Come and stay, I have piles of stories to share.

Mood:
Sleepwalk by Santo & Johnny Fariana (1959) (click)
Jim James - State Of The Art (A.E. I. O. U.) (click)

So back then when I was turning 23, I realised I've been into this digital age of sharing bits of my thoughts and feelings through the screen for over - let's say - presumably a decade.

I met, lost, and rekindle, with lots of souls throughout the years.
Spent a good amount of ups and downs and ready for more to come.
I fear a lot and worry even more.
I just somehow can't wait to see how I'll develop as a woman,
as a person, as a soul.

I used to take a lot of photos - and I love it.
Even that word 'love' itself is an understatement.
Young Hanna thought that taking pictures means making her own time machine,
no matter how much time passed, people or places change, it preserves the memory - and she found that to be impeccably beautiful.
It's just so happened that knitting words is her second love, a close competitor after taking photos.

Now I'm older and well aware that my memory serves to save, yet there are things that I can't just fumble forever - like conversations, places, memories that would be forgotten, eventually replaced.

So there I was, pinning down words from my head, to papers, through my pen.

Assembling paragraphs from my thoughts, to my screen, through my fingers.

For quite some time I keep everything for myself, archived and hidden.
(the story behind this? I'll get into that later on....probably.)

My head is crowded with threads of thoughts and files of memories.
I want to document my life. I want to see how I develop.
As a woman. As a human. As a soul.
I want to make my tiny time machine, grazed with pictures,
laced with words, sealed with memories and feelings that fizzled into it.

Now everything I'm putting on the screen might be just a mere fraction,
a tiny part of what was, is, and will be going on inside of me,
but nevertheless, I am letting you to take a peek, inviting you in.

Come and stay around, make yourself feel at ease,
I'm starting by putting out some old archives of mine.

-

PS: this particular writing/ramble is dedicated to a really, really close person in my life, who forced me to carry on with it after reading through emails regarding my writings.
Now I'm getting back on my bandwagon,
I'm doing it for me, and I am thanking her for that.

Silent Knocks

These past months I've received few personal messages telling me that I should write more and that my writing has been missed.
First message struck me as something trivial, but the next ones, from each different individuals, started to seep through me.

I've almost forgotten how therapeutic writing has always been for me.

How it enabled me to overcome some of the biggest obstacles and fears I have yet to face.
I remember how I'd genuinely crave to put my thoughts into words, to inject each and every scattered feelings, to feel as if I was about to explode and that I have to write over and over and over and over of how sad or how happy something, or someone would make me feel.
Writing has always been my comfort zone.

I have been busy doing what I thought as 'living my life'.
Perfecting my what I thought would be the guarantee of my happiness, building what I thought would be my safety net, I forgot what exactly makes me happy.

I am aching for safety, stability, security, and any other things that would keep me away from harm. After all I am only human with reasonable amount of fear and insecurities.

But then I've realized that I have been putting aside my happiness.
Trading my passion for stability.
My source of happiness for security.
And worse, my time, the only thing I could never got back, for constant fear of succumbing into a dull, boring adulthood, and soon will be forgotten as my corpse is ageing and my clock is ticking.



There's a saying which goes 'The only thing standing between me and my happiness is reality"
But I refuse to believe in that.
The only thing standing between me and my happiness is not reality, it is me.
I have the control over which reality I am living in.
I have the control of taking and putting and balancing which aspect of my life I want to pursue more, or most.
I have almost forgotten that what other people might seen as reality is not the reality I, myself, have to live in.

This is me, getting things out of my chest.
This is me, savouring the comfort writing has always been giving me.

If you read this, let me know.

I have been claiming that I have a quarter life crisis.

It is way too early to declare such thing
(make it 3 years too early to be precise)

But it’s easier to call it that way.

One day I could be feeling all fine and breezy.

Like life is good.

Life is a continuum growing process.

Life is full of surprises.

Then on another different time, I’d be feeling weary and dull.

Like everything’s pointless.

Like everything doesn’t have any particular meaning.

I’m not even sure what this feeling is all about.

Most days I’d brush it aside, let is pass and slide away.

