Our brief rendezvous

There's always a slight feeling of satisfaction after meeting a dear old friend. Spending a time with a best childhood friend is like finding your old diary in an almost forgotten vintage treasure chest, stored up in the attic. At times, the experience is likened to when you're walking down a lane you haven't been on for a while, or polishing off a mouthful of nanna's home-made chocolate gateaux that you haven't encountered for ages because destiny called study abroad has set you both apart for 10 years.**

As for me, the experience is like encountering a pack of dusty Sailor Moon comic books in the storage room. That definite moment when having the book on my lap, back leaning straight against the damp white wall of the storage room, and me fondly flicking every page of Sailor Moon, is very heartwarming.

The same could be said for what I felt two weeks ago when meeting an old high school friend. Back then, we had many similar interests. Now, we have a smorgasbord of 'em. She is now a Medicine student and a blogger -- a beauty blogger to be precise -- on her spare time. She's Nataly. The last time we met was around five or six years back. And we haven't heard from one another ever since.

So, after those six years I finally met this long-lost friend through Instagram (all hail The Internet) and then we arranged a meet-up for a photoshoot around the Old Batavia (Kota Tua) in Jakarta.



We chatted, we gossiped, we laughed all day looong. We also came up with a gazillion ideas to do a collab for our blog. And preoccupied though we were with catching up on one another's lives, we did enjoy our photoshoot very much. Our photos came up really natural, relaxed, and honest ♫ ♪ 

And Nataly's back with a rad ombré hair. This time, her hair features a reddish-orange hue with a slight wet curl at each end. I remember back in high school how she appeared in our classroom, one day after a summer holiday, with a green, blue, and red hair. It's enough to stir a chaos between the teachers! Sadly, she had to dye it black at the end. Now, when reminiscing over it again, we just laughed it off.

We had nothing but fun and laughter before us. Our brief rendezvous was, undoubtedly, the first of many more to come. 

*All pictures in this post belongs to me. Edits by yours truly.

** Please accept my apology for creating such a mouthful sentence. It's kinda fun you know, watching people hyperventilating as they read through my blog. Oh there you go I'm doing it again. Sorry.

We are the kindest species

They are savage. They devour human being. They are treacherous. Their all-conquering eyes dart right through your flesh, bones, and tissues. They are malicious. They've got tongues that are engulfed in flames. 

Are they some kind of hellacious animals that ready to pounce on an exposed flesh including some random lass’ juicy thighs? Is this all about zombies with supernatural powers? Unfortunately, no. They are the smartest being that have ever lived on earth. They can be gentle but simultaneously, ferocious. They're amiable but unmistakably belligerent too. 

They are two-legged creatures called humans.

Grazie, 2014

Today is day eight of 2015. How strange.. A year has just ended eight days ago. I remember very well, exactly a year ago on January 2014, I was anxious to face the year ahead. A lot of things had happened since then.

Now, I could say that 2014 was the year where I stumbled and crushed, devastated and torn, but at the same time was — by far — the most adventurous year I have ever had. Despite everything that happened within that year, with such a great humility I would say that I gained victory over each and every battle in 2014.

Nevertheless, it wasn't me who won the battle, but my God who won all my battles for me.

I decided I would have this opportunity to recall those battles in a hope they would help me to remember how fragile I was (and will always be) and how God has worked wonderfully to won my battles.

Battle 1 getting post-study work visa, Battle 2 finding permanent job, Battle 3 deciding whether to go back to Indonesia, Battle 4, Battle 5, and so on . . .

I hope this recollection of my past battles would help boost my spirit to fight through 2015. Welcome, Two Thousand Fifteen.


* All pictures in this post belongs to me.

Late night Ghibli snacks

Ever had some late night Ghibli titbits? Mmmm they’re ultimately scrumptious.

Lately, just lately, I’ve been spending my quiet nights with my sister’s laptop in a precise 5cms away from my toes, with my back leaning on the smooth faux leather upholstery of my sister’s bed, and having two thirds of my body buried from torso to toe by the warmth of my sister’s duvet. Okay, I reckon the possessive reference to my sister is getting a bit annoying. Obviously, the writer here has been numpang at her cozy little sister’s bedroom – because apparently her own bedroom is a wreck (we’ll get back to this topic a thousand post from now okay).

The point is, what my sister and I have been viewing on the laptop. Everyday, we dive into our daily dose of heroin: Studio Ghibli romps. Firstly, let me share an explanation on why and how we could get Ghibli films. I did buy several original copies of Studio Ghibli films in Melbourne. Spirited Away and Ponyo. However, these two are as many as I can afford.

The girl has never looked happy since December last year.

No more familiar curves of her bright red lips; they have probably been straight ever since she encountered the world's bitterness. That bitterness..that once was so sweet you thanked God for delivering you to the world. But now everything she wants is home.

"I want my parents," said the girl. Her lips were barely moving.

There was a moment of silence... I could hear her breathing. Inhale, exhale. In and out. I felt like a Kungfu Master, able to follow one's breathing pattern.

The silence was harrowing.

She threw her head to the other side. I could see her eyes shooting at the bare white wall.

"You couldn't find life's solutions on the wall," said her. "I used to be like that wall," she lifted her delicate arm and pointed towards the wall. "I was strong. People adored me for my strength."

I embraced myself to respond. "Was?" said I.

"I said I used to. Not anymore now. If I am, I won't be here, in this room with you."

I hesitated.

Tears were trickling down her cheeks.

"I feel like giving up," she said.

Tick tock: life's a clock

Look ahead!
A bird is flying graciously above my head and cutting into the thin air right in front of my eyes.
Look further down to its talons!
It is gripping something.
Something - a small, circular object.
It is a gold pocket watch.
My gold pocket watch. My time. 
"Oh! A bird just stole my time away!" I say.

