ponder.

I say: 'I see'

I mean:

'I don't really understand but I'm attempting to appear to consider whatever it is you are telling me if only you continue talking, which I hope you do.'

'I'm waiting for more information.'

'What am I supposed to say to that?!'

At times, I might actually see. But don't hold your breath.

aku mau memelukmu

Post ini akan dalam bahasa Indonesia karena gw keren seperti itu. Tapi jangan coba terjemahkan ini, karena mungkin akan aneh kepada yang bicara hanya bahasa Inggris.
Aha! Permasalahnya minggu!
1. Gak ada HP, jadi, gak bisa ngobrol sama orang tertentu...dan kangen sekali. Dia selalu gembira dan bisa menyelesaikan kalimatgw...dan kalimat ini tidak bagus. ADUH bahasa Indonesia gw kurang pandai dan akan gagal di hidup.
2. Sudah memutuskan bahwa bagu formal kurang cocok.
3. Tidak terlalu senang membahas politik.

Thinking in Indonesian is too hard. I'm supposed to be good at it, too. And really, don't bother translating it because Google translate is rather off with its translations.
I'm moving house tomorrow. Back to good old safe, old people housing, cardigan wearing snob filled, lovely oak tree paved Balwyn, and I'm almost sad, but then I remember how much closer I'll be living to most things that make up my life. Those things being school, work and my friends... how incredibly ordinary I am.
I really miss Indonesia too, and everyone there.
My mind is incredibly blank right now.
I get into these moods, where I'm reminded of what a loner I am... where I don't want to talk to anyone, and as a result I'm not able to maintain any form of conversation whatsoever and this is just horrible. I don't know what's wrong with me!
My knees are also awful. They deserve to never see the sun.

and here is the deepest secret that nobody knows

Plethora is a good word. It means this:



Geddit?! A bun dance. Abundance!
I have nothing to talk about these days. Apologies.

He carves you a new smiling face.

I received this in a forwarded junk email, but I thought it was strange and somewhat beautiful.

That is, the bit AFTER the pumpkin joke/fable/thing. That was just strange. Because I am not a pumpkin, even though I used to be.

From one pumpkin to another!!!!!!!
A woman was asked by a coworker,
'What is it like to be a Christian?'
The coworker replied, 'It is like being a pumpkin.'
God picks you from the patch, brings you in,
and washes all the dirt off of you.
Then He cuts off the top and scoops out all the yucky stuff.
He removes the seeds of doubt, hate, and greed.
Then He carves you a new smiling face and
puts His light inside of you to shine for all the world to see.'
This was passed on to me by another pumpkin.
Now it's your turn to pass it to other pumpkins.
I liked this enough to send it to all the pumpkins in my patch.

empire of the universe, almost as large and powerful as this of is over snow, and it seemed as though the snow flurries and the

except ourselves and diseases and with such an infinite geniality the terror of that vault. How sweet it was to see the clouds

Although I have to admit I don't quite understand what it means now that I've read it properly, but I'll just say it's because there's words missing. Is there? I can't tell nowadays, with such obscurely indie poetry out there. It does sound a little threatening though. Is it God trying his best to communicate that I must forward this on to other pumpkins or else something awful will happen?

Harumm. I feel like I'm diagonally parked in a parallel universe.

Ahah.

Stolen from a friend.