Losing Cause

Have you ever felt like losing your very existence, all at once? Like how you’re even still doing things that people expect, while you can somehow steer yourself off of it in a snap?

It’s h-3 to my first ever national championship of what i do well. Not saying that i’m great, i just happen to be the only person that ABLE to do so, therefore i have to.

At first i was thrilled, excited, curious as hell. But as time goes, and it’s getting near the D-day, things are..different. You get to know more people, you get new knowledge, people start to open up to you more, expectation goes up like raging fire, but you yourself are tired of it.

There’s even some days that i feel like “do these people want something from me in return? Can’t i just passionately do what i do?”. I keep asking, till one day one of my colleague said “there’s no passion in your words from today’s performance. I feel like you’re forced to do it. What happened?”. I smiled.

Exactly the only sentence i don’t want myself to believe. 

The only thing that keeps my gear moving is this one particular lady. A co-worker of mine. I haven’t write about her have i?

She’s an odd ball, i tell you (chuckle). She’s simply what i need on my nearest, and furthest future. Gotta work on her to adjust a few thing, but it’s okay. We’re growing, steadily, firmly.

I guess that’s it. Another milestone for myself to read one day.

Cheers.

Telling you how i want to be with you is like asking can we simply dance instead of walking. It is indeed fun, exhaustingly fun. Yet somehow ridiculous for everyone around us.

me

It is spoken out loud. Didn’t you hear?

Listen to me. I wrote too many poems for you even in a language i haven't come to understand, Poem i made that give answer to you, made out of lies cause i think it's easier to tell you "i know what you feel" than "i know what you need". I lied when i said i give you a freedom to choose, who said i'm able to give you honesty? I didn't come to, i never did, entered your life and try to pry open what you think, you feel, you tried, you pried, you lose, you fuck. Remember? You did. So listen to me. This is not the first time. One. Sarah tried to run from her remains and stay to kiss in comfort and for a month she gave me kiss, and a goodbye. Two. Tiara gave away her crown, let me become alpha in the landful of jealousy.  she was beneath me adoring, praying and lifting me up so i can see what's on the other side of her head. It was someone else. Three. Five. Eight. Thirteen, and i finally understand, love didn't do this to me, it was time. I found out that time was personal yet it is publicly announced. This time i stop loving. I teach myself first not to know you from outside, but to know us from inside. This time i'll stop picking a fight. I'll find a way to win our fight.

Because Sometimes, We’re Not Us

We're kinda hold dear our primitive side of our brain.

Back then we don’t have facts, we’re frail, we’re stupid. Therefore we feel. We felt that mammoth is dangerous, we felt that certain plant is edible. We feel. Then came knowledge, we’re getting there but not quite. We started thinking. Then came knowledge once more, we are now thinking. But no, not quite.

We develop, while holding on to our primitive brain. It make sure that we feel first, and think second. But we know by the daily basis feeling could be wrong. We know. But somehow never get to understand. Then how to switch it out, you ask?

Give it time. Let the feeling department finish their business. Gather facts. Think.

“What you are afraid of is never as bad as what you imagine. The fear you let build up in your mind is worse than the situation that actually exists.” - Spencer Johnson

on feelings alone i can sense my very being are no point to thee.

combined it with seeing, i know more than enough that this world doesn't serve a bowl fit enough for ambiguous atmosphere i create when we were both stand still, wait, and expect things.

"It is always easier to fool others when you have already fooled yourself"

for years i've been living in front of those words, nailed on a wall in front of my eyes. I just never realized i need only one step back to read it clearly.

But i ripped the paper instead.

made a pile out of it.

rearranged it to a shape of a heart.

only to find it blown by wind without ever finished it's form.

I'm not gloomy, you dipshit. I'm just being reaaally deep sometimes.

Me

Lies

Lies. Lies lies lies lies, lies. It was started as an overwhelming imagination as a child, an unbearable desire to socialize, of how i don't believe i worth to belong and being -- i started lying, everyday. Whether it is about your kamehame capability, your super-featured (imaginative) toys, your extravagant holidays, a ghost in your room, anything.

Then later you know exactly people did the same, thus, "let's see who convince whom", happened. To convince, we need facts. That time, google was not even there to collect facts, so with every single brain cells we got, we went and make ones. We made the facts real inside our head, we forced ourself to believe our imagination. Only then it will come out smoothly. The lies, i meant.

