Saturday, November 27, 2010


Black smoke was dancing outside my window.
Red fire popped out once in a time.
The sound of explosion made off beat rhythm. 
I sighed and looked at the watch on my cracked wall. 

It's still 3 PM. 

I cleaned up the dust on my window and fogged up my breath on it.  Slowly, I wrote a "B" letter on it.
The clear B letter soon disappeared. My eyes got focus again with the black smoke in the background of the window. "Bill..." I whispered to the air. Nobody would listen to my fearful and hopeless whisper, but I'm sure Bill would somehow listen out there.

Time used to run very fast back then. Especially I was a newspaper journalist, you wouldn't feel years are changing, clocks are ticking or calendars are flipping back each month. You wouldn't care about time. But now, every minute is like every year. The year 2017, I said to myself as I looked at the calendar. 

It's still 3.33 PM now.

I took my mask from the hanger, wore my bulletproof jacket and do not forget my dirty leather boots. We can get fine if not wearing those stuff outside house these days. So far I have paid a big amount of money because kept not doing that, but hey... sometimes it's too hot and manic where all you going to do outside your house is only to collect the sun dried clothes from the roof for three minutes. 

No more roads, it's all gone because of the bombs. No more cars and awful traffic like we used to face everyday back then, just some ugly huge tankers parked. 
I crawled on the ground to go to my backyard. That's the rule, you should crawl outside your house. Or once again you will get fine from the security troupe. 

I felt proud of my backyard because it could still grow some tea leaves. Not much and definitely not the best one, but at least I could still make a cup of tea from it. Bill also love my home made tea drink. He called it "Nuclear Tea", because almost in every space of deep underground is where the nuclear bunkers are buried by the government. So we had this internal joke that the tea leaves actually contained some nuclear energy.

It took twenty-two crawls to finally arrive at my backyard. I quickly pulled off 6 tea leaves and crawled back to my house. Lucky me this time I only passed 1 dead rotting cat on the ground. Yesterday I passed 5 dying birds, 2 dead dogs, and 1 human leg. What can I say if whole world is in war? 

Just a few crawl before I arrived at my front door, I heard some hard human steps. It's the soldier's step. I turned around my head to check who's that. Bill?

No it's not my Bill. I got into my house quickly. I wouldn't waste my time to deal with another man in this situation, plus I wouldn't waste my tea leaves for any soldiers but Bill. 

I sighed as I got into my house safely. Bill will arrive anytime soon and I should start making the Nuclear Tea so he could enjoy it as soon as he got here.  

Time went by, really slow.

It's 5 PM.

Two cups of Nuclear Tea are ready on the wood table. A small circle table for my favorite spot with Bill, without chairs, so we always sit on the floor. 

Bill should arrive soon, because we can only have proper light during that hour. Later than that we will run out of lights from the sun. Since electricity got shut off for safety reason, we depend a lot on sun shine. After sunset, it's time for us to lay on the bed, stare at the dark ceiling, and fall asleep. I got no more candles left. 

5.15 PM.

I knocked my hands on the floor three times. 

"Bill! Is that you?" I shouted happily when I heard the knocks. 

I opened the door and looked at nobody in front of me. I smiled. Slowly I imagine a smiling guy with dirty face in his soldier uniform, and a white daisy on his right hand. Bill brought me a flower. "Bill..." I whispered to the air.

Bill kissed my lips softly. I tasted some gas and dust, but still it taste beautiful.  I smiled wider. I took his hand and we walked toward our small table. "I have made the Nuclear Tea... You must be thirsty."

I saw Bill nodded and took his cup of tea. We cheered our Nuclear Tea and drank it together at the same time. We smiled at each other. 

"How is war out there?" I asked him slowly.
"It's beautiful. So you don't have to worry about me. I'm safe out there."
I knew he only said that to make me feel better, and he lied, and I could only smiled at him, and he knew that I fake my smile. 

"How is your sleep last night?" I asked myself as a Bill.
"It's good. I could see three or four stars on the sky before I slept, " I answered Bill.
He nodded and finished his Nuclear Tea until none water left. "I must go back to the field."
I sighed. "Be careful, Bill." 
We stood up and walked toward the front door. We kissed each other before he finally walked and disappeared into the mist of black smoke and fire.

I took a deep breath, suck some thousand of toxic components from the war zone, and shut the door slowly. My imaginary partner Bill has left me, it's time for sleep. 

I know it's silly since government made this rule that we couldn't have real partner in the middle of war because it will make our own lives disaster and frustrated. 
I know it's silly to have the rule that we have to make our own imaginary partner and make sure that our partner is always safe and happy out there.
No real partner or you will get fine.
But it's all for our own good. Yes, for our own sake.
What can you expect from reality these days?
Losing people you love in battle of war might be worse than living alone.

I laid my back on my bed, thinking about years years ago before it all happened.
I missed traffic, I missed the real touch with my real partner,  I missed a box of instant tea from the supermarket. 

I looked at the window, tonight the sky has only two stars. No clouds seen, only black smoke.

7 PM. Year 2017.

I closed my eyes. It's time to sleep.

Monday, October 18, 2010


Hi Human!
I'm a star named Spocia. Yes, I'm one of the stars in the galaxy.
I'm bright, because you can see me in the dark.
Our jobs are a lot, and difficult. We are responsible to bring beauty in the night.
No worries, it's okay if you sleep during the night and too sleepy to watch us. No hard feelings, because real stars don't demand for publicity that much.
I'm sorry if we cannot be really seen sometimes, but it's not our fault. It's pollution's fault.
And the toughest job we have is when a human has an important wish.
The Star God always says we have to become a falling star so you human can make a wish. That's the time when we have to suicide and fall as a proud star. I know it sounds not right, but of course we don't mind as long as you can make your wish.
Oh, I'm sorry. I gotta go. A girl just wanted to make a wish on Earth. She wished God could add more polar bears, panda, smiles, shake hands, and butterfly in the stomach to Earth.

It's nice talking to you! Don't forget me, Spocia, once a star in the galaxy and hopefully you consider me as your friend. And I'm sure my other star friends will help you when you want to wish upon a falling star. Well, I really gotta go now. The girl is waiting. And please tell how do I look when I die down there, do I still look cute and bright? Just kidding. Bye bye!!!

Thursday, September 30, 2010






Hi, I'm a snake. Sorry that I don't have a name. I am doing a survey for my snakology thesis. 
Human, What you guys do when you are in love? 
Is it easier to feel love? Don't tell me it's easier to lose it as well? 
You have good size and quality of brain and heart. We don't. We are just curious, what does it feel to deal love with those cool stuff?
You have hands and legs. We wonder what lot lot lot of things you can do with those amazing stuff around your body?
You have mouth and verbal language. We are wondering what lot lot lot of things you can say to your lover?
Because we are poor snake only can stick out our tongues while you can do french kiss, and we don't have hands and legs so we could only shape our body a love sign to show what we feel. Not much we can do about love.

