Tuesday, May 20, 2008

Things Happened When You're Twenty Something (Part I)

Kejadiannya pas gue lagi belanja jins bareng si mamah. Berhubung dibayarin, jadilah gue seneng2 aja nemenin doi keliling2 beli jins baru. Sampai tibalah saatnya gue memilih jins yang gue inginkan…

Mas2 yang jaga toko: Size-nya apa, mbak?

Gue: Hmmm… S kayanya mas. Atau nomer yang paling kecil aja deh. Biasanya saya pake ukuran yang paling kecil soalnya.

Mas2 yang jaga toko: *menatap dengan pandangan gak yakin* S, mbak?

Gue: *sensi dengan tatapan si mas2 yang gak yakin sambil ngambilin jins dengan size permintaan gue* Iya, saya biasa pake yang S.

Mas2 yang jaga toko: *ngasih jins dengan nggak rela* Ini, mbak. Mau nyobain yang M sekalian?

Gue: *sensi, senewen dan mulai melirik dengan sebel* Hmph, ya udah deh sini, sekalian.

Jadilah, gue masuk ke kamar pas dengan membawa dua potong jins warna washout black yang emang gue pengenin sejak lama itu, ukuran S dan M. Si jins ukuran M tentu aja gue lirik dengan lirikan seperti yang bisa diberikan oleh seorang ibu tiri pada keponakan jauh anak tirinya, sambil menggantungnya di gantungan baju dengan cukup jumawa. Lalu mulailah gue nyobain si jins ukuran S. Gerakan doyong-doyong ke kiri dan ke kanan ketika memasukkan ujung kaki ke celana gue anggap sebagai hal yang normal, alah.. ini mah emang biasa atuh.. jins jaman sekarang emang potongannya bikin doyong-doyong kalo mau dipake saking cucutnya ujungnya. Mulai agak naik ke atas, doyong2an gue makin seru, tapi gue teteup semangat dan percaya kalo ini emang cuma efek potongan jins dan emang harus begitulah adanya. Barulah ketika doyong2an gue itu sudah menjadi lompat2an agak heboh ketika sudah sampai ke bagian paha nyaris pinggul, gue mulai tertegun. ‘Ada sesuatu yang salah di sini. Sumpah. Saya tidak tau apa, tapi rasanya benar2 ada sesuatu yang salah!’ Lalu karena gue nggak suka melakukan sesuatu yang terasa salah (serem, takut dosa), maka dengan lunglai gue membuka kembali jins ukuran S yang nggak sukses nyampe bagian paha nyaris pinggul itu.

Samar-samar, gue seperti ngedenger suara cekikikan dari arah si jins ukuran M yang gue gantung . ‘Oh faaaaaiiinnnn... sini lo kampret, gue pake!’ dan akhirnya gue putuskan untuk nyobain si jins ukuran M itu juga. Pas gue cobain, gerakan doyong2 masih terjadi (bener kan, itu mah efek potongan jins jaman sekarang!), sampe bagian paha, mulai terasa sempit, namun dimana ada kemauan di situ ada jalan, maka dengan sedikit gerakan2 memaksa, berhasil lah jins itu memeluk pinggul gue dengan sempurna. ‘Ah! There you are! Sial, ukuran gue M ternyata!’ tapi itu sebelum gue mencoba mengancingkan jins itu.... dan.. dan.. dan gak muaaaaaaaaaaattttttttt!!!!

*sakit hati*

*berlinang air mata*

Hari itu, gue tetep membeli jins berukuran M itu, karena ukuran gue bukan L. Sumpah bukan L, gue cuma perlu beberapa minggu lari pagi.

Tuesday, May 06, 2008

huhuhuuuu...

“Iteman, si?”

“Wow! You got your tan!”

“Deeeuuu yang baru liburaaaan...”

