tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38472696975408426352024-03-14T00:18:58.342+07:00Punctuationevery story needs a period.fanylihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12226759647470574552noreply@blogger.comBlogger154125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3847269697540842635.post-32281274518836631312017-08-01T13:42:00.000+07:002017-08-01T13:42:04.143+07:00Isi Hati yang BotjorHmm, jadi kamu pikir ini postingan menyoal galau, patah hati, sakit hati, dan kekecewaan yang erat kaitannya dengan cinta? Well, nyatanya, curhatan itu ngga melulu menyoal mimpi yang patah dan harapan yang tak kunjung hadir...<br />
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Ya emang tentang kegalauan sih.<br />
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Tapi galaunya beda.<br />
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Karena karyawan bank itu juga boleh dan bisa galau kan? Apalagi kalo dia menjabat sebagai seorang Relationship Manager. Sst, jangan terkecoh dengan namanya yang keren, yang tjakep. Karena pada hakekatnya itu, seorang RM (Relationship Manager) hanyalah seorang cungpret korporat, yang dunianya selalu ditindas kiri kanan atas bawah tanpa lemburan atau uang lebihan. Hidupnya bagai seseorang yang berjalan di malam kelam, menanti hadirnya sang rembulan. Seperti orang yang berjalan di padang tandus, dimana uang lemburan itu bagai serpihan oase fatamorgana...<br />
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Yah begitulah.<br />
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Para bos cuma tau target dan cara untuk mencapainya. Entah mereka punya degradasi perihal ingatan mereka atau cuma pura pura, tapi kami RM hanya manusia, bukan robot. Mereka sering lupa kalau pulang malam terus terusan itu ga baik buat kesehatan, tapi untuk pulang jam lima sore adalah hal yang tabu. Dan mereka sering khilaf kalo orang sakit itu butuh istirahat dan hiburan, bukannya ditelpon buat tanya ini itu perihal kerjaan yang mungkin bisa bikin si orang sakit lama sembuhnya.<br />
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Hmph...<br />
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Disitu sering saya menyesal kenapa dulu saya bersikeras bercita cita menjadi seorang banker.<br />
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Saat melakukan maintenance dan memo memo lainnya itu dianggap bukanlah kerjaan, atau telponin debitur/calon debitur untuk maintain relationship, melakukan pencairan plafond, order KJPP untuk perpanjangan laporan penilaian aset debitur/calon debitur, melakukan kunjungan ke kantor calon debitur tapi eh ujungnya ditolak, itu semua dianggap tidak bekerja. Mereka cuma mau hasil, tanpa peduli proses.<br />
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Yang namanya "jump to conclusion" itu bukannya instan dan ga ada proses lho ya. Kan "jump" dulu baru "conclusion"...<br />
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(bodo amat ga jelas, terserah saya aja)<o:p></o:p></div>
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Capek? Tentu.</div>
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Lelah? Ga perlu ditanya lah.</div>
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Bosan? Hufft.</div>
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Yang saya tau itu Tuhan tidak tidur. Gusti Allah mboten sare. Mungkin belum cukup saya terima perlakuan yang ngga adil dan pilih kasih dari kantor, karena kalo udah cukup, saya pasti udah ngga disini lagi. Udah kelar jadi RM, udah jadi ibu rumah tangga sekaligus mahmud pengusaha. Jadi ibu kost.</div>
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Cuma bisa menganggap ini semua sejenis "tabungan", reward nya nanti saat udah penuh tabungannya, baru bisa enak diambil dan dinikmatin.</div>
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Yah, biar tetep waras, mesti sering sering inget Allah dan ademin hati dan kepala sendiri.</div>
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Daripada emosi ditahan mulu, ntar malah pusing.</div>
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Tapi ini kok udah pusing :(</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
fanylihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12226759647470574552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3847269697540842635.post-22095831652173989902017-05-05T15:34:00.004+07:002017-05-05T15:59:23.451+07:00That Himalayan CatHi Paw!<br />
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Udah lama banget sejak terakhir kali saya ngeblog. Sampe sampe saat mau sign in ke blog saya ini, saya lupa pake email yang mana dan apa password-nya. Padahal, dulu waktu masih banyak waktu senggang dan ga ribet hal ini itu, dalam waktu sehari saya bisa punya dua ide (yang menurut saya) menarik untuk diposting.<br />
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Dan jujur aja, setelah saya berhasil sign in ke blogger ini, saya malah bingung dan ide yang kemarin-kemarin dateng pas lagi di wc, berdiri di bus, kepanasan di angkot, keujanan pas di gojek; semuanya musnah. Saya cuma terbengong-bengong depan laptop suami (cieee.. iya, suami. sekarang saya udah dobel. bobo di kasur dobel, dompet dobel, ktp dobel, pun berat badan jadi dobel) sampe akhirnya seekor kucing keturunan himalayan yang lusuh, kotor, dan lapar menghampiri saya di depan pintu kamar kost, yang sengaja saya buka.<br />
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Saat itu sedang hujan sedang, Saya yang suka suara hujan, udara, dan ademnya, sengaja buka pintu kamar kost sembari cari ide buat posting blog. Karena ide mampet, jadi saya habiskan 30 menit pertama bersihin inbox, trash folder, dan spam folder email sampai akhirnya si kucing datang.<br />
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Bunyi 'srek srek' itu menandakan kalo ada kucing yang lagi nyari sisa makanan dari tempat sampah depan kamar kost saya. Dan saya sebagai penyuka kucing, langsung paham, nengok keluar sambil bawa dry cat food buat siapapun kucing diluar kamar kost yang lagi ngusrak ngusrek tempat sampah saya.<br />
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Ternyata si Himalayan lusuh ini. Saya pernah kasih makan dia, tepat sehari sebelum postingan ini dibuat. It was clear to see that this cat was abandoned, or perhaps, abandoned <b>and</b> abused. I mean, he's a himalayan cat! Mana ada di Indonesia kucing ras hidup dijalanan kalo dia bukan kucing buangan? You know what I mean. Dia sebenernya kucing mahal, dan... selanjutnya paham lah ya.<br />
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To note that he doesn't meow. Saya ga paham dia itu apa emang dari kecil dibuang sampe ga bisa mengeong, atau dia punya trauma sampe akhirnya dia berenti ngeong, atau juga, dia dari orok emang ga bisa ngeong semacam tunawicara gitu. Allahualam, either he's mute or just quite.<br />
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Dan sebenernya kucing ini kucing penurut. Habis dia selesai makan sisa kulit ayam plus dry food, saya minta dia duduk nungguin saya. Dia gak kemana mana tuh. Saat dipanggil 'hei puss..' dia juga mau nengok. Walau sampai saat ini, dia masih belum mau untuk dielus.<br />
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I wish I could do something to make his life better. I've got constraints yang bikin saya ga bisa memahami si kucing lebih jauh. He's a good cat. Whatever had happened to him, I know Allah is watching him. Allah gonna make sure this cat get proper food, at least some food for the day.<br />
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Selain kucing ini, ada juga kucing keturunan ras lainnya yang hidup di jalan. Ngga seperti kucing kampung di komplek ini yang takutan sama manusia, kucing keturunan ras yang sudah saya temui ini ngerti dan ngga penakut. Mereka ramah, mau dielus, dan nurut. Sigh, semoga kecurigaan saya ini salah, bahwa dia juga kucing yang sengaja dibuang.<br />
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Today's lesson is, I will teach my kids to take real responsibility if they wanna have a pet; to take real good care for the pet. Cos pets are not pest. They're living creatures just like us human. They breathe, they have feelings, and eventually they'll die just like human. Bahkan Baginda Rasul berkata bahwa ada pahala pada setiap yang bernyawa. Ga ada salahnya kan, menyayangi kucing liar?<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Si Himalayan yang mulai bisa santai dan enjoy</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"><i>Karena saat kita menyayangi apa yang ada di bumi, mereka pun balik menyayangi kita.</i></span></div>
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Mau adopsi? Cari aja si kucing himalayan ini di Jalan Zaitun I Islamic Village, Karawaci, Tangerang. He's homeless, so he should be somewhere di jalan/depan rumah/depan kosan warga dekat sini.<br />
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: x-small;"><i><u>DISCLAIMER</u></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: x-small;"><i>Post ini bukan bermaksuk sombong ataupun pamer. Murni hanya bermaksud untuk bercerita dan berbagi. Lebih untung lagi kalo sampe ada yang terinspirasi.</i></span></div>
fanylihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12226759647470574552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3847269697540842635.post-52176314879008403582016-08-15T20:44:00.002+07:002016-08-15T20:49:56.074+07:00In Memoriam: Boy the CatHi again.<br />
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Do you still remember the cat, black and white, angora, that I post a lot in this blog?<br />
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Yep, he's Boy Sitampan. The cat that I have always loved, remembered, and will always be dearly missed.<br />
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It has been 7 months since the last time I touched his fluffy fur, hug his fat belly, heard his soft meows, and saw his round yellow eyes.</div>
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Boy has gone. He's now happy up there. Yea. He told me so as he visited me once in my dream.</div>
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And how could I ever be so in love with a cat--you asked?</div>
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Because he's a very nice cat. </div>
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You might not know it but he felt me the way I was. He was there when I cried. He put his paw to my cheek and just sat/slept next to me and let out his purrs that calmed me down. He understood me. One time when I was alone at home, I told him not to go out. He stayed. Another time when I was alone again at home and he needed to poo (he never liked to poo in the poo poo box. He always went outside), I begged him to not be long out there. Guess what, he returned exactly in no time.</div>
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Ah yea. When I was cooking in the kitchen and he always waited for me to finish cooking (before he took a food test on my cooking). When I was scared to sleep alone and I took him to my bedroom and he just rolled and slept next to me. When I called out his name and he ran to me. When I was sick and needed to have some bed rest and he had always been there. And his quick response whenever I said "susu" (milk). He just ran towards me and begged for real bowls of milk. Oh, he loved bear brand milk a lot he could finish two cans of it in a day.</div>
