Ocean Calling

So let me tell you a story,
about a siren and a sailor,
separated by the sea,
but tried to fight their way together.

The siren had blue hair,
and the curious sailor couldn’t help but stare,
her skin was not fair,
but the sailor did not care.

The two of them were from different worlds,
yet they did not mind.
All what matters was their exchange of words,
and to show that they were kind.

Against the odds, they were together,
the siren, a playful seductress,
the sailor, an ambitious strong man,
and they thought they were looking at forever.

Sea currents change,
the waves crashed harder.
Situations change,
and they had to be apart from the other.

They both live in the sea,
but even the oceans separate them.
True, they weren’t allowed to see,
but the words of love saved them.

The siren swims, swims, swims,
in the water where no one could see her tears,
and she sings, sings, sings,
sings a happy song so no one could hear her fears.

She misses the sailor so much,
she was longing for his touch.
She loves him too much,
on her whole heart she vouch.

The more she cried, the more she drowned,
deeper into the ocean where it got dark.
But it was impossible for a siren to be drowned,
it was just her world that was turning dark.

Even when the siren and the sailor were in the sea,
they could not see each other.
Finally the siren could see,
maybe they don’t belong together.

So the siren swims away,
feeling every drop of water against her skin.
So that even when the sailor is away,
she can still love herself from within.

So long, my prince who curses like a sailor.

Ocean Calling

The Dreams Saga #1: Dangerous Boyfriend

With this post, I’m announcing a new section to this blog, which is called “The Dreams Saga” because, well it’s pretty self-explanatory, but my dreams are truly too epic beyond proportions most of the time. Unlike people who mostly forget their dreams, I can remember my most epic dreams for quite a long time. Long enough to let me sit down and write it down in this blog.

This dream I just had last night involved some of my high school friends, let’s call them Y and T (does NOT stand for YouTube). So I was attending this jazz festival in Jakarta (which I would totally never attend…like ever…just because I’m not into those jazz festivals). Another weird thing was that I went there by myself. The festival was an outdoor one, and there were those tents to cover you from the sun and rain with lines of elevating seats (?). Since I was going alone, I didn’t bother getting a fantastic seating spot and just settled for the less crowded spot at the back.

I climbed up the stairs to get to the seats and I just sat there, looking at the swarming crowd trying to get the nice spot closer to the stage. Then I looked to the seat on the far left in the line, there was a baby. A freaking crying baby. The baby was roughly 6 months old? I don’t know, but the baby was lying on the seat, alone. I was surprised because I saw no adults near the baby. I felt pretty disturbed (and scared) with the baby crying, so I went over to the seat and tried to calm down the baby.

If anyone of you really know me, I’m terrible with kids and babies. Apparently even in my dreams, I was still terrible with babies, and the baby just couldn’t calm down at all. I held the baby in my arms and kept trying to calm her/him down. Then this guy, who was probably a few years older than me, came to me and said that it was his baby. For the record, he looked way too young to have a baby.

As terrible as I was with a baby, I knew enough not to trust him and handle the baby because he looked kind of out of place. He was wearing a thick black trench coat over his shirt, I mean come on, if this was Jakarta, you would be dead from the heat already. I refused to give the baby to him and stood up to walk away. As I was walking away, I looked back and noticed he didn’t try to chase after me, which was great. I walked down the stairs and I met my friend, Y, who looked really surprised as I was holding a baby. She thought the baby was mine, and I told her it wasn’t, I just happened to find the baby alone. Even she thought that was really weird.

Somehow we ended up sitting next to each other and talking about random things because we haven’t seen each other in a long time. After quite sometime, the previous man came to us again and asked me for the baby, who had finally calmed down and stopped crying. Y thought he was the real father of the baby, so she looked at me and was about to grab the baby from my arm to give to him. I held the baby back and told her that I won’t give him the baby. All of a sudden, this guy took A FREAKING SWORD from behind his coat and we just ran that instant.

Y and I were running together trying to find a safe place (completely forgetting about the jazz festival lol) to hide from him. We were running around the arena, but we lost him so we thought we were safe. Then we met our other friend, T. Just like Y, T teased me because she thought that the baby I was holding was mine. After explaining the whole situation to her, she finally grasped the situation Y and I were in and we agreed to stick together.

