Farewell, Satou-sama

Copy pasted from a translation by Makiko Itoh, thanks for translating and sharing this with the world, I am forever indebted.. -I tried leaving comment on your website but seem unable to find the comment button-

for everyone else, this document is Satoshi Kon's last words before his passing..




Sayonara (Goodbye)

How could I forget, May 18th of this year.

I received the following pronouncement from a cardiovascular doctor at Musashino Red Cross Hospital.

"It's the latter stages of pancreatic cancer. It's metastasized to several bones. You have at the most half a year left to live."

My wife and I listened together. It was a fate so unexpected and untenable, that the two of us together could barely take it.

I used to honestly think that "I can't help it if I die any day." Still, it was so sudden.

To be sure, there were some signs. 2 to 3 months before that I'd had strong pains in several places on my back and in the joints of my legs; I'd lost strength in my right leg and found it hard to walk, and I'd been going to an acupuncturist and a chiropractor, but I wasn't getting any better. So after having been examined in an MRI and a PET-CT and such advanced machinery, came the sudden pronouncement of the time I had left.

It was as if death had positioned itself right behind me before I knew it, and there was nothing I could do.

After the pronouncement, my wife and I researched ways to prolong my life. It was literally a life or death situation. We received the support of staunch frends and strong allies. I rejected anti-cancer medication, and tried to live with a view of the world slightly different from the norm. The fact that I rejected what was "expected (normal)" seemed to me to be very much like me.

I've never really felt that I belonged with the majority. It was the same for medical care, as with anything else. "Why not try to keep living according to my own principles!" However, as is the case when I'm trying to create a work [a film], ones willpower alone didn't do the job. The illness kept progressing day by day.

On the other hand, as a member of society, I do accept at least half of what society in general holds to be right. I do pay taxes. I'm far from being an upstanding citizen, but I am a full member of Japanese society. So, aside from the things I needed to do to prolong my life from my own point of view, I also attempted to do all the things necessary to "be ready to die properly". I don't think I managed to do it properly though. (But) one of the things I did was, with the cooperation of 2 friends that I could trust, set up a company to take care of things like the measly number of copyrights that I hold. Another thing that I did was, to insure that my wife would take over any modest assets that I had smoothly by writing a will. Of course, I didn't think there would be any fighting over my legacy or anything, but I wanted to make sure that my wife, who would remain behind in this world, would have nothing to worry about - and besides, I wanted to remove any anxiety from myself, the one who was going to take a little hop over there, before I had to leave.

The paperwork and research necessary for these tasks, which neither my wife nor I were good at doing, were taken care of speedily by wonderful friends. Later on, when I developed pneumonia and was at death's door, and put my final signature on the will, I thought that if I died right then and there, it couldn't be helped.

"Ah...I can die at last."

After all, I'd been brought by ambulance to the Musashino Red Cross Hospital 2 days before that; then brought back again to the same hospital by ambulance the day after. Even I had to be hospitalized and undergo many examinations. The result of those examinations: pneumonia, water in my chest, and when I asked the doctor [straight out], the answer I received was very businesslike, and I was in a way grateful for that.

"You may last 1 or 2 days...even if you survive this, you probably have until the end of the month."

As I listened, I thought "It's like he's telling me the weather forecast", but still the situation was dire.

That was July the 7th. It was a rather brutal Tanabata for sure.

So, I decided right there and then.

I wanted to die at home.

I might inconvenience the people around me, but I asked them to see how I could escape and go back home. [I was able to do so] thanks to my wife's efforts, the hospital's cooperation despite their position of having given up on me, the tremendous help of other medical facilities, and the coincidences that were so numerous that they only seemed to be gifts from heaven. I've never seen so many coincidences and events falling into place so neatly in real life, I could barely believe it. This wasn't Tokyo Godfathers after all.

While my wife was running around getting things in place for my escape, I was pleading with doctors "If I can go home for even half a day, there are things I can still do!", then waiting alone in the depressing hospital room for death. I was lonely, but this was what I was thinking.

"Maybe dying won't be so bad."

I didn't have any reasons for it, and perhaps I needed to think like that, but I was surprisingly calm and relaxed.

However, there was just one thought that was gnawing away at me.

"I don't want to die here..."

As I thought that, something moved out from the calendar on the wall and started to spread around the room.

"Oh dear, a line marching out from the calendar. My　hallucinations aren't at all original."

I had to smile at the fact at my professional instincts were working even at times like this, but in any case I was probably the nearest to the land of the dead that I'd ever been at that point. I really felt death very close to me. [But] with the help of many people, I miraculously escaped Musashino Red Cross and came back home, wrapped up in the land of the dead and bedsheets.

I should emphasize that I have no criticism of or hatred for Musashino Red Cross Hospital, so don't misconstrue me.

I just wanted to go home to my own house. The house where I live.

I was a little surprised that, when I was being carried into my living room, as a bonus, I experienced that deathbed experience everyone is familiar with of "looking down on your body being carried into the room from a place high above". I was looking down on myself and the scene around me from a position several meters above ground, through a wide-angle-ish lens and flash lighting. The square of the bed in the middle of the room seemed very large and prominent, and my sheet-wrapped body was being lowered into the middle of the square. None too gently it seemed, but I'm not complaining.

So, all I had to do was to wait for death in my own home.

However.

It seems that I was able to overcome the pneumonia.

Eh?

I did think like this, in a way.

"I didn't manage to die! (laugh)"

Afterwards, when I could think of nothing else but death, I thought that I did indeed die once then. In the back of my mind, the world "reborn" wavered several times.

Amazingly, after then my life-force was rejuvenated. From the bottom of my heart, I believe this is due to the people who helped me; first and foremost my wife, and my supportive friends, the doctors and nurses, and the care managers.

Now that my life-force had been restarted, I couldn't waste my time. I told myself that I'd been given an extra life, and that I had to spend it carefully. So I thought that I wanted to erase at least one of the irresponsibilities that I'd left behind in this world.

To be truthful, I'd only told the people closest to me about the cancer. I hadn't even told my parents. In particular, because of various work-related complications, I couldn't say anything (to people) even if I wanted to. I wanted to announce my cancer on the internet and report on my remaining life, but if Satoshi's death was scheduled, there might be some waves made, however small. For these reasons, I acted very irresponsibly to people clear to me. I am so sorry.

There were so many people that I wanted to see before I died, to say even one word of greeting to. Family and relatives, old friends and classmates from elementary and middle and high school, the mates I met in college, the people I met in the manga world, with whom I exchanged so much inspiration, the people in the anime world whose desks I sat next to, went drinking with, with whom I competed on on the same works, the mates with whom I shared good and bad times. The countless people I was able to know because of my position as a film director, the people who call themselves my fans not only in Japan but around the world, the friends I'd made via the web.

There are so many people that I want to see at least once (well there are some I don't want to see too), but if I see them I'm afraid that that the thought that "I can never see this person again" will take me over, and that I wouldn't be able to greet death gracefully. Even if I had recovered, I had very little life force left, and it took a lot of effort to see people. The more people wanted to see me, the harder it was for me to see them. What irony. In addition, my lower body was paralyzed due to the cancer spreading to my bones, and I was prone on my bed, and I didn't want people to see my emaciated body. I wanted most of the people I knew to remember me as the Satoshi that was full of life.

I'd like to use this space to apologize to my relatives, friends and acquaintances, for not telling you about my cancer, for my irresponsibility. Please understand that this was Satoshi's selfish desire. I mean, Satoshi Kon was "that kind of guy". When I envision your faces, I only have good memories and remember (your) great smiles. Everyone, thank you for all the truly great memories. I loved the world I lived in. Just the fact that I can think that makes me happy.

The many people that I met throughout my lifetime, whether they were positive or negative, have helped to shape the human being that is Satoshi Kon, and I am grateful for all of those encounters. Even if the end result is an early death in my mid 40s, I've accepted this as my own unique destiny. I've had so many positive things happen to me after all.

The thing I think about death now. "I can only say, it's too bad." Really.

However, even though I can let go of many of my irresponsible actions [by not telling people], I cannot help regretting two things. About my parents, and about Madhouse [founder] Maruyama-san.

Even though it was rather late, there was no choice but to come clean with the whole truth. I wanted to beg them for forgiveness.

As soon as I saw Maruyama-san's face when he came to see me at home, I couldn't stop the flow of tears or my feeling of shame. "I'm so sorry, for ending up like this..." Maruyama-san said nothing, and just shook his head and gripped both my hands. I was filled with thankfulness. Feelings of gratitude and joy, that I'd been lucky enough to work with this person, came over me like a landslide. It may be selfish, but I felt as though I had been forgiven in that instant.

My biggest regret is the film "Dreaming Machine". I'm worried not only about the film itself, but about the staff with whom I was able to work with on the film. After all, there's a strong possibility that the storyboards that were created with (our) blood, sweat and tears will never be seen. This is because Satoshi Kon put his arms around the original story, the script, the characters and the settings, the sketches, the music...every single image. Of course there are things that I shared with the animation director, the art director and other staff [members], but basically most of the work can only be understood by Satoshi Kon. It's easy to say that it was my fault for arranging things this way, but from my point of view I made every effort to share my vision with others. However, in my current state I can only feel deep remorse for my inadequacies in these areas. I am really sorry to all of the staff. However, I want them to understand, if only a little bit. Satoshi Kon was "that kind of guy", and, that's why he was able to make rather weird anime that was a bit different. I know this is a selfish excuse, but think of my cancer and please forgive me.

