My-God-is-Forever-Good Attitude

Okay. Now I really think I have to put an end to this all-things-are-bad attitude and start again a lifestyle with my-God-is-forever-good attitude. I complained way too much all this time. I looked at the bad side way too much. I started everyday with all my worries over things I couldn't handle myself and totally forgot my habit of waking up every morning with praise and gratefulness. So what kind of a christian do you think I am?

 

I refused to give up on my helplessness. I decided to look on HOW GOOD my God is, how unfailing His love is, how good I have been taken care of, this good for nothing old girl.

 

My God is good, always good, forever good. No matter what.

Galau

I am not skilled to understand what God has willed, what God has planned. I only know at His right hand, stands one who is my Savior. My Savior loves, my Savior lives, my Savior's always there for me. My God He was, my God He is, my God He's always gonna be.

(My Savior My God--Aaron Shust)

 

Galau. Resah. Namun ada masanya bukan bagianku untuk mengerti. Ada waktunya untuk menerima bahwa bagianku adalah menjalani. Ada kalanya untuk hanya percaya dan berhenti bertanya. Apapun yang terjadi, itu bukan akhir dunia. Meskipun itu akhir dunia, Allahku tetap mengasihiku.

End End End

I just want to write write write

so that I don't have to think think think

and I don't need to remember remember remember

all those times which are so sweet sweet sweet

even though most of the time they were actually bitter bitter bitter

and causing me too much of a pain pain pain

 

I really need to write write write

all those things that bring tears tears tears

for every reason anyone can think think think of

so that I won't forget forget forget

that once once once

I have been here here here

I have been hurt hurt hurt

I have been so sad sad sad

I have been so happy happy happy

I have met you you you

I have said good byes byes byes

I have learned that that that

everything has an end end end

all good things have an end end end

all bad things have an end end end

 

Even me someday will come to an end end end

I will be forgotten for sure sure sure

So why wonder wonder wonder

if now I learned a bit of that art art art

the art of being forgotten forgotten forgotten

 

Everything has an end end end

Deadly Tired

Physically. Emotionally. Mentally. Not to mention academically.

 

Going home early today. Hope some sleep will do me good. Oh and some prayers must do me good.

Pass Me Not, O Gentle Saviour

Masih inget aja lagunya Fanny J. Crossby itu: pass me not o gentle Saviour, hear my humble cry. Gue google cari terjemahannya, nemu kaya gini: mampirlah dengar doaku, Yesus penebus. Rasanya jaman dulu gue mudaan, terjemahannya ngga kaya gitu deh. Tapi yah, ingatan gue belakangan ini kurang bisa diandalkan, jadi mungkin memang gitulah terjemahannya dari jaman kuda gigit besi. 

 

Intinya, kaya gitu deh gue tiap bangun tidur minggu-minggu belakangan ini. Tiap pagi bangun dengan resah, bisa ngga ya gue hari ini ngerjain sesuatu dengan benar? Tiap hari bangun pagi, ke meja kerja gue, pulang tengah malam, lelah bersusah payah berusaha mengerjakan sesuatu dengan benar dan seringkali pulang tanpa hasil. Doa gue tiap pagi, masih sama aja: berkenanlah, Tuhan, memberkati pekerjaanku hari ini...

 

Dua minggu lagi sebelum term ini berakhir. Seharusnya minggu ini gue sudah siap dengan segala sesuatu dan tinggal merampungkan tulisan gue. Dan gue masih amat sangat jauh dari itu. Gue tau, amat sangat tau, kerja keras sia-sia tanpa berkat Tuhan. Jadi sekali lagi, sambil berusaha tetap bekerja keras, gue mohon Tuhan gue yang baik, berkenanlah memberkati pekerjaan gue hari ini. Don't pass me by. Don't pass me by. Please don't pass me by.

Farewell

"Thank you for travelling with London Midland's service." That voice again. But this time, I glued my eyes to those words on my kindle. Three different guys has been sitting next to me since the train first departed from Euston. I didn't know them, didn't even bothered to try to talk to any of them, didn't even bothered to look at them. I kept on focusing on my kindle. None of them was you. No more London Midland services with you. The last one has been in the morning. The very last one.

