What to read

2006-01-20T15:42:00.000-08:00

Well That's It, I Guess

After 13 weeks, after many posts. I come to the end. Not pretty, but necessary.

I have to say goodbye now. And maybe I'd come back. And maybe not.

But the LEGO world awaits you.

2006-01-09T18:05:00.000-08:00

Just Saying Sorry, no more no less

You're right. I have been avoiding you. It's not because I hate you and certainly not because I stop trusting you.
It is out of shame that I dare not rear my head. "Please, stop it" You might say.
But what can I say... I am truly ashamed.

Knowing us together for a long time. Though distance part us, but certainly not feelings. It is you who must be commended. It is you who must be exalted. For you have gone through all my bullshit, and still you miss me.
I screamed ignorance and 'sticks and stones' still you stayed there like rock.
All the time you have said 'let it out', I went all the way. And, of course, still you'd be waiting for my next phone call.
You stayed there like a rock. Certainly someone I can depend on. Certainly something you want.

Though, now I must admit, if I have any bit of dignity, I hold it with me and try not to show

2005-12-17T13:31:00.000-08:00

Around the year 2000 something big took place in Indonesia. Film happened. Film fever. Some argued that it didn't happen then and Indonesia's film industries did not die. But the fact of the matter, everybody became interested during that time.
And for all film-making enthusiast... perfect timing, eh?

2005-12-12T19:14:00.000-08:00

Sutra and Satiri: stars and kins

Long, long ago... in a land devoted to the heavens, the people stood in awe by the lights in the sky at night. They called it dancing-dusts because those tiny white flickering objects are always moving from time to time. And some... some just falls from the sky. From this the people told stories of the inhabitants of heaven and earth. The final resting place for these people in the sky... from humans becoming dusts. Dancing dusts.

But there is one story that stood out for these people. The twin stars. There are many... but all come from one twin stars: Sutra and Satiri.

Long ago. Longer...
There was a kingdom called Hallbalah. It was led a very beautiful queen. A just queen. All the people knew no evil... knew no struggle.
All is well.

In the villages lived simple people. They were farmers, they were fishers, they were blacksmiths... but for the Queen, they were all her people. Welcomed anytime in the palace. But one boy was different from the rest. This the Queen did not know. The boy was not a trouble maker, was not a hero, and was not a prince. The boy was just a simple, ordinary, plain stableboy.
But what was extraordinary... was this boy's love, his love for the Queen's daughter, Princess Satiri.

One whole millenium has passed, peace certainly cannot live without hate. That is why another kingdom grew just to hate Hallbalah. The sole purpose of this new kingdom is to destroy the Queen and take Princess Satiri as its Maiden, thus proclaiming power to all the lands Hallbalah governed.

War grew and passed. Hallbalah crumbled, the Queen died, Princess Satiri disappeared, and the stableboy... he woke up in the middle of the ruins of the palace. Were it not for his shyness, he would've been a knight. But a knight he is, inside him... and because of the knight, he saved Princess Satiri. He saved her, he took her and led her to a runaway carriage. Poor stableboy, the fire and smoke coverted his face. The Princess knew not of this boy. Were it not for his shyness... the stableboy would be king by now.
So there is nothing left of Hallbalah. It turned into dusts.

Years passed quickly. But the love of the stableboy did not die. He knew the Princess was alive and well... somewhere. He looked and looked. There was nothing left in this earth of mankind. He grew sad and tired.
One day, after crossing the vast desert. He stumbled into a pile of stones. He dug the earth surrounding the stones and found out that it was the ruins of the old Hallbalah palace. He was back where it all started. But there is one thing he had not notice from the old times. The stones were covered with writing. The stones speak of wise men. Wise men who can be found at the end of the Fortuna Sea.

And so the stableboy sailed. A long journey this was. For all would be in vain he felt. Because all this he has done for the Princess, but the Princess does not even know him. A silent lover he felt. But it does not matter as long as he has a chance to see Princess Satiri once more. If only the Queen knew him in the old days. He might have saved Hallbalah from war just by his love. Were it not for his shyness he might have been king.

The jouney came to an end. The silent seas gave way. Now the silent world awaits him. Nothing to find in these lands just the wise men. The stableboy finally found them, inside a rock. The Rock of Harvest they called it because every once in a quarter moon, the wise men harvested grain to eat from the rock.
The stableboy asked about the Princess. Dead... the wise men said. Dead long ago.

The stableboy was very sad to hear this. Not only his love goes unnoticed but his love goes nowhere in that moment. But wait, one of the wise men said. You still have hope in reuniting your love, the other said. The last man talked of a staircase at the end of the seen horizon. The stairs appears when the moon hides in the clouds and the seas shrunk in size. There the stableboy can climb to the heavens in search of Princess Satiri.

And thus, the stableboy made his final journey to the heavens. There he found the Princess all alone. Though the souls of her people have also been imprinted as dancing-dusts, she was lef behind because she died the last. The stableboy, did not become king, did not rule any kingdom, but he found his love. And they had twins...

The twins also had twins who had twins as well, and so on... and after long, the heavens are filled with twin stars. The dancing-dusts.

This was the story of the binary stars. A solar system consisting of two stars. The people of long ago knew this fact without telescope or science. The people long ago knew this. But they were humble.
The knowledge of the universe remains a knowledge to them, not a means to an end.

2005-12-06T16:12:00.000-08:00

Rico and Mas Andre

The two boys were sitting together in a department store waiting for their mother. It's the last week they will spend together, and yet no sign of remorse crossed between them. It's as if they have love for one another, an undying one, above all else is their fondness, even separated they'll feel no loss. The ability to let go. But it's not the case. Mas Andre just doesn't care about Rico. Together or not makes no difference.

The shoe section is propably the worst because that's where their mother spend more time looking at shoes than trying them on and get it over with. Rico, the smaller one a 7 and 10 months year old, tried to get Mas Andre to "go home". But Mas Andre, the 14 year old, knows better: Mama has the car keys... and so they wait.
But Rico feels agitated, this is how he feels when he has something hidden in his smile. What could it be, Mas Andre said. Countless times this happens but nothing comes up to mind. Whatever, he thought.

Finally Mama came, without shoes in the plastic bag, getting ready to go home. Rico was so happy. Sometimes that little boy can be so annoying Mas Andre said. Things would be a lot quiter, no baby cries, no shouting, no fighting with Rico... when Papa comes. Papa will take Mas Andre away that's for sure. It's what he's been waiting for.
Since, Papa and Mama split, nothing changed for Mas Andre. But after this week has finished, everything will.
Anyway, Mas Andre would want that. No harm in that.

