I belong to the pure sky and the line of stars on the faraway milky way
Of all my family and relative's houses, I love my grandparents' one the most. It is a 2 stories house in a village in Ambon with spacious garden, which my grandma filled with beautiful flowers and her collection of ferns. As far as I can remember, the garden was always colorful, smelled great and there were no mosquitos around because gran planted some plants that she said was the natural repellent of mosquitos. There's a big tree by the left corner of the garden and when I was a child, there was a tire swing hanging on that tree. I spent a lot of time there, by that tire swing.
My grandfather said that my middle name was given to me because for some months the flowers around their garden weren't blooming as usual, and no one knows why. But then on the day I was born, all of the flowers suddenly bloomed in the same time. Grandpa said that he remembered the day as the day when the garden smelled the best. I still can't figure out whether my grandfather was telling the truth, or if he was just being a very convincing storyteller.
Last Christmas was a full house in my grandparents' place in Ambon. My aunties, uncles, cousins from all places were there. We laughed, danced, teased each other, chat, and had fun together and it was amazing. Everyone arrived at different times so after three days, we realized we had a problem. There wasn't enough room and bed for everyone to sleep.. my cousins and I find it pretty funny because since that everyone started to mark their place to sleep. On the couch, on the floor using mattresses, sneaking to my grandparents' room at night and sleep between them etc. Me, being a nomad, I slept at different spots every night muahahaha. I wasn't being a nomad alone. One of my cousin, 5 years younger than me turns out to be a nomad himself and we explored all the creative alternative for a sleeping spot every night. Then one day he came with this brilliant idea. On the second floor there's an open air space looked like a balcony where my grandparents always sit together for afternoon tea. He suggested we slept on that balcony and pretend we were out camping and sleep under the stars.
It was amazing.
I don't have many starry nights in Jakarta, and when I did, the stars don't really fill the whole sky, everyone kept saying that it was because of the pollution, the dirty air.
But that night in Ambon, I really slept under the stars. I lay down with my blankets and pillows and looked up and the line of stars... it was a magical view. I think the stars lulled me to sleep that night. Another nice part was waking up. I woke up to the sun rays on my face and the sky got brighter and brighter until it was pure blue and I really enjoyed the view.
I really love that house.
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I often think that we do have to travel a lot, revisiting old places and trying to go somewhere new too, just to see where you really belong. We could not choose the place where we were born but certainly we can choose to see other places too if we want it.
I still have some posts left about trip to Ambon. But... I will probably have to put in on hold since next week will be the big day of the last exam ever in the university before graduation yaaay. So this week I'll be concentrating on that and hope to be back with good news. Anyway Jude is starting a new project combining Instagram and music here. It's called Anthropoplogy: Music on your feed, I've seen her selection and most are new to me and I'm happy about it because she's broadening my range of knowledge of music. Hahaha.. I'm particularly attached to Zedd and his song "Find You" which is also will be one of the soundtrack for Divergent movie. Give it a try probably you'll be surprised.
Wish you a happy weekend!
I'm going to lost myself now reading Freud, Adler, Jung, Kelly and everyone else in between :3
the times we had
It was written on a wall in Tallinn, Estonia. I found myself stumbled across the very picture of that wall time and time again through a very dear friend's social media account.
Tonight, I stared so long at that picture. My mind was full, but the funny thing is I don't really know why it feels so full in there, in my mind. I guess it's been quite a while it's been that way, but recently my mind feels more like a chaotic battlefield than a simply full and packed warehouse.
I think I can almost hear Cindy yell at me, "your mind is the source of everything that is a mess in your life. And most of them aren't even real."
"The Times we had."
Why do they have to capitalize the "t" on Times?
I'm not sure I understand the meaning of that phrase. the times we had.
There were times, when my closest friends are within my reach. There were times when everyone tells everyone what they were facing, how they felt, their fears, hopes and dreams.
There were times when it was easy to cry in front of each other, like it was not a sign of weakness and nobody needed to know if it was a right time to cry or not. We just cry when we need to.
There were times when everyone has time for everyone.
There were times when everyone was as close as skin, and nobody get hurt alone without someone else noticing it.
There were times when the night feels so rough but everyone stand up together and become each other's strength.
were those the times we had?
Often now I find that those I loved the most are facing things that are either really really good and exciting or really hard and frustrating. Either way, those things drain too much energy out of them. Naturally, my reaction is to holdback. Because, how can I ask them to share my burden when I saw them struggling to carry theirs. When I try to tell Cindy about this, she looked amazed on what she called my mind playing tricks on me. And she was even more amazed because I actually do believe in the chaos my mind created. She said that, I am too stubborn to see that even though everything changes in our friends' lives, they are never too worn out to lend me a hand. That my big theory of "your-own-problems-have-drained-too-much-energy-i-can't-add-my-problems-to-your-life-too" is one big joke. It seems like as saintly as I think I am, what I'm doing is actually hurting me and possibly hurting other people too.
now wait a minute.
Suddenly I'm the bad
I'm not being fair either, I get that. I didn't at least try to talk. I'm the one who changed, I'm the one who thinks that I need to find a right time to let things out of my heart. Fine, I get that.
I just don't know how to tell people about what I'm dealing with when I know that out there, others are struggling with so much heavier problems than mine. Won't that make you feel selfish?
So,
How am I supposed to tell everyone that I am in fact, anxious about my theses defense thing and quite don't know what to prepare.... when I know that other people are fighting for their daughter's life that has been diagnosed with bone cancer? I can't be bugging them everyday just to let them know how nervous I am. Unlike me, everyone actually have a real life. like an everyday routine and they can become too busy and I am to sensitive right now to take even the slightest sign of "rejection" so I just chose to shut up.
How am I supposed to tell everyone that I don't know what to feel towards the... geez I can't even write that. Right, next week will be the third anniversary, if one can ever call it an "anniversary" of my father's death. How am I supposed to tell everyone that I am pretty much afraid, anxious, agitated.. when I know that out there other people are struggling to fit in and find their places as a work force? In the crazy world of adapting, where everyone either enjoying working extra hours or actually getting sick being too tired... do I have to really be the crybaby one clinging to them every so often about my grief that has been going on for years. Really. I am such a selfish human being if I do that. And what about the Japanese that lost their kin on the 3/11 Tsunami? Their "anniversary" is like tomorrow. See? I'm not the only one grieving. I can't be too selfish. And I can't discuss this with my mom either. She would burst in tears, and that is the last thing I can handle right now.
How am I supposed to tell.... other gazillion things that is running on my mind? I can't.
But there were really times back then, when it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter how hard your own life is, it doesn't matter how busy you are, it doesn't matter how frustrating everything is, there were times when we can always... tell each other anything. always. and those were the times we had.
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