<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6487405605563338936</id><updated>2011-11-11T01:38:07.324+07:00</updated><category term='berbahasa'/><category term='menulis'/><category term='menjadi Tiara'/><title type='text'>Belajar Tiara</title><subtitle type='html'>menulis, berbahasa, menjadi Tiara</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tiara1603.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6487405605563338936/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tiara1603.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Little Miss Tiara</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-orSO-SFgI2k/TqlO7n3UTFI/AAAAAAAABng/THfuPGFi-PE/s220/Photo%2B319.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>7</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6487405605563338936.post-7450035547549835073</id><published>2011-07-13T20:05:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2011-07-13T20:05:37.532+07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='menjadi Tiara'/><title type='text'>homesick</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://data.whicdn.com/images/11903297/tumblr_lemu3gwJZh1qfqvobo1_400_large_large.jpg?1310500423" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="265" src="http://data.whicdn.com/images/11903297/tumblr_lemu3gwJZh1qfqvobo1_400_large_large.jpg?1310500423" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;adalah aneh untuk seseorang yang selama hidup selalu tinggal di rumah bersama orangtua (biar rumahnya pindah-pindah) untuk merasa homesick, apalagi saat saya menulis ini, saya sedang berada di kamar yang selama bertahun-tahun saya tempati, bagian dari rumah yang saya tempati bersama orang tua selama bertahun-tahun juga.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Saya kangen sastra :(&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Mungkin saya kangen temen-temen saya, mungkin saya kangen bonbin, atau bangcok, atau jembud, atau DPR, atau loker (yang sekarang sama sekali rata dengan tanah), mungkin sekali saya rindu suasana kekeluargaannya...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Saya rindu berlama-lama di kampus sampai langit berubah merah, saya rindu&amp;nbsp;duduk melingkar dan bercakap tentang everything and nothin; kadang saya cuma mengamati, kadng saya ikutan spice up the conversation, apapun yang saya lakukan, twas so homey... just right where I belong.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Bukannya kampus atau temen-temen yang sekarang nggak asik, tapi saya rindu sastra... entah apa yang saya rindukan... rindu sastra, rindu sekali... bahkan saya rindu pelajaran-pelajarannya, pelajaran-pelajaran yang mungkin terdengar aneh bagi telinga awam; sejarah pemikiran prancis? sastra banding?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Saya kangen sekali, saya homesick... saya kangen gerombolan wanita girly yang semacam shopaholic... saya rindu gerombolan yang suka mendadak piknik, saya rindu gerombolan bodoh saya... saya rindu, rindu sekali... saya homesick.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;A house is not a home... bukan rumah yang saya rindukan, tapi "rumah". Bukannya rumah saya nggak me-"rumah", atau tempat baru saya nggak terasa seperti "rumah" tapi ada beberapa hal yang nggak bisa dicari dan ditemu di sembarang tempat... ah sastra saya, saya cinta, saya rindu...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6487405605563338936-7450035547549835073?l=tiara1603.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tiara1603.blogspot.com/feeds/7450035547549835073/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6487405605563338936&amp;postID=7450035547549835073' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6487405605563338936/posts/default/7450035547549835073'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6487405605563338936/posts/default/7450035547549835073'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tiara1603.blogspot.com/2011/07/homesick.html' title='homesick'/><author><name>Little Miss Tiara</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-orSO-SFgI2k/TqlO7n3UTFI/AAAAAAAABng/THfuPGFi-PE/s220/Photo%2B319.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6487405605563338936.post-9139596489744015892</id><published>2011-04-22T19:59:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2011-04-22T19:59:26.885+07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='menjadi Tiara'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='berbahasa'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='menulis'/><title type='text'>Pada suatu ketika</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://data.whicdn.com/images/8997312/img_4864_redigerad-1_143959833_large.jpg?1303323539" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://data.whicdn.com/images/8997312/img_4864_redigerad-1_143959833_large.jpg?1303323539" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"&gt;Ah... udah lama banget ga ada yang nulis disini... semacam rindu menulis dan bercerita, thank goodness for this place. Kali ini, saya bukan akan cerita tentang diri sendiri. Ya, sedikit banyak ada bagian saya disini, tapi tokoh utamanya bukan saya...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"&gt;Saya punya saudara di Bandung, yang tiap ada kesempatan/uang lebih/liburan saya kunjungi. Rumahnya di perumahan di dataran tinggi, di belakang perumahan ada bukit dan di (balik?) bukit itu ada perkampungan. Saya sendiri belom pernah mengunjungi perkampungan itu, ya... selama ini Dago dan jalan-jalan di tengah kota bandung jauh lebih menarik perhatian saya.