Andrias Yose

     The last few days I spent a few hours clicking on the television channel. Click after click, channel after channel, I saw new faces, younger people. After a few days like this, I felt it was déjà vu all over again.
    As a teenager and young adult growing up, I would at times envisioned myself, or immersed myself in deep psychologically focused and imaginative trance-mode. In this state, I would explore the possible psyche of other people, but the main prerogative was my parents.
     In this state, too, I was able to imagine who they were in the past, how they came to be who they were, and the decisions they made consciously and subconsciously which finally led them to where they are now today.
     I dwell in this, if you can call it so, a mind hypnotization, because I wanted to know why my parents acted and behaved they way they did when I was a child. I wanted to know and understand the further past to better understand my past in order to make sense of my present. Little did I know, this practice of mind hypnotize gave me something else entirely unexpected. I will reveal more on this later.
     Through this means, I understand more and more about my parents past, until finally I came to the conclusion that as existence ordained it, and as choices/decisions have shaped and bent its courses, so shall, too, be mine as well. I came to be finally at peace with my parents’ past and my past somewhere when I was in my mid twenties.
     Now in my early thirties, thirty-one to be exact, I can’t help to wander whether because I practice mind hypnotization so frequently in my earlier youth that somehow gave me the ability to focus myself so deeply so, and yet let my mind, heart, and soul entirely unrestrained.
     For once, and perhaps for the last time in my life, I was able to travel and be one with the vast and boundless space and time infinite. There was no I. No consciousness, nor subconsciousness. There was no self.
     I don’t just talk, "I am one with space and time," for I felt it, I saw it, I experienced it.
     There was no rush, no anxiety, no passion, no awe nor resentment, and it was not even a floating kinda feeling one feels when deeply in love or while drunk.
     I am very much tempted to say that it feels like an eternal peaceful feeling, but this feels more like an ‘indescribable’ peaceful feeling.
     Now, I reflected back to my younger days when I would occasionally spurted out that "I was born in this world for a mission, a mission I know not of." This self-reflection reminded me in concurrent with the previous thought written, that it was not just "I" who felt this, but many more souls that I have not taken into account of previously, be they be from the past, present, or the future.
     Is it in naught to repeat such question as, "What has Thou, my Lord, ordained me to accomplish in this world?" Per chance, wisdom in mind, it would be more suited for me to state, "Ready or not, I am Yours for Thy bidding, my Lord."
     It was déjà vu all over again.
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Andrias Y.
3.34 AM
December 21, 2007

     Dreams are murky at its best, and at times present themselves as nothing more than snapshots, bits and pieces, of the past interspersed with imaginations and the subconscious.
     Half an hour or so ago, I was still sleeping. The brief moment before I consciously opened my eyelids and forced myself out of bed, my mind carried with itself a fleeting and hazy dream about me and about a special woman who once entered my life.
     I only recalled that the dream jumbled in snapshots of my memory about the experiences we had together. The dream stirred my emotion (when I was still sleeping) to experience several emotions within a short time frame.
     There was happiness, peacefulness, anger, bitterness, disappointment, regret, love, and forgiveness.
     When my subconscious mind receded in the control of my mind, and the conscious mind enters, I thought to myself, "Man…, what a strange dream…"
     I tried to draw myself back into sleep, after all, it was only 2:00 AM post Idul Adha in Indonesia. But somehow something inside of me couldn’t do just that. As consciousness gathers strength, I quickly reflected shortly on my past, and that gnawing question resurfaced again…
     "Did I do the right thing by letting her go?"
     A few blank blank period went by, and my heart and conscience spoke to my mind gently.
     "Back then, you were still inexperienced. She was, after all, the first true love of your life that you put so much heart and soul into. She was also the first in more ways than one. There are memories there, good memories aside from the few bad ones. Cherish those good memories."
     My legs half unexpectedly carried me to my computer downstairs, and I steeled my resolve to reply to a message she sent me quite a while back through Friendster. I owe her at least that much. A courtesy on my part to reply her good wishes. I owe her that.
     There are many things that happened and can happen in one’s short life. May romances, many intrigues, many unresolved things. Sometimes, I feel the heart and the mind carry too many unnecessary burdens that restraint the soul from being free, …and, from speaking freely.
     I am now reminded of a phrase from a poem I once wrote when my thoughts and heart were with her, "What dreams may come, let them come." I was won over by the phrase after watching Robbin Williams’s movie, "What Dream May Come." A movie about a man who goes to Heaven, and yet after discovering that his wife goes to Hell, he journeys to Hell to rescue her soul.
     His love and compassion for his wife touched me so.
     And here, finally at last, I conclude this blog with words from Hamlet.
     "For in that sleep of death what dreams may come. When we have shuffled off this mortal coil, must give us pause."
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Andrias Y.
3:03 AM
December 21, 2007