 

How many London Midland's services did I take with you? Not so many, weren't they? But it felt like so many. Just like those Nando's session I used to have with our other friend. Feel like so many while in fact there were only a few sessions took place.

 

I got off the train at that station, you know, our station. Cross by the stairs, walked by the grass field. The horses were still there, eating as always. I hurried up to my flat but suddenly couldn't bear the idea that you wouldn't walk me back to my flat anymore. No more early evening walk back from the grid to my flat. No more late after-dinner walk from my flat to "three bus stops from here". No more 15-minutes walks which were always much much more than 15 minutes because everywhere was always 15 minutes walk for you. No more dinners in my kitchen. No more silly and idiot questions from me. No more "it's common sense!" grumble from you. No more random emails replied in 2 minutes. No more laughters over teasing our friends. No more so many things. It was the end of it. And tears started falling down my cheek. This was the very end of it.

 

Will we ever see each other again? It was miraculous how life united us in this place. It was miraculous that through everything we learned to enjoy each other's company. By God's plan, I believe, we are going through our own paths now. Some things really last together. But we never know, we never know. Will our paths crossed each other's again someday in the future?  We never know, we never know.

 

My friend used to say that you were my first friend here and at the end has become my last friend. Yea, quite funny isn't it? My journey in this land of rain and wind started with you and ended with you (almost ended, actually, almost). Someone in the church said that God really has a sense of humour. Of course, must be one of His sense of humour that made Him planned of our encounters here, something I will always treasure.

 

So farewell for now, dearest friend. I don't want to wish you anything. I'm praying for all the best to happen in your life, so I'm sure it will happen. It's just a matter of time for our eyes to see. Showers of blessings upon you, dearest friend, from now until eternity.

Counting the Days

In eight days, I will be saying good bye to one of the most important person in my life. Most probably the last good bye ever. Most probably I will be forgotten forever. Most probably I will be the only one cherishing the memory of the time we spent together, both good and bad.

 

And life goes on, no matter what I feel, no matter what I want.

Grateful

I feel so terrible for losing my father three years ago, when I was 29, seeing my colleagues still have theirs when they are past their 40s, seeing even my mother still have hers now that she has passed her 50s. Then I read a four-years-younger-than-me friend's status on facebook, saying that it's 17 years after her father passed away.

 

Anything can be worse. I am determined to be more grateful.

This Fight

All this hype, people celebrating their end of MSFM, their GLORIOUS end of the year of fighting and battling, and as a friend I feel I will have to be happy for them. We used to fight together, day and night, oh those sleepless nights. I should have been happy for that wonderful end of theirs. But at the end, I'm just human. I can only congratulate one and one person only, the only one suffered as much as me, the only one I know that has shed tears on every night of this battle. I want to genuinely congratulate you all, dear friends. After all, you have always been there for me, even on my darkest time of uselessness. But please just let me say nothing for this and this time only. I just want to feel sorry for myself.

 

Even so, nobody has seen the end of me. I'm still fighting.

i.wanna.quit

i.just.wanna.quit.

tired.of.it.all.

the.big.guy.is.gonna.call.me.names.again.

the.small.guy.wont.help.either.

no.place.for.a.dumb.

i.just.wanna.quit.

Start from the Beginning

Oke, oke, jadi terlalu banyak khawatir juga ngga ada gunanya. Hanya khawatir juga cuma bakal bikin semua kekhawatiran tadi jadi kenyataan. Bingung ngga tau mau mulai dari mana juga ngga ada gunanya. Semua cuma buang-buang waktu dan bikin kemungkinan terburuk jadi kepastian. Jadi, mari kita mulai dari awal.

 

1. Doa dulu yakk. Minta Tuhan pimpin, minta Tuhan beri ide, inspirasi, ketenangan, kekuatan, kesabaran, keteguhan hati, dan pastinya kecerdasan yang cukup.

