Obsessions, part cinq - Where it all began: MUSIC I DON’T UNDERSTAND.

Or rather, songs with foreign languages, with lyrics I have no hope of understanding without the help of the Oh-So-Wonderful Google, and/or music that I can’t sing along to unless I stare at the lyrics for hours.

Current obsession: 2PM. Because let’s face it, much as I try to suppress it – I’m as susceptible to abs as the next girl. And oh boy, do these boys have abs. Hellooooo!

Exhibit a. AAAAABBBSSS.

Exhibit b. Dem boiz look good in fitted shirts.

And they’re hilarious to boot. Abs and comedic talent – the way to my (admittedly shallow) heart. Every. Time. But their songs are fun, and perfect for dancing madly to.

BUT! As the title suggest – this wasn’t where it all began.

1999 was a year of discovery for me, and as far as I could remember it – awesome music. Freshly landed in Jakarta, my ears were immediately assaulted with Neo’s Cewe Matre – a weird, but somewhat hilarious song about girls who are only out for money. Woke up one day to Sheila On 7’s Dan playing on MTV one day, and at one point, I was introduced to Dewa. (And back then, Indonesian was pretty much a foreign language for me! :p) And suddenly a whole new world opened..!

Up till then I was listening to Oasis and Blur and NSYNC and All Saints and Natalie Imbruglia – all brilliant artists, yes.. But all English speaking singers, with lyrics in English. The most ‘foreign’ artist I knew back then was Bjork (but she sang English songs so I figure she doesn’t count..) and Sash! (But his songs were mostly about the beats, not the lyrics). So to my utter delight, I found a sh*tload of Indonesian artists via my cousin and brother. And then.. I found Utada Hikaru.

For a time, I was obsessed with her.

She was pretty, her songs were.. amazing, and different, I didn’t understand a single f*cking word – and it was glorious. I’ve been listening to this one again non-stop:

I found the lyrics and patiently spent 10 minutes on the internet loading the page (back then, I still had dial-up internet folks!). The wait was worth it though, I was just completely mesmerized by the pretty, pretty lyrics. (And we all know how much of a whore I am for words, yes?.. At least when I’m not distracted by ABS.) 

saigo no kisu wa
tabako no flavor ga shita
nigakute setsunai kaori
(the last kiss
tasted like tobacco
a bitter and sad smell)

ashita no imagoro ni wa
anata wa doko ni iru n' darou
dare wo omotte 'ru n' darou
(tomorrow, at this time
where will you be?
who will you be thinking about?) 

you are always gonna be my love
itsu ka dare ka to mata koi ni ochite mo
I'll remember to love
you taught me how
you are always gonna be the one
ima wa mada kanashii love song
atarashii uta utaeru made 

(you are always gonna be my love
even if i fall in love with someone once again
I'll remember to hold on
you taught me how
you are always gonna be the one
it's still a sad song
until I can sing a new song)

Pretty, yes?

So yes. Utada Hikaru’s First Love got me hooked on Japanese musicians. (From there I discovered L’Arc~En~Ciel, Gackt, X Japan, etc).. Basically, I blame her for my love of songs that I DON’T UNDERSTAND BUT SOUND SO PRETTY! Mainly it's French singers, who have me wrapped around their little fingers because hot damn, French is a sexy language. With the Japanese in tie for first place because seriously. Utada Hikaru. Not to mention Bump of Chicken and School Food Punishment and Spitz and Cibo Matto and many, many, many instrumental artists I adore. (Not to mention my obsession with anime and manga in high school introduced me to a sh*tload of Japanese musicians!)

But for now, my obzeshoon is with teh Koreans.

Damn it, Carla Bruni – start singing more songs. Your voice is too smexy to be kept quiet! Either you release new songs or I ogle at ABS!

Fine. Abs it is. (For now at least ;P haha)

Lakon Animasi

This is.. Both cute and cool. From Indonesia's very own Lakon Animasi. Enjoy. :)

Obsession, part quatre

Just a little obsessed. Not so much.. But I can't stop listening to Example's songs right now. Finding his songs fun to dance around to!

