To a sunrise

I woke up at dawn this morning, unconsiously checking messages in my cellphone. Then I remember the obituary last night.

On my bed, with my eyes open and the room was still dark, I thought of you. Or more of me. Particularly when I said “I’ll make it up to you.” The promise that easier said than done, because we’re human and we always race with time.

It stroke me hard. Apparently, I don’t have all the time in the world. Then I’d rather blame this spacious world. It takes time to get me to your side. And money. And all the efforts to move this lazy bum.

I never managed to make it up to you. I didn’t try hard enough though. Part of me hesitated, are you worth the effort? Do you really want me to make it up to you?

Alone, it gets me to a deeper thinking. I do really want to make it up to you. Doesn’t matter how many times you let it down. Doesn’t matter you appear and dissappear without logic. You should be the one called by Rainbow, because rainbow doesn’t always come out after the rain. Unlike sunrise, it never fails to show after the dark night. Ah, for someone who’s been calling me the Rainbow nickname, I should beat the lazy ass.

The morning crawled in, I crawled back to bed under my fleece blanket. The noise from the nearby mosque broke in the silent. You missed the sunrise today. But I bet, where you are now is sunrise all the time.

Whose date didn't show up.

She has already woken up before her alarm rang, how rare is that. Exactly 7 o’clock the alarm beeped as she was stepping out out from the shower, followed by the smell of her conditioner all over the room. Immediately she hit the ‘off’ button. Her hair was still damp as she put on her black underwear. Most of the time she wears black underwear, but this pair is special, the lacy one but not racy. Or a lot racy, maybe she needed that way.

She browsed through her wardrobe. Feeling a bit flashy today, she put on her creme dress. It is a bit too short though, but she loves showing off her legs. Badminton does it good. And there’s nothing wrong to show off some skin, isn’t it?

She looked at herself at the mirror. Okay, what to do with the face. Nothing. She learn the hardway that guys does not need inches of make up to fall in love with. But of course, for protection and treatment, she applied daycream, sun screen and a sheer of loose powder in neutral color. Hmm, let’s do something about the eyes an lips later. Later in the day, when the time is very near.

Now, the shoes. The vinyl black medium-high wedges, or the creme flats? She tried the flats first then changed to the wedges. Then finally decided to wear the flats. Height is not her signature, so no need to try hard on this one.

She grabbed her bag on the fly then off to the office, where she hardly sat still on her seat and kept on checking on her mobile. Of course, she was too distracted to think rocket science that day. But time flies, some tasks were done and let’s just put things aside for Monday morning to begin the week with. She checked on her watch it was 6 pm already and her heart beat a bit faster.

She stopped in the toilet, bursting out make-up kits from her purse. Soft purple eyeshadows were applied, mascara was spread over her lashes and pinkish blush on were dubbed into her cheekbones. She put on her blue star earrings and took a last look. Hair was ok, everything was great, beside she couldn’t take off the smile of her face.

The Germany restaurant is their favorite dining place. She loves the creamy mushroom soup and the local brewery produced the best beers in town. She sat alone and ordered the usual menu. Accross from her table was two white men talked in enthusiast about business. She didn’t pay attention at all, mostly she swept her eyes over the room, looking for a sign of someone’s present. And of course she kept on checking on her mobile again which unfortunately seemed to be disturbingly quiet. Many times, she starred at it, just to make it ring or beep as a sign that the message is coming.

Two hours have passed. The delicious light meal was finished and the smile from her face has vanished. She was fiddling with her mobile, as if she blamed the equipment of its disfunction. She didn’t dare to lift up her head, she felt ugly and didn’t want the whole world to she her in such situation. A pretty girl eating out alone, even without a book or magazine in hands. There must be something really bad going on. Beside, one of the white men kept starring at her, she can tell that he must be feeling sorry for her.

