Over the Atlantic

It feels so comfy and familiar, curling up in a window-seat. The stewardess has turned off the light inside the plane, and it is so warm under the blanket, with in-flight entertainment on and of course I’m holding Woofy tight.
I am so blessed with the world to see and a job that does it for me. I guess most of my jobs have been built in that way. Three months then Maputo, six months then Nairobi, and five months then Honiara. Places that people would not pin them as holiday destinations at the first place. But yeah, the world is too big to be captured by pages of traveling guide book. Tourism is just one of many ways for appreciating the earth.

And of course there is  my babe on the other line. Someone I love so dearly, I never thought I would find. And doesn't matter the distance, the feeling is constantly at the same level. And we have been built that way, living our mellodramatic life with physical distances between us. But how we love to beat them with any kind of transportation. Yes, our relationship has a lot of carbon print, we are no green at all.
The time I met her last year, it was short. Shorter than I expected, and from time to time I regret it much too much. We made a gorgeous plan, oh we did. Days of relaxing by the beach, in one of the remarkable decent hotel at the south of West Java. I can imagine that we would sit on the porch, looking at the Indian ocean and would feel so contented to have the moment. I'd be sipping my beer, and we would be in our favorite shorts and sleeveless t-shirts. We are sure no models though deep inside we believe we are, and we would pose for the kind of pictures you have seen in summer version of teen magazine.
But that day never comes.

We had tried so very hard to minimize the distance, beating all the miles. Eventually we were in the same country and have our bikinis ready, but God knows why we couldn't meet. I had a quite big change of life in coming months, and once we are in each of our hometown, many things get in the way.
I remember sitting quietly in my room and imagining to ring her up and laugh on whatever, just like we always do. But I can't push the green button, I felt terrible for ruining our best laid plans. In fact, I miss her so much, I couldn't bear the feeling of not knowing when we'll meet again. I was about to fly again to another continent and it seems beyond imagination.
But as we stroll days, constantly yearning i miss you over the transatlantic connection, we didn't realize that we are this close to meet each other. My tickets are booked and her tickets followed. I'm crossing my fingers tight, hoping this will be another adventure with her. We've been in a long distance relationship and loathed with the fragile feeling that it all became overrated.
But I'm here now, over the ocean and after the business is done, we're going to giggle over whatever. We’re going to talk about our life, dreams, or simply walk down the street facing the sweet reality. We're going to show off that the world is never too big and there is no such thing as we're too stranded from each other.
This kind of moment remind me of life sometimes is sort of.. kind. Nothing is too surreal, and nothing is too bitter, because there will be moments of happiness slip in in many ways. And nothing will ever come true if you keep saying 'Oh it's so far!' because life is a journey always worth-taking.

Procrasination Nation

Some days, most of them are the winter days, I find my self tied up to the crib. There's nothing I wanna do except being lazy in my room, or living room, or bubble bathing or cook my self a decent dinner. Of course, I can easily hop to the Irish pub next door who frequently features nice live music, or walk down the avenue to our favorite saint bar with a kick-ass playlist. And I can always knock on R's doors and hang-out with the roomies while strumming guitar and pat the cat. And there's an option of enjoying indie flix two-blocks away and be happy that I manage to get very cultural with my choice of movie. Or anything else because I happen to stay at the hippest area of the great empire. Or do the laundry as I'm in the state of lacking clean undies to wear.
But despite of those, I curl in the corner of my couch, flicking through Spotify playlist and think about you a little too much. I grab my cells, typed 'I miss you' and never get the courage to press the green Send button.


Tossing and turning. Last night I found my eyes stay open. This happens once in a blue moon. I knew that the next morning I don’t have to wake up early, but still I was sleep deprived.
I ducked my self under the duvet. It was one of the chilly autumn night, and I’m glad that I dressed less but I felt the warmth. You found me moved an inch and drag your body to mine a little more. I smiled to find your fingers around my tummy and your lips on the crook of my neck. I tried to make up story in my head, something similar like this, then I managed to dooze off a while.
Maybe it was 10 minutes, my eyes were closed but my brain was alert. I slept on my tummy and buried my self on the pillow. You were disturbed and caressed my bare back. It felt like a light feather and I enjoyed the tingles. But still, it didn’t act like a sleeping pill.
I secretly grabbed my iPod and tried to converse my best friend on the other end. But the messenger made a pop sound that even though I turned down the volume in the minimum level, I was still afraid that it would wake you up. I tried to play a stupid game instead, but it was not fun without the sound effect. A major doubt.
But I didn’t want to play mini games. I wanted to sleep and dream and snore and forget a while about the week. It’s been too interesting time with many things happened and I need to conserve my energy. Instead, I felt nothing but tired and seemingly excited.
Tossing and turning. I positioned my self facing you and stared at your features. The smooth line of your thin lips and your lean nose. Your white cheeks were a bit red-ish with a sight of blushed. Glared at your closed eyes then realized, those must be the reason I can’t sleep a wink. Because seeing those cutest pair of eyes, first thing in the morning, it must be such a bliss.

