A Letter to My Rain City

I haven't told you yet, but I'm leaving. No, you didn't do anything wrong. We're just at different places in life, now. You are my young love, my place of growth. Here you told me I was enough. Here I learned that I was worthed. Here with you I was open and real, honest and tough.

Growing up I was told that I was talented, that I had the skills and talents to get to where I want to be in the future. But none of that matters because I didn't know that for myself. Encouragements and compliments could only get so far. You, though, presented me with opportunities to impress, moments of contentment with myself. I learned to shake off my fears of failures, and to reach for the possibilities. I was pushed out of my pressured shell, trying to be someone else - confident, intellectual thinker, and serious talent - to someone that I am - a happy-go-lucky, nut-ball.

I'm leaving you because my time is done. You've taught me enough, and now some other place will be my next home. Some other city will try to drill something new to me, or maybe it'll be the other way around. Nonetheless, I am leaving you because you've changed me to be a changer. So, here's my gratefulness, here is my tears of goodbye.

I will miss your people, the way they smile at strangers or say their made up greetings. I will miss your mellow, misty, wet air. The way you silence my words with your sheer night time beauty. I will miss my private moments, the tranquility and space. I will miss your comfort.

I imagine moving to my new, old, city and being swept by a flood of discomfort. Maybe a sense of righteousness, more so than discomfort. Maybe I would cry as the memories of my new, old, city came back. Or maybe I would huff from the moisture that is ever so thick in the damp tropical heat. I am not in fear, but I am in great ambiguity. I am not questioning my choice to leave, but i am questioning my real resolution for my new, old, city. Nonetheless, we'll grasp it somehow -resolution and sureness- it will come. The last page is turning.

Indonesian Writing Skill Test #01: Waktu -- work in progress --

Kayanya baru beberapa hari yang lalu saya belajar menulis angka 2012 diakhir setiap tanggal. Tanpa sadar, kita sudah berada ditengah tahun berikutnya. Memang waktu itu sesuatu yang paling tidak bisa dihitung. Maksud saya, ukuran jam dan menit itu kurang mudah untuk dirasakan, lebih-lebih untuk ditakar. Contoh, terkadang lima menit terasa selama pergantian musim kemarau ke musim hujan, sedangkan di saat-saat lain 5 menit hilang dalam satu hembusan nafas. Jadi, bagaimana sih cara menghitung waktu yang tepat -- tanpa dipagari hitungan-hitungan matematis? Mari bicara abstrak.

Shout out to Tam

For those of you looking into buying asian facial products, check out Tam's blog. She's just getting into the game, but she has a lot of knowledge on this topic. She gave her face as a trial plate for those facial products. So, read her blog: skinbreeze.blogspot.com

Dear J

and even if you stayed quiet
i would stay, stay until i move your heart
somehow

nothing i do is comparable to yours
i would only seek to stay by you
to watch you, to be a part of you

and even if you stayed quiet
i would stay until your heart
move me

Mother//Daughter

My size 7 was too big for her
yet attitude filled the gap between 
her heel and the back of her shoe
fitted her better

My mother's eyes
calm, but clouded
another layer in between
separates us

The storm seemed like rain
she stopped looking at the window
and ran out to welcome
the wet confettis from heaven

Her hair was glorious
long black gorgeous
grey and musty
they now luster no more

My baby stared at me
the to her first chicken feet
disgust and excitement
in her eyes

Trembling she reached out
slowly breathed
intangible words
of quiet love

a month of camp
without me
said it was fun
i wont be here forever


At first there was hope
but now it all seemed
clearly our time
is nearing its end


your bursts of anger
i hardly remember
there were too many
to count and still love

bright blue sky
a scorn to what may
mom looked out
touched my furrowed brows

as you walk in your robe
my nose stings
you told me not to cry
'save that for my wedding'

"Don't comfort me.. That's my role, that's why I'm here" 

"My baby"

"What was that, Mom...?"

One or two silent strokes, a bigger one two months ago, a trip and fall last night. mom's tongue is numbed, as with the left side of her body. Trouble breathing, but no trouble smiling. I don't know if that's a fight to stay alive, or just her waiting for all her children to gather around. A trip from the states took 2 days mom, so hold on tight. I'll be coming soon, my flight is in 2 hours.

sattelite

12/7/11 was the day I wrote this. I wonder what kept me from publishing..

A piece of two worlds

energized by longings to be 

one of the two

Your hands made it

with a dream to reach mine

programmed to your language

mine it won't understand

Your satellite looked back

as it left your atmosphere

grinning in excitement

it is hungry for space

It takes years of stillness

to ponder through maturity,

of many tribulations, and

taxing emotions

Because it misses you

so terribly

it thinks less of me

and my wonders

it looked back

to your blue planet

wishing for warmth

and temporary worries

for tight hugs

and traffic jams

for assuring smiles

and stupid shrieks at

horror movies

take back your satellite, earth

because it revolves around you

and it longs to be in you

no more looking from afar

waiting for something to happen

dan lalu
hari mendung kembali menyapa
kelas kelas gelap penuh nyawa
suck us all in
finals