I'm Sorry, Captain

It took exactly three nights to get over it.
Not completely moved on, but at least it feels easier now.

Vicky Amin presents

I will never stop saying this before I start talking about Liverpool: I’m not the biggest fan. It’s not like I always watch every single game, keep up to every single updates. No. But at least I’m not a fake one. I know the players, I know the theme song, but most importantly I didn’t turn my back when the squad was down on their knees. And I’m not that kind of fan when people ask who my favorite player in Liverpool is, and I expectedly answer “Steven Gerrard.”

Well.

Steven Gerrard is, and will always be—in default, the favorite player of any Liverpudlian all over the globe. I’ve known him long ago, when I was still loving Milan, and he played for Liverpool already. Then I turned to support for The Reds in 2010. Ups and downs, with swifts in managers and legends started departing, leaving Gerrard the only classic Liverpool key left behind. But still no matter what happened, he got a good grip of the whole team, and served the most entertaining performances for the supporters.

Honestly, after Carragher left and Gerrard became the last player of Liverpool squad playing in Istanbul 2005, I’ve been having this instinct that our captain will be leaving in no time. Could be because he’s retiring, or because he’s just tired of Liverpool, or he gets amazing offers from other clubs—could literally be anything, I don’t know what, but the thing is, he’ll eventually leave.

I’m actually okay with that. With him leaving. He’s been beyond loyal to Liverpool and his devotion to the club is not questioned. It's hard, but totally tolerable. What hurt me bad was, his last two games.

Gerrard’s final match at Anfield two weeks ago was considered as the closure of his career with Liverpool. Of course, it’s a home game. The celebration was touching, the drama was epic, what went wrong was only the fact that Liverpool lost. But I was fine with that. At least he’s got his supporters for that, so either win or lose, he’d leave Anfield with endless salute. Plus, he’s still got his true one last game a week after so... There was still a chance to close his Liverpool story with nice ending.

But then, you know what happened.
Liverpool lost, big time—it’s like, raped.

After the game ended, I was just there, sitting in front of my laptop throughout a slowly-creeping, endless and quiet 15 minutes, doing nothing. Nothing but to think how is it like to be Gerrard right now.

Well I cried, honestly and I don't think I have to hide it. I cried, dramatically. When all 6 goals flashed behind Mignolet's back, when Charlie Adam celebrated over his goal to his ex-team, when Gerrard scored his last goal in Premier League ever. But of course my worse tear fell when the final whistle blew. When Gerrard clapped to honor his surroundings like a true legend, while everybody else was mocking him and his horrible last day in Liverpool.

I cried.

How could such thing happened to a legend that big?

If I were one of Liverpool players. I couldn't apologize myself for letting my captain down. But now what am I? Just a fan who sometimes watch the game, sometimes not, sometimes I feel like I’m the one who care most about the team, sometimes I don’t even give a fuck…

So all I can do is just to write this pity note.

Stating how sorry I am for the tragedy, and wholeheartedly wishing you, my beloved Captain Steven Gerrard, to have a better career ahead in the United States.

I regret that I don’t have a jersey with your name on it.
I regret I didn’t watch you when you were in Indonesia.
Speaking for all the fan who feels the same,

I’m sorry, Captain.

Hopes On

Remember my new goal for the rest of this year?

Sure you do, it's openly stated throughout my previous post.

And can you guess why I'm bringing this up now? Well, yea, because I just began accomplishing little by little, my dream of fully discovering my mother country Indonesia. It's within the hometown. But way off shore. Yes, what else but the Thousand Island.

It was a sudden call. First long weekend of May, and my initial plan was to go to Singapore. But one thing lead to another, mission to the land of lion then was aborted. On Wednesday. And I was like, fuck it--my first long weekend after started working, and I'm not going anywhere.

But God knows that this ambitious creature He created 23 years ago is, purely ambitious. So He lighted up the way, cleared up my pissed-off mind, and summoned me a calling straight from a striking island I never even heard before.