I hope - I really do - that a bird really stole the time. That way, I could chase the bird and get my time back and therefore, relieve myself of the moments I hold preciously. Too metaphoric, I know. But I really wish . . .

It's not for the faint-hearted

I remember my mother said, one could be super genius in school - but as soon as one enters a university his brilliancy dims. I strongly believe that there are a number of your friends who got straight As in nearly all school subjects and won school competitions, but ended up struggling in university. This, I have seen a lot - and this has happened to me, as well.

I was doing pretty well in school. I don't have any intention to brag at all, but this was the fact. My grades were okay and I joined lots of school competitions. But what happened after I enter university was beyond anything I had ever imagined.

I didn't fail my subjects (Thank God), but I was struggling very very hard throughout the year. When I thought about choosing journalism as my major, I was thinking, "Unless I will have to do a live report in a battlefield I won’t have to worry about anything!"

Wrong. 

Theatrical act of suicide

Shocked. Absolute shock struck me as soon as a friend told me about a sad tragedy of an international student. Well, this happened almost a month ago--but still, the thought persists in my mind until now.

A boy was found hung in his bathroom, in a student apartment near Monash Caulfield campus. What made me notice him as much as I did was the fact that this boy is a Monash student, a business student. What's more, he is an Indonesian; which gave me more reason to lend him the attention he needed.

Whatever the reason behind his suicide, I still don't get why do some people can easily end their life. I think suicide is someone's attempt to make one's life more theatrical; that one tries to add something to his or her life that is worth remembering. But that's just one of the reasons... Sometimes, the true reasons are just pathetic: heartbroken, embarrassment, revenge, depression, ...

Left wing, right wing: what about no wings?

I'm tired of this whole left and right wing perspectives. Can't people just have his or her own opinion on things? Sure, their opinions would be influenced by their backgrounds; whether they came from south or north, Americans or Asians, Democrats or Republics--but, don't people have their own innate opinions? Can't people create an original opinion without being influenced by society?

What society tells us is to divide things. Good or bad, right or wrong, white or black, left or right, pro or con--society complicates things. I'm sure people who are reading this are just thinking that I'm too naive. Well yes, I'm still 18 but I have my own views. In Indonesia, we don't have to divide between left and right. However, we have pro-Soekarno or pro-Soeharto. I suggest that this thing is actually weird. I can't decide whether I'm pro Soekarno or Soeharto, but obviously, I am pro-my parents.

To tell you the truth, I have to correct what I wrote in the previous paragraph. Honestly, I don't have my own views. I'm being influenced by my parents, teachers, friends, media, and even random people on the street. I divide things. I stereotype. I prejudice. I want these to stop; but I can't. These things have already engraved in me. I know that I should not stereotype people, but sometimes it's fun. Categorizing people is fun. However, we should be aware that we might ended up being judged by people. Moreover, when we've finally found out that we were wrong, we fell guilty. And that's the part that I don't like.

Dreams

Dream is essential for everyone. I'm not talking about dream such in dreams that we all experience every time we sleep. What I want to discuss is your dream, your aim, what are you going to do in the future, what triggers you to do what you do, your goal in life.

Why does dream essential for humans? Well this is not a hard question. Like I said, dream triggers you to do what you do---it means every action you do in your life is to reach your goals. You go to school, why, cause you want to be a smart person  in the future. You enroll into the best university in your country, why, because you want to learn from the best to be the best in the future. You take piano lessons, why, cause you want to be a pianist..or maybe you want to learn a vocation to be an asset when you have nothing to do during your pension years.

To dream itself gives you a gratification. Have you ever experience a great magnitude when you're dreaming to stand beside a person you love? By only dreaming of it, you'll feel like getting a reward. However, you can't stop here. People mostly stuck in this phase, always dreaming about his or her goals---but never try to reach it. These people are wasting their dreams. The good thing about dream is when you reach it, you will absolutely have a feeling of gratification 10 thousand times better than just dreaming about it!

Now, can you imagine a person who have no dreams at all? What would he be?

An Introduction to Journalism

To become a good journalist you need to do more than learn to interview, write stories and capture images. You must understand as much as you can about the world. A good explanation about why a liberal arts education is important was provided by the College of Letters and Science at the University of California, Berkeley. It said:

• a broad-based liberal arts education does more than prepare you for a job. It lays the foundation for   a future career... You learn to think independently and make sound judgments. You expand your horizons, discover new perspectives, and acquire the tools to defend your point of view. To be liberally educated is to be transformed. A liberal arts education frees your mind and helps you connect dots you never noticed before, so you can put your own field of study into a broader context. It enables you to form opinions and judgments, rather than defer to an outside authority (A Liberal Arts Education 2009).

So during your time at university, in addition to developing your understanding knowledge and skills relating to journalism, use the opportunity to learn what you can about history, geography, philosophy, politics, science, business, economics, health, music, sport, art and culture. Soak up all you can. Above all, be curious and learn how to learn. Then, for the rest of your life, and as you follow your dreams, you will be equipped to keep learning what your life dictates you need to learn. 

It is also important to understand from the start of journalism studies that there is more to journalism than news reporting. Many who study journalism will not spend their working lives employed by news organisations. Some will move into other fields. Some who start their studies with a burning ambition to become a print journalists will find themselves drawn more to radio or television. Others who aimed for radio might find they prefer print or online. But no matter which path you take, studying journalism should help you become a disciplined and effective writer. You should learn to write for radio, media law, appreciate the strong connections between journalism and democracy, and develop a compelling interest in news and current affairs. (Lamble, 2011)

Reference:

Stephen Lamble. (2011). Introduction. In: Natasha Broadstock News As It Happens. Australia: Oxford. pxi-xii.