Some days I just feel like curling up inside my blanket and form myself into a gigantic burrito.

I have ideas and plans.

Chances and opportunities.
But none of it feels substantial enough for me,
as if they're mere plans with no particular meaning nor reason-to-be.

I’m still figuring it all out,
or so they say.

I have all the time in the universe to figure it all out,

or so I keep telling myself.

I feel like I’m missing something.

I wander and wonder, like it has always been.

Avoiding and hiding.

Searching and absorbing.

Questioning and observing.

Nothing fulfils my numbness nor this voidness in me.

I know I’m craving home.

A home that mutually supports my ideas and dreams.

A home that protects me from my fear.

A home where I can celebrate my progress.
A home with whom I can share a mutual understandings regarding each other's emotional and intellectual being.

A home where I can go back to,
feeling safe and genuinely, alive.

Sometimes I’m tired of wandering and wondering.

But I am nothing close to giving it all up.
That kind of tired where you just feel like going back for a bit and rest.

Recharge your emotional being before you’re ready to conquer whatever it is in your way.

I’m always up to see myself growing and learning.

But it would be nice if only I know that I have a home a can go back to.

Problem is, either I haven't found one, or I let it pass by, or, I don't know.
Really.

I don't know.

Dear home,
Have we, by fate, happen to encountered each other?
Have I, by chance, missed you on my route of finding myself?
Have you, by choice, decided keep it all quite, not to tell me that we could be each other's home?

Dear home, if you're reading this and share my sentiment,
please,
let me know.

First blabber this year

I went through a major blogposts purge back then in 2012 and I promised myself to write more.
Apparently, that didn't work quite well.

Originally this was supposed to be an outlet for me to keep track of myself, so I have something I can reminisce and look back for, sort of a public diary, you can say.

But then again, having several written  journals and social medias where I can freely let my thoughts rumble, this old baby, has once again been neglected.

I remember telling my friends who — thankfully, happen to be my loyal readers (whoa fancy) that I still write, a lot, but it has been slightly modified to a -beta- version, where it is even more publicly accessible — less personal, more relatable, here.
(I remember I posted something about making that account somewhere earlier this year, and whoa it has almost been a year)

I play a lot with metaphors, so naturally, there should be hidden stories & message here and there.
Have fun figuring them out.


Talking about message, this collection from Liaison de Parfum is a major heartthrob.
Imagine giving someone a message in the form of a perfume. 
Although you need to at least buy 2 of them to form a solid sentence, which means knocking 250€ off of your bank.


Done with the intermezzo.
So, shall we go, 2015?

Let me start with a confession here, I've stopped making new year resolution, since, I don't exactly know when.

I remember back then when things where easy peasy, my goals were merely:
1. Learn how to ride a bike 
2. Go to more concerts.
You know what, I'm in my early 20s and I still need an additional safety wheel to ride a bike — which explains why you'd never see me ride any.

I personally think new year resolutions are bullshits.
You get excited for the very first few months — weeks, if you're being honest to yourself,
then everything will start deteriorating and you realise that some shits were bound to happen,
accept fate, face whatever it is that may come in your way,
because you can always have next year for another resolutions, right?
Right? No.

So instead of making yearly resolutions, I'm sticking with my actual long-term goals
(whoa, didn't realise putting both 'long-term' and 'goals' in the same sentence made me feel like a #BOSSLADY)
By deciding which one can be executed first, postponed, improved, even collaborated, I have not been stuck with a '365/6 days time limit'.
While slowly nailing them one by one, I have basically been expanding my goals.

So in short, the distance gets further, the goals get bigger.
I still have a looooo—oolong way there,
but it's fine, it's fun.
Yes, my laptop just decided to auto-corrected the exaggerated 'long' into 'oolong' — the tea,
and I'm too lazy to even go back and fix it so here I am explaining it.

And well, you do realise you need a Yin to your every Yang, right?
So here is how it goes, on the back of one of my journal, I have special spot where I write everything good in it.
No goals, no ambitions, just pure gratefulness.
I remember, some of the lines went as simple (read: stupid) as
'Today the kebab cook gave me a free soda again' or
'I finally found my summer fling, it's a perfume, it's Carven EDT, I'm rocking it forever'— which is a lie,
this winter I'm slowly pushing it to the back of my shelve because apparently, a fling is a fling
— and a bundle of fresh floral notes won't suffice in this colder weather, something heavier is needed.