     well, what a month! October, that is!
     My cousin, Christy, just resigned as the assistant vp for DBS Bank in China to pursue a new career.
     Casy just gave to her lovely daughter, and that means I’m an uncle now, and Velwyn’s an aunt! Hohohohohoho! so very happy for Newton and Casy, especially for my Mom and Dad, ‘coz there’s a new addition in the family. ^___^
     Vel was accepted into the Ivy League of Industrial Design school, one of the best industrial design schools in USA. Great effort, Vel! And, I pray that you get your scholarship!
     my parents and two sisters gave their blessings for me and El. That’s another good news! hopefully things turn out ok, and we will be married by 2008. ^___^
     the least noteworthy of this news is, my online game character "Shikibu" in Ran Online has reached level 167. online friends said that "Shikibu" is the highest ranking QiGong job in the SG Campus. I was aiming for level 170, actually, but my health and my life are more important. ^____^
     from now until (hopefully) mid of November, I am expecting two more good news. And then after that I would like it very much to spend more time with El.
     other than from being the full time bum and traveler that I am right now, I am pleased with what’s going on. only one bad story, but that’s my own experience, and I don’t intend to blog it here.

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cherio,
Andrias (25 Oct 07)

     When I was growing up, I used to be in awe when present in someone’s room with drawers fully-stacked with books. Thick books.

     Talk about drawers fully-stacked with books, my first true joy of reading began back in primary school.

     I don’t remember how it really started, but I just remembered my father used to keep some books away from the children. I remembered picking up an old tiny book that is filled with mostly black and white drawings with Chinese characters. It was actually more like a tiny booklet of comic. ::wink::

     That got me started, somehow or another. With occassional visits to nearby book-rental mini stores. Some of ‘em were real teeney, you know. Got enough space inside just for a person to sit. One such store probably could house only, say… two hundred books. But, those mini-stores were my favourite haunts for martial-arts fiction books. I even dreamed of opening up a book-rental store of my own, too. Back then, that idea seemed cool to me. Real cool.

     Then during my tertiary education in Singapore, bookstores like MPH and Time were my favourite haunts. I also enjoyed the trip to the Brash Basah complex or elsewhere commercial buildings known to have bookstores with many, many books. But, the best place fully-filled with books which I loved most, was the libraries.

     You’ve got the national library, and many community libraries in Singapore. I don’t frequent the national library as often as I would like to, probably because I was lazy to travel the distance, so the nearby community libraries were the next best choice.

     Weeks after weeks, I borrowed many books. But for the life of me, I can never recall the titles, contents, or authors of the books.

     When I was in the University, my favourite spots were in Hayden Library (Arizona State U.) and the Music building.

     The first memory of my first visit to the Haydn Library was … more like lost and forgotten. But, I remembered the feeling.

     I felt overwhelmed, … and, spooked.

     I don’t know whether all libraries gave you a feeling of being overwhelmed. Thousands upon thousands of books from every single angle that your eyes stretched upon.