At home, Mama unloaded the trunk. Plastic bags were scattered everywhere. Agh, Mas Andre hated when this happens, he's always the one asked to carry all the things just because Mama said that he is stronger than Rico. But not today though... Rico was so excited about something, he wanted to carry everything and not let Mas Andre have a peek of the contents of the plastic bags. Silly little boy, Mas Andre said. But, no harm in that.

In the living room, it was clear. It was now known what Rico is hiding. He got Mama to buy Mas Andre a star wars action figure, the one he always wanted.

And all this will be gone after this week.

2005-12-06T15:29:00.000-08:00

In a Cafe

Good day to you all!!! Did you have a nice time in LEGO world?? Well, now turn your attention to the very importante blog you all have been waiting for!!!

It is CAFE BATAVIA...

Located just 10 minutes from Jalan Thamrin , Cafe Batavia stands as a majestic centerpiece to the tourist area that is Jakarta-Kota.

Since its highly publicised grand opening in 1993, the Cafe has hosted many fabulous parties and become a most popular venue of all kinds of special events. World leader and glamorous stars have attended events at the Cafe, many of which will still be talked about in years to come.

Yes, those are the words from a tiny brochure from the cafe itself, and it explains a lot doesn't it? So I don't need to write anything more...

Hehe, just kidding I know you all want to read more of my writings of very importante blogs.
Okay, let's get started.

First, the Cafe itself is not exactly 10 minutes from Jalan Thamrin, the boulevard in fornt of Bank Indonesia and Sarinah. Because of heavy traffic conditions, it may take you 20 to 30 minutes to get there. The main road in Kota is hell for cars... You drive and then stop, drive and then stop. A cyclical thing, really. Anyway, but if you take the Trans Jakarta or Busway you'll get there in no time. Just board the Sarinah stop, and it'll take you in..... 10 minutes!
But, you have to walk from Kota station to the cafe. You need to pass Fatahillah Museum, and then walk through the large square... and on the left side of your peripheral sight... there it is....
from the outside, it's nothing much. But once you step inside, your heart stops...
you have been transported to 1930ish era.
Cafe Batavia.

As I said, the first thing you'll notice is the feel of the cafe. Have you watched Casablanca? Exactly the style. The cafe has two floors. The ground floor, is fitted with a Audio Visual stage. That's where all the bands and guests usually ahve events. There's a bar as well to quench your thirst. On the walls are musical instruments, pictures, and decoratives that would make you bend over and say,"Aah....."
The air conditioning is great (and I'm talking as a person who lives in Jakarta), and the cherry on top would be the added ceiling fan. A nice homage to late colonial buildings. Well, basically, yeah this building is designed to have the look and feel of a Dutch colonial building.

The second floor is just an absolute treat. You have pictures riws after rows on the walls and pillars. You may wonder if all those celebrities hanged have visited the cafe... find out for yourself. Comfortable sofas anyone? And another bar and another event room. And what's more, is the huge dining room. It may as well accomodate 100 people. With menus on the back of a picture hanged on pillars. Gimmick? yes, a nice one at that.

I can't stress how peacefull all this feels to me. At a reasonable price as well I might add. For this place, Starbucks exceeds the price but only matched half of the nuance. I might say, if had a very long day and you're with your firends, drop by and feel the breeze of fresh atmosphere. Drinks abundant. Try the punch. It punches.

I think I don't have anything more to spoil. Just grab your tickets and head to Jakarta!

Tips:-
None! Try it out for your self.
Oh, one more thing: go to the toilet----very retro!

2005-12-06T14:49:00.000-08:00

In the Waiting Room

Yes, it's true. You're sitting next to me. Face dead ahead, looking through the reflections of the glass to the planes to the fields. You can see someone sitting beneath the tree.

When everyone just sits and sleeps. Lying in this eternity, waiting for the big phone to call out their names. Just when silence encapsulates your thoughts, your music drowns you with wonders. Submerge in temps, sublime, cold, and still.

The floor is cold and air dry. The waiting room has been waiting for you to leave it. the phone is there waiting to call. And you are "still" waiting still.

Cont'd
The outside is dark and inside bright. You can see yourself seeing yourself in the transparant glass. If only it was noon you might satisfy your boredom by the moving ships. But you can't now. All you can see is yourself, and many others beside you.

Holding on to your sleeves, rubbing it to warm the skin underneath. Resisting to look at the round clock, avoiding the disappointment of waiting longer. Or what seems to be longer. Closing your eyes again to imagine wonderous worlds. Entertain yourself.
But you know, you know...
You're alone in the chair. There are no flashes, there are memories. All silent thoughts. Silent screams.

In the waiting room of your head, you have to wait. Wait. Wait.

2005-12-05T14:50:00.000-08:00

Coming back to the way it was

And so it is, Damien said. The pupil in denial, he said. Nevertheless it is true.
Lights trail by and cars goes underground. Images drowns and sound deafining.
Superficial world in hyper reality.

Denying every importance all this have on me. Ignoring the fact that I too will be ignored one day.
World of superstructures and massive buildings.
Tons of material flying everywhere. Endless days of adjusting.

But sitting or walking I can't shake my mind of the inevitable.
Every moment leaves the next vulnerable to possibilities.
You said it's easy, and I said it might. I'll do my best to forget whatever it is you want me to forget.
I'll try to soften the fall but I can't promise anything when we get there.
The fall won't kill me.

You said it might end. You said it again. Again. And again. No assurances of otherwise.
These moments we can only feel you said. It might end tomorrow.
I can't take my mind off you.
But I can adjust. Adjust to your likings... Close my eyes, drift to sleep. Feel nothing.
As you would want me to do.

Another walk to the way it was. Step by step I'm managing without you. The long goodbye.
To my home. And so it is. You looked at me before you say goodbye.
Smiling, sending me off to the way it was.
The world, before you.

2005-11-30T14:11:00.000-08:00

Movie Struck

Two hours in a dark confined chilly place can you leave you hanging. Especially, when lights and sound bombard your senses to a point where you gaped your mouth and say,"Wow... that's awesome".

Yes, that very fateful moment, I was introduced by possibilities. Not by strength which leads you to power. Or will. Or hope. It was now possible to run my imagination wild and make it possible to put it down on paper... and make it possible to take up to the big screen.

I wasn't aware of the fame and responsibilities that you have to endure if take the job. You can say "I don't want fame" but you hae to get it to go anywhere. You can say "I'm doing this for myself", yeah right, let's see you handle criticism. I am well afraid now to know all that. But, here's the deal, give me time and a camera... I'll make something. For me it's that simple, it's either you do it or you don't. You can say "yeah right, let's see you do it without editing systems". Okay...