We want to be human badly. Cause love life looks easier. No? 


Tuesday, September 21, 2010


       Hello, HANDWRITING.
         I miss you.

I've been pretty busy with my laptop and mobile phone. 
As you already notice, me and almost everybody create words with those keypads now.

             Don't be jealous. 
Without you, we don't do greeting cards anymore lately.
Including for my birthday :(
 I didn't get any birthday cards. 
Only SMS...and some virtual networks. 
Wait, I got one, but only with a signature on the bottom :p
Oh how I miss that loooong hard-to-read handwriting message plus hand drawing bonus as you flip the card.

I know. I'm sad too :(
And you just don't know how much I have pushed 'delete' button for my misspelled words here. LOL.
Oh wait, there is also auto spelling application. 
So my brain can have longer nap. 
But hey, it's good to meet you for a while though. 
I am smiling :) 


I won't forget you.
I still keep all the memories together. 
The best thing about you, that you are more lovely to be kept in my life box forever. Unless if I have thrown you into a garbage can :p Just kidding.
Hey, Handwriting. I gotta go.
I got lot of messages to reply, to send, and... 
Oh, you know.
Have a good day, Handwriting!

I hope to see you again soon.
Promise, please don't forget me and our memories together.

* Actually I wasn't really sure whether to publish this story or not,  because I don't want you guys think I'm THAT autistic. But well...I don't care at last.

Thursday, August 12, 2010


I love how serious people being busy inside a room for scientific experiments or research. Wearing their hygienic white suit outside their shirt or maybe sporty polos.
I like to think some random guessing of how they work inside their lab room, such as, maybe, they don't talk much to each other, move their hands really slowly or they spill the liquid, listen to nothing because they have to keep their Ipod inside the lockers, don't remember to answer instant messages from their loved ones because ring tones are way too distracting, and maybe they hide some peanuts inside their suit pocket for light meals during the research. Whatever happens inside the laboratory room.
Maybe my guess are all wrong, because I have never been there. I'm not a scientist. Maybe they play Depeche Mode with highest volume and do eighties dance while do the experiments, or anything else. I don't really know. I should check those scientists.
But now, why not I try to be one in my own way? Try to make my own 'laboratory room' which could be anywhere from my room, kitchen, or maybe inside my car, try to make my own research and random experiments.... but this time not to change reality or something serious like that. Of course not, my biology teacher wouldn't be happy if she finds out I'm doing this. But let's say, it's just for fulfilling my curiosity about random stuff around my life and answer it with silly experiments.

Coming soon! Because I'm still busy. Yes, a scientist has to be busy!

Just let's see, let's see, and I wouldn't say DONT TRY THIS AT HOME kind of stuff to you, because I have a feeling none of you would be interested to try what I will do anyway. Cause trust me, my research will be far far far away from important.

Friday, August 06, 2010

TRIO by Elisabeth Hedytia

My best friend Tia wrote this for my blog. It is a non-fiction short story about a band called Polypony. 
Do you know Polypony? 
Wait, does Polypony know you? 

And as you requested, I contributed a drawing for your story as well. 
Sending you a kizz on the agnezzz

write short now.
I mean, short stories.
Stories about my feelings,my heart, and nonsense.

I used to write lyrics,
But what lyrics now?
I don't have any band.
Well,there was one band,my rest-in-peace band.
It's called polypony.
It was fun.
Mad fun.

It's just me,karin and sulung, my then boyfriend.
My x.
But we're cool now.
We're bestfriend.
No, it's not cliche.
We've been through a lot.
A lot of shit together.
So we're in this path, that we're ok.
So ok we can be brother and sister.
So ok it was tacky in the first place,but we don't care. 
We're ok now.

where was I?
Oh polypony,
yeah, it was mad fun, did I already tell you that?
It was a silly band, with silly lyrics, silly music and killer costumes.
Me and karin, we're kinda obsessed with our stage performance.
We always thought that we're reincarnations of ziggy stardust,mixed with dolly parton. Super crazy.

it was mad fun, polypony sounded like a crazy ex girlfriend,who ran to your window and crashed her body to it.
That's our sound.
It's pretty funny, because none of us, either me or karin, have that kind of taste in music.
Me, I always stuck with bjork, red house painters, my bloody valentine and camera obscura,oh,a lil le tigre won't hurt.
And karin, that weird bitch, my best bitch, she only listen to my bloody valentine and sigur ros.
straight up.
Like vodka on the rock.
Dry, very dry

And our output, god, we're so strange.
Our output, became so loud, angry, stupid, silly, and too disco. 
Well, disco is always nice. But a shoegaze disco? 
That was mad rite?

Let me tell you why we got there in the first place.
It was karin's ex boyfriend fault.
He was a post punk singer in an electro clash band, and he was a DJ too.
So much for a profession.
He came with all the impossible plan, the way polypony should sound,look and act like.
And we kinda fell in love with the idea.
Talking about shameless.
anyway, that's polypony

The rest is history,We're playing local indie gigs, then in mid-sized clubs, then in a big club, art show, birthday parties, til we sick. 
Well, there were only 6 gigs. 
But we got sick.So sick of it.and then we threw up.

The hype was so extravagant.
I was not sure why, even karin, well she's the one who got the ignorant feeling,but in a good way. She never cared what's going on. I'd wished I can be her, for certain reason for several occasions.

Like when in a wedding or something, all I wanna do is hit the buffet and then leave.
Because its typical indonesian wedding, we have to shake the couple who stand in the stage, dress like a clown, and wait to be greeted.
I mean, I feel sorry for them, I pity them, and I respect them by not coming to see them. I just wanna enjoy the party, eat the food, I bet that's all they (the couple) want us to do. To enjoy the party, to ignore them, they're married anyway, they need a party. Life sucks after marriage.

And yeah,polypony only lasted for 2 years or at least 2.5 years.
with 6 gigs.sounds like a loser, but I guess we won, we won in so many ways. 
We're the first band, or duo,or whatever that came with that stupid idea of 2 girlfriends,running around on the stage and yelling and dress like marie antoinette. It was 2006. No one ever did that.Not in the 2006. I was 22. So young. gosh. where was my head.

Now, 4 years after that, we change, we change a lot. 
I'm working, hell yeah I work.
even karin, she's big now. She's a fashion editor for this big vogue-ish magazine.
And Sulung, only god knows what's he's into. 
He was dead as a designer, and then he's born again as a different designer, and so on and so on. He's pretty stubborn. That's why we clicked.

