Have you ever wondered if the world around you was real?

Or if everything was just... a lie. What if what u see, hear, touch , sense etc2 is filtered extremely and its not what is in the real world. it creeps me out sometimes, to think that because i can see , hear, etc2 I'm the only one real. How do you know that you're not the only one who sees things like this. how do you know, that we aren't living in our dreams , or in an eternal limbo like in Inception. I mean it sounds stupid right? But come on, think about it. How would it feel to not be able to escape 'reality' . errgh. creepy.

eh. but then again, if this was my world, the world in my head, that means I'm playing God right? I believe in God and I believe that he made man, and as the bible had said "We are all alive together", its enough for me to reassure that this world is real. Why would I be God? or why would God put me in this eternal dream.

eh. i dnno. what do u think?

Streetsmart or Booksmart

Streetsmart for the FUCKING WIN.

You ask me why? Because what is the use of knowing the circumference of the Earth? or the depth of the Ocean? or 283721987289372 x 28129320 divided by the square of 867126364654? Really, what? I guess that depends on the course you are taking or the occupation you want to have later in the future. But , whatever I become later on, I want to learn from experience. NOT FROM TEXT BOOKS.

I want to become a successful hotel or restaurant manager. I'd rather meet lots and lots of people, communicate, and interact than understanding stereotypes from textbooks and author's interpretations. I think it's silly to read a book over and over again to understand people, when in reality, you just need to step forward and ask them their name or what they are doing.

It's really frustrating to those in school who are booksmart and they cry over their grades. Because you know, its seems like they want to be EVEN MORE BOOKSMART so they can get 100/100. I'd rather get a 60/ 100 without studying more than a perfect mark with 50 hours of studying on the subject.

Okay, maybe reading books is fine. But if thats all you do - you sit down and ignore the world , stay in your room and read and read and read- what are you going to learn from that book? It's really useless to memorize something if you cant understand it enough to apply it in today's society.

What do you think? :3

FUCK.

I just finished baking my first ever lemon tart.

Where is the tart, you say?

Well there isn't a tart, because I fucking dropped it. Yes, I. fucking. dropped. it. So there you go, the 3 hours of my life I will never get back. I was going to move it into a container and put it in the fridge, but apparently God and gravity have another plan for it, which is to slip from my hand and serenely fall to the floor. And I screamed, not because of the fall, but because the hot filling dropped onto my feet and now my feet are red.

For what it's worth, I tried some of it (the one that didn't touch the floor of course), and it tasted awesome. And no, I will NOT grieve over this stupid shit because in matter of hours I will make another one. Fuckyeah.

Oh look, it's almost 4 in the morning. And I'm covered with lemon filling. Isn't it just great?

P. S. : when life gives you lemon, make a lemon tart and do NOT drop it.

i'm not sure if this makes me a perfectionist, but...

okay, lemme just say it.

i hate it so much, and i mean SO MUCH, when people put a quote on their tweets/pm(s)/statuses without inserting the quotation mark. i mean, dude, that's intellectual property theft! when you wanna re-say something that isn't your original saying, PUT A QUOTATION MARK! it's not that hard, really!

so, instead of typing

imagination is more important than knowledge

spend two additional seconds to press shift + ' on your computer (windows here), and type

"imagination is more important than knowledge"

IT'S NOT ROCKET SCIENCE REALLY!

before you judge me for being a grammar freak/nazi, lemme clarify my reasons. typing the quotation mark shows that "hey i didn't create it, i copied it" so when someone else wants to copy that quote from us, they know not to source us. second is, really, it just looks... right.

quoting correctly ain't rocket science. try it.

When I was a kid

I was told by my mom how I liked to bite and pinch people's backs and shoulders when I was a baby. Even though this is not at all a surprise for some people, I found it amusing. Hehe.

So she said that I wouldn't stop until people force me to, even though I had no teeth to do an actual and proper bite, and left them with torn shirts and bruises.

And I had this white baby crib with lattices, and I would chew them until the paint came off. Meh, I bet those paint fragments had stunted the development of certain part of my brain. I bet I could've been a great musician, or grown another 10-15 cm if it wasn't for that paint.

