Once upon the time, there was a little girl. Every night she sat by her window and stared longingly at the moon. In her eyes it was the brightest object out in the night sky, and there was a reason for it. She believed that the moon was only radiant to whoever’s in love with it, since people who didn’t mind much of its existence would find it dull compared to the flirty stars. Thus, her being in love with the moon made its extravagance a thousand times more charming and unbeatable, and she found herself becoming more and more adrift in its beauty every passing day.
But always came the time when the moon disappeared and its throne got taken over by the sun. She found that situation strongly unacceptable, because then she had to wait for half a whole day to be able to see the moon again. Her excuse was simple: When you’re in love, a minute waiting feels like a thousand years dying. She began to think of a way to never let go of the moon.
She came up with a brilliant solution: She had to, just had to, unite with it. If they were together, nothing would tear them apart, not even the rotation of the earth or the cycle of the universe. There won’t be sun to interfere. There won’t even be days and night, because the moon would hold no other existence except of hers, and nothing else really mattered.
Hence, she tried everything. She sneaked into a NASA rocket satellite, she tried heaving the moon closer using a powerful magnetic source, she hired architects to build a tunnel to the surface of the moon, she went to an old wizard deep in the swamp and begged for him to magically transport her there, she jumped on a giant-sized trampoline and wished that she’d leap straight to the moon. Yet her efforts were fruitless, and at the end she was left with a handful of hopeless thoughts.
She was so desperate to get to the moon that one night something so indescribably wonderful happened. The moon suddenly waltzed off from its place up in the night sky, and towards the earth! It came further lower and lower, until she could be completely sure that it was approaching her. The wind was cold and ruthless, yet her heart warmed up like a bowl of soup in a saucepan and her eyes lit up like candles during an electricity blackout. And the moon was still gracefully moving closer toward her window.
At last they were face to face, apart only by her window frame.
“Would you like to come with me?” Asked the moon.
She held her breath in and whispered, “Yes.”
She began to climb out of her window. A vile thought suddenly flashed through her airy mind and she couldn’t help but to ask loudly, “Wait, this isn’t a dream is it?”
“Of course not, Sweetheart,” Smiled the moon.
She was ensured. She put one delighted step on the moon.
And that was exactly right when she woke up from her nap.
Sunday, May 16, 2010
Thursday, May 13, 2010
The Girl Who Had A Hole In Her Chest Where Her Spongy Heart Used To Be.
Once upon a time, there was a little girl. She had the unimaginable disease of a Sponge Heart; which is the ability to absorb every little thing seriously and be emotionally attached to them. When such thing was diagnosed, the doctor resigned from the case out of shock and desperation to find the cure. Her parents travelled across the globe and went from one internationally acclaimed doctor to another, yet their efforts were fruitless.
After much discussion and recalculation, her parents decided to let her be. They could only hope that instead of being a fatal flaw, that heart condition of hers could give her benefits such as the beauty of consideration, compassion, gentleness, and care toward others in order to promote world peace and reduce poverty and famine.
As she grew up, things were looking remarkably good, even for herself. Because she took everything seriously, that made her a thinker, a hard worker, a helping saint to any misfortune that befalls the human race. And because she was emotionally attached to every little thing, that made her affectionate, full of sympathy and understanding, an angel to the eyes of the loathed, a divine example of sheer benevolence.
Until came the day her heart gets broken by a boy. The feeling was completely new to her, for she had never felt such pain. It was exactly like somebody had just tore open her ribs, yank her spongy heart out, and plunge it into a pit of ice cold water filled with poisonous venom. It was prickly, stabbing, agonizing, yet also numbing. Her sponge heart kept on absorbing and digesting the pain; she couldn’t get over it.
Because she took everything seriously, to her it was the end of the world. She had never felt so ugly and unwanted before, and in her eyes everything was beginning to crumble down into debris. And because she was too emotionally attached to such matter, she couldn’t help but to replay thousands of remorseful questions in her head; what exactly went wrong, how did I let this happen, how did he let this happen, how long is this going to last, why oh why the cruelty?
Overtime, as she kept falling down the bottomless well of despair, her sadness turned into anger. She was angry at such misfortune that had caused her inability to crawl back into space in the first place: her heart condition. She began to wonder, what if she was born with a normal heart designed to easily forgive and forget. What if she had a simple, solid heart with limited capacity and also an out vessel to exit some unwanted feelings? Things would’ve been easier that way.
