KisenoSky

The Love Letter

2012-01-29T19:28:00.001+07:00

Ribkar wrote me a letter, Untuk Teman dari Tingkat Satu, as a submission to a letter writing competition, 30 Hari Menulis Surat Cinta. Been waiting for a long time since the day she made the first submissions, wondering if I would ever get one of her letters. Was so happy when the "postman" delivered it via Twitter.

Hey, Rib, thank you for the letter.

You're one of my best friends, if you want to know. I always remember how we used to sit together in the class. How you were always late to school. How I always texted you every morning, "Kelasnya di mana?" We rode your new scooter, the night before I went back to my hometown. And you came over right away when I told you I needed a company for dinner.

The first few days of this semester, I still hardly believed that I couldn't find you at school anymore. Surrounded by new classmates, felling lonely. Went to Plasma sometimes, alone with my thoughts—we used to had lunch there together. And wherever I walked, met people we knew, they asked me questions about you. I felt sick. And mad. Mad at you for leaving school. But that wasn't your fault.

I manage to make some friends at school, but no one's like you. And it sucks.

I'm not good at writing, I didn't know how to reply your letter. But I wrote a greeting card I sent with your birthday present. Via Pos Indonesia. So old school, I know. But I wanted to make it a little bit extraordinary.

I hope the postman come to your house soon.

Come on, Little Stranger! (Part 1/2)

2012-01-17T15:14:00.000+07:00

Last year.

The rain had just stopped when I walked home from school, when I saw you at the lane, walking before me. I thought you were my boyfriend—you had a similar look from behind. About to call you but as I came closer, my short-sighted eyes told me you were not. You were a bit taller and slimmer.

I walked along the lane with you before me. We went to the same direction but, no, I wasn't following you. Somehow you stopped by the store I was going to go to. So, yes, we entered the same place. Talking with the shop lady, you said funny things. And you laughed. And I fell for your joke. I couldn't help smiling.

My professor hadn't come so I decided to go downstairs and grab something from the canteen. And you were there when I walked out of my classroom—in front of your class, joking with your friends, laughing out loud. I knitted the brows looking at your silly action. You noticed me and said something to me, absurdly, about your friends being stupid. Then you laughed with them again. That was the first time you talked to me. Again, I couldn't help smiling.

I saw you. Frequently. At the coffee booth in the canteen. And at the copy shop. And under the canopy, you were rushing to your class. And I knew you noticed me noticing you.

Went out with my boyfriend, just like how couples did on Saturday night. Down the residential street, he suddenly called someone he saw. It was you. Yes, you. He knew you! So I asked him who you were. A friend from his hometown, he said. And he told me your name. I was so happy to know your name. But I regretted that you saw me with my boyfriend.

Just some other night, going home from a date. Again, we bumped into you on the street. My boyfriend and you greeted each other. And I could only watch your back, as you walked away, as this hard feeling struck again: I never wanted you to see me with him.

I broke up with my boyfriend. No, not because of you.

Last week.

You were sitting by the school gate. You smiled at me. I didn't know how to react.

How I Look with Some Makeup

2012-01-15T18:37:00.000+07:00

Last December, I and my designer fellows, Indah and Ekki, planned a photo shoot project with my housemate, Riche, as the talent. But, too bad, Ekki had to go back to our hometown at the D-day. We just couldn't do it without him. He was the photographer anyway. So it disappointingly was canceled.

But I had an opportunity to do some makeup experiment with Indah before doing the real photo shoot. She did the makeup and photography. She also let me wear her wardrobe. I really love the photos we took that day. All thanks to her.

I don't usually wear makeup, so it felt kinda strange. (I only apply some moisturizer and lip balm when I'm going to school and add light face powder when I hang out. As a girl, I'm such a failure. Hahaha.) But I love the dark eyeliner and eye shadow. What do they call it? Smokey eyes?

Our experiment taught me more about makeup: how to apply foundation, eyeliner, eye shadow, blush-on... Thinking of one day I'll buy my own kit and give it some try. Sounds exciting.

Back to Blogspot

2012-01-13T21:01:00.003+07:00

"I'm just gonna shut myself down emotionally, like George Clooney."

— Jamie, Friends for Benefits (2011)

I think that my posts on WordPress are getting more personal. And sentimental. And I don't think they suits the image of WordPress. I admit that my writings are not as smart as they used to be. And what I call by "not smart" is when I write more of "what I feel" instead of "what I'm thinking". Most blog posts on Blogspot are more emotional than in WordPress, admit it! I'm not saying that emotional thingies are stupid. No. I don't know how to put this. Basically, I just want to write emotional posts without feeling, "This is not the right place."

Gonna write more later.