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How To Maintain Good Grades

My 3rd semester grades

Alhamdulillah. Thank God i've passed three semesters in college and so far, i've nailed it. Many of my friends asked me "How do you maintain your grades?"

Well, i work my ass off. Very very hard, constantly and consistently. And i pray. I'm not being such a smug or arrogant, but the only thing that makes you having bad grades is laziness. Stop calling yourself 'stupid'. Cause you're just being lazy. I don't call myself 'smart', but i'm definitely NOT a lazy person. That's my secret.

What if you're already a lazy person? Well, push your limit. Force yourself. Don't you ever pity yourself, cause i'm being cruel and ruthless to myself. And by that, gratefully, i've got pretty good grades.

So, if you wanna be able to maintain good grades, start doing these things :

1. Work your ass off very very hard, constantly and consistently.
This means you have to study as hard as you can, read books as many as you can to extend your sources, and start googling a lot. Thank God for Google.

2. Stop being lazy.
Do ALL your assignments and have full attendances. This really really matters to your grades. Stay healthy and happy to boost and keep your mood so you could attend all of your classes.

3. Don't pity yourself.
There's a time when you're losing the mood, feeling tired and bored. Well, push your limit. Force yourself. You won't die by going to college and doing assignments, right? And when you're not feeling so well, try to spark and encourage yourself. Treat yourself well by watching movies or eating good food after class or on weekends.

4. Behave. Don't do things that make your lecturers dislike you. No matter how smart you are, if you piss 'em off, trust me.. Your grades would be falling down. So, start making your lecturers feeling comfortable and by that, they would like you and give you good grades in return.

5. Pray.
I don't know if it works to certain people, but to me, it does. Praying makes me feeling calm, relax, worry less, and it really boosts my self-confidence. It makes me think that everything's gonna be just fine. Cause if you believe in God, i don't think your efforts would work perfectly if you don't pray. But life is all about choices, right?

Highway 19

Today, i've offically lived for about 6935 days. So, let's say 7000 days of being a human. Yes. It's my 19th birthday. And actually it doesn't really matter, not even to me.

As usual, i refuse to have cakes, sing happy birthday, throw a party, or any other bullshit. Honestly, i only need best wishes. I really do. Cause i think that's what matters most to me. Cakes, singings, and parties are nothing but a waste of time, energy, and money.

Birthday is just a benchmark that you've reached a certain number of age. Celebrating a birthday by being grateful is a must. But doing some useless shit? I don't think it's necessary.

To me, life is such a highway. We were born to pass it. Sometimes you drive at full speed, and enjoy the adrenaline. Sometimes you crash and burn. The strong ones will recover and continue, the weak ones will surrender and get a shortcut by hanging themselves, cutting wrists, self-poisoning, or any other shortcuts.

I've been in a thin line between being the strong one and the weak one. At least, i've considered to get a shortcut. But luckily, i soon realized that i was born to be the strong one. I was meant to pass the highway. I might have crashed and burned, but there's a bright light ahead and i believe i can reach it and enjoy passing the highway.

Birthdays are just number on the highway signs, so you can know your progress. And the mystery is, you won't know at which number your highway ends. Well, this year, i've reached number 19. And i wish there are many numbers ahead and i could enjoy passing the highway with always being happy and healthy. And i have a specific wish for this birthday. I wish i could finish what i've started. Aamiin.

Wish me the best ones :)

Birthday present? Alhamdulillah, i've earned this :

Pretty good self-earned birthday present, isn't it? ;)

Insomniac Thoughts

I've never had trouble to fall asleep. No matter how much coffee i drink in a day, i'm kinda able to control when i'm gonna 'knock' myself out into the state of unconsciousness. But not for the last two months. I think for the first time in my life, i've become insomniac. I remember watching my favorite movie Fight Club when The Narrator couldn't sleep for days and woke up in strange places. Well, luckily i haven't reached that phase, but still, it sucks.

I've reduced my daily coffee intake and it doesn't work. I feel extremely tired but all i can do is laying on the bed with so much thoughts. Yes, thoughts. Specific thoughts. And it feels like it's killing me. Like a cancer, spreading all over my mind and slowly paralyzing my ability to fall asleep. You might think i'm being pathetically redundant, but those thoughts are specifically about her. The main reason this blog exists since 2013.

After almost a year since we 'broke up' and i tried to move on (and failed) cause i felt that my efforts didn't work so well. Everything might happen for a reason, and maybe somehow i cannot move on from her for a reason which is still unknown. The insomnia started when i reached a mental condition which i think that i literally cannot live without her. I started thinking that i'd be better off dead than living without her. And it's probably been triggered by how much i truly miss her. I wouldn't be denial, so i tried to rebuild the relationship by making an anonymous Twitter account cause i don't want to be bothered by my friends. I wanna have this relationship personally with her without involving any of my friends. So i keep my identity classified, but i let her know that it's me by mentioning her things that are only known by us.