She gulped down her beer. Gosh, how she felt like she should be really drunk right now. The world doesn’t seem to understand it’s been a long awaiting and how she has dressed up for such an occassion. Such a guy.

Finally, she wrapped up her bag, took out her purse and waved to waiters, asking for the bill. Shortly the waiter arrived and handed her a paper. Her meal expense. Then, he handed her another note, and told her giggly that the note came from that guy. He appointed one of the white men accross her table. She looked at him in surprise while the guy intensely starred at her with a confident smile. The written on the paper was: ‘+628111111 Max. You look very beautiful.’

She smiled back. Took out money from her wallet, paid the bills and wrote down on the same note: ‘Thank you. But I didn’t dress up for you.’

She walked to her flat and crashed into bed with a beaten heart. For once in life she now knows how it feels.

Note on my summer sailing camp

Enschede, 29 June 2009

Yesterday I went sailing at Friesland. We strolled along in the canals and roaming around the lake with our rented boats. Got my skin tanned in just about the right amount (will work on that later), and my Cities I’ve Visited map pinned with another favorite spot.

But today I feel sad. Not because yesterday was not fun or today is less fun. But just now I realized that I am so far from the things that I want to do. Well, maybe not all of my dreams, but some of them. I have just realized about things I wanna do forever. For instances, I like floating in the water on my back and watching the blue sky. I also like wearing less clothes, not because I want to be sexy (I don’t think sexyness judged by the way we dress), but because I feel energetic with more of my skin exposed. And right now, I’m enjoying the feeling of in love without being attached. It is so liberating.

While washing the dishes, I was thinking about all those things. Everything I love, lead to one highlight: freedom. I never understand why people wants to lean on and at the same time recognized my self as a weak figure. Been trying to put my feet in their shoes but I failed at times. I don’t know how to balance my steps, so I guess I’ll decide to fly. Or float. Or sail. Or stay. Or both.

On Packing

Enschede, sometimes in March.

This morning I went up to my room and empty my fridge. Found a cup of straciatella yoghurt and decided to keep it for the night. It is expired though, but as usual I don't care. Yoghurt is rotten milk anyway. Last night I packed up all the things and gave away things to everybody. It is always nice to see our stuffs become useful for someone else. I did a magic call for a friend. It turned out he was very happy for inheriting old school testament, free food, free party stuffs, and the most important is stack of origami papers. We wrapped up things with beers and chips and south East Asian little party.

The first round of packing was done.

Today I woke up in a not-so-strange room and had trouble finding my toiletries in too many cardboard boxes around me. I went to university feeling a lot sleepy, but by five managed to finish the tasks for today. Then I wrapped up things and go home, had too-sweet fried noodle and immediately fell asleep.

Looking all around me, every where are cardboard boxes and semi-packed stuffs. My room mate had a terrible hang over from last night and the smooth snore is all over the room.

I have so many stuffs and looking at the two big overloaded trash bag, I can not believe how many craps and useless things I've been keeping in my room all this time. Shoe boxes, plastic forks, water bottles, shirt I never dare to wear, two size bigger pants, paper, paper, and more papers. I feel uneasy throwing them, but once I decided to get them into the trash bag, they disappear from my life. I feel relieved.

Maybe my life is similarly like that. I have too many junks crowded in. And most of the time I wish that I can easily throw them in a trash bag. Because I believe I’m better if I focus on goals and important issues. But oh how I often curse my complicated mind. And how I wish now to efficiently packing my self.

Go away bad things. Shooh shooh.

The XXs

Readers are free to mix and match the paragraphs. Just make sure you do the numbers correctly.

[1] My ex boyfriend came to my town. After four years of separation without any news exchange, the universe conspired to make us meet. Physically. He texted me all of sudden, said that he was in town. A happy surprises it was though I reluctantly replied. He a bit insisted to arrange a rendezvous and the next thing was, I sat quietly in the couch of his hotel lobby.