     Altho’ Haydn wasn’t the first library that I have set my feet on, it was the largest I have ever been to.

     It was also during my University years that I picked up a more regular habit of purchasing books, to be read during my leisure time.

     Today, I can claim with a certain confidence that those books I read outside of classrooms’ curriculum taught much more than all the teachings that teachers in the schools put together. Yet combined…, now, that’s something else.

     Come November, I’ll turn thirty-one. How many pieces of writings have I read in my lifetime?

     Not that it matters for me, but sometimes this silly little question matters to others.

     I don’t really remember when I began to be forgetful. But I know that there were two things that contributed to my habit of forgetting things.

     Somewhere in 1992, one type of writings which I enjoyed reading and which I seek with a certain fervor was anecdotes. Anecdotes are what you can call snapshots of some interesting events.

     Anecdotes tend to be light but deep, simple but imbued with certain wisdoms.

     In one such anecdotes which I enjoyed reading, I chanced upon a Zen anecdote. Can’t remember the who, what, when, how, and why, ‘coz all I remember is that after you read stuffs, you learn stuffs, and you forget what you read. Let just the essence flow in you and through you. That’s the best explanation I can give you now. ::chuckle::

     Then in 2004, after my brother passed away, some stuffs stored in my memory began to fade. Blurred, disappeared.

     I guess it’s just a psychological and emotional things which catalyzed my current state of forgetting things. But, overall, my head often feels light. And that’s a good thing. A real good thing.

     Hand me a pillow, and I will slumber in flash to the la-la-land in a matter of minutes.

     I don’t have problems sleeping. But I’ve got a problem sleeping regularly just like a normal person. I also got a problem being awaked, ‘coz I made myself real tired before I really rest myself. Ain’t good things either way, I feel.

     While awoke, I occassionally talked to myself, telling myself that I really need a real long and good rest. Come today, I question that thought for the first time. Have I truly recover fully from the trauma of natures that involve my feeling and my mind?

     The answer is, I have recovered. And the real statement is, I have become a tad complacent.

     Short is, this is it. Let’s begin afresh again, shall I? Time ain’t gonna wait for no one. :: smile::

     Writing a piece that comes from deep thoughts or deep feelings felt like the piece was a small chunk of my life. A small chunk of the record of an entire life.

     Writing poems, on the other hand, is the creation of a portal, or gateway, to parts of my soul.

My new favorite game: Little Fighter 2

• http://www.littlefighter.com/
• Freeware for Windows
• Developed by: Marty Wong & Starsky Wong in 1999

Little Fighter Online:

• http://www.littlefighteronline.com/

Little Fighter Online

• http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Little_Fighter_Online

     taste the tastes of women… interesting thought that just crossed my mind.

     there is really just a very thin layer that separates between virtuosity and shamelessness. two sides of the same coin. but that ain’t something infinitely women, men do have that inclination as well.

     i don’t know whether it’s a boon or curse on my part. but whence in my adolescence, i already made a promise to myself. other men may fall easily enamoured with the beauty of a woman’s face and body, but i will not.

     then over the past 1 year or so… well, this actually began july 2006 to the present date. i began to develop this perception that women ain’t really mysterious at all. one of the allures of a woman is her mysterious nature, so says some dead men. but the more i grew acquainted with women, the more i felt that women don’t need to be loved or liked because they’re mysterious.

