Rudy Yuan’s Streak oF BluE

I had known for a long time that I could stay inside my house for a long time. I am used to solitude and kinda like it. It gives me the freedom to do what I like and how I like it (I’m on top or maybe do it sideways… whatever I like. NAUGHTY! I’m not talking sex position!)

Of course I enjoy seeing friends too, since I can poke them anytime I like when they are around (Poking them through Facebook never gives me the satisfaction… poke poke). And of course there is always the gossip part.

Anyhow, I developed a theory that the longer one stays in the house, the more eccentric his behavior becomes. Here are some examples.

I stayed in my room the entire Sunday (again!?) (which also implicitly tells that I miss the church (again!?)). I didn’t wake up late though. I turned the laptop on, checked on new messages, logged into the messenger (replied some messages from my fans), put a vague status, and went to sleep again (while ignoring some persistent incoming fans’ messages - sorry fans…). Geez, it felt good to re-sleep (there’s no such word in English Dictionary, try my own creation dictionary).

The sleep didn’t last long, something felt not right, almost like guilt. I woke up and found myself staring at the laptop (what a beautiful laptop a Vaio is). And then I did something amazing: I took a bath! On other circumstances, when I hadn’t had any plan to go out, I would usually take the bath much more later. Today’s gonna be special for my doing that, I thought.

But I was wrong. Right after I took the bath, the heat started to attack. And the peaceful mind of mine that had given rise to my desire to be clean that day just simply vanished. So it’s better to be a little bit lazy somehow, right?

I did something abnormally innovative though. I took out my camera, and started taking shots of myself, trying on several face expressions and body languages (what the heck?). I concluded that I looked best when I was acting it cool. Too much laugh would stretch my eyes thin (barely visible!) and too serious would make me look old. Just a hint of sly smile was the right ingredient. I’m thinking of submitting it to the modeling agency. LOL. R u kiddin me!?

Several results of that photo session had landed on several places: on my Friendster profile, on the YM’s Photo Sharing feature with my friends (plural, noted, all girls… and some boys.. hahaha), on the YM’s display image, and… on some webs with parental control access (LOL). Well, the shot took quite a while, but sorting them and editing them took much longer. Although I was not that professional in this kind of thing, I was quite satisfied with the result (how not whenever a narcissistic looks at himself?? come on, you do too, right!?). If you had different opinions about them, keep it to yourself and lock it away, this is not democratic blog. Hhahaha.

Of course this was not that weird compared to an experience of a friend. (This story is PG-rated and had been certified by Ditto Prabowo’s gossiping community) One of my friend, say M (not the true initial), was so lazy to go out of his room that he decided it was more convenient to pee in a bottle and put it in the room behind the door (maybe on the thought that he might forget to throw it away). Later, unfortunately, the chief circulator of gossip came into his room and was, not surprisingly, thristy. He almost mistook the brown liquid or urine for green tea! And thus that was how the story went circulating in the mailing list of our university batch.

Weird things not only happen if you stay too long inside. It could start right not long after you entered certain places. Well, it was not strange if weird things happened once every while, but what if it happened EVERYtime you got into THE place. Take the car of a friend of ours.

There was nothing weird with the car. Small city car with metalic color and (don’t remember how many) mini-statues of Doraemon on the dashboard. Put in the right ingredients of people (I think ‘T’ should be present, ‘R’ was a pleasant option [<- definitely the other 'R', not me, guys!], and the owner himself), soon enough they would readily start conversing about the world of ’sex education’. Position of the seat doesn’t matter as long as ‘T’ got the direct blow of the air conditioner (which was pretty everywhere on the seats! He would start getting cold and blurt something worth scandalizing or scandalized). Last time they discussed some insightful knowledge such as 5000 rupiah service by Lawang occupiers or horny Shutter-like lady ghost who haunted the car, waiting the owner to stick his tongue out and started oral (PG-rated), among many things else.

This had also provided us The Ditto Prabowo gossiping comunity award winning scandal, which was the shocking revelation that ‘T’ had actually had an experience of certain pleasure in certain pleasuring place (I couldn’t put it more vague than this!!), which, like I told you, was extracted by several minutes of cold-AC-blowing to him (though I got this only from the chief circulator of gossip himself, not directly..). This put the mailing list member into havoc for a while…

Let’s switch to a more children-friendly topic, alright!?

Weird things do exist in the Busway though. (Busway was the current Jakarta’s only systematic bus transport service).

