Husband and I are recently watching NatGeo series titled Genius which featured the world legend in science, Albert Einstein. Well, even though I’m not really a fan of Albert Einstein that much (knowing the history of his experiment wouldn’t be this successful without his scientist wife, Mileva Maric whom he cheated from), I have to admit that his story opens my eyes from the fact that even a legendary genius had to experience a hardship in pursuing his dream.
Do you know what is personal space?
Merriam-Webster has the definition of it as: the distance from another person at which one feels comfortable when talking to or being next to that other person.
Indonesia is one of the biggest population in the world that most of them hold the principle of communality. The principle of communality makes Indonesians accustomed to care on each other, which is good but sometimes it’s just too much till it’s crossed the line. As simple as asking: “how old are you?”, “when will you get married?”, or “when will you have babies?” and so on, seem normal for Indonesians. What’s bugging me is, how they deny that questions as a mere sign of concern? Every time they just wanna do the courtesy they ask such questions to start the conversation, which for me is pretty disturbing.
I’m a house, if you’re asking me what I am.
I miss my masters, I miss them around. They used to stay here during weekend reading books and playing with Milo, the male Bengal cat. They kept me clean and sweet scented with lemon room fragrance.
How can I forget you?
We spent the whole night in Corfu
We had one glass of wine or two
You were a stranger to my mind,
but we acted like we knew
We had nothing to prove
This conversation went from none to the bed
It was on the blank white sheet above my head
Confused me for a second whether it’s a pleasure or a threat
Then we had another gin to drink
my heart sore like it was about to burst
I couldn’t clearly think
But I had you to trust
morning came and you were gone
nothing but a memory of the utopian town
I finished it with the last cup of tea and scone
But you would never come back
at any second chance that I would never had
Last night there was no you
there was just me
sitting next to the ashes of you
tried so hard to make a conversation like it used to be.