I haven't been idly waiting for death, even now I'm thinking with my weak brain of ways to let the work live even after I am gone. But they are all shallow ideas. When I told Maruyama-san about my concerns about "Dreaming Machine", he just said "Don't worry. We'll figure out something, so don't worry."

I wept.

I wept uncontrollably.

Even with my previous movies, I've been so irresponsible with the productions and the budgets, but I always had Maruyama-san figure it out for me in the end.

This time is no different. I really haven't changed.

I was able to talk to my heart's content with Maruyama-san. Thanks to this, I was able to feel, at least a little, that Satoshi Kon's talents and skills were of some value in our industry.

"I regret losing your talent. I wish that you were able to leave it for us."

If Madhouse's Maruyama-san says that, I can go to the netherworld with a little bit of self-pride after all. And of course, even without anyone else telling me this, I do feel regret that my weird visions and ability to draw things in minute detail will be lost, but that can't be helped. I am grateful from the bottom of my heart that Maruyama-san gave me the opportunity to show the world these things. Thank you, so very much. Satoshi Kon was happy as an animation director.

It was so heartbreaking to tell my parents.

I'd really intended to go up to Sapporo, where my parents live, while I was still able to, but my illness progressed so unexpectedly and annoyingly fast that I ended up calling them on the telephone from the hospital room as I was closest to death.

"I'm in the late stages of cancer and will die soon. I was so happy being born as a child to Father and Mother. Thank you."

They must have been devastated to hear this out of the blue, but I was certain I was going to die right then.

But then I came back home and survived the pneumonia. I made the big decision to see my parents. They wanted to see me too. But it was going to be so hard to see them, and I didn't have the will to. But I wanted to see my parents' faces one last time. I wanted to tell them how grateful I was that they brought me into this world.

I've been a happy person. Even though I must apologize to my wife, my parents and all the people that I love, that lived out my life a bit too faster than most.

My parents followed my selfish wishes, and came the next day from Sapporo to my house. I can never forget the first words out of my mother's mouth when she saw me lying there.

"I'm so sorry, for not bringing you into this world with a stronger body!"

I was completely speechless.

I could only spend a short time with my parents, but that was enough. I had felt that if I saw their faces, that it would be enough, and it really turned out that way.

Thank you, Father, Mother. I am so happy that I was born into this world as the child of the both of you. My heart is full of memories and gratitude. Happiness itself is important, but I am so grateful that you taught me to appreciate happiness. Thank you, so very much .

It's so disrespectful to to die before ones parents, but in the last 10 plus years, I've been able to do what I want as an anime director, achieve my goals, and get some good reviews. I do feel regret that my films didn't make a lot of money, but I think they got what they deserved. In these last 10 plus years in particular I've felt as though I've lived more intensively than other people, and I think that my parents understood what was in my heart.

Because of the visits by Maruyama-san and my parents, I feel as though I've taken a big burden off my shoulders.

Lastly, to my wife, about whom I worry the most, but who has been my support until the end.

Since that time-left pronouncement, we drowned ourselves in tears together so many times. Every day was brutal for both of us, physically and mentally. There are almost no words for it. But the reason why I was able to survive those difficult days was because of the words that you said to me right after we received the news.

"I'll be at your side [run with you] until the end."

True to those words, as though you were leaving my worries in the dust, you skillfully directed the demands and requests that came rushing towards us like a landslide, and quickly learned how to take care of your husband. I was so moved, watching you deal with things so efficiently.

"My wife is awesome."

No need to keep saying that now, you say? No no. You are even more awesome now than you ever were - I truly feel this. Even after I have died, I believe that you will send Satoshi Kon to the next world with grace. Ever since we got married, I was so wrapped up in "Work, work" that I was only able to spend some time at home after the cancer - such a shame.

But you stood close to me, you always understood that I needed to immerse myself in my work, that my talent was there. I was happy. Truly happy. During my life, and as I wait for death, I just can't express my gratitude to you enough. Thank you.

There are so many things, countless things, that I worry about, but everything needs an end. Lastly, to Doctor H who agreed to see me to the end in my home, even though it's something not done these days, and his wife and nurse, K-san, I would like to express my deep gratitude. Medical care in a private home is very inconvenient, but you patiently dealt with the numerous aches and pains that cancer brings on, and endeavores to make my time until the final goal called death be as comfortable as possible. I can't say how much you helped me. And you didn't just deal with this difficult and arrogant patient as if it were just your jobs, but communicated with me as human beings. I cannot say how much of a support you were to me, and how much you saved me. I was encouraged by your qualities as human beings several times. I am deeply deeply grateful.

And, this is really the last, but from shortly after I received that pronouncement in mid-May until now, I've been lucky to have the cooperation, help and mental support, both personally and in business, from 2 friends. My friend T, who has been a friend since high school and is a member of KON'Stone Inc, and producer H, I thank you both from the bottom of my heart. Thank you so much. It's hard for me with my measly vocabulary to express my gratitude adequately to you both. My wife and I have both received so much from you.

If you two hadn't been there for us, I am sure that I'd be anticipating death while looking at my wife here as she sits by my side with considerably more trepidation and worry. I am really in your debt.

And, if I may ask you for one more thing - could you help my wife send me over to the other side after my death? I'd be able to get on that flight with my mind at rest if you could do that for me. I ask this from my heart.

So, to everyone who stuck with me through this long document, thank you. With my heart full of gratitude for everything good in the world, I'll put down my pen.

Now excuse me, I have to go.

Satoshi Kon

happy belated birthday, Kurt Vonnegut

from thisisnthappiness

of husband and wife and the generation that follows

at such level of spirituality.. let me revise that.. at such level of spiritual enlightenment, followed by rapid heartbeats and the constantly ever changing background soundtrack playing continuously during the process, I stumbled..

and here at mediocre level of spirituality.. let me revise that.. at average level of mental enlightenment and carefree nature I write.

perplexing on the complex and perpetual flow of Naruto comic book, of the possible repetitive events preceded by a series of past events on human relation I reconnects.

on the seemingly inescapable fate, co started by something that the next generation should pay attention to, evaluate, and comprehend to innately do in conscience, I come up with points of husband and wife and the generation that follows

1. you can't force it
2. what should not be together should not be together
3. human like human should will gather all the best notion in their life to come up with the most logical explanation why things works and vice versa, that is of course in the absence of self righteousness
4. inescapable fate can be avoided with enough understanding that such thing can be avoided
5. these of course, should be followed by real actions preceded by thoughtful manners
6. and if things go wrong, it's never too late
7. try to understand as you equally wanted to be understood
8. you are never a victim

and finally
9. you might have done something terribly wrong with your decision, wishing to press control z, but let's face it, you might have only done something stupid.. and some stupid things are usually funny, in a way


:)


with this I decided to end my bachelorhood, and ask someone's daughter to be together with me till death do us part..

let's hope I'm only doing something stupid..

where it remains

It was raining, and there she was standing. The wind was soft, and the lights falling on the sidewalks loomed over her umbrella. She was wearing a skirt with a bright yellow sunflower pattern. Her white shirt was wet. I noticed that she had cut her hair short, but the eyes behind the glasses were clear as always, as bright as the sun in the morning.

Bayu said he didn't want to sit with any girl and complained how annoying they'd get with their stupid colorful pens, bags, books and stuff. But I'd sit with her. I'd sit with her through all the subjects in the fourth grade if I had too, including math. I wished we went to the same school.

I get to see her once a week, every Sunday at the free traditional dance class provided by the local government in the city area, thirty minutes by bus from our school. Sunday, for me back then, was the best day of the week. Bayu would bring some home-made foods cooked by her mom, and I would get some bites, sometimes more. Dancing doesn't need shoes and my sandals were just two month old.

And I still remember the way she danced, moving quietly like the night. At 12 o'clock every Sunday her parents would come and pick her up and for two seconds, just two seconds, you got to see her smile. You got to see her run to the open car door. You got to see her go, disappear around the corner; an end to start another beginning, a week long of waiting for another dance class.

It was two o'clock and it was raining. She stood there with her umbrella. Bayu's mum had picked him up. I sat there as if waiting, pretending that someone would pick me up. But all I could see was her, standing there with her umbrella. The rain carried by the wind fell soft on the sidewalk.

I was a dull boy; sport was never my cup of tea. I though I was a good sketcher, coloring with crayons was a lot of fuss. My marks had fallen like dead soldiers in the Belgian war since the beginning of this term, but I didn't care.

Our dad had left us several months before, after a big fight with mom, he never returned. And for me, that's a good enough reason to stop studying all together, pretending to be some fucked up little kid instead of just a lazy little donkey.

My only source of entertainment was the rain, sometimes heavy and sometimes soft, that fell all afternoon. It was, after all, the rainy season and the smell of the wet soil, the fog in the mountain feet, the waving green trees at a distance from the window, they're begging for my attention.