Its midyear 2010 now,4 years apart from our golden moment, our 15 seconds of fame, or more like 5 seconds.
But I miss that feeling.
The feelings when you're on stage.
And everybody's looking at you, laughing at you, pay attention to you. 
Only me and the microphone, and karin.and sulung on the decks.
I miss polypony. 

But never,ever,in the back of our mind, we're doing the reunion.
Reunion is only for losers.
It's only for people who can't move on.
God forbid the word "reunion". even I puke when I saw my bloody valentine reunion.
they were zombies, they look so old, and still playing their hits 20 years ago.
what a losers
But I love them.
I love losers.
Well, its just me. And polypony.-R.I.P. polypony
Sent from my BlackBerry®  - yes this girl sent her writing via blackberry. we're too busy to meet each other. 

Friday, July 02, 2010


Once upon a time in jungle hour, live one happy tiger family called the Silverbones. They are Mr. Silverbones, Mrs. Silverbones, their eldest daughter Lara Lee, their mid son Hundred, and their last son Saolo.

Mr. Silverbones is one of the most respected tigers in the tigerhood. He's not just a smart tag (it's just a slank word for tigers. We call ourselves TAG. Yeah just like you people call yourself PEEPS), but Mr. Silverbones could also kill 10 buffalos in 1 hour.  Wait, not just that, but he's also a loyal tag. He never cheats on his wife.

Then one morning at breakfast time, Mrs. Silverbones is preparing some fresh buffalo meat on the grass for her family while Mr. Silverbones is sitting not very far checking out his territory area with his usual proud face, narrowing eyes with a one-side smile. At the same time Lara Lee is trying to catch a butterfly, Hundred is sleeping as the laziest and most ignorant family member, and Saolo is just like the way he used to do every time. Think, think, and think. If he's a human, he might be a philosopher.  Too bad tigers don't really care about philosophy. Still, he's such a psychedelic tag who always wanders around his mind all the time. He looks like dating some drugs or something. But of course he's not.  He's just a tag who loves to think and shows some indication that someday he could create a tiger revolution or something.

"Sweetheart! Tag kids! Buffalos are ready. Let's have some breakfast then you guys can go hunting," Mrs. Silverbones roared happily.

Mr. Silverbones, Lara Lee and Hundred ran eagerly toward the buffalo in a splash of seconds, while Saolo just stayed on his space. His face looked strange.

"Saolo! Come on, eat your buffalo before we finish it all up," Mrs. Silverbones roared once again.

Saolo walked slowly to the breakfast area with head facing down. "I need to roar you something," he roared slowly in a low volume.

Mr. Silverbones stopped chewing the buffalo meat and stared at his son. "What again this time, Saolo? Don't tell me you're going to sneak up on that farmer house again only to watch TV by the window. If you ever did that again, I wouldn't let you eat buffalo for 2 days."

Saolo took a deep breath. "I want to be a vegetarian, Dad."

Mr. Silverbones didn't move, Mrs. Silverbones just dropped 1 kilo of buffalo meat from her mouth, Lara Lee choked, and Hundred looked like he didn't hear anything cause he's still eating buffalo peacefully.

Mr. Silverbones almost roared to his highest pitch but Mrs. Silverbones quickly stopped him. "Be calm, Sweetheart. Don't let other tigers hear this or we're getting into trouble," she roared softly, but in a deeply madly worried face. Then she looked at Saolo. "What are you thinking, Saolo? A vegetarian? It's just the same as you want to do long-term suicide. Don't be a fool. We are tigers, we are carnivores. We are here to eat meat."

Saolo didn't change his mind that easy. "I watched a TV channel at that farmer house and--"

Mr. Silverbones roared angrily. "SEE I TOLD YOU NOT TO COME TO THAT FARMER HOUSE OR--"

Mrs. Silverbones stopped him again. "Sweetheart, please. Let me do this." Then she roared as soft as she could to Saolo. "Ok, tell us what you're thinking, Saolo. We are listening."

"Hey, whack hap pen nig?" Hundred suddenly roared confusedly with his mouth full of meat but no one bothered him.

Saolo cleared his throat to roar everything in his mind. "Few days ago I watched a TV channel, I think it's called Animal Magnet or Planet or something I'm not too sure. And I saw some tigers like us chasing a buffalo, grab that poor animal like we are devils and tear them apart as that buffalo is a piece of paper. And I feel sick, I feel like we're bad to kill them like that. Especially I saw that buffalo's family couldn't do anything. I mean, can you imagine if I'm in a middle of situation where my life is threatened but you guys are running away just like that because you know you are weaker and couldn't do anything? That's worse, half of your eyes are staring at your life enemy, and the other half are looking that somebody on your side is leaving you behind."

"Go on, let it all out, Saolo." Mrs. Silverbones roared softly. "I don't think your argument is strong and smart enough, so show us more what you think."

Saolo cleared his throat again. "I don't say all the tigers have to be vegetarian, but it's just my choice. I don't want to kill other animals. I know about that food chain thing, Mom, like you've taught me since I was a baby, but in this period I think I will find my way to survive just with vegetables and fruits."

"You are not a monkey, you are a tiger for old sake!" Lara Lee roared angrily.

"Silent, Lara Lee. Nobody roar you to roar something here," Mrs. Silverbones looked at her daughter tiredly, then turned her head back to Saolo, that poor son who's still crafting his life character with his wild thoughts. "So Saolo, what made you think you could save those animals life if you're a vegetarian?"

Saolo shook his head. "I didn't say I wanted to save their lives, I just don't want to kill them."

Mr. Silverbones stared at his son hopelessly. "Saolo, I just want to tell you few things. First, I wouldn't leave you behind if you're in trouble. Second, we are endangered creature and God must hope we eat those productive animals as much as we could as long as we still survive. Third, we kill those animals for our stomach, but human might kill us only for their house decoration. Life is never fair."

As a teenager tag, Saolo didn't want to change his mind just like that even though he knew his father told him the right thing. Because we all know, we don't want to change our mind not because we are truly right, but because we mostly prefer not to let other people who tell you something to feel right.

So Saolo is still in his strange decision. A vegetarian tiger.

He started to chew on grass, which taste like nails. Apples, bananas, even dried leaves. He felt terrible in taste wise, but he felt good in mind wise. He felt good for not killing other animals. He even started to act like he got limp legs, so he looked weak and didn't freak out other animals. Actually he started to feel weak in real, because he only ate those vegetables and fruits, but this fact even made him happier.