But hey, you got my point, no?
These whole long-term goals & grateful notes might sound absurd to most of you — but they've been working pretty well for me.

So, anyway, happy 2015 beautiful earth inhabitants.
Please be happy and be awesome,

Much love,
Me.

The Ocean

I am the ocean.

You are fascinated by my depth and emptiness, 
but you are too afraid to plunge in deep to learn more about me. 

You float in the shallows and say you love my salty tears, 
you love my waves, 
you love the beautiful shells I churn out. 

You are aware there are monsters deep within me,
but you make no attempt to try and find them; 
you make no attempt to see them face-to-face. 

You are happy in your ignorance, 
and I wrap myself around you 
as you frolic in the beauty you see at my surface
and ignore the horrors you know are there. 

I kiss you like I kiss the shoreline,
pulling away 
but always rushing back.

You ignore the fact 
that I swallow the light every night, 
and I am controlled by the ever-changing moon. 

You do not know everything about me, 
but maybe that’s for the best. 

Knowledge would not be power in this case; 
knowledge would suck you into inky depths of my madness 
and cause you to drown. 

I am the ocean and you are simply a tourist; 
you are not an explorer. 
I do not blame you for this one bit.

— 
I credit this guy right here who found and showed me that beautiful piece - telling me that it reminds him of me.
—

That reminds me the last time I went to the beach was 2 years ago.
I'm adding it on my summer to-do list, then.

Warm Winter

Quite some time had passed since New Year holiday.
My initial plan for those two weeks off, was either to hibernate & have a movie marathon or do house chores & finish up some assignments.
By the end of the day I realised none of those plans actually made their way up to my realistic realm. 

But that's okay, I guess.

Yesterday my friends and I finished our first short movie for another Personal Development & Working Methodology class.

In case you're wondering, yes, I am still enrolled in marketing course and don't have any plan in revoking it anytime soon.
This is probably one of very few (if not only) class that does not involve numbers, international laws, marketing strategy or the psychology of consumerism.
But don't get me wrong, I love them all equally, but this class is pretty chill & I'd love to make the best out of it — by doing something fun.

Having said so, we actually did have fun and I am quite pleased with the result so far.
Right now before jumping on other classes' assignments (that seem to start piling up), I may just take some time to actually chill and enjoy my hot cocoa.
Besides, what screams winter better than a cup of cocoa filled with fluffy marshmallow?



On the other hand, quite a while ago I realised I forgot my old Formspring account's password which apparently has changed to this spring.me and so, I made this instead.
See you later alligators?

The unlikely settlement of brain and heart — hidden epilogue

So this got me somehow completely dumbfounded because never once in my life I thought I would get to this point.
But hey, wow, I actually do.

I never exactly count or know long has it been.
A year?
More than a year?
Years?
I'm not even sure.

All I know that it sure does take me quite some time to finally let the thoughts sunk in. 

If you give your everything to someone and it's still not enough, you're probably giving it to the wrong person.

So this is me bidding adieu,

Goodbye.

Pas Volé, Mais Perdu

Paris 10th arr, few minutes past midnight. 

My friend and I finished our dinner after few glasses of fermented grapes, 
a cup of tea recommended by our overly friendly waiter, 
and 40 minutes spent waiting for our desserts, 
which I assume were made by order and not some ready-to-serve sweets. 

Everything about our meal was nice except my side dish.
Maybe pumpkin cream pie with orange zest just was not for me.

At the station, I bid her adieu and took a left turn to the aisle where metro line 4 is. 
Metro station performers are always interesting. 
My favourite ones are those groups of tiny orchestras that sell CD format of their performance and those accordion men who often (if not always) play french clichés such La Vie en Rose or La Valse d'Amelie.

But my soundtrack that night was a lady, singing Ave Maria with no instruments, stood beside piles of dull bags. 
The station wasn't crowded nor empty, but her high-pitched voice added a blend of eeriness, echoing through the walls as I kept walking. 

