The time has finally arrived

And yeah, what a freaking relief to us all newcastle-mad, geordie fans out there in the wide world...our team have finally made it people,..despite all the grudges and the pins and the loud shouts,..last night Blackburn became our first victim with a long list to come. Jenas might have been gone, Ambrose might have fled, and hell, Kluivert's not there anymore, but with Shearer still in tact and Bowyer still at hand, and of course Owen at the spot, there's nothing we can't get a hold on....so watch out dear old Manc Citizens,..you guys are next!

yeah people, this is it!

damn, it took me quite a while to finally find the song that really represents me as i am; hear and say; Obstacle 1 by interpol....
it just may be that it's the obsession of the mo, but hear and then decide....

introducing my new obsession of the moment

interpol_04
Originally uploaded by anisa_santoso.

Now, they may not be English, although half of them were born in England, but other than those nu metal stuffs which only fit me during hard times, or Keane's mellow songs which can only reduce to tears, Interpol's music can only represent me; intelligent, classy and dark at the same time...well, i guess one can only truly judge when having experience,..so try and listen, and you'll get my point.

That one sinful night when we were stuck in a Karaoke Joint and decided to have fun anyway...

And when it comes to post-modernism,death metal prevails....

is this summer?-the guy next door2

when we arrived, i sort of thought that this was suppose to be a summerschool, meaning that it would be held during the summer, when the sun is shinning high, and we would all be wearing short sleeves and miniskirts,...i guess i have spoken a little bit too soon. definitely our definition of summer had glided to the opposite direction when we moved northwards from Southern France. Even at the midst of June, the weather is as much as Spain in February,..or worse yet,..Belgium in September.
There's a thing with being a foreign student in Europe, you will have annoyingly unvaried weeks after weeks,..week in week out. Mondays are spent relentless, trying to make it to the end of the day, tuesdays are spent being tired of the last day, wednesdays are spent out of the house and into (what seems to us) real life, which would probably be the town's clubbing area, thursdays are spent regreting why hadnt that particular day decided to rule itself out of the ordinary weekdays,..fridays are spent with the over-excited anxiety of getting to the nearest and hippest clubs (if not cities) that passed by our ruthless brains. Other than any, saturdays, by the way are spent walking in parks, zoos, botanical gardens and other less crowded peacefull places where your hangover marks are insignificant and punctuality matters not while eating ice cream and fries. sundays,however..are spent in a completely different way...sundys are mostly spent with having large brunches and sleeping in our bunks.....last sunday, by the way was not the case for me.
While everybody was off to church or anywhere else, i was forced to stay in and complete my statistics homework. But because the homework turns out to be a brain strain, i decided that i would accomplish better without forcing myself to solve it, so after lunch i decided to rest with my new Dan Brown book. But then again,..the guy next door came in slamming the door like he were meant to play Vinnie Jones' part in Lock Stock and 2 Smoking Barrels. After a second, he began blowing that new Black Eyed Peas song over and over again (of course he timed it with Chemical Brother's Galvanize), but it was as if i was in sound hell! Okay, may be he's a DJ to be playing that song again and again for at least thirty minutes,...but then again,..maybe he's just obsessive about certain songs......nothing that i would want to find out just yet. But the thing is, he played it out so loud that i could have sworn that i could feel the floor beneath me trembled!..and to think that i thought today is a perfect peaceful day to do some Dan Brown reading,.....That particular Sunday by the way,...forget about reading,..i couldnt sleep, i couldnt rest,..it was as if i was actually in the guy next door's room as i can hear each and every lyric that the song bears, every scream, every yelling and every single rising tone!....including when he put on a whole album of Metallica..(like; God!! till when am i suppose to stand all of these people with Death Metal preferrence?)....and yes, unlike before,...we have seen the face of this accused criminal of sound..and that's a whole new story..