While walking around, we were talking about things and T mentioned that she actually went with her boyfriend to the festival but he was going somewhere else for the time being. Then a guy called her name and T excitedly said, “That’s my boyfriend, guys!” and when Y and I turned around, we were horrified to see that her boyfriend was the guy who was chasing us previously. Y and I immediately ran away and sometime in the middle of our escape mission where we were trying to fit in the crowd to get away, THE BABY DISAPPEARED FROM MY HANDS.

The insane guy stood there in front of us with the baby magically in his hands, and he took off his face mask and suddenly he turned into an old grandpa with white, messy beard, and he raised his sword while Y and I were panicking and screaming and trying to get away, only to find out that our dear friend T was caught in this guy’s hypnosis and strangled us and I woke up.

 

MORAL OF THE STORY: PLEASE ALWAYS DO A BACKGROUND CHECK ON YOUR BOYFRIEND BEFORE HE GOES OUT AND KILLS YOUR FRIENDS. LOL

 

Freud’s Possible Interpretation (FPI): the baby represents something that is not mine but is precious to me and the guy. I wonder what it is…

The Dreams Saga #1: Dangerous Boyfriend

My Hairevolution

Since I have nothing much to do today (and I actually woke up at 2.30 pm…awesome!) I just want to share a story about my hair. Yes, my hairevolution.

So as you can obviously see, I have red hair. It’s actually short at the moment, in some of photos I was wearing my extensions. Obviously, this is not my natural hair colour, sorry to break it down for you. I wish it was. I’ve only had red hair since mid 2011 when I just moved to Brisbane, but it feels like I’ve had it forever.

Like any normal Indonesians, or even Asians in general, I had black hair. A hair colour that I felt just was not for me somehow. I couldn’t dye my hair at all, because all Indonesians have black hair, if you dye it brown, the teachers in school would notice immediately and suspend you for colouring your hair. Especially since I went to a Catholic, all-girl school for 6 years from middle school to high school. It was a very strict school, but I had my best memories from those years.

Anyways, everyone knew me as “the girl with the extremely long hair” because my hair reached up my thighs. I had never cut it short because I felt safe with it. I love it when people come to me and say “you have such beautiful long hair, how do you take care of it?”. The most extreme thing that I did was cutting my fringe (or bangs) when I was 16, and straighten my hair because my hair is naturally wavy. 

It reached up to a point where my hair has not been cut for 18 years. It actually looked like this:

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These were old photos, by the way. They were taken in 2009 for my yearbook, and as you can see on the first picture I was basically sitting on my hair. It was quite a hassle, I would tie up my hair in a bun almost every time. All of my friends would easily recognise me from the hair, it was pretty fun actually.

One day in around October or November 2010, I woke up and thought, “hey, let’s chop off this hair!!” and called my favourite hairdresser who had known me since I was 8 years old. I told her to come to my house because I want to get a haircut, but she thought it would be my usual hair trim, she didn’t see it coming. When she got to my house, I told her that I want to cut it real short. I swear to God she almost cried. She kept asking me if I was serious about it, or if I want to cut it to waist-length only, but I insisted that I want it cut short. 

It took her a while to let the situation sink in, probably around half an hour. When she finally collected herself, she braced herself and cut my hair. This is the last photo of my long hair (may you rest in peace, lol)

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…and she chopped it off! The end result kind of looked like this after a while:

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and that was the time when I was experiencing with hair colours. As soon as I chopped off my hair, I just dyed it different colours, this was one of my successful ones, I actually had my hair orange for a while…sad I don’t have the decent photos to show how orange it was in real life. Anyways, I discovered my obsession with red hair, and my journey began…

I tried some failed red dyes that made my hair look dark red instead of the bright red I was looking for…

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I switched brands and voila! It got to the red that I have right now, without any bleach 🙂 I love my red hair and I’m not going back to black for a while, probably in a few years. If anyone is interested in knowing the name of the brand, just contact me or comment below.

My hair is still short, but I kind of want to grow it out a little, maybe. I don’t know, we’ll see. Thanks for reading this massive post, by the way. It’s not important, nor it will change anyone’s lives, I just want to share my story. 

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Cheers! 

My Hairevolution