The earliest weird Busway experience for me is the swinging man incident.

A thin man was standing in the alley of the bus right in front of where I sat. You know how (especially Asian) busdriver drove, right. They braked and accelerated unforgivingly. This man, with each hand holding a handle on the left and right side, magically danced along with the braking and accelerating of the bus. Since the brake and acceleration happened quite often, he would swing his body backward, arching his body like a rubber, then sway forward, then took several small quick steps back and forth, moved and waved his body back and forth, like the man had no power to stand still on his feet and keep his body rigid. He was practically dancing to the rhythm of the bus. It was deeply abnormal for him to move like that in the bus and damn making me welled with laughter. How often do you see man “dancing” in the bus??

But I tried to suppress my laughter, so did my friend who sat beside me, until I caught a look from a girl across my seat. We just looked at each other, and somehow understood each other, and almost simultaneously bursted the laugh we had been suppressing. I was more reserved (cool, remember?) by turning my head sideways to hide the laugh. The girl, on the other hand, laughed uncontrollably to her mother arm. I avoided her glance afterwards to suppress more laugh, but how could I, when the man kept swaying along the way? And geez, the girl was kind of cute..

Nothing happened though. Her mother kept asking his girl why she laughed so hard and I kept noticing she took a peep on me (hahah, not again,,, after previous blog???)

*SIGH* I’ve typed enough. I still need to do something else!! So happy digging through the rubbish!

I just told a friend (*cough* moty *cough*) some minutes ago that i would not update my blog today… and here I am now, typing this. (HEY, by “today” I meant Sept 2. It is past 0000hr now, it’s Sept 3! So logically I don’t break any promises, unlike him, who broke his promises… [I know you're reading this and you truly break my heart... HHAHAHAAH Loh?]).

Never mind that.

I tried something new today. I went Go-Kart-ing!

The place was called Speedy Kart (is it?), located in the Pancoran area of MT Haryono (I’m talking Jakarta of course).

My taxi stopped in front of the complex that held the Go-Kart arena without going in. The driver was not smart enough to have confident to drive into the first entrance nor have the courage to find the next entrance. So I had to walk that several meters that made my beloved Lee-Cooper jeans dusty. Luckily I didn’t wear my beloved Nike too… (what the?)

The place was not impressive though. I walked through the door and readily went into the spectator platform.It was filled with occasional tables and plastic chairs. Further from the door was the track itself, bounded to the spectator platform by iron railing as high as an adult’s waist. To the left was the ticketing platform (shabby one: dimly lit and not so enthusiastic cashier.. not pretty too.. sigh).

The place was dead empty, except for a group of people sitting on one table. They instantaneously looked at me as I came in (probably because they were so bored of the lonesome atmosphere of the anteroom, or it was because I wore a yellow bought-in-Singapore Giordano T-Shirt that made me so shiny, OR maybe I was attractive… The latter was more likely… hahaha) and stood by the entrance, observing my surrounding .

I tried to act cool. I averted my glance, heaved my chest to its full extent and walked confidently/elegantly/casually (it’s not multiple choice; I applied all of them) to the railing to see the track. I exhaled deeply and thankfully as I reached the railing successfully without embarassing myself like tripped on my feet, or danced my hip too widely as I walked, or whatever lah, since I was so damn sure their eyes were following me (so proud unashamed dead self-centered I was).

The track itself was laid on an open-air court with high metalwork fences at its four sides. The first impression that came on my mind was: a low-maintenance place. The track was formed by erecting low walls made of three stacks of tire. The base was probably concrete like the one used in a school’s basketball court. It shown crack at some places.

Since I was waiting for Petra to show up (she claimed she lost the entrance too. I thought they should really do something to the entrance…), I wandered around to get myself occupied. Handphone was a good thing to have, since I could pretend to be busy to text someone (which actually all I did was pressing the menu button, cancel, lock, unlock, menu, write message, cancel, lock, unlock…… okay, it’s never ending…). But eventually it bored my fingers so I did text Mikael (content was toxically confidential). This busy-for-nothing kid was too busy to come over, even though I was just across his office right now.

Long story short (too late, isn’t it?), two of the people that kept glancing at me (hehe) went for the race. A man and a woman. I had never been to a Go-Kart before, so I was enthusiastic to watch.