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"&gt;Ada satu hal yang bikin saya risih di rumah saudara saya itu; Adzan. Bukan, saya bukan nggak suka dengan suara adzan, itu bagian dari hidup kita yang hidup di Indonesia. Siapapun, muslim atau bukan pasti mendengar adzan tiap hari dari masjid-masjid terdekat.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"&gt;Nah, adzan dari salah satu masjid terdekat dengan rumah Saudara saya inilah yang bikin saya risih. Adzannya kayak nggak niat, kayak anak kecil yang males-malesan, nadanya diseret-seret. Saya kesal, karena menurut saya, Adzan itu panggilan Tuhan buat umatNya, harusnya merdu dan sepenuh hati. Saya heran, apa nggak ada orang lain di kampung itu yang bisa Adzan? Sampai harus anak kecil yang nggak niat gitu yang adzan?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"&gt;Tahun kemarin saya kesana lagi, dan mendengar Adzan lagi. Adzan yang sama, anak kecil yang sama, suara males-malesan yang sama, nada diseret-seret yang sama. Lalu saya berhenti sejenak untuk berpikir dan mendengarkan Adzan itu dengan lebih seksama.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"&gt;It's been years, masak iya anak kecil itu nggak tumbuh juga? Masak iya nggak ada yang ngajarin dia gimana caranya Adzan yang baik dan benar? Sampai saya mendapati fakta bahwa ternyata yang Adzan itu bukan anak kecil, tapi seorang dewasa yang punya kekurangan.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"&gt;Malu. Malu sekali.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"&gt;Dia yang saya hina itu, dalam segala kekurangan dan keterbatasannya tetap bersemangat mengingatkan seluruh kampung untuk menghadap tepat waktu. Sesuatu yang bahkan saya sendiri nggak sering lakukan. Cintanya pada Tuhannya sangat mungkin jauh lebih besar daripada saya. Nada malas-malasan diseret-seret itu sangat mungkin sebenarnya adalah seruan cinta penuh semangat.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"&gt;Tiba-tiba, Adzan itu jadi merdu sekali. Ada manifestasi cinta seseorang pada penciptaNya yang menggebu-gebu disana. Sekaligus mengajak saudara-saudaranya untuk bersama-sama mencintai Tuhannya.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"&gt;Jadi inget lagunya Sherina, lihatlah lebih dekat.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"&gt;Lihat segalanya lebih dekat, dan kau akan mengerti...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"&gt;Cuma karena dia menggunakan bahasa yang berbeda, bukan berarti maknanya tidak sama.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6487405605563338936-9139596489744015892?l=tiara1603.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tiara1603.blogspot.com/feeds/9139596489744015892/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6487405605563338936&amp;postID=9139596489744015892' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6487405605563338936/posts/default/9139596489744015892'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6487405605563338936/posts/default/9139596489744015892'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tiara1603.blogspot.com/2011/04/pada-suatu-ketika.html' title='Pada suatu ketika'/><author><name>Little Miss Tiara</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-orSO-SFgI2k/TqlO7n3UTFI/AAAAAAAABng/THfuPGFi-PE/s220/Photo%2B319.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6487405605563338936.post-6384227021629503936</id><published>2011-03-22T20:01:00.002+07:00</published><updated>2011-03-22T20:21:32.627+07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='menulis'/><title type='text'>:(</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_9BF1f65mn-Y/TYidkinCrkI/AAAAAAAABbY/VBlWLnQoyto/s1600-h/tumblr_lidljmSI6L1qgujfno1_400%5B5%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="tumblr_lidljmSI6L1qgujfno1_400" border="0" height="256" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_9BF1f65mn-Y/TYidlkDtMRI/AAAAAAAABbc/fixKgNbDlCo/tumblr_lidljmSI6L1qgujfno1_400_thumb%5B3%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="tumblr_lidljmSI6L1qgujfno1_400" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;when he was around, I kinda don’t need this blog. Whenever I have story to share, I’ll come to him first, I love his reaction, always so excited to anything I tell him. Whenever I create something new, he was the first one I will show it to, before then showing it off to the world.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Now that he’s gone, I’m kinda lost.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;he was always there, at the corner, watching me, and maybe now, he still does, who knows? But now he’s invisible, i can not find him, can not see him, can not talk to him and a huge part of me is missing, along with him.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Not that I blame him for this feeling I am feeling right now, my bad, I shouldn’t have put on the expectations too high, I’ve learnt that to gain more is to expect less. I crossed the line, I stepped over the limit, and so here I am now, kinda heartbroken and lost.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I don’t blame him for this, again, I have to tell you, world.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I don’t understand why he disappears, but I believe he has a good reason for this. Still, remembering the days and nights that spent never without one another, this is kinda hard. He’s something I’ve gotten used to be a part of my days, we doesn’t necessarily need to talk, knowing that he’s there is enough. I mean, he could be just doing anything, and I could be falling asleep during the talk but it was never a problem, because I know when I woke up, when he's done with what he's doing we'll have a nice conversation again, but not now, not anymore.