First got into him after I found him from We Are Hunted, a music website I've been really into. Then saw his appearance on 8 Out of 10 Cats and Nevermind the Buzzcocks, both panel shows I've loved for ages (Nevermind anyhoo, 8 Out of 10 I've only started watching since Jon Richardson went on to be a captain.)

So yes. You can find me bouncing along to Example's songs at the most random times right now.

Caramel and whiskey.

There's something magical about soft, dull, grey drenched days.

You can't help but think that something is about to happen. Any moment now. There's something simmering under the crusts of the earth and it's going to amaze everybody.. Any moment now.

Of course nothing ever really happens.

No zombie will ever crawl towards me as I shuffle miserably to my car after a particularly grueling day at work at 2 am. No army of werewolves will howl at the moon when it looks particularly delicious, all round and golden and beautiful. And no faery will whisper in my ear, luring me to their secret mound where I shall have to resist the temptation of dewdrops and exotic looking food.

I know that Narnia isn't behind a cupboard door, no matter how many times I gleefully try to sneak inside one. I understand that no matter how pretty rose petals look, or how fragrant crushed mint leaves smell - they have no magical property whatsoever, and magic spells don't exist (and anyway, spells need far more exotic ingredients. Rose petals and mint leaves are way too common!). I realize that my car won't speak to me, even if I coax it and name it and coo at it.

Yes. I do read too many books and watch too much TV and replay movies much too often.

But if nothing else, books have taught me that anything and everything is possible. Even if it's just inside my head.

Because I understand that caramel and whiskey is a terrible combination, but the taste that lingers seems to overpower just about everything else.

It's not too soon!

Who else gets giddy for Christmas? (I try so hard to be an adult, but I keep failing.)

Some say November is a bit too early for all the Christmas-y ads and songs and gimmicks to come out, I say NEVER!! I adore Christmas ads :D And here's one from John Lewis.



Adora-babble yes? So adorable you just gotta tell people, and babble about it  ;)

Work still surprises me with how fun it is :)

When I'm feeling super tired, I think of all the fun photoshoots I've done and all of the amazing people I've met.. and I slap myself silly. 

One photoshoot which made me super happy lately is with Voelkan, an interior and product design team, consisting of two very cool guys (who I've met) and The Other Guy (this is me being flip and silly, because I haven't met the other guy :P haha!). The house looked.. in short - amazing. It was everything I could have hoped for. It was colourful, fun, and best of all - immaculate! It made my job as a stylist really easy, as I didn't have to do much. Cue big grin and high fives with my long suffering photographer who usually gets roped into moving the furniture around with me.

I have to say it was one of my favourite shoots. And so soon after my last fave shoot! Lucky girl indeed!

As ever, in the midst of faffing about, procrastinating because I just don't want to write anything right now, I found Met's blog. He's one of the guys from Voelkan, and I knew he had mad crazy sk1llz from the artwork displayed at The CrazyCoolAwesome House (as I've taken to calling it in my head), but his blog is just too cool.

 

This is the entry he did on the shoot we had (visit here)! His illustrations journal is worth peeking as well - like I said - mad crazy sk1llz.

I should stop blogging about work. I really should. But sometimes I find stuff that's just really nice, and I have to share.

Wait.. what?

It's been a while since I posted anything from my trusty laptop, Willow! With her faded black keypads, chipped red enamel, and busted speakers.. This 5 year old beauty has been my trusty companion, and I miss her so.. Been abandoning her :(

Why Willow, I hear you ask? Well.. She's red, ergo Red. Ergo Willow. Look up 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer'. Or I may explain my love of naming all my important personal.. stuff, at a later date.

Man I can't think. Not in Indonesian, not in English, not in some mangled combination of both.

Scuse my lack of coherency.. It's 2.25 am, I'm still at the office, and I need to stab my eyes out. This anniversary issue is killing me.. BUT IT WILL BE AWESOME! I honestly can't wait to see the finished product.

But I need to stab my eyes out.

Or possibly drink myself to a day-long coma, at least then I'll have a proper hangover, with fun memories of being a crazystupid-drunk. As opposed to this hangover-like-effects from lack of sleep. I've taken to wearing sunglasses outside, at any given time.