To tell the truth, the fourth grade was not much of a fun than the fifth. It's funny that the class is actually a bit smaller, funny, because in a way we were getting bigger.

Bayu said that his friend Rudy knew her friend and that her name was Tanya. A weird name if you speak Bahasa. You asked her name and you get Tanya. I guessed that her parents loved to play tricks.

To describe her in color, she was a yellowish-white. A lot of yellowish-whites roam the city. The toy store on the fifth street has older yellowish-white and even yellowish parents, pale wrinkled creatures. But this yellowish-white was special, she shone. And Bayu was the blackest living skinny kid alive. I for sure was a caf* latte brown with some peanut specs covered in dust, but who cares? I certainly don't.

I once saw her without glasses on. She said she wanted to wash her face, and I, out of whatever it was, stole a way out of the class and followed her from a distance. And she removed her glasses, took the running water and washed her face. At exactly 4 meters away she looked at me, with her beautiful two eyes, directly at me. After what I thought was a hint of smile, she looked away, in the most elegant of ways. My heart melted in my knees, and that was the end of me.

But apparently not, because after three months of joining this God condemned dance class, I finally got the chance to talk to her. It was two o'clock and she was there, her friends already leaving. The rain was shimmering and there was no sign of a car arriving from any corner. "I'm going to say hi", I thought.

There's a big tree shading the main street 10 minutes before the dance hall. It was the biggest tree I've ever seen in my life. Bayu said that it was probably because we're so small and that everything else seemed bigger or taller or farther. That in five years it would just be a tree, nothing special.

Everything looked so big and amazing when we're kids, and when we grow up, things will start to get the way they are, making us bored, and people start killing themselves.

Tanya, with her tiny little fingers washing her face, was like that tree to me, and I'm going to leave it at that.

Bayu's friend Rudi said that his friend told him that Tanya lives in one of the houses behind the Empat Lima football field, that her parents were rich and that she's got a brother who's got the latest Nintendo. He said that his friend said that Tanya is good at Tetris. I was a genius at hide and seek, and with her apparently a master at Tetris, whatever Tetris was, we must be suited to each other.

And she's great at Gambyong, we could one day dance together. People would see us and say how great we are - Tanya and me.

So baring these things in mind I stood up. It was raining but what the hell, I'm wearing sandals anyway. Water dripped from branches above the gate opposing the hall and there she was, with her short hair waving and her ever-lively eyes.

I stood a meter away from her after crossing the wet street. There was no contact until, suddenly, I slipped.

"Heeh!!" she screamed, almost worried.

I wasn't a skater or a funambulist, but I did get myself a hole in my right thigh with a twelve centimeter twig two months before Christmas simply because I failed in my impersonation of Tarzan, falling from a ledge of a gutter and regretting the futile effort of clinging to a half rotten banana tree.

"I'm okay, thanks!" I thanked God for not letting me fall on my butt.

She laughed, it was contagious. I laughed too. That's it, I'm going to marry this girl and we're going to have lots of kids.

"You're Dhika right?"

She knew my name! How in the hell would she know me? Should I ask? I once asked my mother to change the name to Agus, because I had two friends who were Agus and they're both stinking rich, but apparently 27 people in our school were Agus and I had to stick to the quota. Anyways, yes, I'm Dhika.

"Yeah, you're Tanya right?"

"Tanya? No! I'm Mei Ling"

Darn that kid named Rudi. My friend Cahyo had an uncle named Rudi and we once caught him ripping a page from a Dragon Ball manga to wipe his nose. Never trust anyone named Rudi, that's a consensus we made, I can't believe I forgot about it.

"Mei Ling? I was born in May too!"

"That's a Chinese name you stupid," she laughed.

Never before did someone call me stupid and make me happy at the same time. What she did to me was way crazier than Santet, I felt pins and needles in my stomach, sand in my knees, and I laughed like a stupid cow.

I was soaking wet, and as the rain got heavier, I stepped closer under her umbrella. The skin of our hand touched and I felt my heart beat faster by the second - and then her parent's car appeared.

She said goodbye and disappeared behind the closed door. Time stood still but the rain kept falling. The sky was grey but my heart was blooming, it was going to be a long week.

It was the last time I ever saw her. A teacher told Rudi - whom Bayu and I vowed never to trust again - and he told his friend and that friend told us that she had moved to Jakarta with the rest of her family. Though I can see her smiling face every time I closed my eyes, time passed, and she slowly faded away.

...

Adam is calling, started with easy talk about last night's stupid incident and ended with another blind date to set up. What is so wrong with a 29 year old single guy? Absolutely nothing!

"You're going to like her. She's a friend of my wife and she's fun. Her name is Mei Ling," he said on the speaker-phone.

"Okaaaay, seven o'clock tomorrow at the usual cinema," I said uninterested, walking back to the living room.

"Mei Ling huh? She couldn't be born in May, could she?" asked John.

"That's a Chinese name you stupid," I replied.




----------------------------------
the short story was published on The Jakarta Post, Sunday 05/17/2009, I hope you guys like it :)

27

27 years of being a sloppy guy, but a mother loving child, a food mongering bastard, but an easy to please bloke, though I have achieved so much, I have achieved so little. whatever happen I'm happy, and if that isn't nice I dunno what is, and birthday is really what it's all about..

well done me :)

fast forward to yesterday

leave out one decision
and return to tomorrow

but things inevitably get worse
century old science is accounted for
in a way, your decision valid today
and not forever during the span of time

watch the sun goes down..

the waiting

on a singular mind breathe envy
and gap of ocean pride screams singularity
massive destruction to individuals
at the same time repetitively

and these drag onto eternity
with escape gate points to nothing but the sky

in your voiceless dignity
no mistake could stain
in your safely kept self righteous
logic is profanity

and these drag onto eternity
with escape route buried
six feet under

this is your life

after about half a dozen chemo, DIO, the DIO, passed away..

this is my tribute post, may god, if there is any, take him by his side, he should know better how DIO has touched people's life, save them from a damaging possible end, and this is not an overrated statement..




who cares what came before
we were only starlight
one day, then nevermore
because we're whispers in the wind

once upon a time
the world was never blind
like we are

right now it seems
you're only dreams and shadows
if wishes could be eagles how you'd fly

this is your life
this is your time
what if the flame won't last forever
this is your here
this is your now
let it be magical

who cares what came before
we're only starlight

once upon the time
all the world was blind
like we are

this is your life
this is your time
look at your world
this is your life


rest in peace Ronnie James Dio, the world will feel a bit odd without you..

A stupid death

Pain was real, and so was sadness. And happiness was a role play in his mind, begins with a smile and ended with a smile. But I don’t think he feel any of those.

“I befriended him for ages. And still, I have absolutely no idea what goes through his mind,” said Jono about Adry.

Adry, the guy who killed himself last week in his boarding house, was said to be the average usual guy, who loves playing trumpet in the park and drinking beer late at nights with his circle of friends.

Toby recalled they were once found themselves in a hangover state in front of a Circle K in one area in Bandung at eleven A.M., because they were too drunk to find their way home the morning before. All they did were buying beers, bottles of beers, until they’re running out of money. He too was spotted at Adry’s funeral.

His mom cried like a wailing wolf. His dad stood silent beside her.

Thomas, another friend, told me that Adry hated his job, a translator in a small firm in Jakarta. At least it pays enough, he recalled, enough to buy comic books and action figures stacked in the walls of his room.

There were no flies, nor insects. When the cop finally found him two days after his time of death in his room, forcing the door open with a big steel block, his body had already bumpy. He slit his left hand artery opened with a cutter. There were no notes, no recorded message found.

His clothes were piling up like they’ve always been there for months, drawn in a pool of blood that was flowing from his open wound. The room was dusty and the closet doors were open. Cigarette butts were stomped in a bowl turned ashtray beside him, and plastic bags were scattering everywhere.

His MP3 player was charged and hooked up to a computer speaker. It continuously played Counting Crow’s Color Blind.

It was apparent that he drugged himself before the effort. A bottle of sleeping pills were found on the side of his bed, empty, with all the pills gone.

He doesn’t seem to have a motive, a simple 26 year old guy with no record of violence, crime or breakdowns who happened to be found dead in his boarding house.

--------------

But after a month of his death a journal was found, with the last pages of it being the saddest thing I’ve ever read.

“I have come to a decision to end my life,” he started.

“There’s nothing wrong with it yet. I know I can find some reasons latter, but the only thing I could think of now is death.”

On the next page was a picture of a T-shirt, written “I chose death” and an edgy illustration of a chopped off head.

“I came across good people like fairytales, helpful people, but in their minds I know they’re insincere. I know they hate their life,” he wrote on a page dated March 25, a week before his death.

“The Ritz is 250 meters tall. Kempinski is quite tall, but the security is tough, though jumping from it would certainly be a gag, or the TVRI tower? What about the boarding house?” he wrote on a page dated March 27, presumably figuring out that the best way to end his life is by jumping from a high building somewhere.

After a space he wrote, “I could try mixing detergent with Wipol, but I guess it would be painful. Drowning sucks, suffocating is definitely not the best way to do it.”