Therefore, she decided to cut her heart out. One night, she sneaked into the operation room of a hospital, grabbed some knives, scissors, tweezers, and whatnot. She sliced open her chest, carefully cutting off the blood vessels and muscles that connected her heart to her body. And very slowly but steadily, she removed her heart, put it on the table, and stared at it for a long time. It really was spongy. It was weird. She felt much happier not having it inside her.
From then on, she had a hole in her chest where her spongy heart used to be.
After much discussion and recalculation, her parents decided to let her be. They could only hope that instead of being a fatal flaw, that heart condition of hers could give her benefits such as the beauty of consideration, compassion, gentleness, and care toward others in order to promote world peace and reduce poverty and famine.
As she grew up, things were looking remarkably good, even for herself. Because she took everything seriously, that made her a thinker, a hard worker, a helping saint to any misfortune that befalls the human race. And because she was emotionally attached to every little thing, that made her affectionate, full of sympathy and understanding, an angel to the eyes of the loathed, a divine example of sheer benevolence.
Until came the day her heart gets broken by a boy. The feeling was completely new to her, for she had never felt such pain. It was exactly like somebody had just tore open her ribs, yank her spongy heart out, and plunge it into a pit of ice cold water filled with poisonous venom. It was prickly, stabbing, agonizing, yet also numbing. Her sponge heart kept on absorbing and digesting the pain; she couldn’t get over it.
Because she took everything seriously, to her it was the end of the world. She had never felt so ugly and unwanted before, and in her eyes everything was beginning to crumble down into debris. And because she was too emotionally attached to such matter, she couldn’t help but to replay thousands of remorseful questions in her head; what exactly went wrong, how did I let this happen, how did he let this happen, how long is this going to last, why oh why the cruelty?
Overtime, as she kept falling down the bottomless well of despair, her sadness turned into anger. She was angry at such misfortune that had caused her inability to crawl back into space in the first place: her heart condition. She began to wonder, what if she was born with a normal heart designed to easily forgive and forget. What if she had a simple, solid heart with limited capacity and also an out vessel to exit some unwanted feelings? Things would’ve been easier that way.
Therefore, she decided to cut her heart out. One night, she sneaked into the operation room of a hospital, grabbed some knives, scissors, tweezers, and whatnot. She sliced open her chest, carefully cutting off the blood vessels and muscles that connected her heart to her body. And very slowly but steadily, she removed her heart, put it on the table, and stared at it for a long time. It really was spongy. It was weird. She felt much happier not having it inside her.
From then on, she had a hole in her chest where her spongy heart used to be.
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Happiness.
I got accepted into 2 of the 3 universities i applied in. As of the 3rd one, which is University of Indonesia (the number 1 uni in this country), the entrance result hasn't came up yet. As odd as it seems, I so truly hope I don't get in. I have my own reasons, one of them being it is located in Jakarta. One more year living in this goddamn city and under the same goddamn roof as my parents and I'll go nuts.
Anyways, the 2 universities are:
Bandung Institute of Technology, faculty of Geo Engineering. I failed in getting into architecture. But who cares, this uni's still on the top 3 and ranks number 1 for all its technological studies in Indonesia.
University of Padjadjaran, faculty of Psychology. I took Science Studies in highschool, and most unis in Indonesia categorize Psychology as a Social Study. Therefore, unless I took extra study hours to master Social Studies, I wouldn't be able to get into Psychology major. This uni here is one of the very few unis that mostly accept students of Science Studies in its Faculty of Psychology, because the subjects rely more on the brain pattern of those who study Science in highschool. Plus, this uni's still on the top 10, I think.
I don't mean to boast, but toldja I was gonna be glorious ;)
Anyways, the 2 universities are:
Bandung Institute of Technology, faculty of Geo Engineering. I failed in getting into architecture. But who cares, this uni's still on the top 3 and ranks number 1 for all its technological studies in Indonesia.
