As I am sitting here staring at this monitor AND being taken to a haunting world of Chet Baker's rhythm, one can only wonder how badly damaged he was. Credits to those life-threatening consumption he had indulged himself into, he became a living witness of the extent how drugs can ruin your being. Such a maestro, such a master, such an inseparable part of jazz himself, fortunately his creation and works remains a collection of masterpieces.
Listening to him it's like giving yourself an ear to hear your deepest soul.

Cukup jelas,
aku bosan jadi pelacur.

Karena melacur bukan berarti enak-enak makan kue cucur,
yang ada malah lelah letih keringat mengucur.

Capek lho jadi pelacur!
Strike a pose, stand up straight, shake your butt, chin up, all polished from head to toe,
Untuk hal yang orang bilang tabu.

But we do it!
Soalnya kita perlu duit.
And that's the solely reason we can live with.

Ah, melacur ...
Berarti aku harus terus menerus berguling dalam alam kelabu
In a fine line between both extremes
of knowing and not knowing
Apa yang gue lacurin ini.

Melacur, berarti aku harus mencari tahu
Apakah ini yang aku gumuli untuk mencari kesenangan semu
Atau apakah ini yang aku tempuh dalam hidup
Agar nasib bisa diadu
Dan cinta bisa berlabuh

Gila!
Seumur hidup gue bakal jadi pelacur dong!
Mengemis mengais meringis menangis menahan perih

Tapi nyaman juga,
Sampai saat ini aku masih merasa secure jadi pelacur.

"lihat dirimu/semakin jauh mengayuh/lewati segala tujuan hidup yang mungkin kau tempuh"

Like that docu-style of interview in The Motorcycle Diaries that I dismiss, me and Zeff can only say: "I find it disrupting the enjoyment of watching the film, I don't like it, but then, I can't think of any other ways to do it, it's necessary to be there."

In the end, it's the emotional experience that you remember most, not the facts and the details.

As my indulgence towards gogglebox has drastically been decreasing ever since I stepped my feet on to a new realm of era half a decade ago, a few shows actually manage to pull off their consistency in making themselves compelling to watch, creating a sense of necessity not to miss them. One of those is Inside the Actors Studio, hosted by James Lipton, and a few minutes ago Arts Central broadcasted the episode with Juliette Binoche sitting on the red chair.
Skip the duh!-everybody-knows-it fact that she has proven herself to be a consummate artist all these years with towering body of works no other actors would ever attempt to imitate, something took me aback when she recalled the experience of making Bleu from Kryzstof Kieslowski's Three Colors Trilogy and Anthony Minghella's The English Patient.

She cried.

She blurted her words out and tears just started flowing from her bright wide eyes.

Now, I wonder if you've seen both films, but if you have, I'd rest my case if you told me that you were not taken to a state of emotional upheaval when you watch Bleu and transported to a rollercoaster ride of heartwrenching feeling in The English Patient. Was she wonderful in both films? Can't argue on this. Was she good? I can only challenge you to come up with better queries. Was she emotionally involved in her characters? Yes, she was, or I'd say, she still is.

It's the kind of life that we always long for, to engage ourselves fully in whatever we are doing and we are walking through. When we give our whole mind and soul completely, wouldn't a single exhale brings an air of relief to purify the inner self? Yet, fear rules. Fear of losing what's not meant to be kept. Fear of rejecting what's not supposed to be accepted. Constant fear of insecurities that prevents this God-made creature to walk beyond the grey area. And we keep the fear, masking it by turning that into obsession over tangible-aziation of everything, both sides.

Yet, we turn away from the emotional calling.

Whatever I'm rumbling about tonight, let's have our mind open and always ready to fill it in with wonders of the life. Don't make an attempt to prevent them, after all, I'd give my outer existence to filter 'em for me.

When he was about to hang up the phone, he said, "Selamat merenung ya pak!".


Merenung? I just awoke from my delayed deep sleep due to the continuous buzz of incoming text messages on my mobile.


But what came afterwards was much more than the process of 'merenung' or what I'd like to describe it as 'taking as much time as you need to sit back, think of what you've been doing'. It was a matter of taking decisions, a time when you are no longer able to walk in the grey area.


Yes. Can you? Why?! OK, but ... Wait! What if ...?


If love flows like a river, will you let yourself drowned?
If tip-toeing through the fine line of in-between helps you avoiding constant constipation of a structured relationship, will you do it for the rest of your life and keep covering yourself from the glaring heat of reality?
If distance is shortened, will it make things easier to handle and guarantee you that things will work well like the way both of you want it to be?
If one's wish fails to fulfill the desire of other party, which one to push, and how you decide which?


Sejuta pertanyaan untuk cinta yang sebenernya ga pernah terjawabkan dalam suatu bentuk kepastian karena cinta ... Bukankah ia akan selalu berevolusi, berkembangbiak, berakar, berpindah, berlabuh, berteduh, beranjak, bertapa, bermain, beraduan, berapa banyak lagi yang harus terungkap?


"yang kumau/ada dirimu/tapi tak begini keadaannya/yang kumau selalu denganmu/jika Tuhan mau begini/robahlah semua jadi yang kumau/karena kuingin semua berjalan/seperti yang kumau"- KD 'Yang Kumau'