After the euphoria of 'the guy next door', me, feli and Jelena, and even Alejandro were wary about each and every move and sound coming from 'that' part of our floor. we have detected a few gestures, like the banging on the door, the television sounds and the playstation game themesongs (exactly, it was that 'oh-o' sound of the little worms in 'Worms' PS1) ,..oh, and of course, the blarring Death Metal. One time at night he walked outside his room, while we we're in the dining room. None of us dared to look out to see his face, ..so i pushed Feli to do so,..and being able to judged him as 6,5 out of 10 before,..i thought she would need to confirm that judgement,..and she did.....saw his leg....period. nothing else, just HIS LEG!! not even both legs, but one! i bet she couldn't even determine which leg it was!
After Alejandro got his computer, though, out of the blue we just see him more often. it started when Alejandro tried to log on to the internet from his new laptop, the guy next door was apparently present somehow, and Alejandro called him to his room to help,...and he did,..he even spoke english and tried hard to help Alex to log in (though it didn't work, thanx to him),..and apparently won his heart at that point to made Alex claim him as a 'very nice' guy.
After this event, he came appearing every night and day (about eleven at night) to the kitchen, getting some beers (i didnt actually notice this, Alejandro did that all for me),..and we finally got face to face. i cant remember exactly when was the first time we met,..but i guess it was when i had the whole four of us in the kitchen (and probably with Ryan too). He was not at all like what i pictured him to be; big, blonde, blue eyed German with heavy accent and a member of a neo-Nazi group. This guy who has been living besides my room is rather small, and beardy, he looks like a crappy version of Brad Delson (no direct similarities, though, as we all know that Brad Delson is way-way more in everything than him). The guy next door i think has either Arab, Turkish or Italian Blood, and by that definition he could not be a member of a neo-Nazi group, of course,..and neither would he be much of a racist. Judging by appearance, he would be what my Exotic-stuffs and things-lover friend Jan call 'buff',...nothing that i would say to anyone but probably Morten Gamst Pedersen of Blackburn Rovers or John Terry of Chelsea. Either way, unlike what would happen in the 'other section' of our floor, we barely experience any social contacts whatsoever other than a casually forced 'Hi', and when he said it we were always with everyone else, and never by ourselves. Jelena, by the way did see him a couple of times one day by herself, and claimed that he had been friendly to say 'Halo' at any given time to her,...not personally being there, i refused to believe that.
The first time we have actually came across each other whilst being with no one was two days ago, and he said 'halo', a sour smileless 'halo'. Even though, just a few days before, an unintended incident involving the shower had occured. one morning i was going to the shower, and as a proper conduct i packed all my shower related products with me; my shampoo, my conditioner, my other conditioner, and my two soaps and scrubs. But, because i had bought most of these things back in Indonesia, with the consideration that i will have to keep up with them for two months, i only have huge packages of them,...and going to the shower i was left with a problem; not wanting to leave anything in the shower i was forced to make two trips, one for storing my shampoo and conditioner, and another for the soap and scrubs...and i did. Just when i returned from the shower after depositing my shampoo and conditioner, the door slammed beside mine,..the guy next door...i thought,....and shortly afterwards, i heard the shower door closed before finally i heard the loud noise of the shower's dropping water flow....omigod...i had just left my shampoo and conditioner in the shower shortly before,..could it be that now it is trapped in the same shower where the guy next door is taking his?...feeling deadly uncomfortable about the whole thing, and awkward to check the showers, i decided to stay in my room untill the shower drop sound stopped, and the door was slam shut beside me....he had finished shower....so i rush to have mine.
when i got to the shower where i had left my things i found my shampoo and conditioner still there,.....dry! and the floor was also,....dry,..in fact, everything in that particular shower was as i stated,...dry!..which means that the guy was not in this shower before...