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He's just so special.</div>
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He's not a cat. He's a family member to me.</div>
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<i>Boy as he curled up with me when I was sick.</i></div>
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<i>The cat that demanded for milk so much.</i></div>
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<i>His number one ability was to be lazy during the day and the night.</i></div>
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But how could I be so clueless when he was sick? He was so sick that he needed me to go home and saw him, pet him, just be with him like he had always done to me. And at that moment, I chose to be else where. I was thinking that it was for my future good. But not for his...</div>
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Mum told me as I was home that Boy meowed a lot as if he looked for me. He waited before the door, hoped that I would open the door and pour some milk to his bowl. I bet he expected me to give him food with my hand, he always liked that. He wanted me to see me, before he finally....</div>
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...gone.</div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: x-small;">Boy,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: x-small;">Percaya deh, kakak kangen banget sama Boy.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: x-small;">Kepengen lagi main sama Boy.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: x-small;">Mandiin Boy. Elus elus Boy. Suapin Boy.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: x-small;">Boy. Boyot. Boyopi. Boyoyo.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: x-small;">Apapun nama yang kakak panggil buat kamu,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: x-small;">Artinya cuma satu, Boy.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: x-small;">Kakak sayang sama Boyot.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: x-small;">Boy bukan kucing, Boy itu keluarga.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: x-small;">Boy,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: x-small;">Terima kasih atas segalanya.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: x-small;">Maafin kakak ngga bisa ngeliat Boy.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: x-small;">Kita ketemu lagi ya Boy.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: x-small;">Nanti, di surganya Allah.</span></div>
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fanylihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12226759647470574552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3847269697540842635.post-26786853019545471472016-08-15T20:11:00.001+07:002016-08-15T20:35:00.476+07:00Things Will Never Be The Same AgainIt has been quite a long time for me to catch up on things and write again. I have been fed up with many things, they said that this is adulthood--facing something real. Like paying the credit card bills, paying your own rent, buying your own meals, working your a** off in order to pay the bills, the rent, and the food.<br />
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Well... the thing is, since May 2016 things won't be the same again. I am engaged. To a man who rarely ever be romantic to me. To a man who has never given me a damn real rose. To a man I have been dating with for the past three years.</div>
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<i><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: x-small;">My Dear God,</span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: x-small;">Make my choice is Your choice too.</span></i></div>
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It's been quite a while. Me and him had so much to go through until we finally ended up engaged. It wasn't full of happy moment with cheers and laugh. It wasn't all that sad cry-baby moments as well. We've gone through it. We made it. Until what we are now.</div>
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I admit it that he only does romantic at the very first of our date. I know that he never buys me single lovely red rose that every girl wishes and would keep until the petals are dried. I asked for a rose. Yet he has never intended to buy it for me, I think. He also barely ever holds my hand in public. No such thing is public displayed affection in his dictionary while he dates me. He didn't surprise me on my birthdays, he never gives me a cute-wrapped gifts to impress me. He doesn't call me love, or honey, or baby, or sweety, or any other sweet calls to bae.</div>
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I thought I needed those.</div>
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I thought I needed a rose, I thought I needed gifts wrapped with pink ribbons.</div>
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I never thought I would ever be needed his guidance. Moreover, his acceptance---</div>
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--of me. His acceptance of me. Me being me. I being who I am.</div>
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How could I ever be so selfish that after all this time I didn't realise what he has given me...?</div>
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He doesn't give me rose. But he pays meal for two. He doesn't give me cute-wrapped present in pink ribbon. He helped me to buy something I really want, instead. He doesn't do romance, but he thinks so much of my safety. He said I must not go home late. Girls aren't made to out at night, he said. Or that time when he visited me only to fix my motorcycle issues. That moment when he said my suit wasn't right for me, boys will think of me the other way if I had been in that suit. And when he was mad when I told him that I argued with some boys on the way home just because they didn't drive well. He was afraid if something ever happened to me. I mean, they were boys, and I'm just a girl.</div>
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Yes, he doesn't allow me to post something like all cute couples do on instagram, twitter, path, or any other social medias--you name it. "But why?" I asked him more than once. "Adults are not the way you think of. There are more real things to think of. Meaning, there are thing that is OK to share with people and there are things otherwise. And affection are for ourselves, nor for the world to watch.", he told me.</div>
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I asked him for surprises like lots of time. He never did give me once. But he has always been the number one person who wish on my birthdays. He would text me like every time to assure that I am getting well if I'm sick. He would text my mum to pick me up in kost (we live apart, Jakarta vs Tangerang) and take me to the hospital if I happen to be very sick and alone. He buys me some healthy drinks, only to make me feel better and warm...</div>
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Oh, how I have been busy with myself all along. I have been being a very demanding girlfriend so far. Yet he still can accept me.</div>
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Yes he does.</div>
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All those anger, all those don'ts, are for me. So I keep myself safe from any harm.</div>
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And I have never really thought of that.</div>
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">My Dear God,</span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Bless us with Your love and cares.</span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Make us always falls in love over and over again. </span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">From now on, until our marriage.</span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">From our marriage, until forever.</span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">From forever, until You set us together again in Jannah.</span></i></div>
fanylihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12226759647470574552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3847269697540842635.post-58691856836539554282016-01-06T19:00:00.000+07:002016-01-06T19:00:02.600+07:00Kalo Boleh BercandaKalo boleh bercanda,<br />
<br />
Tuhan pasti sedang geleng-geleng kepala ngeliat kelakuan gue. Mungkin Ybs lagi ngejitak gue saking keras kepalanya gue. Mungin Dia lagi ngedumel, <i>"ni bocah udah Gue kasitauin ntar aja (atau gak bisa, atau bukan dia), masiiihh aja nangis nangis mewek minta mulu".</i><br />
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Yah, mungkin aja. Kalo boleh bercanda.<br />
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Dan kalo boleh bercanda,<br />
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Mungkin malaikat capek nulis di bukunya tentang nama yang gue sebut sebut mulu. Mungkin tadi pas gue berdoa dia nulis sambil ngebatin, <i>"ah elah. Lu lagi lu lagi nama yang ni bocah sebut".</i><br />
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Kali aja sih. Kalo boleh bercanda.<br />
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Tapi mau gimana lagi. Gue sendiri bingung. Mau pasrah gitu aja tapi kok gimanaaa gitu rasanya. Soalnya Tuhan pernah janji katanya kalo minta sama Dia, akan dikabulin. Terus, doa itu bisa ngubah takdir. Jadilah gue dengan keras kepala dan keinginan gue berdoa dan minta mulu sama Tuhan.<br />
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Perjalanan emang panjang banget. Gak mulus. Banyak kerikil, jalan rusak, polisi tidur. Tapi itu semua gue jalanin. Terus jalanin. Walau kadang mikir, apa ini semua setimpal dengan apa yang bakal gue dapet di kemudian hari. Hmm. Dibilang gambling ya bukan, tapi dibilang bukan hasilnya ngga pasti juga. <i>And at this point I am so afraid if the result would be anything disappointed.</i><br />
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Kalo boleh bercanda,<br />
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Tuhan mungkin lagi senyum senyum nantangin gue, apa gue bisa bertahan dalam perjalanan ini. Apa gue bisa tahan banting untuk sesuatu yang gue idamkan. Untuk menuju ke ujung terowongan dimana ada balon balon, pelangi, dan tulisan di awan yang bilang <i>"Congratulations for passing the test!".</i><br />
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Kalo emang beneran,<br />
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Yaudah, gue ambil tantangan itu.<br />
Tuhan pasti akan ngedengerin dan nepatin janjiNya, mengabulkan doa gue.<br />
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Kali ini bukan bercanda, karena gue yakin, Allah akan mengabulkan doa dan permohonan gue--<i>if I try a lil bit harder. Which I will.</i>fanylihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12226759647470574552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3847269697540842635.post-17537395823993902672015-12-13T11:29:00.000+07:002015-12-13T11:29:56.992+07:00Why It's You?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Don't ask me why on earth I have loved you all my heart. I just knew it right when we were young and knew each other for the very first time. There ia something in you I realised that if I don't be with you I could suffer.<br />