I saw those with tired faces, 
those cuddly lovebirds, 
those travellers who took inconvenient time just to get better ticket fares, 
or even those who were just on their way back home, observing people like I did.

I wished you were there to see what I was seeing & 
I wished you were there, 
literally and figuratively.

Because there are way too many things I'd like to share with you. 

From countless of trivial unimportant stuffs, 
to personal secret thoughts. 

That tender feeling of being connected through words,
like morse codes invented and used only by us.

Where did it go?
Stolen by reality?
Lost in between memories?

It's even harder for me, because I know you're not there,
and yet you're everywhere.

In photographs and in songs.
In books and in films.
In certain conversations and certain scent.
And every time I stumbled across all of those thing,
I was reminded of the agony that you're no longer there.

And as the metro stopped from one station to another,
I was getting more and more overwhelmed by the bitterness of all the possibilities we've lost — and all that we couldn't ever have.

You see,
missing you is not about how long has it been since the last time we saw each other.
It's about that very moment I found myself doing something and wishing that you were there, 

in my life.

So many songs, movies, books, discussions, laughters, inside jokes, secret thoughts and feelings I'd like us to share.

So many more memories I'd like us to create, 
and even so many future-tenses I would add to our life,

Because once, you made me feel as if we were made for each other.

Flying under the radar

The weather is getting colder by days and the idea of wrapping myself with my comforter sounds better than waking up to a freezing weather and do my errands.
Seems like I've been slacking off quite a lot lately, partly true and partly faux.

Yes, the weather, the moods, and the thoughts might contribute a lot in my procrastination, but yes, I also been doing things that I might find either not that necessary (or that interesting) to be shared.
But I wouldn't mind sharing a glimpse of my life with you through some of these photos.

All of these photos are school / life related stuffs I've been doing lately. I love taking photos and the idea of keeping memories alive through them still appeal to me as much as it has always been, but maybe I just need to find another medium to express myself for the moment.

Not sure yet, perhaps cooking lesson? Making vlogs? Learning how to play guitar? Any suggestion? But one thing for sure, my ultimate list to be checked-off this year is learning how to ride a bike, lame I know.

Have you got yourself a to-do-list for 2013? Maybe I could take one or two inspirations from yours?

Anyway, my facebook has been dead for quite a while, but I still thoroughly enjoy using my blog, so here I am, updating, writing, uploading pictures. Also, I just made a music blog / online radio here : www.8tracks.com/hannatheodora and I'm still tweeting here.

In the meantime, I would really need some supports and words of encouragements as I'm planning to take my life one step forward (I hope that doesn't make me sound like an insurance commercial).

Toodles, lovelies!

Either way, I'm still here

I looked back at the pictures I've transferred from my camera to my laptop, then realizing quite a long time has passed since the first Olimpiade PPI Prancis.

I was slightly skeptical before, since it was the holiday season and most of Indonesian students who were studying in France had flew back home.

The event occurred in Ecole des Mines Nantes. The weather was chilly but since the event was held indoor, everything went smoothly.

(A fella's first time eating Lemper. He almost ate it all with the leaves)

After lunch break, we've got to meet two very special guesses.
Representatives of Indonesian Embassy came all the way from Paris to Nantes, Mr Rezlan Ishar Jenie and Mr Syafsir Akhlus.
Seems like age gap didn't matter, the came dressed in sport attires and joined the boys during the game.

It ended up pretty good. Really good I should say.
I can't believe I'd say this since I'm not keen on sport at all (in fact, I hate sport) but I guess, sport unites people?
Yes? No?

 Don't give me that look, I know I didn't even participate in any games, but.....yay to sport?

At the end of the day, our stomaches were grumbling and we decided to have kebab and fries for dinner.
 Mr Rezlan and Mr Syafsir stayed to share dinner time with us. 
The chilly weather didn't bother us, not even a bit (perhaps except me, my hands were freezing) and as the sun set and sky was getting darker, we enjoyed our dinner to the sound of acoustic guitar while singing tacky, cheesy songs. Nevertheless it was fun.