“I feel nothing. I feel like there’s nothing left for me in this world. I don’t feel like flying or escaping. I don’t think that any of those will get me somewhere. I don’t see anything anymore in the mirror. I think this is the end.” He wrote on a page dated March 31.

He got three calls that day, one from his mom who’s apparently a frequent caller, and two from his girlfriend which according to her were smooth calls, with no hints of a depression.

The girlfriend, as Adry once put it, was a mix between a party queen and a bitch. “There’s the possibility that she’s the town’s bike everybody rides, with the only one who didn’t know was me,” he once said, laughing after seven cans of beer.

“For us his friends, it would be a lie to say that she wasn’t a lot of fun. It does seem that she was always there with him every time and they have always had a good laugh, but I guess we didn’t know it that much,” said Toby.

She was present at the funeral.

When Adry finished high school in 2011, he decided to go to Padjajaran University, Bandung, taking Japanese literature. That’s where we met. He’s a smart kid with peculiarly no ambition whatsoever.

His goal was “to get out of this place.”

But he was a lot of fun, and I was in search of something out of the ordinary. I proclaimed myself as the guy who liked to do crazy stuff and he’s got absolutely nothing against it, we were inseparable throughout those four years of torments and hard works.

I left for Japan in 2015 and we lost contact. And now, four years later, I found him dead.

“Would it make any different if the sun was grey, or if everybody else in this world starts to make some sense?” he wrote on the last page of the book, dated April 10.

“I wish I have a point to this end. I’m just a selfish bastard my whole life after all. I wish I’m killing myself for a better good, for a better reason. But I feel them as abstract as the action itself. I refused to be here or there, being forced into a condition without certainty of what to feel, how to react, what to expect. The world is stale and it keeps turning like an idiot.”

“I don’t expect to go to heaven, nor do I fear of going to hell. I don’t expect to see angels taking me with their wings. I do not wish to remember, or to born a new man. I do not wish to know, I really don’t care. Like a bad movie, I want this to end and fall into a deep slumber, the sweet release of death. The sun might shine. The ocean might continue making that sound and the rest of the universe might expand.”

His final words were “live and let die...” They were on the corner page, and there’s nothing afterwards.

I didn’t know why he killed himself even now. Or where did he go every Tuesday night from eight to ten P.M. for two years throughout college. The more I realize it; the more I think that I really don’t know him after all. All I knew was that he was a good friend.

------------------

Several weeks later I received a call telling me that Adry had joined an insurance program four months before his death, a program that says an amount of money will be given to a pre-decided beneficiaries if he died, dead because of whatever cause, including some clausal that indirectly pointed suicide as the cause of death.

Written in his contract, 70 percent of the money will go to his mother, and the rest of it will go to Greenpeace.

To tell the truth, I think that was the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard in my entire life. I wasn’t laughing hearing the news, I thought of laughing my ass off, but I couldn’t. And I wasn’t crying either. It was stupid, but it wasn’t funny either.

It was bitter, it was a waste of life and I feel pity for that guy. A stupid death.

bagaimana menulis essay untuk beasiswa yang tepat

jika judul diatas adalah pertanyaan, maka saya sebagai orang yang sudah lebih dari tujuh kali lamaran beasiswa nya ditolak sangatlah buta tentang penulisan essay, meski iya memang saya bekerja sebagai penulis dan diwajibkan menulis setidaknya dua artikel setiap hari, pendek maupun panjang.

akan tetapi saya berterimakasih pada MIT dan murid muridnya yang pintar, kemudian pihak militer amrik yang menyempurnakan arpanet dan pak Al Gore yang alhamdulilah punya visi dan duit untuk membiayai pengembangan internet.

saya juga berterimakasih pada dua orang yang secara tidak langsung merupakan bagian penting hidup kita tiap harinya saat ini, Larry Page dan Sergey Brin, yang dengan keisengan mereka membuat saya dapat menemukan beberapa sumber yang memberi gambaran bagaimana sebaiknya menulis essay itu.

berikut sumber dari essayinfo.com

Scholarship Essay

Scholarship essays vary dramatically in subject. However, most of them require a recounting of personal experience. These tips will be more helpful for writing personal essays, like for the National Merit Scholarship, than for writing academic essays.

The most important aspect of your scholarship essay is the subject matter. You should expect to devote about 1-2 weeks simply to brainstorming ideas. To begin brainstorming subject ideas consider the following points. From brainstorming, you may find a subject you had not considered at first.

* What are your major accomplishments, and why do you consider them accomplishments? Do not limit yourself to accomplishments you have been formally recognized for since the most interesting essays often are based on accomplishments that may have been trite at the time but become crucial when placed in the context of your life. This is especially true if the scholarship committee receives a list of your credentials anyway.

* Does any attribute, quality, or skill distinguish you from everyone else? How did you develop this attribute?

* Consider your favorite books, movies, works of art, etc. Have these influenced your life in a meaningful way? Why are they your favorites?

* What was the most difficult time in your life, and why? How did your perspective on life change as a result of the difficulty?

* Have you ever struggled mightily for something and succeeded? What made you successful?

* Have you ever struggled mightily for something and failed? How did you respond?

* Of everything in the world, what would you most like to be doing right now? Where would you most like to be? Who, of everyone living and dead, would you most like to be with? These questions should help you realize what you love most.

* Have you experienced a moment of epiphany, as if your eyes were opened to something you were previously blind to?

* What is your strongest, most unwavering personality trait? Do you maintain strong beliefs or adhere to a philosophy? How would your friends characterize you? What would they write about if they were writing your scholarship essay for you?

* What have you done outside of the classroom that demonstrates qualities sought after by universities? Of these, which means the most to you?

* What are your most important extracurricular or community activities? What made you join these activities? What made you continue to contribute to them?

* What are your dreams of the future? When you look back on your life in thirty years, what would it take for you to consider your life successful? What people, things, and accomplishments do you need? How does this particular scholarship fit into your plans for the future.

memang bahasa inggris, tapi sebagai negara asia yang tingkat fluency bahasa inggrisnya lumayan tinggi, sekiranya bisa lah di kira kira artinya.

berikut taktik lain yang ditulis oleh Kelly Tanabe, meski rada abstrak menurut saya, tapi lumayan laaah.

How To Write A Winning Scholarship Essay

If you think that writing essays for college applications was an exhausting experience, we’re sorry to break the bad news to you–there are more to come. Many scholarship applications require at least one essay–although they are usually (but not always) shorter than those for college admissions.

Before you begin wondering if it’s worth the trouble to apply, the good news is that because you have already written quality essays for your college applications, you have some very good recycling possibilities. Plus this time you have the motivation of writing to be paid money instead of writing to spend money as you did for the college application essays.

Similar to admissions officers, scholarship committees see the essay as a window into the hearts and minds of the applicants. Because of this, essays for scholarships should be written similarly to college essays. They should be original, well-written, honest, and describe something meaningful about you. Scholarship essays should captivate the readers and make them care about the writer. All the strategies that you learned in the college essay writing chapters also apply to scholarship essays.

While a scholarship application may give you the luxury of writing on any subject–in which case you can easily submit one of your college essays–most give you a much more focused topic. For example, if you are applying to an organization dedicated to promoting world peace they may ask you to write about–what a coincidence–world peace. If you are applying to a civic group, they may ask you to write about your volunteer experience. In these cases you need to demonstrate in your essay that you are strong in that particular field or area or that you are the most suitable candidate because you fulfill the specific criteria of the award better than anyone else.

This may mean that you will have to write a new essay. However, since these essays are shorter and it is not expected (like the college application essays) that you spend weeks on them, they should be much easier to turn out. Once you get going you can usually whip out an essay pretty quickly, especially if you can cut and paste one together from several previous essays.

The final thing you should keep in mind when writing is to consider the kinds of people who will be reading your essay. An essay about how you wished you were born in a communist country because of your love for Marx may not go over well for an American Legion scholarship–many of whose members risked their lives fighting communists. An essay about the evils perpetrated by big business may not find much sympathy in a scholarship committee composed of Rotarians. Keep in mind, at all times, who your readers will be and make sure what you write will not offend them.

ada juga dari sumber yang sama yang lebih spesifik, setidaknya ada dos and donts nya, hehe

The graduate school statement of purpose is your chance to demonstrate your unique qualifications for and commitment to your chosen field by discussing those experiences, people, and events that compelled you to pursue it.

That's a lot to accomplish–especially in the typical two-to-three pages allowed for your statement. You can find the key to success by focusing on a few illustrative incidents as opposed to giving a superficial overview. Remember: Detail, specificity, and concrete examples will make your essay distinctive and interesting. Generalities and platitudes that could apply to every other grad school applicant will bore. If you use them, you'll just blur into one of the crowd.

