do you want fries with that?

have you heard about this documentary? i'm pretty sure you've at least heard about - if not yet read - this book.

they are just two of the too many reasons of why i despise fast food, mcdonald's in particular. i have been nowhere near any mcdonalds chains since i read parts of fast food nation around one and a half year ago. if my friends want to go there, i usually says, "i have issues." and they would either try to find somewhere else to eat or goes there anyway, so that at the end i have to watch them eating those yucky food while i refuse to do it and prefer to have a late meal instead elsewhere.

i used to love fast food so much when i was a kid, of course. mcdonalds, kfc, wendy's, you name it. i collected the toys from happy meals, i even had birthday parties in those franchises during my elementary school years. not only that, i hated veggies, and was a hardcore meat-eater that my parents called me a natural-born carnivore. i didn't remember exactly when did i change my eating habit and became a healthy-food seeker, but right now i will almost eat any kind of veggies one would offer, except papaya leaves. ugh.

but believe me, when i said yucky food, i did mean yucky food. i'm not just talking about cholesterol or sugar level and calories now. you don't just keep eating your burger when you know what you're actually eating contains - literally - shit, do you?

some goes to the extreme, and turn into a vegan. i still love to eat meat, but now i become more conspicious and aware. i don't want to be fooled to eat a meat-flavored chunk of junk on any given day. i still eat french fries now and then, although god knows what they are actually made of. and you wonder why they taste so good. they're freedom fries!

the past and the next life

if there is such thing as reincarnation, what would be my past life? and better yet, what would be my next life?

the questions popped out after i browsed this site. ok, it's not cool to be a narcist cat as a representation of you after you dead. surely i hope i'd be born again as yet another human. as for the past life, uhm.. i'm not sure about this one. if i consistently experienced a deja vu everytime i see a lush prairie, would that means that i was a cow in my past life? ouch.

i once tried this trivial quiz. you know, the usual stuff. i type in my name and voila!, after i clicked the button below it, i suddenly was a narrow-minded lawyer in my past life. that's not neat. ok, it does sounds cool that i was a lawyer, but a narrow-minded one? so i hit the back button and tried it once again. this time i was still a lawyer, but now a beloved one. err.. aren't they opposites of each other? apparently the generator only construct the first phrase randomly, and they put it along with the second phrase. so i was still a lawyer, but i can be a dangerous one, a loyal one, or even a demented one. good thing i wasn't being obsessed with this topic and ended up downloading this software.

there was a movie, i forgot the title, i only remember that meryl streep was starring. anyway the story is about these two dead people who found themselves in a place somewhere between earth and heaven/hell, where they're about to testify their life in front of the angels so they can decide whether that particular person should go to heaven, hell, or reborn on earth. before the judgement day, they can see their past lives through one big screen. meryl streep was an 18th century home-mistress, while the co-star (i forgot his name) was an indigenous african person chased by a tiger. each of them had their reason of why they were then being reborn as another person.

i then wonder, what had that poor man (or cow, for that matter) done for they're reborn as me? was it because (s)he's narrow-minded? eating too much grass? maybe, afterall, i wasn't a lawyer or a cow. maybe i was elvis as he'd questioned. once famous, and soon to be infamous. i hope not. and now that i am me, what would be my next fate? it won't do any harm if i'll be a movie star. or even a bird. probably a wizard? will do, as long as i'm not a martian.

oh well.

on being myself

it's very quiet here. and yet soothing. i've been wandering my mind for almost an hour, sights and smiles appear now and then. the ambience has shun my routines when my insomnia relapse just like now. instead, i've been thinking about me.

myself.

there are quite a lot of different remarks appointed to me. although i might not be agree with all of them, as one would expect, i can relate myself to most of them.

at times, i can be as if i'm the happiest person on earth, particularly when i'm laughing. my friends told me that my laugh sometimes sounds like a dying hyena. it's true. when i laugh, i can't be care less of people surround me. the sound that come out is high-pitched and irritatingly annoying, people just can't decide whether they should stop me or pity me. but it's ok, because every time i laugh, i laugh heartily. it's bombastic, but it also shows that i appreciate whoever makes the joke (or for certain cases, whoever does a silly thing). people usually laugh at my laugh, which i consider as a good thing. i feel good when i can bring laughter to others.

i can be a total bastard too. definitely not something that i can be proud of, but sometimes i just can't help it. people who are close to me know exactly what i mean by this. i do feel like a jerk and blameworthy of course, and believe me, when i act like a bastard, i hate myself more than ever. if i were them, i'd knock myself out and wish me go to hell. but, well, every so often my ego blindfolds my rationality, despite the fact that later on i'd be disgruntled. apologies might not be enough, yet they're good moves to start. and i try to make it up with other things.