Balik dari Bali dengan kulit yang gosong sentosa, gue jadi familiar sama komentar2 macem begituan. Emang, main panas2an tiap hari bikin kulit gue jadi item. Tapi kan udah gue bilang, gak peduli juga sih, soalnya sebanding banget sama segala hal2 cihuy under the sun yang gue lakuin di sana. Jadi, komentar2 seputar kulit gue yang iteman selalu gue jawab dengan cengiran jumawa. Tapi itu sebelum kejadian sore ini pas gue lagi sok gaya luluran di salon. Si mbak2 kapster yang ramah dan murah senyum itu tiba2 nanya sama gue...

“Cowoknya bule ya, mbak?”*

Kampret! Kok gue sebel yahhhh... jadi maksuth lo apeeee? Gue setipe sama cewek2 cem2annya buleeeeeee???? Huaaa... gue tau si mbak2 itu gak bermaksud nyebelin, orang cuma ngomong cowoknya bule doang, huhuuuu, dan kaga ada hubungannya, temen gue aja banyak yang cowoknya bule dan mereka juga cihuy2 aja kok. Tapi tetep ajaaaa... huhuuuu... gue benci stereotipeeeee...

Friday, May 02, 2008

Hella Bali (Part I)

Oh yeah what the hell. This morning I gave a metal sign to my reflection on the mirror. Screw these utterly atrocious-looking pimples, that went sprouting and blossoming in every available lease on my face like the spring of July. Screw these beautifully mangy complexion, the flawless dirt-colored skin of mine, the hopelessly tousled hair, screw them all, screw them all. How would I, o godhead, ever complained, upon these fantabulous days I had. When I got to lie down at the sandy beach of Kuta in the stark of the night, the first night I arrived here. Looking at the stars and watching them colors swirling and twirling before me. When I got to see bits by bits of sands went elevated, floating like bubbles up to the effervescent sky. Clouds of aurora dancing and musing in slow motion, eating and rolling the twinkling stars in the hay. When I got to sing to every Beatles' song I know with the band of the sea playing the waves melody serenading every tune I made. I felt the utmost kindness overflowing in my blood stream, gushing in every heartbeat. I felt beautiful, I felt unruffled, calm and ecstatic at the same time, so elevated, I felt that there should be a song dedicated to my splendiferous being. “I should live and die by the sea! This is across the universe, floating in the sky like diamond. This is blackbird singing in the dead of night, and if you want me to, I will! I will!” Darn crazy mushroom!

The second night here, I wandered around, I gazed at the loitering crowds of Legian roaming around upon the noisy night, back and forth, back and forth. I took some sips, and the trip then brought me to a square room where everything was black and white. I felt a little bit claustrophobic, but it didn't take me away from noticing them shadows making lazy motions on the wall. It was quiescent, yet exhiliarating. I turned the tv on and meditated upon the dramatic sounds they played in every movie score. The fact that I felt overwhelmed with pulses of enlightment after watching The House of Wax, made me understand why they made the word 'crazy' embedded with the complete phrase.

The next day, off to dreamland I went. After bathed in a little bit of rain of adrenalines in Benoa. A little bit, I said. Not that much. I happened to think that human-made rain of adrenaline couldn't even go as close to the rhapsodic ecstasy offered by the nature-produced substances. Not that I didn't gorge every single drip of adrenaline offered, though. And dreamland was beautiful, the strikingly clear blue sky, the clean white sands, I dipped my feet beneath and felt the coolness of it dampening my sunbaked toes. I waved the sun good sleep as it went setting down.

