Break , Broke , Broken

It was a rainy and gloomy day, and by rainy, I mean like super wet. If I'm not mistaken, it was raining since the night before. Non-stop. The weather was truly acting like a bi*ch, the wind was like blowing every student's skirt and the rain made us all drenched. This accident happened during Maths lesson, which was the 4th period.

When I got into the class, the desks were all everywhere, messy. I threw off my umbrella to the floor and started to placed those desks back to their appropriate places. Everything was fine, until I realised that I accidentally put one of the desk at the top of my umbrella. But still, I had not realised how much damage I had done to him (yes, I refer to my umbrella as him). I was having a mock test for Statistics tho, so I didn't really pay attention to anything else.

After finishing the mock, I went out of the class and yet, it was still raining. I tried to open my umbrella, but he couldn't be opened. My umbrella was really cool, actually, we just needed to press this one button, and he could open and close himself straight away. But that day, I pressed the button many many times and still, he didn't work. He could be opened, but he would close himself straight away. I was so... hopeless, then I met this one friend of mine. She discovered that the handle was somehow bent and I realised, that might be because of the pressure of the desk, since the desk itself was quite heavy. Then she did something that caused the problem got bigger and more complicated.

She twisted my umbrella.

At that time, I still had not realised that it could become that complicated. Then I asked my friend to fix it and so on. But everything we did was completely, totally, useless. Nothing happened, then I began to think about something beyond human stupidity. I was thinking of twisting it back.

Then there I went, twisting my umbrella.

Foolish, you may call me.

Then he became totally broken.

Break. Broke. Broken.

R.I.P My Dearest Disney Umbrella, Dmitry

July 2006 - May 21^st , 2010

Patting Elsa

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Yes, as the title says there, I did pat Elsa.
For you guys who have known me for such a long long time ago, I'm pretty sure that you all know how I hated cats. Uh, to be honest, yeah, I was afraid of cats.

This was all began when I was about 4-5 years old, I can't even remember. I got this one stray cat, named him Milky-Man, then one day he died. He was crashed tragically by a taxi in the middle of the night. Since then, I didn't know why, but I always had a bad feeling about cat. Seemed like the ghost of Milky-Man was haunting me in every single cat that I saw. A bit exaggerating, you may think, but seriously, it is true. I once cried on Acel's shoulder because there was a cat stepping on my shoes and staring at me at school. Nah, it didn't do anything to me. I was being too paranoid. Freak.

When I moved to Auckland, I lived in this homestay. They got two cats, twinnies :) Names Restus and Elsa. If you noticed, I once mentioned the late Restus. He's the boy. I was not afraid of him, but I did not make any contact with him either. He annoyed me sometimes, like by coming to my room and jumping on my bed. Huh. But still, home felt so empty without him, because usually Elsa and Restus fought for food or some other things. Now that Restus had gone, Elsa is all alone by herself. Feeling empty and lonely, that is.

And still, one year and about three months, no contact with those cats. Maybe I did touch them. Just a bit. Probably. Not even sure.

Well, today is an exception. I have overcome my problem with cats. I don't know why, I don't know what I was thinking, I just called Elsa when we were still gathering around the table. And yes, I patted her. I was a bit nervous tho, I was afraid, scared and even my hand was drenched of sweat. Nevertheless, I did it. I patted her and she seemed to like it. I patted her under her chin and felt her soft and fluffy fur. I never knew she got such a nice fur there :) And it felt so great afterwards. Extremely great. I felt like being a winner of a battle inside myself. A battle between my pride and anxiety. Courage and cowardliness.


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Courage and Pride

A real courage is when you know you're licked before you begin but you begin anyway and you see it through no matter what. - Atticus Finch, To Kill A Mocking Bird

I learnt this quote from the Harper Lee's novel, To Kill A Mockingbird, and to be honest, at first I disagreed. I mean, I didn't understand why you kept on fighting when you knew you were losing. I thought it was useless. And such a thing could not be called a real courage, it was something you called imprudence.

Then today, I realised that I was the one who was being foolish.

If you stop fighting, at the very end you will just blame yourself. Blaming those who win upon you, blaming God for not letting you win, blaming yourself for being a fool. You will regret all things that happened. But if you fight until your last breath, even though you lose, you don't have anything to regret. You will be proud of yourself for being able to give your best. The greatest winning may not be the thing that you want at the beginning, but it may be something within yourself. Part of yourself that is able to hold your head upright. Part of yourself that is always called pride.

Yes, human is a very selfish creature. Even at the end, all things that we fight for will bring us back to ourselves. Humans fight for their prides.

I wrote this not because of I had nothing to do, no, this post would be my mark, my promise to the world, that what I feel for him is real and thus, I will fight for him til the end. I will fight until my last breath, even though I know she likes him as well and he probably likes her in return. Yes, despite the fact that my chance is really low. Be ready, Mr 17, xoxo

Gue Cewek

Gue cewek bukan karena gue ga pipis berdiri, tapi karena gue lebih punya hati.

guys, no offense, you suck.