Rabu, 22 Oktober 2008

Do you exist just to exist? Do you feel your "existence"? Do you DO exist?

So. I am clumsy. As far, I have tripped off my own feet for... let's say eighth times since I first took exam to enter UI. All have been resulting in my left ankles, left to be sore and swollen. Big, for the first time. And then I had to be massaged by a masseur, THEN I tripped for the second time, and had to be massaged again.

Even though the second massage wasn't as hurt as the first was, still, let's say, I don't want to cry over the pain again. Different pain, maybe, but not that one.

And then I tripped for the third time, and as swollen as it seemed to be (and it was) I decided to ignore it and walk my way to the chores training in the university.

...wait. Have you read the title? No? Well, look again to the title, and read the over the paragraphs above. See the connection? No? Well, you might know what I will say next, so here: Neither do I.

But then again, I've just started to say it.

So, then. Slightly unconnected idea: A friend of mine once asked: "Do you EXIST?"

It's hard to say it in English, but the exact meaning here is that EXIST as in "active" part, not passive one.

Do you relish in it? Do you BREATHE every breath you take in and out? Do you THINK your thoughts? Do you taste and EAT everything you have eaten? Do you FEEL your emotions? Do you LIVE your life? Do you EXIST in your existence?

Do you STEP your feet to the ground? (See? It's connected after all. It's not a waste you clicky clicky. ^^)

Actually, that friend only asked this: "When you read a book, do you DO read the book? By all your conscience?"

With every move of your finger, every sound of rustling pages, every smell your breath took in?

And so, I made a conclusion that I have to actually become exist on my own, especially about the "every step I make" thing.

It worked.

Well, except that sometimes I made a scenarios of "what if"s in my head then it really happened, mainly because I think about it.

Thus, the seventh and eighth trip-over-foot thing.

You know you want to read more, just clicky clicky. ^^

Jumat, 08 Agustus 2008

You can be afraid and try, or you can just be afraid

Even though I found that phrase in a romance-story, the saying goes for everything.

To do something unusual, to just be yourself no matter how different you (unknown by yourself) are.

To walk far because you're impatient to wait the bus, and people stare at you from the bus just when you had started walking. (but you continue walking anyway)

To enjoy the walk, the air was nice and the wind was slightly cool after all.

To forget the disturbing bruise on your left ankle because the scenery was just simply refreshing.

To hear songs and mumble those out that you know others would just frowning listing to those types of songs.

To introduce yourself, and get new friendly friends in turn.

To simply just silence yourself so you wouldn't get exploded because of the heat around you.

To regain your confidence calling your best friend that you haven't called for months, just complaining the day, and get a heart-warming advises to stay calm...

Those are actually things that I myself experienced few days ago.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAND, by the way, because of the saying, I'll brave myself up and post my ongoing stories here.... yay! ^_^

It's a rather short posts because it's out of sudden, but oh well.

You know you want to read more, just clicky clicky. ^^

Jumat, 01 Agustus 2008

At the Love's Night

The rain fell softly, dripping, drizzling to the surface of the gray street. I walked, surrounded by none human beings. Not many people as insane as I was, I know, by walking alone, through the drizzle, sun almost completely set down. But you know, it was logic to do so, because I couldn't stand the temporary traffic jam which was caused by some motorcycle slipped to the sidewalk. Ouch.

And then the traffic was being fluent again, not five minutes after I stepped out of the traffic jam. Ah, not that I was regretting it, not at all.

And then I continued thinking about the singing beggar that showed up in the public transport.

He was reek of alcohol. I thought he was on high, although I've never truly known how to differ the drunks. I just knew. The smell made me sick. His eyes was wild, and he wore nothing but a cheap, plastic sandal. I knew, because I was the one who sat nearest with him. My favorite seat, you know, near the entrance of the public transportation?

He didn't even sing. He just made a speech, a poor one at that, but somehow it felt like he was honest, like from the depth of his heart. ...not that poetic, though.

He complained to the passenger. How he was suffered, how when asked for money, begged for money, people were just shooking their heads and "...just smiled gracefully. You think we'd full only by eating those smiles!?" he whined.
"You people wear nice shoes, and many of us walk barefoot!" he compared.
"Maybe you think people like me would go to hell, then go there I will! I don't care! Living here is hell enough for me!" he dared.

The driver grinned painfully, and told us to just ignore that man, "he was just drunk," the driver said.
Two people, mother-and-daughter who sat in front of me, gritted their teeth, looked somewhat disgusted by that person.
A women behind me whispered not-so-silently to someone beside her about how the man being an eye sore.

Me? As I laughed inwardly because people--who wanted to beg for some money--didn't usually do that and I was amazed by his courage to do so, I cried. I pitied him for pitying himself. I pitied him for not believing in a better future, whether it would be near or far ahead.

People might think that I was exaggerating my reaction, but truly, my heart was so empty. What a dark life he felt living on.

Water dripped to my glasses, blurred out my vision. I stepped at the stair, crossed the bridge, and it wouldn't be too far until I reached my neighborhood.

So rain still fell softly indeed, and I thought about how few love I felt on the Valentine's day.


So, uh, it was truly my experience this year's Valentine. I was expecting the story to be funny, dark-humor, but funny nonetheless, but it appeared I couldn't. A part of that, dare I say, because again my mom bugging me, since she wants to use the internet, too. Duh.

Let's say that it was written out of blue? The story is actually much, much longer than this, if I want to add why I feel the Valentine was so few of love, and the funny part (cause I totally erased the lighter part), and few things. I'm so not satisfied with this, but whatever. Heh. Anyways, yay, my third post! ^_^

You know you want to read more, just clicky clicky. ^^

Kamis, 31 Juli 2008


Hello, minna.

Um... what are we going to talk about? Oh, right, introduction. Well, then, hello. My name is Fitry. I am a homeschooler, now homeschool graduater, just yesterday, alhamdulillah... I'm on my 16th years of life now, and hopefully still on-going. ^_^

One thing about this blog is in English was because Mom wanted me sharpen my English... (she also complained about my brother who said that he wanted to be an English teacher but he wouldn't go even by just writing his post in English...) Hence, this writing.

A bit long for an introduction, and this is not revealing anything matter about me, haha... I hope I will update this regularly as a... um... blog.

Well, see you next time, then. ^_^

You know you want to read more, just clicky clicky. ^^