[2] He said I look no different than the girl he dated four years ago. I took it as an insult. I wore the same kind of ripped-off t-shirt, the same over worn denim pants and exactly the same flip flops. I amazed that I didn’t dress my self up to impress him. On the other hand, he didn’t look any different either, though I managed to lock up the words in my mouth. He was still lean and tall, with his pale skin and the quizzical light in his eyes.

[2] He said I look different and I raised one of my eyebrows. He smiled and I took it as a compliment. I was sure I did not dress up, but the plain white t-shirt was enough to impress him. I guess somewhere I forget when, I heard he likes me in white. We shook hands and I can not take my eyes off of him. He looks slightly more mature though he was still the same lean and tall that I used to date. His eyes were twinkling, still.


[3] He took me, or rather I took him to a dinner in a Chinese restaurant. He enjoyed the food so much, he managed to finish them off while I eat just enough and desperately seeking for beers. Unlucky me, no beers in this Chinese restaurant. And of course we talked. A lot to cache up but we slowly chatted about general stuffs like what are we doing, and how are the friends we had back then.

[3] He took me, or rather I took him to an Italian restaurant. He said that was the best spaghetti aglio ‘olio he ever had and I bet he hasn’t taste mine. We ordered red wine though I convinced him that wine makes me sleepy. And of course we had talked. I was a little bit chatty, blame the wine. Mostly he smiled and made funny comments.


[4] Then the big questions were popped up. Are you seeing someone now? He showed me a golden ring wrapped in his left finger and I instantly rephrase my answer. I’m seeing someone now, but it’s not a long term relationship yet. Who’s the lucky guy? You don’t want to know and he kept his mouth shut about this matter.

[4] Then the big questions popped up. Are you seeing someone now? I showed him the golden ring sweetly wrapped my finger, “I’m engaged!” as I said excitedly. A little too much. He smiled oh so wide and examined the ring. I didn’t see any rings on any of his fingers and I was too afraid to ask further. He looked deeply into my eyes and I know the night shouldn’t be bothered by the question.


[5] As soon as he finished his dinner, he took me back to his hotel, and this time he directly guided me to his room. I sat on the edge of his bed, not sure what I want to do. I forced my self to watch the tv which aired some craps as usual while he was watching me. After sometimes he sat beside me and kissed my cheek. I sit silently still then he took it as a cue to kiss another part of my body. I kissed back.

[5] We skipped the coffee and get a cab. On the backseat we sat side by side, trying hard to act casual. He hugged my shoulders and I found comfort. The taxi went directly to his hotel, and we went directly into his room. He turned on the tv and we watched a documentary about Madagascar monkey. Next, the penguin. We were so into it and I didn’t realize he stroked my hair lightly. When I turned away from the tv I met his eyes. We kissed.


[6] One thing led to another and the next thing was I sat comfortably in the back seat of the taxi. Right after I arrived home, I hit the shower.

[6] One thing led to another and the next thing was I woke up in the morning next to him. And just like that we got together again.

…

Watch things on VCRs, with me and talk about big love
I think we're superstars, you say you think we are the best thing


VCR – the XX

Piercing Hanoi

Hanoi today, 19 May 2010. We were picked up by #vn guy and his mate who then took us for a pho dinner. Pho has always been my favorite dishes even before I went to the original country. So, having the big white fat rice noodle by sitting in kindergarten-like chairs on the sidewalk, at fairly cheap price but taste at the very best, it was simply heaven. #Vn guy offered a cup of cold tea in a plastic cup, which turned out to be black color drink tasted extremely bitter. I said thank you, but thank you. I didn’t bother to remember the name because I’m sure I’m not gonna order it again. He said the drink was good to give me a good sleep and we all laughed when I said it is not for a sleepyhead person like me.



