Overlooked

Do you realize how busy people is? How hectic the world and the whole universe is? Best things are now invented to make everything is easier, more practical and even more, in my personal opinion, ignorant.

Have you ever wonder where they headed? I mean those busy people. The hectic world. The hectic universe. Where are we going?

And even after everything, they are still not happy. And they keep busy, and, are they happy?

Was is ever worthed? All those efforts?

Is there still any room for love, tears and compassion? Or are they in a hurry also? In a hectic-hectic mode on also? Do we still have time for a 3 seconds hugs with people we care about?

Have we been overlooked all those quiet and silences?

Oh, how I wonder.

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Wanted, but nowhere to find.

In the big family of my mom’s side, where you can find many-many kinds of family drama-and we now have learned to laugh over them-, me and my cousins have a similar symptoms of a fugitive: wanted, but nowhere to find.

When I was 8, as I’m told by my nanny (at the time) and neighbors, I had a pile of clothes wrapped in a big fabric, we called it here ‘buntelan kain’. When I remember that I had a younger brother, I made a higher pile of the ‘buntelan kain’. Here’s a simple visual brief of the first kind of bag I ever know beside my yellow Tuxedosam school bag.

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Image is from a website: http://www.mainmakan.com/?p=1013

Now, imagine that high pile, put them all on a big fabric and wrap them up. More or less, is going to look like this.

Well, at the time it was a lace fabric, leftover from one of my mom’s (she was a tailor) client. And in a way you can put the ‘buntelan kain’ on your shoulder. So you, would look like this, er, more or less. And yes, most of the time, I didn’t wear any sandals, socks, foot wrap. Just went total on Tom Sawyer mode.

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Tom Sawyer

So every other night, I would pack my things and wait until dark and silent, so I can walk out the door and leave my house. The funny thing is, at first my nanny was panicked to not find me on the bed. So she looked for me everywhere in the house. She knows very well about my up and down moods, how easily disappointed I was. She remembered that and started to try to find me outside the house. Her works wasn’t really hard, because then she found me in front of my house, falling asleep with my head on the ‘buntelan kain’. Wondering in her mind and holding her laugh inside, it was 3 am, she said, my nanny carried me back on bed. And I woke up innocently, didn’t remember anything about it.

For a while later on, she asked her son (who is 7-10 years older than me), to stake out on me every night. It went on for years. Some nights were very dramatic with tears and get tired my self, fell asleep inside a little booth where all the local security worked, made friends with troubled teenager in the area (was occassionally drunk and very chatty like crazy to me at the time)-this boy turned out to be a good man in the end-, seeing and hearing things I never thought I would at night (and this no means in whatsoever meanings of ghost)-never understood what they were, actually-, and found my own peace sleeping on the road side under the stars. I was just disappointed with too many mosquitos surrounding me.

Almost everyone knows, I’ve been learned, including my neighbours. But my own parents didn’t. When they knew it, I already done with the phase.

Later on I’ve learned that at the same time, my cousin, DD, who is 3 years older than me, struggling with the ‘dynamic’ of life. She put her stuff in a suitcase, yes a real suitcase, and put it at the corner of her room. When she was 18, she put her passport inside the suitcase also. She brought the suitcase to her friend’s home, put it there, so ‘in case of emergency’ she said, she can use the suitcase to start a new life somewhere else-not home.

My brother has a rather different kind of symptom. He bought like 5 or 9 motorcycle helmet and put them like everywhere. He planted couple shirts here and there to managed to be able to go anywhere needed.

There was a time when I myself bring my passport everywhere in my bag. My boyfriend at the time found out about this, and he gently asked me one night, “Babe, are we going somewhere?”

I don’t know what happened. I just love to have my choices in my bag. The consequences that no one could understand (really) about my habit to bring my toiletries everywhere everytime was more like a privilege for me. To feel freedom, or at least a sense of it. Especially when I know I actually had no other choice but to stay and deal with whatever hell in front of me. Then I put my passport inside my bag, and there was born, a new choice, for me to consider on.

For some of my friends, this makes me a fugitive. They believe that I’m wanted (by them, from time to time), but I was never anywhere to find, physically. Well, here goes the hard-truth-fact, along with the irony for you. It wouldn’t matter wether I was there or not with you guys. Or with anybody else. We all know that. Life goes on.

Life happens.

And I will still carry that passport in my bag.