At the same time, there is this one teenage buffalo named Brody. He's just like Saolo, but buffalo version. He's a thinker. And yes, he started to think that life is not that fair. Why do buffalos only eat grass while tigers can eat fresh meat? A few days ago Brody just got a horn-slap by his father because Brody just made a strange decision. "I'm tired of being a lame herbivore vegetarian animal, Dad. I want to be a carnivore."

Then Brody walked along on the grassland still with his strange life decision. A carnivore buffalo.

Suddenly he saw this tiger walking alone on the other side of grassland. He wouldn't touch a tiger of course for his carnivore mission, but wait... that tiger looks weak enough! He walked like he only got two legs. Poor tiger, he could be my first victim, Brody thought to himself. I would make Dad proud if I could kill that poor tiger and eat him. I could make a scratch in buffalo world history.

So Brody started to snort, tap his right feet on the grass, and lowered his horn right at that tiger's direction. He's so ready to eat that tiger alive, not because he likes the taste of tiger's meat. Meat taste like shit. But this time only because Brody couldn't accept that life is never fair.

ps: RIP Saolo Silverbones

Saturday, June 12, 2010


Fishshit. Fishtard. Fishhole. I give up being a fish. A fish as a creature living in the water is a fishhole.

I'm a female fish living inside a jar with another fish. He's a male fish. I never have a chance to know his name, since I couldn't listen carefully what my owner called him, or yeah even my own name! When you're inside water, everything sounds bubbly.

I always want to say "Hi how are you" or "you look great today" to that male fish, but whenever I open my mouth only bubbles coming out. I can't even smile because fish always make that same "O" shape lips, even if you're sad, angry, or happy. The same fishtard "O" shape!

I can't even make eye communication, because fish eyes always turn out big and round and round like that. That's why you got Fish Eye lens. I wish I could lower my eyelids a bit just to be romantic or maybe sexier than this lifetime open-wide eyeballs.

And don't mention about body language communication, because I don't even have a hand to say "I Love You" or "Hello" or "Stop" or "Talk to the hand" thing like you can do as human.

Even worse, I couldn't show him that I'm sad and in a big need of cuddle. Because my tears is transparent inside water.

So as a human, please say "I love you" to your love one or "Hi" as many as you can while you can, smile as big as you feel, hug your friends as many as you desire, and burst into tears as many as you want cause it will make your cheeks wet beautifully. Just as many as you want because you're not a fish like me.


My Grandpa just gave me an extra-ordinary birthday gift. It is a human flower.
Imagine an orchid inside a flowerpot like your mom has on her garden or dining table? It looks alike, only the flower part is now a real human head. My human flower is a female, so it has long hair. She's a bit beautiful, I wouldn't say totally beautiful because she looks weird with stalk as her neck. But so far this is the weirdest & coolest thing I've ever seen. My Grandpa didn't want to tell me where he got this kind of stuff, but we're not surprised. He always came up with strange hybrid creatures. Do you know he just gave my Mom some liquid water shaped like a bottle? So it works exactly like a bottle of water, you can hold it and pour the water into a glass, but makes your hands wet once you touch it. Of course, since it's actually water. I have no idea how the liquid could be that strong to stay shaped like a bottle. I guess you all are confused? I knew it, it's my Grandpa's fault.

Anyways, here is me with my fresh human flower. I love flowers, I have 3 pots of beautiful flowers in my room. There is a rose named Rose, a jasmine named Jasmine, and an orchid named Lily. Now I have four of them, I will name my human flower with Jessica. Such a great human name. I put Jessica on my night table, right next to my bed. Sorry for Rose, Jasmine & Lily, because I have to put them separately close to the windows.  A new best friend needs more room to adapt.

"Hello!" suddenly Jessica greeted with eyes staring at me widely.
I was a bit shocked because the human flower can really talk, even wink, just like human "Hello!" I greeted her back nicely.
"Thanks for having me," Jessica bowed her head a bit to me. "It's great. You got nice room. I will be happy here."
I smiled. "Thank you too for being here. Let me give you some water." Then I pour her some water from  the  watering can.
Suddenly she coughed. "Oops! What kind of water is this?"
I stopped pouring, while looking at the watering can and Jessica back and forth. "Hmm. Some water from tap."
Jessica tried to smile. "But I prefer real drink water, I'm sorry to bother you."
I laughed. "Not a problem! My drink will be your drink since now." Then I pour some water from my drinking glass to Jessica. She looked happier now.

Then I realized it's 3 PM. Time to read! I don't know why but when the clock ticks to 3 PM, my brain always alarms my mind to grab some book and read. I took my "The Black Cat" book by Edgar Allan Poe from the rack and started to read it silently. I like to read anything Gothic.

I usually took 3 to 4 hours to read, but it's not even 35 minutes when suddenly Jessica yawned. "I'm so bored. Let's do something?"
It's not easy to say goodbye to Edgar Allan Poe, but I could feel what Jessica felt. "I'm sorry. You want to do something?"
Jessica made a thinking face. "Hmm. Yeah. Can I go to the garden and just enjoy the view?"
It's the first time I got some request from a flower, and got some interruption while reading time, but it sounded fine. So I shut my Edgar Allan Poe and grab Jessica on my hug. I was thinking to bring Rose, Jasmine and Lily too, but when I was about to grab them, Jessica made a frown. "Are you going to take them with us too?"
I nodded. "Why not."
Jessica shrugged. "They seem alright near the windows. And it's my first day here, I just wish I could spend more time only with you."
I didn't mind and walked to the garden. Just the both of us, me and Jessica. It's fun. I sat on the garden chair with Jessica on my lap. Enjoying the view, just like Jessica asked for.

After 20 minutes or so, I asked Jessica whether she wanted to stay there alone for a while because I have promised my best friend Matilda to go out with her and have some dessert together.
"I'm coming with you," Jessica said with a tone that didn't need my approval.
It's not a big problem, because I actually had this thing in mind to show Jessica to Matilda. So Jessica and I went up to room. I needed to change dress first.

I picked some white medium-length empire line dress and slipped it on through my body happily. It's one of my favorite dresses that I have worn since I didn't know what menstruation is.
"Your dress looks old." I heard a tiny voice behind my back. It's Jessica again.
I turned around and looked at Jessica sadly. "Really? I knew someone would notice. Yeah I have worn it  since many years ago."
Jessica sharpened her eyes, as she wanted to look close at the details. "It's getting yellow, the white is fading out. You should change to another dress. You look kind of filthy."
This time I felt a bit hurt, but maybe she's right. It's about time my dress get retired. So I turned out wearing a green tennis polo shirt and denim pants, just to be quick and simple.
Jessica nodded with a smile. "You look nice."

