I always think we’re all made of stardust. Out of the enormous stars that exploded billion years ago. That the atoms made every little piece of us. Isn’t it beautiful that something inside us is all glittery and sparkling under the moon light? (Well, this might be a corny idea). And when you take a look deeper into someone’s eyes, you can see the constellation of mind that they keep inside them, sparkling and fiery. And when you look around at the people, you know that they carry their own universe within them. Imagine how they can walk lightly as if they don’t have this universe pregnancy or whatever. So, if there are billions of people in this earth now, imagine how many universe (or shall we call it as multiverse) that grow among us? It grows inside you as whatever you want it to be, whether you want it to glow like firework and burst upon the sky, or glow dimly in the corner of a room. There’s nothing wrong in whatever you choose. Because you are your own star. You light up your own universe. You live within yourself.
Monday, 20 January 2013
I don’t want to start this letter with ‘dear, you’. Because I know you won’t like it. You think it sounds cheesy. But, fuck you. Deep down inside you’re the cheesiest person who cries over break up poems eventhough you’re not in sorrow, who spends piles of tissues on drama films you watch at midnight, who sobs silently between the pages of young adult novels. So, how’s your day? Are you married? Whom are you married to? Is he that possesive and over – jealousy guy you met on a blind date? Do you have any children? Do you check on the labels every time you buy something on supermarket or whatever and make sure they’re super healthy and contains no msg and banned food color? Damn, I always think you’ll be that kind of mom who’s radical enough with vegan guns and restricted television time. I know you’re patient, very patient, to your students back then. But, I don’t know what you’re going to do with your own children if you have some. What do you do for a living now? Do you still have those dreams of being a fashion photographer, having a nice small vegan cafe, or writer? Damn, you used to want to be a writer, a fucking writer. I remember you wrote a bunch of fables and fairytales back when you were a third and fourth grader. You wrote them on the dining table, and not wanting anyone to look at you while you were writing your pieces. You were so demanded, you could wrote five or even ten pages of A5 in one night, with your hands. You wrote too many heart broken poems when your first love dumped you. You were still 12 or 13 at that time. You never knew you could be so depressive when you’re down, right? Anyway, how’s photography? Do you still shoot with films? How much are they now? Whom do you shoot now? Now, I have a good question haha. How many guys have you fucked? I hope you’ve fucked at least four people. Have you finally had an epic orgasm? Because I’ve never had any. I don’t know is it because I’m just not fuckable or I haven’t met someone who knows how to please this hard to please lady. I’m so jealous with my friends who seem like they have a great sex life. Fuck them. I hope you’ve fucked someone hot. Seriously. Hot as fuck. I hope you’re brave enough to be more adventurous and spontaneous. Have you gone somewhere far? I haven’t gone to anywhere special. I had this little journey with my boyfriend to Sempu last august (fyi it was on 2012) . We went to Bromo as well, but, I’ve never loved mountain as I always love beach. Do you still love beach? Do they still have instagram or tumblr? God, I love them so much. They’re flooded with cut fruits or cakes in beautiful arrangement and they're usually served on antique plates with white background or wooden table. But, aren’t they cute? Anyway, how many times have your heart been broken? How many times have you broken your own heart? I hope you don’t cry as pathetic as you did in your teenage years. But, I bet you’re stronger now. I know you will. I mean, look at you, living and shit. And, how about your health? Are you still a vegan? And hey, where do you live? What are you doing now, beside reading this letter? Are you making breakfast for the kids? Are you doing nothing in the middle of the day/night/dawn as you used to? You were always such a potato couch. Are you knitting or crocheting? What have you made from your needles? How's dad? How's mom? Do they as fuzzy as old people can be? I’m sorry I’m asking too much questions. I hope you’re fine. I hope you can manage your emotion better. I hope you don’t make your own drama. I hope you can decide when to take a break , when to stop and when to start again. I hope you can be better in standing up for yourself (don’t let people go to your queue again! EVER! And this goes for anything else). I hope you’re healthy (by this I mean organic veggies and fruits are affordable to you). I hope you’re smiling there. I hope you’re still alive when you read this, cause no one knows, right? And the most important thing is, I’m proud that you’ve lived though them all. The heart breaks, the break ups, the crashed dreams, the death of your loved ones, the long years in college, the struggle for your jobs, the health problem, the reality in this life, well, basically all of them. Keep on living years ahead.
I love you.
I love you.
I'm sorry I haven't made any photo story for the past four months, I'm having some projects and I'm just not in the mood of making one. But, here's one project that I've done! A Malaysian shoegaze band asked me to do their cover album. They want a picture of girl smoking in such a dreamy way with a hint of pink burst. I'm so honoured to do this! Go check out their music on bandcamp !
Here are the photos!
and here are the original and unpublished photos I took. The girl on the picture is Diani, a good friend of mine and she did a good job by looking flawless there.