After we finished our dinner, the two gentlemen had some chit-chat with us, shared some encouragements, wise words, and told us funny jokes too.
 That day was awesome, I'm looking forward to the 2nd, 3rd, and more Olimpiade PPI Prancis!

On the other note,  I know I shouldn't nag about this again but summer supposed to be sunny and all but instead we get rainy days and chilly weather here. Boo hoo.

Le Bon Coin

Based on my previous entry, you might guess that currently I'm not living in Jakarta anymore. 

Some people know that I had been taking french course for quite a while, 

but I guess my decision to move here in early May sounds a bit sudden.

I preferred to keep the news under the radar just few days before my departure. 

Only few of my closest ones knew already, 

though I feel kinda guilty when I received tons of messages and calls,

asking me why I didn't tell them earlier.

That day I was really nervous.

I've never been so far from my family before. 

So I've no idea how my life would be once I got there.

And I might sound like a sore loser, 

but before I came here I didn't know how to apply for bank account, life and health insurance, monthly transportation ticket, basic house chores, and other basic stuffs that I didn't bother to worry about back then in my home.

And about living alone? Guess I underestimated it way too much. 

Having the obligation to take care of myself in a country far, far away from my home is way harder than I thought. 

Don't get me started with the weather. 

Coming here in Spring/Summer time, I thought I'd be fine with jeans and t-shirts, 

but on the contrary, I need to stuff my shopping list with coats and jackets.

 It's been cold, rainy, and pretty much windy through the weeks.

Talking about the citizens? Screw stereotypes. 

I think it's safe for me to say that people here are (mostly) really, really, really nice. 

I think in every part of the world there will always be annoying arseholes and ignorant people,

so stereotyping people solely based on your personal experience and comparing their culture with your own culture is obviously not fair. 

But even so, I sometimes still miss Indonesia's hospitality and food. 

They sure have lovely selections of food here, as french is known for their gastronomy varieties. 

But nothing beats the ones we had where we grew up in, right?

It still feels kinda weird, but in a good way, you know?

Somehow it feels like I'm starting my life all over again here. 

New places, new faces, new personalities, everything's new.

I stayed in Paris for quite a while and left some of my stuffs there before I moved to Nantes.

Been settling myself down, doing this and that. 

I know this sounds incredibly cheesy and maybe slightly, too early? 

But I think I'm starting to fall in love with this city. 

I don't know if that's even possible, but I think it does.

(PS: Sorry for random photos of me, or other things, I put here and there in this post. I left my camera in my friend's house, for all of this pictures, the credit goes to Grace. Thanks for letting me using them!)

So, hello again, I suppose?

I didn't realize how long has it passed since I swore to myself that I won't neglect this blog. 
I know this sounds rather awkward but, let's just start with quoting a famous sentence by C.S. Lewis ;

"Isn't it funny how day by day nothing changes, but when you look back everything's different?"

When I first read that, I thought, well, that's kinda funny.

And so very true.

You know, 
when some days you feel so lost like every other person in this world just don't get your situation, 
or as if you barely know them. 

As if you're not really living, 
you're just passing time, 
without knowing what are you really doing.

Some days in life when you feel like you're in a deep shit and nothing's ever going to change.

They say, it's okay to look back and visit the past, 
but be very, 
very careful, not to live in it.

Those weren't even something that I wished ever happened to me.
But maybe I was just tired of everything. 

Tired of my surroundings. 
Tired of being unhappy. 
Tired of seeing people that I thought would be there,
walked away one by one.

I didn't know what or where should I start fixing it. 
Because too much things happened and they were too overwhelming. 

So I started with myself. 
Because that was it, nothing left. 
Because I choose to be happy, 
and I know I deserve to. 

I haven't made any post for quite a while so, here you go, a long one

I promised to feed this blog more and yet here I am, neglecting it for months.

I'm currently still a little bit overwhelmed with university preparation, future accommodation and papers, but I guess updating one or two stories won't hurt.