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And even though I hate it when you're being angry too much, but I know you hate me every time I get jealous too much. I think that's quite a deal.<br />
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I don't care what people told you about you stuffed chubby cheeks cos I looovvveeee it so much. They look good on you and you have that kind of thing I can pinch for fun! ;D<br />
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I wish to God you could always stand by me, treat me well like I should, be a good company on my rough days, and carry me with you wherever you will go.<br />
<br />fanylihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12226759647470574552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3847269697540842635.post-77439001662127039232015-11-29T20:36:00.000+07:002015-11-29T20:36:05.092+07:00SHIFT.It's quite some times I haven't been in touch with this random-thoughts-to-post on such blog. Work loads and everything apparently have successfully killed my leisure time (including time to write). My job now as a Commercial Loan Relationship Manager ruined my expectation of how working in a bank should be. Oh well, since I have officially sold my young-wild-free life to this bank, then I really need to work this a$$ off of 24 hours 7 days a week without any excuses. Like, SERIOUSLY.<br />
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Anyway, I don't wanna put my mood down cos I wanna write some other big deal that can shift my life besides working.<br />
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<i>Yeaaaaaa, you knooowwww... you guys know me soo weeeelllll....</i><br />
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Next January will be our third year. I have known this guy like forever. We've overcome times of the hardest, the most jealousy days. There was time when he gave me so much love that I was overwhelmed; nevertheless there was also time when he act so cold - I froze!<br />
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Yet, the rockiest part of our journey hasn't begun.<br />
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I believe there's gonna be a miraculous day that he with all his family pay a visit to my house - meet my parents, brothers, and my cats. It would not only be a casual family meeting but it will be extraordinary for my family (his had already done such family meeting four times for his elder brothers) for this one's gonna be my family's first time.<br />
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Ah, I can't wait to see what happens next... Will that be like those girls' post on social medias? Will I be overwhelmed by Allah's blessings? How it feels like? What would I do after that? What dress should I wear on the D day? Who should I invite? Is that okay to spread the word? When will the D day be? So many many many things hang on my mind even though the day's not yet to come.<br />
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Despite all that stuff, I wish to Allah he wont get distracted anymore. This is for our own sake, for everything we've gone through. For every reason we hang on to, and every struggle we beat.<br />
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I'm just ready for another shift in my life!<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Dear Allah,</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>I have been so alone, please don't make me do a night without anyone by my side.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Let him be the one for me.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Let me be the only one for him.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>And never have I lost my faith in You, Gusti Allah.</i></span></div>
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<br />fanylihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12226759647470574552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3847269697540842635.post-29587185039924101702015-07-11T20:07:00.003+07:002015-07-11T20:07:31.239+07:00tomorrow. ..<br />
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Oh I love you.<br />
For every sentimental reason.<br />
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Your laugh. Your smile. Your cares. Your eyes. Your lips. Your warmth.<br />
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Even when you're angry, I would still love you.<br />
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I love you enough to let you go.<br />
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I wouldn't have enough guts to make you stay for nothing with me.<br />
It would cause me tears but I'm used to cry alone at night.<br />
It would cause my heart so much ache but it'll eventually be cured seeing you laugh happily.<br />
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I love you. I do.<br />
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And it's enough to let you walk away.<br />
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Take good care, darling.<br />
Thank you so much for the effort.<br />
Forgive me.<br />
<br />
Tomorrow, you'll be seeing me for the last time.<br />
<br />
I love you, mas.<br />
<br />
I really do.<br />
<br />fanylihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12226759647470574552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3847269697540842635.post-54815553910830434402014-09-14T00:06:00.001+07:002014-09-14T00:06:41.040+07:00Share a Little ShareHi. Been a long while ya since the last time I posted a post. Kinda miss writing tho. Err, blogging, literally. And this time, I would like to share my newly-built career path.<br />
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Here it goes.<br />
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It all started when I was officially hired by an educational institution: Wall Street Institute -- which has already changed its name into Wall Street English -- as a Personal Tutor (PT). It is a school of English, and yes, as my job title was Personal Tutor, so I taught students starting from high school teens up to adults. I met unstable, moody kind of teens; charming uni student of Industrial Engineering (uuu~ I was so mesmerized by this person hehe); busy managers of well-known companies; one <i>rempong </i>housewife; and grandpas who always came with their grandchildren.<br />
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It was fun, and teaching was one of my favourite thing to do. Being a PT had marked one thing on my check list. I had a dream back then when I was so young, to be a teacher. I have been, then. It was a great one.<br />
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And talking about my PT fellas, there were Arien (married recently. When's mine? Duh), Ephil (who lived in Mexico for certain years and now works in Mexican Embassy), Oso (was -- or is still? hmm -- an artist of duo 'Duette'), Azis, Cenmi (whose full name is Cenmidtal, an abbreviation of Central Middlesex Hospital, a hospital in England where he was born), Dini (a cafe singer. Published her first indie album last year), and Tiffany (now still a PT for Alam Sutera branch). There were also ECs or Educational Consultants that I friends with, and of course the <i>bule. </i>Hehe.<br />
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Dean Rogers - Me - Tessa Frenche</div>
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Haifa - Arien - Me - David Rhys - Tanti - Azis on WSI Award Night</div>
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I was nominated as Favourite PT :'></div>
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Great karaoke time together</div>
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Oso's birthday blast</div>
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After Christmas Celebration Night</div>
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<i style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Cos my job's got me goin nowhere so I aint got a thing to lose~</span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Take me to a place where I don't care</span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">This is me and my liquor store blues~</span></i></div>
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<i><span style="color: #134f5c;">Bruno Mars - Liquor Store Blues</span></i></div>
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Knowing that I had much fun there being a PT, but there was this goal that I pursued so much: be a banker. Yup, I was really longing to be a banker. I resigned on February 2013, went to Yogya, visiting <i>you-know-who</i> for a month, got back to Bekasi on April and applied in Coca Cola Amatil Indonesia as Employee Settlement Officer, Finance Department.<br />
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There in CCAI was more serious than one I had in Wall Street Institute as my very first jumping stone. Both my director and manager were Australian <i>bule</i>, tho my supervisor was Indonesian. I was still urged to use English both when I talk directly or when I write emails to the <i>bule</i>. However, I found an interest in CCAI since I was paid big enough and its working culture was clicked to mine. Very free, yet still discipline. Everything was scored by performance. People there wouldn't mind how you dress or what make ups you're wearing. Or even what time would you get in the office and checked out as long as you have finished daily tasks. What they mind mostly was your highly accepted performance. That, I agreed.</div>
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CCAI has brought me to these people. Most of them are 2-3 years older than me and they shared mostly about their husband and other housewifery thingy. Just like my big sisters, that was what they meant to me.</div>
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Just a moment to capture</div>
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Then I moved on from CCAI to where I work now. It's a bank, a government bank. Even -- frankly speaking -- CCAI changed the way I have always wanted to be a banker, but I had wanted it so much, and then I got the chance. That was when I joined BUMN Career Days, dropped cv reluctantly and attended the first interview held there, somehow brought me to what I am now. An ODP Batch 121 member who is undergoing my In Service Training as a Relationship Manager -- which I avoid so much!!! But I guess it's true that when you avoid something so much somehow you'll be dragged into that something you hate -- in SKC Melawai Raya.</div>
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Tell ya, being in ODP 121 family <strike>was</strike> is great. Ups and downs, laughter and cries, friends or lover, and everything all in. Can't describe much about this special thing, can only feel it with the heart. Heheh.</div>
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They're now spread out in Indonesia. One Padang, Batam, Jambi, Medan, Palembang, Lampung, ten people (including me) are in Jakarta, another one in Kupang, Samarinda, and Pare Pare. I'm sure we'll see again sooner than soon!</div>