On the fifth day, I went to Amed. Impressively far, we went through all these beautiful remote villages in Bali. Made a stop at Amlapura for breakfast, the place were stunning with oldschool Dutch architectural buildings adorning the traditional market. It's not until two hours later that we finally reached Eco-Dive, the diving site of our destination. Once again I bode my ignorance upon the beady-eyed sunshine. It was 12 at noon, I couldn't even care less how the lumbering weight of my scuba tank hurt my spine as I dragged myself as close as I can to the sea shore. Sun was warm and the burden on my back got lighter and lighter as I drown myself deeper and deeper. It was miraculous down there, indeed. School of fish in sparkling color were fluttering all around me, I touched the nearest anemones that waved upon me flirtatiously. It was soft and jelly-like. Upon my head the rays were penetrating the sea surface, like the swords of light diffusing everything on their ways. I chased a yellow fish with blue lines on its fins that swam right in front of my nose, but I was too joyous, the burst of air bubbles dazzled my sight out of the flickering little fish. I lost any track of time and space, though I wasn't failed to remind myself to look at my air gauge every once in awhile. It's not until Made, my dive-buddy, softly pulled my left flipper, that I saw his thumb pointed upwards, a sign to greet the surface at last. I took off my goggles, and Made was a bit startled. “You're bleeding.” He said, pointed out at my nose. “Am I?”, I wiped my nose off and saw lines of red smearing the back of my palm. It must be the air pressure down there, I was too happy chasing the fish I rarely equalized. It was nothing serious, though. Nothing that could beat the fun I felt that day.

So how could I complain about all these sunburn pain, the ache in my ear, and the flakes on my head? When I'm writing this while lying lazily under the sun that shines brightly upon the sandy beach of Kuta. How dare I could ever complained? Just bring me more arak attack, and some more bacons, please!


Monday, April 14, 2008

Menahun

aku ingin mabuk menahun :) kuingin ambil semua zat sedatif yang tersebar di udara lalu menyatu dengan debu dinding. agar tidak kuingat lagi kala air matamu kutampung dalam botol-botol kaca, lalu kusimpan tersusun rapi dalam lemari. terberi label nama dan khasiat. dahaga lepas tapi pipimu pias. agar tidak kuingat lagi kala jantungmu, hatimu, paru-paru yang menderukan napasmu adalah bantalan empuk untuk jarum-jarum jahitku, sebelum mulai kuuntai benang dan kutisik lagi selimut mimpi kita. agar tidak kuingat lagi kala setiap ruam syaraf otakmu terasuki jaring laba-laba yang kupintal panjang berujung pada rambut yang kuminta kamu belai setiap hari kita bermimpi.
aku ingin mabuk menahun.
aku ingin memikirkan kalau kamar tempat aku tidur adalah sebuah pulau kecil sunyi berbentuk tanda koma.

Desember

Selalu ada yang bernyanyi dan berelegi

Di balik awan hitam

Semoga ada yang menerangi sisi gelap ini

Menanti..

Seperti pelangi setia menunggu hujan reda

Aku selalu suka sehabis hujan di bulan Desember

Di bulan Desember...

Sampai nanti ketika hujan tak lagi

Meneteskan duka meretas luka

Sampai hujan memulihkan luka...

*song by erk



dan apalagi yang bisa kubilang kali ini karena sungguh persediaan pura-pura ku sudah menguap terbuang ke sudut-sudut ruangan...

Sunday, March 16, 2008

Always Look On The Bright Side of Life...

Some things in life are bad
They can really make you mad
Other things just make you swear and curse.
When you're chewing on life's gristle
Don't grumble, give a whistle
And this'll help things turn out for the best...

And...always look on the bright side of life...
Always look on the light side of life...

If life seems jolly rotten
There's something you've forgotten
And that's to laugh and smile and dance and sing.
When you're feeling in the dumps
Don't be silly chumps
Just purse your lips and whistle - that's the thing.

And...always look on the bright side of life...
Always look on the light side of life...

For life is quite absurd
And death's the final word
You must always face the curtain with a bow.
Forget about your sin - give the audience a grin
Enjoy it - it's your last chance anyhow.

So always look on the bright side of death
Just before you draw your terminal breath

Life's a piece of shit
When you look at it
Life's a laugh and death's a joke, it's true.
You'll see it's all a show
Keep 'em laughing as you go
Just remember that the last laugh is on you.

And always look on the bright side of life...
Always look on the right side of life...
(Come on guys, cheer up!)
Always look on the bright side of life...
Always look on the bright side of life...
(Worse things happen at sea, you know.)
Always look on the bright side of life...
(I mean - what have you got to lose?)
(You know, you come from nothing - you're going back to nothing.
What have you lost? Nothing!)
Always look on the right side of life...