Anyway, enough with the denials.

P.S. : guess what my mom craved when she's pregnant with me? Crabs.

Yeah, so much for all the pinching. People should've seen that coming.

Buried

So I just watched the film Buried , directed by Rodrigo Cortes and stars Ryan Reynolds, only. It's basically kind of like a one man show. I thought that since I'm taking film theory and criticism soon in uni, I'mma start early and review this film.

The whole film has 1 setting. A coffin. Ryan Reynolds, named Paul Conroy, wakes up in the dark finding himself in a dark box, with a zippo lighter and a smart phone. Conroy soon realizes that he is buried underground as he isn't able to lift the lid of. He also realizes that he was put there as a ransom -- he was a hostage. His life in the box is probably more eventful than any other day in his life , since he is only a mundane truck driver bringing supplies to children in Iraq. His kidnappers, thinking he was a soldier, found him valuable and asked him to get 1 million dollars in exchange for his freedom. With no insurance, no riches and denied by the FBI the chance to pay for the situation , Conroy is not able to fulfill that wish and is not released. So the only way he can get out is , manually. Someone has to find him and dig him out. And no, his cell phone was cloned so the GPS can't find it.

Amazingly, this film wasn't boring. It actually kept me at the edge of my seat. Despite it being limited to a rather big coffin, Rodrigo Cortes managed to keep the audience attached. He changed angles, lightings, and gave special effects to dramatize Conroy's situation. During turning points in the story there were rapid close-ups and when Conroy was contemplating he would zoom out, at the same time stay in the boundaries of that coffin. Lighting was used effectively, lighting was realistic. The flashlight he later found would die once in awhile and would flicker after clicking it a couple of times. The Blackberry he had gave of blue lights that would dim when it closes on his ear. Even though the film didn't leave the coffin we knew what Conroy was thinking through repeat of the voices he has heard in the film and we knew a few things happening outside the coffin. There was sand, so obviously it was in a desert. There was a mosque nearby, so probably not an open desert. He was probably in a town( I would hate to think he was just in the kidnappers backyard) and it was a target for a war since bombs were thrown to it.

But enough about that. The real show was Ryan Reynolds. When I first read that the film was a one man's show I was like 'wut?' but then I heard it was Ryan Reynolds. He's no stranger to the horror genre but I'm sure many are confused as to what a charming, hilarious and bubbly was doing playing a thriller and alone at that. I was doubtful about his performance because he'd have to be good enough to keep the audience from falling asleep out of boredom. But, hell yeah, he did it. He was not an angel, he swore, he was an ingrate, he yelled at the people who were supposed to help him, he was a suck up, and yet...he still got the audience sympathy. He showed tenderness and love at times, especially when he called his mother and his family. He controlled his emotions incredibly that it didn't cross over to becoming a melo drama. His expressions help the audience feel anger, frustation, hopeful, and skeptic at different times of the movie. And personally, I wanted to cut his kidnapper's balls off. This film has given Reynolds a whole lot of respect.

There are many reasons why this film is a horror film. To the claustrophobic this is the ultimate horror movie. To those who are afraid of being alone, well, Conroy only had a few voices to keep him company-- and not all were to his support. It was creepy that even after the credits, I still managed  to think "What if it was me?" "What would I do if it was me in Conroy's shoes". Other than being buried alive for no reason, I thought the real horror was the side to society we don't see in daily life. Later in the story we figure out that the man who kidnap Conroy is not a terrorist, he is just...a desperate man. It made think about how cruel the human can be. To put someone else through sheer terror just for money is just...madness. Desperation can make someone do cruel things, and I haven't seen anything as cruel as this -- off or on screen. I mean, it would be more understandable *though it would never justify* putting someone else in a coffin if he had a family to feed with the money he needed or if his child was dying of cancer and he needed money to help save his life. I don't understand how someone could commit such a crime with the thought that he is destroying a family, pushing a wife to depression and depriving  a child of a father's presence hanging on the back of their head. I can't imagine living with that guilt. If they thought about it, would their child or wife be proud of what they've done , despite it being to help them? Would they want to live with blood on their hands?

