latenightthoughtsandstories

[latenightthoughtsandstories]

Aku ingin mencoba menulis sesuatu siang ini namun tidak tau harus memulai dari mana.

Tembok berlapis kayu dan tiga cermin bundar dengan lampu yang tertanam di belakangnya.

Musik yang diputar - dan sakit kepala. Bukan karena musiknya. Karena hormon sedang rendah sekali.

Semangkuk Labneh XO yang ternyata enak sekali. Porsinya sedikit terlalu banyak untuk aku sendirian namun habis juga.

Aku tidak tau harus merasa bagaimana.

Sedih? Tidak.

Kata yang paling tepat yang bisa aku utarakan yaitu, aku merasa aneh.

Baru saja membaca sebuah tulisan yang bilang kalau Tuhan belum akan memberkahi hamba-Nya jika hamba-Nya belum bisa memperlakukan dengan baik berkah tersebut.

Contohnya, Tuhan belum akan memberkahi hamba-Nya dengan pemasukan yang lebih jika hamba-Nya belum bisa mengatur keuangan dengan bijak dan tepat guna.

Tuhan belum akan memberkahi hamba-Nya dengan kesuksesan sebelum hamba-Nya memiliki kerendahan hati.

Tuhan belum akan memberkahi hamba-Nya dengan pernikahan, sebelum hamba-Nya merasa cukup dengan Tuhan sendiri.

Mungkin benar? Karena Tuhan sayang betul dengan hamba-Nya yang cukup keras kepala ini.

[latenightthoughtsandstories]

He found me.

I didn't have to try to find him when we went shopping at the supermarket, because before I realize, he's already there, standing next to me, smiling, saying, "I want to be next to you"

I didn't have to wait for his texts, because I know, even when we fell silent, he will texts me somehow, asking the most mundane question, just to initiate conversation again.

I never have to second-guess his intention, his feelings, his actions, his words, his efforts.

It does feel so easy, so simple. I finally know, what it feels like to be found. This is what it feels like :)

[latenightthoughtsandstories]

22 September, 2023.

I often find myself wondering, "What does it feels like to meet your soulmate?"

And when I do, I find it quite amusing, because it seems like my soulmate has arrived in my life, unannounced, sweeping me off of my feet without warning.

It's an unintentional occurrence, unfolding slowly, steadily, and with unwavering certainty.

I first sense his presence in the room, and everytime when we were together, though honestly, I did not understand what the difference in the air was suppose to mean.

Then, it unfolds in the effortless way we converse with each other, the way we want to understand each other's way of thinking and being, the consideration we show one another, and the gradual nurturing of our friendship.

It is in the reciprocal nature of our connection, the patience we extend to each other, and the shared desire for each other's well-being.

It is in the way we become intertwined, in the way we don't need to excessively explain ourself because we easily understands each other, and in the comfort in being able to be our truest selves.

We just know that our intentions are pure, and our hearts are aligned.

There's an indescribable connection in the way we look at each other, there is no awkwardness when we are gazing at each other, there is no need to try to fill in the silence, and it does feels like we've finally found that missing piece we've been searching for. I dare say that perhaps, this is what it feels like to finally meet your soulmate. It feels like being welcomed home in your truest self and being celebrated for it.

[latenightthoughtsandstories]

“To fall in love with the world isn’t to ignore or overlook suffering, both human or otherwise. For me anyway, to fall in love with the world is to look up at the night sky and feel your mind swim before the beauty and the distance of the stars. It is to hold your children while they cry and watch the sycamore trees leaf out in June. When my breastbone starts to hurt, and my throat tightens and tears well in my eyes, I want to look away from feeling. I want to deflect with irony or anything else that will keep me from feeling directly. We all know how loving ends. But I want to fall in love with the world anyway, to let it crack me open. I want to feel what there is to feel while I am here.”

― John Green, The Anthropocene Reviewed

[latenightthoughtsandstories]

knitted forest friends

[latenightthoughtsandstories]

ghost with a dollar

[latenightthoughtsandstories]

[latenightthoughtsandstories]

[latenightthoughtsandstories]

Don’t settle. Don’t finish crappy books. If you don’t like the menu, leave the restaurant. If you’re not on the right path, get off it.

Chris Brogan (via sunsetquotes)

[latenightthoughtsandstories]

Desember 2022.

Sore ini, memberi hati pengertian untuk tidak lagi memaksakan yang bukan seharusnya. Melepaskan, mengembalikan kepada semesta. Melatih diri untuk memilih melepaskan. Melepaskan sikap keras kepala tentang seharusnya situasi ini bagaimana. Karena dari runtutan doa, Semesta seperti bergeleng heran dan berkata,

"Bukankah sudah jelas?".

Perlu waktu lama bagiku untuk bisa menerima. Bisa mengalah dari ego sendiri saat sudah sangat banyak pertanda yang hadir, bahkan di saat kita masih bersama.

