Hair Brush and Grapes

and I am sure, I died a little inside.

Damn you Darren Aronofsky.

Do you have something that only yours? 

I don't mean in sense of material things, because everyone has that. 

But a thing, a thing that yours. do you know what I mean?

Of course not, you have to be a mind reader to understand what I mean at this point. 

Let's make it clearer. 

Take example me. My things are: Golden Girls, Reno 911, of Montreal, Calvin and Hobbes, and skipping and dancing while walking.

Those things are mine, and mine alone. 

None of my friends watch Golden Girls or Reno 911 as religiously as i do. None of them understand the magical creature that is Kevin Barnes. None of them has read all Calvin and Hobbes comic strip. And none of them like to skip or suddenly dancing while they're walking. None.

That's why those are my things. Those are so Maroon Ranger. 

Maybe it's because at heart, I am a true hipster. 

I thrive to have something that is just mine. 

That's why I hate it when I introduce my friends to something, then they act like they love it more than I do. 

I really do hate it. 

I know, what a petty petty woman I am.

I don't mind if you love the same thing as me just as long as you didn't know it from me. I am foine with that.

But it bothers me when you suddenly love this X band soooo hard and start telling everyone of how cool X band is, and act so cool in front of your friends about it. 

And I hate hate hate saying "Well, the beyotch knows it from me." 

Because admit it, that line is such a dirt bag line.

So I stuck watching you parading your coolness.

I am lame sometimes. Seriously.

Oh Odin, I need to see Thor immediately. and War Horse. 

I think I need to cross Britain from my "must visit" list. I'm afraid I would just sleep with any guy who approaches me with an English accent.  or just anyone with a classic English or Scottish or Irish features. 

Maybe the reason why I was born in Indonesia and not somewhere in Britain is so that I won't be a colossal slut like Rose Nylund in high school. 

Hey there, 

How are you? Good I hope. I am also good, as always. Well, I was sick a few days ago. I had a cold and cough, but I am a-okay now. 

The reason I'm writing this to you is to let you know that I want you to stop.

After all these years, all the birthdays I had without you, all the phases, the stages, the different cities I lived in, after all those, I can not believe that you still has some sort of a hold of me. I can not believe I still think of you every time I play with soap bubble. I can not believe your shadows are still haunting me every time I went to a some-what decent park. 

I don't want it to. You are supposed to mean nothing to me at this point. Heck, you're not even supposed to exist. You are supposed to be deleted and emptied from the recycle bin of my thoughts.

*Ziiii, mellow kali kakaaaaaaa.......

So I just check the draft section in my blog, and I found this.

Wowza, I am such a drama queen.
But heck, I spent time writing that shit down, so I might as well just published it. 

And I said "I don't know her that well to determined her coolness. why?"

And she answered, that little weird girl said "She's friends with a guy I know, who is cool. I mean, how could she knew him? She has a lot of friends you know, she's cool. But I don't like her. And I don't like that she's cool" 

And I just rolled my eyes. 

I've been wondering for sometimes about this cool thing. About this hipster-turn-lamester thing. About being scenester, being "it" boy or girl. About being the one everyone so keen to be friends with. 


What is it that makes you cool? Your uniqueness? Your oh-my-god-so-amazing-and-edgy taste in music, fashion, movie, and other art thing? Your money? Your parents money? Your hobby? Your hundreds of photos on facebook/instagram/flickr? Your band? Your friends who are in bands? Your gorgeous hair? Your crazily pretty shoes? Your fully stamped passport? What? The combination of it all? 


It took me a while to realized that, coolness in overrated. It took me a 10.000 words final project on the most hipster of all magazine, Vice, to realized that hipsterdom is a fad.


It took me a while to realized, heck, I don't give a flying fuck about what bands you listen to, or how fucking good your English is. Fuck that. 


What matter most is, seriously, kindness. 
It does sound cheesy as shit, I know. 


For me, if you are nice, kind, and basically have a good heart and actually do something for others, you are cool. You are awesome, and you are the shit!
For me, if you have a level head, a good point of view of the world, and if you don't judge other by their poor choices, you rule.


And if you bother to do the little things, the little gestures to show people around you how they are appreciated, I think you are mega awesome. 


So yeah, I love you, you nice, sweet, kind people of the world. 


Oh, and you have to be able to laugh at yourself. Because otherwise you'd have a miserable life.


And because I know not all people are nice, here is a picture of a cake. 
Cake makes everything better. Specially chocolate cake. 
Go, go eat one.