i'm also a loner. distinct to several, probably no so to others. i always enjoy the time when i'm by myself, when i can do whatever i want and think whatever i believe and i don't have to worry about others. i'm sure everyone does. i love and enjoy crowds, but only when the vibes click. i'm an introvert who like to tell people about his own life through a blog. sounds strange, but believe me, i love secrets. i have many.

in spite of all, my friends remark me as an easygoing, love-to-hang-out-and-having-fun kinda guy. well, i do love to chill. they also said that i'm a good listener. might be true. when someone goes to me and blabbering their problems or whatever, i try my best to listen without interrupting too much, to give opinion or comments without judging. moreover, they alleged me as nice. very relative, but i do hope it's true. probably it's because i rarely show my anger, and i believe in the ground of to respect.

there are a great deal of other remarks, but i think i'll just stop here. i'm content.

three seconds looking for a clue

"hey, how's it goin?"

i looked up. a guy around my age was standing next to my chair. i was in the computer lab deliberately doing one of my papers, and this guy, whose name i couldn't even remember, asked me how's it going. what's going? going where? how on earth should i know what the hell is he talking about? what is this 'it' he's referring to? i've probably heard the line hundreds of time before, every time i bump into someone i know around campus. people just love to use that line, or sometimes they use the alternative line how've you been or whassup. the latter is just as dull as the first line. whassup. what is up. the ceiling, stupid! the sky! ever heard of it before? d-uh! if they use the other one, how've you been, at least i can perfectly tell what are they referring to. there's the word 'you' in the line, and it obviously means the subject of the conversation is me (unless they're actually talking to the person behind me). although it's none of their business either, whether i've been craving for food or been wanting to kick their hideous asses for ten years.

he's white, brown-haired, wearing a fade grey jacket on top of his orange t-shirt. his face does look familiar to me, but i couldn't remember his name or where had i met him. i tried to recall my dreary memory: anthony. no. that was one of my classmates last term, couldn't be him. martina. he's a guy, hello? hang woon. no, this guy is white, but definitely not a chinese. jason. yes, maybe it's jason, maybe i'd seen him around at the coffee meeting we're having every wednesday night. he's one of the committee member. but wait, no, jason's supposed to be skinny, and i remember he's kinda, err, smelly. while this guy seemed like the kinda guy that take shower everyday. so who the hell is he? sean? david? roger? dick? well, he does look like a dick, but i don't think that's his name, though.

suddenly i remember, i once had a little conversation with him when we were about to enter a pub crawl around four months ago. we were in the queue, he was in front of me or i was in front of him (like there's any other option?). whatever. i wonder how come he still recognized me after such a long time, even my hair was different then. he asked if i have any cigarette, and i said no, and he asked again if i have a lighter, and again i said no, and the chat went on to an interrogation of why and how i quit smoking and him saying that'd be one of his new year resolution. dumbass.

so how's it goin. what should i answer? the typical one would be 'great' or 'fine' and bounce the question back to him. dull, dull, dull. i could say: "it's bad. i've been missing my girlfriend so much and the cold's killin me and this paper's due in three hours." but i was afraid he's gonna give me one of those why-did-i-greet-this-weirdo-in-the-first-place looks, so i hesitated. i could also say: "hey whassup man, busy tryin to quit smoking, eh? remember the time when we had that little convo? it was chillin, man! we should do that more often!" but luckily i still had my insanity at that time so he didn't think i'm a lunatic and thought he could've had ignored me and went straight to one of the computers and had a good cry of how bad his gpa is instead of said hi to me. kyle. kyle! that's it! his name is kyle! hey, after all, i do have a good memory, eh? heheh. anyway, back to the question. heck, it doesn't matter anyway. so after this deep, heart-staggering and mind-exhausting thought, i vigorously replied,

"awesome."

fact of the day

what are the top three features do north americans see when they vote for a politician?

1. speech ability
(fair enough. good articulation, vocabulary, body languange, persuasion technique, but not necessarily the content of the speech.)

2. hair color
(you would expect something like the politician's proposed policies to fill this position. but no. a dark-haired politician is more likely to be voted than a blonde one, regardless of sex.)

3. height
(yes, height. apparently north americans associate a good politician as a charismatic one: attractive, persuasive, dark-haired and tall. most of americans think that all of their presidents are above 6 ft tall. the reality: just more than half of them are qualified. speaking of camouflage.)

and now the big question: what about the case of indonesia? please comment.

wanted!