(one minute passed by) then I decided: okay, they were not that good…! What a relieve. It meant I was not the only one who would probably embarrass himself. the boy hit the tire walls several times and the girl kept taking cheating shortcut for not wanting to fall behind the man. She hit the walls too, often at the same place. (A bad couple too, it seemed that no one wanted to concede to their partner).

(several minutes later) Petra showed up! I threw a glance at the girl who kept peeking me (hey, true!) and she seemed disappointed to see me with a girl partner (too bad, she was quite attractive…). We went for the ticket booth.

It cost 30thou per 5 minute ride per person (40thou on weekends and holidays). Additionally, it cost 15thou more to buy a pair of handgloves and (terrorist) kupluk/hat/cap (what is the english for kupluk, anyway??), which would belong to you thenceforth.

After wearing the gloves, cap, jacket, and helmet, we’re ready.

The race is on! (wait wait, we asked the crew to take our photos first, of course!! :D)

It was fun! It was easy to drive too. Left foot on the brake and right foot the acceleration pad.

Ngeeeeeeeeeeeeng, we were on our race in seconds.

Petra drove carefully, especially at the sharp turns, which made her slower. (She probably was afraid anything to happen as her company was not kind about safety things. hehe). I, on the other hand, drove quite recklessly: braked near the turns and accelerated right away. Sometimes I didn’t brake enough or drive slow enough at the turns that my Kart slid a little bit afterwards. IT was fun! And I prided myself of never hitting the walls like the previous racers did. Cool huh? LOL. I am a jerky jack-ass.

Loop:
Ngeeeeeeengggg, scheeeeeeet, ngeeng, ngeeeng, ngeeeeeeeeeeng.
End Loop

(five minutes later) I didn’t know how many laps I covered, but the satisfaction was good enough for that 5 mins. It would be much more fun if it had been more people (friends though. I don’t want to get into a race with unknowns. They’ll probably smack you afterward if you beat them… rite? :D).

It’s hot though, racing under the sun. We gave back the jackets and the helmets. (wait wait, we asked the crew to take another photo).

There was a small canteen at the far end of the spectator platform. We went there for cold mineral water (didn’t check other menu) and let the excitement wore off.
I said it’s all worth it. I’d try again some time.

Then we went out. Some other people came in, quite several of them. Let’s do this some time, with more people, guys!!

Okay… hummmm hummm…

Next part was not so interesting. We went to meet Mika at his office building. This busy kid met us at the Excelso cafe. We chatted, quarreled irrationally about the drinks (just like kids…), gossiped, and disbanded. Well, next part after this involved some shopping, watching a movie, bla bla bla.

Ngeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeennnnnnnnnnngggggggggggggg…..

Have you been to FX? *sigh* for you who are not gaul enough Jakartans, among which I
used to be counted (I know you notice the past tense I use…  you just can’t let me say myself gaul enough now, can you?!
@#@*^&#%* still, I state a fact!), fx is the new mall in town. By “in
town” I mean it is indeed truly literally factually in the centre of modern
civilization of Jakarta and worth some mentioning (I implicitly mock the places
of outskirts Jakarta which boast “malls” in their own sense. It is not “in town”
for me. The fact that I do happen to live in one of those places doesn’t have
anything to do with my mocking, of course…)

Yup, I think fx is the newest mall as when I write this.
There are just several things I noticed there that I wanted to write. (Oh come
on, I know you start to move your mouse to the address bar to type some other
addresses and or cruise the pointer around the red button of close button. Hold
on a minute laaah ).

I had been there only twice, and the first time I didn’t
really notice anything since we were such in a hurry that we climbed all the
escalators to the top floor, went down, and then were out of the mall (now
after I write this, it does sound like we’re doing some strange exercise IN a
mall that time…). On the second time, though, I managed to notice some
peculiar and interesting things.

Let’s start with several things. Good things.

You can see a
“Ducati” standing in the front of the main lobby. For a non-racing-enthusiast,
like me apparently (oh gosh, what kind of sport am I enthusiastic about then??),
it is a brand of a racing sport motorbike (I guess… you gotta search google
lah). It’s supposed to be a cool bike. I guess it is. Does anybody know how
much it costs (coz I have no idea)? coz you might be able to get it for just
100 thousand there. Not shocked? I talk about IDR not USD here… oh come on, be
shocked, please. Don’t be too hopeful yet, it’s not like you can hand out
100thou rupiah to the guard and take it home. It will long be gone already if
anybody can do that! you need some tricks for that, which I will reveal, if you
don’t know yet!