2. Matiin internet browser.

3. Mulai sketsa algoritma buat koding, bikin koding

4. Istirahat panjangnya kalau udah kelar koding yaa. Sebelumnya, selamat menikmati dulu lah.

 

Kaya kata khotbah tadi di gereja, hidup itu kaya rollercoaster: nakutin. Menakutkan pas mau naik, pas mau turun, pas di titik teratas, pas di titik terendah. Akan ada banyak kala ketika manusia ngga bisa enjoy the ride. Dan itu normal. Good news is, God is on my side. Jadi, sekarang tarik napas panjang, mulai dari awal, ini semua proses yang normal. Ngga ada yang salah dengan semuanya. Tuhan memberkati, itu pasti. Amin. 

A Conversation

a: i think you should continue your counselling session

b: why?

a: you are too stressful

b: but it's better than it used to be, much better

a: so you think not being able to eat, can't get up at normal hour is normal then?

b: no. i'm not saying that

a: well if you say it's normal then go on with it

b: you know, these sessions are really exhausting

a: you mean eating?

b: i mean the counselling. i will unavoidably digging into things i don't want even to think about

a: you mean you don't want to talk about some things?

b: i mean i don't even want to think about some things. talking is easy if you can think about it

a: but eventually you will need to solve your problem

b: yea

b*: but my problem is you

Wicked

I went out watching a musical with a friend yesterday, Wicked it was. Well, he's leaving for good in a two week time and we may never see each other again. I always have this feeling that he doesn't really fond of me and only will hang around with me if there is no one else around. So well, when he said he planned to watch a musical, I asked if he's going for Lion King or Wicked, since these two fascinated me much. So Wicked it was.

The story line was okay. The songs were okay, even I don't remember any single tone of the music, so the music must not be that ear-catching to my not-so-sophisticated ear. Nevertheless, I am listening to the Wicked album now on Spotify and in particular quite fancy No One Mourns the Wicked (the wicked cries alone, the wicked cries alone) and I'm not That Girl (wishing only wounds the heart). And oh, Popular is quite a catch on my ear. I quite like Galinda (or later Glinda) by the way, sounds like me, a bit soft hearted, not so much of a brainer if you don't want to call it dumb, child-like most of the time, somehow popular in some circles, but without the beautiful and fair part. One more, I hate the Fiyero guy. Such a loser he is, wandering around Glinda without loving her and in a blink of time, when Alphaba showed up again, turned to Alphaba leaving the full of love Glinda broken-hearted and confused.

This is the cast of the play: Rachel Tucker (Elphaba), Louise Dearman (Glinda), Mark Evans (Fiyero), Julie Legrand (Madame Morrible), Clive Carter (The Wizard), Julian Forsyth (Dr Dillamond), Zoë Rainey (Nessarose), Ben Stott (Boq). Worth watching, in my opinion, and clearly worthed the 18 pounds for the ticket and 10 pounds for the rail rover!

Hey, Mood. Where are Thou?

I searched for thee at the land of the fjords. Thou are not there.

I explored the city of lights trying to find thee. Thou are not there.

I digged deep into the huge building of books. Thou are not there.

I tortured myself sitting in front of that blinking monitor. Thou are not there.

I buried my head under those words I read, those words I write, those words I play with. Thou are not there.

I delved into random places. Thou are not there.

I swam in the ocean of caffeine. Thou are not there.

 

Where are thou, good old Mood?

Come back to mommy. I need thee.

Love Hurts?

Really?
Does it?
I repeat, does it?

God is love.
Love comes from God.
Love is a character of God.
Everything from God should nurture, not hurt.

Love doesn't hurt.
Expectation does. 

bapak

just read my sister's status of facebook: kangen nasi goreng seafood dan pindang-sambal-kemiri bapak (miss father's seafood fried rice and boiled fish with hazelnut sauce). and a surge of emotion flows through my whole body.

 

my parents have four children, making me the eldest. our father, we call him bapak, was so many things to us the children. well, our mother is an amazing mother, having done things no other mothers nor wives would do in life, stretching out everything to give all things possible to our family, giving her life and love to keep our family from falling apart, praying day and night to keep my troubled brothers and sister from totally messing up their lives. she really made it, an amazing woman indeed.