I'd like to think that there is good in everyone. Like yin and yang. That Osama Bin Laden, Saddam Hussein and all those other terrorists had a heart somewhere underneath that evil. But it's films like this that prove me wrong. Anyone who would do this to someone and consciously has lost my belief that there is good in them.  

I'm in no way in a position to conclude this, but I do hope that this film wins at least SOMETHING in next years award season.

PICTURES TIME:

So you should meet my friends

You probably wouldn’t get along with them. Their mean, rude, frank, so and so. I mean when you’re stupid (believe me, I know) they will drill it into your head. Every little mistake will earn you a facepalm, or in Richard and Gino’s case, a face brick (???) . They use every swear word in the English language on you. I mean, one time, my friend called me a stupid fuck and I , weird as I am, I laughed my ass off. They make up names for me, the latest one , “nizam”. The other time, I swear, a friend got pissed at me out of nowhere when I told her good morning.  They practically tweet embarrassing things about you and mention you. Their. asses. Hahaha. Some dudes ACTUALLY look at my boobs and ask me if they have grown because of my gym sessions. FREAKS.  

When you’re being a bitch, they say it. When they disagree with you, they say it. When they think you’re being a hypocrite, they tell you. Their all *including me* kind of arrogant. We went through IB, now we believe we can do it all. LOL, but we can. Now, a 4000 word essay is cake, 3 o clock is our 8 o clock. (see what I mean). 

We don’t even have much in common. Some of my friends like Anime, only some like F.R.I.E.N.D.S and Glee, some like korean stars. I don’t understand what they see in them and they don’t understand my likes either. We don’t even like the same types of boys sometimes. 

But that’s the thing. Their different. When it really matters, they stick up for you. When I wanted to smoke, they told me not to. When I wanted to run away, they told me that would only put fuel into the fire. When I have problems with Asyraaf, their literally only an MSN chat or Skype call away. One time, my friend skipped her class just to accompany me cry. 

Two of my dude friends brought me to more new places in a couple of trips more than my parents in my 18 years here. Another two of my dudes accompanied me almost every night when life was bland as hell. Other two of my friends are so entertaining I believe they should have their own show. When I’m crying, they only take 2 minutes to make me laugh again. 

They pick me up and take me home, they chip in for my cab fares, they even let me use their names when I’m in trouble with my parents. And when it’s your birthday they will shove you with a second cake. They know which your favorite drink and what you order in restaurants. Jesus, today, on of my friends actually kind of read my mind. Hahaha. 

And I don’t care. Even if their insensitive and mean, their awesome like that. I can’t imagine how boring this summer would be if they were decent, nice, tactful and…not this way. 

So this is to you, Annisa, Jessica, Jesslyn , Agnes, Anya, Gino, Richard, Fajar, Fito. You have made this lifeless summer, one to remember. No words will expresses how much I love you all just the way you are and how much I will miss you  And Mia, Cavin, Jason, Kiki and Celine, you have no idea how much I miss you. I can’t wait for when we see each other again. I love all of you to tiny atom size bits. :3

Duhello~

Duhello fwenz. So I was reading Anya's previous posts and I want to write something about something I hate. I hate. HATE HATE how kids nowadays want to grow up so fast. Goddammit, chill kids.

I hate that grade 6 girls are dressing up like teenagers, using nail polish, GETTING A TWITTER, and when boys start liking rap songs and skulls and crap like that. I want to slap each of these bastards and tell them how much I miss being a child. How much I want to watch Pokemon, Spongebob, Powerpuff Girls whenever I want and when I want and not to worry about 9/11 happening again or terrorism striking here and there. I DON'T want to worry about the future and I want to stay with my family. I know this prolly makes me sound like a whiny bitch, but I don't care. I'd still prefer being hugged everyday by mom and being tucked into bed anyday , compared to the grown up life. I miss those times when my only problems were going home to catch a show or not having enough to buy a toy. I miss that feeling that I'm not alone, that whatever I'm going through I have my mom and dad to help me clean up the mess.