Di antara isak tangis, seolah Tuhan membisikan ke dalam hati,

"capek ya memaksakan harusnya bagaimana?"

Seperti sadar, memang sakit sekali memaksakan yang belum tentu takdir, maka, aku berserah. 

Sesaat, muncul ketenangan. Rasa tenang yang luar biasa, yang sudah bertahun-tahun tidak aku rasakan, tenang yang tetap, seolah juga mengatakan, "Tenang saja.. semua sudah sempurna, sesuai dengan apa yang harus terjadi.  Semesta sedang bekerja. Tenang saja.”

[latenightthoughtsandstories]

November, 2022.

My mind reasoned with me, suggesting, that perhaps this is how it should be between us. That we were destined to lead each other to our current places in life. That I guide you back home, to Jakarta and you rekindle my love once more. Then we continue our separate journeys. But my heart... She insisted that I cling to those tiny flickers of hope, persistently lingering in the far corners of our connection, even as my mind urged them to fade away, for everything seemed so impossible. Those minuscule glimmers of hope, akin to the dim lights one might find in a slumbering town, endured. My heart whispered a prayer, fervently believing in the possibility of miracles. That you would find the strength to forgive. That your heart would expand, would grow so big that it conquers the anger. That we would gather the fortitude to face our battles. That we both carried each other's names in our prayers. That perhaps God had inscribed our names in destiny. That the universe was diligently working to unravel this mess. That it was guarding us. That it was on our side. That our paths would converge once more. That, at this very moment, we were meant to be exactly where we are now.

[latenightthoughtsandstories]

November 23rd, 2022.

My brain told me,  To let go of the idea that you might love me, to let go of the idea that I am the one who ignites your morning enthusiasm, to let go of the belief that my presence brings you happiness, to let go of the hope that you desire me just as I am, to let go of the dream of us finding common ground, to let go on the prospect of facing the world together, to let go of the vision of growing old together, to bid farewell to the idea of creating a home together.

But my heart...

My heart, against all logic, told me to stay, to endure things a bit longer, to try a bit harder, to persist in prayer, to hold onto the hope of a miracle, to believe in us once more, to trust that destiny bound us.

My heart insisted, I should not let you go, I should not give up, not yet,  not now.

My heart, refused to let go.

[latenightthoughtsandstories]

November 10th, 2022.

And that's the complexity of my feelings for him. Right now, I find it impossible to stop loving him, to extinguish these emotions.  Even after he yelled at me during our arguments. Even after he referred to me as mere property. Even after enduring countless moments of pain that he knew, he caused.  Even after he get annoyed for me telling him how it hurts me when he liked and commented on that girl’s post I don’t like on Instagram. Even after he left me multiple times during our arguments.  He left. He just left. Even after he once told me these arguments are not worth his time.  Even after he told me, talking to me was boring.  Even after he told me, I don’t have what it takes to achieve what I want. 

I always manage to forgive, to accept, to understand. At the end of the day, I love him, imperfections and all. He once asked me, "Why me? You could have dated anyone you want" Why I embraced his darkest thoughts. Why I chuckled at his silly jokes. Why I delved into his quirky world. Why I cherished his hands. Why I admired his hair. Why I adored his tummy and fat ass. Why I found charm in his mismatched socks. Why I treasured his beautiful handwriting. Why I was captivated by his mind. Why I comforted him through his tears. Why I gazed into his eyes. Why I safeguarded his secrets. It is clear,  I love him. But for him. The one mistake I made.  Despite everything we'd been through.  My love proved insufficient for his forgiveness. In contrast, it took little effort for me to forgive him. I always found it in my heart to forgive him easily. And yet, in the end, I understand. I understand, why he can't forgive me. I understand.

[latenightthoughtsandstories]

Berkenalan dengan diri sendiri.

Di usia ku yang ke 29 tahun, aku memutuskan untuk bekenalan lagi dengan diri sendiri. 

Mulai dengan sungguh untuk mempelajari tentang diri dan mencoba membangun identitas sendiri. 

Melepaskan dari asosiasi dan peran yang diberikan oleh keluargaku selama aku bertumbuh. 

Belajar memisahkan identitas ‘aku’ dan identitas besar yang deiberikan padaku semenjak aku mulai memasuki usia remaja dan tanpa sadar menjadi ‘identias’ ku yang aku gunakan sebagai kompas aku menjalani hari-hariku. 

Aku sebagai anak perempuan, anak pertama, kakak tertua, sepupu tertua, dan lainnya. 

Sebagian besar aktivitas yang aku lakukan berlandaskan pemenuhan peran-peranku. 

Sebagian besar keputusan yang aku ambil karena aku mendengarkan suara-suara di luar yang aku pikir akan memenuhi peranku dengan baik.