Day by day, week by week, my mentions doesn't seem affect her. I believe her Twitter account is being supervised by her 'institution'. But i really really miss her and there's nothing i can do. She is super exclusive and commercialized. And i cannot and will not get back into that 'world of delusion' anymore. I was a 'single fighter' and i'm no longer feeling comfortable with the situation; the fans and the staff, they're not friendly. You know what i'm talking about.

I've been up all night, thinking about her and wanna meet her so bad cause, like i've said a thousand times, i miss her so bad. So i'm considering a plan to visit her house. I began a little investigation, and by lots of online sources and Google Street View, i've found her address. Thank God for the internet. But i'm still confused. Should i really do it? Visit her house and give some gifts to her and the family. By that, i hope maybe i could talk to her and get to know each other personally and intensely without regarding the commercial aspects and the 'institution'.

I'm desperately frustrated. I wanna know each other as a boy and a girl in a 'real life' but it seems impossible for now. Maybe it's not the right time for both of us, but i wish someday we could meet as a man and a woman who would become lovers, and i believe soon the day will come.

Dear God, you might not let me be with her right now, but please, at least let me fall asleep peacefully tonight like i used to. Aamiin. 

A Homeless Broken Home Boy

Imagine, you're sleeping peacefully and suddenly your house is being destroyed by some strangers. The ceiling is falling down onto your sight, the roof is falling apart, and the wrecking balls are haunting you down in the middle of your crumbling house. It's too hard to dodge. You got no place to hide. Nothing to hold on to. Then you realized. Your parents cooperate with those strangers in demolishing the house that you're sleeping in. Well, it's a pretty fucked-up situation.

If i was asked to define 'being a broken home boy', that's my definition. And when you're grown up, you'd reach that moment. The moment when you're feeling totally homeless. You'd feel that you got no home and no family to come home to. I mean a real natural home, a real natural family. A home and a family without awkwardness, without unnatural process called adaptation with strangers AKA step-parents.

I lost the feeling of having home when i was 11 years old. Only about 6 months after my parents got divorced, those strangers officially became my step-mom and step-dad. It was a whole new stage of my life. I'd never thought i'd have step-parents. Especially an emotionally sensitive step-mom. I was supposed to be the one who's been taken care of by her. But it turned out i was the one who had to take care of her feelings.

My step-mom (the first one. Well, i've got the new one lately) was a childish, extremely emotional, insecure woman. She made my dad angry at me cause he thought that i wouldn't socialize and interact with her. What did she expect from me at that time? I was just an 11 year-old boy who's got mentally shocked by that unexpected situation.

She also got jealous on everything. She was jealous of my mom, which is pretty normal. And she was jealous of me everytime i was spending time with my dad. It was an abnormal jealousy, for sure. So, there was a time when i had to spend less time with my dad, for the sake of her feelings. And my mom? Well, i didn't live with her and she was busy taking care of my step-sister (whom i truly love very much).

No wonder, most of the broken homes end-up doing drugs or commiting suicide. The others and me, end-up feeling homeless. I'm grateful that i have a place to live, but it doesn't feel like home. It doesn't feel like a place where you can do everything without being (emotionally) bothered by strangers. So, i isolate myself and spend most of my time alone in my room. Luckily, i'm still alive, haven't lost my mind and haven't cutted my wrist or hanged myself to death. That's what should be concerned by parents.

My dad got divorced for the second time after being abandoned by my (second) step-mom for three years. It was a really hard time for him. At that time i started going to college and lived at my grandma's. He was living those three years alone, and i could only visited him twice a month because of the college and my band stuff. Fortunately, he got married for the third time with a kind-hearted woman who became my second step-mom. And i feel very happy for them cause they're expecting their first child. It means i'll have another step-sister/brother :)

My mom's second marriage was better than my dad's second marriage. Eventhough it went to a divorce as well. I had no problems with my step-dad and i was kinda sad to say goodbye to him. He was a good dad to my step-sister, and a good step-dad to me. The saddest part was knowing the fact that my step-sister has become a broken home just like i am. I really wish she would be okay all the time and never feel what i feel. I wish she won't be feeling homeless.

Right now my mom is on her way finding her new soulmate. Third soulmate. I told her to really consider my step-sister in deciding a new husband. I won't let my step-sister get mentally hurted by witnessing her parents having a new life with their new partners. I promise myself that i will take control if something bad happens to her.

It's such a pathetic thing when you realize that your parents got married three times and you witnessed it as their child. It makes me kinda feeling commitment-phobic. I'm not sure, but maybe, it's the reason why i remain single after the breakup with my ex a few years back then. Consciously, i'd say that i'm selective in dating, so i'd wait for the one that i've been waiting for. Unconsciously, i'd say that i'm being paranoid and traumatic after two times witnessing the death of my parents's marriage.

But the positive thing is, i learned a lot about marriage. And it made me promise myself that if i get married someday, i will defend my marriage from getting ruined and i will never let anything that makes my future children become broken homes, except God and death.