Harapan Island.

I didn't expect this view, really.

I joined an open trip. Alone, of course, as usual. And guess what. I booked my spot only two days before the departure. My whole family was like, what the hell--how could you switch destination so fast? I know I was being too selfish but hey, it's my ambition we're talking about. So off I went to the island, on Saturday morning.

Well to be honest, I took this trip for granted. I mean, what's so good about it, it's still Jakarta. Compared to Bali, Gili or worse yet, Bangka, I was pretty sure that other beaches I have been to were way better than this one. So why did you go there, a$$hole? Well I haven't been to Thousand Island before, and this could be my chance, remembering that I don't always have long weekends so I booked the tour, got on the boat, sailed 2.5 hours and...

Got my ass blown away.

I didn't believe what I saw. Crystal blue water, with yum fishes above my feet. Fresh ocean breeze lingered my way down from the boat, still mesmerized, and hypnotized me to walk deeper inside the vibrant fishing village inland. Then I started to make fool of myself because I been underestimating Harapan.

First impression rocked, second impression stunned. The tour guide brought me and my newly assembled group of strangers -which I'll tell you more about on the next post- to two snorkeling spots. And to be honest, again, underwater charm on both islands were almost as good as Menjangan's. So I was like, next time, I'll just go here instead of dragging my poor soul all the way up to the northwest of Bali. But still, Menjangan stays on top of my list.

My point is, I just didn't expect the island to be this sick. Well Harapan is like one of the northernmost island of Thousand Island regency so no wonder if it's still damn clean but, still, I didn't expect this to slam me that hard in my face. And it's not just the underwater scene only. The beaches, the island forest, the dock, the village, oh Lord everything! I liked every single thing I saw there and felt much of a grateful because I picked out Harapan as my first experience in Thousand Island, making me super curious about the other mysteries it has in other islands.

Seconds after I arrived at home, I thought I wouldn't suffer my signature post-holiday syndrome I always felt in each of my abroad trip. Well why should I, the trip was still within my hometown.

But then I was all wrong.
It's been a week, and I haven't moved on.

Because apparently, no matter where I travel, no matter how long the trip is, I'll end up sitting there on the verge of my bed, thinking of all the things I did during my wonderful journey, unique people I met, and so on, and so on.

But mostly, thinking about the hope I just saw.
Hope that Indonesia's potentials will roar in no time.
Hope that this trip will ignite me to explore even more.
Hope that in 15 years, I'll finish my world travel and say,

"You're the best trip ever, Indonesia"

Sounds Like a Plan?

First of all, happy May Day.

I know, I’ve been off too long I only posted… ONCE!? HOW COULD I—HOW IS THIS EVEN—okay. I’ve been busy. I got a job, a permanent one -don’t interrupt yet, please, thank you- though that can’t be the sole reason.

This new job is nice, really, but gotta admit that I’m still not yet busy. So I look for many other things to do, SECRET things to do that of course I’ll uncover everything when the time comes. And that’s why I’ve been pretty idle in blogging.

Speaking about my permanent job, well, as every first jobbers have for their first year, I will not get any single day off for the next 450 days. Yeay? Super. And just a sec after I realized that, something struck me right on my heart. I’ll have to give up the most essential part of my life: traveling.

Shit. One whole year, or at least six to nine month, without even at least browse flights to buy ticket? I better make the most of benefits I can enjoy from doing this job, so I’ll always wake up smiling from my beauty sleep. So yeah first of all, the money’s good. Secondly, I’ll get some cute additional gimmicks because this company I’m now working for, it’s big.

And finally, well, this one’s what I like.

I’ll be forced to stay long enough in Indonesia.

Komodo's Kanawa Island, pic belongs to Wikipedia.