I read stories about people who love the medium so much they took any pieces of film they can find and paste them together. Some people drew drawings and photograph them and from that become an animated movie. I read them and I was struck with their passion... and I felt at the least humbled. They are great. Those who went way over their limit to get what they want... in a good way.
For me, I started out with a video camera. I planned each shot. I rigorously timed each beat of the music to synchronise with the shot. I pressed record, at the same time, I pressed the play button on the tape player, at the same time, I yelled action......... It was a nice experience. Then I realised I can do something with my vcr player... the first time I can shoot something out of chronological sequence. The thought hit me when I was shooting my very first film with my friends at school. I was ecstatic.
That's how I coped with limitations. Other than that, it's luck.

I want to do this. And when you have someone who wants the same thing. What can be better? Fights will go along the way. Hearts will break. But at the end, you appreciate the journey not the boon.

And for me, when people criticise... I get angry, I get heartbroken.... because I know, they would've gave up along the way. But my friends pulled together. We talked about how to overcome obstacles and we do it.

This is what I and my friends live for. The thrill of an idea. The smile everytime a problem arises. The adrenaline of a deadline. The journey of it all.

You can say the story sucks. I'll say, hey we're not there yet. And when we are, we'll take you on.

2005-11-26T14:41:00.000-08:00

Yaya the Conquerer in Ancol

From Ancol

(conquering Jakarta part 2)

Hello all the people in the world! It's time for another very importante blog.

So now you know how to get to Ancol. It's time to explore the intricate secrets of Jakarta's sights and sounds.

But first, you may ask: So, what do we do when we get to Ancol?......... anything you want....

but do it for a few hours, I mean, so you wouldn't feel wasted.

Then what you do is, you go back to the center of Jakarta. How? Use the same route, duh! But, I gotta warn you, this time it would be different, for one, it's probably going to get hotter (if you're game enough to go back at 1 pm). And the roads gonna seem longer. And there's a chance you wanna say "Ah, dowg-digedy, shucks, blahkamey, maghwagh, I'm done!!!" and then throw your bike to that river beside you.

But don't do that! You're a bike warrior now! Control that urge... until school (if you know what I mean)

Anyway, Jakarta! You've seen the map! You know how it looks like! Now, let me intoduce you to some of the places. First, what I and Yaya did after we get back to Monas... no, we did not eat again... is we decided to take a different route! When we went to Ancol, we tried Jalan Sudirman. Now, went through the other side which is Kuningan! (check the map again)

The first thing, after you pass Gambir Station and Monas, you will encounter Sarinah. There used to be a huge Ronald McDonald balloon there, but after we imported FOX tv, we replaced it with air. And there's a QB bookstore there before you get to St. Theresia High School. When you pass the school just go stright and there's this German school/arthouse: Goethe Institute. What they do in there is.... cool... They usually hold independent film screening. An art exhibition. And for those who wants to study abroad in German, you go there!

The places I talked about is an area called Menteng! And in this area too lies a dark place... a very dark and spooky place.... on the street of Jalan Cendana no. 9 lies the lair... of a once great dictator... SUHARTO!!!!!!!! (crashng intense music!)

And in this area too you can see the residence of many ambassadors. That is why you normally see heavy armed car. Or even small tanks. But right now, the most conspicuous, yes you guessed it, is the American residence.... 3 metre gates. Barb wires. Security cameras. Snipers (as rumoured). Two armed military guard. An ever ready police car. Probably a silo in there somwhere.... but hey, they're not bad. Just peaceful.... as long as they can have all the guns in the world, and no one has it... they won't bother anyone (blink blink)

Yaya sped his bike criss-crossing Jalan Cendana... I'm not making this up... but knowing that's Suharto's residence gives you the heebie jeebies... but the area is not all bad! On the contrary, it's very peaceful (except the one occasion where the area got flooded because of rain). In front of the American residence, there's a small park called Taman Suropati... veeery nice place... it's surround by trees so it's very cool in the center. They sell Nasi Gila (Crazy Rice) and some other delicious food. And when you take your bike around Menteng you will find that there is hidden small parks and quite roads where you can let go of the bike handle and spread your arms like an eagle. My advice: don't be shy taking the small roads.

Once you're done with all the exploring. You want to head over to the Kuningan area. You'll probably pass the Menteng Mall... and actually, you better stop there for a while. Why? FOOD!!! Nice food. And what's more, just at the end of the road there's a bridge, and if you go under it: Transexual Heaven!! Yes, if you wana have a good time take a stroll there at night and not one, not two, not five, but... probably three dude-looks-like-a-lady will offer you what precious time they have. Enjoy : )

There's still a lot of things to tell when you cross that bridge from Menteng over to Kuningan... like, the Australian Embassy which got hit by terrosrist bombs, the American hotel Marriot which got hit by a terrorist bomb, the library for all Indonesian film, a huge CBD, Erasmus Huis, and places where they take films. But hey, a blog's a blog. There are limits. (Not really hehehehe)

But there will come another time to tell. But for now, I and Yaya crossed over the Kuningan CBD to Jalan Sudirman again. Why? Because at rush hour, though it doesn't effect bike riders that much, it's closer to my house if we go through Jalan Sudirman.

Thank you. LEGO world awaits you.

2005-11-25T04:52:00.000-08:00

Sneaking in the Dark

Opening the door at 23.00 shivers your spine. The ghosts and boogeymans have long been
dissapointed by you.
You laugh at the dark.
But you shiver in the possibility of having to meet someone who's eyes are still wide open.

How long have you been into the world to know: the best thing, is to keep to yourself...
... so yourself would be kept a secret.
Not needing anyone to talk to.
Not wanting to have a smile.

Coming through the door at 23.00 feels like coming through Pandora's gate. Hold yourself still. Take in all that breath. Eyes lurching forward... scouting.
And when they are not there.

You realise.
It is you who is invisible.

They will not see you anymore.
And that's sad.

2005-11-21T13:43:00.000-08:00

Part of Partiture

I've never known music. That's my biggest regret.

Music is beautiful. Not the bastardise commercial songs. But music, of any form. It's funny, while comforting, that we can say "it's not my taste" to any song. But hardly, we ever say "that it is just bad". Because it's not. If you know or have seen how music is created, you can never say it's bad. Because it's not.

The clicking, tapping, beating or swaying of every independent note formed in rythm... it's mathematics in its best. I wonder how and why that is. I listened closely to every beat, it always falls in the right place. Even if you're speaking in rythm... there's always that beat. It's beautiful.
If you're sitting behind a pianist you would know where the story changes or when it is in its liveliest. Because that's what it does really, it brings you to life. Because if we step back, what is tunes? It's sounds, formed together. But it brings you to life.