So keep up, my beautiful friends, I will see you when I see you ^_^

me and my new version of 'buntelan kain'

me and my new version of ‘buntelan kain’

Categories: mess | Tags: , , , , | 1 Comment

Sending you the Stars

Dear my Unborn Child,

Spread your arms wide open up there.

‘Cos I’m sending you the stars.

Be good, baby ^_^

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I miss you..

Categories: a letter to my unborn child, thoughts | Tags: , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Why Film? – Part one.

I was planning to be a farmer, believe me. And focusing on putting strategy about how to live in that world without having to deal with snakes and worms in any kind of contact form. Not even pictures. Then I saw a farmer gets his feet down for planting Paddy Rice on TV and I knew instantly that I picked the wrong dream. But I was 12, I believe that I can be anything, a famous singer even, yeah. Bathroom singer specialist. Sounds good.

Then when I was 13, my parents decided to get divorce. It may be a trendsetter in US then and now many people see it as a daily activities slipped in the corner of every morning newspaper. But I was struggling hard to accept it. I was crashed and drowned deep. I took my self out of my friends, family, pushed my bf away -yes I had a bf at the time, a good one actually-and I believe there was some suicide attempts, maybe-now that I remember it-, were more like attempts to find out if I could feel hurt even more.

Even as a 13 year old I had too many thoughts in my head.

Things were not getting better after those event, one of the most important key-turning-points in my life. Mom was moving here and there a lot, the cat and mice drama, the messenger role that was forced on me-and the messages was all sucks-, custody, sharing my life with both of them-one week living with mom (which could be anywhere else), and another week living with dad. My life was practically packed in my backpack: books, and clean or dirty laundry-depends on whose week at the time, mom’s or dad’s.

It was a total mess. I was longing to scream out loud, but all I can find was my pillow, silently hold my tears at night, when everyone is sleeping. The only loyal friend for me was a 60 cm x 60 cm fabric sheet, I got it from mom’s sewing cabinet, a leftover fabric from one of her sewing order. Almost every night I packed up my things in the fabric, tied it up, and look around for when is the right time to go. And almost every night I changed my mind on what I should bring or what time is the best to go. But I wanted to go. Don’t know where, just go.

I never did. Because I realized I had a younger brother, who I believed sensed a lot at the time, but really just have no idea what was happened. So I decided to put some of his things in my fabric sheet, and wait a little bit longer before I can take him with me. Doesn’t matter where to.

When I was at the end of my 13, my cousins took me to a cinema. I believe we were running away from a big family event. And the first movie I watched was Candy Man.

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Candyman, 1992

Candyman is a 1992 American horror film starring Virginia Madsen, Tony Todd and Xander Berkeley. It was directed by Bernard Rose and is based on the short story “The Forbidden” by Clive Barker, though the film’s scenario is switched from England to the Cabrini–Green public housing development on Chicago’s Near North Side. The plot follows a graduate student completing a thesis on urban legends who encounters the legend of “Candyman”, an artist and son of a slave who was murdered and his hand replaced with a hook. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Candyman_%28film%29).

I never watched any horror movies on big screen anymore until now.

But I started to watched more movies, such as Jurrasic Park, Mrs. Doubtfire, Speed, Baby Day’s Out, The Lion King, even True Lies, the one that wasn’t passed the censorship at the time. Wait, where did I watched True Lies? Definitely not in the theatre.

I kept coming back, with or without my cousins. I would be the first person to get inside the theatre. My routine was simple. I get in, put my backpack under my feet, sit down, and wait. Wait until they turned down the light. Until all I can see is that big screen, where I get to see things that I’ve never seen. People who talks in different language and seemed to have a very dramatic life.

I got busy catching up with the Indonesian subtitles, and running my eyes to every corner of the frame, trying to understand, what are they doing. And when I do, I don’t want it to end. I don’t want to go. I don’t want to go home or back, anymore. I just want to stay. In that deep darkness, silently surrender with what the big screen offered.

I sometimes fell asleep too, the trip from our home to the cinema was 2 hours-more or less-. And until now, I believe the best nap I ever had was one of those naps I had inside the theatre.