University of Padjadjaran, faculty of Psychology. I took Science Studies in highschool, and most unis in Indonesia categorize Psychology as a Social Study. Therefore, unless I took extra study hours to master Social Studies, I wouldn't be able to get into Psychology major. This uni here is one of the very few unis that mostly accept students of Science Studies in its Faculty of Psychology, because the subjects rely more on the brain pattern of those who study Science in highschool. Plus, this uni's still on the top 10, I think.I don't mean to boast, but toldja I was gonna be glorious ;)
Saturday, May 1, 2010
Dear Asshole,
It’s almost midnight and here I am, lying wide awake on my bed, thinking what exactly went wrong. I ponder on several obvious questions: Haven’t my gestures been obvious enough to make you realize how I really feel about you? Are you just too naïve that you’re not able to read my signs? Or maybe you did read them, but you refuse to give back because you’re simply not attracted? How do you honestly feel about me?
I’ve never been one of an expert to read signals, and yours aren’t exactly the easy type to understand. Your gestures are vague, subtle, yet also unpredictable and highly indecipherable. It feels like I have to screw my hopeless brain around to break down everything you did and said to finally reach the end conclusion of your inmost feeling which is hidden deep beneath.
I recount every little sweet gesture that had happened in the past: The gentle stroke on my hair, the little squeeze on my fingers, the random message asking me how I am, the midnight chats filled with pretty words and enthusiasm to be in each other’s company… Those were the things that constantly gave me hopes. Those were the things that made me believe our feelings are mutual, everything but a one way street or a dead end, accepted and positively responded.
Then I recount every little unpleasant gesture: The way you always spelled my name wrong, the other short midnight chats where it seemed like you didn’t even feel like talking… Suddenly all lingering hopes are crushed into bits and pieces. The lights I’ve taken refuge in before are dimmed. The fulfilling warmth is replaced by a bitter cold, like the changing of a softly beaming dusk into a dead silence of the night.
You keep repeating those conflicting signals. After a while I begin to see a pattern: Once you get my hopes up, you’ll manage to succeed in getting them down again, and so on. You’ve trapped me into a vicious circle of never-ending uncertainties. I may know your pattern by now, but I still can’t predict what kind of message is it exactly you’re trying to send out.
The worst thing is now I don’t even know what to do. I’m not sure whether I should keep going forward, because I’m scared that you’ve never felt the same way in the first place. But I’m also unwilling to give up just yet, afraid that I might be wasting something very valuable yet sill unseen, which is the possibility of a returned feeling.
If only you’d speak it out. I need a certainty, an assurance, no more than several words. The road is only diverged into two; either “I’m into you as well” or “I’m simply not into you.”
It’s already midnight and here I am, lying wide awake on my bed, aching from how much I miss you. Aching from the fact that I haven’t got you quite figured out yet, furthermore from the fact that I probably never will.
Aching from the mere possibility of a broken-heart.
I’ve never been one of an expert to read signals, and yours aren’t exactly the easy type to understand. Your gestures are vague, subtle, yet also unpredictable and highly indecipherable. It feels like I have to screw my hopeless brain around to break down everything you did and said to finally reach the end conclusion of your inmost feeling which is hidden deep beneath.
I recount every little sweet gesture that had happened in the past: The gentle stroke on my hair, the little squeeze on my fingers, the random message asking me how I am, the midnight chats filled with pretty words and enthusiasm to be in each other’s company… Those were the things that constantly gave me hopes. Those were the things that made me believe our feelings are mutual, everything but a one way street or a dead end, accepted and positively responded.
Then I recount every little unpleasant gesture: The way you always spelled my name wrong, the other short midnight chats where it seemed like you didn’t even feel like talking… Suddenly all lingering hopes are crushed into bits and pieces. The lights I’ve taken refuge in before are dimmed. The fulfilling warmth is replaced by a bitter cold, like the changing of a softly beaming dusk into a dead silence of the night.
You keep repeating those conflicting signals. After a while I begin to see a pattern: Once you get my hopes up, you’ll manage to succeed in getting them down again, and so on. You’ve trapped me into a vicious circle of never-ending uncertainties. I may know your pattern by now, but I still can’t predict what kind of message is it exactly you’re trying to send out.
The worst thing is now I don’t even know what to do. I’m not sure whether I should keep going forward, because I’m scared that you’ve never felt the same way in the first place. But I’m also unwilling to give up just yet, afraid that I might be wasting something very valuable yet sill unseen, which is the possibility of a returned feeling.