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<span style="color: #b45f06; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><i>(hayooo... been waiting for the photos with your face in it yaaaa hahahaha :p)</i></span></div>
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Along with Pak Raswan, our homeroom</div>
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With Bu Selvy Monalisa, a lecturer in UI with her uniqueness</div>
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Grup Akar Wangi</div>
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Yogyakarta all-in-a-day trip goers</div>
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Mendadak shopping</div>
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Dim Sum freaks, haha</div>
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<span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>Thank you for your every effort to deal with all I am.</b></span></div>
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fanylihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12226759647470574552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3847269697540842635.post-3112567439468530792013-10-15T22:13:00.001+07:002013-10-16T19:35:53.493+07:00London Grammar - Strong<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>LONDON GRAMMAR - STRONG</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">(lyric video)</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>One Day, </i></span><br>
<i>I'll be sitting on the front-left side of a car, looking at the city lights and everything goes on with it and everything that's on the road, through the window, while I listen to this song.</i><br>
<i><br></i>
<i>Neurons in my head are gonna take me back to some old memories, to some places where all things happened, at some points where I had been--I could never forget. They're gonna throw me back to that first meetings of </i>me and him <i>or </i>me and him <i>or </i>me and him, <i>and everything that came after it; all the sweetest things, all the sweetest nights; all the hurts, all the break-ups, and all the cries. They're also gonna put me back to where I was so damn down, to where I was at my lowest point when "we" was no longer existed.</i><br>
<i><br></i>
<i>The road, the lights, the cars, and the trees that I'm seeing through the car's window on that One Day, will show me those moments as if I'm watching live opera. Yes, a live opera. Starring: me. And </i>him, <i>and </i>him, <i>and </i>him<i>--in sequence. A live opera, audience: me. I'm gonna watch the opera until the song fades away.</i><br>
<i><br></i>
<i>And I'm gonna sigh at it, at first.</i><br>
<i><br></i>
<i>Yea I'm sure I'm gonna sigh of every memory playing over and over and over again.</i><br>
<i><br></i>
<i>But on that One Day, when I listen to this song while memories taking me back to some moments of my life, there's gonna be a chosen lucky man sitting next to me, on the right side of the car, driving. And I'm gonna smile at him.</i><br>
<i><br></i>
<i>I'm gonna smile at him, and at everything I've paid to get to him. He'll know how strong I have been, he'll know how loud I have spoken, and he'll understand how wrong I have been for having doubt that I might not be in love again after all the hurts.</i><br>
<i><br></i>
<i>I'm gonna be in love with him--and so is he. We'll pass the road together, we both will see moonlight underneath the dark sky, we will smile at every thing in our past, and perhaps we'll thank each of them who brought us to that One Day. And yes, we'll go to the same destination by the same road we choose.</i><br>
<i><br></i>
<i>On that One Day.</i><br>
<i><br></i>
<i><br></i>
<i>Till that One Day, I just gotta be strong.</i>fanylihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12226759647470574552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3847269697540842635.post-55428620608034171872013-08-23T21:11:00.000+07:002013-08-23T21:27:12.414+07:00Undies?Okay. I <strike>left</strike> abandoned this blog for a little too long. Webs could be every inch on the wall, if this were a room. I get it now, that saying that as we step into another pace of life, nothing will ever stay the same. True. This blogging activity, for instance. If you notice.<br />
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It has been some times that I thought about <strike>writing</strike> posting again. Sometime I had it all in my mind--everything that I was going to write about. However, whenever I sat with my laptop on, everything I had in mind just... evaporated that easy.</div>
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Anyway, tryna post some thoughts again tonight. Let's see if I'll make it thru or not. Hmm... I'll probably start with this one.</div>
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<span style="color: #666666; font-size: x-small;"><i>A little clarify: I might be a muslimah who wears hijab but I'm still a free-spirited writer--umm, blogger.</i></span></div>
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I once read about a quote saying that whenever a girl wear the same undies colour--top and bottom--unintentionally, then she'll know that day is going to be her super fine day. So that day, I wore the same undies colour. I was thinking that day was gonna be bright or something but it was just the same ordinary day. The first time I realized I was wearing matching colour I was like "whoa they match! Yea baby, my day's gonna be so damn fine!" but at the end of the day, I realized nothing to be wow-ed about.</div>
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The only thing I fully understand about undies is that women really have to wear em <i>every day</i> in the most comfortable way. Hmm... if matching colour undies help women to elevate her comfort... hmm... probably that's what the saying tries to say. If women feel comfort with everything they wear, then the day will be just fine, no? I see the point.</div>
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Okay. Since by the time I'm <strike>writing</strike> typing this post I'm sick--been having a bad flu. Plus migraine. Now I feel like something's been pounding on my right head and I'm currently gasping for air by my mouth cos I can't breathe normally thru my nose--so I think this is it my post.</div>
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Ha-ha. First come-back post and I'm talking about undies. -_-</div>
fanylihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12226759647470574552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3847269697540842635.post-13373245150242524702013-06-03T20:29:00.000+07:002013-06-03T20:40:39.076+07:00Bandung: Perfect Memory Scenes (Narrative)<div class="MsoNormal">
This narration was made in order to join a blog (bandungunite.blogspot.com--which, I found out recently was deleted) with any post about Bandung. Yea, so I made this. But this has never been published before. Once again, this one is a naration. So here it is!<br />
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<blockquote>
<i>Gue bukan orang Bandung. Ke Bandung pun jarang, bisa
dihitung dalam setahun dan mungkin bisa kurang dari 5 kali dalam setahun itu
untuk gue mengunjungi Bandung. Gue ga punya siapa-siapa di Bandung. </i>Well, not
that I don't have acquaintance or friends in Bandung, but... you know what I
mean.</blockquote>
<blockquote>
<i>Gue ga tau jalan - jalan apa di Bandung; tempat - tempat </i>hangout<i> apa aja selain
yang udah pernah gue denger dan gue datengin sebelumnya. Bahkan gue lupa
sekarang, kemana aja tempat yang udah pernah gue datengin. Dan gue pun selalu
berasumsi kalau Bandung itu sama aja sama kota Metropolitan ini. Kota macet,
kota ramai. Kota dimana orang orang berusaha mencari peluang dengan membuka
tempat tempat </i>hangout<i> yang menurutnya punya diferensiasi produk atau jasa dan
posisi tersendiri di benak konsumennya. Kota yang mungkin sebentar lagi mungkin
bakal banyak gedung gedung pencakar langit seperti disini. </i>Simply, it's not a
city to escape for me<i>.</i></blockquote>
<blockquote>
<i>Tapi entah kenapa, gue selalu penasaran ke Bandung. Menelusuri jalan jalan yang
dulu pernah kita lewatin. Datang ke tempat tempat yang waktu itu pernah kita
datengin. Atau dengan singkat, mengenang semua yang pernah kita lalui.</i></blockquote>
<blockquote>
<i>Masih gue inget jalan jalan yang kita lalui, walau gue lupa apa nama jalannya.
Gue juga inget waktu kita tersasar di Bandung, karena kita sama sama bukan
berasal dari sana. Waktu kita naik angkot, lalu turun, makan di warung makan
lesehan khas Sunda, dan kita baru tersadar kalau kita ga tau ada dimana kita
saat itu. Lalu Kamu, dengan ke-sok-tau-an Kamu, bilang kalau kita harus naik
angkot yang lain, dan tanpa bertanya sama kang supir, kita naik, dan setelah
beberapa saat perjalanan kita masih juga ga tau kita ada dimana.</i></blockquote>
<blockquote>
<i>Waktu sudah sore saat kita tersasar itu. Dan bukannya berusaha bertanya - tanya
jalan untuk pulang, Kamu malah mengajak gue untuk berwisata kuliner. Surabi,
mie kocok, cimol... sampai - sampai tanpa pikir panjang kita beli peuyeum
dengan alasan buat oleh - oleh dari Bandung.</i></blockquote>
<blockquote>
And when the sunshine finally faded away<i>, Kamu baru sadar kalau kita harus
segera pulang. And you finally lowered your pride, lalu bertanya sama orang
orang tentang jalan dan cara kita pulang. Yup, akhirnya kita naik angkot yang
benar dan tanpa tersasar lagi, kita pulang.</i></blockquote>
<blockquote>
The next day, you picked me up from my friend's flat where I stayed for that
two memorable days. I wouldn't want to feel that my right ankle was actually in
pain since the previous day we had, as we walked and walked and walked through
the road. Anyway. Our agenda that day was to go to Ciampelas. <i>Kita berjalan - jalan seperti biasa saat disana. Berhenti hanya untuk makan,
duduk dan beristirahat sambil terus mengobrol tentang apa saja. Kita
menertawakan orang lain. Kita ngerjain SPG di salah satu toko dengan
menyuruhnya mengambil ini itu lalu dengan santainya kita pergi dan tidak
membeli apa - apa. Kita mencoba pernak - pernik tapi kita juga tidak
membelinya. Hahaha, Kamu. Selalu membuat gue tersenyum simpul saat </i>scene -
scene<i> tentang kita disana terulang lagi di benak gue.</i></blockquote>
<blockquote>
<i>Cuma satu yang pada saat itu berhasil gue bawa pulang dalam bentuk nyata.
Beberapa hasil </i>photo booth<i>. Dan dari semua hasil itu, cuma ada satu dimana Kamu
tersenyum manis. Sisanya, muka Kamu jelek semua...</i></blockquote>
<blockquote>
<i>Yup. Hanya beberapa lembar foto berukuran 2R sebagai hasil nyata kalau gue
sudah pergi ke Bandung. Bahkan peuyeum yang saat itu kita beli pun tertinggal
di kost-an temen gue. Hahaha. Ya, hanya foto dan kenangan.</i></blockquote>
<blockquote>
<i>Kamu. Dan kenangan kita beberapa tahun lalu. Di Bandung. Dan hanya di Bandung.
Kadang gue berharap, suatu saat nanti ketika gue melintasi kota Bandung dengan
mobil gue, gue akan bertemu sama Kamu. Lalu (mungkin) mengajak Kamu duduk di
bangku sebelah kiri gue. Lalu gue (mungkin) mengajak Kamu melintasi lagi jalan
- jalan yang dulu pernah kita lalui dengan angkot. </i>And then let the memory finds us.</blockquote>
<blockquote>
<i>Diantara semua keramaian di kota itu, selalu ada harapan yang gue keluarkan.