Fx is actually a nice mall. Do you know the EX plaza, the
one next and connected to PI? (now if you don’t know what these are, maybe it
is a wise idea to consider buying ‘Jakarta for dummies’. They have everything
for dummies in stores lately. I wonder when they will get to ‘peeling fruits
for dummies’ coz I need one!!).

yup, EX and FX were told to me to have some connection. (I’d
like to use sarcasm again, prepare yourself) for you who do not have fully
developed adult brain yet, the connection is of course that ‘f’ comes after ‘e’
in the alphabets. (Hush hush, I know it’s a big revelation to some of you, but
stop making that “O” shaped lips, will you?) Actually, I was told that both had
the same developer (or owner?). I don’t know for sure, that’s why I use the
“was told” thing, right?

And they indeed share similar features. (I hate to admit it,
but I did notice this after some
emak-emak told her husband, ‘yes yah, it looks a lot like EX’. And not
after I did some architectural analysis did I come up with agreement. BUT what
the heck do I know about architecture?!?!!?).

Anyway, most of the shops were occupied by restaurants still.
I even got the impression its concept was like Citos but with full AC indoor
(yes, it’s Cilandak Town Square. Someone actually managed to ask me once, if it
was the snack Cheetos that I meant to tell).

There was one
particular floor (I forget which since I have SUCH great architectural analysis.
floor F2, I guess) comprises almost entirely of restaurants, but the walkway
was kinda twisted here and there that I once ended up to a single restaurant (I
suppose it was a dead end, but I never found out since I stopped when the
waiter approached me. I didn’t plan to eat since I was still waiting for a
friend and instead of walking back away [which would make me look stupid and
entirely not-charismatic like a poor kid, which I tried desperately to cover of
course, which i am not!], I asked him the first question came to mind, ‘where is the escalator
ya?’ it proved to be a dumb question. He indicated the way with his fingers
[while suppressing an urge to laugh out loud, I think! He had that sly smile, I
swear! ], and it was where I just showed up moments before. Grrr, I should
start studying this mall more. Luckily it was kind of dim so he couldn’t have
seen my reddening face. Hahaha, no lah!).

This floor also had some kind of standalone transparent
pod-like rooms. I didn’t actually know what this place for, but my power of
observation was above normal, you see. Apparently, some rooms were occupied and
they used it as a gathering place, like for business meeting while you can dine.
It has a TV for presentation purpose, I guess. It was claimed to be able to
provide gaming and karaoke too. Hm, cool huh? But who wants to karaoke in
transparent room while many people might actually pass by and watch? Isn’t it
the whole idea of making karaoke room to be as private and as obscured as
possible just like a whore house? But there might be, of course, in this crazy
time of generation.

The main attraction to this place is of course the
much-talk-about ATMOSTFEAR. There were lots of review already, but I’m entitled
to give mine, so stop complaining. Haha.

It was a slide (like a kindergarten children slide),
designed as a tube extending and twisting downwards from the seventh floor to
the first. It is available for a ride, of course. You will be lent a jacket,
knee caps, helmet, and hand gloves to make you look cool (No lah, it’s for
safety, you nowadays-want-to-look-cool-always-but-not-knowing-how-to kid). Then
you will be given a mat to hold on to while sliding inside. After you are ready
and on your position, the crew will push you into the slide.

Now, I was cool at that time thinking, ‘ah, just a slide and
it isn’t that inclined too. Moreover, what can happen inside a tube anyway?’ But
no matter how cool I was, I kind of broke inside! Haha. I didn’t expect it
would be THAT fast. What I feared most was me toppling over my head and rolling
inside instead of sliding. It was ridiculous of course.

I wanted to shout out loud (for such ride shouting is the
best relieve, really!), but I was cool remember!? With millions of people
watching the slide ON EVERY FLOOR how could I embarrass myself, rite? (Well, I
exaggerate the millions of people, but it felt like that to me! Haha). So all I
managed was tiny falsetto sound of “ooooo..oohhh“ “uuuuuu” during the downwards plunge (now I recall
it sound like Thai-men when they speak. I just noticed in several Thai-movies
lately that no Thai-man speaks quite with macho-vigor, are there? Maybe it’s
just their language. ;p). There were others who didn’t hesitate to
“AAAAAARRRRRRGGGGHHH” a lot, ESPECIALLY the girls. You, who’s got balls, shout
please!

