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Thursday, December 15, 2005
downfall

Pace

funny how it all comes down to this.

i knew it will happen. the inevitable. the thought of just letting it happen did slip into my mind. it's not like what i'd do would change the end result.
fuckin coward, you piece of shit. not even a fight? cummon, show that at least you still have a dignity, that you at least try to strategize a counter-attack.
so i tried. to no avail, but yes i tried.

i'm a people gazer. this past week, i still gaze at random people, but i focus more on people that, when i look at them, this thought comes in my mind.
i wish i would never end up being like them.
harsh? maybe. but i can't help it. starts from that, and it invariably turns to more thoughts.
how would it feels like, if i am them? maybe the end result of what would happen is going to be very different. maybe things will turn out to be easier. maybe it is better to have a life like theirs.
i would watch them from the corner of my eyes, framing every single detail that i could possibly notice. their tanned necks. the coffee stains. their stubble. the way they walk. the way they brush their hair. the way they wear their crooked glasses, ripped jeans, and baggy shirts. the way they notice someone is watching them closely.

more thoughts in my mind.
where did they grow up? what were their parents? did they have a happy childhood? were they famous during highschool? were they feel alienated? if they look at me, what kind of thoughts would come to their mind?
i thought again,
what would they do if they are put into my situation?
and i continue doing what i have been doing. trying my best to concentrate. one, two.

flashes of random, almost forgotten memories flickered through my head.
i was a sixth grader, and it was the very last day of my elementary school years. everyone in the class was flocked together on the main hall's stage and given a small envelope which contains a piece of paper declaring whether we pass or we fail. from the stage i could see my mother looking intently at me amidst the crowd of anxious parents. my heart was beating very hard. i thought to myself, this is it. the moment of humiliation has arrived. suddenly the school's principal announced that we can open the envelopes we're holding as of that second. everyone abruptly tore their envelopes and let out screams of joy. some were hugging their neighbouring friends. some ran directly to their parents. i was taking my time, opening the envelope slowly. a friend of mine asked me what was my result. i shrugged with apprehension before i flipped my paper and read the result.
another one.
i didn't want to open the door of my room. my parents just came home from getting my school report. this was probably when i was in the tenth grade. i thought i bombed my math class, and i didn't want to hear my parents' lecture about it. I didn't want to hear that the next term i have to take an extra math tutorial after school. i waited for a knock on the door for a long time.
and another one.
i was on a small boat, on the way to gili air island from lombok, sitting facing my dad. we were on a holiday celebrating my graduation from high school. the boat's machine was roaring a deafening noise, the boat was bumping everytime we hit a wave, and the sea water splashed all over the place making the trip less than peaceful—but otherwise the vastly blue-green sea, blue sky and blazing sunshine made the circumstances beautifully perfect. i smiled to my dad. he smiled back. i had way too many thoughts in my mind to enjoy the view. my dad had just given me the talk. his experiences and legacy, his wishes and hopes for me. it wasn't demanding, or prepared in any kind of way that would ruin the holiday mood we're in. he was so calm. he had his way of starting this conversation—or one way monologue, rather—lucidly, as if it's just another chat we have. i didn't scowl, but he certainly put the pressure on me. i continued to gaze at the tiny dot we're heading.
and another one.
the cab finally arrived. their luggage was ready. "so, this is it," remarked my mother. i hugged her. she whispered something to my ear. i turned to my dad and hugged him. he, too, whispered something. i nodded before i let them go. "take care, buddy," the cab driver said, before he shut his door and drove away from the culdesac.
i couldn't concentrate, but i have to. three, four.

i kept thinking to myself,
—there's a reason for everything. this is not the end of the world.
—yeah, sure, but it's close enough.
—not that close that you wouldn't be able to rise again. think about the lessons you've learned from all this. think about how you will surprise yourself later on.
—that's a tall order.
—you have the power.
five, six. you do have the power, mil. you just need to believe in yourself.


# | posted by emil @ 12/15/2005 05:04:00 a.m. |

Monday, December 05, 2005
before they melted

snowing

snow on leaves

st. andrews playground

what remains

the bunny

white cross - dec 1st

red cross - dec 1st


# | posted by emil @ 12/05/2005 11:37:00 p.m. |