One of The Brightest Stars

(Source: Genius)

I had never posted any posts related to songs in WordPress until now; I wrote it because this song touched me to the personal level. The song was introduced to me by a friend, Dino, and I thank him so much. I won’t interpret the song by words, but by how it means to me.

It’s better to listen to the song first. You’re gonna like it. ūüėČ

One day your story will be told.
One of the lucky ones who’s made his name.
One day they’ll make you glorious,
Beneath the lights of your deserved fame.

This lyrics give me hope. Yesterday, I read that there is 3-step process to create your reality. I’m on Step 2, and listening this fuels my spirit. I picture that in 5 years, I will help coffee farmers to process their coffee so the beans will have the highest quality. Their life will be better, and we’ll all be happy together.

Anyway, I won’t hide the fact that I want to do something good at last because I want to feel good, be good, and look good while I’m doing it. I also want to prove myself and other people that I can do¬†one thing properly and do it until the end. If you think that it’s not good to have your personal reasons, nah, it’s totally fine. You don’t have to share it to anyone if you’re uncomfortable, but at least be honest to yourself. Acknowledge it, and let it empower you when you feel like you want to give up.

After all, I (and you too) will be blinded by the lights of our deserved fame some time soon.

And it all comes round.
Once in a lifetime like it always does.
Everybody loves you ’cause you’ve taken a chance,
Out on a dance to the moon, too soon.
And they’ll say: told you so.
We were the ones who saw you first of all.
We always knew that you were one of the brightest stars.

A chance¬†will come¬†only once in my¬†life, and everyone will love me because I’ve taken the chance as soon as it appears. They pretty much will tell that they’ve always known that I deserve all of the good things that happens to me. People always like to be close to someone who is kind, has a good reputation, and is successful in life. That’s why they’ll say, “Told you so.” They think they knew it since the first time they saw me struggle. Some of them are true, but only God knows¬†about the others.

One day they’ll tell you that you’ve changed,
Though they’re the ones who seem to stop and stare.
One day you’ll hope to make the grave,
Before the papers choose to send you there.

People won’t notice me¬†until I¬†give impacts to them, either directly or indirectly. For the third and fourth line, I don’t believe that “one day I¬†probably choose to die instead of let the fate send me¬†to the grave”. For me¬†the meaning is I’ll live this world as fully as possible before I die.

And it all comes round.
Once in a lifetime like it always does.
Nobody loves you ’cause you’ve taken a chance,
Out on a dance to the moon, too soon.
And they’ll say: told you so.
We were the ones who saw you first of all.
We always knew that you were one of the brightest stars.

(Source: azlyrics)

In some cases, people might hate me because I’m taking a chance towards my dreams. Some people won’t like seeing me succeed for some reasons, even though in the end they probably will embrace me as a friend again when I’ve reached my goals.

Either way, I still will be one of the brightest stars.

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Home, Sweet and Lovely Home

I sit by myself in the living room, in front of my laptop. Easy-listening music is played softly on the background. The clock ticks slowly, as if it feels too lazy to move its second. Some trees out there are dancing very, very slowly. Apparently the wind is also too lazy to move. It is sunny outside; couch potatoes like me would rather stay at home and get fat relax.

I’m going to write about this house, which now has become my home for several months. I write for myself; I know I’m gonna miss it someday when I hit the road or when I come back to my old house.

My home is located on a border area between Bandung and Cimahi. My parents decided to rent this house because it’s closer to their office and to their children’s schools, and is affordable. I remember my first impression of the house: felt¬†like it was¬†so far away from the city. The road was rocky and it was¬†deadly quiet because the house is located at the end of the road–no one passes by. The inside of house looked weird as well; I couldn’t understand what was on the architecture’s mind when he designed the house–if there was any architecture at all. On those early days, my parents often visited the house to clean and renovate it.

After the renovation was finished and the furnitures were all placed, I don’t think I can leave this house. Ever.