in bochummmmm

when i got to the student hall was; was it all there is to it?...is this 'place' all they have to contain and manage my vanity and cockiness? i think not..but then again, i had kept a possitive mind on everything, therefore i need not to go further than that..
i did get a bit worried about the rooms,..and a series of 'what ifs' sort of blazed through my brains,...but in nomore than an hour the what ifs gradually vanished.
my room and feli's next to each other, and 'yeah cool' was the first thought i had when they gave us the room keys,..but then again, when i really got to check the room, it turns out that despite our room numbers being so close to each other's,..there was a big concrete wall dividing our rooms, and my door was actually closer to another room's door; room 408. at first i didnt pay that much attention to any of the previous,..that was of course before i had actually seen the boots set in front of the room. it was one, dirty,..two,..black,..three very similar to those found at the feet of racist german soldier or neo-nazis available at any given time...i mean, let's get realistic here: how many germans would actually wear those kind of shoes,..and better yet; what sort of germans would?
At first i was left with a blinding yet careless thought that it must had just been me afterall, that i was being paranoid,...but then again there was the panicky-dillematic part of me breaking up to the surface...and by the end of the day, this vehemently cruel part of me put the conclusion; i am living next door to a real life sick german freak!..
a day after, i was so haunted to the other day's thought that i could actually be having a manic racist living next door to my room. After all the assumption comes....hypersensitivity. we were having some time out and it was great, met new people went to new places,..but,...i could never seem to meet the 'guy next door'..like ever!..he was almost never out of his room, and therefore never used the kitchen. Eventhough i think he bathe frequently, because one day i heard him banging his door before the shower room was shut brutally. it is almost as if he gets out very late at night when everybody around him was sleeping to catch his prey, and that he cannot have us -normal people- around to see him eat because he feeds on human blood. Of course because nobody seems to have a lot of social neurons, people in my part of the floor never actually socialize that much, no one had actually paid attention to any of 'my neighbour's behaviour,....well that was before they put me right next to his room,......being over-concious and hyper-sensitive after witnessing the pressence of those conspicuous boots, i am suddenly aware of almost each and every single thing this guy had playing in his room. He has a telly in his room, i can tell, because of the random german mumbling and sudden applauses coming out from the little gaps of his door and windows. but when he doesnt put his telly on, his music selection speaks more than i need to know. i was kind of hoping that despite being a potential racist, he might just be cool, and has a good taste in music,..but, i guess hearing Aerosmith playing next door is not exactly the best way to tell, especially when afterwards he played this freaky -and not to mention extremely long- turkish sounding music,....okay, so at least he doesnt do Britney Spears, and that is already a good thing.


to becontinued....

It's a place to unwind afte a day of shopping in Knightbridge,..up ahead you can see the Grandeur of Albert Memorial,..these parks and these trees can only do as much as represent what i remember as 1 of the most tranquile place i've known in the surface of the earth...do wish with all my might to come back there.....it's funny, but i really do feel like i belong there,..somehow,..but not like some ppl,..for me it's just London, not any other foreign city i've lived in,...plainly London.. 

guess who will be cruel enuff nexx.. 

When the end is near then you remember what hit you

"And what rough beast, its hour come round at last, Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?"
(The Second Coming, W. B. Yeats)

Sometimes you need an hour, sometimes a day, a week, or even a whole year to know somebody. Some may say it’s true, some may not. But to really know somebody inside out for us it took almost three years.
In the past somewhat 32 months, the way I think about people has changed almost completely, as people around me change, turning from right to left or back to front, from up to down, under to above, bottom line; completely different.
Who I thought was going to give stole from me, who I thought was going to steal gave, who I thought was my best friend turns out to be the world’s lousiest bitch, and who I thought was the laziest person alive became a best friend, who I thought was the only person I could talk to lied, what I thought was right turned wrong, what I thought would help me ate me alive.
It is funny how three years and a whole bunch of paperworks can contribute so much to the outcomes of your lifeline. It gives you so much, it tells, it uncovers, it reveals, it teaches, and you learn a lot.
It is unbelievable but true; what we are experiencing may not be the beginning or the end, as our journey in this level is, but it sure gives you a different perspective of the way things work, gives you the grit and the will to survive, the selectiveness needed before compromising further and risking what might just be the biggest moment of our lives.