Writing Wish

Last year, on the plane back to Jakarta, I read an interview with a Malaysia based painter who said that he has been painting every day since he was much younger, before going back to doing whatever it was he was supposed to do for the day, including spending time with his friends and watching a sports game.

He paints every day — when he was falling in love, getting married, and having a baby.

He essentially lives an ordinary life, with an extraordinary commitment to painting; his passion, hobby or call it what you wish.

I was so inspired by this article.

I want to have the same dedication level as him. I too want to incorporate a dash of writing into my daily schedule, which will make this ordinary life uniquely mine and utterly satisfying.

Al, the photography teacher, once told me to treat my photography as a writing project. To find or even create a story worth writing, behind each picture I take. I think that’s when I started to find the joy in photography because it speaks in a language I understand: writing.

There are many life instances where things change from bad to acceptable, from a chore to a reflection, from mundane to interesting, from moments to memories when I have my writer’s brain on.

In short, I realized that writing makes my life better; so, on this new moon, I want to release my wish for writing.

I wish to keep writing every day. I wish to keep finding joy in it. And I wish to keep finding joy in other things by writing about it.

I wish writing to be a legacy of mine.

Do you have a passion or hobby in life that makes you want to spend the rest of your life doing? Be it pottery or poetry, If you don’t have one yet, try to find it. Experiment on it, discard the ones you no longer love, adopt the ones you think you might, and more importantly stick with the one that makes you happy. Show up.

Everyday and it will be your legacy.

Or to use my language, it will be your story.

Whimsical Jobs I Wish Exist In The World

Have you ever paused, in the middle of finishing your workload for the day, to think what the fuck are you doing, really? Is this what you want to do in life? Is this how the prime of your life will be spent?

As an accountant, I have had plenty of similar thoughts. At such moments, I started writing down jobs that I rather do instead of doing what I was doing. Here is some of it.

Farm Animals Photographer

Job description: I take beautiful pictures of farm animals in all their glory.

This is a personal obsession of mine. I grew up near a farm. Not on a farm. But near it. Which means I didn’t have to wake up in the morning to milk the cow but I have spent countless of my childhood afternoon in joy surrounded by cows and other farm animals. Also, during a recent trip to the land of sheep, New Zealand, I discovered the joy of sheep photography.

I can imagine doing that for other farm animals. Walking around the farm at dawn to capture them with the best lights. Sneaking from behind to take candid pictures of them doing farm animal stuff.

I genuinely think there is a market in it. It can even be used for animal rights marketing, instead of slaughterhouse videos, my photography will positively invite people to stop eating meat.

Then, I can branch out to farm wedding photography, farm life videos. I shall go town-to-town, staying on different farms, and offering my photography service.

Pink Robed Pundit

Job description: I shed some enlightenment to confuse souls.

You might think being a pundit is not an easy job to pull off. But I have met and got the blessing to fake pundits’ way too many times in my life thanks to my naïve parents that I have enough ammunition in my belt to imitate them.

I just need to stop washing my hair, wear a monochrome robe (in my case it will be pastel pink), and sit somewhere in public. I will then memorize a few pages from The Secret and chant it continuously until people start to notice and ask for my blessing and guidance.

My guidance will also come from The Secret book, and, sometimes, the Chicken Soup for The Soul collections. But I need not worry, because no-one reads anymore these days.

Stuffed Toys Tour Guide

Job description: I take your stuffed toy on a trip.

Here is the premise, you have a soft toy and you like to travel. But you can’t because of one or other reasons. Instead of you traveling, you send your stuff toy to me. I will take a trip, take various pictures and videos with it before sending it back to you.

You will get the satisfaction of traveling without really doing it. Admittedly, not as much as if you do it yourself, but definitely beats watching those travel documentaries. Because your stuffed toy is a part of you.

If you think this job is too absurd, think again, because the job actually exists in the real world and I was born to do it, All my stuff toys can attest to it.

Tattoo Fortune Consultant

Job description: I give a pre-tattoo consultation to people to ensure their tattoo will be auspicious for them based on their birth chart, sun, moon, and rising sign.

I legit googled this before I got my first tattoo as I believe molding your Universe given body has the power to change your fortune. I also think people are constantly being dumb about their tattoo choices (waving to ex-name-tattoo owners) and I will be more than happy to be paid to advise them not to do it.

Like, I could see myself telling someone “Son, looks like you have a long, successful life ahead of you, with a wife, two kids, and three houses. But the tattoo you are considering has the potential to change it to three divorces, two kids, and no house. It’s up to you to go forward with it, but don’t forget to PayPal me $100“.

Joyful But Less Successful Cousin

Job description: I tag along to social gatherings, including stress-inducing family events and be the cheerful albeit average distant relative

Remember the many gentlemen in the early 2000 chick flicks, who at first pretend to be the female leads’ fake boyfriends, but fall in real love by the end of the movies? I will be the platonic version of that. The cheerful, simple-minded, less successful distant cousin of my client. I will enhance the mood of the gathering by acknowledging everyone’s efforts, laugh at dad jokes, and dashing off compliments. At the same time, I will be so average that it will shine the spotlight on my client instead.