Following "Ten Do's and Don'ts for Your Statement of Purpose" will help you write a compelling, focused essay — one that will transform you from a collection of numbers and classes into an interesting human being.
Ten Do's and Don'ts for Your Statement of Purpose
The Do's

1. Unite your essay and give it direction with a theme or thesis. The thesis is the main point you want to communicate.
2. Before you begin writing, choose what you want to discuss and the order in which you want to discuss it.
3. Use concrete examples from your life experience to support your thesis and distinguish yourself from other applicants.
4. Write about what interests you, excites you. That's what the admissions staff wants to read.
5. Start your essay with an attention-grabbing lead — an anecdote, quote, question, or engaging description of a scene.
6. End your essay with a conclusion that refers back to the lead and restates your thesis.
7. Revise your essay at least three times.
8. In addition to your editing, ask someone else to critique your statement of purpose for you.
9. Proofread your personal statement by reading it out loud or reading it into a tape recorder and playing back the tape.
10. Write clearly, succinctly.

The Don'ts

1. Don't include information that doesn't support your thesis.
2. Don't start your essay with "I was born in…," or "My parents came from…"
3. Don't write an autobiography, itinerary, or résumé in prose.
4. Don't try to be a clown (but gentle humor is OK).
5. Don't be afraid to start over if the essay just isn't working or doesn't answer the essay question.
6. Don't try to impress your reader with your vocabulary.
7. Don't rely exclusively on your computer to check your spelling.
8. Don't provide a collection of generic statements and platitudes.
9. Don't give mealy-mouthed, weak excuses for your GPA or test scores.
10. Don't make things up.



yaaa begitulah. semoga nih page ngasi saya, mungkin anda juga, sedikit petunjuk tentang penulisan essay beasiswa, tapi, curhat aja, masalah essay ini benar benar menyebalkan.. :(

new found realizations

there are so many things I want -well more in the thought that it would be good to pour in than want- to write lately. different topics that now seem a bit useless -though funny- and obviously pointless. and i guess to just go ahead with them in smaller structures does seem to be less tedious in a way than my original conception.

I have, and frankly quite surprised by the fact that some humility can result in the finding of brand new realizations that -in my own reasoning- have been shunned away in my brain for quite sometimes now.

this is stupid, but for the first time in my life, I realized the importance of high speed internet connection in brightening up my day.

quite frankly I have had that assumption for quite sometimes now that I will not find peace in my working without hitting the download button before hand. that the idea of already downloading something put me in a state of tranquility, hence the freedom of focusing on microsoft words without the feeling of wasting one of the most inventive inventions in the history of humankind: the ability to down load new knowledge and take them for granted.

I always considered myself a mouse, not only from the way I scatter all the little things around my bed where I sleep, but also the natural behavior of collecting everything that at first glance looked interesting. and internet is that magic wand that allows me to become the real me, a mouse.

For the first time also I realized that the accumulation of fear is the sole reason why I can't seem to put everything in order to virtually snatch a scholarship.

I mean, I realized that it actually make sense. I can't explain it, but it does make sense.

I also realized that I have never ever actually believe in anything. I mean, more than seeing, believing requires such degree of bravery, and I feel like that is what I most lack of in most of the time: the courage to actually believe in some things.

I can easily say I believe in God or proclaiming myself as a religious twit. but the questions of his, or her, role in the life of gazillion people, or why he, or she, always seems to be pro to status quo, does blur away the possibility: the possibility that he, or she, might actually exist.

this lead to the doubting of hell, heaven, angels, demons, historically unrecorded prophets, new testaments, religious conflicts, viaticum, the importance of religious leaders like the pope, purity and pure teaching of good versus evil, eventually lead to the doubting of good deeds, bad deeds, actions and reactions, the cordiality of self reflection, religious consequences, the afterlife, simple treats or even bigger ones that are actually valued in His presence, the importance of actually paying attention to religious teachings and so on and so forth.

But still, I can easily say I believe in God just for the heck of it.

I guess more importantly than everything else is that the believe in God does help people to be morally acceptable in their social life. I mean, pagans shouldn't in their right mind say stuff like "I'll pray for you" whenever a friend is trapped in dire situations, caught in conflict areas like Darfur or more recently the capital city of Thailand.

This lead to the next realization, that we don't need to actually believe in God to actually believe in God, we are sensible, thus positioned to believe in him, or her, for the sakes of being.

the next realization is as stupid as shit, but still fit to the category. I kindda realize, barely, that my state of being fat is actually caused by my love of eating, or gulping, whatever fit the description of food or drinks and apparently too lazy to break some sweat, wishfully thinking that one day I'd wake up thin and lean and looking good as ever.

and that also lead to the next realization, that it's genuinely a wishful thinking to find myself lean blablabla waking up.

Other than the fact that I hate coffee -but still drink them-, less hating Duren -but still deliberately chose not to have anything to do with the decision of putting anything with them in my mouth-, and despise stupid people, I found it the worse pain in my life ever, physically, to have a clot of air stuck between the bulk of my ass and the pole of my spine, go figure.

people are living with more things than the things they actually need, and I'm looking forward to find the same things around me somewhere in the future.

I also realized that though I'm familiar with the phrase "you only live once", I don't have the capacity of living up to it, and I guess so as other people. I realized that people do understand that they only live once, but they seem to dwell on the idea that they might live long enough to starve or to be a hobo, or more precisely for good, and that explains their way of life, or mine for that matter.

mm...

I can't exactly root a point in life where I begun to develop the habit, because more often than I realize it, I get to put "this is stupid" in front of some stupid, and probably not so stupid, things I want to say, or write for that matter.

but in a way, I'm grateful, and by grateful I mean I thank God, I actually do, that never throughout my time of living I get to see my entire life flashing through before my eyes and get to feel like there's absolutely nothing I can do about it. I somewhat come to the point of realization that some things who seem good at the first encounter don't necessarily be good for the rest of its existence and vice versa, and that it applies to almost everything.

I realize that it's just the way it is. and I somewhat glad that I get to realize it now, because in a way, life does seem a bit bearable afterward..

hm..

in your eyes

love,
I get so lost, sometimes
days pass
and this emptiness fills my heart
when I want to run away
I drive off in my car
but whichever way I go
I come back to the place you are

all my instincts,
they return
and the grand facade,
so soon will burn
without a noise, without my pride
I reach out from the inside

in your eyes
the light the heat
in your eyes
I am complete
in your eyes
I see the doorway
to a thousand churches
in your eyes
the resolution
of all the fruitless searches
in your eyes
I see the light and the heat
in your eyes
oh, I want to be that complete
I want to touch the light
the heat I see in your eyes

love,
I don't like to see so much pain
so much wasted and this moment keeps slipping away
I get so tired
of working so hard for our survival
I look to the time with you
to keep me awake and alive

and all my instincts,
they return
and the grand facade,
so soon will burn
without a noise, without my pride
I reach out from the inside

in your eyes
the light the heat
in your eyes
I am complete
in your eyes
I see the doorway
to a thousand churches
in your eyes
the resolution
of all the fruitless searches
in your eyes
I see the light and the heat
in your eyes
oh, I want to be that complete
I want to touch the light,
the heat I see in your eyes

volare via

e da un po' che io ci penso su
che cosa farei lantano da qui
da tutte queste inutili bugie
che ogni giorno devo vivere
comprendere

vorrei volare via
per un momento
dire solo a te
quello che sento
senza aver paura d'amare
senza aver paura...

e da un po' che io ci penso su
che strada farei lontano da qui
lontano dai rumori e dalle immagini
che ogni giorno vedo intorno a me
e dentro me...

vorrei volare via
per un momento
dire solo a te
quello che sento
non aver paura d'amare
si', non aver paura...

io ti nascondero'
dietro ai miei occhi
e ti difendero'
da mille attacchi
senza aver paura d'amare
senza aver paura... di te

--------------------------------

what is "a friend indeed"

a descent picture of us with not so descent aperture point


a not so descent picture, which is a bit gay-ish hahaha, but whatta heck, of us



i just had a brief encounter with, well, pretty much my bestest friend this afternoon. he is slightly bulkier, looking cleaner like most husbands, but still the old guy I remember being there for me for an extended period of time.

though he might not ever consider this, i gladly consider him the best friend, even if the meaning of the term itself is overrated.

the history between us is long and tedious. to tell the truth i can't even remember some of them in the days i decided cranking his boarding house for, probably more than half a year, or could be a year or year and a half, in Bintaro back in the hey days, when we were all broke, jobless, a bit stupid, but happy. i don't know about him, but yeah, it was a key moment in my life and i'm glad i had it. i guess i'm glad he was in it along the way.

fyi, he paid all the bills

he was shocked looking at my hair, and though awkward for him, i managed to hug him. and brief encounter followed to the basement for lunch where we tried our best to keep up with each other's life, he with his married life, me with my work life (haha).

and like hitler chocking up on helium after drinking too much coffee, i screeched about whatever i can think of, while he gracefully hinted about babies, the nature of life within the tender imprisonment of marriage and well, tax, not to mention how the latest case on gayus demotivates most tax workers.

actually talking again after more than half a year, or could be a year or year and a half, reminded me of why.

because married life, like most people knows it, is demanding, where he didn't have that much time anymore to just wander around doing stupid shits with his friend, or to make things less complicated, me, and working has been occupying especially me, and all that other crap reasons whose counter argument is that if we really miss each other we could always arrange a meet up, though the last time we did i got lost.

but the why is more on why i once considered the guy the bestest friend, though most of our friends at the old Bintaro boarding house considered us 'soulmate', hopefully in a non, or less-gay sense of things.

and based on that also, i figure i ought to have the authority -and audacity- to actually spell out what i think is a friend, or in his case, a best friend, as i have lived a long life to begin with, and all other crap reasons.

to do this in an appropriate manner, i will try to come up with points on the qualities of why one can be considered as a best friend. a bit stupid, as this has been done millions of times and every time one does it, i always feel that such decision to do so is lame and cheesy, but hell, i'm in a good mood.

