my ‘socialite wannabe’ friend told me yesterday that balenciaga bag would not fit me. the bag is too grand for me, for my personality.
and I said to myself,” right back at you,dude!” sapa ya situ?
C’mon! I would never dream to have one, but isn’t cruel to say such thing?
then he suggested me to just buy the classic long champs, and I say,” please,dude! that’s not even a bag, it’s a carrier. I’ve been to Paris, Amsterdam and London, and I know what I am saying.”
*apa maksud posting ini?
it has been over a month now since I went home on December. The first few weeks was actually horrible, I was tortured with guilty and disappointment. I am not completely over that, nor can I say that I will ever be in future. It might still haunt me for years to come. But life moves on and I decided to just live on. Like everybody does.
The question now is whether it was a life changing experience. Well, people says you learn from your mistakes and I can assure myself that it is an absolute truth. I should say now that I learn from my failure. But for the rest of the stuffs, it was not so much.
For me personally, when I arrived in amsterdam for the first time I don’t feel like jumping on and off with excitement. and that goes on during my days there. same happened when I arrived back home. just normal life as usual. I am so numb, damn!
why the lazy and stupid person like me has to deal with grad school again and again? *sigh!
a friend in Italy just sent me his final defense pic, big congratz for him. I envy him. 3 years in Italy is not an easy job, well at least in my own assumption. being one of the only two indonesian in town is beyond my imagination. If I were to put myself in his shoes, i think I would have given up from day one. the city was beautiful, but being alone may be unbearable to me. Still clear to me how the city gave me a cold lonely impression. although the coffee is cheap and superb, the pasta is delicious, the view was just amazing, the city is always magnificent, but the cold and very small apartment, the old university building and people talks in different language beat all the good things.
But I do miss being in europe, when I can have a time for myself.
just read it from someone’s blog….part of learning is to accept your failure and move on. A nice word to read but not very easy in reality. it could haunt your every nights and days like a ghost sucking up your joy and any reasons of being.
just read a blog from someone I know, a young fellow. a very positive thankful blog. 23 years old and contented. I don’t remember being 23 and contented, more like 23 and confuse. why do I always confuse my whole life? oh shoot!
I still can’t sleep bcos of that shitty spv, wish I can say right on his face just fuck off,sir! just fuck off!
someday you might have to take back all your words. a racist bastard! oh damn! feels good to do it!
I tried so hard to be mature and not curse.did not work!
I don’t know how to deal with this. I never thought that I would go to this length. just too much for me.
on the last morning before heading to the airport, I took a last glance to the unit. whisper a silent good bye. everybody was still sleeping, only Paulina awake for her routine study. I will miss the unit, for sure. For the people I knew during 1,5 years of my stay. For the laugh and gossip we share together. I closed one chapter of my life, I knew that’s an end for myself. It had been difficult last few weeks in the unit, mostly bcos of my thesis. Sometimes I just sit on my chair holding a cup of tea and looked outside the window, telling myself that tomorrow will not be the same and I should prepare myself. On the day when the weather is horrible with howling wind and constant rain, I feel safe and alone. Rarely does the horrible weather make me think of warm weather back home. maybe I was too busy. On the way to the departure gate, I think of Bob and try to find words to tell him how grateful I am to have him across the hall. sometime I couldn’t catch up with words he said, or even to understand. But our chat in front of the house is always good times. Good friends, over a cigarette. I sent the message right before boarding and received his reply soon after that. my final good bye, also a good bye to my single life. that night at my seat, I couldn’t stop my tears for hours. I feel very sad, very disappoint about myself. But can not point out one clear reason why, maybe it’s a mix of all the things I had tried to accept without letting myself to get effected too much. at most cases, it was to accept and move on. at that time, being alone I finally able to digest all those one by one. the last words my spv had told me the day before, my last cigarette with Bob and Paulina, my silent goodbyes.
Tuhan, jika nanti suamiku cukup Kau beri rejeki, dan Kau mampukan aku untuk bisa terus bekerja, jauhkan aku dari godaan tas-tas bermek, sepatu-sepatu berharga selangit dan baju-baju tidak perlu. Aku mohon ya Tuhan
my confidence hits rock bottom. Gone to the very last drop