I don't like the sun. It gives my sleep deprived brain ouchie-ouchies.

memorized ;)

I don’t have trust issues!

.. I just have issues.

Aha. Ahaha. Ahahaha.

Today’s random musing is brought to you by a random rant-y journal entry from back in 2006 when an ex of mine pointed out that I have trust issues, and I got really pissy. I don’t, by the way. Not more so than the average person, imho..

People form their opinions and perceptions of you based on the most random things, and you form your own opinion of what YOU are like based on the way you want to be seen.

I think I’m geeky, very bookish, and somewhat shy. This is because I think geeks are cool, words mean the world to me, and people scare me. But I’ve been told that although I have many interests that could be classed as ‘geeky’, I am in fact – not really all that geeky. The bookish thing people pick up on quickly enough, as I usually have a few books lying around, and I really am obsessed with words (English words to be precise..).. But the ‘somewhat shy’ bit makes people laugh. At my face. Loudly and obnoxiously.

Somewhere along the way, I’ve found it easier to talk to strangers, although they still terrify me. I can do the whole ‘small talk’ thing no probs, and my smiling-like-a-serial-killer-whenever-introduced-to-new-people thing has all but dissapeared. I attribute these changes to my super cool friends who like to drag me out to meet THEIR super cool friends. Although I still get anxious, and awkward, I guess ‘somewhat shy’ needs to be struck out of the list of words I currently use to describe myself.

Changing my own perceptions about myself is one hell of a difficult thing to do though, I have so many hang ups on things I thought were ‘not cool’ but it turns out I have to do them today, or now that I have become That-Person-I-Would-Have-Avoided-A-Million-Years-Ago, it’s a bit hard to say to myself ‘it’s okay, you’re still you..!’. As hard as it is to slap myself awake, trying to change other people’s perception of me is double-y hard. In fact, double it, square it, and times it by a million, and you’re still nowhere near close to how hard it is. Especially amongst people who grew up with me. People who saw me at my worst, and at my best, and think that they know – at heart – what I’m like.

I think I’ve all but given up on pointing out to cerain people that I’m not an opinionated 18 year old anymore (still opinionated, but not 18.. So should maybe hopefully kinda maybe know better..)

So.. Trust issues? This doesn’t seem to have much to do with the post, and truthfully – it doesn’t.. The random observation from the past triggered an hour long contemplation (in the toilet no less), and I’ve concluded the one thing that remains true from back then till now is – I don’t give a flying f***. 

;P

Obsession part Trois

Or the post in which Mousey should really learn how to spell 'obsession'. It's just one of those words my brain refuses to spell correctly. The other being 'business', my problem probably lies in the abundant number of 's's it contains.

Anyhoo!

Evil eyes. Or as they're known in Turkey - nazar boncuğu. According to the ever faithful Wikipedia page, a nazar is; "an eye-shaped amulet believed to protect against the evil eye ("evil eye", from nazar and "amulet" from boncuğu). It is common in Afghanistan, Pakistan, Turkey, Armenia, Iran and Greece. In Turkey, the nazar is often hung in offices and homes, or incorporated in jewelery.
A typical nazar is made of handmade glass featuring concentric circles or teardrop shapes in dark blue, light blue, white and black, occasionally with a yellow/gold edge."

Source: Wikipedia, w00t!

I love pendants. I have a whole box of silver pendants of various sizes. And I love pendants with a 'story', religious beliefs, traditional symbols - I eat 'em up like om-nom-nom. My longest love has been for celtic trinkets, as the first ever pendant I received from my mother was a celtic knot with a tiny amethyst bead - which I still wear quite often even today.

Evil eyes have been a favourite since my early uni days, when an aunt of mine gave me the prettiest blue-green nazar pendant. It recently broke, which spurred me on a huge nazar hunt. And here I must profess my love of the internet age once more - I LOVE YOU INTERNET!

I found this shop which sells all sort of pretty pendants (which is the source of all the images in this post, the above image included), and quite a few bracelets that I have my eyes on. The white one below is defo on my MUST GET list.. It's just too pretty!

But since I just recently went on a huge nail-polish splurge (yes, that's another one of my obsessions) - alas, these will have to wait for another month! Below are two bracelets I'm crushing on. Pretty, pretty, pretty!