- with a best friend you can actually talk. be it filled with broad sense, or nonsense at all.

he might understand or he might not, but he always come up with remarks that make me feel like i'm worth listening. you don't find that situation too often unless of course i'm asking questions :).

and the part where i feel like i'm worth listening is way much more complicated than simply being boring -which is a stupid defensive remark if i may say, as some people do find me boring. jumping off from one subject to another in quentin tarantino style, while discussing multiple topics at once, leaving one when it has lost its exciting qualities onto another that is fresh to only go back to the abandoned topic without trying to link them at the end as conclusion is not an easy way or normal method to converse stuff. but it has been apparent to me that he's digesting it well, hence making it feel totally normal, though this is a mere assumption i made based on his lack of complaints.

i know i'm a good listener, but my mind is often wandering off to some things that makes my brain temporary closed down its electricity portal from the ears, hence the huh, what, and multiple eh that randomly pop out in every beginning of conversations. but like i said, he's taking it well.

-with your best friend you can stop talking without being afraid that you're wasting his/her time.

and this has happened too many times back in the past, though some of these moments have apparently been erased from my fragile memories. and such situation where other people can feel okay about it don't happen that much either. like when you make calls, which is the only moment when "time is money" takes form in its truest sense.

being silent has apparently become a redeeming quality that he had, and most of us had actually, and there are times when you just don't feel like talking, or simply prefer listening to music over headphones, without the fear of thinking that you might ignoring the other person. i did that a lot, and he ditto apparently.

-your best friend never ask too much of you, expecting too much of you or demanding too much of you

with that being said, the only time he ever asked anything from me was back when he said he wanted to get married.

he asked me to be his best man.

which i immediately said yes, but flank on the d-day because i did things that i shouldn't have done or at least delayed to about three or five hours after that in which due to propriety's sake shouldn't be mentioned or hinted even a bit in this post. i came late, the wedding is already over, and no one is giving him the ring.

in later days he told me that because there's no other best man available for back up, he kept the ring in his pocket.

he was probably mad, or at least disappointed. but he didn't show them.

"it was great, i was nervous, you should see the number of people coming dude, damn i thought i'd passed out. and where were you?"

"i got lost," which we all know was a lie

and i guess that's the moment where he truly felt happy and content, or at least relieve, that the biggest challenge in a man's life is passed without meaningful obstacle, or at least that's what i'd like to think so :p.

come to think of it, we all think it's okay with each other's bad habits over time, like being late. i can still remember vividly where in his bed, at about eight o'clock in the morning, in our, or his, old boarding house, he received a call from his boss inquiring him about his whereabouts as he was late for an important meeting.

"I'm on the way, I'm on the way," he said and continued sleeping for another ten minutes before finally getting up.

I swear to god till this day that he wouldn't have gone to that stupid so called important meeting if i didn't hassle him about going as fast as he could.

in this case, i wasn't being a best friend as i mentioned earlier i guess.

but even back in high school, where i'll be late for most of the days, he would come some minutes after me.

- your best friend appreciate your work, where as a best friend, you appreciate what he does too

the simplest example, as both of us were the lead cartoonists, illustrators, wallpaper designers and whatever involving the use of different types of pens, cardboards, paints, scissors, and other painting tools to lead a group of merryful bunch in almost every major event requiring big, small, colorful, less colorful, meaningful, less meaningful, boring and less boring decorations in highschool, and highschool being the only span of time reasonable enough to mention as we end up going to different universities and take up different jobs after highschool, i can fairly say that nobody appreciate, admire, take careful observations with the intend of learning and understanding, continue to remember most of his works with the aim of comprehending his style, more than me.

and back in the first grade of highschool, i can still remember him being the only guy who thought that my sketching of a girl's hair viewed from the back was, well, basically worth looking at for the next half an hour.

i fell asleep in the next two hours or so and he kept the page.

-your best friend doesn't tell you what to do, he supports you with whatever thing you chose to do.

in a way, he refused to be responsible for your wrong decisions, but he don't mind to also feel the impact, or take partial responsibility of your well being after all the things harvested their impacts. that's what he always do, and learning from him, that's what i always try to do in my life with my worthy friends.

I think the boarding house case, where i stayed at his boarding house, thinking it as mine also, for an extended period of time in his own expenses, being an impact of a wrong decision i made, was a clear example.

well, luckily i don't do drugs, don't steal stuff and not causing any trouble, that if i did, i wouldn't even want to befriend myself.


(*)


there are a lot of other qualities, obviously, but i will add them later. i've got deadlines and i'm not looking to be dead just yet.

and if we don't get to see each other again in a long time after this, i'm sure i can catch him again next year while paying my tax. he wouldn't mind.

and oh, the last thing is

-you feel grateful having your best friend, and from their odd little ways, you know they're grateful too

from my experience, i can only assume :)

cheers

lost in uncertainty

I have found the immeasurable tunnel, rooted deep with China as its possible end
I have found deep dark oceans looming in sight, luring fishermen to get near and drown
I have found a tall tower of knowledge, which floors aren’t numbered
I have found them in you
And you have found pretty much the same in someone else

China isn't probably destined for me :)

lost in certainty

He looked at her mother's page, and then her sister's. And then he stumbled upon Paulo Coelho's facebook page, whose recent status was displayed on her sister's page.

the status says "Love is joy. Don't convince yourself that suffering is part of it"

it shook him

he is suffering, in where it's supposed to be love. and worse yet, he seems to find joy, in all the little sufferings someone else is inflicted on him. something that will not ever be.

suffering is not part of love, he is convinced, and he is committed to go down the familiar path, where nothing awaits but suffering, till death do them part.

stuff lost

btw the biggest thing in my life throughout the year is probably happening.

D90 got stolen, plus tele lens, some money and two hardisks, forcing me to move out from the old boarding house pronto, the place that I like so much and have inhibited for three years now.

The new place is air conditioned, not very well vent, has got histories of things stolen and cost almost twice the previous one..

I hate it

but hey, you can't always get what you want, but if you try sometimes, you might find you get what you need!

or so they say.. you can force it, but it will drive you craazyyy...

anyways, I've got some loan from koperasi to get a D90 as replacement. This is secret, but as personal revenge, I really want to get me a D700 or 5d Mark II sometimes in the future, Insya Allah,

And because I don't really like talking about bad stuff happening to me, that woul be all and bug off

godspeed

yogya erased

At just about midnight nine hours before, some friends tried their luck crossing the two giant trees blindfolded at the Alun-Alun south of Yogyakarta Keraton (traditional palace). “Yogyakarta is running out of places to hangout in weekends, hence the constructions of hangout spots even in the outskirts of the city,” said Danang, a PR officer from the hotel that after sometimes has become more of a friend than a nuisance.

This explained the crowding youth at the Alun-Alun. The myths behind the trees, where successful crossing without the luxury of sight will grant their innermost desire in life, have prompted some people to lease black cloths for eye cover. And people are selling everything traditional, from the widely known Ronde (hot ginger drink) to boiled ground peanuts. We rent tandem bikes and make two rounds circling the Alun-Alun. Frankly, I haven’t had that much fun –or laughs- in a long time.

it's liberating to be somewhat stupid

lagu latian buat besok pas latian dan yang bakal kita mainin pas acara kantor di waterbom

okeh

karena kita mau bawain dua lagu, dan sekalian pas kita main di waterbom, maka menurut hemat gue, bener kata agus kalo bom bali hiji (karena judulnya sama ama water"bom", get it?) adalah lagu pertama yang tepat untuk dimainkan..

selanjutnya, setelah menimbang dan mengevaluasi bahwasanya image kita sebagai band akan langsung turun drastis kalo kita tiba tiba came up dengan lagu ga penting dan dilanjutkan dengan lagu ga penting lainnya, maka kita butuh sebuah lagu yang secara teknik profound, tapi ga nyusahin dengan durasi minimum yang meski bentar tetap bikin orang terperangah - tapi perlu di pikirkan juga kalo terlalu beresiko bahwasanya kalo kita nyanyi juga bakal kacau - maka dengan ini saya memilih lagu ini untuk kita latih bersama, sebuah lagu instrument yang tidak bisa dibilang tidak penting, yang maaf sekali bukan barang tentu dari coheed and cambria atawa blink 182, tetapi dari band favorite saya yang seperti sodara sodara sekalian tau adalah sebuah band norway beranggotakan sepuluh orang multiinstrumentalists bernama jaga jazzist (ben to)

mungkin akan ada protes tentang susahnya melodi dari om mustapha, maka dari itu, melodi akan dipangkas untuk dimainkan berdua bersama pemain bas yang notabene dan sangat disayangkan adalah sang penulis dan empunya alamat email ini. sebagai konsekwensi dari pemangkasan melodi, om mustapha akan sangat disesalkan akan tetapi sangat diharapkan untuk mengisi syncops syncops ala gamelan bali dalam lagu ini.

