Last night, heard his car ignited, then faded away from my house.

I was... breaking. Down.

And by this morning I woke up. How I wish those were only dreams.

No Fruits For Today by Sore just played on the radio.

Then I laughed myself out. Ah, lagu s*alan.

X'mas Eve: We Were... Chocolate High!

Phew, I finally got home. Just now, me and three of my friends went for a dinner in Brussels Spring. It's a chocolate place. And what's so funny was that we celebrated the Christmas in the fact that actually none of us is a Christian. What's funnier? My friend, Gitta, she even wears the hijab. Wohoho... We dressed in red and/or green, and we switched presents. Please don't get this wrong, it was all for fun :)

Unlike the prior postings, today's pictures will be a bit colorful...

 

I like the minimalist interior of the place.

 

Me and Fika were already too hungry while waiting for Gitta and Ghina to come, so we ordered the desserts. Mine was called Coffee Time sundae and Fika got herself a home made Belgian cake, I kinda forgot the name. Go have a try on those! Nyiammyy.. :9

 

Each of us with random names of others who we'd receive the X'mas gift from.

 

Left pic: the wrapped presents. Right pic, from top left, clock wise: candle holder for Gitta, bracelet for me, 

necklace for Fika and purple umbrella for Ghina.

Oh!

 

You may not leave this place without ordering its best beverage. The Coccain Inhaler. Choose the chips of chocolates of your taste: the dark or the white ones, then place them into the burnt milk.

 

After all.. Gracias, mi chico bonita! 

What a one fine day.

Worth the time. Worth the fun.

And...

Merry Christmas,

for those of you who celebrate it.

It really unnerves you when someone who healed your old wound, is actually the one who gets you bruised then leaves you just another cut.
A new, deeper one.

When A Million Thanks Wouldn't Ever Be Enough

Looks like there were too many melancholic postings for the last a couple of days, eh?
But not to worry! I'll submit something else now. Sorry for the personal thingy, okay? :p

Today's the 22nd of December, which (necessarily) happens to be a special day for every mother.
To be honest, I never call myself a sensitive-romantic kind of type, who buys my mom flowers or gift in this very moment every year.
This morning, it even cost me my pride to congratulate her.
Dua kutub yang bertolak belakang, that's how my Grandma describes me and my mother.

In the same time, I'd feel a bit blameful ending up this day without writing something about my mom.

Here are some pics of hers. Just got them from an old photo album. They're still really printed in B&W.

It's her just after she gave birth to me. It was a normal delivery.

Tadaaaa... There goes her anak durhaka coming into this cruel cruel world. That's me...

Three month old Ira.

Dua kutub yang bertolak belakang.
Yes, Grandma was right.
Me and my mother.. We had huge fights, conflicts.. For too many times.
Had a whole different points of view for almost every, single, thing.
When she says A, I would selfishly do the Z.

Even so, she will always be someone I'd give my life, my everything for.
No kidding. No jokes.

For all her unconditional love that have got me to who I am right now,
When a million thanks wouldn't ever be enough,
And if only she can read this,
Here's her daughter, wholeheartedly saying, "Selamat Hari Ibu, Mama".

Fragility

Blackberry saya menunjukan pukul 4.23 a.m. Padahal semalam alarm saya set untuk jam 5 subuh.

Sial. Lagi-lagi saya sontak terbangun. Dan yang pasti akan terjaga untuk waktu yang lama. Rasa kantuk menjadi begitu mahal harganya. Sudah tak terhitung ini hari ke berapa.

Siluman itu bernama Kekecewaan. Dia mampu merasuk, membangunkan tanpa suara. Dan tampaknya begitu senang menabur mimpi buruk di tengah tidur saya. Membawakan sekelebat ingatan tentang luka yang memang belum kering. Memprovokasi alam pikir dengan cerita sakit hati.

Mencoba bangkit dan melangkah. Namun ambrug kembali keesokannya. Begitulah saya setiap hari.

Dan sekarang. Saya masih merasa luar biasa... rapuh.

Image courtesy of Oleg Breslavtsev

Malam di Dua Puluh Desember

Tidak. Tidak ada yang spesial dengan tanggal ini.

Ini cuma saya. Saya yang sama seperti di sebuah malam sekitar dua bulan yang lalu, yang juga duduk di table ini.

Oh. Tapi tidak. Tidak seperti yang ada di foto ini. Malam itu, gelas caramel macchiato saya berdiri bersebelahan dengan gelas iced caffee mocha miliknya.

Tidak seperti malam ini.. Saat itu, di sini, kami saling berdiam. Saya belajar untuk ujian.. dan dia mengerjakan tugas kuliahnya. Lucu. Kami autis. Berjam-jam.

Saat itu, walau di ambience yang miskin kata, dalam rasa yang tak terbahasakan, saya sadar betul saya bahagia.
Dimana sesekali tertangkap di sorot matanya, binar yang berkata betapa dia bahagia saya ini miliknya.
Such a compassion in his eyes.
Sinar mata yang saya tahu tidak bisa bohong.
Dimana sesekali rangkulnya, berucap bahwa dia bangga saya adalah perhiasannya.

Malam ini, saya memberanikan diri menghirup secercah bayangnya.
Yah.. mungkin hanya untuk sepersekian detik. Karena saya tahu, akan sakit rasanya.

Teringat bisik pertanyaan darinya malam itu, tentang definisi cylinder cell cast dan obat anti-tuberculosis. Yang tidak bisa saya jawab. Bodoh dan bodoh. Kami tertawa.

Dan di pojok ruangan kafe ini, sekarang. Seberkas rasa memerihkan.
Rasa yang menamparkan sosoknya kembali di sebelah saya.
Di sofa abu-abu yang sekarang dingin karena kosong.

Rindu akan hangat auranya yang sederhana.
Yang seperti itu. Cukup yang seperti itu. Tidak lebih.
Dalam keheningan yang menyamankan.
Dan bukan sisi jiwanya yang lain.
Sisi yang temaram, yang sungguh tak ingin saya ingat.
Dan selalu saya pilih untuk tidak saya kenal.

Hell yeah. Cukup.

Sudah saatnya saya sapu lamunan saya.

Mata ini bergulir menatap pojok kanan bawah monitor laptop.
Hampir setengah sepuluh... dan paper cup green tea latte saya sudah tinggal seperempat isinya.
Belum terlalu larut.

Tapi saya tahu. Saya lebih baik pulang.

If you still remember this place, lds

An Aperitif

"The role of the writer is not to say what we can all say, but what we are unable to say" - Anaïs Nin

Hello hello there...

It's me waving high towards the blog land. Rolling my eyes, wondering what to write, what to share.

Here's just where I hold nothing back.

Nice to meet you.
Indira