[ teh botol. siomay. batagor. martabak. gado-gado. ketoprak. nasi uduk. nasi ulam. nasi bungkus. tempe bacem. nasi gila. bakso. sate ayam. sate komo. ayam suharti. ayam taliwang. bakmi gm. tata ribs. gultik. soto ayam. coto makasar. soto gebrak. soto kudus. mie yamin. es teler. es palubutung. es campur. asinan. manisan. rujak cingur. rujak buah. juhi. gudeg. sate padang. sop konro. bubur menteng. pecel. ayam bakar. bakpau. lumpia. pempek. otak-otak. es doger. tongseng. pastel. pisang kipas. tahu isi. kerupuk. emping. mie ayam. bebek bengil. sea food muara angke. rendang. sayur lodeh. sayur bening. bihun goreng. pepes ikan. tempe mendoan. ] *can't think of others due to an excessive pang of starvation*

and so you've guessed. list of food that i am dying to have right now? close enough. list of food that appeared on my last night dream? ah there. and i'm not joking, i was swimming in my own puddle of drool last night.

for those of you who are still live in indonesia, just be thankful of you eat. i mean it.

_______________

update!

i forgot one very important point on my wanted! list.

bu relo.
(an amazing freelance massage-therapist whose touch can be a pure bliss.) there. i just made her sounds more like phoebe buffay. heheh.

manic me

people whose best hope for a connection to other human beings lay in elaborating for themselves an elegiac mode of relatedness, as if everyone's life were already over.
-- fragment from russell banks' affliction, quoted from a story from adam haslett's you are not a stranger here 'my father's business'.

if only life's like that. a current read, it might be so good you can feel emotionally involved with the characters, you can still spend your time with them, but you have nothing to do with their faith. you're only an outsider, with perspectives over what you are reading. and then you'd come to the end of the book, and goes on with your own life.

there are times when i'm just tired of being me. not that i'm not familiar with the grief, or the numbness, in fact i'm getting used to it. but it only takes a look into the mirror for me to realize i've become what i had (at least tried) avoided to be. at times, i browsed through my mostly visceral experiences, tried to appreciate them, as one would suggest. i should be grateful, i know, for what i've been through shaped me into what i am today. but then again, i'm questioning myself right now, this is not the person that i was supposed to be.

i'm afraid i'm drowning deeper. i'm afraid i've blithely lost orientation of what deep water am i in. and my frenzied energy will become useless.

do you know what i need? i need to stop thinking. yes. and maybe stop looking into my reflection too. and i won't worry too much about my life again. or my existence.

the mind of the alienated

i was drowning. i was dreaming about reaching the water's surface, where if i could, i could make all the fishes deep down below me jealous, as they will never experience the freedom of fresh air, as they will always trapped inside the sea, waiting to the end of their lifes, waiting for their destiny. they knew, their lifes were already in the line, nothing of whatever they do will ever change it.

i was drowning. i was dreaming about reaching the water's surface, where if i could, i could be saved by a fisherman's boat. i could sense the boat was floating, the fisherman was there with his only son, trying to catch more fishes but there were none. they were nowhere near the boat and the fisherman was beginning to worry what his wife would say, for him to go home almost empty-handed again. he was beginning to worry, but he knew there was hope. a hope for a better living. a hope for a better future.

i was drowning. i was dreaming about reaching the water's surface, where if i could, i could swim to one of the beaches miles away. i could sense the beach was lush, white sands and coconut trees, wind breeze and the smell of sea. i could feel it, a little child walking alone on the water edge, trying to find some seashells, just like what his mother had promised, there will be many of them along the beach. but there were none. all he could find was some leaves, small rocks and pieces of wood. where are the seashells, mother? where are the pretty seashells you have promised me? he began to cry, and weep. if he had learned one lesson, he had learned about life. it was not going to be as what he had expected.

i was drowning. i was dreaming about reaching the water's surface, where if i could, i could be in the land, a land with mountains and rivers and forests. i could feel it, i could be next to a man running across the forest, where in his mind he could escape from the real world, the world he thought he was failing. he was running. he was running stretched-arms, between the tree branches and the peeking chipmunks, dry leaves at the ground and parasites on the tree trunks. he was screaming, trying to find a relief, trying to push away all the anger, hurts, envies, grudges, regrets and dissapointments in his heart, and just sucked the air he was breathing loosely. could he stop the moment and feel like this forever? could he erase his past and start a new page? could he, afterall, live on? he wished he could answer all these questions with a single yes, but he knew, it would not be that easy.

will i ever be survive?

new year greeting.. (warning: full of virus)

i had nothing better to do. just press the red button to hear my lousy voice, and.. err.. tell me what do you think about it. you'd say it's stupid. i'd say it's a fun way to start 2004!
[it's in indonesian, btw]

audio post powered by audblog