This song is from Life of Brian, Monty Python. Sing Sisie sing! hufffffff...
image was taken from trishbeeuk.blogspot.com

Always Look On the Bright Side of Life

Some things in life are bad
They can really make you mad
Other things just make you swear and curse.
When you're chewing on life's gristle
Don't grumble, give a whistle
And this'll help things turn out for the best...

And...always look on the bright side of life...
Always look on the light side of life...

If life seems jolly rotten
There's something you've forgotten
And that's to laugh and smile and dance and sing.
When you're feeling in the dumps
Don't be silly chumps
Just purse your lips and whistle - that's the thing.

And...always look on the bright side of life...
Always look on the light side of life...
For life is quite absurd
And death's the final word
You must always face the curtain with a bow.
Forget about your sin - give the audience a grin
Enjoy it - it's your last chance anyhow.

So always look on the bright side of death
Just before you draw your terminal breath

Life's a piece of shit
When you look at it
Life's a laugh and death's a joke, it's true.
You'll see it's all a show
Keep 'em laughing as you go
Just remember that the last laugh is on you.

And always look on the bright side of life...
Always look on the right side of life...
(Come on guys, cheer up!)
Always look on the bright side of life...
Always look on the bright side of life...
(Worse things happen at sea, you know.)
Always look on the bright side of life...
(I mean - what have you got to lose?)
(You know, you come from nothing - you're going back to nothing.
What have you lost? Nothing!)
Always look on the right side of life...

from Monty Python, image was taken from trishbeeuk.blogspot.com/



Monday, May 14, 2007

hai dan halo

hai halo. saya kembali. setelah hiatus sekian lama karena beratus juta hal, teknis maupun tidak begitu teknis sampe yang dicari-cari. blog saya kembali lagi. dan saya akan menulis lagi. saya janji. sekarang itu dulu lah.

sampai jumpa.
-sie-

Monday, December 04, 2006

put a smile on your face and make the world a better place



i dont need make-ups, or masks, i never do. i just have to smear that paste upon my lips and put on that drawing i made before.
beeyatch.
should i wait a few more days before i really ask? would that make much of a difference?

almost eight, i should go home now. my body's falling apart.
too tired to write, yet i got so many things to scream out.
oh i'm such a very nice girl, am not i?

-sie-

*artwork by Amanda Walujo




Thursday, October 05, 2006

not pretty enough?

Am I not pretty enough
Is my heart too broken
Do I cry too much
Am I too outspoken
Don't I make you laugh
Should I try it harder
Why do you see right through me

I live
I breathe
I let it rain on me
I sleep
I wake
I try hard not to break
I crave
I love
I've waited long enough
I try as hard as I can

chorus

I laugh
I feel
I make believe it's real
I fall
I freeze
I pray down on my knees
I hope
I stand,
I take it like a man
I try as hard as I can

chorus

why do you see
why do you see
why do you see
why do you see right through me

*Kasey Chambers

in the middle of OTAK NGEHANG... sialaaaann padahal minggu depan deadline kerjaan gue baru kelar 10% doang... dan OTAK gue NGEHANG... @nj**G!!
anyway, currently listening to this tune, and it's just me being too sappy but this song really touches.
-sie-

Thursday, September 28, 2006

nyam!

i know who i want to take me home :)
and i think it's beautiful

-sie-

Wednesday, September 27, 2006

addictedtowhat?


I don't wanna get married.
I just want to feel loved for the rest of my life until I die.
If marriage means a way to keep the one you love from leaving you when they feel like leaving you and they want to leave you because they no longer love you anymore and no longer loving you would mean that they would stop sharing and giving love to you and making you feel loved,
Then I don't wanna get married.
I want to feel loved for the rest of my life until I die.
You can go as far as you want,
You can drift away and never come back
I will not hold myself from wanting to feel loved for the rest of my life until I die.

-sie-

*picture was taken from the Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind

Sunday, September 24, 2006

I should be thinking about some other more important questions in life but I cant stop myself thinking about these...

