Saturday, August 13, 2016


It wasn't a holiday, and it wasn't for work. At the very last minute, I bought the return ticket. Only the returning place that I have to come back to was somewhere that I wish I could be away for a longer period of time for. It was a tough period of time. It's still tough, but that moment was specifically felt tougher than now. I was considering whether it's a mistake to go, to fleet. But yet, I still swiped my card and took out my passport. I went there. I stayed in the room. I looked outside the window. Thinking I still don't feel at ease. I went out and met some strangers. A handsome short Japanese guy, a tall yet smelly European backpackers. I ate the local food again. I walked the same streets again. Looking up and looking down, stealing a glimpse at an empty stall. I flew to a foreign land, not admitting that I was running away from the beginning.

Thursday, March 3, 2016

To make a home

To notice the lights that creeping through the thin curtain, the time sun rises and from which side of the house, the sound of the winds blowing through the pipes and make scary noises, the rattles of the wooden doors, the clicks sound of our front door, the smell of fresh apples from the diffuser that I put on the windowpane, the clings of glasses looking for a spot in our small plastic dishes container, the breaker for the kitchen appliances and kitchen lights, the time it takes for the water to heats up from the moment we turn on the switch, and of course, to be thankful for the safe feeling and comfort this house has been provided through our time living here. 

Tuesday, March 1, 2016


It's been a while for so many things. It's been a while since the last time I had something to write. It's been a while since the last time that I had the urge beneath my feet to spill the words. It's been a while since my old life. Maybe that's not the right thing to say, but there are so many changes happened and my life is not the same anymore. I lost the will to write, long before that night in November when we crossed our legs in a friend's garage where we put some chairs and a rattan table.

I need to remind myself about those magics in every day life. The small things that make contents to life. Like the sound of the trees in the morning or how the lights creeping through my windows a little bit after 7 am. The smell of a morning coffee and the soft hum of the house breathing. Simple things that lately, for almost a year, I can't seem to notice as they deserve it. I miss that adventurous itch and curiosity for the daily wonders I've put aside for a while. The sight and perspective of the world from the eyes of the girl who I used to be. 

Sunday, October 25, 2015


It feels like it's only yesterday when we sipped coffee from the side of a lotus pond in the middle of Balinese village. Away from the city hustle and the deafening honking horn. Life was simple and somehow all felt fulfilling. And now I think I have to prepare my heart for a new year. Time is so precious, but it also could be the furthest distance that we won't be able to cross.

Sunday, October 11, 2015

His world

"He's paddling back and fort, but the tide was low and he was high. I watched the scene from the wooden boat and I was reminded why I'm in love with the world too. He was stern in his boyish smile and light steps. Somehow he reminded me of spring scent and fresh lemongrass. How the year felt like passing too fast with his presence. Near and undivided by time zone. The time, with him, was infinite. Because it felt surreal yet it left marks and memories. He guarded in a wandering will, saying that there's a room to make mistakes. Because this life, as he said, is too precious not to be lived."

Sunday, September 13, 2015

What I do not know about break up

It only took her the second sip of wine before she asked me that question, "What should I do?". It was one friday night and I just got back from work. Sitting there with a friend who just broke up with her boyfriend. If I didn't know better, I would had thought she's drunk already from the way she behaved and the tone in her voice as she was seeking my advice on the ending of her relationship. I claimed nothing on it. 

I know nothing about break up. But the thought of so this is it that pass in mind when you watch someone from the opposite side of the street with half of your previous life together packed in the back of the car as he dissolving, and wondering if he were looking at the rear view while he's moving forward - leading his way onto another dream. 

I know nothing about break up. But that cautious feeling - like something has slipped through my fingers regardless how well the relationship ends. And if there's such a thing as a good end - it's just end. And the ending sometimes isn't as unpainful as we thought it would be. Because wasn't a minute ago we were still laughing? Together. And the next thing we know all the promised travel and a simple plan like washing the dishes become a hundred years away. 

I know nothing about break up. But the time that it takes for the acceptance to really sink in. Sometimes the concept of it's-not-here-anymore just doesn't kick in right away. Even when you're staring at the empty side of the bed and telling yourself that things are changing - still it doesn't feel real yet. It's scary to think that now we have to fight and defend alone by ourselves. Or simply it's just lonely to share a microwaved kfc chicken at 11 pm with yourself. 

I know nothing about break up. Except that it's not the end of the world, but it's not a nice feeling either. Except that the furthest distance that could be between two people is a minute ago. Except that heart is a resilient place. For once that I was told it could break to million pieces time and time again, but it will always have space to love. So I was sitting there that night, with my friend. And I told her the truth - I know nothing about break up. It's not the end of the world even though it's not a nice feeling either.

Sunday, September 6, 2015


"There are times when I can smell the coffee - from a place that's a few flights away from here, that I had in previous chapter of life. And I can feel the heat of tropical sun outside like it's here. Now. I sense the ambiance, the noise of roosters and singing leaves and breathing morning. I lick that memories, because it's delicious and it feels so real that it's almost hurt. Because I can see them, inhaling all their scents, even when my eyes are wide open."
a feeling of longing, melancholy, 
or nostalgia that is supposedly characteristic
 of the Portuguese or Brazillian temprament