After that he took us along 1 meter narrow alley, up to the fourth floor of a decent coffee shop then enjoy the scenery from above. Something that is not written in any of the guide books. The view was amazing, Hoan Kiem lake from above along with its colorful ball-shaped lamps, the giant clock on the post office building which Vietnamese refer as their Big Ben, the old colonial buildings around us, and the illumination light from motorcycles traffic below. All of them, plus the silhouette of the young couple who made out obviously in front of us. Right. But we let it be something funny and as usual laughed it out loud.

The coffee kicks strong, and so was he. Not literally, but strong enough to fly me back thousand miles and exactly one year a go, to the days we noticed each other for the first time. Days when we were riding our bikes side by side and fooled around, crowding in our activities with sports, pictures hunting or just simply standing on my balcony. He smoked cigarette religiously while I was doing most of the talking.

Just like general of the Vietnamese, no offense, his English is not perfect. That’s why most of the time I was the talk-active being and he speaks with his eyes. I tried to read his body language, but I guess Vietnamese wasn’t built with extra expressions. With these limitations, I dared my self to read signs from his eyes.

From my eyes, #vn guy is a symbol of Asian simplicity, utterly humble yet profoundly stands on his beliefs and very well matured by his role as a father. He looks quiet and seems to think a lot. Even he has this funny tone of saying “No,” as if he thinks ten times before saying the objection. Very rare he explicitly tells a tale of his life though once it was revealed, I guess it is something to be proud of. After one year of separation, I took a look at him. Nothing changed. He is still the same decent and modest man who stole a piece of my heart. This time, I generously gave another piece.

He showed us around his over populated town. It stroke me that I wasn’t alone with him here, obviously there are more than 6.5 people in Hanoi and I silently assumed that the amount of motorcycles is at least half of it. The houses were built on small patched of land with many storey due to the awfully high rate of the land price, the third most expensive rate after New York and Tokyo. Then I silently assumed that he must have been working hard for a piece of land in outskirt of the town.

I confessed that I love the city. There’s something about the lively city. Hanoi is far from systematic and well-organized city, but it has its own charms. The freely flagging yellow communist logo on red background, bubbling streets, cozy lake and high pitch noises from motorcycle horns are parts of its signature. As an addition, the gastronomic experience is south-east asia culinairy at its best and the coffee is black, thick, bitter and kicks strong. Three sips of it are enough to made me high and all smiley. And this October, Hanoi will celebrate its 1000 anniversary and we enjoyed the festive atmosphere. Hanoi looks that old, but contented with its high spirits vibrant.

As the night was slowly vanishing at very late, I confessed that I love the city and was happy.


But I didn’t confess that it was possibly him who made the difference.
I silently assume that he read it from the light of my eyes.

"No, I'm Sid."

Fine. Hate me. I don’t deserve any of your sympathy, I am an evil with human being identity. Disgust my self inside and out. My fake teeth, my crisp laughter, the way I love stuffed animals, and everything you can’t stand of. I know you dislikes all of my attached adjectives; selfish, single-minded, stranger’s lover, childish, spontaneous, thoughtless, wicked, dangerous flirtatious, heavy procrastinator, sleepyhead to the bone and all that. Call me bitch, hideous, anything. Spit out your nasty words and bad mouth me. Hate me, anyway you want to, it won’t be wrong.

Blame me. For I have destroyed your future, your hope, your dream house, and everything. For Ive been letting my heart hanging out all this time, it was too easy to be ripped out. I’m reckless, and you know I am far from flawless, I don’t belong to your world of perfect simetry. You think you have done everything you could and meanwhile I went anywhere I like and did nothing, so blame me. Slap my face and leave me feeling proud because I don’t have the rights for complain it. Forget the weatherman and let me carry all the guilt upon my shoulder.

Fine. Hate me. Do everything you want to ease yourself. But you can not control me, as you know I am numb. Again, reckless. Maybe, heartless.

You might have been skipped the movie, but I watched it 3 times already just to heart Summer.