     ’stead, respecting a woman is much more important. treating her as a human bein’. someone with some decency and self-worth. that, i think is much more important.

     and i ain’t just sayin’ this for the sake of gainin’ favor from the women kind. ain’t necessary, and don’t need that at all.

     i’m sayin’ this from my own experiences. limited my experiences may be, but much much more then when i began to take this steps back in that argumentatively fateful July of 2006.

     whether she is a famous professional, a middle-manager, a poor fella’, a child, a masseuse, or even a prostitute, an individual woman deserves at least a descent recognition and respect. what a woman may do or may not do, she has her own reason/s. same like just about anybody else, including men.

     think you that most, if not all, woman that sells her body for a man’s brief moment of pleasure is really proud of what she’s doin’? you take that lens away for a moment, you see her as a human being, as an individual, as someone else’s sister and daughter, maybe someone else’s mother and lover.

     life can be biatch as it is already, so why make things worse for ‘em. some or many men treat a woman that trades her body for money as a thing, an object. nothing more. a whim for man’s lusts. these men are demaning not women, not men, but they demean the essence of the very existence of being born as a human being, and as an individual.

     my heart bleeds and cries often enough as it is.

     on my part, i do what i can do.

     one moment at a time.

     what basic decency, what basic self-respect and self-worth that a woman i encounter deserves, i acknowledge. that’s the very least i can do. that’s where i begin.

     at times i wish i have a great amount of money, or a great amount of power. a semi-god, perhaps. i could provide safe homes, some jobs and trainings. food and clothing. education and care. simple stuffs that broken children, men and women, could definitely benefit from.

     mind u me that i ain’t interested in rehabilitation.

     options. have knowledge that there are other options. another chance. an opportunity. to lead a life knowing full well his/her basic rights for freedom and happiness.

     i do what i can. in my own way. small little acts that hopefully touch a scarred soul here and there along the way. to let that individual realize, that there is a light in that long, dark, and cold tunnel s/he has been walking for quite a while.

     i ain’t no saint. i ain’t no great hero. i am a simple person, doing simple things. i start from the small things in life.

     can’t remember the title of the song, but it’s a song sang by michael jackson, and there are lyrics sayin’ "…places faces…" BOOM! suddenly remembered the title of the song… "Black & White."

     da 1st 6 months of 2007, i’ve visited Sukabumi, Bandung, Bogor, Batam, Tapanuli, Semarang, Medan. In others, the western region of Indonesia.

     seen different faces of Indonesia, different environment and people. Tapanuli, thus far, struck me as most interesting. the characteristics of this region are definitely strong. i love places with their own unique characteristics. for that reason, i also strongly dislike Batam.

     Batam, in my own personal opinion, ain’t worth a sh*t ‘coz that place has no unique characteristics. well, there are characteristics, but ain’t unique and special.

     Batam for me felt more like an island with floating characteristics. it is tryin’ to define and shape itself, but it’s doing a lousy job at it. floating… floating… floating…

     another thing that struck me as different about Batam is the sense of its lawlessness and wildness. we called it ‘liar’ in Indonesian language for wild or untamed. i tend to define ‘liar’ in Batam as shapeless and shifting lawlessness. i don’t like it. if this is gonna be the next Singapore or 1/2 similar to Singapore, i say Batam really got a whole lotta catchin’ up to do.

     perhaps some years down da road, Batam will have its own unique characteristics. but until then, it ain’t gonna be a place I wanna visit again unless out of necessity (job/business related, or transit to Singapore).

     i definitely wanna visit Sumbawa, Lombok, East Kalimantan, Manado, Makassar, Jambi, Lampung, Ambon, and Papua. i’ve been to Jambi and Lampung before, many years ago, but the only thing that stuck in my mind was this tradionally man-made wooden bridge, that’s really long. why do i still remember the bridge? ‘coz my memory recalled someone said that they used the chopped-off head of young children as offerings to the river spirits or somethin’ like that. well, as a child that scared the sh*t out of me. hahaha. but.. come to think about it, maybe that bridge ain’t located in Lampung/Jambi, maybe Bangka-Belitung.

      uploaded 3 new pictures. morphed it with the PhotoDJ software equipped with my Sony Ericsson K610i cell phone.

      the picture i set as primary is the Asian Jay Leno version. ::chuckle::

      it began june 2006, it ends june 2007.

      ^_^