Which means, it’s time to explore deeper within my country. Where people from all around the globe travel all the way from their respective boring countries, to my tropical haven getaway, while I’m gone doing some traveling somewhere abroad.

Giving a lot of thoughts about nearby places I can visit in each short weekend, or somewhere further during longer religious holiday, or better yet, doing extreme sneaking trip for long weekends –which there are ridiculously so many long weekends we’ll have in two months, ahh Lord it goosebumps me in each hair of my body! I know it’ll drain out all the money I earn but hey, I work for this.

And that’s why I kept myself busy from doing some other things. Which money I’ll earn, will be actually saved for my future. My side, common future.

Because my real future,
Is definitely from traveling.
Oh I love this scheme

Hello, Ex

You guys probably know about my so-called obsession in football.

Well, I’m a mediocre tho, but I do have a team I’m putting myself on their side: Liverpool. But if you’ve been so loyal to me that you never missed any of my post –which I’m sure none of you have, you knew that I began supporting Liverpool since 2010 right?

Now, do you know what, who, or which one I did support for like, eight, nine years ago? You don’t? Oh—you don’t care? Well you have to, because you’ve read this far you can’t step back.

It was Kaka, and AC Milan.

One big happy pic, taken from here.

The saga began since World Cup Germany 2006. I followed the whole Brazil’s games and Kaka’s performance was pretty entertaining to me. But they tragically lost against France and I dramatically cried upon the heartbreaking moment. WC ended, Italy won, and suddenly AC Milan came to my preference. AC Milan as a whole, not because Kaka was in there. I didn’t even know that Kaka played for Milan. Fate?

Frankly, post Germany 2006 was my very first time got seriously in deep love with –watching– football.

Serie A schedule back then was quiet unbeneficial for me as they mostly played during Italian night time which was super late midnight for me. To catch up with every game, I had to sleep early, set alarm and forced myself to wake up around 1 or 2 AM and watched the TV in the dark – well gotta admit that during my maniac time towards Milan, I was still sleeping with my brothers.

But it was a hell of a great time. I still remember every second of each night I wasted just to watch Milan. Every ups and downs stupid teenager emotions I expressed to myself, and the TV screen. The exact taste of certain chips I always had, plus every single drop of coffee I sipped to keep my eyes opened, yea, I remembered everything. But my adoration for Kaka, that’s what I cherished the most.

Aside his football playing skill, he was an incredible person. Religious, family-oriented, I looked up to him as if he was my very own older brother. But the greatest thing I like the most from him was, his way of living. Way of believing in himself and achieving his dream. Damn I was so freak back then. I never even played good football but I acted like he was my hero for not only the sport, but for all aspects in my life. I was crazy obsessed about him like, oh you wouldn’t believe all the weird things I did back then – which, for the love of God, I’ll never ever tell even to my closest friends.

I even had a magazine about him. Special edition, exclusively talking about him. I enjoyed every single page of it, especially the part when he mentioned that joining Milan had always been his long goal. And to show his grateful for the chance to finally be able to play for his dream team, he said that he wouldn’t ever consider moving out of Milan. Perseverance, and loyalty—could I fall more for him?

Couldn’t.

Because in 2009, he decided to move to Madrid.

This shattering a$$hole pic is from here.

Sounds too much, but it broke my heart. It showed me really clear that there’s no such thing as pure loyalty. Milan wasn’t that bad on that time so, why would he move? I subconsciously began hating him. And deep inside kind of hoping that he couldn’t be as bright as he was, when black-red stripes was still covering his body.

And umm, my honest prayer turned out to be working well eh?

Kaka didn’t make it well in Madrid and deep inside I was like, happy.

It’s been years but I couldn’t seem to move on that much. Even during Brazil 2014, I still felt super satisfied seeing him “struggling to get my attention back”.

But remembering the time I was still deeply in love with him, every ups and downs stupid teenager emotions I expressed to myself and the TV screen while watching him, the taste of grilled-salmon flavored chips I always had during his game, plus every single drop of coffee I sipped to keep my eyes opened while seeing him on pitch, well, I can’t lie, he is a part of me.