My favorite part was:
Summer: We've been like Sid and Nancy for months now.
Tom: Summer, Sid stabbed Nancy, seven times with a kitchen knife, I mean we have some disagreements but I hardly think I'm Sid Vicious.
Summer: No I'm Sid.

(500) Days of Summer

Young Adult Friction

So I back in this old place again, the place where I’ve spent more than hundred thousand nights. It feels so good now, like a simple reunion. I wish I have a decent table for doing computer or paper works, but the desk have moved since ten years ago because it only collected dust. As a replacement, more and more shelves were inserted here. The book collection is obviously growing and I feel happy thinking of it.

I re-read again my favorite books. A bit of guilty feeling is creeping inside since I know that there are still stacks of books that I haven’t finished reading. But then I can’t help it. I long to be glued to a book, and with too many books published these days, it is hard to find one that sticks to hands.

Today I decided to turn again the pages of Summer Sister by Judy Blume. And yes, in sitting of 3 hours, I have re-read one third of it. I stop now, I was trying to catch my breath when Vix, the main character of the book, is having her seventeenth birthday bash. She celebrated it in the beach, along with Caitlin, her bestfriend, or so-called summer sister, and their boyfriends. Warning, spoiler.

They were young, free, reckless and glowing. I can feel the sensation of skin against skin and the overflowing of sunshine. The heart that might skip a beat and the intention to go all the way, without hesitation. Ah, when did I have that kind of sensation? Was it a long time a go? Do I still remember? I went dizzy.

But then I remember the feeling I have had when I was reading this part for the first time. Although I was not a teenager, but I was so envied by the adventures. I remember, I made a mental note not to grow old very soon and gulp the sensation again.

This time I also made a mental note, clearly written with a mixed opinion from my brain, that this is only a young adult fiction. This only happens in young adult life or fiction. Might be strange, might be overwhelming, but this time let me go for a real thing.


 

"...youre taking toffee with your vicodin
something sweet to forget about him..."

Young Adult Friction - Pains Being Pure at Heart

Summer Rain

I flied over thousand miles and skipped spring. I said goodbye to less than 5 degrees temperature with cool breeze and trace of snow then just daydreaming about blooming magnolia. Where I am now, it is 100% summer with over 30 degrees and sticky air. As an addition, sometimes during the day, rain falls like the earth is having shower to wash away the dirtiest dirt. Great, summer rain. No, it’s not summer rain, it’s just rain, typical tropical rain. 

That sort of rain reminds me of summer rain last year. Ah, that was truly a summer rain. Big raindrops, a bit cold and lasted all day. I enjoyed it from the big windows of my room, watching the water poured quickly, a bit disappointed because I had to cancelled a lot of my plans. Though I had trustable umbrella, raincoat and waterproof boots, but some of the activities have to be let go.  

Strangely somehow, I cherished it, the rainy summer days. And if I was too tired to go anywhere I silently wish it was raining. I made a cup of hot chocolate, add few baileys and tuned in to my ‘rain’ play list. The list contains ‘Rainy days and Mondays’ of Carpenters, ‘When I’m thinking about you’ of the Sundays, ‘Gravity’ of Bic Runga, randomly jazzy tunes I downloaded, and many more. Seduced by the chilly weather, the stomach always is more active. Luckily, the excellent chef was next door. He managed to serve suitable food for rainy days, like steamboat, green curry paste, and various soups that I don’t know the name but remember the yummy taste very well.

It’s funny how I remember summer days by the pouring rain. Of course I tried not too waste the chance to have fun under the sun. Many times during week days we went to the outdoor swimming pool and jumped around using the trampoline or had picnics in the park. In week ends we had barbeque parties by the lake and played in the water. I had a two days escapade and collapsed because it was steaming hot in the east Europe. And my favorite part is, sailing in the snaky rivers of Sneek. Oh, what a summer!