I hate the fact that now kids have blackberries and they are exchanging facebook accounts. Go out, run around, have fun. Go swimming, watch cartoons, color with crayons. Don't ask for Macbooks so you can Photobooth to death. I'm so fucking glad that my brother isn't like those other kids. Though he spends a lot of time in the PSP he still goes out and plays soccer, draws and so on. Start acting ur age, kids of 2010. Because sooner than you think , time sneaks up on you, and makes you grow up.

Sinner?

You know like in a cliquish drama, when the character goes into a surgery, then he's cured, then his girlfriend gonna be like "THANK YOU DOCTOR, GOD BLESS YOU!!!"?

Is that even possible?

Seriously, think about it. I don't know if this is valid in all religions, but I thought human lives are supposed to be in God's hands? Then if this is true, wouldn't that make doctors become the biggest sinners of all? They actually are opposing God by stalling people's lives. It's like they're telling God "No, you can't kill this person, because I have the power to avoid death." right in His face.

I'm not saying that doctors really are sinners and should go to hell or something. However, I was just wondering that many religions despise homosexuality, atheism, or even science, telling them that they shouldn't be doing what they're doing because it's a sin, but in the other hand there are doctors who deliberately avoid death.

And there are doctors who work as reverends too??? And Catholic Hospitals???

????????????????????

oh la-la-love.

PLEASE. i am begging you, whoever reads this (prolly no one), to stop using the word "love" way too many times. love is a big, big thing and saying it too much would just erase its true meaning. there's a big ass difference between having a huge crush for a girl and loving her. get that right before you go around screaming "i love you"

isa gino i know you'd find it extremely ironic that i'm writing about love. but i just can't take another generic teenager screaming "i love you" like he's selling peanuts at the train station.

that is all.

Soon very soon.........

….I will leave Jakarta. I'm sort of torn with this one. In one hand I'm excruciatingly bored with the same malls and same places here. I think its time for a new adventure. But on the other hand, I really don't want to live the home I've been living in for the past 18 years..

 Some of the few things I won't miss:

- I hate the traffic it has ALL THE TIME. Especially when it’s raining. I could stand outside for 2 hours and wait for a cab but none would come because of the rain.

-I hate the road that stops cars for 120 seconds and lets them pass for only 8 seconds. How fucked up is that?! 

-I hate how I can’t walk peacefully outside without weird guys looking at me and whistling and saying CEWEE” or whatever. But this probably goes for every place in the world. Not just Jakarta. 

- I hate how people spit on the road. This is one of the things that make me scared.

- I hate some taxi drivers who drive so  recklessly. 

Things I will miss from here:

- THE FOOD ZOMG THE FOOD. Okirobox takoyaki, Gado gado, NASI GORENG, SIOMAY, Pepper Lunch, Secret Recipe, FANTA, Hoka hoka Bento. TAHU GORENG TEMPE AAAAAAAA I’m going to cry. 

- I miss those boutiques that sell cheap clothes. HAHA. 

-Dufan. Period. 

- how pretty the city looks at night. There are colorful lights on some trees on some roads and they hide the pollution and make Jakarta more tolerable. 

- cheap Dvds. I buy TONS of them. 

And of course, my friends and family. 

I’m going to miss Jessica, Annisa, Fajar, Fito, Gino, Richard, Anya, Maureen, Jesslyn so much. I’m going to miss hanging out with my family on the weekends. You know despite everything here I hate, and sometimes how angry this city can make me, I feel so lucky because I got to meet those people here and I got to grow up here. Even though it’s not my favorite place in the world, the people I found here make it so much better than it seems. 

Kind of like a messy room. It’s a mess and everything is scattered here and there, but you can’t help but think of it as a sanctuary. And even though I can’t wait to leave and I’m Filipino , Jakarta will always be my home. 

Cheerio~

FIN.A.LLY.

hello, i'm Isa,  the third writer in this random-oh-so-random blog. Most of my friends (and by most I mean all)  are dyslexic because they call me Ija. I really really have no idea what to write here so I'm just gonna start off with bitching about blogspot.

GINO, MR ADMIN, MOVE TO TUMBLR. kthxbye.