A few minutes later we were already inside a cafe, with my best friend Matilda sitting next to me. She looked so amazed with Jessica. "Very pretty human flower! Let me guess. Is this one of your Grandpa's stuff?"
I nodded, laughing. "Yeah! Isn't it awesome?"
Matilda greeted Jessica. "Hi!"
Jessica greeted back, but this time not too enthusiastic. "Hi. I'm thirsty."
I looked at Jessica for five seconds. She's obviously starting to act annoying, but I ordered some mineral water anyways then poured it to Jessica carefully.
Matilda looked at me with surprised looks. "Mineral water only for a flower? Why don't you just use tap water instead?"
I smiled a bit, trying to make this weird scene look okay. "Well, since it's an extra-ordinary flower, I should treat it in an extra-ordinary way."
Matilda didn't look agreeable even though she gave me a warm smile as her reply. "Okay. Hey wait up, I need to go to bathroom."
"No problem," I said as turned my eyes back at Jessica.
Jessica looked not happy and started to make negative audio again. "I think your friend has a problem."
"Excuse me?" I asked Jessica.
"She doesn't seem pleased to see me here," Jessica mumbled.
I have thought to slap her on the face, but it's almost like chopping a flower to death. Better not.
"Relax, Jessica. She looks okay to me," I tried to calm her.
Jessica looked shocked. "What are you calling me?"
I shrugged. "Well...I'm calling you your name. Jessica." I just realized I haven't told her that her name is Jessica.
Jessica laughed. "What an ordinary name! So silly. Do you mind if I change my name to something more extra-ordinary? Let's say... Farfarhug, Jugabuggee, or Wanklooyum?"
This time I felt angry. "Oh, please don't start. Are you having a problem? Why you always complain, demand, make little things look so complicated, not thankful, paranoid, and want to be treated like you're the only special living thing on earth?"
Jessica was quiet for a while, she looked guilty but started to make a defense. Just like human. "Because I'm mostly a human. A human can do that why can't I?"

A few hours later I arrived home without Jessica. I have decided to give her back to Grandpa before I chopped her to death. "I'm sorry, Grandpa." That's the only thing I could say.
I got into my room and found Rose, Jasmine, and Lily waiting for me by the windows. My silent beauties.

Now I could wear my old white (turning yellow) dress again, shower my flowers with tap water, call them with the names I chose, read books without interruption, and go out with Matilda without handling a trouble. It's not that I hate Jessica, or human being at all, I'm a human and I adore human being. But life is not easy when you have too much human traces.

While I look at Rose, Jasmine, and Lily, I could only smile. Sometimes silence is more than gold, and silence is all I need to realize that life is already beautiful as simple as that.

Tuesday, June 01, 2010


It's okay if you're not ranked number one. Because one day Mr. Number One told me that being ranked Number One is pretty sad.

You have to wait last to hear your name called.
You made runner up's supporters sad.
You made third position's supporters go home early.
You made your legs work harder to step on to the highest stage.
You need to look very good because mostly people will take pictures of you.
You are lonely, because there are no two Number Ones.
And the worst thing is, people think that you are that good to achieve number one. Because I just knew you're being ranked Number One because the Runner Up is not that good that time.

It's okay not to be ranked Number One.


Mrs. Polar Bear (with Croco Birkin bag) vs. Mrs. Croco (with Fendi fur coat)

Mrs. Croco: "Hey Mrs. Polar Bear! How are you!"
Mrs. Polar Bear: "Doing good. How are you? Wow you look different today."
Mrs. Croco: "Well, do I look fancy? Just got this fur coat from Fendi store. Isn't it nice?"
Mrs. Polar Bear: "Yeah. It looks good, but strange it just looks like my family. I smell someone familiar."
Mrs. Croco: "Someone familiar? What do you mean?"
Mrs. Polar Bear: "I smell my uncle, who just got killed by human few months ago."
Mrs. Croco: "Whatever, but hey dude what are you holding there? Nice piece of bag!"
Mrs. Polar Bear: "Thanks, not easy to get it. I got it from Hermes store, we call it Birkin bag. It's made from real reptile skin they said. I've been waiting for years to get it and bring it home. But I prefer to call it Hermes Bear-kin bag."
Mr. Croco: "Strange...I smell someone familiar too. Smells like my niece who got kidnapped by human few years ago."

Mrs. Polar Bear & Mrs. Croco just laughed out loud for the same coincidence. They have no idea the big thing happening there. Well, who cares. We call them just some of fashion victims and they are always happy as long as they look good.

Sunday, May 30, 2010


I'm a little boy, aged around 6. Wait, I'm not sure, but yes I think I'm around 6. Actually I don't really care how old I am, especially I see human not from their ages. Right now I'm in love with a lady, I don't care how old she is, but she already has two daughters and one life partner, called a husband. This lady is not as pretty as my mother, but she has beautiful abstract pictures on her face with interesting shapes like melting candles. My big sister said those are wrinkles and aged skin, well I don't care what they are called but I think those are the most beautiful objects I've ever seen. It's like when I see big trees on the forest. They always stand up no matter what (maybe not when human chop them) some of them maybe do some bow, but their skin are full of abstract pictures like that lady has, as my big sister called them wrinkles, but they look definitely strong. They have survived different seasons every year. Anyways, I don't really care how the trees survived, but I am just in love with that lady. It all started when I went to the supermarket with my mother. We were on milk department, my mother was going to buy some milk for me. There she was, this lady walked toward the same aisle. She was going to buy some milk too. Then my mother and that lady greeted at each other, and I don't know how but they just talked to each other and introduced their names. I forgot that lady's name, but I don't care what people call her. I would just call her 'lady'. My mother asked her what milk she always bought for her children, and she answered, "My two daughters are already married, they could survive by their own now. And my husband is not a big fan of milk. So actually I'm looking milk for myself. I love milk." And that second I just fell in love, cause I love mature people who still drink milk. Then that lady continued. "But of course, I need to drink high-calcium and low-fat milk, since I'm not as young as your beautiful son." Then that lady smiled at me. In that second again, for the first time I saw those beautiful abstract pictures on her face. When she smiled, they somehow grew more. I smiled back at her to make her smile again. And there she was, smiling wider. More abstract pictures showed up. My heart was melting that time. My mother tapped me on the head. "Yes, Corner is a big fan of milk too. He never asked me buy some toys, but he always reminds me if the milk in the fridge is almost finished." I felt good when my mother told the lady that story. I felt like in a very good match for her. Milk couple would be a cool name for us.
Then we all walked to cashier. This time cashier feels like Disneyland's exit gate. I don't want this  spontaneous meeting to be over. I almost told my mother to ask that lady's number, but I think my mother would be shocked if I ever did that. So I just stayed in silence, staring at that lady's feature nonstop. Her body is not thin, but people won't say she's fat. A bit chubby on the tummy, with her breasts didn't make any appearance under her blue silk blouse. I guess her two daughters drank too much breast milk when they were little until that lady lost the shapes. But I don't care about her breasts.
My mother paid first, so we had to walk out first. That lady stood behind us, getting ready to pay. My mother lift up her shopping bags and said goodbye to the lady. I kept standing near the cashier, didn't want to stop viewing her. "Corner, let's go home. We don't have too much time." I slowly  smiled at the lady, who didn't look at me because busy paying attention to her groceries. But I don't care, my last view has to be the best. And what's next? What story could make this story a good ending? I don't care about you readers, I only care about that lady. Hope to meet her again soon.