I used to sit looking towards those people of music. They were called a chamber. I secretly envied them. I secretly admired their ability to distinguish the F from the F# or the long from the short. Maybe I can be like them... but I can't.
I was with those people... ask them about me. They would know who I am. But not as a violinist, nor a percussionist, or bassist, not even a person of music. They would know me as the guy with the camera. Wearing a black jacket. Fisherman's hat. Quiet when it begins, gone when it stops.

Sitting in a chair, any chair. I took them in my frames. I try to keep up with the pace. My shots were always the same; panning, zooming, tilting, focusing... while they improve. They grow in front of my eyes, while I was left behind.
Their passion carries the music. Their anguish carries their passion. And their music... ingulf every emotion they can have. And when it is over, when the last beat has expires... silent insues... followed by thunderous applause.
And humble hearts.

If ever I were to fall in love with a person... I think I would have to go with a person of music.

2005-11-14T18:30:00.000-08:00

Independence Day

(a very importante blog)

17 August 1945, a man with his fellow countryman stood outside a house holding a piece of paper in his hand. He was said to be the greatest orator ever. The paper he was holding was said to be the greatest statement ever. And after more than 60 years later, it still was... Indonesia's Independence Day.

The blog you're about to read, is said to be the most importante blog ever.

Anyway, if you're looking for information about the Indonesian Independence Day you can go to wikipedia because what I'm about to tell you is what you CAN DO on that day. Just like the picture, be free and be young!

In Indonesia you are expected to celebrate the day. In the old days (of my life, they still do it though) we used to have a flag ceremony at school. Around 7.00 or 7.30ish, depends on how fast the students can assemble themselves, or the teachers for that matter. It takes an hour to one and 1/2 hour long. We're supposed to remember our national heroesand sing anthems and be given instructive instructions by our head master. Then, if we have our own orchestra, we would sing our hearts out... by adding an extra "AAAAAAAAAAAHH" to every last line of a song.

Usually after the ceremony there were fun and games, such as Balap Karung, Panjat Pinang, Makan Kerupuk, Botol Pensil, Tarik Tambang, etc..... (I know what you're thinking, go to google and typein Indonesian-English) It's very festive. I said "usually" because a lot of the time students just jump over the fence and be gone!

Outside school, in our neighborhood, they have badminton tournaments, dangdut concerts (try wikipedia), and occasionally a riot... I don't know why..

All that's very important and all... but I just want to tell you what you can REALLY do on that day. First, if you're a student and you're expected to attend the school festivities and you do not want to jump over the school fence in here it may catch your ankle and bleed you. There is a much more simpler way.

Say you're going to Bogor Botanical Garden... in Bogor. They won't believe you... I know. But say that you want to study the variety of plants there, to gain knowledge. Now that they believe. Take your friends and a car. The more the merrier, but don't take that guy who keeps mumbling mumbo jumbo along. It would be a really really nice trip. And you wuld see festivals along the way to Bogor...

Second, grab an Indonesian flag, make a cape out of it. Then, get your friends. Then, get a bike (make the necessary bike preparations) and go wild. You can go to your friend's houses and brag about how fun you are and how dull their lives must've been because they're not doing anything. But at the end of the day you must ride on... ride to where the wind takes you! Or rather, just go to Monas. On the north side of Monas lies the presidential palace (our white house... because it's white). They will have a big flag ceremony and you can be just another bystander there... you can see the police, the army, the marching band, and guess what... the President!! But he/she would be 500 meters away from you... but good enough right?

Well, those are the only two things you can do in Independence Day..... what can I say we're a strict country....

no... kidding... we're not...

But what is strict than that of your small hearts?

2005-11-12T17:20:00.000-08:00

Kuburan

While I walk encapsulated by figures of death, I read the names of those who slept within the ground. The place is silent, the first necropolis I ever saw. A city no different from those of the living. But it's still divided by race, religion, and whatever. The living desires to take their "ways" even to the netherworld. Don't they know after this moment, all returns to the pure circle we all call nol-nihil-nil-nothingness?

I walk. The deaths of those children, so young very young, uttered the girl beside me.
Why?
The monuments of death showed it knows nothing. 3 months to 25 years, what's the difference? All is young....

And maybe some would say that is is unfair. But why? Isn't it what it is meant to be? Just because they die young? Because they haven't had a chance to enjoy this beautiful world?

Of course we are spoilt by notions that the world is everything. That life sits the highest priority. That deaths would justify saving the living. That leaving the living to die would just not do. All should live.

Are you enjoying this world? Inside your minds, sre not yours.
And maybe they would say it's so sad. But why? Is it because you lost your chance to do something about it?
You you you... Is it they who should be pitied?

Life is wasted on the living. We all walk to the same destination.

And maybe they would think, yes, that destination has a name: Tanah Kusir, Lidcombe, Kalibata, Westwood...
But, isn't the nameless place is our real destination?

2005-11-11T16:41:00.000-08:00

Saat senyum itu sirna

Memegang cangkir di tangan, berusaha tak melepaskannya
Pikiran melayang pada masa depan yang tak lagi bertahtakan indah
Duduk di sebuah bantal dengan daun rontok sudah
Melihat wajah-wajah yang terukir pada hatimu, hilang
Melihat senyumannya yang sirna.
Sulit kita mengubah apa yang seharusnya terjadi.

Ucapan manis tak berpihak pada benak kita, mulut kita tertutup rindu
rindu yang belum pula tercipta
tapi kita telah pada titik di mana tatapan, hanya tatapan, yang bisa berucap.
Cangkir terakhir yang kuminum denganmu, terasa pahit
kopi yang kupesan untukmu bersikeras tinggal dalam rasa.
Aroma ini akan menjadi tugu bagi kenangan kita.

Dan, ku diam berpikir, apa yang menyebabkan ini semua.
Di mana di awal aku pernah memayungi ketika hujan,
di mana kamu mendengarkan hujatanku.
Tapi kita tetap di sini, sampai sekarang.

Terima kasih temanku. Meski telpon tak berdering... Ingatan melawanku.
Surat terbang hingga ujung khatulistiwa.
Kalian akan di sisiku. Meski, kalian mengenal wajahku tapi tak mengenal aku.
Kalian akan di sisiku.

Terima kasih temanku.
Denga erat kita memegang cangkir ini. Sebuah tegukan akhir perlu terlewati.
Di masa depan, rasa itu tak akan sirna.

2005-11-10T13:58:00.000-08:00

Having Names means being Game!

If you meet someone with names in their heads, what would you think?
Agin said this. According to Agon. That's what Agun stated. Agen would disagree.
Original isn't it...

That's how you're expected to talk when you're in the academic circle. Nothing is innocent.
You're as 'dirty' as porno stars. Not for your meat and flesh, but your synapsis and neurons.
But what's more amazing, that's how you're expected to be in real life. You're expected
to think what people thought. To say what people have said. Original isn't it.