 

but bapak is our national hero. oh okay, he is my national hero. i mean, he was the one for us. the one and only one who was willing to see our dreams and saw the chances that those dreams might come true. the one who would treat our dreams as things that were just not yet became reality but soon would do. he was the one telling me to go with my math major simply because he knew i loved it so much. he was the one telling me to go for this posh boarding school simply because he knew i wanted to give it a try. he was the one allowing me to apply to this posh junior high school even when he knew he might never be able to afford it and i might very well embarassed myself for being so different with my schoolmates just because he knew i wanted it. he knew i wanted things beyond my reach. he knew i wanted to give everything a try. he knew i wasnt afraid of failure. he just knew. and he always let me do it, assissting me along the way, letting me know that if i said i couldnt make it any further then i didnt have to. because he knew, he always knew, as much as i wanted to do everything my way i never had any plans to embarass him, or to cause him trouble, or to slave myself to death just to get to my obesessions.

 

bapak used to cook a lot. his favourite were this seafood fried rice and that boiled fish with hazelnut sauce. tell you what, they were fabulous. nobody can make it the way he did. seafood was quite pricey for us so he only made it on very special occasions: when he felt like it. yes, thats the way he was. special occassions were the times when he felt like it. nothing more, nothing less. money was just something he could work for later. special occassions would not be there forever. as weird as it sounds, i am happy that it was the way he was. things got harder when his business went down and much harder later. but this man of ours never run out of reasons to celebrate a day.

 

boiled fish used to be very cheap, and easy to cook. more and more often later, that would be our menu. we the children are used to grumble. WHAT, MORE BOILED FISH TODAY? and he would prepare something else the next day. i dont know if it hurt him. maybe not. not so many things hurt his feeling, i think, as long as we continued being the obedient and nice kids we used to be. well, my brothers and sister got into trouble every now and then, but nothing big. just things kids do. oh okay, it got worsen when they got into teenage phase, but still we were relatively nice kids. you know, doing quite well in school, managed to graduate no matter what, didnt terrorize our parents just to get things we want because other kids did, didnt drink, didnt smoke, didnt get into drugs, didnt get pregnant before getting married, went to church every sunday. oh okay, the list goes on and on.

 

now, what did i try to say again? oh, that boiled fish with hazelnut sauce. i miss it too. i wonder if he misses having it too with us, his wife and children. that old good time. but they say we are now in different worlds, so he may not have this feeling of missing something. 

 

it has been three years now. i wonder if he knows that we did manage to get through without him. i wonder if he knows how we cling into each other more to ease the pain of losing him, how we care about each other more because there is no more of a man who will fix everything, how we pray for each other more because there is no such a hero who will pray for everything anymore. i wonder if he knows that after three years i still wish he was here, comfort me in my hopelessness, my broken-heartedness. we did it without you for three hard years, bapak dear, but we would have preferred having you around.  

A New Fav (to My Ears, at Least)

Never been a fan of Rihanna, actually. but this one caught my attention after being no. 1 of top list track on Spotify for weeks already. Got a glimpse of the video and totally hate it. So I will just stick with Spotify.

 

We Found Love - Rihanna

 

yellow diamonds in the light

and we're standing side by side

as your shadow crosses mine

what it takes to come alive

 

it's the way i'm feeling i just can't deny

but i've gotta let it go

 

we found love in a hopeless place

we found love in a hopeless place

we found love in a hopeless place

we found love in a hopeless place

 

shine a light through an open door

love and life i will divide

turn away cause i need you more

feel the heartbeat in my mind

 

it's the way i'm feeling i just can't deny

but i've gotta let it go

 

we found love in a hopeless place

we found love in a hopeless place

we found love in a hopeless place

we found love in a hopeless place

 

 

A Search

There are times when I searched into my mind and find nothing there. Like today. I searched high and low, on the part that I use to work on my dissertation, on the part I use to develop adequate relationships with people, on the part I use to force myself to stop wanting things I cannot have, on the part I use to keep myself moving on when I'm in automatic pilot mode. Nothing was there. It's empty, it's so empty, it's dauntingly empty.

 

So I clasped my hands, closed my eyes, and talked to my God. And I found him there, with open hands waiting for me to come back, my God, my king, my best friend, my father, my lover, my all.

 

I searched my mind high and low. I still find it empty. But at least I'm in the loving hands of the one who never fails me.