Universe, Exceptionally

"It's 'universe'. Without the 'nivere'."

~ A boy, progressively turning into a man. :)

Relationship : A Resignation to Imperfections

Relationship - re·la·tion·ship noun \-shən-ˌship\ - (n) : A particular type of connection existing between people related to or having dealings with each other.

'Having dealings', it says. What kind of dealings do you really have within every relationship? Human beings are odd; they were born alone and would die alone as well, but they even bother to seek love in between so that they don't feel alone. Do we get sickened by ourselves thus we need some kind of escapism? Is every relationship the pinnacle of all passive-aggressive deeds we conduct toward loneliness?

Relationship is messy - it requires a lot of compromises, self-reconstructions, and most consuming of all, feelings. We are all aware of this and yet we voluntarily get ourselves into it. Then why are we involving ourselves in it?


First logical reason is rather humane - as human beings we need love, compassion, attention, in which are obtainable within a (healthy) relationship.
Second logical reason is also rather humane - self-appreciation. We've gone through loads of shits and it's normal to crave for some appreciation. When solitude fails to provide self-appreciation, we need admiration (and/or devotion) from others to make us feel cherished. This is actually egoistic; thus, humane.
Third and probably last logical reason is also rather humane - self-improvement. Human beings always have expectations toward things in life, including themselves. They (we) hope for the best, and the persistent ones strive to be better. Being in a relationship can help them achieve this; a partner who is considered significant enough can literally alter them, sometimes, as expected, to be better.


What is it with the self-improvement things? After going through a lot of rainy & tough days, we admittedly are growing bitter and bitter everyday. Having ourselves been born as innocent child, this is an ultimate moral degradation. At this point, relationship chimes in and makes all of the senses. Interacting with (the right) people delights, eases, and reflects us. Being in a relationship, is whether two things : it comforts, or improves us.


First. Some relationships feel so easy to keep up. No plentiful reaching-out required, no significant compromise needed, no abundant hurtful feeling involved. Hence, no consequential improvement is achieved. There's nothing much left to be figured out, for both partners understand each other and get along quite well. It's most of the times sugar and spice everything is nice, and to have such relationship is tremendously comforting.


Second. Some other relationships are a bit hard to keep up. Both partners usually argue a lot, for they're distinguished. There are plenty of reaching-outs required, as well as compromises and heartache(s). But as much as how bad it sounds, it actually helps both partners grow up and improve. As long as they are fully committed and willing to stick around each other, it doesn't matter how much the goings-on bring them down, because the relationship itself enriches them. They learn how to compromise, settle down, adjust; hence, turns them to be better. It often beats the shit out of their egos, but the thing speaks for itself - they learn how to cherish imperfections.


I have experienced both, and as age matures us, I think what we essentially need the most is the latter. Having this pessimistic, childlike, cryptic own self to bear for a lifetime, I need someone to polish my flaws not to be covered, but instead to be... acceptable. Because after all, what we need in life is never a perfection - but rather a resignation to imperfections.


(Thank, you.)

Relationship - re·la·tion·ship noun \-shən-ˌship\ - (n) : A particular type of connection existing between different people associated to alteration, improvement, and compromised imperfections toward each other.

Mnemonic

Hello, my virtual depot of consciousness.


So lately I've been thinking and tracking back and realized how much I've grown up. I have a gorgeous friend named Vee whom I knew from Jakarta Fashion Week 2010. We worked together and we got along pretty well. She's half Indonesian, but since she's spent most of her life overseas, she can barely speak Bahasa Indonesia. Through times, we've developed some things between us and I actually learned a lot from her. She's the baddest baddass I've ever seen and I saw plenty of guys are head over heels for her.


She's insanely rich but there's more of her beyond that. She's not the prettiest girl of all (although she IS pretty), but her personality is something I cannot take my eyes off. She's flown off the handle several times, but eventually she always found herself a grip and hung on sturdily to it. She's gone through break-ups, survived through some jerk's traps, and yet always managed to keep her chin up. And if there'e one thing I can say to distinguish her from any other girl is, she always has this swag and she seems to always manage to make her mind up toward stuffs and sticks to it. So that is what actually inspired me to take this certain decision a few days ago.


You see, universe works in a weird way. One day it took something off you, then things went on, world kept spinning around, then it gave that certain something back to your lap. And when that happens, never ever ever trust your heart. It may scream loudly for possessions, but after all, it's merely being insensible. A heart wants what a heart wants, but a heart never know what it wants in the first place after all.  If there's one thing I could ever learn from losing something you've once had, is that it's been done for a reason. Once your senses speak for itself, you shall listen. You can let go of anything/anyone, but NEVER of your senses. No matter how hurtful it is, you gotta look up and see what's best for YOU, not your heart only. This is what I've learned from Vee.


A dear friend of mine also asked me a simple question :
"Would you rather be smart or be happy?"
When most people choose the latter, I choose to be smart. Not just because of that I'm a pretentious smart ass, but I think happiness is just a state of mind after all. If you're not happy, your smart mind would be able to manage to manipulate some joyful feelings, I believe.


So, people, if you're being coerced to choose some difficult desicion, ponder about it, sleep it away, take a jiffy breath, and spill it out. Nothing bad that's ever come out of a smart decision. You can be smart AND happy, but you cannot be dumb and happy. Well at least it won't last.