Kamu.</i></blockquote>
<blockquote>
<i>Bandung itu Kamu. Ya, Kamu.</i></blockquote>
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<blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">When you see me like this (see me
like this)</span></i></blockquote>
</blockquote>
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><span style="font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">And when I see you like that (see you like that)</span></i><i><span style="font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">
</span></i></span></blockquote>
</blockquote>
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><span style="font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Then we see what we want to see—all comin back to me</span></i><i><span style="font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span></i></span></blockquote>
</blockquote>
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><span style="font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The flesh and the fantasies—all comin back to me</span></i><i><span style="font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">
</span></i></span></blockquote>
</blockquote>
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I can barely recall, but it's all comin back to me now</span></i></blockquote>
</blockquote>
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i><span style="font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Meatloaf ft. Marion Raven – It’s All
Comin Back to Me No</span>w</span></i></blockquote>
</blockquote>
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<blockquote>
<i><span style="font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;"></span></i><i><span style="color: #31849b; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-themecolor: accent5; mso-themeshade: 191;"><span style="color: #783f04;">narrative story
by @fanyhervilita</span></span></i></blockquote>
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<span style="color: #999999; font-size: x-small;">*damn, berasa kemakan tulisan sendiri. hanya saja bukan di Bandung. Tapi Jogjakarta. Bersama si dia, si Kapten. Kaliurang, Condongcatur, Pogung, Bantul, Kota Gede~~~* </span><br />
<!--[endif]--><i><o:p></o:p></i></div>
fanylihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12226759647470574552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3847269697540842635.post-7571201588925265042013-04-16T19:10:00.000+07:002013-04-16T20:10:14.791+07:00This Unsettled Settlement Officer<i><span style="color: #660000;">"I got a new job now on the unemployment line..."</span></i><br />
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Begitu deh, sepenggal lirik The Script (For the First Time) yang nyentil banget di kepala gue. Berasa disindir luar dalem.<br />
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Jadi gini. I had a job as a Personal Tutor in Wall Street Institute Indonesia, at Pondok Indah Mall. I spent three and half months there working in mall-hour shift. It was definitely awesome. I got a chance working with bule, made friends with my students no matter how young or old they were, gained new experience, proved my English proficiency, and yes, my dear reader, I got an amazing chance to obtain a working experience.<br />
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But then in February, I decided to resign. Yes, it was a hard decision. Gue pake nangis nangis bombay nelfon seseorang buat cerita soal beginian. Singkat cerita, resign lah gue dari perusahaan edukasi premium multinasional itu. Some said I was stupid, karena gue main resign resign aja gitu, padahal belum dapet pengganti kerjaan atau rencana lanjut studi S2. But I guess they were wrong.<br />
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Setelah Februari kan Maret, tho? <span style="font-size: x-small;">(yaiyalah fan. ga mutu e)</span> Nah, selama bulan Maret itulah gue dengan bangga menyandang status pengangguran yang gue bawa sampe ke Daerah Istimewa Yogyakarta selama hampir sebulan penuh. Ngapain gue disana? Hayooo kepoooo. Mau tau aja apa mau tau bangeeeeetttt??<br />
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Setengah puas nge-hedon ke Jogja, gue balik lagi ke Jakarta--eh Bekasi deng--dengan status pengangguran melarat. Dompet isinya cuma receipt receipt indomaret, mirota, superindo, super sambal, nota laundy, tiket kereta api pulang pergi, dan recehan. Eh by the way, laundry disana murah amir loh! Tiga rebu rupiah meeenn per kilo! Ter-hah-hah sambil melotot gue. Seumur-umur gak pernah gue ngelaundry dengan harga segitu. Bahkan ada juga loooh yang cuma dua rebu lima ratus! Err, oke ini norak.<br />
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So where was I again? Oh, yes.<br />
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Jadi itu adalah sebuah kejadian yang tak terduga. Somehow I would say it's the plan of God. Kalo katanya Paulo Coelho itu, "maktub". Ada teman sekampus gue bernama Fresnel <span style="font-size: x-small;">(iya, si Best Student ituloh, yang pernah gue sebut juga di post gue)</span> yang pada sore hari galau, nge-bbm gue nanyain nomer handphone salah satu dosen IBS. Gue kasih dong. Tapi nyambi. Sambil nanya apa di kantornya ada lowongan atau kagak buat pengangguran bergaya-Jakarta-tampang-Batak-mental-Gombong macem gue. Eeh tak disangka, doi malah nawarin posisi satu ini nih, Settlement Officer namanya.<br />
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<i><span style="color: #999999;">Thanks a lot, Fres! :D</span></i><br />
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Setelah gue interview dan medical check-up, diterimalah gue officially sebagai si Settlement Officer ini. Biarpun cuma kawin kontrak--ngg maksudnya karyawan kontrak--but I guess it's gonna be worth it.<br />
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Dan inilah saya, Diofany Hervilita alias Fany alias kakak alias poni alias mak alias dugong yang akan menjadi seorang karyawan di perusahaan multinasional yang menjual minuman bersoda yang sudah terkenal dan merajalela yang harga sahamnya lumayan mahal. Segala impian gue menjadi seorang banker mungkin sudah harus disisihkan ya... ._.<br />
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Settlement Officer. Mudah-mudahan sesuai namanya hidup gue yang belum stabil bisa jadi settle. Jiwa gue settle, hati gue settle, keuangan gue settle. Aamiin. Walau mesti mengubur keinginan jadi banker tapi ya... kalo justru kerja begini bikin gue settle, yo wis lah.<br />
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By the way, by the time I have this post typed, my dad is currently hospitalised for kidney issue. Semoga beliau cepet sembuh. Dan semoga pintu rejeki terbuka lebar buat orang tua gue. Aamiin :')<br />
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<span style="color: red; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i>I am trying my best to climb the ladder to settle down. Hope it's not slippery so I can reach the goal!</i></span><br />
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<i><span style="color: #660000;">"Get get get in line and settle down... Get in line and settle down..."</span></i><br />
<span style="color: #660000; font-size: x-small;">No Doubt - Settle Down</span>fanylihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12226759647470574552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3847269697540842635.post-34360768201277984752013-04-08T10:51:00.002+07:002013-04-17T21:11:46.219+07:00Salam RinduUntuk kamu, aku rindu.<br />
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Kerlingan manjamu, cara tawamu, pelukanmu, caramu membuat aku tenang saat merasa insecure tentang kamu, wajahmu, senyummu, cumbumu, ciummu, suaramu... aku bisa rindu semua tentang kamu.</div>
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Kepadamu, aku rindu.</div>
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Berhari-hari di kotamu, berangkat sengan segala harapan yang ku gantungkan pada Tuhan. Aku ini wanita pejuang, sayang. Dan kamulah yang aku perjuangkan. Semoga kamu sadar akan hal itu. Semoga terbuka selalu pintu hatimu.</div>
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Karena kamu, aku merindu.</div>
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Kutitipkan salam rinduku pada hujan. Semoga airnya melaju sampai Jogja. Anginnya berhembus dan membelai pipimu. Hingga kau tau dan mengerti aku yang merindu. Dan semoga, kaupun ikut sama merindunya kepadaku.</div>
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<i><span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: xx-small;">Surya,</span></i></div>
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<i><span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: xx-small;">Aku kangen...</span></i></div>
fanylihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12226759647470574552noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3847269697540842635.post-40625003590646264382013-03-20T19:58:00.001+07:002013-03-25T09:50:43.181+07:00Nyata II<div style="text-align: center;">
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<i>dalam eratnya dekapanmu, aku ini bahagia, dan ingin menangis. siapa aku ini buatmu? seakan tak peduli soal itu, kita terus mendekap satu sama lain. Aku sangat ingin menangis, saat kamu memelukku erat. merasakan kulitmu yang menyentuh kulitku. menghirup baumu, sesaat kau bangun dari tidur siangmu. lelahkah kau, sayang? istirahatlah, aku disini. disampingmu. nyata. aku bukan fantasimu. kali ini. hari ini. entah dimana aku esok hari, tapi aku disini hari ini. nyata. dan dalam dekapanmu, hatiku pecah sedikit. bagaimana nanti? bagaimana esok hari? bagaimana saat aku kembali ke kotaku, meninggalkanmu, kembali menggantungkan rinduku akan kamu, dan kembali memfantasikan kamu. saat pipi kita bersentuhan, saat janggutmu dapat jelas kurasa di pipi kananku. lalu kapan? kapan dapat kurasa sensasi itu lagi? kamu yang selama ini hanya ada dalam otakku, kali ini, hari ini, kamu nyata. nyata. ini kupegang pipimu. kubelai rambutmu. kuhirup wangimu. kudekap erat tubuhmu. sayangku, kenapa kita begini?</i></div>
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<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Jawaban dari segala doa: <a href="http://fanyhervilita.blogspot.com/2012/06/nyata.html" target="_blank">Nyata</a>.</span></div>
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fanylihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12226759647470574552noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3847269697540842635.post-10611036829889569302013-02-20T23:00:00.002+07:002013-02-20T23:00:15.066+07:00Satu, Dua, Tiga<span style="color: #666666;">Hatinya sakit.</span><div>
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<span style="color: #666666;">Malam itu kala hujan, ia menangis. Menangis. Meringkuk. Bersujud. Terlentang. Terlungkup. Menangis. Samar-samar suaranya. Dalam diam, ia pun berteriak.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;">Lalu dia tersenyum. Bicara rindu pada udara, menatap penuh langit-langit jingga di kamarnya. Berharap udara akan menghantarkan rindu bodohnya kepada orang itu. Disana. Jauh disana. Yang entah sedang apa. Atau merasakan apa untuknya. Ah, sudahlah.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;">Rindu yang kalap. Dia adalah pecandu rindu yang bodoh.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;"><br /></span></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="background-color: whitesmoke; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>Pelukmu, candu untukku. Tubuhmu, rindu terbesarku. Bersamamu, khayalan tertinggiku.</b> | </span></i></span><i style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 17.99715805053711px;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Bidadari Rejected (@adelladellaide)</span></i></span></blockquote>