Sometimes when a friend says "I think you should face your fears," what they really mean is "I want to see you piss your pants/puke your face off"

As I've mentioned many times in this blog - I'm a coward. Like srsly. I go green at the mere thought of being strapped in and being turned any which way in those death traps. Oops. I meant 'RIDES'. And I still maintain that those rides are highly unnatural. If humans were meant to have their legs up in the air, and heads on the grounds, we'd be walking with our heads. Not our legs.

But I went to Dufan. And I conquered all the rides! Halilintar.. Hysteria.. Kicir Kicir (watch the videos!).. I did it all! (Tornado was under maintenance, thank fuck.).. Cheshire cat grin on my face, voice sore from screaming, hair in a tangle from everything. I did it! I'm even rather fond of Kicir Kicir.

I'm feeling rather proud of myself. One fear down, about 99 thousand to go. Haha!

(Okay, so sometimes some friends mean well when they say "face your fears..!", and maybe I should say thank you. So, thank you, K!)

Obsession part Deux

Two posts in one day? Say it ain't so, Mousey!

Technically these posts consist of videos and not much else, so Opa Colson will probably consider this as me being a horrible cheat.

So here's a little explanation on why I'm posting videos of short movies.. I love short movies. I hunt the internet for short movies. Silly ones, sad ones, strangely angry ones, videos make me happy. I like watching them. A while back I posted Hugh Newman's Validation video, and now I think it's high time I post another video! One I (sort of) recently stumbled upon.

It went viral a while back, so you might have or might not have seen it before. I present to you the extremely funny 'Every Argument Every Couple Ever has EVER' from thecaseydonahue, I think the title says it all. Enjoy.

Obsession part Une

So. I sometimes get obsessed with random boiz. This is my current stalkee on youtube, and I've spent entirely too much time listening to him sing.



Name: Cameron Mitchell
Obsession origin: The Glee Project

Actually, I've never seen a single episode of the glee project. But my cousin (who rarely swoons over boiz), told me to google this guy, and now here I am. Ogling. Because he's very ogle worthy. He's so cute! But mainly I'm here because of the voice.

I love the kind of voices guys like him has, I swoon and I giggle and I squee. And I love his choice of covers. Above is his cover of the Beatles's song 'Blackbird'. A song I've over played for a while now. I love the original version, and I have several cover versions I also over play, and I have to say.. I'm probably going to over play Cameron's version a lot too.

And THIS is the song that got me falling in love with him:



I love, love, love this song as well. And I love his version of it. Just.. *swoon*

(His voice is amazing, and I have a weakness for geeky-hipster-types. Gimme awkward guys any day over overtly-macho-men-types :p I'm weird like that.)

Linger - May you live with no regrets.

Before you read on.. This was something I wrote a while back.. A long while back. It was actually a gift fic for Ilvan J. Casajid's 20th birthday.. Or as he is known these days - Calvin. One my favourite people in the world. Because he's a good friend, he has an amazing brain, and we giggle together over the strangest things.

His request? For me to write something surreal. And like most things I wrote back in the day - this one ended up as angst. Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata.

Edited a little, because I'm older and I know better than my 20 year old self. Here goes..!

***

We come with the glitter studded sky, hiding in the soft folds of night.

Unseen. Unheard. Unexpected.

No.

He sees Us. Hears Us. Expects Us. He alone knows, and he alone understands. We've come to haunt. With a grace never seen by Our victims, We'll glide softly through the air, caressing and coaxing all to incoherent insanity. The gentlest hold slowly turning to a choke. None will die, yet all will be scarred.

He smiles. For he believes himself prepared. Delusional fool.

Cocooned in a castle of stone, protected, but never from me, never from Us. No gates will hinder Us, no guards will stop Us. Hidden between paintings great and armours cold, but still We will seek him. And always, We know.. I know where he is.

He is different tonight. I can feel it from his firm footsteps as he strides to his piano, a determination I have not seen for so long so apparent on his weathered face. I'll call her here. His thoughts ring loud and clear. More determined than it has been in years. I've nothing to fear. Not of the dark, not of the deafening silence that comes with her presence, and especially not of her.