If only you’d speak it out. I need a certainty, an assurance, no more than several words. The road is only diverged into two; either “I’m into you as well” or “I’m simply not into you.”
It’s already midnight and here I am, lying wide awake on my bed, aching from how much I miss you. Aching from the fact that I haven’t got you quite figured out yet, furthermore from the fact that I probably never will.
Aching from the mere possibility of a broken-heart.
Sunday, April 18, 2010
I hate you with all my life.
Dear the one single person I hate the most in the whole wide world,
The day you die, I’m going to scream HALELUYA with tears of joy and unrestrained delights. I won’t even be there at your funeral; I’d be too busy having fun in my new-found life without you fucking with it. I won’t even say a word of prayer. Well, except for that HALELUYA I mentioned above, although not directed to you, but as a sign of MY victory. And from that day on, as your deceased body rot into the earth, every single memory of you will also be erased from my mind, because I don’t want traces of your unwanted existence lingering about my brain. And then I will descend into a long life full of ease, freedom, and happiness, simply because you’re no longer a part of it.
With dignified regards,
Your ultimate hater
The day you die, I’m going to scream HALELUYA with tears of joy and unrestrained delights. I won’t even be there at your funeral; I’d be too busy having fun in my new-found life without you fucking with it. I won’t even say a word of prayer. Well, except for that HALELUYA I mentioned above, although not directed to you, but as a sign of MY victory. And from that day on, as your deceased body rot into the earth, every single memory of you will also be erased from my mind, because I don’t want traces of your unwanted existence lingering about my brain. And then I will descend into a long life full of ease, freedom, and happiness, simply because you’re no longer a part of it.
With dignified regards,
Your ultimate hater
The most stupidest conversation ever.
- B - Just hit play and watch my life fall apart.r u satisfied? says:
fuck man i feel so sorry for bella
adilla caulfield says:
why whats up
- B - Just hit play and watch my life fall apart.r u satisfied? says:
i talked to bella at rick's party
and she was like sad
adilla caulfield says:
sad abt emilio?
dw man she got edward and jacob
lmao
- B - Just hit play and watch my life fall apart.r u satisfied? says:
yeh sad abt emilio
LMFAO wtf
adilla caulfield says:
omg dont tell me u did not get the joke
- B - Just hit play and watch my life fall apart.r u satisfied? says:
i didnt.
adilla caulfield says:
WTFFFF
- B - Just hit play and watch my life fall apart.r u satisfied? says:
is that sumthin to do with twilight?
adilla caulfield says:
ARE U FUCKING DUMB
YESSSSS
JESUS
ok anyways
did u comfort her
- B - Just hit play and watch my life fall apart.r u satisfied? says:
i got that
but da joke wasnt funny
lol
adilla caulfield says:
hahahahah i know who wouldve laughed over twilight jokes anyway
- B - Just hit play and watch my life fall apart.r u satisfied? says:
HHHHHHHHHHH
I GOT IT NOW
COS HER NAME IS BELLA
LMFAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOo
HAHAHAHAAHHAHAAHAHHAHAHAAH
adilla caulfield says:
OMGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
- B - Just hit play and watch my life fall apart.r u satisfied? says:
LMFAO bro
adilla caulfield says:
THIS IS THE STUPIDEST CONVERSATION I'VE EVER HAD IN MY LIFE
fuck man i feel so sorry for bella
adilla caulfield says:
why whats up
- B - Just hit play and watch my life fall apart.r u satisfied? says:
i talked to bella at rick's party
and she was like sad
adilla caulfield says:
sad abt emilio?
dw man she got edward and jacob
lmao
- B - Just hit play and watch my life fall apart.r u satisfied? says:
yeh sad abt emilio
LMFAO wtf
adilla caulfield says:
omg dont tell me u did not get the joke
- B - Just hit play and watch my life fall apart.r u satisfied? says:
i didnt.
adilla caulfield says:
WTFFFF
- B - Just hit play and watch my life fall apart.r u satisfied? says:
is that sumthin to do with twilight?
adilla caulfield says:
ARE U FUCKING DUMB
YESSSSS
JESUS
ok anyways
did u comfort her
- B - Just hit play and watch my life fall apart.r u satisfied? says:
i got that
but da joke wasnt funny
lol
adilla caulfield says:
hahahahah i know who wouldve laughed over twilight jokes anyway
- B - Just hit play and watch my life fall apart.r u satisfied? says:
HHHHHHHHHHH
I GOT IT NOW
COS HER NAME IS BELLA
LMFAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOo
HAHAHAHAAHHAHAAHAHHAHAHAAH
adilla caulfield says:
OMGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
- B - Just hit play and watch my life fall apart.r u satisfied? says:
LMFAO bro
adilla caulfield says:
THIS IS THE STUPIDEST CONVERSATION I'VE EVER HAD IN MY LIFE
Monday, April 12, 2010
Low expectations, behold.
