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Friday, February 18, 2011

Anna of Batavia

Part one- 1

Batavia was monotonous, or so I discovered upon setting my foot on the coarse gravel of the port.
"Haasten, Anna. Haasten,"
The place was exactly like what my friends Carlijn and Maria had described earlier before I left in school.
They had only been in the Netherlands for a year, juxtapose with the whole sixteen years I spent in my country of birth.
Carlijn and Maria were both born in Hindia, Carlijn in Soerabaja and Maria in Batavia. They were both second cousins, their fathers acquiring a relatively huge family business exporting spices from Molukken back to the Netherlands.
Of course, upon hearing of my father's relocation by his company to Batavia, Carlijn and Maria both approached me in class and started describing how incorrigibly plain the place is.
"Grey, im zeggen u Anna. We were both born and raised there so perhaps all we had been accustomed to were the bleakness of Hindia. We never noticed the starkness of poor old Batavia while we were there because we did not have anything to compare it with. Every object is measured as relatives to other objects. We had no relatives to measure Hindia by, but upon reaching Netherlands last year, we soon realized what a benediction it was to finally be home. Pray God, we simply cannot imagine having lived in Batavia all those years, the thought in itself is frightening,"
I did not know how to respond to Carlijn's drear depictions of Batavia. Papa had promised a land of sunshine, and wealth; a land of promises and beauty. I trusted Papa because he had never let me down. However, as Papa and Mama both loaded our bags to the horse carriage that is going to take us to our housing for the night before we impart on a longer journey to Soerabaja tomorrow morning, I took a closer, more scrutinizing look at the colony around me.
A chill ran up my spine, an eerie chill, and as I turned around to climb up the carriage I bumped into a girl, perhaps my age with long thick, black curls. She fell to the ground almost abruptly, and I did to.
She looked at me, eyes clearly terrified.
"Maaf Madam. Maaf,"
As the girl stood up, I saw that her arms were covered with scar, and that there were marks which looked like burn wounds in some places on her right leg.
The girl looked at me again, before she picked up her steps and hurried away from me.
"Anna Maria, Bent u al terecht? Hurry, get on the carriage. We have a long way to go,"
Father helped me got up on the carriage and as it trotted away I could not help but turn around and look at the girl. Her small figure slowly disappearing as it disappeared deeper and deeper into the busyness of the port.
The same chill ran up my spine. I did not know why, but this second one felt more uncannily eerie.



i love you most ardently, 10:31 PM.
Saturday, January 22, 2011

you

you with your words that cut,
your smile that pierces,
a subtle hint of irony,

you with your skin of pale,
your eyes consumed by Night,
a white Sepulchre

you with your dramatics,
your friends that laugh,
To kill a Mocking Walking Being,

you with your thoughts that contradict,
your faltering judgement,
your limitless grief,
your uncanny obsession over void,
your fear of death,
your hypocritical faith,
your love, that in the end matters not,

how can i respect you?
if you can't even respect yourself?
how can i look up to you?
how can i love you,
if you don't even love yourself.


i love you most ardently, 7:40 PM.
Tuesday, January 11, 2011

enough

when i saw you outside my car window,
i felt nothing,
for the first time in the last six months,
it was easy for me to not feel anything,
which is strange considering that this time, last year
you were everything to me.
what i did feel was the fleeting twang of memory,
how probably this time last year, you were walking to your class,
holding your phone while texting me good morning to wake me up.
i realized that i no longer miss those text messages,
or you for that matter,
but i just remember them, and i'm beginning to remember things
in the absence of hurt.
i am grateful for acceptance, and time.

lately, i have been thinking about a lot of things.
i have this uncanny feeling about the future,
and although i try to think about it less, and less,
you make me realize that i have to think about it more and more.
i place myself relative to you
only to discover a transcendental contentment.
people search their whole lives to find a place to belong,
i think i've found mine.

but you give me no answers,
and like the coming hours and days,
i dislike uncertainties.
i've had enough,
i just want all this to end.

i love you most ardently, 8:16 PM.
Wednesday, January 5, 2011

why i haven't been writing
i am tired. i am tired. i am tired.
i do not make sense.
all i want is all this to be over,
go somewhere, become somebody.
become anything i can ever imagine,
and the things that i can't ever imagine.
i want the one thing i want right now.
i want to stop circling around in void,
and for once,
be sure of something.


i love you most ardently, 7:49 PM.
Friday, November 12, 2010

two times the charm

this is the the first few paragraphs of what would eventually be my second novel.
i started writing this last week. once again, i find it difficult to escape the narrative voice of a disturbed and broken, teenage girl.

I felt enervated. It wasn’t so much the insane amount of work I had impinged myself upon but rather the incessant grey clouds that loom in the skies I call my mind.

“We need to start new. So many things have happened to us in this city- everyone knows too much about us. We need to start fresh.”

That was my mother. Always thinking about reputation and how it is the sole and most integral aspect of life. I was often obliged to acquiesce even if it meant packing my bags and moving to a whole different place right now.

I had everything packed neatly in several boxes. A man working for the relocation service we hired was busy sealing the boxes with duct tape.

I was sitting on my sheet –less bed which I have slept on for the last 17 years of my life for the last time while looking at my things disappearing box my box as they got sealed. One box right beside me remained unsealed however, and on top of it was a picture of my dad and me when I was ten and when things were a million times different from present day.

Sure things have been difficult; all those long nights waiting for him to come back home, and when he did, often smelling the lusty noxious scent of cigarette smoke and alcohol, had to mean something. Mum always waited for him to come back before she started yelling regardless of whether he was conscious or not, listening or not. Mum was never patient with Dad, but I on the other hand, waited patiently in my room for him to enter and tell me that everything was going to be all right.