I come to wonder for some time. Is this Western expectation? How come I've never seen it before.
Am I just another toad under a stone, knowing only the worms and mud I live by?
This New Age, enlighted lifestyle... Become a Hippie... Be omniscience.
I read and I read, how come it's so natural for Eastern philosophers to be unpretentious. Or are they, you might want to correct me.
Westerners... so they say... know everything. Thus the world cannot be expected less than that. How deep is our puddle of mud that we bathe in? How deep are we suppose to drown?

I have come to wonder again. If the world thinks the same thing, say the same words. Maybe, it would be a better place. Enough with our pride. Sink it in. Be one.

Contradictory isn't it?

2005-11-08T14:28:00.000-08:00

Fatahillah Museum
(where the people sleep and ghosts awake)

Why are there two high-profile radical intellectual scholars surfing on a canon? This very importante blog has your answer.

These canons used to be real canons and it was used to fend off armies from the north of Batavia... or so the brochure says of Musium Fatahillah.

What is this museum? Well, in the old days it was used for the state residence for Dutch governor generals.

Where is it? It's in front of Cafe Batavia... where is Cafe Batavia? It's in front of Fatahillah Museum. I hope that clears things up for you.
Well, basically to get there from Senayan (South Jakarta) you best take the very savvy and very cool TransJakarta (Busway) and stop at the end station Kota. After getting off Kota you might want to go north and you'll encounter a building. Pass the building from the left... believe me, though it's a little path, it's much better than going from the right side of the building where pedestrians and streets collide. You won't know where you're meant to be before you have you're head smashed against a motorcycle.
And a tip for you guys who loves to visit museums.... don't go anywhere on Mondays... yes, you can try to go to the fornt door of Fatahillah... but they won't open it for you. They're closed man...

The best thing about Fatahillah, beside being close to Cafe Batavia, is that you have museums surrounding it. The Pottery and Wayang museum. You have a whole square as the front courtyard which gets very frying-pan-like in the middle of the day. But, there's a fountain in the centre... with green water....
And there's a market right across the front door... jeans, t-shirts, bags, jackets, you name it, they have most of it. But don't get to close, they'll suck you in... no kidding.
And there's also a dungeon beneath the building. Once upon a time there were tours... ghost tours to the dungeon... The entrance was just below the main portal to the museum. It has an open entry way... which means, yes, to the people who knows and love Jakarta: when there's flood, there's no way.
In other words, instead of having ghost tours, you might as well grab a scuba gear and have a merry underwater adventure.

So what is inside the museum... not much... truly, I wish there were more to talk about... but... It's just a display of Dutch colonial furnitures... nothing you haven't seen in IKEA. Only, it gets a little creepy in the hall ways. The ridiculously gigantic pictures of governor generals looming over you makes you want to go to the toilet. But it does make you think, why would anyone want a massive picture of themselves?

But there are other cool stuff... they have pots and scriptures from early Java kingdoms or from Chinese and Indian traders. Nice stuff.

Tips:
1. There's a small gift shop in the corner of the building... the wayangs are cheaper there than the wayang museum.
2. there's going to be a Fatahillah cafe opening soon... check it out.
3. Oh, the most important... allegedly, everyday around 13.00ish... there's an old man who sales world maps in the front courtyard... I mean, if you're interested.
4. The trees there are ideal places to take your girl/boyfriend... trust me on this : )

2005-11-07T18:10:00.000-08:00

Newton's Law is God's Rule

Anything can happen inside an elevator. You could just be talking to your loved ones or having personal insightful thoughts. Then something unthinkable happens which can leave you dumb-founded. It silences you, it instills you in a moment.

Events can go so wrong especially if it happens in a very short time. You were in LG and you're trying to go to level 2. When something happens between the floors, you're pissed as a rock. It is not necessary you might think, but it happened. Life's like that.

It was before level 1 when it happened. The moisture of biology and synthetic ice would loosen the grip of a mechanical dexterity. No matter how hard it holds, some time it would eventually slip out. That's what basically happened. It was like napalm.

The moisture sped the round tubular like "container" to fall out of the grip of its possesor. The "container" was supposed to be in a still state, vector zero velocity zero. But the 9.8 m/s/s of force which a man created had suck it down giving it acceleration. It speeds up in the air. Particals of argon, oxigen, carbon dioxide, mono dioxide, CFF, and plumbums whipped away from the "container"'s pathway. And it that brief moment in time, it could be said other dimensions picked up the same events but produce infinite possibilities of end result. It fell and fell, feeling the stifled air around it cutting through real-space. From zero to maximal velocity before it turns to zero inertia at the end. And the end is the ground. Everything finishes when the "container" hits the ground. The journey ends. Not the aftermath.

Like napalm I said. Karma: starts from velocity zero ends with zero verocity. Your face lay still seeing the blast... the spill over of contents. It spreads like fungi in a bark. The very material that causes the initial chain of reaction finally explodes into real-space. Hitting everything in its proximity. The ground zero. Pearls of black globular balls littered the ground. All who witness gaped in awe before it finally hit them, the repurcussions-the mess they have to clean. Like molten lava it ruins any beauty there was on the ground. The "container"'s content have let wild-irrevocable.

Everyone stood still at the sight. No one smiled no one laughed. It was too late to do anything. All there was left to do was make things right again. The blast has rocked cognition and conscience. It wouyld be easy to let go and forget. Too easy. But the guilt you carry... that would last. Forever.

My friends, this afternoon I bought an Easyway drink. I got into the elevator and I accidently lost hold of it. It fell and spilled everywhere when it hit the floor of the lift.
I'm so sorry.

2005-11-02T14:08:00.000-08:00

peacE

I think the world can indeed be a peaceful place. Well, not only in our minds or our hearts. But really, it can be, around you around what you see, hear, smell, feel, anywhere.

You can imagine. You can sing it.

Things does not have to be hard. We do not always have to blame others.

If you need to be angry then do so, but after, love again.

Things will not always be easy. We do not have to take it for granted.

If you need to smile then do so, but keep it for those 'other' times.

People have always tried to make peace. All through history. From Plato to Bush. They want the same thing, order. The Republic, the New Age, Buddhism, and families.

This is my peace.

We don't have to be united. We don't have to have a leader. We don't have to have religion. We don't have to have celebrities. We don't have to have money. We don't need to try so hard. We don't have to achieve the greatest achievements.

Let it be.

This is my world.

Groups of people, not nations, just people live together separately. They are taught, yes moulded, to be independent. They don't need to have governments. They can have global communication but not globalisation. For each people grow their own way. People do not keep secrets and do not value privacy as a human nature. People do... not what is moral, but what works and what is so.