<br />
<div>
<span style="color: #666666;">Dia itu bodoh.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #666666;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #666666;">Petir menjadi gelegaran tawa yang ia sangat rindu. Rintik hujan seperti suara nafas yang terhembus jelas di microphone ear-set, yang kala itu ia dengar hampir tiap malam. Udara dingin kala itu, bagai fantasi tatkala <i>pria</i> itu memeluknya. Mencium jauh pipinya, dari seberang sana. Dan hembusan lembut angin hujan, bagai suara manja yang sering ia dengar dari telepon. Bodoh, ia gadis bodoh.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #666666;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #666666;">Baginya, <i>dia</i> adalah jawaban segala doa.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #666666;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #666666;">Tersenyum, lalu air mata itu terjatuh. Satu, dua, tiga.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #666666;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #666666;">Kenapa harus dia?</span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #666666;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #666666;"><br /></span></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i><span style="color: #666666; font-size: x-small;"><span style="background-color: #ccccdd; font-family: Verdana, Arial; text-align: center;">Yeah for you I'll try, I'll try, I'll try, I'll try</span><span style="background-color: #ccccdd; font-family: Verdana, Arial; text-align: center;">I'll pick up these broken pieces 'til I'm bleeding</span><span style="background-color: #ccccdd; font-family: Verdana, Arial; text-align: center;">If that'll make you mine</span></span></i></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="color: #666666; font-size: x-small;">Bruno Mars - It Will Rain </span></blockquote>
<span style="color: #666666;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #666666;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #666666;">Tapi apa? <i>Dia</i> melangkah pergi, meninggalkan dia terlungkup, terjatuh, tersungkur... sendiri. </span><br />
fanylihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12226759647470574552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3847269697540842635.post-25883498662912890892013-02-04T14:15:00.000+07:002013-02-04T14:15:00.023+07:00Rindu tapi Ironi<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="color: #cc0000;">Aku ini merindu.</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="color: #cc0000;">Sama kamu. </span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="color: #cc0000;">Entah sudah berapa rindu. </span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="color: #cc0000;">Pokoknya aku rindu. </span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="color: #cc0000;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="color: #cc0000;">Dan pada jarak yang memisahkan, aku makin rindu. </span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="color: #cc0000;">Pada kesibukan yang meniadakan waktu, aku pasti rindu. </span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="color: #cc0000;">Terhadap waktu yang saru, oh aku rindu.</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="color: #cc0000;">Diantara kotamu dan kotaku, dimana harus kuletakkan rinduku padamu?</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="color: #cc0000;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="color: #cc0000;">Adakah rindu yang kau rasakan untukku, sayang?</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="color: #cc0000;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="color: #cc0000;">Ketika memelukmu hanya dalam fantasi.</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="color: #cc0000;">Menciummu juga hanya fantasi.</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="color: #cc0000;">Walau hanya berada di sampingmu, itu fantasi.</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="color: #cc0000;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="color: #cc0000;">Rinduku hanyalah sepiring penuh ironi.</span></i></div>
<br />
<br />fanylihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12226759647470574552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3847269697540842635.post-63184009121761922862012-12-31T00:15:00.001+07:002012-12-31T00:44:28.331+07:00Boy adalah Kucing yang Punya Banyak KesibukanBoy. Seekor kucing pejantan tampan ras anggora berwarna hitam-putih, berumur 3 tahun (dan akan segera berumur 4 tahun pada 2013), adalah kucing yang punya banyak kesibukan.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJHROr86kh8mkSbDQjpRumzbC06eM7HW_crw9gmQsRBWNTbjNS0JDP_FzapzNiA1NM_qboeTmk7Guu0bGa-UHbHvJNnunOaXhv7uw7775ksqdj56KUIPAAr0GIfWsA9dDpwDQVA5mC-ZY/s1600/galau.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJHROr86kh8mkSbDQjpRumzbC06eM7HW_crw9gmQsRBWNTbjNS0JDP_FzapzNiA1NM_qboeTmk7Guu0bGa-UHbHvJNnunOaXhv7uw7775ksqdj56KUIPAAr0GIfWsA9dDpwDQVA5mC-ZY/s320/galau.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Tampang si Boy, kecapean karena terlalu sibuk.</span></div>
<br />
<br />
Di pagi hari, jam 6 pagi, dia bertugas membangunkan majikannya, lalu minta makan.<br />
<br />
Jam 7 pagi, saatnya dia minum susu.<br />
<br />
Jam 8 pagi, setelah dia melahap kudapannya, dia harus menjaga teritorial kekuasaanya dengan berjaga-jaga di depan pagar rumah.<br />
<br />
Selain berjaga-jaga, dia juga harus pipisin beberapa tembok, pagar, dan ban mobil untuk memperluas wilayahnya.<br />
<br />
Apabila ada pejantan lewat, diharuskan melapor padanya.<br />
<br />
Apabila ada anak kucing lewat, maka harus bermain dengannya.<br />
<br />
Apabila ada betina lewat, maka........................ :3<br />
<br />
Jam 10 pagi Boy pulang dari kegiatannya menjadi satpam bagi areanya sendiri. Lalu melahap kudapan, minum susu, dan minum air putih se-gayung. Maksudnya, air yang disediain pake gayung. Boy gamau minum air putih yang disiapin di mangkoknya. Boy harus minum air dari gayung. Setelah minum, lalu ia bersantai-santai di halaman belakang.<br />
<br />
Kemudian, pada jam 11, Boy akan tidur siang.<br />
<br />
Pada jam 12 atau jam 1, ia akan pindah ke kamar mama, atau ke kamar kak Aldi, atau ke kamar kak Rama untuk melanjutkan tidur siangnya di kasur.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3t8EmD6jyp1CldcSPT7uVGqDrFskOHxIdgVKGMsZqumnawi8F5IJZ2VXmxJGkzeE8GLII8OGN10LzuAp0KeuLjhItc7bIAr2Y90oegOy9QWZ3MlcBUgAqeIJItNj7H0Zm4kj-iHHhtvo/s1600/IMG-20111031-00350.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3t8EmD6jyp1CldcSPT7uVGqDrFskOHxIdgVKGMsZqumnawi8F5IJZ2VXmxJGkzeE8GLII8OGN10LzuAp0KeuLjhItc7bIAr2Y90oegOy9QWZ3MlcBUgAqeIJItNj7H0Zm4kj-iHHhtvo/s320/IMG-20111031-00350.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Bobo di kamar mama.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9kb7bjQs_m_3sZaiQK2TPL-oAUbZE88-GgB41wxbpz_froX6_cvQ9oyz84FZqY2z6-9g2DVF2oc00HTTme3MdYh0emGYN8Os4-PcbLZUtgARMOfy9oVEJAlQW5257D1_UvWU0-utc3rk/s1600/IMG-20120123-00913.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9kb7bjQs_m_3sZaiQK2TPL-oAUbZE88-GgB41wxbpz_froX6_cvQ9oyz84FZqY2z6-9g2DVF2oc00HTTme3MdYh0emGYN8Os4-PcbLZUtgARMOfy9oVEJAlQW5257D1_UvWU0-utc3rk/s320/IMG-20120123-00913.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Bobo di kamar kakak.</span></div>
<br />
<br />
Jam 3 ia bangun, lalu makan siang dan minum susu. Lalu tidur lagi.<br />
<br />
Sejam kemudian ia akan bangun, lalu bersantai-santai di teras depan atau di halaman belakang. Apabila cuaca panas, ia akan tidur lagi. Bila mendung, ia bermain sebentar.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEianUo0p5g2-1IDbVOo-_UG9upY3IemPDXf1phH4eAGVA3A4ONtnjH9vHp55wn0XdLRKS4bvuVe6rpP-zAa8Znf7HvJG9sBM7C2gd1vU4IvZDR_646bew-vR10dbfJW4pZupGlYGmzhC1A/s1600/IMG-20111030-00346.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEianUo0p5g2-1IDbVOo-_UG9upY3IemPDXf1phH4eAGVA3A4ONtnjH9vHp55wn0XdLRKS4bvuVe6rpP-zAa8Znf7HvJG9sBM7C2gd1vU4IvZDR_646bew-vR10dbfJW4pZupGlYGmzhC1A/s320/IMG-20111030-00346.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Si Boy, bersantai-santai di teras depan sambil tetap memantau.</span></div>
<br />
<br />
Jam 5 ia keluar lagi. Eek, pipis, main, jaga wilayah, pipisin tembok atau pagar, dan berjaga jaga lagi sampai jam 6.<br />
<br />
Kadang Boy harus ke genteng, memastikan tidak ada pembelot yang merusak area kekuasaannya.<br />
<br />
Jam 7 waktunya kudapan dan berkumpul dengan majikannya. Jika ada cicak, Boy akan mengejar dan memakannya. Bila majikannya membeli martabak keju ia pasti minta dan melahap satu potong martabak yang kejunya paling banyak. Boy suka keju. Apalagi martabak keju.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik0sf4mlktZ7xAO9aZXvdZi0eVEtZA88mQIaL9cCahvVUthafMELP9HqgYhxJvmLW-j1Wt6aafltAPQDqHRjaOmU0Mw2eHoRhSt-VFJ7-JJbTLtmS4mKok9hO66FTluag5JtX-PCcoUc4/s1600/IMG-20111021-00317.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik0sf4mlktZ7xAO9aZXvdZi0eVEtZA88mQIaL9cCahvVUthafMELP9HqgYhxJvmLW-j1Wt6aafltAPQDqHRjaOmU0Mw2eHoRhSt-VFJ7-JJbTLtmS4mKok9hO66FTluag5JtX-PCcoUc4/s320/IMG-20111021-00317.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Boy, manja, makannya minta disuapin.</span></div>
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<br />
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Jam 10 ia siap-siap tidur dan minta dikelonin sama majikannya lagi. </div>
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<br /></div>
Begitulah keseharian Boy si kucing. Sangat sibuk.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_Stud59v1G0sUTEPyEieDztCU4BRtMvj1wUpcGLoo1YugfgTxntDC4gFKiOGx7ZnRDkdGNygducFf3SUt0wkOYsuEyc8QpoY4HFIltKpdtg3vQcfuHYFmDc5d_mLs0PjValS8RgLKpjk/s1600/Photo1318.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_Stud59v1G0sUTEPyEieDztCU4BRtMvj1wUpcGLoo1YugfgTxntDC4gFKiOGx7ZnRDkdGNygducFf3SUt0wkOYsuEyc8QpoY4HFIltKpdtg3vQcfuHYFmDc5d_mLs0PjValS8RgLKpjk/s320/Photo1318.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Boy si kucing tampan :3</span></div>
fanylihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12226759647470574552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3847269697540842635.post-812607921710765932012-12-19T21:44:00.001+07:002012-12-19T21:44:05.602+07:00Damn You<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #666666; font-size: x-small;"><i><b>again,</b></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #666666; font-size: x-small;"><i><b>to afraid to start.</b></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #666666; font-size: x-small;"><i><b>to scared to fall. </b></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #666666; font-size: x-small;"><i><b>to hurt to be broken.</b></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #666666; font-size: x-small;"><i><b>that's how I do. </b></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #666666; font-size: x-small;"><i><b>that's about you.</b></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #666666; font-size: x-small;"><i><b>I could lose you, </b></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #666666; font-size: x-small;"><i><b>though I don't want to.</b></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #666666; font-size: x-small;"><i><b>but that's how I do, </b></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #666666; font-size: x-small;"><i><b>though I could lose you.</b></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #666666; font-size: x-small;"><i><b>and if I already am,</b></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #666666; font-size: x-small;"><i><b>if I already lose you,</b></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #666666; font-size: x-small;"><i><b>please tell me,</b></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #666666; font-size: x-small;"><i><b>tell me,</b></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #666666; font-size: x-small;"><i><b>tell me what this feeling is about.</b></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #666666; font-size: x-small;"><i><b>cos I miss you.</b></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #666666; font-size: x-small;"><i><b>through the night I think of you.</b></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #666666; font-size: x-small;"><i><b>and the day I wish I had chats with you.</b></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #666666; font-size: x-small;"><i><b>all the moments with you.</b></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #666666; font-size: x-small;"><i><b>and the virtual insanity.</b></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #666666; font-size: x-small;"><i><b>and the songs.</b></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #666666; font-size: x-small;"><i><b>and your singing.</b></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #666666; font-size: x-small;"><i><b>and your morning calls.</b></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #666666; font-size: x-small;"><i><b>and the spirit.</b></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #666666; font-size: x-small;"><i><b><br /></b></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #666666; font-size: x-small;"><i><b>damn you.</b></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #666666; font-size: x-small;"><i><b>I miss you.</b></i></span></div>
fanylihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12226759647470574552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3847269697540842635.post-921299128603611242012-12-13T21:35:00.000+07:002013-02-16T21:19:05.260+07:00Carry OnSelamat malam.<br />
<br />
Apa kabar kamu hari ini? Lelah dengan kesibukanmu? Santai sajalah dulu. Tak usah kamu pikirkan segala yang membuat kepalamu sakit malam ini. Santailah santai, karena aku sudah lelah merindu, aku ingin bercerita denganmu.<br />
<br />
Karena aku sedang rindu. Ada yang merongrong dari dalam kepalaku untuk memikirkan kamu. Saat dimana satu lagu membawa aku kembali ke masa itu. Saat satu objek melayangkan aku pada sesuatu tentang kamu. Saat suatu tindakan membuat laci memoriku terbuka, jatuh, dan itu semua tentang kamu. Ah... kenangan itu...<br />
<br />
Dia bilang, "<i>seperti isyarat yang tak sempat dikirimkan awan kepada hujan, yang menjadikannya tiada</i>". Seperti aku, mungkin, yang tak sempat mengirimkanmu semangat, yang menjadikan aku hilang dari kamu. Seperti aku, yang bingung bagaimana caranya membalas segala kebaikanmu, hingga akhirnya aku gagal membalas secuilpun. Seperti aku, yang inginnya menyampaikan polesan benda cantik, namun berantakan sesampainya padamu. Lalu siapa yang salah, bila semuanya tak tersampaikan? Mungkin itu aku.<br />
<br />
Hey, bagaimana dengan hobi kamu? Aku yakin kamu masih menggeluti itu semua. Ya, aku tau--atau aku sok tau?--betapa asyiknya kamu menggeluti hobimu. Kelak kamu akan meraih itu, kamu tau itu.<br />
<br />
Kamu tau, pekerjaanku ini menyenangkan, sekaligus melelahkan; memakan banyak dari waktuku. Aku berangkat di pagi hari, pulang di malam hari. Bukan seperti jam kerja yang kamu kira, ini berbeda. Dan aku pun batal menjadi pekerja yang kamu tau, aku telah mengimpi-impikannya dari dulu.<br />
<br />
Tapi aku tau, pun bila aku senggang, kita tak kan lagi seperti dulu. Ya, aku mengerti. Aku mengerti. Tapi malam ini, hanya malam ini, izinkan aku mendongeng padamu. Aku rindu bercerita denganmu.<br />
<br />
Tetaplah menjadi kamu yang aku kenal. Walaupun situasi berotasi, aku masih aku yang kamu kenal. Aku masih di kota ini, siap kalau-kalau kamu berkunjung kemari.<br />
<br />
Pergilah kamu, dengan siapapun yang kamu mau. Asal kamu bahagia, melangkahlah, dengan siapapun yang kamu sertai. Segala memori yang terkumpul bersamamu--terimakasih.<br />
<br />
<i>Carry On.</i><br />
:)<br />
<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i>The days were long and the nights so cold<br />The pages turn and the tale unfolds</i><br />Paloma Faith - New York</span></blockquote>
<br />fanylihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12226759647470574552noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3847269697540842635.post-17353754085357385792012-11-27T22:34:00.003+07:002012-11-28T10:53:10.343+07:00Letter to Mum and Dad<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>Dear lovable Mum and Dad,</i></span><br />
<br />
Your first and only daughter has now no longer your little daughter.<br />
<br />
Now she knows how to earn money. She's still in her learning process, but trust her, she will be able to live herself to the fullest in another year. And it all thanks a lot to you, Mum and Dad, you made her through phases of her life.<br />
<br />
Mum, Dad,<br />
<br />
Even though she lives far from you now, deep in heart there's always a picture of you both. Deep in her thoughts she keeps on thinking how to make your life happy. Especially you, Mum. She always wants her mum to be happier than she has ever been.<br />
<br />
Mum,<br />
<br />
Your daughter often think that she would be<i> independently</i> independent. But you already knew, right? You already knew whom she will call if she gets into a situation. Your prayer will always be with your independent daughter. Mum, she knows it, she won't be ever independent. Cos she always depends on your prayer. Mum, she knows it. You will always pray for her.<br />
<br />
Dad,<br />
<br />
This little daughter of yours, who used to always rub your rough elbow (this is the weird thing you love about her, isn't it? That she loves rubbing elbow, especially yours, just like a child who can't sleep without her favourite doll), well... no, she's not rubbing other man's elbow yet, no. But you know what, she's been trying to find a man who would like to give his rough elbow for her to rub. Just like what you did when she was a child, Dad.<br />
<br />
Mum and Dad,<br />
<br />
She realizes that you would do anything to help her with anything. You would help her to reach her dream job being a banker, though she turns up being a tutor. She also knows about how you don't really like her being a tutor. Well don't worry. She won't be a tutor for that long. She'll be a banker later on.<br />
<br />
Mum,<br />
<br />
Your daughter has made you as her favourite woman ever in the world.<br />
<br />
Mum, Dad,<br />
<br />
Your daughter loves you.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>Your Daughter,</i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i>fanyhervilita</i></span></div>
fanylihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12226759647470574552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3847269697540842635.post-36620568839328816522012-11-11T20:12:00.005+07:002012-11-11T21:47:25.002+07:00I wasn't Cinderella and He wasn't the Prince Either.Actually, I have this situation that I really wanted to <strike>write</strike> post here. Somehow it was always hard to find the match between my mood and the right moment that I'll be sitting in front of PC or laptop and let these thoughts translated into paragraphs. So now's the right time, here we go then!<br />
<br />
Have you ever imagined--or maybe experienced--a movie scene that would happen to you in reality? A movie scene that takes place in a party or a gala dinner, for example. There, the main actress meets the main actor, they say hi eventually, chat a little bit of cheesy chit chat, then look at each other from a distance even in the same place. When the party is over, they figure out that they don't know each other's names yet, so they will eventually introduce themselves in a unique way. Have you? Cause I have.<br />
<br />
I met this man one day in an international event held in Jakarta couple months ago. He lived in Jakarta but he studied somewhere out Jakarta. He was the guest committee of the event. The first place we met actually was in an outdoor occasion from the same event. He wasn't a cute guy or something. But he was funny; he made lots of jokes. We didn't introduce ourselves pretty well that day. He perhaps would forgotten my name since he met lots of new people--especially girls that are way cuter than me--so it was really okay for me if he might forget or something.<br />
<br />
After the outdoor occasion, we had this gala dinner at a restaurant. There, we met again. I was there with two of my guy friends too as I saw him on the escalator, went down, while I and my friends were about to go upstairs. I didn't know for sure but I think he was stunned seeing me. LOL. Yea, sure we said hi. He was a friendly guy, you gotta know that.<br />
<br />
During the Gala Dinner, we weren't actually talking to each other that much. We sure smiled but it was just a simple small which was hard to notice. At some awkward moments I found myself looking for his presence, and would look away whenever I found him glancing at me. I would be embarrassed, and perhaps would strengthen the pink sheer colour on my cheek, as I did the stuff. The stuff of looking for his presence and the look-away-quickly as he glanced at me.<br />
<br />
After two hours, the Gala Dinner finally wrapped up. I was thinking that I could be the Cinderella and leaving my heel shoe away and he might be the Prince Charming realising my shoe was left and he eventually would bring that to me again some days later. But I wasn't Cinderella and he wasn't the Prince either. And if I did leave my shoe away, what would I wear, then? Moreover, people would look at me as if I was a clown or something weird and pathetic. And he wouldn't take my shoe and find the girl who fit in it. AND if he did, though, mine was 39 and many girls would fit 39. Logically, leaving my shoe, like Cinderella did, <i>is not an intellectual act.</i><br />
<br />
But I did leave something. And it was my name.<br />
<br />
<span style="color: #0b5394;">"Going home now?"</span> He said as I walked to the front door.<br />
<span style="color: #741b47;">"Yea, the show's over and it's already night. Everybody needs a rest,"</span> I said, and smiled.<br />
<span style="color: #0b5394;">"You don't want a picture with me?"</span><br />
<span style="color: #741b47;">"Hahaha, what for? It wouldn't favoured me that much. Perhaps it's YOU want a picture with me?"</span><br />