I worshipped my dad to such great extents and still do now, even after he decided to just walk out on my mother and me, one day, with no letter, no note, no remnant of his existence except some of his old clothes behind.

My mother called him a Selfish Bastard,

But my dad to me was still my dad; nothing more, nothing less.

He was just going through a hard time, and I believed with all my heart that he would come back.

That was why moving became so difficult.

What if dad decided to come back?

Would he know where to find us?


i love you most ardently, 8:20 PM.
Saturday, October 2, 2010

the only exception

maybe somewhere i know deep in my soul that love never lasts. and we've got to find other ways to make it alone, or keep a straight face. and i've always lived like this, keeping a comfortable distance, and up until now, i had sworn to myself that i'm content with loneliness.
because none of it was ever worth the risk
but
you are the only exception

every time i listen to this song,
i begin to think of you.
there's something about the way the lyrics are put together
amalgamated from a million different things,
that makes me realize, no matter where i am,
or whatever i'm doing,
that though i may be extremely and infinitely sure that
you're the only exception,
you're just not.

yes, i'm too nice.
yes, i daydream too much.
yes, i believe in sweetness too much,
and accept reality too little.
yes, i'm too naive,
but i've been always been all these things,
and i will always be these things.

i think everyone looks for love,
no matter how cold they may be,
or how indifferent they are to their feelings,
they all look for love,
this love that we all look for, is the same kind of love,
a love that could traverse oceans,
last through life threatening moments,
sacrifice beyond limits,
and is patient at all circumstances.

and i realize that these were all the different things i thought i found in you,
because you were those things to me and so much more,
you were looking for love,
but you weren't looking for me,
and i on the other hand,
was unequivocally looking for you.

right now,
you're no longer the last thing i think about before i sleep,
nor the first thought that appears in my mind when i wake up.
i no longer think about all the wrong things you have done to me,
or all the wrong things i have done to you in return.
i don't think about how we tried to fix each other up so hard,
that we ironically ended up breaking each other, so much harder.
the words 'what if' no longer appears in my mind, because i no longer think about
what would've happened if my desires and yours intersected back then,
and if circumstances allowed us to be together.
i don't feel an interminable emptiness in my heart anymore when i'm alone,
and i don't cry when i realize that you're no longer there to fill the emptiness,
because by now,
i've already gotten the piece back,
and, albeit with you,
i can finally be whole again.

back then,
i thought that the only way i could ever heal was if you somehow returned back to my life
and once again, pick me up and help me heal.
there weren't any alternatives back then.
but then i realize that healing would always have to naturally start with me,
and the invincible ability of time, distance and our innate power, no matter how invisible this may be at times,
to slowly cover all the wounds, fill me up, and make me whole again.

you were once everything to me,
and i would be lying to myself if i said that i don't have feelings for you,
because i would always love you,
though the thing that makes this love different,
is how i have now realize that i will always love the person you were to me before
and not the person who you are now.
in life, it is physically and emotionally impossible for a person to fall in love with just one thing,
i fall in love with a million different things everyday,
and you just happen to be one of them.

right now,
i believe that one day,
though it may not be to you,
i would finally have be able and allow myself to look at someone in the eye and say,
darling,
you are the only exception

i love you most ardently, 10:53 PM.
Tuesday, September 14, 2010

farewell

one of my best friends joe,
left for seattle yesterday
goodbye joe,
wish you all the best in seattle and everything up ahead.

i love you most ardently, 2:37 AM.
Thursday, September 9, 2010

where will claudia be next year

new york city, baby

this is the first view of manhattan i'll see from my airplane window, minutes before i land in john f kennedy.


and the first thing i'll do when i arrive, like all true new yorker is shop, preferably at this huge forever 21.


and i'll spend the morning breakfasting over one of these super yummy new york street cupcakes


after some time with mi lovely cupcakes, i'll take a long walk at central park


bungee jump off a building


eat lunch at a beautiful little bistro with good food


and drop by this cute hershey's shop for some reese's and kisses


before rushing off in a cab


to my campus for afternoon classes



after tireless but exciting hours of classes, i'll spend the afternoon at the top of the empire state building


taking in this amazing view


before taking the subway, destination broadway street to watch my most favorite broadway show, wicked


and ending the day walking aimlessly around times square, lit to its fullest, while sipping sweet warm choco from a to go cup.


to make everything better, my best friend glenys is also applying to a university in new york which means we'll spend the weekends getting lost in the streets together while carrying ten shopping bags.


yes, i do think that new york is that amazing.


and i'm counting down the days


Labels:


i love you most ardently, 11:08 PM.
Sunday, August 29, 2010

another sometimes

sometimes your song would play out of the blues on my ipod,
and everything would come back,
everything, except you.

sometimes when i go out i would meet the people you know,
the people who are very close to you,
smile at them and say hi,
and everything would come back,
everything, except you

sometimes i spend the night in places i don't recognize,
doing things that i would forget of doing the next day,
thinking about how i would spend the nights with you, if you were still here,
and everything would come back,
everything, except you

sometimes i walk around aimlessly at night,
and somehow find myself in a room
where the tv is turned on to a soccer match,
and everything would come back,
everything, except you.

sometimes i wake up smiling in the morning,
and read the text messages from friends on my phone,
and smile,
and then everything would come back,
everything, except you

sometimes i dream about you,
every night i realize that i just wasted another dream on you,
and then everything would come back,
everything, except you

you always find a way to get to me.
but please do tell me love,
why i still can't find away to leave when you have already left a million sometimes ago

i love you most ardently, 11:48 PM.

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claudia natasia
i like to make myself believe that planet earth turns slowly
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"and being a girl could be about interest rates and skinny jeans, riding bikes and wearing pink. not about any one thing, but everything" - along for the ride, sarah dessen