You can have thrills... go jump off a cliff to the crystal clear-unpoluted cool waters of the seas.

You can have fun... throw snowballs at each other, with smile of course.

You can have fights... to better understand each other.

You can make love... with anyone without attachment but with compassion.

People live with the understandings... we only want, but not need. For we are complete.

There is no poverty... only inequality. People help without being help in return. Then in return gets aide.

There is no massacres... only deaths. They rejoice and not mourn. Because there are other things in life to enjoy before they are reunited.

There is no plagues... just nature. The world goes round... and so does the circle of life.

Isn't this simple? Yet, it is hard to understand. I know.

But to think, wouldn't you live for yourself rather than others?

But without others how would you live....

Maybe, just maybe...

2005-11-01T16:41:00.000-08:00

Believing a Belief

How hard is it to admit that we are lost? How often do we think of bigger forces, let it be Super-nations or Omni-titans or just Life.
We do think of these things... but we think of them as obligatory impediments. It is never easy.

I never thought my life was a mess. Just I. No, things have gone smoothly. The river streams ever calmly to unknown stormless oceans. However, the captain of this ship is wrecked. That is how I feel.

But truly, no matter how hard the tempest hit nor how strong your soul falters. A simple belief is all you need to patch things up. Don't you think? All can be forgotten by chants. By chance all can be forgiven.

I stood not two meters away from a stage full of praise and joy (or so I saw). I stood between the stage and the followers behind me. Both beings on the orderly stage and scattered floor all were equal in their praise to their Lord.
I was helping a cameraman in an event. A fundraising event, actually. It was called "Breakthrough", and through the night I understood what they meant. By explicit words, they asked us to have a breakthrough tonight. To let go of ourselves. To believe.

Seven Sydney churches unite. They invited Jacqluin Cellose to sing, a gospel singer. A 30-somewhat year old woman who can dance rivalling Britney Spears, but with her clothes on. It was, not to say the least, an invigorating experience. You don't have to do anything but just to stand there and watch the spectacle, and before long... your soul would be swept away...
Weird...

Everyone closed their eyes when they sang... even the young ones. They lifted their hands. And if they have to... they jump. The music runs back and forth. The beat goes on and on... you're not hypnotised... but you're praising.

What's funny is... if you lift your veil of sinicism... everything would be simple. As it is. The people I worked with... they are not fanatics... they do not worship words or dances... they lifted their souls and after, they are normal people. Or at least, more normal than I.

I would just like to state... believing a belief should never be distrusting truth.

Of course, I was careful not to be swept up... but the other night I came home at two o'clock am.
I didn't have my keys. So, I thought I could just get someone who would use the lift to drop me off on any floor and I'd go to my floor by emergency staircase. I was tired. But someone was listening. Some force.
The person who would help me... was an Indo. She lived on my floor.
In a particular time and particular tenant.

Maybe God...

2005-10-31T18:56:00.000-08:00

This is Monumen Nasional (MONAS)

Welcome! to another very exciting and very importante blog. I have been out of touch with the real world of cyber-space and have been out in the imaginary LEGO world. I beg for your forgiveness. And now, I want to make it up. I want to put 1/7 of my heart writing this beautiful blog your about to pass.

The picture above is Monas, or what my friends and I have affectionetly called it our Peaceful Place. How can it be, you ask. We ask, how can it not?! Just look at the picture. It's peaceful. You've been living under shells, you guys...

Monas has a long history... about 50 years. It was built under the orders of our very first and very importante president Bung Karno. He was a nice fellow, before grandeur and the CIA caught up with him. Basically Sukarno built this candle-like monument to show the world how big his erection was, so to speak. He was also building lots of things back then. Indonesia finally delved into the world politics because Monas has stuck it up everyone's arses.

Monas itself is basically a huge tall white candle/torch with a rectangle bowl on the bottom of it. Looks like the obelix in Washingto DC but much-much more beautiful to look at... I'm not lying.. I'm being objective about my subject! Up close you can see panels of bricks which Monas is made of. And there is an elevator shute inside the tower which goes up to the top, a viewing platform. An at its tip... the treasure of Monas: the golden flame...

Well, I don't know if it is real gold... some say it is... but I don't know man...

A myth: I have heard, heard not seen the empirical data, of rumours... Rumours so astounding it would be astonishing if it were true. Someone once said that if you look at Monas from the four different sides of it, in the flame sculpture... you can see a Wayang carved into it. Whoaa.... amazing huh... But probably I'm just pulling your legs... probably you should go and cheeck it out by yourself...

2005-10-31T18:39:00.000-08:00

What to write?

Have you ever had one of those times when you need to do something.

Because you have to.

Because there's no other choice.

Because you need to prove yourself.

Because it's assessed.

Because you have to stand out.

Because there's a formula: no creativity=no no.

Well, now I have to write something. But I have absolutely no idea.

"I have no idea but the idea that I have no idea."

Wow isn't that something...

But yes, this is just me. I'm just doing this to get marks.

I'm weirdly honest and honestly... I'm weird.

2005-10-25T17:58:00.000-07:00

Requiem for a Memoir

I remembered thinking:

I would be the same person when I grow up
I would still be playing with Gundams
I hated my parents
I will never be the adults I see

Of course, I was wrong. Now it's too apparent. I thought about myself too much. Being an egoist is everybody's habit. Thus, it inhabits us.

When I was young, I didn't learn lots of things. I stayed out of the reach of books. TV was my mentor. Toys, I ran to. I wonder now if that was what I should have been. Or any one of us should. Because I found myself left behind. All the boys have cars, all the girls have boys. I didn't learn lots of things, yet I thought I knew a lot.

I guess kids know a lot. Look at how they look at you. They expect something from you, they always do. Because that's how I look at other people. Yes, I confess that I am a child. Kids only know black and white. They stick to what they know, or to who the know. Just like my cousin stuck to my arm everytime I read him something. They never grow, in a way. Or at least, they don't want to even if their catch phrase is:"Don't treat me like a kid!"

But at the end, they do become something, don't they. They become you and me (I presume, anyone who's reading this blog is not a kid, in your sense).

They pose for us. We gave them the sense of who they are. They are cute. They are pretty. They are funny. But what happens in 10 years time? It's all too natural... or is it not? They pose for us because we wanted them to. Because we want them to identify with us. Don't worry, they'll be us.

I remember not wanting to have responsibilities. But, I guess, as you grow, you go. Your innocence leaves you. If you stick to it, you'll be deviant. I never liked that. But what do I know?

And what gets me most about kids are. They sleep when they want to. They do. And they make a big fuss out of it. They make a bigger fuss if they don't want to sleep, actually. Remember those times, all you have to do is sleep. Oh, and being cute is helpful. Things comes and goes so fast don't they? We say they grow up so fast. And they think we shrink so sudden.