#1. My 6 month baby Lotso is sleeping. Quite massive, isn't he?
#2. Jakarta is getting pretty windy and chilly lately, and my lips are even more chapped than ever. Been using Burt's Bees for months, it helps hydrating my lips much better than other lipbalms. Before I use this acai berry flavour, I used the mango one, both smell yummy.
#3. Some CD collections in my course place. Awezumness.




#4. Pizza e Birra's Panna Cotta, indulging myself in one fine afternoon with some highschool mates.
#5. Spending weekend, watching Paranormal Activity 3 & had some japanese fast-food from left to right chicken curry, dory katsu, beef teriyaki or tepanyaki, I'm not quite sure what it was. 
#6. Golden Egg Tart's Portuguese egg tart.

I went out with some friends to 10 years anniversary of Ada Apa Dengan Cinta but we ran out of tickets. Then one of my friend said not far from that place we can find loads of vintage/secondhand/rare books, CDs, and vinyls. We thought that was interesting, so we decided to gave it a go rather than heading home with disappointment.

I got this two antique french novels in a tiny shop owned by Pak Djo. It was originally 30k for each book, but after some bargaining in french, I got two of these for only 45k. 

Did I mention bargaining in french?

It was already pleasantly surprising when we told Pak Djo we were looking for something good to read, he suddenly pulled out a classic Shakespeare's Hamlet from the shelf. 

Him & his friend were really friendly. As we were looking for the book, he helped us with some references. 

Suddenly my friend said I'm currently learning french, he suddenly asked "Parlez vous francais?". 

And the conversation (including the bargaining, of course) went on in french.

His friend, another bookshop owner, who was sitting beside him told us that Mr Djo used to work in France.

Now that's what I call, really, interesting.

And oh, my friend also got a classic Jane Eyre novel (from around 1960s) for 30k, again, in his shop.

I mean, where can I find a humble vintage/secondhand book shop owner who speak french and has great book collections? 

Would definitely come and have my second visit later on.

Le Printemps

Nikicio fashion show was a breathe of fresh air, since it was held few days after my hectic week.

 

I adore almost everything about the collection. 

Key points? Simplicity, sharp cuts, a twist of prints and textures. 

I also met some of my buddies there, mind to say hi?

 

Food Tasting Panel

I got an invitation for food tasting panel at Sushi Groove, one of Ismaya's well known project. They're planning on putting up something new on their menus.
So, shall we start?

While waiting for another food-tasters, my friend and I were served both hot and cold ocha. I opted for a cold one.

First came  Sapporo Chicken Roll.

I ate at Sushi Groove several times before and that kinda reminded me of Mayonaise Dream Roll. Since the chef was standing behind us to give us further informations about these menus, I asked him and I was right, they're using the same kind of mayonnaise for both menu (Mayonaise Dream Roll & Saboro Chicken). Tasted okay and was in perfect bite size.

Second came Shibuya Roll. Just a perfect combination of unagi (eel), salmon, nori (seaweed), fried shrimp, and veggies combined with mayo sauce. It was close to perfection until it started to fell apart when you want to bite them. The size was too enormous and wasn't practical for sushi-type of meal. Although the taste was simply delicious.

Third came Mango Megumi.

This was my absolute favourite. A plate full of lovely, lovely surprise. They put a twist of mango just in the right measurement. And plus, I'm a big fan of tobiko (fish's eggs). Those plates really spoiled my tastebuds to the core. Further surprise, soft squared cream cheese, yum!

So here we got Pirates Roll, a fusion sushi with smoked beef on the top, spicy and tastes just okay for my liking. Creative,  but they'd better stay as separate menus. The taste of smoked beef and the rolls sadly don't blend well together. 

Below, it's Aligator Roll. I'm a total sucker for avocado and they put loads thinly sliced avocado on the top of the roll, resembling a crocodile. It was delish and came in a perfect bite size.

The last roll I ate was Salmon Mentai. I was curious since it was served a little bit different than the usual Salmon Mentai I ate in another Japanese restaurants. 

Overall, most of the menus were bloody-lickin-good, delicious to say the least. Hoping to see some of them in Sushi Groove's latest menu in mid May this year. Thankyou for the opportunity, Sushi Groove and Ismaya. It was a lovely night!