Friday, May 28, 2010



Tuesday, April 13, 2010

Whatever Santa Claus is Doing Outside Christmas?

Since I got fired two weeks ago from my job as a postman, I made friends to a lot of dead things around me. You name it, from can food, can drinks, whisky (the cheap one), fridge, and a few kind of other dead things. All my human friends are busy and I got tired to be questioned by them whether I was okay or not after this shitty situation. One way to change the topic and pissed them off is by asking them back "Are you gaining some kilos? I see fat growing in your body lately plus some eye bags around your face. Wait.. are those eye bags or air bags?". It works, they completely forgot about my pathetic life and I could see how they look worried while staring at their own body.

Anyway, so I think those dead things are more thoughtful than human. They can remain silent while I enjoy them and they don't give me pitiful looks or "thank God I'm not you" expression in their face.

But if you ask me why I got fired, then I would tell you. People hardly mail to each other now, so the mails we got each day kind of less and less. Obviously as a postman I got extremely bored and unchallenged. I don't like spare time. So what I did that day was I took a lot of stamps from my office (well okay my boss said I STOLE it and I kind of agreed to that term) and I wrote a few random letters and sent it to random single people from the data base, and of course I didn't put my name on it instead of I put a name of another single people on it. You get it right?  Hell yes it's fun. I wrote romantic letter and make them meet each other. Even I wrote this love letter to an old granny and made it come from this freshman guy in some art college. Okay if that one is not that funny I understand, guys.

So one day I got caught and my boss freak out and fired me. And here I am now in front of my 13 inch television with a jar of Skippy on my hands, chewing, not really watching because TV shows never attract me that much. Apparently these dead things start to stress me out, because obviously I can't ask them anything either. Even the people inside the TV didn't tell anything I need. My friend said I should watch Oprah, but I'm not in the mood for dealing with successful-in-public person right now. I mean, those smart ass look on their face with good speech gestures look overrated. I have this feeling they don't look that interesting when they're alone in the make up room, especially when they have to pick up their noses or tried hard to poop out their last food. Their gestures will be the same weird. I need someone more than Oprah, or Joel Osteen, or Elen Degeneres... Well yeah Elen is not bad, but still I'm going to shut my door for those kind of perfectly-arranged people under some massive industry at this moment. Sorry.

Then I got this name, in this month of April, that suddenly landed in my mind. SANTA CLAUS.
Whatever he does outside Christmas period? Probably he's doing the same thing like me now? Wait. I might be old, but I still believe in Santa. Don't laugh. And don't give a statement like "Hell right you don't believe in Oprah but you believe in Santa!" or "I guess your boss just did the right thing". Please guys I don't need any comments from you. Just shut up and take care of your tummies cause they look like growing some fat.  Obviously. And clean up your eyes because shittt are those air bags hanging there???

Okay. So I got this Santa Claus address from our confidential data base, which got other particular names too like Betty Boo, William Hung, Anna Nicole Smith (we don't delete her name even though now she's RIP cause some guys can 'come' only by reading her home address), David Hasselhoff 's car in Knight Rider series, yes that Kitt (excuse me? you want David Hasselhoff's address instead? Sorry we have never thought to put his address into our database) and also the old white-hair friendly smiley face man you always see in Quaker Oats meal can. I don't know his name but we call him "Mr. Old-Meal".

Then I found Santa Claus' address and get ready to visit him. Don't ask how or the possibility of it, I told you to clean up your eyes right? Cause those air bags still hanging there seriously.

A few hours later I'm arrived in an old house, not too big but I don't call it small either. If you think that Claus' house is big because he has a lot of presents or anything, you get it wrong. Cause the presents and anything are kept in this big workshop nearby, being guarded by some funny look guys wearing black outfit. While Claus lives in this simple wooden house with a march of white roses growing in front of his backyard, apple tree standing right next to his house, and a dog house on the porch. It might his Rottweiler dog that he kept to take care of his house. Because some thief thought the presents are inside his house and trying to steal them or something. But Claus said "I don't want them to try that hard to break my door and get inside finding nothing, so my dog David is in charge to make them change their mind."

"Can I help you?" a thin guy with long white hair asked me after a minute this dog David barked fiercely at me in front of the door. Thank God I love dog so I don't find it scary. The thin guy wore striped pajamas, look mess up because I knew he hasn't showered since morning.

"I'm Ben, I'd like to meet Claus." I answered nicely.

"I'm Claus." the thin guy answered. He's fucking thinner than the usual Santa Claus I see in Christmas greeting card.

I kept silent for a while, didn't say anything further until he shrugged and smiled. "I know what you're thinking about. Well, son, it's only April and I only have to gain weight later around November. Actually I'm starting to worry this diabetes syndrome so I might not gain weight as fat as I used too. Everybody has to be health conscious anyway right." He explained to me openly just like that.

"Oh, nice meeting you, Claus," I could only replied that silly thing and shook his hand. "Is it okay if I visit you for a while?"

Claus opened his door wider and told his dog David with a hand sign to sleep because he found me harmless, sort of that I think.

I got inside and honestly his house need a housekeeper. Messy stuff on the floor like tires, books, bread crumbs, and dried pine tree leaves. I wanted to sneeze because of the dust, but I tried my best not to because I don't want to hurt Claus' feeling. So I took a seat on this old sofa that smelled like goat cheese. I love the smells of goat cheese when I'm in a cafe with some bread and wine, but if on a plain sofa inside this messy living room then I don't feel really right.

"What to drink, son?" Claus asked me as he opened his tiny fridge.

"Anything cold would be nice, thanks."

Claus came to me with a can of Coke in his hand. I wish he could give me more particular drink that I couldn't find near home, but that's okay. "Thanks." I said.

With a little smile, Claus sat on the smaller sofa right in front of me. "You just got fired?" then he drank his own Coke.

I nodded. "How come you know?"

Claus laughed. "I can read expression quite fast. So what's up? You want to look for a job here?"