Do that for a day, no prob. A week, getting used to it. A month, it's getting smoother. And a year, you are getting delusional. Believing what's not, grey matters on your head shrinking, replaced by imagination enzymes, stuck there, and get lost in thoughts.

Yes, i went there. Glory days when lies are easier, livelier. Real world doesn't seems so bad after that time.

It was rather painful and weirder.

And nothing's going to change that helpless feeling. I get when you say you'll understand and I know you can't

Circa Survive - Dyed in the Wool

To Decide

If i am asked how i put this year into a word, it would be.. Decision.

2013 was the year where i decided my leaps, my own milestone. I decided how long i'll take formal education, on what age to take a professional career, and even on what age i'll marry (pfft, i don't even have a gf) and have my own business.

"The man who makes everything that leads to happiness depends upon himself, and not upon other men, has adopted the very best plan for living happily." - plato

Yep, all these in order to live in happines.

I remember when i started 2013 with experimenting a few coffee brewing methods. That time, i have only one tool, which is a cheap french press i bought with my birthday's allowance a few months back. Hell, i don't even have a thermometer to make sure my coffee won't burnt by the boiled water. It was fun, and it's still does. Therefore, i continue on experimenting.

This is the year when i decided to do my thesis earlier. I need a new adventure.

This is the year when i decided to *finally* take a freelance job. I'll work on two places when i got out from uni. I'll work even harder to reach my goals.

This is the year i when i decided to take my path into coffee specialty as my Plan A. A small stepping stone, but needed for my nation.

Tears will be made. Sweat will be wasted. Bloods will be spilled.

But I want to get out of this place real soon, only to miss this place, once again. And i would like to take you there.

Geof Huth poetry.

Storm of Silent Claps

We know very well we ascend from womb as a unique, even to something as how we respond to surroundings. But we do have something in common: we're bound to clap our hands when we're excited. Even the first coordinated thing you can do as a baby is clapping, and then your parents relate the clapping to happiness, accomplishments, thrills....excitements.

On 6th century B.C., a king replaced his people's individual greet to the king as an act of honor, with a storm of claps when the king is present. On early 19th century, people would clap with such manner, to unspokenly accept a score that being played well to the composer.

It's easier, polite, needs no effort, and it's so simple such as that we can't even guess whether it is coming from a man, a woman, young, old, black, white, rich, poor, liberals, republicans, hippies, losers, winners. Equals.

So i wondered -every single time- when i'm excited seeing you from afar.

Would it be nice if i can just clap my admiration from way down here?

From When the Black Drops Started Dripping

It started long ago, when dad's still around an kickin'. Mom and dad would wake up early for work, and they will never, ever, missed their cafe latte, and talk about things they like, plans, or maybe simply predicting today's traffic jam that most likely to happen if they didn't lift their ass off the couch soon. But they'll just sit back anyways.

It's quite understandable since both of them work 7-5, and always trapped in traffic every single day. So they obviously, could hardly talk about delightful things when their body gave up once they got home.

And there sit both of my sis taking tea, or maybe milk, as long as it's light enough to their so-so tummy early in the morning. They too, attend a school that were pretty afar. So waking up early and join this 'morning ceremony' is unavoidable, though most of the time, they sit pretty far from mom and dad cause they just can't really bear unworldly language for teenagers. Figures.

Then there's me. A spoiled kid, clings to his dad and do nothing like there's no tomorrow. I'd cry and beg them to take me to their office when they're about to departed. It was hella noisy every morning alright. *giggle*

Then all the crying and begging would end up as they took me inside the car, take me to our residential entrance, then i came down, and we part ways. For as long as i can remember i was pretty sure their office was near, cause yeah, they said so only to make me rest assured.

After making sure i won't cry on the side of the street, they'd say "i'll bring you your favourite magz/food when we're home tonight, kay?". (Then they went, and i went home using becak.) So why, from those morning cups of coffee, milk, or tea, then the story changed all the way to my childhood, you ask?

Cause back then it wasn't about coffee. Back then was minutes for crying loud and being a proper spoiled child to my parents. Back then was a treasure i voluntarily made for myself to remember.

And today i took my morning ceremony. And today i took my coffee. For today a man is a destination to be.

One day in alaska.

October

Rains.

Humid.

Get Sick.

Refreshed.

Pains.

Shocked.

Tears.

Laughs.

Struggles.

Birthday.

Live well, suckers.and happy birthday.

Something like this maybe.. Or an owl, still.