How do you define infidelity? How do you define unfaithfulness? Does holding hand in hand with the opposite sex other than your partner means that you are unfaithful? Does thinking of having sex with another person makes you unfaithful? Does seeing pornographic material or some show in the chatroom means that you are not faithful to your partner? Does looking at some girl or boy masturbating in the webcam for you can be defined as unfaithful?
How about cybersex?
How about phonesex?
Or some fucking sms-sex, whatever that means...
Okay, let's change the question.
What does fidelity mean anyway?
Is there actually such concept in life?
Answer
Answer
Answer please

-sie-

Friday, September 22, 2006

Ramadan


I used to love this song so much when I was a kid, aged six or seven. I remember, I used to listen to this song every ramadan, played in my dad working room, always after he had finished his Tarawih pray (he didnt usually do his Tarawih pray in the mosque) and read some Koran verses. He always played this Bimbo song, 'Rindu Kami Padamu' along with other Bimbo's songs of course. But this song was the one I love the best. Back then, I thought the song was beautiful, It describes one's love for his prophet, his longing to feel the sincere and peaceful love of his prophet. I still think that it is a beautiful song.

Rindu Kami Padamu

Rindu kami padamu ya rasul rindu tiada terperi
berabad jarak darimu ya rasul
serasa dikau di sini

cinta ikhlasmu pada manusia
bagai cahaya suarga
dapatkah kami membalas cintamu
secara bersahaja

rindu kami padamu ya rasul
rindu tiada terperi
berabad jarak darimu ya rasul
serasa dikau di sini

cinta ikhlasmu pada manusia
bagai cahaya suarga
dapatkah kami membalas cintamu
secara bersahaja


Back then, when I used to listen to this song, I never knew that there are people that would threat me to death if I wont cover my body with their so called 'decent' clothes, if I speak up my mind and trying to question things that I think need to be questioned, if I try to find answers with my own efforts and wont surrender myself to their rigid and unquestionable rules, if I want to love my God, and my prophet with my own way.
I wonder, if Muhammad still alive, would he want to kill me too like all those people?
I might know nothing about Muhammad but if those evil people who want to behead other people because they are different to them really believe that whatever they're doing is within the guidelines of Muhammad and the religion he taught us (with all their jargons of jihad and bagaimana mereka meneladani Muhammad), I dont think I would want to have such an evil and violent prophet to guide my way.
I prefer a more peaceful and loving prophet.
Maybe it's just a matter of interpretation.

Happy Ramadan, everyone.

-sie-

Friday, September 08, 2006

absurd sekali hidup ini yah?

baby, yes you baby, one that i love really really dear...
i'm only twelve while you are eighteen
every single thing that excites me is just another mundane for you
this you already knew, that you found unsurprising
been there done that
you said
well
no baby
i havent been there and that i havent done
baby baby baby
if it's for me, would you want to do stupid things and
pretend that it is so excitingly new for you too?
then we can drown ourselves in thrill
while holding hand together looking one to another
before we close our eyes together
anticipating the waves of fun swept us overjoyed?

-sie-

Monday, September 04, 2006

commenting and trackback have been added to this blog.

Sunday, September 03, 2006

the dining dead

Dinner at Kang's again. Are we like those poor couples, you feel sorry for in the restaurant? Are we the dining dead? I cant stand the idea of us being a couple people think that about…
Joel : How's the chicken?
Clementine : Good. More?
Joel : No. No. Thank you.
*taken from Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind

Days and days and weeks and here comes the year. Of constant talking. Some say it is called communication. And communication is the key to the healthy relationship. It helps you to know each other better. But constantly talking doesn't necessarily means communicating. And if you keep on talking and talking and talking and explaining and opening your self up, whatever will happen when everything is all exposed? Done exposed? Period. All your thoughts then got all dug up, all your point of views and beliefs and stances got all unfurled and arrayed, all your cute little hidden dreams got all discovered, all your biggest fears, all your most shameful experiences? Whatever will happen next? What will make me think that YOU are interesting baby? All that interesting about you I already know. You are like this one my very favorite book. My most favorite book of all. I read you over and over and over and over again, I drowned myself in your crazy and wicked adventures again and again and again, now I even know every fucking single detail of the story of the book, every hidden corner, every dialogue the characters make, like I can even tell everything about the book without even reading it, with my eyes closed. Like, I know what will happen next to the hero, what will he say next and how he will get his victory. Then, baby, tell me, even though that book is my favorite book, will I still consider it interesting if I already know everything about the book? Of course I wont discard that book, because I love that book so much, but I would probably just leave the book in my book shelf, while beginning to look for something interesting to read. Not necessarily needs to be more interesting, for I know that I might not find some other book that really suits my interest like that my one favorite book, but you know... some other book that will give me something new interesting things to dig out, to discover, to unfurl...

Honey I am so lost in this thought. Help me out?

-sie-

Monday, August 28, 2006

automendification machine


I own this machine called an automendification machine.
Like its name, it works by automatically mend things
that are in need to be mended.
For its fuel, it uses anything in me that can be burnt.
picture was taken from: www.kcdawncreation.com
-sie-

depressive senseless irritation and endless furious aggravation

I say. Just kill me. Kill me quick and painless. Get over this phrenic bursting rollercoaster already. Stop torturing me every fucking single month with this depressive senseless irritation and endless furious aggravation. After writing a full page of tirade which contained exactly forty-three 'bitch' words in it and ninety-eight 'fuck/fucking' words addressed to my beloved roommate (only of course I would not want to post the writing here for the sake of avoiding some unnecessary and rather unworthy friction) and getting so raged when my boyfriend actually used the word 'expendable' to justify his argument why he thinks it is rational for him to risk his own life by dragging wherever he goes his fellow soldier's dead flesh when he's in the middle of the war (ah, the fucking long debate that I think would even be too long to be put here, well maybe later some other time). Not too mention, impulsively spending more than forty thousand rupiahs just for food today. And gotten really fucking sappily overdramatic when my boyfriend didn't call, frigging really sensitive and irritated with someone else's laughter, and had made five slaughter plans in my head today for five different persons that I found really got into my nerves today. And I feel stupid and I feel that nobody likes me and I seriously think that my boyfriend should come here and give me a hug and say sweet things to me. HAH! But of course that wouldn't happen. I want to slit some throats. One of my friends just said that he had a sore throat. Why, my friend, why don't you come here and show that velvety throat to me, maybe I can do you a favor to get rid off your sore. See, if I slit your throat, you won’t feel any sore no more. Now for that I can be one hundred percent sure.

-arghed me-

Wednesday, August 23, 2006

something surreal in the morning

merokok dji sam soe jam enam pagi dengan cahaya kamar redup redup gimana gitu membuat review CD Sitting On Anything Cold dan sebuah band death metal bernama death vomit (heck why do people really love to groooowwwlll in death metal, dont they know that dead people dont groooowwwwwllll? dead people are dead, what else do you expect???), jempol agak sedikit dingin dingin beku butuh kehangatan gitu, dengan teman sekamar yang setengah telanjang lagi berpelukan sama teman tidurnya. i hope they dont wake up. oh please dear lord dont let them wake up and wiggle again. nap. exactly, the power of wishing something for not happening, they tend to happen. shit. and they wiggle again. right beside me. like um fifteen centimetres next to me. and they wiggle. wiggle. wiggle. hands everywhere. shit. i cant help but notice. oh dear lord please let me concentrate on this guy's groooowwwll in my PC's speakers, whatever it is that he's grooooowwwwl-ing about. fuck. i cant. oh they change position. i want to choke my roommate's neck. nah. dont have the right to. just smoke again baby smoke. hey i make love better than her. i make better move. fuck. concentrate here, sisie. hey what if i join them?. PLAK. i slap my own head. smokesmokesmokesmoke again. oh dead guy from the cd how i love that u are growling.

-sie-