I laughed right away. "No, just want to do some little talk. Cause I hate spare time, so I need to make
myself busy. Just being curious you know, what are you doing when Christmas is not here yet?"

Claus laughed again. "Good question. Okay... first of all, nowadays kids don't wait for me that eagerly anymore on Christmas eve, so I feel pissed off a bit. Plus it's quite confirmed that everybody thinks Santa is not real. Especially the adult like your age, son. They're boooo-ring and hardly to feel joyful. Well anyway, I got more pissed off when Christmas is over cause I have to wait another year to get busy. So...hey, you're not alone, son."

I smiled. I have been waiting for this, it is to meet a person who's being more pissed off than me.

With eyes staring at the ceiling, Claus looked like he sank into his thought alone for a while. Then came back to me a few seconds later. "Can you keep a secret?"

I looked around checking out nobody there and looked deeply into Claus' eyes. "Yes."

Claus choked a bit. "Ehm.. I do random stuff when I'm not on Christmas month. I did this casting to this movie Harry Potter, you know I thought I might be fit to be Albus Dumbledore, but they said I'm doing too much 'Ho Ho Ho'. Well I can't help it, I've been trained to laugh a 'Ho Ho Ho' for all my entire life and how could I not do that???"

I could only nod. "Yeah."

"And this time I almost get killed... I only want to have better marketing for my own name, so I traveled to east and planned to meet bigger population. So, stupidly, I landed on this place called Afghanistan with my red outfit and a few deers. I checked the children out and suddenly a group of men wrapped in white clothes running toward me and pointed some guns. For real! I could only explain who I am and they look suspicious and say something like Americana icon... or iconic Christiana Americana whatever. Then what I did was I gave up and thank god I got a bunch of plastic guns in my carriage that day, which were leftovers from last season Christmas, so I told them I planned to give these presents to their children. And they look happy and let me go and I went away right on that minute. Gee.. Santa Claus is going from town, if only I could change that song lyric."

I could only shut my mouth. Someone is more pissed off than me for sure.

"So son... why don't you just work with me here? I might need a new guy for taking care of my deers. You look like a nice guy. I'm sure you're still feeling pathetic after your boss fired you?" he asked me that dangerous question.

Actually I almost yelled at him "Hey are you gaining some weight? Cause I see fat growing in your tummies. And are those air bags hanging under your eyes?" But I changed my mind because Claus is obviously got no fats on his tummy and he has those real eye bags.. So I don't have a gut to say my curse to him. He's a nice pathetic person anyway who almost lost his popularity in public. A kind of person I'm looking for at this moment.

"Oh yes, Santa... of course. Whatever that job is, I'm in!" I answered happily. Not ever after probably, but it's okay.

Sunday, February 14, 2010





Hi. I'm Trevor, I'm a cupid. Yes, that cupid you know. Yup, the one who works for a thing called looove.

I've been a cupid since like 5 years ago. It's cool being a cupid, but trust me working for love is a very hard work.

What I do is sending a love message to every human being in this world. Sometimes in North, South, East, or West, sometimes in night, morning, or dawn. Wait, love message is not always an "I Love You", but unfortunately it can also be an "I Don't Love You Anymore" or "I Guess We Should Stop Our Relationship" message. So trust me, it's not easy to be a cupid because imagine us send a message and found the person cry out loud afterwards... that's gloomy.  We hate seeing people cry, so we always wish to get a duty for happy message. But that's it, we cannot choose our message and just be prepared for shitty messages.

This morning after lunch hour, me and my other cupid friends, Louisa, Hubb, and Leon, got ready to go to the "Message Room". We are best friends, and we always share our stories together.

We took the queue to the Message Desk where all the Senior Cupids wait and give us the message to send.

"I wish today I got something romantic, yesterday I just got a message to a beautiful wife from a jack-ass husband... telling her that he's seeing another woman who's 10 years younger, " Louisa said angrily while crossing her hands in front of her chest. "Jack ass!"

I tapped her on her wings. "Calm down... we don't have jobs without human fooling around with their love lives. Take the positive side will ya."

Hubb smiled. "That's what I like about you, Trevor. You always take the positive side. Remember the last time you sent message from a student to her geography teacher? We thought it was wild & not good, but all you said was the teacher teaches geography and he knows where every single city stands, but he doesn't know where his love life anymore... so the student could be a great match, it is to teach him where's the thing called love. That's awesome!"

I laughed. "Yes, the geography teacher was clearly never been serviced by his wife. He looked pale around his heart. It's not healthy."

Leon, the quiet one, only smiled. He doesn't speak much, that's why he's one of the favorites. A cupid is preferred quiet, so human can have more of their privacies. But I peeked a bit of his message yesterday, I think he just got a message from a girl to her (now ex) boyfriend, that she wanted to dump him because they got no same interests in music. I think I don't love you anymore because I listen to David Bowie, while you stick to David Foster. Goodbye. 

Yes, human are so funny! I guess human world is like a sitcom sometimes.

After a 5 minute queue I finally got the turn. Sir Dundall, one of the Message Cupids, listed my name and searched for my message on a pile of white envelopes. " it you have to fly to North. It's from a man lives at 3°35′N 98°40′E to a lady at 6°12′S 106°48′E . The message is.... I love you so much, you have to know that. I always think about you. But I end up acting like I don't love you, like I don't want you... I don't know it's just hard to show some love these days... people always say spread the love, people always say world need more love, but all I can say is world is having too much love that it make them don't feel the existence anymore. It's like an air.. it's around us but we don't feel it or appreciate it anymore because it's too much. So all I want to do now is, find some other way than a thing called love, or a thing red colored, to make you believe it that we are someday beyond just a thing called love."

Pretty romantic yet dangerous for us the Cupids, I thought for myself while taking the message. Louisa was pissed off because she got another turn-off message, Hubb got a will you marry me message, which is nice, and Leon as usual just kept it for himself.

Then I drink some Cupid Liquid SO578, it's probably like a gas or fuel or something if it can make you understand. We, the Cupids, have to drink before we fly. It makes us stronger to beat off the storm, rain, or sunny heat.

After one glass of Cupid Liquid SO578, I spread my wings and flew to North. I smelled the fresh air, felt the breeze of humid wind, and the sounds of dancing fog around me. Thank God it's not storming right now, but suddenly I heard some crash. Pretty loud. I knew what it was.. another plane accident!
I flew to the right side and looked where it came from, and there it was. So I forgot to tell you something, Cupid's main job desk is to send a love message, but we are also being told to help the people who are accidentally going to end their lives. We don't help them to stay alive, but only to whisper them some love potions that make them die in love. You know what I mean.

