sweet scents of petals and pastry…
of minty greens and wilting leaves,
of pretty pinks and dancing daisies,
of fresh flour and warm bread,
and of sour lemon seeping into
crumbling tart, all
ride on the waves of a gentle breeze
and permeate the summer air.
“Every summer, like the roses, childhood returns.”
Traveling back to Perth is something that my family do often, but we only stay for around a week at a time. So it is something that we always look forward to. My littlest brother and I love walking around the lake we have in the front of our house. Almost every time we’d step outside and get ready for our walk, our next door neighbour would be out front with the cutest little puppy, fixing up his garden, waving and saying hello. I was inspired by this little scenario and decided to write a little something about it…
At the same time of every day,
I would take a walk around the lake.
Just as the sun would set,
I’d make my way back home.
And when I did, I always saw the same thing.
I would see a man and his dog in the garden next door.
It didn’t matter if it rained or hailed,
thundered or stormed.
He was always there.
Shovel in hand, sweat off his brow, and his dog by his side.
There was a profound sense of loyalty –
the dog to his owner, and the man to his home.
“A dog is the only thing on Earth that loves you more than he loves himself.”
Photographs are magical. They have the ability to transport you back in time. To a specific day where something specific happened – good or bad. They hold memories that you can relive whenever. All it takes is one look…
When I was younger and my littlest brother ceased to exist, my family would always make it a point to come to Scarborough Beach during our annual one-week holiday back in Perth. I remember ignoring the beach completely and running straight for this gigantic playground they had there instead. Going back there this year, I can tell you that this playground was definitely not gigantic in the slightest, which just goes to show that I’m growing up way too fast and that’s not okay. I actually made it to the beach this time though and it was just incredible. This photo I took speaks for itself. Picturesque. It never fails to remind me of my childhood days.
Bangkok was where my best friend and I had reunited after two years of being apart! It was really, really, really sad that we only got to spend five days with each other, but it’s crazy to look back at how many memories we made during such a short period of time. I guess that’s what best friends are for. Every time I pick up this photo, all of those memories come rushing back as if they happened only yesterday: karaoke sessions at the top of the ferris wheel, melted ice cream at the park, getting sick at the carnival, makeup tutorials, taking horrible polaroids – and regretfully – rejecting popcorn from a cute guy at the movies! I’m never going to find love.. *cue sad music*
Photos taken at Scarborough Beach, Perth and in Bangkok, Thailand
If you don’t already know, I am half Indonesian and I have been living in Jakarta, the capital city of Indonesia, for most of my twenty years on this earth. By reading that you’d think I know everything there is to know about Indonesia. But in all honesty, I don’t. I don’t even speak Bahasa Indonesia fluently – though I know enough of the language to get by. It does make me sad knowing that I will soon be leaving the country without having learnt as much about the local culture as I would have liked. Lesson most definitely learnt.
I live in a very modernised and civilised part of the city, so I don’t often get to witness and experience Jakarta at its realest. Today, like every other Thursday, I waited in my car whilst waiting for my little brother to finish his tuition that took place in a building nearby. We always parked in the same place – which was a rather rural and under-constructed part of town; Jakarta at its realest.
Today, unlike every other Thursday, I took a moment and looked outside of my car window. And I don’t mean a simple glance before immediately glancing back at my phone, which was something I always did. I mean, I watched everything that was going on during the hour. There were many kids, most of whom, I assume, were just coming back from school. Some were just walking around in their pyjamas without a care in the world. Others were on their bikes, chatting and giggling about. At one point, there were these two girls wandering around, singing songs and admiring what to us would be classified as boring, dull and uninteresting leaves, but to them was something so precious.
I guess what I’m trying to get across with this post is that we should be grateful for what we have. These children don’t have much but they manage to find something to be happy about so easily. They aren’t complaining, so why should we be?
“Home is where the heart is.”
Pliny the Elder
[In response to the Weekly Photo Challenge: local]
Don’t trap yourself in a world
where things define who you are.
Know that there are
new places and faces hiding out there,
waiting for you to find them. M a k e m e m o r i e s.
They’re the real luxury!
Senior year. I was the new girl and you were the music kid. You were kind enough to show me around school and become the first ever familiar face in a completely new environment. We didn’t have any of the same classes except for music – something you were extremely passionate about, which I noticed almost immediately. Whenever I came to class and the teachers were yet to show up, you’d be on the keyboard playing whatever while everyone else danced and just had fun. Because that’s what you do. You do you and that’s fun. You made it really easy to be your friend, which wasn’t what you wanted (apparently). But you let the year go on anyway without a hint.
Fast forward to our last couple of days of high school: you asked to hang out for the last time before you had to leave the country, and we did. We had dinner and watched a movie… kind of like a date but kind of not. I still saw you as a friend. The night was coming to an end and that’s when you told me everything. How you felt about me and how you wished you could’ve told me sooner. I was silent and things got a little awkward. You kissed me on the cheek and said goodbye.
Fast forward to you being on the other side of the world: you stopped messaging me constantly. We’d leave each other messages here and there but we just weren’t as close as we used to be. The thing was is I miss you. In a weird way. In a more-than-a-friend sort of way. In a I-think-I-like-you kind of way. And I don’t think you care about me anymore. At least that’s what you’re telling me, ironically, through your lack of words.
I’m more confused than ever. Do I like you for you, or for the you who had a thing for me? Do you still think about me? Should I reach out to you or would that just stop you from living your new life in a new place full of new faces? It’s crazy how much things can change. How could we go from talking every single day to not talking at all? Things probably don’t have to be this complicated but they are. Because that’s what we do. We do complicated and that fucking sucks.
“Life is really simple, but we insist on making it complicated.”