Cheerios, I'll be watching you fade away with a smile while I'm trying to mend my heart up. :)

Let's Take A Vacation To The Outer Space

P.S :

Not all of the lyrics are relevant, but not all of the lyrics are irrelevant either.

Damn it, woman.

Insensible sensibility

It's been a while that I didn't mention you in my blog while the fact is, you're often implied.
I keep comparing, you're always winning.
I still replay you in my loneliest nights.
I still put you into my "what-ifs" scenarios.
I tried to walk away, but I always left traces that I could track back.
I tried to talk as if nothing ever happened, but my memories kept refreshing by its own.


I'm not in love, I'm just being insensible.
I'm not in love, but my heart is just being sensible.
I'm NOT in love.
I'm only in jail, counting down my days to freedom, hoping to be bailed out.


The only thing that keeps my chin up is what's left in me after I set you free.
I have to set you free once again.


Looking at everything closely,
Now I know I really have to get you out of my system, forever.

The Umpteenth Life Question

When everything gets less and less and less every single day, can you enlighten me the way & mere reason you live, struggle, hold on your faith, listen, seek, bear, and most of all, march along?


Just for what it's worth, please tell me. No, whisper to me :
What is it like to be normal? To be nurtured? To have someone to look up to and to share the burden you're weighing?


I've grown bitter and I'm slowly shutting myself down.
I've never heard silence quite this loud, I've never seen vacancy quite this abundant.

Alexander McQueen Spring 2012 RTW

This is Sarah Burton’s third work on McQueen’s empire since his heartbreaking death last February 2010. This collection of hers emphasizes on 3 Gs : She based her collection on the three Gs : Grès for the pleating and draping, Gaudí for the architecture, and Gaia, the wonder of the sea, for the sense of oceanic life depicted on every piece of clothing. Just like going under the water, we had to hold our breath examining the entire collection. Bet it took profound deliberation to make Sarah decided to take this aquatic theme for McQuen’s Spring 2012 RTW fashion collection, remembering that her forerunner took the same big bottomline for his Spring 2010 collection which was called “Plato’s Atlantis”. The one that distinguishes their own collection is, if Alexander McQueen himself saw the world was threatened by global warming and human being were forced to be trapped in such an apocalyptic oceanic life, Sarah this time took a bit more different path : she saw the life in the sea as something worth worshipped for, softer yet as powerful & mysterious as McQueen had always been.

Pastel colors almost dominated the collection, with dark black & sumptuous coral pieces slipped in between. One thing that we remember the most was those lace masks that wrapped around and seemed to eat the models alive, turned them into some kind of new species of sea creatures. We were all pleased with the parade of sharply constructed blazers & skirts, feathery gown, leather cocktail dresses in which some were formed in barnacle pattern over chiffon. Not to mention the coral, voluminous gown that flows flawlessly on the runway. If it’s really what it’s like to live under the water, bet we all now longs to have scales and fins then dive into the sea and swim between the corals & barnacles.

Oscar Wilde's The Picture of Dorian Gray - Preface

"The artist is the creator of beautiful things.

To reveal art and conceal the artist is art's aim.

The critic is he who can translate into another manner or a new material his impression of beautiful things.

The highest as the lowest form of criticism is a mode of autobiography.

Those who find ugly meanings in beautiful things are corrupt without being charming. This is a fault.

Those who find beautiful meanings in beautiful things are the cultivated. For these there is hope. 

They are the elect to whom beautiful things mean only beauty.

There is no such thing as a moral or an immoral book. Books are well written, or badly written. That is all.

The 19th century dislike of realism is the rage of Caliban seeing his own face in a glass.

The 19th century dislike of romanticism is the rage of Caliban not seeing his own face in a glass.

The moral life of man forms part of the subject-matter of the artist, but the morality of art consists in the perfect use of an imperfect medium.

No artist desires to prove anything. Even things that are true can be proved.

No artist has ethical sympathies. An ethical sympathy in an artist is an unpardonable mannerism of style.

No artist is ever morbid. The artist can express everything.

Thought and language are to the artist instruments of an art. Vice and virtue are to the artist materials for an art.

From the point of view of form, the type of all the arts is the art of the musician.

From the point of view of feeling, the actor's craft is the type.

All art is at once surface and symbol.

Those who go beneath the surface do so at their peril. Those who read the symbol do so at their peril.

It is the spectator, and not life, that art really mirrors.

Diversity of opinion about a work of art shows that the work is new, complex, and vital.

When critics disagree, the artist is in accord with himself.

We can forgive a man for making a useful thing as long as he does not admire it.

The only excuse for making a useless thing is that one admires it intensely.

All art is quite useless."

-- OSCAR WILDE (The Picture of Dorian Gray - Preface)

(P.S : And the brilliance of this book surely doesn't stop. All of the lines above are only the preface, people. Just thought that Wilde's infatuated me THAT much I needed to post it here.)

La douleur exquise

CONFIDENTIAL CONTENT

Vagabond

You know what doesn't make sense?

When some joyful, upbeat rhytms played on your both earlobes, a stack of tasks await to be done in front of your face, stare at your puffy sleepless eyes, yet after all you're still being voluntarily steered by this certain person within your mind.

Tobogganing in the jungle of nonsense thoughts, imagining some unachieved dreams, then get knocked off by reality.

You know what doesn't make sense? When you already have a settled gravity, yet you refuse to stay and be a vagabond instead; wandering around the circle of uncertainty. That is, people, what doesn't make sense.