Suara kecil yang kerap hadir dalam hatiku kerap aku abaikan dan aku minta untuk mengalah.

Suara kecil dalam hati yang semakin tidak memiliki kuasa karena tidak pernah didengarkan. 

Karena aku memberitahu dia kalau aku harus mengalah agar aku bisa memenuhi peran dengan baik. 

Karena aku memberitahu dia kalau aku harus mengutamakan kebahagiaan orang lain. 

Tanpa sadar, suara kecilku pun semakin menghilang. 

Aku hidup menanti suara dari luar. 

Tanpa sadar aku sering merasa kesepian, merasa kebingungan, merasa tidak tenang dan merasa tidak tau arah saat tidak ada suara-suara permintaan dari luar. 

Aku telah menggantungkan hidupku memenuhi peran yang diberikan. 

Dan rasanya.. menyebalkan. 

Di usia 29 tahun, aku belajar kalau rasa sepi, bingung, tidak tenang dan tidak tau arah yang aku rasakan adalah karena aku kerap mengabaikan suara kecilku. 

Di usia 29 tahun, aku belajar kalau rasa penuh, utuh, tenang dan yakin bisa ada jika aku memilih untuk mendengarkan dan memilih suara kecil dalam hati. 

Di usia 29 tahun, aku belajar kalau setiap keputusan untuk memilih mendengarkan dan melakukan apa yang suara kecil inginkan sama dengan memilih diri sendiri. 

Di usia 29 tahun, aku belajar mulai membiasakan untuk berhenti sejenak dalam banyak hal, dalam banyak informasi yang aku terima, dalam banyak diam untuk mendengarkan, dalam banyak kegiatan yang aku kerjakan. 

Di usia 29 tahun, aku mulai belajar mengikuti suara kecil yang lama tidak terdengar. Memilih aku. 

Di usia 29 tahun, aku mulai mendengarkan apa yang mau dia sampaikan dan mengikuti keinginannya. 

Di usia 29 tahun, aku berkenalan dengan apa yang sebenarnya dia sukai, dia tidak sukai, dia hargai, dia takuti, dia sesali, dia harapkan. 

Di usia 29 tahun, aku memilih untuk perlahan dan pasti membangun kenyataan internal yang sesuai dengan permintaan suara kecil dalam hati. 

Di usia 29 tahun, aku berkenalan lagi dengan diri sendiri :)

[latenightthoughtsandstories]

Been a while since I do a repost, but my, this is so comforting.

@Angelahao_art 🎨🖌️

[latenightthoughtsandstories]

19:59 PM | Tuesday, 16th Aug ‘22 | St. Martin’s Gate, Birmingham

It finally rained today after 10 days of unusually high temperature here in Birmingham and all over UK. It felt strange. Not like the UK I knew for the longest time. 

At around 3 pm, the grey clouds paraded in, bringing that greyish mood in the atmosphere back. At 3.30pm it started drizzling. The drizzle went on for 2 hours. Enough to bring the temperature down. 

I walked out of the apartment and found a more familiar view. Familiar feeling

Like the gloomy ol’Blightly that I knew for the longest time. 

People hates rainy, gloomy day. They say it makes them depressed. 

I love it. I love that grey, rainy days. The drops of water. The cold temperature. The view of people rushing to take shelter. The puddle. The wind. Every seconds of it, to me, are beautiful. 

Those days makes me feel warm inside. Safe. Alive.

Also, simply being back in this city again. Immersing in the gloomy days. Gazing out to the obscured view of New Street Station and Bull Ring (thanks to the scaffolding). Ed Sheeran’s song playing in the background. 

My heart is full. 

[latenightthoughtsandstories]

22:53pm | Monday, 15th Aug ‘22 | St. Martin’s Gate, Birmingham

Day 11 after arriving in this city on the 5th of August. One and a half week went by warmly. Warm in its literal sense of temperature and warm as a feeling of familiarity, welcomeness, closeness, openess, beautiful surprises and delicious cakes & foods. 

It was the day of my arrival when I saw him holding a beautiful flower bouquet, all shy and rigid, wearing a while polo and dark knee-length pants. Headphones in his neck, broken glasses and a backpack. This time, this trip surely feels different. 180′ different than last year. As if it is waiting to happen for everything went by rightly. 

I cried only once after 11 days versus, I don’t know how many last year, even during only the first week. I wonder why too, I cried a lot on my trip last year. 

Earlier today, I went out to buy an electric toothbrush all the way to Sainsbury Selly Oak. The clock shows 3pm when I left the apartment and took bus number 61 from New Street bus stop NS3. 

As the bus carried me through Bristol Road, I peered outside the window and flashbacks of moments from 9 years ago resurfaced. Triggered by familiar scenery of red brick houses, view of students crycling, Chinese restaurants and the magnificent Aston Webb and Old Joe from the university..