Because no matter how stupid and heartbreaking his decision was,

Apparently the things I adored back then from him,

Is getting more relevant to me.

And for that, I still love him.

Thank you, ex-idol.
And happy birthday

22

Have I ever told you that life seems to be made perfectly for me, and my generation?

I was born in 90s and we claimed to have the best timing in the history of human existence. Well, we lived in the era where playing outside was still super relevant, the way of life our parents did their whole childhood and young adulthood. And, technology showed up later on our life, exactly just on time as we started to need it.

That's obvious.

What's not obvious is that, somehow, it's the 1992s, whose lives match perfectly with universe's growth. I came up with this idea, just when I realized that when I turned 22, a super booming song titled 22 came along with me.

Original pic's from here, copy "twenty two" is my personal touch up

The song was technically about someone who's actually older than 22, but feeling like 22 at some point of their lives. It was not about being, nor turning 22, no, but still, it felt like I, and some friends who turned 22 last year, were crazily welcomed by the universe.

And apparently, being 22 was that, crazy.

For literally one whole year, I didn't get a permanent job even once. I only had a 4 months freelance job during the political campaign period, and another 3 months as a substitute copywriter at one local agency. The other 5 months? Well, I was focusing on my book, traveled three times to Bangka, Bali and HK - Macao and, keeping myself busy to enhance my travel writing portfolio.

And oh wow, I drove my parents crazy because of what I did. Especially my father. He obviously freaked out the whole year. Said that I was wasting my time, letting myself several steps behind my friends who started working already, and seriously, many more things -that actually, he was so right about- he worried about.

But hey, I was happy. I got the chance to experience every single thing I doubted and was dying to try for my whole life. My campus slash advertising goal was to become a copywriter. Check. My selfish ego inside of me wanted to work from home. Check. My long-treasured childhood dream was to publish a book, and had my name printed in a magazine. Check, check, and check!!!

Plus, and this was the best thing that happened to me and me as a 22, I WAS COMPLETELY FREE! I didn't really have to start my post-graduate life right away after I finished university, forced myself to work 9 to 5, trapped in traffic and be all whiny about it, no! And it didn't necessarily mean that I had no money at all hoho, keep in mind, missy, that eventho I was staying at home most of the time, money is all available for me to withdraw.

However, everything came with negative sides. Got to admit that during my idle time, I was super confused of what I should do in life. Where to work after I get bored doing nothing like this, what to do to get my ass back to the employment line, la la la. And the worst thing was, the lonely feeling I couldn't deny. Being at home with no actual co-workers for 5 months in total, that was the only thing I didn't want to feel again from this 22 thingy. Oh please don't get me wrong, I was talking about making new friends for professional scope. About my real friends, abroad friends, traveling friends and friends who stayed at my house, that was the other story. I didn't lose my social life, no, pft, come on.

Well compared to the excitement I got, those tiny pains were totally nothing. The sensation of being a guy who didn't rush himself despite all the pushes to start preparing for his future, that was priceless. I may not get the result of that crazy thing I did any time soon, no, but I'm pretty sure that in the future, it'll come back to me. At least the good story will do.

Crazy, huh?

A friend of mine, who's a year older than me, once said that being 22 was the best thing ever happened to her. Moved to Indonesia, started working and had the craziest time of her life. I saw that before my very own eyes; her life and how dynamic it was. It looked super fun, but didn't affect anything to me because, it's her life. I didn't know how amazing it actually was, until I felt it myself.

And it happened.
One crazy hell of a year.

Here's for being eternally 22 :)

In one hour, I'll be 23. I don't know bout you,

But I feel like I'm still going to be 22 for 5 more years.

Oh well, I know 22 looked like bad news, for my parents.

But for me,

It was miserable

And magical