akan tetapi yang darimana sesuai dengan yang daripadanya, om lolla pemain drum dengan terpaksa harus berlatih extra keras untuk mampu setidaknya menyesuaikan meski tidak dipaksa oleh kami atau lebih tepatnya saya sebagai penggagas dan pemaksa pembentuk band ini dan di ujo ujo supaya kiranya dapat mampu menghapal tema tema pukulan dan hitungan dari hanya dan hanya dari reff lagu yang saya attach sebagai benang emas dari lagu tersebut.

setelah menimbang dan memeriksa dimana akan sangat diharapkan terjadi kesalahan dan kesulitan kesulitan tertentu pada saat pementasan dimana perilaku tersebut dapat menimbulkan cemoohan dari audienz termasuk pengunjung waterbom lain yang sebentulnya tidak begitu memiliki kepentingan sedikit apapun, maka sangat dianjurkan bagi anggota band ini untuk melatih poker face mereka dan meski kemungkinan besar akan main dengan acakadul tetap berlagak tidak ada yang terjadi atau lebih tepatnya seolah olah kesalahan kesalahan tersebut sebagaimana besar atau kecilnya merupakan bagian dari permainan progresive kita yang telah dengan sangat matang dipikirkan.
berikut lagunya dan harap diunduh, di dengar dan di telaah setelahnya dilatih dan dicemooh..

terimakasih,
over and out
cumi

ps. kok ternyata filenya gede yak.. besok ajah gue kasi yak
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For less paperwork and better environment, think twice before printing this email




heheh.. above is the email I sent for members of my band, recently named DeTrakt, but will probably changed to MayaElectric :p. don't be fooled that despite the tone, the band consists some of the most profound musicians I know :p

parenthood and yup, there's absolutely something wrong with me

I hate to say it, but besides real sad stories with details of other people being left alone and then cried, well, heartlessly, screaming possibly, sobs continuously, put it simply, moving pictures of people feeling extremely sad, that and the death of Michael Jackson, or other great musicians I adore, now that I mentioned it, I always have these profound mmm.. well empathy, or simply grieve on parenthood..

well.. not exactly..

in a way I'm easily moved by it, yup that's the term..

I mean how crazy is suddenly bursting into tears and laughter at the same time after a sight at a big board commercial with the face of an ordinary man, nothing special, with words like

"today, trying to get daughter to preschool"
"tomorrow, entering daughter to Yale"

that is just sick

until now I realized that the simplest sentence to bring me into tears, and not just down, but literally water in my eyes is

"and father, do you understand, what it is you mean to me.."

(shit)

(breathe..)

I just stumbled upon this blog, and I couldn't read it any further, for proper's sake..
well.. just want to share that, not going to make or find conclusion whatsoever..

supersonic ears

walls surrounding me
hands chained shackled
yet I can hear you
drenched in your laughter

I think it was your eyes that drown me
and your animation of life took me on a stroll
into the familiar unknown

walls surrounding me
I built those walls surrounding me

falling in love at a coffee shop

a short story by Restiawardani


Dia menunggu lagi. Aku tahu, karena setiap kali aku ke sini, dia selalu ada lebih dulu. Tempat duduknya pun selalu sama, dekat konter kasir tempat Mima akan berdiri...seandainya dia masih ada.

Aku tidak pernah mencoba memberi tahu laki-laki itu, bahwa gadis yang dia tunggu tak akan pernah lagi ke tempat ini, atau ke tempat manapun. Aku tak pernah mencoba memberitahunya.

Laki-laki itu selalu berharap, matanya selalu tertuju pada pintu pegawai, seakan-akan Mima akan muncul di sana. Caranya menjawab telepon yang masuk lewat handphone-nya juga tak pantas, seakan seseorang mengganggu ritual sucinya, setiap hari, di coffee shop ini.

Suatu hari, seseorang lewat di samping lelaki itu dan memanggilnya, Sandy. Tapi selain namanya, Aku tidak tahu hal lain tentang dirinya. Yang aku tahu dia mahasiswa. Aku melihat judul-judul buku yang dia bawa, yang tidak pernah dibaca, seakan benda-benda itu hanya aksesori. Sandy tidak pernah tersenyum pada bukunya. Dia hanya memamerkan lekukan itu di wajahnya ketika menatap aplikasi facebook di laptopnya.

Aku menyukai Sandy. Aku berharap dia melupakan Mima.

Tapi Sandy selalu kembali ke coffee shop ini. Dia selalu menatap konter kasir dengan murung. Ketika kukira dia terbenam dalam facebooknya, suara seperti denting sendok jatuh, atau suara tertawa tiba-tiba dari meja sebelah, atau suara denting mesin kasir, akan dengan mudah mengalihkan perhatiannya. Kepala Sandy pun akan berputar ke arah pintu pegawai, dan template kesedihan itu akan kembali dia aplikasikan saat dia tidak juga menemukan Mima di sana.

Aku tidak tahu mengapa Sandy tidak pernah menanyakan satu orang pun yang bekerja di coffee shop ini tentang keberadaan Mima, karena dia pasti akan langsung mendapatkan jawabannya. Mereka, yang juga sepenuhnya tahu bahwa laki-laki ini datang untuk menemui Mima, juga tak pernah mencoba menyapa atau bertanya. Seperti aku, mungkin mereka suka dengan keberadaannya. Mungkin mereka menikmati kesetiaannya, dan kami terdiam dalam kekaguman.

Suatu waktu, aku pernah mencoba meniupkan kesadaran ke balik matanya, tempat hatinya berada. Tapi kuurungkan. Sandy sepertinya sudah memilikinya. Dia hanya menutupnya, seperti kebanyakan kaumnya, yang lebih memilih hidup berharap dibanding hidup dicekik kenyataan.

Sandy tidak tahu, andai dia tahu. Mima tidak ada karena aku menjemputnya...lebih dari tiga bulan lalu.
Seharusnya Sandy tidak perlu berorasi bisu menyuarakan protesnya karena ketiadaan Mima, dengan setiap hari memasang wajah murung di tempat yang seharusnya hangat dengan kopi dan kebaikan. Dia seharusnya tahu, Aku menjemput Mima, karena aku menginginkannya lebih dari dia mampu membayangkannya. Adakah yang lain di kaumnya yang memiliki hati sejernih Mima? Maka sebelum seseorang mendapatkannya, sebelum mereka menyakitinya, sebelum sesuatu membuat luka di hatinya, sebelum Mima mengotori hatinya, aku mengambilnya.

Kelak, saat Sandy mampu mendengarku, akan kubisikkan permohonan maafku.

Mima kini berdiri di sampingku. Kadang gadis kecil ini mengikutiku, hanya untuk melihat laki-laki yang setiap hari duduk berjam-jam di coffee shop menunggunya.

Aku menyukai Sandy dan kesedihannya yang melelahkan.
Hari ini, kuhembuskan kesadaran itu.

Sandy tersentak terkejut. Terburu-buru dia berdiri. Setelah hampir satu tahun menunggu di coffee shop ini, baru kali ini Sandy pergi ke menemui wanita manajer itu di konter, dan bertanya di mana Mima. Dia tentu saja, sudah menduga apa jawabannya. Tapi tetap saja, begitu mendengarnya, dia hanya terdiam di sana. Tidak ada kemarahan, tidak ada teriakan. Hanya ada air mata yang mengalir pelan di wajah, dalam kebisuan.

Tapi kami tahu Sandy akan baik-baik saja.
Maka aku dan Mima pergi. Kali ini untuk selamanya.


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I feel bad, as she has erased the short story from her blog and here I took the liberty of repost it in my blog..
I think she will be like a bit mad at me for doing this, but whatta heck hahaha

Putting Valentine’s Day on perspective (heleh)

Shakespeare once described love as “a smoke made with the fume of sighs”. And as abstract as it may sound, we all know it when it’s love, we feel it.

Some people, nevertheless, could not fairly express their love. The fear that the feeling is unrequited, inappropriate or simply foolish, has in a way prevented them from receiving God’s ultimate give, to love and to be loved back. And that’s why Valentine’s Day is not just special, but also necessary.

Dating back, the history of the day started during the reigning time of Emperor Claudius II in the third century of the Roman Empire. It was told that Claudius II, feeling that single men made better soldiers than those with wives and families, decided to outlawed marriage for young men. Valentine, a priest served during such time, defied Claudius and continued to perform marriages for young lovers in secret.

He was sentenced to death when found out, but this lead to another story. Legend has it that while in jail, Valentine performed a miracle by healing the jailer’s blind daughter and fell in love with her. He sent the first ‘Valentine’ greeting the night before his execution, a letter signed “From your Valentine” to the healed daughter.

Finally executed in mid February, around 269 AD, the time of his death was later celebrated as Valentine’s Day.

The above legend does sound like a make believe, but it was recorded in history that a Christian priest named Valentinus was martyred on Feb. 14 about 269 AD and buried in Via Flaminia, the most important Roman road to the north leading from Rome to Rimini.