His determination amuses Us, and We smile. With a single nod, They leave me, because he is mine. It is not him that They've come for, but he is what I have come here for. He is mine.

As he sits on the soft velvet cushion, it begins.

With every gentle stroke he will remember me.

The golden sunlight of a glorious summer day. The depressed dark of a room shielded by heavy curtains. A tinkling laughter. A heaving sob. The light cheerfulness of a cotton dress. The fragile beauty of a white nightgown. He will remember and so he will weep.

A wispy figure, a fading memory.

He shivers, yet he doesn't stop playing. He knows I am here, as I have been every night for ten years. I approach him softly, my light footsteps lost on thick carpet. He knows it's time.

Softly I stroke his graying hair. Has it been so long already? Dignified lines grace his face, and I mourn my own smooth cheeks, a face that will never be tarnished by wisdom and experience. I kiss the stanger's head, for the man I knew is all but gone. He tries to ignore me. He always does. But he knows he will surrender. Because in the end, it is all he can do.

Resigned to this nightly ritual, he starts.

Note by note, his hands danced, creating a haunting melody, and I shiver in anticipation. His figure lazily sways, betraying the speed of his elegant fingers, flirting to and fro over the ebony and ivory keys. The caress of a lover, deceptively loving, ever hating.

My song. He may hate with all the power that remains within him. But this is my song.

Neither here, nor there, he drifts in memories. Slowly drowning under exquisite torture. For there I was, as he saw me last. Beneath a sky much like tonight, a peaceful dark illuminated by moonlight. A light breeze ruffling the trees, breaking the hold the heat had on us. Stifling. Infuriating. Provoking.

Words, like knives hurtle to and fro. Calculated to sting. Unintended pain. It was the same. Yet different. There were no apologies, even as everything came to a grinding halt. Every joy ignored. Every pain magnified.

The song builds to a crescendo.

An expensive vase, thrown carelessly. Shattering in a cloud of angry white shards. Plummeting to the carpeted floor. A single crash and silence. A threat unheeded. The start of forever.

He whispers once more, enunciating clearly in whispers, words he would never forget.

Die then and leave me be.

Jump and be at peace.

Whine no more, wench.

Anger. There was so much anger. His mind abandons the present completely for the past, as he hears me whisper goodbye once more. Curls that forever frame my face wave in a gesture of farewell as I stand on the ledge, he walks away and doesn't see the tears track down my face.

Goodbye.

Falling.

Falling.

Fallen.

He turns then, and I remember, floating up, weightless, embraced by Them, as They welcome me to Their fold. They smile and point, him. A broken figure, curled on the floor in grief.

NoNoNoNoNo.

Fascinated I delve more into the voice that echoes endlessly. Ricocheting around the walls and going through me in delicious waves.

Don'tLeaveDon'tLeaveDon'tLeave

They teach me then, guiding my luminescent hands to his heart and taught me. I cradled his heart, unsure of what to do.

They smiled.

They always, always smiled.

Powerful thuds, loud and fast. I stroke with my thumb and I hear quiet whimpers. I looked at Them in wonder. And in turn They guide me, full of tenderness. They tightened my grip.

Squeeze.

He hurts and I smile.

We smile.

Raw anguish. So potent. An intoxicating drug feeding me, encasing my broken heart in steel. I will never leave you. A smile and I gently cradle his heart, squeezing harder and harder still with every moment that passes, he sobs but he doesn't stop.

He can't stop.

With bleeding fingers he will play. With frostbite damaged nerves, he will play. I love you…

Forcefully he ends the song. Head no longer light, determination no longer present. He leans forward, refusing to see me. A pathetic broken figure of a man.

It matters not. My presence here is not out of wish to be seen, only to be felt. He acknowledges me by anticipation of pain, it is enough. I release him and bid him good night, leaving a tender kiss upon his pale lips.

I am regret. I am guilt. I am remorse. And I will never leave you.

Door-knocking

So.. I wrote this over a week ago, with the intent of posting it on this very blog:

*

"You know when you’re heart is beating so hard that you can feel the veins in your neck grotesquely pulsing, and just about every part of you is in pain as your stomach clenches nervously..? Yes. That.

