When archuleta tells me..

They don't always happen when you ask..
And its easy to give in to your fears..
But when you're blinded by your pain..
Cant see the way, get through the rain..

A small but still, resilient voice,
Says hope is very near..



..I do believe.

am moving in, on, and out

I start packing things up, bits by bits. My books, piles of paper, tools, magazines, and other stuff I've been buying since last year. It's kinda sad. I don't know why. I know that I'll be moving out, I'll have to, and I know whichever place I'm gonna move in to later, it will be better than this one.

But somehow, you miss things even if it does harm to you. There were super emotional days, super happy days, and it all happened in this room. This room was what I missed when I got back home the other day. I rest my head in this room, and it's been nearly a year.

People come and go. I come and go.

6 months ago, my old roomie stayed with me. He was nice. He moved out, and my new roomie moved in. This one is tough. I can go thru a list, but I kinda let it all go now. Nevertheless, he helped me when I got sick. It's one of the very few reasons I still want to cope with him.

So, soon, as I booked my ticket last night: I'm gonna fly home on 7th May, I'm gonna leave this room empty, move my stuff to several places, put it for a while in Linda's place, maybe also in Mr. Woon's place, my lecturer, so I don't need to rent another room anytime soon, at least not until I got words from NUS, whether I'm in or not.

I'm gonna rent a single room.

I've been packing for several days, just several few things first. Tidying things up, starting to think about the way I'm gonna move several big things like rice cooker, electric kettle, and my lovely Maxim frying pan. Starting to think of what I'm gonna buy for my family in Jakarta. Starting to think of going to a lot of places no matter what on earth happens before I'm back to Jakarta.

Thinking what could come in days from now.

Anything could happen.




Gawd. I'm gonna miss this room so much.

jakarta

Have you ever had this feeling that you were so sure about what you did, with all the consequences, careful thinking and deep self-reflecting, and now, you start regretting it, pieces by pieces. Regretting things you did. Wishing you did a slightly different way of doing something, which now you believe will make a great difference.

That you have a completely different way of thinking about that, now.

That you hope, really hope that you don't need to pay that off. That you hope nothing is damaged. Nothing is broken. Things should have changed, but at that particular moment, you wish it didn't. You don't want to pay it off.

Then. You come to think that you couldn't have been wrong. You did the calculations. Was it only temporary explosion of emotion? Or was it really logically thought of? You now insist that you did the right thing, that you couldn't miss it.

But deep. Deep in your heart. You still hope you didn't change a thing.

Am I just that lonely to come up with this thought? Or is it just right to question? Shit. I hate scrolling down thru sms list in my inbox. I hate it because it reminds me of something you did wrong, something that happened a very very long time ago but has a very good corelation with what just happened, something about all those blue days, all those sms-es that occupy some parts of your brain and have been in sleeping state all these times, something about everything you did, everything that happened.

800 sms-es are a lot of days. Months. A lot of events. A lot of ppl. A lot of places. A lot of afternoons. A lot of chances. A lot of emotions. A lot of thinking as if it were just yesterday. Now I don't have any idea what to do with those sms-es. Do I need to delete it? Do I have to read it? Do I have to.. look back and think?

It all happened in Jakarta.

I miss it, there. I can't say much. I just, miss it. All those afternoons. All those blue days. All those dramas. All those moments happened last time. All that I miss.



I hope I can be back, soon.