paamayim nekudotayim

I believe something must have bothered me only I don’t know what it is. I had been trying to catch some sleep since high noon yesterday without success. So it’s really good when I finally manage to tire myself out to sleep last night at around 1am. Or so I thought.

It’s now pretty much still the very same night, three hours and a couple of weird dreams later, and here I am typing on this journal saying I believe something must have bothered me only I don’t know what it is.

I, of course, lie, about me not knowing what it is.
Few things have been in the back of my mind lately, but they are not something I never experienced before. They all are just things that happen the way they are supposed to happen, and I have certainly made effort not to make big fuss about them. They bother me alright, but I think I manage.

I perhaps simply can’t sleep. Perhaps it’s just those three cups of coffee I had the night before, still powerfully in effect. That, and the irregular sleeping hours habit, are taking their tolls. Zombie-ing about is hardly a pleasant option, but it’s the only one.

*update at 1030 AM
so I decided to watch a movie, Mean Streets (Harvey Keitel and Robert de Niro in their very very early young age career), until 0630 or so, and then, except for the loud TV noise at around 8 to 9 (it’s American Idol, I now learn), I slept quite well until 1030.

the contract for this flat we’re living in will expire in two months time. We’re definitely going to break the flatmateship.

One has already found a new place, he’s possibly moving out by the end of this month. One other already set his sight on a new place he’s reserved. So that leaves three of us. We actually plan to stay together, the three of us, and have already “engaged” two friends as replacements.

But I am now pondering my options. I’ve been living in this area ever since I set my foot in this country, that was six years ago coming July. I’d like to have a different neighbourhood. These flatmates I am now with (and the two flatmates-to-be), they have only west-area to consider. Being busy postgraduate researchers, they have to live near the university.

So when two of my high-school friends mentioned that they’re, too, moving out of their current flat and they want to choose place nearer to central area, I think this could be just what I’m looking for. Not necessarily in the central area; east, north, anywhere but west-side. East will be the best for its coast.

Hopefully we can find one. If history has taught us anything, is that finding a new place is not easy. Especially if we’re going to share it with others; although I am not particularly picky. As a matter of fact, on two previous occasions, I happened to agree on the first choice brought to me. But in the past I’d seen friends, after visiting half a dozen places, they were still far from choosing one.

“What was in the case ?”

“l don’t remember.”

“Lesson number two.”

“Keep in touch.”

“Let’s go.”

“No questions, no answers. That’s the business we’re in. You accept it and move on. Maybe that’s lesson number three.”

the weekend is definitely a cinema paradiso weekend, music-wise.

Ever since I watched the film couple of days ago, I practically played only its soundtracks on my winamp (there were some other songs, but they didn’t last long). Last night I listened to them until dawn, against my sleepy eyes, until I fell asleep sitting in front of the computer (it’s the only music player I have after my mp3 player died on me few months ago). They are offering a different kind of soothing moment, they give a different form of peace in my mind. Relieving-kind of longing, if there is such thing. I’m not good at describing things, especially in English.

and the music have been somehow an aid to my concentration to do the freelance work all day long. I wrote quite lot of codes today.

I remember when I listened to Cold Mountain soundtracks for two months without any other songs on the playlist. I remember my housemate once wondered how limited my music collection must’d been, because he noticed I’d been playing only scores from The English Patient over and over again for weeks. When I am in this situation, it’s a little difficult to put other songs to the playlist. Umm, rather, it’s a little difficult to appreciate other songs.

so this is time for music scores from Cinema Paradiso.

“the good thing about a good thing is that it’s a good thing. it’s _the_ good thing.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“You don’t know shit.”

I watched [Nuovo] Cinema Paradiso yesterday (and the day before, as well).

There are more than a dozen classic films featured in it, and how I realized that I really really need to watch more classics. I could only recognize John Wayne and Humphrey Bogart (and perhaps Charlie Chaplin, well who doesn’t recognize his moustache), but I didn’t have a clue for the rest.

Lately I have only seen relatively modern films: Top Gun, Nikita, Chinatown, Toy Story[ies], Laputa, and Cinema Paradiso. Put James Stewart on the screen please.

By the way, it’s been quite a while since I watched one film twice back to back, but Cinema Paradiso had made me do just that. It’s a great movie. I am inclined to mention “especially the second half”, but one could argue that the second half wouldn’t be as good without seeing the other half.

On a quite different note, the soccer match which I really hoped to be some kind of “classic match” turned a little ugly, and even so with my favourite team losing after some frantic end-of-game defending. We had our fingertips (one whole hand, perhaps) on the prize for the most duration of the game, yet it’s all gone within five minutes. I don’t even want to see any news headlines related to the match, let alone to read or discuss anything about it. Not now. How we had hoped for months for this Cup to justify the miserable (and now confirmed trophy-less) season.
The good thing is that we are proud to have come this far. The good thing is that there is always next season to look forward to. So, good luck.

“Usually that’s the way it goes. But every once in a while, it goes the other way too. My heart beats and there is time.”

You heart beats and your eyes fills up with water. I’m glad. Is your friend.

“my heart beats and there is time.”

Bima tiba tiba panik. Kebun kacang nya mati. Kekeringan. Bukan, bukan kekeringan. Ia tidak tahu. Pagi ini ia tidak sengaja terjatuh di atas gundukan tanah tempat ia menanam benih kacang tanah sekian hari lalu. Ketika gundukan itu buyar dan tanah berpencar, ia mendapatkan biji benih kacang nya busuk. Ia bangun, melangkah sepuluh meter ke kanan, mencongkel gundukan tanah yg masih utuh, dan kemudian tercengang melihat benih kacang yang di sana juga ternyata busuk. Selama setengah jam kemudian, secara acak ia panik berjalan setengah berlari kian kemari, jongkok bangun di seluruh area kebun kacang nya, mengecek sana sini,…

Kebun kacang nya mati. Calon kebun kacang nya mati. Ia tak tahu pasti kenapa.

Beberapa minggu lalu para kolega petani sudah mengingatkan ia kalau kondisi iklim bulan ini tidak memungkinkan untuk kacang tanah. Bahkan, sebagian besar memutuskan bahwa kondisi iklim tidak cocok untuk menanam apapun di tanah mereka. Beberapa memutuskan kondisi iklim tidak cocok untuk meneruskan pekerjaan menjadi petani dan memutuskan meninggalkan desa mereka untuk memulung di kota jauh di tepi laut -perjalanan dengan bis ke kota itu perlu waktu dua hari dua malam-.

Tapi Bima kukuh. Istriku suka kacang tanah, ia bergumam dalam hati setiap kali.

Salah satu petani yang memutuskan pergi ke kota, adalah teman dekat nya dari kecil. Mereka sama-sama anak tunggal, dan di antara sekian puluh rumah dalam radius satu kilometer di desa mereka, hanya ia dan Sana -nama temannya-, yang berumuran sebaya.

Satu hari sebelum Sana berangkat, mereka duduk-duduk di warung Bu Kacang -terkenal karena harga kacang goreng nya yang mahal-, mencoba mengucapkan selamat jalan dan selamat tinggal sepanjang malam. Mereka sudah mencobanya sejak tiga, empat, lima hari sebelumnya. Sulit, pikir Bima. Susah, pikir Sana.

Kacang tanahku. Sekian hari di dalam tanah, membusuk perlahan bersama hari, tanpa terpikir meninggalkan pesan selamat tinggal. Bima lunglai. Sana tidak tahu bagaimana harus mengucapkan selamat tinggal. Apakah istriku bisa kuyakinkan kalau aku tidak mau bertanam kacang tanah lagi?