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I lost someone so dear, I don’t even want to think about what feeling do I feel about him. I don’t even want to specify is he a friend or more for me, I just don’t need to add the confusion, right?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;But if I am to confess, then he is someone important, really important. Someone so dear I can imagine having a secret adventure with. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;All those long talks we had, all those are so memorable, and full of lessons. I was about to tell him that I’ve figured why his ex still can’t let him go, because he’s so dear, so lovable. So lovable that I might fall for him any second if he lets me, maybe I won’t even need his permission, maybe I already did. But what’s the use knowing it now? He’s gone anyway.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I want him to come back, of course. And then explain to me where did he go, and why, and say that he won’t ever do that anymore. But maybe, that’s a wishful thinking, or and endless dreaming.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I lalala you. You know that, right?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6487405605563338936-6384227021629503936?l=tiara1603.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tiara1603.blogspot.com/feeds/6384227021629503936/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6487405605563338936&amp;postID=6384227021629503936' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6487405605563338936/posts/default/6384227021629503936'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6487405605563338936/posts/default/6384227021629503936'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tiara1603.blogspot.com/2011/03/blog-post.html' title=':('/><author><name>Little Miss Tiara</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-orSO-SFgI2k/TqlO7n3UTFI/AAAAAAAABng/THfuPGFi-PE/s220/Photo%2B319.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh4.ggpht.com/_9BF1f65mn-Y/TYidlkDtMRI/AAAAAAAABbc/fixKgNbDlCo/s72-c/tumblr_lidljmSI6L1qgujfno1_400_thumb%5B3%5D.jpg?imgmax=800' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6487405605563338936.post-2034045597936082570</id><published>2011-02-26T17:58:00.007+07:00</published><updated>2011-02-26T20:51:07.018+07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='menjadi Tiara'/><title type='text'>of the future</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;What do you want to be when you grow up?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;No, walaupun serupa, tapi blog post kali ini beda dari postingan sebelumnya... Kalo postingan sebelumnya adalah personal, maka ini adalah... lebih personal lagi (if possible). Ketika mebayangkan tentang masa depan, future, yang ada di otak saya adalah... keluarga.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Saya mau jadi istri, lalu jadi mama.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Is that even too much to ask?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-AjL0AavtlEM/TWjkQW2DkGI/AAAAAAAABZQ/9NAhYiBk6XQ/s1600/worldend+-+Copy.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-AjL0AavtlEM/TWjkQW2DkGI/AAAAAAAABZQ/9NAhYiBk6XQ/s400/worldend+-+Copy.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;The following will be in english, I'm having hard time expressing myself in Bahasa, seriously! &amp;gt;_&amp;lt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm a hopelessly romantic girl. Some other stronger girls maybe will laugh at me, at my need to have someone to lean on. But really, what I want is a wedding, a day marking someone agreed to be with me, bearing all the consequences. Someone I can run to, someone I spend my rest of my life with, someone I can share everything with, someone to build the future with.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;There, I've said it. So my biggest fear is for those dreams to not happen. What if I never get a chance to marry anyone? What if I can't make anybody loves me? What if nobody wants to spend the rest of his life with me? What if I ended up alone?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Ah... Pemikiran-pemikiran buruk tidak boleh terlalu sering dipikirkan, but once in a while, it does strike, doesn't it?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://data.whicdn.com/images/7317007/tumblr_lgxepdIGGw1qc6qjvo1_500_large.jpg?1298227692" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="265" src="http://data.whicdn.com/images/7317007/tumblr_lgxepdIGGw1qc6qjvo1_500_large.jpg?1298227692" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;What a happy day for me is a day start with someone by my side, lazy little smile and maybe snuggled up some more just because we can't get enough of each other warmth. A lazy breakfast, to start a slow, steady day, okay... maybe someday will be rushy and crazy but that wouldn't be mattered, we have each other.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I'll cook, yes, I'll make breakfast while he takes his bath, maybe I would join too, in one of the lazy days because sure thing it'll be a long bath with both of us, and that would mean he'll be late for work and his boss would be angry and we wouldn't want that. Wait, on second thought, maybe he should be his own boss, yes? Just like me. So instead of having a boss fuming up because he's late, we can put up a puppy eyes if his customer isn't quite pleased, there I can help him, puppy eyes is my specialty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The breakfast would be simple, I hope he won't mind. What about a simple toast? And a hot coffee or chocolate? Or tea? in the morning and little talk about the plans of what to do today. Yeah, that sounds about right for me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://26.