There are a number of martyrs named Valentine in the early days, most notably Valentine of Terni, who died in Feb. 14 about 197 AD -with relics found at the Church of Saint Praxed in Rome and at Whitefriar Street Carmelite Church in Dublin, Ireland, and a third saint mentioned in the Catholic Encyclopedia from www.catholic.com, who died at the same date in Africa.

In 496 AD, the last of three popes with disputable African origin in the Roman Catholic Church named Pope Gelasius I, decided to shift the Roman feast of Lupercalia, a pagan love festival that fall on Feb. 15, to the 14th and officially named it St. Valentine’s Day. Gelasius died that year, but it was his decision that finally gave correlation between Valentine’s Day and love, in which the pagan aspect of Lupercalia was omitted.

There are many stories leading to the celebration of Valentine’s Day, but the sending of Valentine’s greeting card did not become a huge fashion until about late 1840s, especially in Great Britain and the U.S.

As a matter of fact, the Valentine’s Day we know today is considered as one of the Hallmark’s holiday in U.S., which in commercial purposes marked the second biggest selling of greeting cards for a specific day after Christmas Day, leaving the three other holydays, namely the Sweetest Day, Mother's Day and Fathers' Day behind. The U.S. Greeting Card Association also estimates that approximately one billion Valentine’s cards are sent each year worldwide with men spending twice as much as women.

But how did chocolate candies and bars become an important part of the celebration, if the solid form of chocolate wasn’t even invented until 1830 by Joseph Fry & Sons?

There was no solid evidence on how chocolate suddenly meddled in the celebration except for the fact that Richard Cadbury created the first known heart-shaped candy box for Valentine’s Day in 1861, having his son John to mass marketed the first boxes of chocolate candies in 1868 after introducing chocolate bars in 1849 with Joseph Fry & Sons at an exhibition in Bingley Hall, Birmingham, England.

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yup, ini sebenernya cuman referensi dari berbagai informasi tentang Valentine's Day di internet. Yaa setidaknya tau lah apaan si Valentine bagi yang emang ngasi kembang ke pacarnya, cekidot

2010!

baru nyadar ternyata selama bulan januari ga nulis apa apa dan tiba tiba udah februari. yaa ternyata bullshitan gue di koran lebih menjual dari blog ini, but whatta heck, pertama memutuskan punya blog kan emang biar punya record tentang diri sendiri, biar bisa di baca baca pas bosen dan ketawa ketawa sendiri hehe, lagian secara tidak sadar ternyata tulisan gue di blog ini lumayan lucu hoho.. jadi ayo dibaca dunk! (hayah)

anyways, seperti layaknya koran, hehehe ga tau deh, pokoknya gitu, gue ingin membuat sebuah review tentang kehidupan gue di awal tahun ini, dan apa yang udah berubah hehe.. yaaa meski kalian mikir ini ga penting, ini tetap penting buat gue, kan ini idup gue, I'm alive and breathing and sometimes I just can't figure out why or how..

di februari tahun 2010 ini gue menyadari beberapa hal sudah berubah, dan gue ingin bikin list tentang hal hal itu, so here are they..


1. gue mulai merokok, dan rokok gue Dunhill Menthol (gambarnya luar karena rokok lokal ga ada hehe). rada lama juga memutuskan Dunhill sebagai rokok tetap gue, karena pas mulai ngerokok, tepatnya sekitar mmmm ga tepatnya si sekitar sembilan bulan yang lalu, gue cobain berbagai merek dari kretek ga jelas, dji sam soe, ampe kansas, dan Dunhill lah yang memberi gue perasaan fly yang terkenal itu.. tapi kini merokok jadi kaya kebutuhan, disamping pengharapan bakal bisa ngurusin badan (jiaah). pas nyokap tau juga beliau bilang "yaudah kurangin makannya banyakin ngrokoknnya" hehe nyokap gue emang bijaksana.. anyways ngerokok itu paling enak pagi pagi, ato sore sore setelah seharian ga ngerokok.. secara official, gue ngerokok sepak sehari. dan kalo ga ada Dunhill, apapun jadi, termasuk yang ngelinting dewe hehe.. blasphemy..


2. berat badan gue naik... (apaaaaaa?!) ya yaaa.. long gone is the schlanke linie form yang di gilai banyak wanita jaman smu, diganti bentuk om om ga jelas. secara official, berat badan gue naik dari 62 (berat badan ideal yang udah termasuk gendut) ke 70-71 (yang lebih parahnya ngebikin muka gue tampak tembem) I'm not that attractive anymore, dan ditambah perilaku dan gaya hidup gue yang emang berantakan, I'm a mess hihi.. but whatta heck, ga tau kenapa di dalam diri gue berpikir kalo in a not so distant future, dimana berat badan gue udah turun lagi jadi sekitar enempuluhan, gue akan mengingat masa masa gendut gue sekarang dengan penuh canda tawa (hayah).



3. gue abis beli komputer! yup. komputer super keren yang di perkuat dengan komponen super keren dan di dukung oleh monitor super lebar dan di instalin berbagai jenis game super berat hihi.. total duit yang di habiskan buat komputer ini adalah 9 jeti buat PC dan 3.5 jeti buat monitor. berikut spec nya
CPU: AMD Phenom II X4 955 Black Edition 3.2GHz Quad-Core Processor
MOBO: GIGABYTE GA-MA770T-UD3P AMD Motherboard
RAM: G.SKILL 4GB (2 x 2GB) DDR3 1600 (PC3 12800)
GPU: XFX HD-487A-ZHFC Radeon HD 4870 1GB 256-bit GDDR5
HDD: Western Digital Caviar green 640GB SATA
PSU: CORSAIR CMPSU-750TX 750W
HSF: Scythe SCKTN-3000 92mm Sleeve "KATANA3" CPU Cooler
CASE: COOLER MASTER HAF 922 Mid Tower Computer Case
monitornya Samsung 23 inchi karena yang 24 inchi ga ada yang jual di mangga dua. dan gue bener bener cinta komputer ini hehe, rasanya ingin bercinta dengannya (hayah).

4. gue udah mulai settle di tempat ini, and things are going to the right direction kayanya, dengan nih koran di sebut sebagai koran peringkat 76 di 200 koran ternama dunia dan koran nomor satu di Indonesia ngalahin kompas menurut website ini.. nggak berdasar jumlah sirkulasi si, tapi berdasar jumlah pengunjung websitenya. gaji juga naik 5 persen, jadi yaa life's been good.

5. hihi ini bodoh, tapi sekarang gue pernah ke luar negri, setidaknya malaysia, thailand dan singapore hehe... dan karena gue memutuskan untuk ga ngelamar beasiswa tahun ini yaa mungkin ga bakal ke eropa ampe tahun depan, we'll see laaa..

6. gue balik ama oppie, let's hope things will go according to plan.. (cross my fingers)


7. adik gue hamil! hehe dan bentar lagi gue bakal jadi pakdhe, so get the baby out already sistah!


8. gue beli BB! hihi yaa seperti biasa hape gue ilang lagi, dan karena ini udah yang ke sekian kali (ke empat ato lima gitu) berasa biasa aja, dan tuh hape seperti biasa juga udah mulai rusak sebelum ilang, so there..


9. dan gue juga udah punya kamera sendiri, D60 dengan lensa tambahan 55-200 kayanya, dimana gue ma oppie berencana ngebikin kartu nama dan satu blog lagi buat nampung semua portfolio, hasil photo yang di jadiin undangan blabla dan menjual jasa, termasuk design kaus, kartu nama, tukang photo dan design ga penting penting lainnya, jika hal berjalan lancar, kita bakal punya usaha design dan jualan macam outlet tapi berbasis internet, hehe ngimpi boleh dunk :p

10. gue ga give up music, tapi kayanya ga begitu menekuninya dengan penuh pengharapan ga penting lagi sekarang. masi main si tapi ga jelas dan ga ada prospek buat beneran jadi musisi ato anggota band hihi.. sempet juga si bikin page di reverbnation dengan sebuah band fiktip bernama DeTrakt, tapi ga tau neh kelanjutannya hehehe.. mungkin emang musti serius di merchendize, let's see laaa..

11. oh iye gue gondrong!!!!!! hehehe gendut gondrong dan malah keliatan lebih cantik, but whatta heck


12. dan gue juga udah punya tattoo di punggung, yang gue bikin terakhir kali pas ngajakin nyokap ke bali. damn tattoos are painful, selama tiga jam tuh mas mas ngerajah punggung gue bersama alunan lagu Bryan Adams, se CD penuh MP3 bok, jadi pas lo kira tuh lagu yang emang udah beberapa album berakhir, keluarlah versi livenya hihi Bryan Adams emang moy.. he helps with the pain :p

13. nyokap punya facebook hehehe.. dan udah masukin poto poto dia yang cantik ke facebook :p. She's also gaining weight, but she said she's healthier than ever so.. I'm coming to see her this weekend :)

well.. that's so far the huge details in my life, in addition to pipim's gone, ridwan's sunk in his marriage, Iskandar broken up, the guys at the office mainly agus, andreas and reja planning to smoke some weed sometimes this month, everything is doing just fine :)