But still it’s funny how now I reminisce summer by rainy days where I did nothing but doing activities in my room. I guess it is the nature of me, don’t you think so? Despite all the excitement, I usually remember the most tough times and how I survive them, staying alive, healthy and happy. Sometimes it is hellish or depressing, and sometimes the constant boredom what kills me. But Hole said Live Through This and I believe that. Often the not-so-good moments become the bad memories sector of my brain and are erased unconsciously. Then, of course, the great thing stays, just like antibody. A remedy inside of me, give me verve and strength to carry on. To live through any moments, no matter worse or unbearable. Because there is sunshine after the rain, or even the rain it self is such a beautiful moment of our life. 

Living on a jetlag

It’s been five days and the jetlag doesn’t want to go away yet. Deep sigh. I gulped down coffee after coffee during the day and beer after beer during the night. Unfortunately, due to the traffic in the house, I have been woken up in the morning. Most of the time, it is too early before I could catch 8 hours sleep to call it enough rest.

            Usually I try to be on bed around 12 at night. That is my normal bed time and generally I could not stay awake until 10 minutes after I hit the pillow. But during the jetlag period, after one hour I find my eyes are still wide awake then I try to read a book. After 30 minutes I put down the book and try to close my eyes. Instead of drifting into a sleep, my rapid eye movement is still on a high rate and my thoughts are wandering so furious. Typically, all of the things I worry about pop up and I would try my best not to sob.

            Then I decided to get up. Sometimes I have supper and water after water and try to sleep again. Sometimes I try to read books again or turning on my laptop and play that stupid computer games. Most of the times I feel a bit relieved for just staying awake and admitting that I am still on a jetlag.

            Tonight I find my self under the influence of different bedtime. I have been doing all the rituals, reading, playing games or just laying on a bed. The difference is, tonight I feel contented. I don’t know why. When I noticed that everybody was fast asleep while I was busy with my jetlag night ritual, I feel safe and happier. Strangely, I find a solace with the darkness all around me and a comfort in a night rhythm, buzzing sound from the fridge, the surprisingly loud tick tock from the old wooden clock, the mechanical movement noise of my brother’s cheap fan and the voice inside my head.

            FYI, my boyfriend is visiting, and he is taking over my room while I moved to my brother’s room. Accordingly, all the rooms in the house are occupied and I am loosing my individual spaces. New Order might label it, a place to call my own. Normally, I never mind this. I am certainly not a solitaire person. Though I might be close to selfish, but my life is too often oriented to the people. I like moving from one person to another and am not easily disturbed by the busy crowd. But these strange times I gladly enjoy my own company during the jetlag hours. Just doing what I want to do, without someone’s spying on me, more ever make comments and ruin my day by giving me a cranky mood.

            A western lifestyle has bizarrely built an individual human-being inside me, a strong one. And this one seems braver, sharper and more demanding at the same time. I suspect this is a consequence of being exposed big to the variety of people. And also due to the fact that I have been missing the people here too much. The days of the month have been tough as well, circumstances changed and mood swings uncontrollably. Maybe, just a maybe, no matter how hard I missed the lovely people here, what I often miss the most is my self. Me as my own company.

The cute mug with a little cow inside

I gulped my lady grey tea slowly. Nice. First cup of tea in the morning always raise the curtains from my eyes.
Ah, but this is Sunday, no hurry at all. No assignments to go for a while, and no exam perking up on the schedule. At least, for the week ahead. I plug in the internet cable and wandering aimlessly in the cyber world. Found out the it is unsurprisingly quiet out there. In the need of some music, I tuned in to the Sundays radio. Listening to Wild Horses and Leave This City. Couldn't get any better.
I gulped the tea again then looked at my newly purchased mug. It is a medium big (how come medium be big?) in blue color with a big cow hand-painted on one side. What I like the most is, there is a little cow statue inside. (s)he is peeking up and at the moment is being drawn by the orangish brown transparent tea water.
There was this stupid game on facebook where I join sisters community and fight against other girls. Until now I don't know exactly why I joined them and although I sometimes don't touch it for long while, but I keep coming back again. Sometimes, I play the game, choose lame boyfriends and buy shiny clothes that I would not wear in my real life. In this unreal life, I have a jet plane and more than 25 high heels. It is less fun than my real life though, where I only own two old bikes, one pair of boots and countless sneakers and flip flops. And of course the real boyfriend here is not a boxer nor have a tattoo, but we can laugh and talk and dream and that all counts.
I gulped down the lady grey tea, the little cow inside the mug is not drowning anymore and largely smile at me. How cute. I looked at the big cow on the front side and incidentally came across the words written just above the cow's back. Holland.
It hurts right here.