By nature I am not a very brave person. I’m actually rather like the cowardly Lion. I’d rather hide behind the ginger kid, serving her up as a sacrificial lamb rather than face anything remotely scary head on.

To be fair, I’ve been told ginger kids are supposed to be sacrificial lambs.

Aha! Forgive me, I’ve just broken my fast, and my inner snark is itching to be released.

But to be serious..

I am rather cowardly."

*

The feeling of being petrified passed, but I thought it'd be a shame not to share my utter terror over sending a simple email. Yes. Sending an email.

To be fair the email may or may not change my life for the better, but still - it was only an email.

Change does terrify me though, which is weird.. Considering I moved a lot as a kid, and saying hello in front of a large classroom full of curious eyes happened at least once every three or so years. But it seems that along the way, the mere notion of change freezes me up.

It's one of those things I'm trying to deal with - wish me luck!

Knocking on doors shouldn't be too hard, right?

I'm really sorry that I occasionally serve up really annoying, cryptic posts. ;)

Bags ahoy!

And not the type I'm obsessed over either. Talking about bags under my eyes, great, big, black bags that make me look like I've not slept in years.

Below is a very careful, very accurate picture of me:


Although I was informed that the hair was nowhere near curly enough to resemble me. So this was my second attempt:

I'm guessing it's still not curly enough, as my hair has the tendency to frazzle under stress. Not that I'm stressed. I don't think I am anyhoo.

I just REALLY need to be at the beach. NOW.

I was over at The Dork's house (hence known as D or Dork) the other day with Bee (buzz buzz), The Overachiever (hence known as TO), and Quin.. And we were having fun, just relaxing, watching a movie that seemingly went no where.. Well, I say 'we'. They watched the movie, I fell asleep about a quarter of the way in. It was SO NICE.

I miss bumming around so much. Jakarta is.. hectic. I love this city but I always feel like I'm hurtling towards something. Even in traffic I feel rushed.

I just need a quick weekend getaway.

I. Must. Stop, Downloading. Pr0n

Bet that got your attention.

I blew my load a little early on this particular post. Pretty much anything I'll say after this will sound boring. So ADIEU!

*floats away quite elegantly*


(My blog seems rather abandoned lately. I felt obligated to post.)

A random awesome person in this random awesome world

Around 2 years ago, I was faffing around on the internets, all broken hearted and sad and generally not feeling all that great, and I stumbled upon An Awesome Book.. click the link! In fact.. look at the cover of the book, and you wont be able to resist clicking this link!



I don't remember how I found it, but I was there and it cheered me up infinitely. It's such a wonderful little book about dreaming, and dreaming big, and never stopping. I loved it so much that I stalked the author to his blog and wrote an email to him, saying I hope he never stops. And he apparently never did (nothing to do with my email, I'm very sure!)..

A day or two ago I received a notification from twitter of someone requesting to 'follow' me, it was Mr. Dallas Clayton himself! Not sure what I clicked, but I declined his invite, but I went over to his page anyways, and I was reminded once more of how much I enjoyed his writing, and short illustrated poetry on his blog. So off I went once more, and it was just as fun as it was back then!

I like finding random awesome things on the internet :) To everyone who finds only misery on the web, it's obvious that this is because they never go about looking for the fun and wonderful things it offers! I'm constantly stumbling over absurdly creative people, whose brains I want to pick, and gorgeous, gorgeous minds that I end up befriending.

So yes. Dallas Clayton. And his Awesome Book. I want to buy it, and the cute dinosaur poster up on his site.. Which I'll definitely do next pay check.

Jimmy Eat World, Mousey Eat Liver

*cough* That's a very lame joke by the way, 'eat liver' is an Indonesian saying which basically means 'annoyed'.. It has nothing to do with this post, I just thought I'd share the very lame joke which I keep putting up because.. Drum roll please!

JIMMY EAT WORLD IS COMING TO JAKARTA!

F*CK YEAH!

.. Pardon my French, but yes. I'm super excited, because I'm a huge fan. I'm dragging along my evil twin to the gig because he's an awesome guy who said yes when I begged him.