No need to worry if you feel sliding too fast, that you will
crush yourself to pieces in the landing mattress on the first floor, coz there
is a slowing mechanism somewhere in the middle of the slide for you to catch
your breath and guts. And the mattress was comfy too. I felt a little bit dizzy
after crashing (I think it’s because I was not wearing glasses at that time.
yes, perfect excuse reasonable explanation), but there was a man helping me up.

And they timed you too. They claimed you could get to the
landing in 12 seconds. (mathematic update: if you can guess the height of each
floor, time it with 7 [floors], then divide it with 12 seconds, you will get
your average vertical drop speed. I tempt to calculate, but I don’t want to
make a fool of myself guessing the wrong height. Arrgh). They got a TV display
at the side of the landing opening showing how many seconds you did the slide
(I overheard someone asking his girlfriend, what the number on the display
meant. Geez, THIS is what I called a non-updater or tidak gaul. Hahahha. Maybe he’s just making conversations with his
girlfriend lah. Or maybe he’s a super busy executive who doesn’t have the
leisure to check on such not important feature of a new mall like I do someone).

I got 10++ seconds. Hmm, I had a theory then. The heavier
you were, the longer you would be inside. (I know you argue the heavier oneself
is, the quicker he drops. That’s false of course. If you had given more
attention to your hateful annoying physics teacher, you would have known what
Newton proposed, of course: mass does not affect the acceleration given by the
gravity. It means if you drop a feather and a barbell from the same height,
they will reach the ground at the same time, given the air is vacuumed. It is
not applicable on Earth of course, since the air friction will cause heavier
objects to reach bottom quicker than lighter one. If I need to explain this, I
will open a physics class soon – and I’m not sure what I said was right either.
hahaha). So, the heavier you are, the bigger the friction between your body and
the inclined plane of the slide surface, making you slide slightly slower. It
proved right with me and my friends. She was ‘definitely’ heavier than me, and
she needed 11++. But two experiments can’t be used to confirm a theory. Try
find out yourself lah!

Interested? You can get this ride for free! Well, not really
free actually. You need to spend 100thou rupiah in this mall and exchange the
bill with one ticket (moronic statement coming…: yes, you need at least 200thou
for two tickets, 300thou for three, etc). So it is in a sense a free ride,
since you get what you pay for plus a free ATMOSTFEAR ride.

And for every 100thou
purchase, you could get a coupon for the Ducati prize lucky draw. It’s like
throwing a single stone to kill three birds: first bird your purchase, second
bird the ATMOSTFEAR ride, and the third the coupon. The third bird would be a
tricky one though, since it was an acrobatic bird that’s hard to hit with a
stone. (you got what I mean or do I have to explain it? Please don’t say you
need to… *oh well, I’ll explain* you will need a grand luck to get the Ducati
prize since it’s a lucky draw, of course *sigh* *geleng-geleng*).

Now let’s get to the peculiar things I mentioned.

The toilet. Instead of having a usual writing of ‘gents’ or
‘ladies’ or their variations or simple symbols, they put carvings of “a lady
sitting on a stool” for ladies, “a man peeing with his pee visible curving
downwards” for gents, and (sorry I forget what it is) for babies.

And inside the gent’s toilets, they put a long mirror in
front of the urinals: a perfect idea to check out your handsomeness while
peeing, or to distract you from your unbearable urges to take a peep at your
neighbor’s little brother (euw), or if you are interested in his little
brother, then you can check out the owner’s face through the mirror. What a
homo-philic toilet! I don’t know, maybe it’s just there to remind you to pee
quickly if there’s a queue behind you or maybe someone stalking you or doing
weird things or what lah, just like at the ATM, rite?… And just right across
the urinals’ mirror, there was a big mirror for the washstand. Oh yeah, you can
check the butt of the little brother’s owner out when you (pretending to) wash
your hands.

you ask me about the ladies’? what do you think I grow two heavy breasts and one scallop suddenly ar? how the heck do i know!

One shop. If your eyes were keen enough, you would notice a
shop with a name of “cintamani”. Pornographically sick, daring, and cool huh.
(for you who don’t understand this [yet again?], try break the word into
‘cinta’ and ‘mani’. Don’t you dare ask me what ‘mani’ is: it’s sticky, it’s
white, and it’s claimed to be sweet..? it contains million souls. Got it yet?? **No, it’s not a thick milk!!** **give up explaining..**). I thought it was supposed to be an English
or Chintcha Lauwfra version of the city Kintamani in Bali…? Whatever it is, there’s no ‘cinta’ or
obviously no ‘mani’ or more than obvious no “cinta mani” related things inside!
You wish!