Hey, I didn't learn a lot. But I kept my head open. And I'm trying to do that with my heart. Because all I'm trying to do is sleep. I didn't wanna become the things I never wanted to be. But I am now. But there's always a chance to grow, right? Redemption is a word that a kid should never know. But an adult should always carry.

2005-10-24T20:14:00.000-07:00

ANCOL

(part 1 of Conquering Jakarta by bicycle)

Yes, it's time... for another very importante blog post. Or it's time for a nap... gee I'd like that. But I'm ever faithful to those in need of nothing else better to do.

Today you will visit the busiest places in Jakarta, right from Cilandak to Ancol. From South to North, and South again. A good 42km journey. You will encounter the fastest routes to happiness... and enlightenment. First, you have to know how to get to the north shore of Ancol and on the way back you will have to visit peaceful places of Jakarta.

The picture above is of my best mate Yaya. The picture is taken by an army personnel. The picture depicts our victory conquering Jakarta on the edge of Ancol. And it is irrelevant to all the things I'm about to write.

This blog, the one right now, the one you're reading, concerns a basic knowledge of Jakarta geography. The main route takes you from Cilandak (South of Jakarta) goes through Mampang (still south) through Kuningan (south still) Jl. Sudirman until Monas (centre of Jakarta) and Mangga Dua (north of Jakarta) and the road takes you straight to Ancol.

Or you could go to http://www.indomedia.com/intisari/1997/mei/gunther.htm

And yes, Jakarta does look like a bad case of caries in a molar.

First of all. Why we did this... because we want to.

And THAT'S the kind of spirit you need to have if you want to conquer Jakarta.

Secondly. The best route to go to Ancol by bicycle. It took us 3 hours. By car, it may take 5.

Well, Yaya started to open his eyes at around 5 am. He did nothing for 3 hours, by then it's 8. And that's when everything began. He stretched and he puffed. He ate and he pooed. He waited for his great friend, Andra. After, Yaya grabbed two cans of Pocari Sweat (must have in bicycle trips) and puts it in the sides of his backpack.

So, what you'll need in your backpack:

small towel
2-3 shirts, in case you sweat. Or get sprayed by someone on a lawn somewhere (which we eventually did).
wallet full of money. It's not good stranded in the center of the city when you're hungry and there are millions of foodstalls... but no money. It's just wrong.
cell-phone. Well... you don't really need one actually... if you're loser, cos you have no one to call. But if you're as cool and magnificent as Yaya... it's important not to have any means of communication because you'll get buzzed by your fans all the time.
a chain for your bike. Duh.

And what you need on you:

On your head--a cap! the best cap you can find, you're gonna need it in Jakarta. And the best looking shades. Just to look cool.
On your feet--a pair of sneakers is the way to go.
On your butt--a bicycle.

After breakfast (don't eat too much to avoid cramps -red) Yaya flexed his muscle and started to ride. His house is located in Cilandak KKO, which means you may have a hilly ride. But once you get to the main road of Ampera it's all smooth... if there were no bussess and motorcycles and cars. Because there were, well, it's not that smooth.

And at some point you have to turn right to access Mampang's main road. But don't get lost, like we did. Don't ever try to think that you're smart enough to conquer Jakarta's many small roads, you'll end up in a village. But if you see a big BMW sign and horses on a rooftop, you are in the right direction.

Anyway, after Mampang, you'll be connected Kuningan. How you'll recognise Kuningan is by the big fly-over above an intersection. If you are ON the intersection... well good luck, cos you can't get out of it for another good 2km.

In Kuningan, you could go straight to Monas. But hey, we're young, we could die anytime, why not live? That's why we took a detour passing Erasmus Huis and the Kuningan CBD. It connects to Jl. Sudirman... in a way. But as there are many roads to Rome, there are as many to Monas (oh, btw, Monas is the National Monument), but unfortunately we had to discover that in many more different ways... in short... we got lost again.

Well, just take any big road to Monas. Once you're there, head for the east side towards Gambir train station. From Cilandak it may take 1-2 hours and a can of Pocari Sweat. And by then you'll be starving. Remember your wallet. And your chain. Why? Because if you don't chain your bike before you leave for lunch it has the same effect as not covering your tracks before you cheat on your partner... you'll have a heartbreak. Obvious really. Really it is.

Gambir Station have a million (minus 999,990) restaurants. It's your choice. But we chose a Japanese one, similar to Hoka Hoka Bento. Only different is, we had company: cockroaches.

Well, you'll feel full after. Who wouldn't? Cockroaches are tasty. And so, the journey continues. But why not enjoy Monas... it is very big and beautiful. It is. I'm not lying. See... I'm not being sarcastic.

Yes, from Gambir take Jalan Medan Merdeka Timur and head for Pasar Baru (New Market). On the way, you'll find old Dutch buildings and a cathedral and a really really big field called Banteng Field. When you reach Pasar Baru, notice the big black river... turn east... and you'll end up in a boulevard heading Mangga Dua. You're nearly there. Congratulations, don't die yet.

This boulevard will lead you straight to Ancol. But I got to tell you. It's long... and before long, you'll wish you've worn thongs, and singing songs. It's so jampacked with cars! It's bloody hot. Oh, you better bring an extra Pocari Sweat. The best way to cope with this is by staying on the side of the road or better yet, stay on the pedestrian road. Careful of pedestrians though, they're hostile if you nudge them. Remember the big black river, well this boulevard is on the side of it. Notice the fragrance.

Useful tips: after you pass the Mangga Dua shopping mall, it's better to be on the other side of the road, because cars will come and go near the mall. And you might want to paddle your bike every 10 meters, save your energy, save yourself.

There will be a flyover at the end. And beyond... your destination.

I advise you to go to the Marina (no, it's not a girl's name). And stay there for more than an hour... why? why not. And take some pictures. But don't stay until night because it will be closing time, and as the old wisdom goes: you don't have to go home, but you can't stay there.

So, we come to the end. Yaya is tired. He wants to go home. I do to. I hope you enjoy this blog. It will be continued. Go outside, you just spent 5 minutes reading. Good luck. GBU.

Okay bye.

2005-10-24T16:12:00.000-07:00

Day after Yesterday

Today. Some might think it's good to be alive after what happened yesterday. All has passed. But today might not be different. The only hope lies in tomorrow. Some live in ground zero. Some live in poverty. Some may die without...

Some, I, would think if that is the case: what is so fortunate about the day after yesterday.

Money rains down on rooftops. Trickling into evaporation. In other words, capitalism sucks.

Going to a house of justice can blow your mind, perhaps your heart. It's fine if you are desensitised, aren't we all in this logical world? But so long, you know what is logical for the world.

