, God bless him, stopped his ramblings and asked,
"Do you know you used tari Pendet?"
"Yes," he replied.
"Do you know where it's from?"
"Yes, Bali," he said.
"Than why on earth would you display it and write down Enigmatic Malaysia all over it?!"
Hahaha... Finally. And the rambling was over.

I guess we do inspire something. In a way.

Word of the Day: Cheapskate

(n)
a miserly or stingy person; especially: one who tries to avoid paying a fair share of costs or expenses

source: the Merriam-Webster Online Dictionary

"OK so I went out with this cheapskate, he asked if I wanted to split a cheeseburger?"

Attraction of the Same Kind

There’s something I’ve noticed ever since my early years in medical school. I always attract similar thoughts and personalities. Well basically… similar people.

I never wanted to be a doctor actually. I can’t even remember how I picked this major.
Neither do my friends. And I mean most of my friends. Nine of my closest friends never wanted to become a doctor. And their reasons are equally pathetic, ranging from disliking physics (??), false belief about the amount of paperwork (someone actually thought that paperwork is less in medicine, just how wrong it is), and my favorite reason, “because someone I don’t even remember mentioned that prospect once.”

What a bunch of goofballs.

But don’t get me wrong. We all graduated with good grades.

Something to Remember

Darling, I’m gonna prove it to you.

I’ll be a fearless traveler!

I’ll be a good writer!

I’ll be a good doctor!

I’ll be an environmental protector!

I’ll have a magnificent life!

I’ll find God!

:)

Sober

I’m sober now.

And all happened only in one night.

This reminds me of what my parents used to say, “The pain may never go away, but it gets faster to heal every time it comes.”

I guess they were right.

Definitely Not Superhuman Anymore

I have a very very excruciating pain right now. From a trauma I had recently.

Wait a minute,
it’s not recent at all!
It was eight months ago. It was December 08!
How the hell have I not forgotten anything about it?! I hate myself for being so weak.

Actually I was rather fine for the last five months. I mourned for three months, and got my life back for five months.
But then, out of the blue, without any glimpse of sign, I woke up and found it lying next to me.
God, will this torment end?

For all the wise guys out there, let me tell you something.
I know about all the healing crap theories.

The only reason the pain comes back is because you want it. Deep inside you love to be tormented, tortured. You love to be in pain. You invite the memories.
Fuck!
I DON’T WANT IT TO COME BACK!! Who’s in the right mind would want something like that?! Okay, I know that some people do. But not me! I never invite the memories to come in. They just break their way in. How can I control something that comes without my consent?! That’s nuts. And believe me I’ve tried every single way to get off of them. But they always find a way. If they can’t do it in my consciousness, they do it when I’m unconscious. Nightmares, nightmares all the time.

Happiness is a choice. You have the freedom to be happy, despite everything.
Maybe. But it’s exhausting to be happy based on solely because you choose it for the last eight months, okay?! Can’t happiness just come? Must I always choose it? Can’t my urges be happy thoughts so I don’t have to dismiss them all the time?

Embrace it
This is the best advice I’ve had. Every time choosing happiness fails, I always try to embrace. But sometimes it makes me sick. Sick because I can’t see any way out of this mess. Sick because I feel no hope for getting out. Sick because I’m tired.

So I said to God,
I know this is wrong God, but can’t You do a tiny bitsy thing and SMITE THAT BITCH A BIT?!!!
She’s damn happy with her lying-backstabbing-angelic-devilish-disgusting face. She’s got all her friends, she’s got all her lies that keep her popular while render me the bad fucking guy, she’s got all the support she needs. She wouldn't even admit our relationship. Fuck this!

Can’t You do some justice?!
I hate her. I hate what she puts on me. I hate that she’s happy.
God, I hate everything right now.

So much for a stable man. So much for being superhuman for five months.
Crumbled to pieces. Back to square one.

PS: for all you twirks who are always so judgmental when someone tells his/her story to you, well you can go to hell. The last thing they need is your arrogant judgment.

Not Superhuman (Anymore)

My girl went completely gone for 7 days, blew my adrenaline levels to the roof for the sake of finding her. And she turned up on the 7th day, all happy, fine, and in a relationship with someone else.
I hate her ever since.

Hmh... Nope.

My girl left me for another man she claimed she hated. I wonder how much had she lied to me then?
Well, I hate her ever since.

Hmh... Nope.

I hate her after a series of me forgiving her to be screwed up again the very same day.

Hmh... Nope.

I hate her after finally when I tried to forgive her for a 100th time, she just said that she didn’t want to talk to me anymore.

Yep. That’s it.

For all the fuckups she had done, couldn’t she cope with my way?! Why do I have to follow her way?

Fuck her.

Anything, Any Damn Thing

It just came to me that I can write anything here.

I always think a lot before I write something down.

Well not anymore.

Coz in the end, blog is crap right?

And that’s what I will do.

I’ll write my crap.

Where else to put it?

No one’s gonna read this anyway.