Twenty years on..

Suddenly, I feel so old.

Today, my eldest niece is being graduated from the university. She's about to be 21 years old now. Younger than her peers, because she started her primary school when she's 5 years old.
Her mother was graduated, I think, about 19 or 20 years ago. And I was there, with Mom. Where did I come from? I think from Malang, because Mom was there in Jakarta.

And.. here's another graduation. Twenty years on..

Procrastination

Look, why do I always avoid to write my draft? Tell me about it? What is your problem? Is it just because your brain can't think? Or your mind can't concentrate? If your mind can't concentrate, why? Is it just because you fail to put your concentration in one centre, or you try to avoid problems (which brings more problems indeed)?

1. Sudah buka Word document dan Endnote library
2. Sudah menuju paragraf terakhir
3. Sadar bahwa terakhir berhenti karena stuck dan merasa bodoh.

By not start even with a word, the habit just isn't there. The habit to write, to be productive. Instead, you are just buying your time, waiting for the next deadline and crisis to come, and you are hurry like beasts in the forest fire.

Beautiful morning then tea spilling

This morning is one of the most beautiful mornings I have ever experienced in Melbourne. It is in contrast with the previous day where I saw only dark clouds and dark grey skies. It is as if the skies lose their clouds as they were swept fully by heavy rain last night.

Yesterday was one of the worst days, the opening of winter season. Rain almost all day, dark sky and it was wintry cold. I thought it was snowy too because the snowflakes like shower yesterday, falling lightly light flakes pouring from the sky and caught in the barren trees branches, pretty awesome and beautiful, as almost heavenly I could not stand to share it with someone, no matter how strange it was sounded.

And this morning yes, I came at 10.30 something, bought some fruits in the cheap food store at the tram stop, and got some hot water at the kitchen when I meat J. She looks great and we exchange words for sometimes, oh well, the classic weather small talks, but it was nice always to see some familiar faces around the office, isn't it? Then I made my tea, jasmine tea from Indonesia, Tong Tji I think, a cheap brand back there, but so far inconquered in aroma even from the expensive tea that I see at the super market shelves in here. As someone says sometime ago, we are born and raised with low quality tea, so our taste is pretty different with those that are more familiar with the higher quality tea. 

But the sky, yes, the sky is remarkably blue this morning. So I took out the room frehener that I bought this morning and hooked it near the opened window. It supposed to be .... then I spilled my cup of tea into my laptop. And, so that was the end of my beautiful day.

Bacatidaktulis

Two weeks ago I have that fire and passion to write, and then I started read again, and I was lost again, kinda lost all my apettite to write because of too much information that I should digest. Overwhelming. Stuck.

The old man is gone

For all doors that are closed for us, see it from different mindset. There might be other door opens on other time, other space. I keep wondering why God seems to always use whoever gives sermon in this church, every Sunday that I have a problem, the right, striking a chord type of sermon that seems unbelievably like God Himself is talking to me. I guess, what they say as a 'living Words', or 'living Scripture' does exist. I feel it powerful, like God uses the preacher to reach out to me, to encourage me of whatever difficulty and dilemma that I am facing at exactly the same day. Today, the theme is 'The old man is gone'. I felt suffocated to read the title on the powerpoint slide. I repeated it in my heart word by word: the. old. man. is. gone. And yes, yesterday, the -man is gone. After came and introduced himself few days earlier, he's gone. Like, ghosting, after did that one call. Ah-ma-zing. 

Since last night, I struggled with my self confidence. How come, after one call, someone decided that, no, she's not good? This hurts me so much. I feel like stupid, and think I lose some confidence. And maybe, these people, are simply consumed by their own perception. But should I the one who feels bad about it? No, it's them who should feel bad about themselves. I live, I will remain. Ephesian 4: 18-24. This passage is read today and makes me think maybe, just maybe, I am not from this world, I am not for mutual exclusive kind of relationship. I am not built for that. I am not wired for that thing. I keep trying, they say, but keep failing. Just because I am honest, nobody likes me. Is it then, my problem, or theirs? If my personality is not compatible with these people, why should I bother? I can't change who I am to be what they like. I just can't. I find it hard to explain myself. And my life. And my way of life. And my faith. And, the way I live. If one feels they are iritated by myself, then they are not worth it. I think, it's my ego that was hurt. Yes, battle symphony.

You were taught, with regard to your former way of life, to put off your old self, which is being corrupted by its deceitful desires; ²³ to be made new in the attitude of your minds; ²⁴ and to put on the new self, created to be like God in true righteousness and holiness.

Sundays in my childhood memory

A classic sunny Sunday morning, with family and/or friends, going to church in the morning, and after that eating out or cook together at home, with conversations that seem endless. Not a quiet one, a rather wild one, with kids running around or trying to help (but ended up ruining things instead). That is the kind of Sunday morning that I recall from my childhood. My dad will turn the music player on (and loud, since he had a big pair of standing speakers, taller than us!), with Christian songs during normal days, or Christmas carols (!) in Decembers. That is my definition of normal. That's why, with that kind of upbringing, my memories are filled with those songs, and Bible verses that I read because I did not have many books to read back then, and the only access was to the Bible - the only book that was available all the time, and had always been read every Sunday or every occasion like neighborhood worship evening. That's why, again, every time I hear the old Christian songs or hymns, my mind can't help but wandering around and remember both of them, Mom and Dad, who are peacefully rest in eternity now (Earth time - the chronos). Songs, music, they can retrieve old memory from brain cells and bring it up to present time. I think.