What if I don't want the cow mugs as souvenirs?
What if, I want my life in this country back?
Can you please come home like, soonish?

2009 – I was a kaleidoscope

This year, I’ve been enrolled in a master course of an institute, so that made me a full-time college student. Period. My life happened between classes, assignments, exams, coffee breaks, journal readings and involved a lot of computer operations. We, students, literally have been spending our life in front of the computer screens almost more than 12 hours a day, and that means half of our student’s life. I try to have a life by squeezing in parties, music concerts, bar hopping, traveling and as normal people do in life, watch movies and read books.


Being a student, my main duty is to learn and report. And with extremely tight deadlines, I worked long hours, digested everything super fast, and the reports mostly came from spinal cord. Crazy, but I have wanted for so long to be here today, so why bother. Complain department is not exist in my student life, but we have life support formed as brilliant lecturers who made the digesting process in doable time, friends who are closer than families and a lot of love even came from strangers.


So, that’s basically is 2009 for me. Of course, many people come and go, numerous new places have been visited and enormous little things made me smile and frown. I really could not wrap up this year yet by fireworks, champagne, prost high in the air altogether with “Happy New Year” shouted out loud, as I’m still in the midst of a big work until the end of February next year. But alright, let’s take a day off, pop up the champagne cork and cheers. Say a prayer and contemplate, even just a little.

As mentioned before, for me 2009 is a year of learning. In 2009 I learn how to read and write, not just a blog but also something more serious like professional report and scientific writings. I learn how to cook, not just putting something in a microwave, but mixing ingredients to create something not too tasteless. I learn how live with sufficient money and made ends meet. I learn how to dress fashionably without showing too much skin. Sometimes face is the only skin to show off, just make it complete with a sincere smile painted on it. I learn how to take pictures with heart, not just get the camera functioning. But most of all, I learn how to love.

I learn how to love whatever the weather. I love the sunshine since a long time ago, so this year I learn how to love a day without it. I learn how to love beginning of spring when the weather is still a bit chilly, but with the smell of magnolia in the air, who would not love it? I learn to love autumn, when it is just cold and colder everyday, but with orange and yellow color of falling leaves, who would not love it? I learn to love winter, when it is just dull and literally hard to breath with sub-zero temperature, but with all white beautiful falling snow from the sky, who would not love it?


I learn how to love people. People with diverse skin colors and culture, their point of view and their flaws. I learn their ritual and their food, and as if it is matter, their biological clock. I am amazed by how our path crossed each other in 2009, and even more overwhelmed that we have to go our separate ways. Still, I love how people inspire me, in any forms. Writings, songs, books, e-mails, blog posts, a pillow talk, long and endless conversation over coffee or by only 140 characters twit.
And by all means, my greatest learning of 2009, is how I learn to love God. And that is, require a whole book or might be series to describe it. So, just keep it aside for now.



I can’t wait for 2010. I think I might fed up with student life and itch to go back to be an organizations’ slave or maybe self-employ my self. I don’t know yet. Let it be unsolved mysteries and let 2010 brings surprise answers. I am not in the mood of making any new years resolutions as well. But one certain thing is, I want to keep on learning in the upcoming years, whether I am a college student or not. Whether I am granted a degree or not.
Life is one big institution, and we are sure here to learn.