My busy mind stopped running for a while, well, in approximately 90 minutes-give or take-, that room and everything inside it decided for me on what I will think of. My endless sadness, painful shame, well-constructed blame and lonely feelings transformed into curiosities. And there was no going back, but just move ahead, follow their lead. Follow the Hero and her/his journey. And those big screens, how can you ever able to runaway from it? I rest my head on the comfortable seat, and life happens. What happens outside the theatre was not important anymore, whatever people say or judge or any worries were no longer reside inside my head or big imaginary bubble I setup to protect myself.

For a while, in that (approximately) 2 hours running time, I’m gladly-happily-let my self lost in that world. And never once disappointed, because everything will be okay in the end.

Everything will always be okay in the end. All you need to do is just get through it.

Oh, well. What a hollywood-brat I was.

Categories: film, thoughts | Tags: , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Olympus has fallen, me not.

When the White House (Secret Service Code: “Olympus”) is captured by a terrorist mastermind and the President is kidnapped, disgraced former Presidential guard Mike Banning finds himself trapped within the building. As our national security team scrambles to respond, they are forced to rely on Banning’s inside knowledge to help retake the White House, save the President and avert an even bigger crisis. Antoine Fuqua (Training Day) directs an all-star cast featuring Gerard Butler, Aaron Eckhart, Morgan Freeman, Angela Bassett, Melissa Leo, Ashley Judd and Rick Yune.

ImageIn a tradition where one hero will save all, and it means: all, the movie offers nothing new. And when you’re familiar with the pattern, a simple low note with the music scoring tells you that the Villain gets in from the front door. Don’t even go to the perfect-perfect composition the shots offered when the grand scene arrives, when the Korean guys gets inside the White House complex. And the scanner at the front door scanned the bones of fast moving subjects, identified the people sophisticatedly, tells us that all is well. All is well. And we simply know by then, all is actually, not well. And so the camera gets in closer to Kang. That’s when we know, err, that’s when I know, he is the Villain. Otherwise, why the camera bother track into him?..

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Rick Yune as Kang, the Terrorist Mastermind.

Nothing is too hard to discovered in the beginning of the movie. Not even the strange dialogue about doors and secret tunnels between Mike Banning the Presidential Guard and Connor the President’s son, who off course, that time in the beginning stays with the presidential guard’s car, with Mike. While Diaz, the other Presidential Guard, drove the President and First Lady, humbly smiles over simple scene when they exchanged christmas gift in the car. Mike will stay alive, so does Connor, we know that now. Something must happens to invest motive and reason, for the Hero to stay on the next 90 minutes, looking heroic. So when the car went down but we got the President safe, we knew that.

The attacks gone organically, we never really know what’s going on outside, but in the inside, all the west and east mixed beautifully weird. We don’t see too many shots inside, but for just a couple minutes, but more of the series of graphic brutality, that I never expected from such film studio, Hollywood, I may able to add. Well, except when Tarantino’s in the house. The choreography of killing widened from just pull the trigger as any other american movies, into using knife-very well might I add-, and some -I think- more than 20 neck snaps.

What I like most is the fight choreography between Banning and Forbes. I don’t remember why, but I like it a lot. Please forgive me. I will update when I remember why 🙂

The scene with the Secretary is also good, I think. Words put nicely, good enough for action junkies like me, he he. I remember one of her words to the President, “We may meet our God today, but I would never let my headstone written: died without a fight”. She told him that, after being kicked, dragged here and there by Kang, the baby-face terrorist.

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The surprise scene, for me. She survived! ^_^

And the most cute scene, which I think only Gerard Butler can do it, is when he told Connor about his duty.

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So put this badge on you here, and I’m counting on you, okay?…

So someday I, or now you can tell one more story for your children before they go to bed, that one day, a president got locked up in the white house, the safest building in the whole world. He locked up with the enemy, who used him, once again, as a bait for a simple answer about moral responsibility of a country.

Because people like the police and the army responded very late and the chain of highly skill terrorist now getting even better and more, and more unbeatable (so it seems), a man who brave enough to face the challenge shall come in handy. In this case, someone who knows very well how to face it, how to get through it, someone once believe, that he failed his own responsibility.

But everybody said, that the world is actually consists of 3 things: to try, to fix, and to try again, one more time.

A chance appears, one man raised to it, white house may not be white anymore at the time, but the nation will still rise.

Well, I think it’s a pretty good story to tell, with or without Gerard Butler in it. Just makes sure there will still be Morgan Freeman 😉

Categories: film | Tags: , , , , , , | Leave a comment

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