So I flew down and landed on some mountainous ground. People are bleeding, and I saw some other Cupids there. Whispering..and whispering some love potions...  "You are so being loved... You are so being loved as long as you live... You're going to meet a lot of loves in heaven..."

Then of course my message to the North has to be cancelled.

That's why, if you happen to feel empty without love, or confused about love, or feeling lonely because you have no idea who's in love with you, it's probably because the Cupid has to do more important job to people who is not luckier than you are. I'm sorry if the message doesn't get you,  but you just have to believe that, someone out there is actually in love with you... they are wanting you so bad, but you just don't get the message yet. So always smile and don't hide your happiness in a locker, because you deserve to be loved. Way beyond a thing called love.

Tuesday, February 09, 2010


Me: 911.. I am reporting a murder.

911: Yes, can you tell us what and where you are Miss...

Me: Somebody just shoot me at heart

911: I beg you pardon?

Me: Yes... and now I'm bleeding, but the funny thing is my blood shaped like heart.

911: You are telling us that you're bleeding some heart?

Me: Yes.. and the guy who shot me is now flying.

911: Are you trying to fool us?

Me: No, Sir... there's a Cupid in front of me.

911: great. (hung up the phone)

'Me' is just in love, guys.  Leave her alone.





Wednesday, January 27, 2010


"I have a butterfly in my stomach, I feel soooo in love," Jenny told me with her happiest smile ever. "You know that guy named Arthur? He asked me out last nite and finally I could see him from half of meter distance Ah, I can't sleep all nite long."

I thought about something for a while, then looked at her with a shrug. "Good for you, my friend."

Jenny stopped smiling and looked at me with a I-think-you-are-jealous look. "Oh, Kyle...don't be such a python." (She calls everyone annoying a 'python').

I shrugged. "Because it's almost February and every guy just feels insecure without a lover until Val's day, that's why he suddenly asked you out. Warming up you know."

Jenny left me without saying any goodbyes, but I guess I heard her mumble a word python once again.

I only laughed. She's my best friend and what kept us stay best friend is we fight a lot. Best friends love to fight!

Suddenly Pamela came by. "Hi're alone?" her voice as always, flat like a red carpet, and her face never changed. She always looks like questioning something. I guess her surname is Question Mark. She's also one of my best friends, but we don't fight that lot because her face already makes me feel sorry.

I looked around me, there's a little bird eating some seeds on the grass. "Nope, I'm with a little bird. We're hanging out." My words just made her face more into questioning mark expression.

"Kyle, I'm in love?" she said ( or did she ask?)

"Hmm..are you telling me something or are you making a true or false question?" I asked.

Pamela nodded. "I'm telling you something."

I shocked. If Jenny fell in love, that's I will never care because she fell in love every week, but Pamela?

"HOw can???" I almost cried. "Who's the weird guy?" One thing about me I haven't told you, I don't believe in falling in love. Guys are crazy and I don't fall in love with crazy people. I know lot about food, dresses, secret discount sale, or even cars, but love and guys... it stress me out more than Biology final exam!

Pamela started to smile, a flat smile of course. "Do you remember that guy whom you think look like a crying cucumber?"

I thought for a wihle, of course I didn't remember which one. I have put too many curses on guys. The last nickname I made is a guy that looks like a Fishing Boat, but Crying Cucumber I didn't exactly remember "Yes, of course. Who's his name?"

"Greg. He wants to be my boyfriend. Could you believe that?" she asked me. "This is the first I feel a butterfly in my stomach."

Three hours later I was alone in my backyard. I hate this, but I think I have to feel that love and that guy my best friends are crazy about just now. Shit! Should I? I guess yes. Okay, I don't know anything about it, but look like they have something in common. Butterflies in their stomach! So that day I waited patiently for a butterfly flying near me and caught them with a net. I caught one butterfly, then I held its dusty wings. I don't know whether it's right or not, but should I eat the butterfly? I guess yes? And I eat the butterfly until I feel it land on my stomach. Let's see what happens tomorrow... wish me luck, guys...

Thursday, January 21, 2010



(this writing is going to use a lot of repetitive words, so please be prepared for Similar-Words-Hangover you poor reader)

Okay, there's actually nothing anything about ugly victimization here, because being good looking is too easy.
 You're good looking enough with a cool music playlist on your Ipod, you're good looking enough with the right ex in the past that made you even look harder to get, you're good looking enough with the right scent, you're good looking enough with the right logo on your shoes, you're good looking enough with no answer on the phone, you're good looking enough with right hobbies & interests, you're good looking enough with good taste in literature, and you're good looking enough with nice status on your twitter (for 2009-2010 period anyway, in twitter case).

 If you don't have an Ipod, no perfume, cheap logo on your shoes, got no Ex, no hobbies & interests,  hate reading, and.. got no twitter account, then I would say you have to chase some flight to Vatican. 




I Love My Surname Poetry

One day in a poetry class.

Mrs. Humming: Daisy! Your turn. Read us some poetry.

Daisy stood up from her chair and walked forward to face the class. Her big glasses always slid down on her tiny nose. Red freckles all around her apple bones, and clear blue eyeballs fully opened whenever she felt excited. Her medium dark hair, a bit messy like Niagara Waterfalls, covered some right-and-left side of her round face. She's a creature that people won't forget at the first sight. Her names is Bond, Daisy Bond.


"I Love my Surname...." she shouted the poetry's title in full of confidence, made everyone in class sigh boringly. Daisy always came up with idiosyncratic poetry. Everyone hates it,  maybe except for Wek Lee Sung, the Taiwanese boy that had a crush on Daisy, and of course whom Daisy like very much since 2 years ago. Daisy liked Sung first, then 3 days later Sung had the same feeling. He thought Daisy was kinda cute.

And anyways, here goes again Daisy Bond with her poetry.

I love my surname, because people always think I have something in common with Mr. James.
  I love my surname, because I could introduce myself to new people in a cool way like "Hi I'm Bond, Daisy Bond" and they will frown. I love it when people frown at me. 
 I love my surname, because it could make people forget how weird I look.
 I love my surname, because it's not too hard to spell like my friend's surname, Timo Whazklopozcisky.

(there's a sound of Boo from Timo, then Mrs. Humming shhhed him, then turned her head again to Daisy who already knew it would happen somehow. "Go on, Daisy, continue your poetry.")

 I love my surname, because it sounds fine with Daisy.
 I love my surname, because I can have it from the time I was born until I die later someday, while Sean Connery could only have it for 7 episodes.
 But one thing I hate about my surname, it has to go if I marry Wek Lee Sung. 
 Wait! But I kinda like Daisy Sung, because people will think I could sing. So I wish someday my name is Daisy Sung anyway.