This house of justice, one out of many, resides incognito. Yet, it is well known. It's advertisement is the good of people's heart, perhaps their curiosity. The passing of word of mouth shines this house of justice. But what is this house of justice?

A block building, nothing for the eyes to rest on. And yet, once inside abundant needs are suplied. Cheap to expensive, yet they are free to take for the needy. Ah, a charity you might say. Not quite, tis a house of justice.

This house accomodates objects. Love, we might say. It welcomes those in need. A person beaten nearly to death by a loved one is welcomed. A person stripped of fortune by maniacs is welcomed. A person dying, with nowhere else to go and nothing else to lose, is welcomed. This house gives no charity, only what is rightfully yours: justice.

Thank you, God. There is still goodness in the hearts of living people.

Now, it has to be closed down. It has to disappear. For it brings no joy, nor profit. For it is a waste of time. For it is deficit. "This house of justice is only a building raking in fortunes with no visible outcome."

Thus spoke corporate devils.

Mission Australia is corporate. A truth lies beneath happy faces.

The rooftops of a corporate charity organisations shelter the needy from the burden of money. They say, those who do not profit shall be closed down. Thus is the will of the board. But, what is profit for charity. Is it not the welfare of those who would die if courage be with them?

Results are demanded. Apparantly, these corporate devils think results are overnight success. How is it a child could become an adult in one night?

Happy are those in the advertisement of corporate devils. Cursory smiles they are, in expense of needy ones it is.

I say, let us stop to think. Start helping, those incognito house of justice. Help corporate devils for they are also living people. But open your eyes to others.

I came to Donated Goods Centre in Sefton. It has helped many. And it will help many more, if it was not to be closed down. Simple it is. They demand nothing. Just your spare time.

It's not charity.

www.makeadifference.com.au

2005-10-21T19:31:00.000-07:00

Silent Screams

As I watched them talking

I see myself still.

Again and again knowledge escapes me,

questions elude me

I kept on asking how it happened.

Just, simple, I lay still.

Nodding, mumbling, laying still.

Though, I very much like to participate.

But, did my age affected me?

Did it betray me?

Or was it just me? Detached, uninterested, uninteresting.

So many things to grasp, but I feel only air.

So little time to acknowledge my self-deprivation,

but I have a lifetime of thoughts.

2005-10-20T16:36:00.000-07:00

He said:

Dear God,I promise I will never waste my food no matter how bad it can taste and how full I may be. I pray that He will protect this little boy, guide and deliver him away from his misery. I pray that we will be more sensitive towards the world around us and not be blinded by our own selfish nature and interests.

2005-10-18T20:40:00.000-07:00

Reserved for Busway

I'll continue my very importante blog. Today I may, or may not, introduce you to 1 aspect of Indonesian (or Jakarta) life. THE BUSWAY.

The "Busway" or what snobbish houte-couture people would call Trans-Jakarta, is a relatively new installation to Jakarta's stuffy infrastructure. It was planned, built, and loved by the governor of Jakarta, Sutiyoso.
Busway is basically a future-interconnected lines of bus routes designed to take citizens of Jakarta to bus-stops located within the city. It is nothing really. But, it takes up a third of boulevards and has its own lane.

Right now, I am concerned in giving you the best guides as to how best to use the Trans-Jakarta transport system.
It has two stopping stations located in Blok M (South Jakarta) and Kota (North Jakarta). The fare is Rp 2.500,- (30 Australian cents) to all stops-that means there is no zones.
The bus-stops are located in the middle of the Boulevard (from Blok M-Jl. Sudirman-Kota)so that means you may have to cross a bridge from the pedestrian road, if you can call it that. A lot of the bus-stops have no seats. So, good luck when it gets rush hour... better bring a pain killer for your soon-to-be tired legs.
There are 20 stops. But the best ones are Monas, HI, Tosari, Harmoni. Well, simply because it's close to where things happen.
The tickets have no function, almost. You buy a ticket in the booth, and you're supposed to put it in the portal... but that's it. You don't get to use it again. Well, except if you purchase a multiple travel ticket for Rp 5.000,-.

For tourists, this Busway thing might be fun. For locals... the only entertainment in transportation. I and my friend love to ride the Busway. Because it feels like bussess in other developed countries.

One more thing. The "GRAND" tips!!
As earlier mentioned. Rush hour is hell. You might not be able to get a bus towards Blok M after 5. Strangely enough though, bussess are always almost empty towards Kota. That means if you're stuck, say, in Tosari and you desperately want to go to Blok M, rather than be stuck in a crowd waiting for a bus (imagine all that sweat and fragrance), you better take a detour to Kota, and get a bus there.
And if you're travelling with a friend, this means you can take turn in waiting in queue.

Well, that's all for now. I will get out to LEGO world and live.

2005-10-17T22:37:00.000-07:00

This is an image... of...

2005-10-17T22:20:00.000-07:00

"I'm doomed"

That's the title, or the best that I can make. It's so dumb. I really don't want to be in cyber-space community. Probably I'm just to stupid to understand the sheer weight or impact it has... on everything now. Or I'm just scared.

I want to make films. Or moving pictures. With characters. With stories. With music. Maybe also with a little romance. But noooooooooooooo..... I have to think about what I have to become in the next 5 years, because what the net has "offered" us. I like green meadows, if that's a metaphore.

Well to repeat the title, "Doomed I am"

2005-10-17T00:00:00.000-07:00

Instructions

This will be the first thing you will ever see when you read Andra's blog. You might wonder what in the cosmos should you do with it. You've seen gzillions of blogs. You've read bjillions of thought-provoking web-scribbles. So, what should you make out of this insignificant blog?

This is the user manual so you would know the precise reason why you are wasting your time reading this rather than wasting your time in a dark room full of smoke and alcohol (which probably would be a good idea right about now).

Numero uno!
All you have to do is open http://whattoask.blogspot.com and wait for something to pop out. If it does not... there's always www.starwars.com

Numero duo!
Pick a post. If you know that already, then there's a good chance that you know more than me on everything blogging has to offer. So in the comments section, you could give me some tips, eh.

Numero trio!
See the comments list. Read them. Write them! Then you conquer.
Your comments are dully appreciated. It is like mutual symbiosis.

Last step...
Turn off the computer... and step outside your house, then realise everything is LEGO... your imagination.

What-to-ask is a blog for those who feel that they had something in their mind, but didn't quite put a finger on it. You just want to say something... but what! I made this blog, to intrude your mind. To jog it back to life... with very importante blogs.

Some are just pictures. Some are just words. Some may be whole articles (once a week). And some maybe... the things you know but never asked.

Have a nice day. And enjoy life.