<span style="color: #0b5394;">"Hahaha naah, it's YOU."</span> He said.<br />
<br />
We had a little bit of awkward seconds until somebody I knew was walking to me and I said hi to him, and had a small talks with him. He, this funny and friendly man (let's name him with the letter P), still beside me waiting for me and my acquaintance finished talking.<br />
<br />
<span style="color: #0b5394;">"Hey umm... are you on Facebook?" </span>P asked.<br />
<span style="color: #741b47;">"Everybody's on Facebook, I suppose." </span>and giggled.<br />
<span style="color: #0b5394;">"So umm... please? Your name?"</span><br />
<span style="color: #741b47;">"You forgot???"</span> I asked, falsely. I mean, I already knew he'd forget.<br />
<span style="color: #0b5394;">"No, no, no I don't. I just need your full name so I can find you on Facebook, hehe."</span><span style="color: #20124d;"> </span>I have no idea if this was true but, I didn't care. I can already guessed.<br />
<span style="color: #741b47;">"So what's my name?"</span> I kinda forced him.<br />
<br />
And a friend came to me again. Oh man, THAT was obviously a situation I wish nobody would be an intruder or something! Can't they see the privacy atmosphere there?! Geez. Anyway. While I talked to my friend, P took my Certificate of Participation that was held on my hand. He grab his phone (unfortunately it wasn't a blackberry. If it had been a BB, he'd have asked me my pin, not my Facebook name. Mehehe) and typed my full name as printed on the certificate.<br />
<br />
<span style="color: #741b47;">"What are you doing?"</span> I asked him as I finished talking to my intruder-friend.<br />
<span style="color: #0b5394;">"Typing down your name so I can find you on Facebook and add you,"</span> he said, handed me my certificate back, and smiled happily, <span style="color: #0b5394;">"as a friend."</span><br />
I smiled back.<br />
<span style="color: #0b5394;">"Diofany Hervilita,"</span> he mentioned my name. <span style="color: #0b5394;">"nice name."</span><br />
I giggled. <span style="color: #741b47;">"Thank you. Add me on Facebook."</span><br />
<span style="color: #0b5394;">"Oh sure. Yea, of course."</span><br />
<span style="color: #741b47;">"So umm... I'm going home now. My friends there waiting for me," </span>I was intended to point at my two guys but it was only one who could be seen from our standing angle.<br />
<span style="color: #0b5394;">"You're with <i>him</i>?"</span><br />
<span style="color: #741b47;">"<i>Them</i>, actually. They're my junior at campus. They're participating too, with me."</span><br />
<span style="color: #0b5394;">"Oh. OK."</span> he smiled. <span style="color: #0b5394;">"Take care, then!"</span><br />
I nodded.<span style="color: #741b47;"> "Bye."</span><br />
He rose his hand and gave me an air high-five plus a big smile.<br />
<br />
On the way home I kept on reminiscing what was just happened in that recent hours. Now it's months away and I haven't had any hearing from him. But that remarkable situation, well, it finally has its point: a story. A memory. A blog post (yea, of course, come up last eventually).<br />
<br />
Don't hide it. We live in God's scenario and we live it in dramatical way. There are dramas that we made, conciously or unconciously. Those who said hate the living drama, really got to live.<br />
<br />
I love this little drama we had :)<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;"><i><span style="font-family: inherit;">hey I just met you</span></i></span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;"><i><span style="font-family: inherit;">and this is crazy</span></i></span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;"><i><span style="font-family: inherit;">b</span></i><i><span style="font-family: inherit;">ut here's my full name</span></i></span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;"><i><span style="font-family: inherit;">so add me maybe</span></i></span></blockquote>
fanylihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12226759647470574552noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3847269697540842635.post-2848868565043448952012-11-02T21:46:00.000+07:002012-11-09T09:31:43.384+07:00Fascinating is Talking About...TRAUMA.<br />
<br />
I'll tell you more about it.<br />
<br />
According to the Oxford Pocket Dictionary, I found out that trauma (n) is an emotional shock producing a lasting harmful effect. A small example of trauma, say... umm... suppose you went to a place by plane and you got some air crash and therefore had made you afraid of taking another air transprotation since then. You kinda have that feeling of scared that the same tragedy will eventually happened to you again. In order to avoid that, you would reject anything--ANYTHING--related to a plane trip.<br />
<br />
It will probably the same, I think, if... you know... if I happen to have this tragedy some times ago, and that I will be scared of having the same elements on me again in some times later. Okay, enough with this merry-go-round talks. I'll just get to the point.<br />
<br />
I had this bitter mishap a year earlier, actually. There was when I got dumped (yup, you read that correctly. Me, got dumped) by a... umm how should I say this guy... well I'll just say that I got dumped by this guy I had already known like couple months. We weren't actually dating but, I could say that we were so close to each other and we shared something. I even trust my very sad secret to him.<br />
<br />
We got along very well. There wasn't a day we didn't spend talking, even if we barely even met. He helped me a lot. Helped me on things I need. Helped me on my big project, even he could help me on small things by simply listening to every guts I had. And calmed me down. He flew me to the top with every little emotional words, surprises, acts...<br />
<br />
See who's reminiscing about the past now *pointing at myself*<br />
<br />
And then there was this shock that I found out something unbearable about him. It's him and her. Yeaaaahhhh. You got what I mean. Days before I figured out this trouble, I came through a phase where all those normal turned to be something awkward. Thank God for this premonition gifted to me and some clues, I figured it out. Hahaha, yea, tell me nothing about how I felt miserable that time.<br />
<br />
So this is it. This is what I called as trauma. I never had any trauma on anything but this. I know the pain, I feel the ache, I taste the sour. I just can't go through it anymore no matter what. I can't deal with it.<br />
<br />
That is why when I had this bad premonition about you, Sir, and that God gave me clues on you, and I found this new-girl stuff... her name, her face, her study major... I knew. I just knew and I can't deal with it. I know, I am sure I know, about how I've been acting stink <i><span style="font-size: x-small;">(like sour milk all on the floor, it's your fault you didn't shut the refrigerator, maybe that's the reason I've been acting so cold~*)</span></i> to you and that you think that I misunderstand about all of these but I am sure I'm not. I didn't mean to scare you with my 'roars' but... sigh... I couldn't help myself on this, dude.<br />
<br />
You had been acting awkward and weird days before I really realised this. And still, without any talks from you, I already knew. I got dumped again.<br />
<br />
I cannot be hurt by the old school tragedy like this. I'd rather quit and let you think about anything you wanna think about my behaviour that crosses your mind. I don't wanna be hurt anymore, okay. I cannot be hurt again. And since we haven't met yet, I just don't want you to be the one breaks my heart even more than this. I mean, you broke it. I just... can't get it even worse.<br />
<br />
I know I'm escaping things I should face. But I'm doing this to rescue myself. Probably to rescue your new sparkling relationship with her. Don't worry dude, I'll get used to it. :)<br />
<br />
And if I ever be mistaken on this prejudice, please don't be scared telling me the truth. I won't bite you. And I'm not angry. I'm just disappointed. Again.<br />
<br />
Cos I ain't that bubble gum.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">James Morrison featuring Nelly Furtado - Broken Strings</span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666; font-size: x-small;"><i>*Lyrics taken by Gwen Stefani's Sweet Escape</i></span>fanylihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12226759647470574552noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3847269697540842635.post-75336720034695027992012-10-22T21:25:00.000+07:002012-10-22T21:25:01.839+07:00itu saja dan cukupsuatu kisah yang sudah terlupakan bagaimana mulanya, dan tidak tahu bagaimana akhirnya. mengambang, terbang terbawa angin, terjun bersama air. ah entahlah.<br />
<br />
entahlah. yang aku tau... ah, aku bahkan tidak tahu menahu tentang sekarang. perasaan itu lari beriringan dengan waktu. dekat, dekat, dan dekat walau sadar betapa jauhnya jarak saat itu. terus bicara. membicarakan tentang apa saja.<br />
<br />
lalu sudah. kedekatan kita menua. kita bahkan belum pernah bertemu sapa. bosankah? tentu saja. aku mengerti, sayang, aku mengerti. tidak apa. aku ikhlas. apapun asal kau senang. asal kau bahagia.<br />
<br />
mungkin hati sudah terbiasa. ini adalah kisah yang berulang, sudah dapat ditebak. dan saat seperti sekarang ini... sudah terasa bagaimana suasananya. semacam deja vu. aku sudah pernah di posisi ini. terulang lagi. dengan perasaan yang sama.<br />
<br />
<i><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">aku ingin sekali menyayangimu, tanpa jarak dan waktu, tanpa ragu, tanpa masa lalu. itu saja. dan cukup.</span></i>fanylihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12226759647470574552noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3847269697540842635.post-64171293824938108342012-09-24T20:51:00.001+07:002012-09-24T20:51:25.335+07:00Pulang<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Aku ingin pulang ke kamu.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Aku ingin kamu yang menjadi tempatku.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Aku ingin saat pulang nanti, aku bertemu kamu.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Aku ingin mempunyai rumah denganmu.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Lalu pulang ke rumah itu bersama kamu.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Aku ingin menjadi bagian kamu.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Dan bagian rumahmu.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Aku ingin hidup dalam perjuanganmu.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Aku ingin menghidupi perjuangan kamu.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Aku ingin mendekapmu saat aku pulang.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Aku ingin menjadi yang kamu cium saat kamu pulang.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Aku ingin pulang ke rumah kita.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Aku ingin pulang bersama kamu.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Aku ingin pulang ke hatimu.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Sayang, jadilah rumahku...</span></div>
fanylihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12226759647470574552noreply@blogger.com0