For this week only, I'm scared of the coming of Thursday. Thursday brings an announcement. The kind of announcement that will determine my future, my fate, my sanity: University entrance test results. (Bandung Institution of Technology to be precise, the one place I've been longing to study in my whole student life)
Just now a friend told me that the results are gonna come up on Thursday. As soon as I heard that I felt nervous, anxious, scared shitless. It was like somebody just told me the world's going to end on Thursday instead of December 21st, 2012. Or the world MIGHT end on Thursday, which is even worse because uncertainties with a possible hint of bad news isn't exactly everybody's piece of heaven.
So here I am, sweats dripping down my balls, cold shivers running through my spine, restless thoughts jigging around my wit. Some people told me to pray, but I don't want to look stupid in front of God, thank you very much. Honestly, I seldom pray, only when I'm told to and I'm not able to refuse (my Dad is a super devoted Muslim). So if I start praying just because I need a miracle to happen, not because the whole initiative comes from the very depth of my own consciousness, I'm afraid that will make me a hypocrite, a conformist.
Some other told me to keep up the positive thinking. I said, how the fuck can I stay positive when everyday shit happens, people die from war and famine, old fat priests molest virgin little girls, corruptors stay out of jail while licking their fingers off their loot, Miley Cyrus exists, and all the glittery rainbows and singing mermaids are crumbling down into a pile of messy debris we all call humanity...
Anyways, apparently this one friend of mine came up with the solution as how to stay calm during uncertainties with a possible hint of bad news (in this case, Thursday). Ever since she said those magical sentences a few weeks ago, they kept ringing through my ears until now, "You, know, being a pessimist isn't such a bad thing after all. 'Coz the less you expect, the lower chance of disappointment you behold."
Enough said, i will keep my expectations down until Thursday, and also any living days forward. This way, if i get accepted, unexpected happiness will I richly indulge myself in. But if i don't get accepted, I won't even think of attempting suicide. Why should I, when I'm already prepared to be disappointed from the very start :)
Just now a friend told me that the results are gonna come up on Thursday. As soon as I heard that I felt nervous, anxious, scared shitless. It was like somebody just told me the world's going to end on Thursday instead of December 21st, 2012. Or the world MIGHT end on Thursday, which is even worse because uncertainties with a possible hint of bad news isn't exactly everybody's piece of heaven.
So here I am, sweats dripping down my balls, cold shivers running through my spine, restless thoughts jigging around my wit. Some people told me to pray, but I don't want to look stupid in front of God, thank you very much. Honestly, I seldom pray, only when I'm told to and I'm not able to refuse (my Dad is a super devoted Muslim). So if I start praying just because I need a miracle to happen, not because the whole initiative comes from the very depth of my own consciousness, I'm afraid that will make me a hypocrite, a conformist.
Some other told me to keep up the positive thinking. I said, how the fuck can I stay positive when everyday shit happens, people die from war and famine, old fat priests molest virgin little girls, corruptors stay out of jail while licking their fingers off their loot, Miley Cyrus exists, and all the glittery rainbows and singing mermaids are crumbling down into a pile of messy debris we all call humanity...
Anyways, apparently this one friend of mine came up with the solution as how to stay calm during uncertainties with a possible hint of bad news (in this case, Thursday). Ever since she said those magical sentences a few weeks ago, they kept ringing through my ears until now, "You, know, being a pessimist isn't such a bad thing after all. 'Coz the less you expect, the lower chance of disappointment you behold."
Enough said, i will keep my expectations down until Thursday, and also any living days forward. This way, if i get accepted, unexpected happiness will I richly indulge myself in. But if i don't get accepted, I won't even think of attempting suicide. Why should I, when I'm already prepared to be disappointed from the very start :)
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