In-flight Tarot Reader

Job description: I read people’s life paths when they are on board and bored.

With tarot slowly becoming mainstream, now would be the best time to dip my toe into the pack of 78 cards. And what would be a more effective niche than to do it on the plane?

My tarot stall would be on the first-class section — purely because of privacy.

I’d offer an in-your-face-it’s-what-it’s cards reading, which includes telling people, who just uprooted their lives to move to another country, or couple who are going to vacation together that it might, most probably, definitely won’t work it. It might be painful to hear, but at least it would save them wasting more time and effort in the wrong place, job, country, or relationship.

My additional service includes ordering the next return flight ticket, identifying two single persons on the plane who might be perfect for each other, and free hugs. Tips are not included.

The best part of the job is that I will constantly be traveling. Essentially, it’s an airline job for someone who doesn’t have the gracefulness of a stewardess and the smartness of a pilot. Both of those things, I am not.

With the world situation rn, I won’t be surprised if these job ideas will come to actualization soon. I just need to hang on and tally another balance sheet numbers before it happens.

Ten of Swords Trip Back Home

I think I experienced hell recently by sitting on a window seat in a plane for 12 hours without standing nor sleeping on my way back from Amsterdam to Melbourne. The only good thing about the flight was the Indonesian food (written in Bahasa Indonesia) on the in-flight menu: ikan bakar madu – honey glazed bbq fish.

Thankfully I had a stopover in Singapore.

I stretched my legs, had a quick meal (it was breakfast or lunch or dinner depends on which time I referred to) with my cousin, who was going home to Jakarta. I spent the rest of my hour at the airport in the bookstore where I bought a book about the city I once called home before boarding another plane that would take me to Melbourne.

This time, I requested an aisle seat, which I usually dislike because of all the disruptions, but I thought it would be better for me if I still felt like stretching. Weirdly, I slept off the minute the plan went up in the sky and only got woken up the next day when they served the in-flight meal (which I too wasn’t sure whether it was breakfast, lunch or dinner).

A smooth immigration process and $83 taxi ride later, I was finally home.

SQ – Singapore to Melbourne

Going back was a hard thing. I kept gulping, knowing that it won’t be easy to see them all together in the same place. Thank God I was still nursing a hangover and was too tired trying the act like my 20s in my 30s. I tried to sleep on the flight back but the lady beside me kept judging my tv choice: sex scene in STAC, the sex scene in GIRLS, and sex scenes in Insecure.

Do you know when they say your friends are the family that you choose? In my case, it’s kind of true.

Someone told me once that I don’t have many friends, and I agree. I can easily count the friends who know the real me, the ones who have seen me crying over crazy shit, someone who I can message in the middle of the night with my deepest insecurities. I don’t have many of them, but I would travel halfway across the world for them.

SQ – Melbourne to Singapore

My Singapore weekend officially started when the boarding lady, Tracy, asked me whether I was just stopping over in Singapore on my way to Indonesia. I told her no, not this time.

This time I was flying to Singapore to spend the weekend with my best friends.

She then moved my seat so that I didn’t seat near the children’s area on the flight.

I thanked her profoundly. There’s nothing worse than sitting near crying babies on a flight. Lucky me! Or so I thought. But not so much, apparently, I would be flying with a rugby little league to Singapore.

I would take one crying baby over twenty unshowered, hormone-driven teenage boys who are traveling somewhere to compete. F&@#!

SQ Seat 58A 1.31 PM

I am on way to Narita. To Tokyo. To Japan. The last time I was there was in 2015. Less than 2 years ago, but with my constant yearning about Japan, it feels like a lifetime away.

We reached Singapore a couple of hours behind schedule. We headed straight to the food court for some chicken rice and teh-o.

I tried to book a transit hotel but it was full. Lack of plan on our part.

Ended up Ninja sleeping on the waiting room seat near the gate.

It was uncomfortable with occasionally being woken up by people onboarding and once by the Indian song played by the janitor.

A couple of dreams later — including the last one being unable to walk due to sharp pain in my tight and complaining it to Amma — I woke up to a real sharp pain because of the ninja style sleeping.

Having had enough with the sleeping, we decided to take shower in the lounge by paying $16 each at 5.10 AM.

It turned out to be the best thing we agreed on today.

I felt so much better and much more alive, relatively happier, and kind. I guess it’s true that they say nothing like a hot shower can’t fix. Feeling much lighter. We walked around and had kopi team breakfast: butter sugar toast and iced-lemon tea for Fafa, half boiled eggs and another teh-o for me.

We walked around and stopped at Starbucks to satiate my year long craving of Starbucks’ moist almond cake. I think they don’t carry it anymore 😞. Every time I tried to get it none of Singapore Starbucks have it. I think that’s officially become a memory from the past. RIP almond cake.