Roti Kirey Lullaby

These days. These days are not easy at all, at least according to my not-so-well documented life. Far from family, and have to snap decisions in short time, I feel like my head wants to explode. I somehow suspect it already did a while a go. I feel alone, not in a sense that I don't have people around me. But yes, I feel like leaning against the wall or someone else's shoulder. I remember when things are a bit easier, and everybody seems happy with whatever they have in hands. And we will continue pursuing each dreams and imagining rainbows. I know, this thou will pass. But I couldn't believe that I've been in this situation for weeks.
Things have been a bit difficult for us. But I don't dare complaining because it seems like I have no room in life for it. I stroll on days, and week-ends with each night I pray that tomorrow the good news will pop.
I want my Dad. And this time I want my Mom. Never in my life I want them so near. I want to be with them through every smiles and tears. That in the end, Dad will take us to a nice restaurant, and treat us the most expensive meal. And with the happy ending, we share a bottle of beer.
That I know, we will be just fine.

star truck

I have this thing with rock n roll and people associated with it. I’d rather stereotyping me as a geek whose career involves a lot of math and technical operation, so I don’t encounter a rock star on a daily basis. And I get so shy among them, knowing this type of creatures know how to play instruments, how to write song and how to hypnotize the audience. Mostly I stay quiet because I don’t find myself all-out talking to them.
But that night, I stroke a conversation and they welcomed me back with enthusiasm. And the next thing I knew, I sat happily in the back seat, trapped between guitars and snare drums. We hopped from one bar to another, one gigs to another, and I got the privilege to enter the venue with all-access pass. Of course we had a good time, we danced and I took a lot of snapshots. But still, they are rock stars and it seems we live in a different casts.

But then there was this one night, where me and him were chillin’ out while admiring the skyscrapers view. He strummed his guitar and I hummed along in a low voice, knowing I can never compete the full-time musician. Then we talked about things in life, how travel brings inspiration and open-hearted people touch us. He mentioned the name Gordon Sumner, and of course this always lead to endless conversation how I fancy the British guy a little too much. We traced the lyrics thoroughly and how we adore the great way of his story telling. Each verses, from the Soul Cages to the Dream of the Blue Turtle, from Ten Sumoner Tales to Sacred Love. How come this guy can be so poetic and brilliant and sensitive at the same time? He wished to write more great songs, at least something close to Why Should I Cry for You. I smiled like ‘what?’ and then we kissed.

So I kissed a rock star and it feels great to have my teenage dream finally came true. Afterward I might write something moving and touchy like Sting did. Or else something crap close to this. But hell yeah, a kiss is a kiss, and a rock star is a rock star. And me, entitled to have a swoon feeling like performing in front of thousand audiences giving a standing ovation for the song I just finish.

The naturalist

screw me for not having remove you out of my facebook friendlist. that once in a while your name appears on my timeline, and i accidentally stumble upon your snaps of trees and flowers. no sight of your face, but i can't help smiling over your view of this world. people can take you to urban setting, but they can't take away the nature in you.

don't get me wrong, i have over you. though by judging through series of pictures and status on each facebook's wall, i can see that we are now very single. or at least i am and at least i thought you are too.and it might be that it's been a while that i haven't involved in an intense and committed relationship, i must say i miss it. i miss to be someone's other half. then for sure, the bittersweet of how things turned out in a strange way between us, it lingers on. like, how casual it was when i first knocked on your door that night. you didn't show that you were surprised to see me. but of course you were a bit shocked when i ask 'can i have tea in your room?' 'i don't have any tea' 'i bring my own tea', i still remember that look when i cupped the red mug with both hands in front of your face.