Why do I feel so attached to this house?

This house and its environment give positive energy to me: it has lots of windows, so I don’t need to turn on any lights during the day except for bathrooms. I like to hangout with my family in the living room; laughing, telling stories, eating, or just being immersed on our own gadgets. It’s just… it feels good¬†to live here. The neighbours are also nice; I remember their faces because I sometimes jog in the morning. Every morning I can see kids going to kindergarten, naive and full of curiosity. Every afternoon they will play soccer on the field and the girls will cheer at them. Some dads are also active; I’ve seen them countless times playing tennis (yes, we have a tennis court as well). It’s very lively. I like it here.

The house also has stories of travellers who came by and stayed for awhile. They are from Indonesia, Canada, France, Philippines, Taiwan, Germany, and still counting. We shared stories, inspired each other, and often they would cook me¬†food from their countries even though I didn’t ask. They became my new friends even though we only met for a short time. Some people would be too worried or anxious to let someone they don’t know to stay in their house, but not me. I guess I will always naively think that people are kind (even though I got hurt several times for being too trustful) and they all have interesting stories to share. I still believe in humanity. This house is the witness of kindness and love one can give to other human being.

In a peaceful morning, I exercise or meditate on my backyard, which is big enough to play badminton. Being surrounded by nature, with only the sound of breeze passing through the trees and of birds chirping, would do good for one’s¬†mind and heart. Often I would just lay on the mattress, close my eyes, and feel the life in me and my surrounding. It’s calming. What a wonderful¬†feeling.

I love living here. ūüôā

I’ll Write Some More :)

Positivity Now

I was surprised when I checked my email this morning and found an invitation to become an author on Positivity Now, a blog about individual’s every aspect of life. School, work, relationship, mental health… you name it. It’s all about wellness-being, something that has always been piqued my interest. To be invited on such blog warms my heart, and it inspires me to write some more, the way I used to several years ago. (Visit¬†bayart.org if you’re curious or interested.)

I couldn’t resist to smile reading this line on¬†the introduction post: “This is not an elite space, reserved for experts, thought leaders, or professional bloggers. This is a blog for real people who are willing to share themselves honestly and vulnerably.”¬†Vulnerably.

There are lots of drafts on my blog; I only managed to finish writing some of them. That’s why there aren’t many posts on my blog. Why? Simply because I felt so¬†teared up writing about my insecurities and my past failures. Probably I should write something else, something easier, but no. I want to get those out of my head; I want to free myself and accept myself for what I was and am now. It doesn’t mean that I haven’t forgiven myself; I have, but writing those experiences in clear words for the world to see is a different thing. I will do it though, sooner or later.

Writing has always been my thing since I was a kid, and it will always be.

 

Immersed

She was so immersed in her thoughts.

However, every now and then, she glanced to her right. Someone sat beside her; he had a tall posture, black hair, and almond-shaped eyes. Sometimes he started a conversation with her; sometimes it was her turn to do it first. If they didn’t talk with each other, they would play with their phones or just stare blankly at their surrounding, probably thinking what to talk next.

Once or twice she felt his eyes on her, but she acted like she didn’t know it. She kept her head down, fiddling with her pen. She didn’t want to look like she¬†was interested.

On the rare occasion when they actually talked with each other, she couldn’t resist the urge to¬†look into his dark eyes and his small lips accordingly. His eyes narrowed when he laughed, showing his white teeth. Sometimes he stuck his tongue or even bit his lower lip.

His lip-biting was her weakness. Every time he did that, she couldn’t help but imagining how soft his lips would be like. It was hard for her to not think about being pinned against the wall and kissed by him softly yet passionately at the same time. She had always been curious about how soft his hair would feel like when she raked her hands on his hair. Everything about him made her feel stupid and she wanted to learn more about the subject of him. How come her lecturer never taught her that?

She was so immersed in her thoughts.