The Weather of Soul

Raining, raining, and raining. I find peace in rain and kinda enjoy it, regarding of my prayer in the last summer. I wished the summer would end ASAP, and i wished for the rain. Well i guess this is the answer of my prayer; I got cold, my laundry won't dry, and the house is getting more like a prison as the rain comes.

I remember those days when i was getting fed-up with sunlight, hot weather, and sweats. I started hating summer. The thirst, the anger, the heat. Those things made me nuts. I got very emotional in the summer and i felt like i wanted to scream the shit outta myself and go mad.

I always like having hot coffee, and it didn't feel right in the summer. I tried it a couple times and the result was always the same. I got hotter, covered in sweats, and ended-up listening to Slipknot's 'People = Shit' on repeat.

Summer always feels annoying to me. It's like getting burned alive while tied by sharp strings of anger. I got sensitive. Although i'm pretty good at controlling temper, but still, i'm the wrong guy to mess up with in the summer. Trust me, you'll regret it. I know damn well how to mentally hurt some douche.

One day, i woke up at 2:00 AM and it was raining. I knew it was the time to say goodbye to summer. I went out while my whole family was sleeping. I sat on the porch, trying to enjoy the moment i've been praying for. I let my face got gently splashed by the rain sparks. I let my whole body, mind, and soul got blown by the peaceful breeze. I almost fell asleep and decided to go back onto the bed.

Enjoying rainy season feels like celebrating the death of summer to me. It's like welcoming the troops that have just killed my enemy. Especially if you're an introvert. The rain knows how to treat you well.

I don't know whether being an introvert is a way to be my true self, or it's just a state of denial to avoid my disappointing social life. Disappointing lover. But what i know for sure is that i really enjoy being an introvert. And the rain cooperates very well.

Rain became one of my excuses to refuse going out. I like being a prisoner in my own house. I like being trapped with good books, psychological-thriller movies, and hot coffee. I love doing those while it's raining outside. Feels like heaven.

I pushed my limit until my head was full of plot twists from psychological-thriller movies, thought-provoking ideas from good books, and stimulating caffeine from cups of hot coffee. I reached my limit. My head hurted. I went out and sat on the porch, watching the lovely thing that has imprisoned me.

I focused up my senses on the rain. I watched it, listen to it, smelled it, tasted it, felt it. It was like having an intercourse with rain. I'd call it 'raingasm'. But sometimes, rain could be hurtful as well.

I see rain as drops of memories. Each drop contains a particular memory that makes me too sad to remember it. Maybe because i've got rain involved in a song that i wrote and dedicated for someone. A song that was supposed to be a love song, but it turned out being a song of shame.

I would never listen to that song anymore. It feels too painful to fill my head with my own voice of meaningless adoration. And in some rainy nights, i secretly wish and imagine that the song would be played on my wedding. Yeah, call me pathetic, call me whatever you will.

As the rainy season dies, my melancholic side of soul fades out. And as the summer resurrects, the fierce side takes control. And those sides of my soul are covered by masks of social conformity; joy and hospitality.

Holidays and A Twisted Mind

This is the worst, loneliest holidays i've ever had.

I've been waiting for these 45 days off and i've planned to spend it by reading books and watching movies while having cups of coffee. It's going as i planned, but it's not as great as i thought it would be.

It didn't start very well. On the first day off, a girl that has been away from my head for a while, came back. Not physically, though. But she's back. It's like she did a break-in into my mind and started living in there, once again. 

At the beginning, i kinda enjoyed it, regarding of how i truly miss her. But then, she started killing me again. It feels like your whole body is itchy, but you can't scratch it. Or you're hungry but you can't eat. Or you have an open wound but it won't heal. It definitely sucks. She's like a cancer, spreading all over my whole mind, thoughts, and heart. And it makes me sick.

I cannot concentrate on everything. I've lost my focus on every goddamn thing. And it ruins my plan. I cannot read books, i cannot watch movies, i cannot enjoy my coffee, i cannot do anything cause she's stolen my whole concentration and focus.

And when the night comes, i start being haunted by the memories we've had when we were together, and imagining things that i wish would happen. It cheers me up in some way, but it also makes me suffer in the other way. Last night, for instance. I was about to sleep and imagined having a dinner with her and our future kids in our house. It felt a bit far-fetched, and it felt kinda painful.

I fell asleep and woke up feeling very emotional this morning. It's a mixed-up feelings of sadness, happiness, loneliness, anger, and fear. And while i'm having a cup of coffee this morning, i was questioning my sanity. "Is this a symptom of insanity?" I asked myself. I sipped my coffee and continued. "Or am i just too deeply falling in love with her?"

I finished my coffee and took a shower. For a million times, i thought "I'm not insane. I just believe in a concept called 'true love waits'". Well, it's been three years, and i wish there won't be many years ahead.

So, mind and holidays, i need you both to cooperate.