And there's nowhere else I'd rather be.
To be hypnotized by its beauty.
Unless it is your eyes.
Or the shadow of your walk.

Carpenter Addict

Long ago, and, oh so far away
I fell in love with you
Before the second show

Your guitar, it sounds so sweet and clear
But you're not really here
It's just the radio

Don't you remember you told me
You loved me baby?
You said you'd be coming back
This way again baby
Baby, baby, baby, baby, oh, baby
I love you, I really do

Loneliness is such a sad affair
And I can hardly wait
To be with you again
What to say, to make you come again?
Come back to me again
And play your sad guitar

Superstar – Sonic Youth OST Juno (cover version of Carpenter)

I’ve been madly in love with the Carpenters. Maybe simply because the melody and the spontaneous lyrics. Or maybe because the hairstyles. Will stuff the songs into my MP3 player, so I can listen to them over and over. Whenever I intend to or feel like echoing the rhythm in my brain. Anywhere is.
By the sea will be perfect. By your side, wouldn’t it be overrated?

*menghitung jam menuju garis pantai berikutnya

Anyone Else But You

You're a part time lover and a full time friend
The monkey on you're back is the latest trend
I don't see what anyone can see, in anyone else
But you

I kiss you on the brain in the shadow of a train
I kiss you all starry eyed, my body's swinging from side to side
I don't see what anyone can see, in anyone else
But you

You know I amazed by the scene when the girl grabbed her guitar and rode her bicycle along the road. The boy is ready with his guitar on his lap then they were playing the guitar while singing the song. Not perfectly, but beautifully still. You know I like the way they met at the porch and the sun is shining on the girl’s face. And you know I instantly smitten by the song. I know by the way you smiled, that you know her bicycle is the next thing on my wish list.

What you don’t know is, having my belly bloated up like the girl, is also in my wish list.
And another thing, there was another scene that amazed me.

The girl: “I think I’m in love with you. You're like... the coolest person I've ever met and you don't even have to try.
The boy: “I try really hard actually.”

Yup, I wish I had this kind of courage to come up to you and said it aimlessly like the girl did.
Instead of writing the words down on blog like this.

You are always trying to keep it real
I'm in love with how you feel
I don't see what anyone can see, in anyone else
But you

Anyone Else But You – Moldy Peaches
OST Juno

Pen Pal

Pen pals. Yup, I know nowadays people use email, facsimile and they even use their cell phones as their life partner for communicating. Not only short messages, but also love letters. Recently, I haven’t been doing any post mail activities except for work related, but I was a teenager on early nineties, so this post mail activities were part of my world back then. A big part. It was an on and off hobbies. Sometimes I have 10 pen pals at the same times, sometimes it was one or two pen pals that actively sending mails back and forth.

One of the most memorable one was Wawan. He was a guy from East Nusa Tenggara who did fencing, he was an athlete and worship rock music at the same time. That was our something in common. The music part, of course, back then I even could not run properly. We shared stories about music a whole lot. He liked Dream Theatre, while I craved for Bon Jovi. We both liked Nirvana. And we both hated Tommy J Pisa. And the list went countless.
It was really exciting, the way we shared stories. I didn’t have many male pen pals, and girls rarely understood Yngwie Malmsteen. So, I always waited for a letter from him. I waited for our next discussion about the happening rock band, as well as his juicy love stories. He had a girlfriend who lived in
Jakarta, while I was hopelessly in love with my junior high school crush.

I remember, I always had this fantasy about visiting his town, meet him eye to eye and then we would go on and on talking about music industry or the next rock gigs we were craving to mosh in. Probably he would tell me that he had broken up with his girlfriend and I would still be that naïve girl who was too much in love with her classmate. Probably we could have been skipped the love department and back to our main passion: music.
It was the hellluva fourteen years a go. And today, I am standing in the land of his town which he always wrote stylishly as Qoe-Punk. I strolled along a street and looked at a name written on the sign: W.J. Lalamentik, then I remember this as a street I used to write on the front of the envelopes addressed to him. I try to track down on how I imagined the city would be. Was it the picture of dusty and grayish scenery? Or was it the beautiful shoreline and greenish lontar trees? Too bad, this probably written in bad sector memories. But the experienced I had today answered a little bit of my curiosity.

Of course it was too hard to track him back, even in his hometown. He might get married already, have three children and live outside of this town. But certainly I bear him in mind, physically from the picture he sent me. More ever, the content has been existing in my mind; the stories we shared and the dreams we had. I remember a girl who always wrote eagerly explained everything from her point of view. I memorize who I once was, and gratefully smiled to be the girl I am now.

That Rockaway feeling

I can feel it’s ending. That Sundays, when everyone rushed to the beach just because we had unseasonably warm weather in late September, ...