A sunny Sunday in the midst of winter days

Yesterday was a too beautiful day to be wasted at home. But the reality was, I scrolled down both layers of my window blind curtain down at the bottom, almost touched the floor level the night before because I thought i could retain the heat from the heater (the expensive one!) that way, and lost like a quarter of that beautiful day because I slept until 9.30 or nearly until 10 in the morning. When I woke up, it was a bit cloudy, I opened my phone and my friend texted me asking what would I do today because the day is beautiful. I was like, err, I just woke up, honestly. And it's a bit cloudy outside (a sort of justification of me not being outside at the moment. I instead, prepared my brekkie, ate and back to my electric blanket, to try get some inspirations for my draft. I have been like playing with a rubric trivia since last month, because I kept organising and re-organising the structure of my draft until I confused myself of what I have been looking for all this time.  I stucked, and then I stood and stared from my window. Hindered by the newly unfinished constructed apartment tower across my room, I still could see the sky a little beet, peeking from the northwestern side of my window. Blue. Like clear blue, crystal clear.  Then I hated myself of not doing anything. So I woke up, dyed my hair in cold water, dried with hairdryer (sorry for my housemate who pays the bills, this Oz hairdryer is a bit fantastically unbelievable in terms of electricity consumption: 2K wattage! but I had no choice when buying it, nothing at any shops that I visited, that is under 2K wattage, what can I do?). Then, I felt bit warm, indeed the sunshine felt from my room a bit. So I decided, "I am going out". Highly determined, I reached unto the top drawer of my built-in-robe where my Rio de Janeiro summer thong is stored, well, using chair to assist me reaching it, I am just 5ft tall. So that was quite an effort. I wore a short sleeves black t-shirt I purchased from Cold Play concert in Melb eight years ago, and a thin cotton short pants that I haven't been worn for ages (well, at least since last February when the weather were 'normal' in my tropical perspective of normality). And I bravely waked outside the apartment, to chase the sunshine outdoor, so brave I could almost hear the anthem We are the champion or the sort of victorious songs :-). I must have a reason though, so I thought, buying some basic groceries will be great. I thought of milk and bread, but then I recalled that I have bread remain on the fridge, so only milk, and since I have no more fruits, maybe an apple or two. Two granny smith apples and a carton of calci-plus soy milk from a brand I like. After paying, I saw that there are two or three benches outside the supermarket that I could use to sit. So there I am, sitting down alone with a pair of thong, short sleeves t-shirt and a thin jacket, with short pants, eating a green apple as my lunch. I looked at the public housing across my bench. Some people came in and out with cars or walking. Next to my bench, a guy with glaring orange vest was sitting down too. I wasn't sure whether he was eating or just being sleepy and looking for sunshine just like me. Then I looked again and I read his back vest, is written: Big Issue. Oh. So he was finishing his job, delivering and selling Big Issue, must be in the city center somehow. At 3 pm or 4 pm, he finished. After that, I looked him walking across the street, and getting into the public housing. So he lives there. And in the street and in the parking lot, many good, luxurious cars are parked and run. Also, many people lives in my apartment complex, who afford to pay nearly 2K per month for rent. I wonder how much they pay for public housing, perhaps half or less than that, subsidising by the government. But I still feel like the inequality is bit worse, because poverty at destitution level, as literature says, had long been erased in the developed world like this, unlike in the developing countries where it is rampant and pervasive. You can see and feel it everywhere, often, you're part of it always, so you think it is normal. And I, suddenly, feel so sad. Because I live in a nice apartment and he lives there in that dodgy-look public housing, even though we may have same level of income, just perhaps. This feeling, this same guilty feeling I felt when I was small, and looked at my friends who lived in the orphanage nearby my kindergarten, and looked at myself with pretty warm and nice house. Or when I looked at my neighbor who didn't have enough food to eat they had to share bits of fruits and nice food to eight or ten people, while we sometime had to throw bananas because we fed up with bananas everyday (I seldom saw bananas at their dining table, so I one day smuggled a box of banana - to avoid being rejected as I knew they had that pride - to their back kitchen door, and they suspected those stuff too mysterious to take or eat -they thought it's black magic voodoo or poisonous so they threw it). That same guilty feeling because I am richer than they are. I don't know why I was born this way, maybe I am somehow born to be leftist who are guilty of material possessions (later in life I have savings though), but perhaps it is simply the Bible verses that I read earlier in my childhood and that I memorising it in my brain, they are stick there. The verses about Lasarus the beggar and the rich person. And the verses about those who help the poor in the world that God admitted to heaven after they died. Maybe.