Round round baby round round...*collapsed*

It's been 2 years since the first time I had my first vertigo attack. Let me tell you something, it. does. NOT. feel. good. Standing straight is impossible to be done, let alone walking. It'd be like if you're walking towards the opposite direction of a revolving merry-go-round, you'll see the floating scary horses, the poles, the mirrors, screaming kids, altogether,, and weeeheeee. dead.

So recently I had the vertigo again so I decided to see a doctor. And the doctor said I should get my brains, blood, and ears checked.

Ok now here's where we get to the point that you can't judge me. I have a thing with blood tests. The thing is, emm, I.... like 'em. Hehe... *v* SERIOUSLY I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHY, SO DON'T ASK. Let's just say I like the part when you get to see your blood fills up the test tube.

Fortunately, nothing was found in my brains, and the doctor said something in my ears fell off its socket or something, hence it's messing up my balance control. And the doctor said he need to perform some sort of a therapy and NO OPERATION WHOHOO!! Imagine how much fortune will it cost. #asianpride

i are anja.

hey hey, it's anya here. i'm that awesome person who gave gino the idea to start a blog. we went to the same A2 class. and he was effing dumb. ha. just kidding. but kinda true. he wasn't this good in essay-writing. guess i've been sucha great influence for him that we both ended up with a 6/7. yes, the highest point you could get in IB is a 7. god number. IB is god. not really, but you get the idea.

sooo. i'm not really sure what i'm supposed to write here. i'm just here to avoid the brain-shrinking-into-the-size-of-a-raisin process. sorry for ranting but... after two torturous years in IB i ended up in a mediocre university. it hurts more than a broken heart, trust me. being used to active discussions and analytical essays, having to write "a sentence with one subject and one verb" KILLS bits of my poor, poor soul. yes, i'm cocky, deal with that bitches. i passed IB i have every right in this world to be cocky.

well so uhh, what do i wanna improve ummm. i guess coherence? i always have these ideas popping up in my head during the process of writing, and i HAVE to write them down. hence disturbing my perfectly planned outline.

oh and vocabs too. i'll read the dictionary when i'm bored or something. ish.

okay i'm out of ideas. gotta stop.

byebye

Ohmy.

oh shit, I totally forgot that I have this blog.

Anyway, it's been a FUDGING (I've never been able to throw 'fuck' blatantly, don't judge me) long time since the last time I posted something here. The blog which was meant to be the medium for me to practice my essay writing skills, now has become a place where people, bored people (read: my friends), can write their hearts off WITHOUT gradually losing their grammatical skill over period of time.

In case you're wondering, I'm THIS concerned about my grammatical skill is because, I'm on an 'eternal' holiday right now.

-"Wut?", said the reader(s).

Yea, it's been 5 months since I started this holiday. I'm currently waiting for my UNSW enrollment which is on late February. So that adds up to like, 4 months left for me. And apparently, the sleep-eat-sleep-eat-sleep cycle is just degenerating my brains to the level where I can't even spot relatively intermediate grammar errors in my 'friend''s blog.

Hence, I decided to dig up this blog (again) and resume from where I had left before.

P.S. : I got a 6(/7) for my English A2 in IB. TEEHEE.

Why did I do this again???

I'll start with the explanation of the purpose of this blog. *ridiculously boring intro, shitty-me*

You see, I live in Indonesia. No one speaks english here, yet im taking IB shit for only-God-knows-why. I just moved from english B to A2, which i thought was a good thing since it's like a promotion. BUT I WAS WRONG. DEAD WRONG. With my mediocre or below-average skill of writing, i barely survive the exams and projects. I got 6, or 5, or FOUR sometimes in my essay assessments. Fook.

Apparently my teacher is so concerned about his mentally-retarded student who got 4 for his predicted grade, that he recommended me to read a lot of books and write a lot of essays for practice.

Now that the final IB exam is only 3 months away, im practically doomed if i bluntly take the A2 exams without any preparations. Soooo, my 'dear' friends told me to make a blog as a form of simple-practice which i can do everyday without any pressure of getting 4 or 5.

So basically im gonna write anything i want here, and your job as the reader is to correct my grammars and give me advices how to improve my writing skills.

TEEHEE :))

P.S. : thanks for cheezy for the concept of this blog :D