after that, things flowed naturally. there was nothing wrong with me asking you 'do you want to watch movies tonight?', and it was totally normal we set your 13" macbook as our home theater. it seemed common to watch movies that close to LCD screen and that close to each other. because of the distance, it was very casual that i cuddled in your arms for every screenings. it wasn't strange that it was only a cuddle. after the credit title rolled up, i said goodnight to you and packed my cheap speakers home. then of course, it was not extraordinary that finally on one of those nights, i ended up falling asleep in your room.

those good old days, smile at me like i always remember you were originally funny. amongst those guys down the line, you were the one who flattered me with your compliment of 'tonight you look lovely and not fat.' i might just slap you in the face, but we were too drunk to be dishonest that night, and we went home marching in each other arms.

not so often during the day, i thought of you and wonder if you would think of me too. probably, a tiny bit of your brain keep the memories always alive, and sometimes in the day you smile when you see my snaps of rocks and sands. do you miss my foolish smile, maybe? or maybe you don't. i always push the thought aside, saying that we're through.

but i guess it's natural that deep inside my healing heart, i wish you would miss me too.  

the greatest coffee in the world

it's been a month and i've been continuously rambling about my craving for sanger. what's wrong with me? and what is sanger, actually?
this would classified people into 3 categories: people who doesn't get the idea what sanger is, people who knows it and love it, and people who knows sanger from the people who loves it.
and you know in which category i fall into.

so yeah, sanger is basically an acehnesse coffee mixed with condensated milk. i'm not a coffee maniac, but i do love sanger. it's just different than any other coffee i have ever tasted. i can't really point out why.
back in my banda aceh days, i usually had sanger at night, after dinner. it was not on the daily basis, but very often i sipped it with the companions of sweets and snacks. i rarely have sanger in take-away, always i finished it at the coffeeshop. and all these coffeeshop, they are everywhere in banda aceh, nothing special about them. some of them famous and have more customer. some of them are just small kiosks with two or three tables. but, people, mostly guys, do spend a lot of time here. enjoying coffee or sanger while rambling about everything. then i realize, it was them who add values to my sanger, which now i miss the most.

the truth is, i miss all those days. i'd rather blame this time of the month where i feel so weak. and to comfort my self, i fly with the time machine to the time when life was a grant. and of all times, the memories of sanger shown up. moments of my life, where everything can be almost flawless. when i almost had it all, the best coffee in the world, a family so i don't get lonely when i turn the key, how i love my job, stretch of white sandy beaches as my playground, and of course, it was where everybody knows your name. how fascinating simple life can be, even without shopping malls, cinema, bars, and fancy restaurants. instead, we sit and talk over sanger for hours.

today i had a chat with, Jack. let's just call him Jack, because that's how we call each other. he's a native banda aceh citizen and the best companion when it comes to enjoy the city. he said he missed me. and of course i immediately response with 'I MISS SANGERR!!' he laughed, and stroke me with his sentence, 'this place is not the same again, jack. it is less crowded now. and i miss having sanger beside you.' whatever that is, jack, i miss it. it hurts a little of how beautiful things can not always remain the same.

as time goes by, places and people place change, but memories sometimes decide to stay with the crazy precise details.

The curve of your spine

There is one certain place that I will always remember. At times whenever I don’t want to get wet because I can’t embrace the rain, or whenever the sun strikes too much. Right after I called it a day, and even more when I sing myself Lighthouse Family’s ‘Whatever Gets You Through the Day’.
I would simply curl my body against yours and I know that I am less alone in this world. And every time I do it like that, you will find my hands in yours and hold them closer to my heart.
The place is labeled as my utmost favorite corner. Whenever I feel to give up, or think that a big time positivity is overrated, or confess that I am weak and lonely, I would curl up and find you don’t share the same view. Because this place is warm, even if I show too much skin off. And for the reason that your eyes radiates and the way your flesh glows under the dim light. Even though I can’t see it, ‘cause my eyes are usually wide shut.
And I know that I would rate the place with five stars. Because no matter how jumpy or tired I am, there is always a bliss. And it doesn’t matter the next thing I do, whether I will smile, or cry, or simply say nothing since I only want to feel to be next to you. And whatever words come out of my mouth whether I curse the world or exaggeratedly praise the sun. You will response with, I love you more.
And you will say that everything is going to be alright. And even though I know it’s a lie because not all things turn out exactly the way I want to be, and this little demanding girl does not always get what she wants. But it feels so good to know that somebody also hopes for the same thing.
At all times the world is just too mean and the weather gets too harsh, I just want to curl up. Because right there, at the curve of your body, I believe it is the most comfortable zone on earth.

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, ...