Well, I don’t really have fun here except for the ATMOSTFEAR
ride. The shops were not in my league both for my taste and financial point of
view. There were no shops for the usual brands I liked, and the prices were
overly expensive, and mostly they were girls’ stuffs. Open up some FCUK stands,
maybe I’ll change my mind…

HEY, they have a website for this, checkout http://www.fx-generation.com/

[THEN WTH am I typing this all for if I can give you the
link from the beginning?? SO you will read my blog, of course!!]

THIS is something i write during one of my off time in a remote place…

Have you ever heard of these two:
“work to live” and “live to work”; two very different lifestyles that determine
how you live your life. I might still a newbie in this whole working experience
to understand those fully, but would people, who have worked long enough, be
able to realize which path they have taken? And when they have, and are not
satisfied with it, would it then be already too late to change the course, or
simply, do they have the gut to do so… for sacrifice is all needed to afford
it.

Anyway as I write this, I am in a
trailer. It’s Sunday, yet I haven’t gone to the church. Not that it matters
anyway, for I seldom go either. Besides, there is no church here, adding up to
a perfect excuse. And anyway, the afternoon heat inside the trailer is unbearable.
My friend, who fasts for the Holy month, has gone to the Mushola, I guess, to
find shelter from the searing heat.

There are six beds inside the
trailer, previously occupied by five. Unlike my friend, the others have gone
even farther than simply to the Mushola; they have gone back to Jakarta, the
heart of civilization and entertainment and social life and all. Only the two
of us are still stuck here. Even though before, when everybody was still here,
we seldom chatted to each other, somehow the air is now full of solitude
without them. Maybe the fact that we shared the same situation that what might
have bounded us off loneliness. Now the bound has gone and the loneliness feeling
seeps through every pore.

I write this because I simply am
idling right now, something I am neither grateful for nor vengeful at. I try my
best and struggle hard to kill the time, yet wish that this idleness would
never end. Don’t mind that, I say to myself as I try to soothe my soul, since at
least we have been told that we’re not into more works today. Just focus on how
to write this off.

How are you doing, people? It
sure seems like eons the last time I met you guys. I surely miss you. The time
and space stretches like oiled rubber here, lengthy and sticky. Geographically,
I am closer to home, yet the omnipresent of the quiet nothingness, the dirt,
and the endless stands of trees have deluded me. My mind is filled with these
many words to tell, many thoughts to share, and many wishes to meet. Yes, the
air conditioner is doing nothing to help the glowing heat. And yes, it might
have tracked my train of thought off the rail. I don’t really care.

By the way, I went along a car
ride this morning (not something I seldom do though especially when I have to
move back and forth the site where I work). As usual, I had no clue how the
roads interconnect here. Every turn reveals the same scenery; plantation on the
both sides, brown reddish bushes stained with layers of dust, occasional rusty pipelines,
and scattered gravels on the dusty dirt road. The dirt roads fork rigorously
into many unknown places, turn into many unknown destinations to me. No, it is
not my concern, only the complicatedness of this whole setting frustrates me,
or rather numbs me. Once during this ride, a thick fog appears suddenly
surrounding us, blocking the sight to a mere two meter, causing us to slow for
safety. Inexperienced eyes like mine wouldn’t have noticed that it was not dew
at all, but rather, as I knew seconds later, particles of dust that had risen
up from the ground. This phenomenon alerted my senses as everything seemed to
slow down even more, letting me take the chance to enjoy the emptiness of
presence, the ubiquitous quite. Everything that had been clamoring my mind for
days turned into a blur of other dimension, a moment of peace. It was brief
though, we moved past it too soon.

Now we are back here in the small
spaced trailer, with my only savior from this boredom: my walkman phone,
feeding constant musics to my ears. And then there are you people. And then
there is this blog. And then I hope I could be with you somehow, somewhere,
some time; Old schoolers, faraway friends, classmates, lover… friends.

And after all this long aimless
blog, I still can’t decide: work to live or live to work. What I do is I walk
down the winding road and let the paths reveal themselves, like the dust that
fades away, eventually…

And for you:

Truly miss you in times like
this… Your smiles truly help… it cools me through the heat