Kenapa Chita setahun terakhir ini jadi mendadak jazz?

Nggak juga sih sebenernya. 

Dari dulu dengerin lagu dan musik apa aja. Asal saya suka.
Mau itu orang bilang bagus atau nggak, yg penting saya suka hahaha. 

Mau kata orang-orang K-Pop itu bagus, tapi saya nggak suka, ya saya nggak dengerin.
Mau kata orang-orang musiknya Sri Hanuraga itu berat, tapi saya suka, ya saya play terus.
Entah itu bangun tidur, sambil mandi, atau lari pagi. 

Lari pagi sambil dengerin jazz instrumental?
Orang saya suka terus mau apa?

Saya suka kok nonton Yo-Yo-Ma di YouTube (karena temen saya suka banget), saya dulu sempat ngefans berats sama Maxim (waktu zaman abege),  terus saya nggak sengaja "kenal" Sri Hanuraga dan semua proyeknya yang terus memperkenalkan saya ke Gerald Situmorang dan semua proyeknya. 

Saya itu awam banget tentang musik. Nggak tau mana musik bagus atau bahkan genre musik. 
Saya malah nggak suka musik dikotak-kotakkan dengan genre.
Saya juga nggak tau jenis musik kayak apa yg saya suka. 

Semoga saja menyukai musik itu tidak perlu alasan dan tidak harus dengan pemahaman.

If your Daddy is still alive and well, you're both lucky and blessed.
Because, as I have said it million times, I'm ready to give up anything to have my Daddy back with me. But I can't. And I shouldn't. Or I mustn't.
Well, life goes on.
And even though the last time I see him in flesh was nearly 17 years ago, I still feel a little lucky and blessed because I have some memories of him left with me.

My Dad loved to exercise.
He's a smoker, but he did morning run/jog a lot.
I remember used to run behind him.
And he did shoulder-stand lots at home.

He loves to do carpentering, gardening, or house renovating by himself.
We built cages for our chickens, birds, and rabbits together.
We covered the lawn with cement and turned it into a little pool, then a fish pond that we could fish from on the weekends.
Dad planted a few of fruit trees too.
Mom loved it, I guess. So he did.

Dad was an animal lover.
We went to zoo and animal market for fun.
And we had some pets as well.
He used to have dogs when he was a kid, then the dog died, he buried him on his house's front yard.
But one day when I came home crying because a dog chased me, he went to that (stray) dog and beat him. Poor dog. But also, GO DADDY!

My dad can cook.
He made the best fried rice.
When I sulked at him to cook me fried rice, he told me to wait and sit nicely while he cooks.

He could play guitar really, really well.
That one bit I can remember very clearly.
The guitar he modified himself, which he played with harmonica on his mouth.
Until today, he's the only person I know who could do that.
I also remember when I tried to pick up the guitar but I was too small for that.
He said he's gonna teach me one day.
The day that never came.

Still about guitar, in little village he grew up, no one else had guitar nor could play it.
He taught his friends how to play guitar and went to "Ngamen" (play music in the street side for money) with them all.

He's a history buff.
Yeah, guess whom I inherited that one from.
We were so familiar with museums.
Encyclopedias were our bed time stories.
If I had longer time with him, we would discover more museums in the country!

Since he's a geek already, of course he also loved to read.
He loved Tintin, very much.
He loved reading comics and had hard time growing up because like any other kids, he wasn't allowed to read comics and should be studying instead.
But he let me reading comics, or anything, really.
He encouraged me to read more, to read bigger, thicker book.
Gave me money to buy or rent books.
And we went to second-hand book shop together too.

I didn't realize it until now, when my uncle just told me.
My Dad was a huge movie enthusiast.
Well, this explain the bits of memories I have of him.
When I woke up in the night, I could almost always find him still awake, watching movies I didn't remember.
And from subtitles in the movie was the first time I learn how to read quickly (like an adult!).

My father was a great guy.
Despite of the fact that most of his brothers were scared of him.
Or that he fought a lot growing up.

Even though he's no longer with me in person, I'm very happy that I had him for the first eight years in my life.
And that I had him as my father.
And that I remember so much about him.

I miss you, Papa.

As humans, we are so scared of failures.
We often think failures are scars we forever bear.
Or that it means we can't accomplish something, other than treat it as obstacle before succeed.

My self?
I'm one hell coward person.
I often said, "Life is too short to make mistakes".
I still believe that it's true.
Hence, I think everything very thoroughly and you won't find me doing something without thinking.
Even though it's as simple as choosing dinner.

Then yesterday, I came across this post by my fave singer, Adhitia Sofyan.
I'm a fan of him since NuBuzz 2008. Until now.
And I've been listening to his latest album, Silver Painted Radiance quite a lot lately.

This part though:

"About “Find Who You Are” minute 0:00

This song is about self-encouragement. You want to become something that you’ve been dreaming of, but there’s lots of baggage holding you back; fear, not knowing, self-doubt, dark past, etc. But these baggage can’t drag you back no matter what, because even though you are afraid or unsure, you know who you truly are. So the mantra in this song is the question “Who you are if you can’t fail?” – if you can’t fail, if failure does not exist in this world, who would you be, what would you want to achieve? now be that person."

That part slapped me right on my face.
Who you are if you can't fail?

Really.

If you will take action and it will succeed, you know it will, because failure doesn't exist, who would you be today? What else would you want to achieve?
Would you be a different person than who you are today?

Absolutely.

Maybe I would be abroad.
Either studying, working, or traveling.
Because hell, why wouldn't I be, if I can't fail?

Today is my little sister's birthday.
The only one I have.

We may don't have the luxury of living in the same house together.
We are not as close as other sisters.
I don't know much about her, nor what is going on in her life.
And vice versa.

In other life, when life is more perfect, we are just like the other sisters.
We would know about each other's life.
We would fight a little because you take my clothes.
Or because I borrow your shoes and not telling.

In other life, you would be the first person who knows when I like a boy.
Or if I got fight with my friends.
Or when I was brokenhearted.

In other life, we would go shopping together.
Or watching movies until very late at night.

But in both lives, we're still sisters.
Doesn't matter if we don't talk everyday. Or every month.
I still love you.
Doesn't matter if we don't know about each other's life.

Happy birthday to you, Arinda.
I wish you all the best things in life.
I wish you to live a happier, better life than I could have.
Because you deserve it.
I love you.

Another year has gone by.
When I was 19, I wished I could stop growing old and be 19 forever instead.
Obviously, that one wish didn't come true.

Twenty five.

Being a pessimist person I was (and still am), I never thought I could reach 25.
But here I am.

Twenty five.

Live in a strange city quite far from home.
Get a never-boring job.
With those lovely workaholic colleagues.
And have a very nice life over all.

What I have today is more that I could ever ask.
Even though I never planned this.

God,
Thank you.