Jimmy Eat World brings about the happy memories of listening to tapes at at a deafening volume, riding my bike after school, angsting over silly teenage things. They stayed with me as I spent nights driving with the music blaring (still at a deafening volume), while I drive through the cold, empty roads in Bandung at night.. Every album has it's own meaning for me, so yes.. I'm just a tiny bit excited.

.. The gig is April 3rd, and my heart has been beating a little faster at seeing them live ever since I first heard that they were coming.

Yes, I'm prone to exaggerating, and being dramatic. See this huge smile -> =D ..? It's 100 times larger in real life.

Dear J,

It's been a couple of months since I last thought of you.

I don't think I ever voiced my thoughts about you to anyone before. But today I feel like the world should hear about a wonderful soul that left way too early.

Do you remember when we first met? I don't. Not really. My memories of you are fading, and you'll never know how much that bothers me. I can't remember your eyes anymore. Were they squinty or wide? They never look right when I try to imagine your face again. If I try really hard, I think I can remember the sound of your voice, calling my name. I always thought you were a late bloomer because your voice hadn't fully broke yet, but there were hints of how your voice would sound when you laughed.

You know, one of the best memories I have with you is of you, me and Rhesa laughing because all three of us were failing both Maths AND Physics. Remember how we had competitions on who'd get the best score on quizzes? And how we never passed a quiz, yet there was always a clear winner.. That was fun! I don't remember how you reacted when I said that I was dating Rhesa, but I can still remember your huge grin when you smiled and said "he still REALLY likes you!" when we broke up sometime after.

I can still see your hair. That's weird, right? That I can still clearly see that hair, when it frustrates me that I can't remember much else about your appearance other that your lips and hair. Your semi-mohawk. Not because you were trying to be cool, you didn't even do it deliberately! Your hair just grew weird like that.

But seriously, I miss the way you laughed.

My memories of you in our first year of high school is filled with laughter and high fives and those few weeks that you first dissappeared. Did I try calling you? Did I text you? I don't remember anymore. But you were suddenly gone, and no one knew where you went. I must have looked for you, right? I must have..??? Because school was weird without you. And you know I don't get along with the girls in our class. You disappeared sometime before the epic fight between me and the girls happened. It was.. funny. You would have enjoyed it, I think.

I'm sorry that I wasn't really around for you when you came back. But I just didn't understand. And you were in a different class. And you kept disappearing again. I remember people talking about you. How they didn't like it that you kept disappearing in the middle of a week-long group assignment. I tried telling them that you were always responsible and that you wouldn't have left without a good reason. And I always looked forward to seeing you permanently-covered head bobbing past my classroom doors.

I wondered about your hats. And your sudden weight gain, but we were in high school, and people's physical appearance changed fast. I wondered, and I know you tried to tell me once.. I'm sorry I didn't listen. When you said "Hey you know last night's Julia Roberts movie? Dying Young?", I knew instantly, I wanted so badly to un-hear it. I was f*cking scared. I didn't let you finish and we spoke about classes instead.

I'm sorry I walked away before I could hug you.

I'm sorry I'm such a shitty friend.

Some stuff went down that year. And I left Bandung. I never got to see you again, and that will always be one of my biggest regrets.

Hey J.. I was devastated when someone casually mentioned you had passed away. She went to your church, and she said you got sick again. I don't remember how I reacted to the news, but I remember how I cried that night. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you. You deserve a better friend.

Do you know I still think of you? Every few months. And I wonder what you would have become had your cancer gone into remission. I think you would have gone into IT or something related to computers. I don't know why, as I don't even remember if you were any good with computers. We wouldn't be in regular contact, because you know what I'm like.. But we'd drop each other lines from time to time. I imagine you would have grown into your thick, pouty lips, and your strange semi-mohawk. Your laughter would be loud and joyful, and that grin.. That grin of yours that lit up the room, it would have gotten you a really cute girlfriend. That much I'm sure.

I think of you at the strangest time.. like when I'm driving to work.. and always there's a pang, and a flashback of you laughing. Of all the things I'll forget in the coming years, I hope your laughter wont be one of them.

So J, I hope that somewhere out there you feel loved. You still have people that care, who think of you from time to time. The world lost out on a lot when you went.

Much love,
A.