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lh640s7a3b1qgmdj7o1_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;And once the hubby is gone to work, I'll have the day to clean the house and do my own business, and preparing lunch (and dinner), go to the grocery store and off to do some shopping. Maybe once in a while, I'll get to catch up with my friends, old friends, new friends, and have some girly (or more likely 'womanly') talk. I know I'll ramble, with dreamy eyes about my hubby. How proud I am about him, how he can handle me in my weird mood -because I can be reaaaaally annoying in my worst mood, and maybe we'll exchange recipes, food, or something else (like some "how to tame a man &lt;s&gt;in bed&lt;/s&gt;" tricks).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://26.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lh640s7a3b1qgmdj7o1_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="222" src="http://26.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lh640s7a3b1qgmdj7o1_500.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I'll work at home, I'll do what I love to do, just like what hubby does; because that way we'll be happy. A job shouldn't be burdening, right? I want to create something, I still want to open up a little shoppee for my artwork, I imagine myself being in love over and over and over again with this man, and the inspiration gonna be endless, flowing just like a river without winter, never frozen, never dried. If I can dream a little more then I would pray really hard for a little cafery, where people can chill out and just sit for hours, but we'll talk about this later in some other post.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I'll prepare dinner, I'll wait for him to come back home (or maybe he'll just have to do his job at home -wonder if it'll work, I'll come and distract him every time, though... because I'll miss him, and come to his room and voila! No work is done, lol. Okay, so maybe I need to learn more about self-control). One of the days, I might be too lazy and will just call him to bring food home, or we'll call a delivery service, or we'll go to our favorite restaurant in town and have a nice dine together OR we'll pay a visit to our parents' houses -we'll surely get some food there, right? lol.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Isn't that simple? My dreams? A whole day filled with love, on repeat, forever, with little surprises everywhere (you see... like 'surprise! you're gonna be a papa!' or 'suprise! RAAWR...' -ha!).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I don't dream of huge mansion with thousand of maids who will bow to me when I passed by them, I don't think I'll need a chauffeur, maybe a maid would help me cleaning up but that is all I need. I'm not gonna whine for huge diamond rings, though I won't mind receiving it.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I love little, simple happiness, like hugging and twirling around the room before heading off to bed, humming to each other songs only us understand (because most of the time it would be off-tune but none of us would be bothered by it). Like a little dance in the kitchen with our smiles ear to ear, because I'll need to learn to cook more, because I love spending times in the kitchen, and because I know, one way or another he would sneakily hug me from behind and&amp;nbsp;distract&amp;nbsp;me and maybe we'll end up with burnt inedible food, it's okay, there are heaps of restaurants out there, right? I won't even ask for thousands of roses, I'll pick a single sunflower instead. Sure a sunflower field would be great, but some sunflowers at the backyard would be enough.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;You know, even if I can't get the maid, the diamond ring, or the little dance, or the sunflower, that would still be more than enough for this little lady&amp;nbsp;(one way or another, I'll get what I want anyway -I'm good at whining and persuading people, alright)&amp;nbsp;only to have someone by her side for her to love, one who loves her endlessly.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Oh, but please don't forget the late night snack.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6487405605563338936-2034045597936082570?l=tiara1603.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tiara1603.blogspot.com/feeds/2034045597936082570/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6487405605563338936&amp;postID=2034045597936082570' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6487405605563338936/posts/default/2034045597936082570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6487405605563338936/posts/default/2034045597936082570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tiara1603.blogspot.com/2011/02/of-future.html' title='of the future'/><author><name>Little Miss Tiara</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-orSO-SFgI2k/TqlO7n3UTFI/AAAAAAAABng/THfuPGFi-PE/s220/Photo%2B319.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-AjL0AavtlEM/TWjkQW2DkGI/AAAAAAAABZQ/9NAhYiBk6XQ/s72-c/worldend+-+Copy.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6487405605563338936.post-6048208081876429000</id><published>2011-01-28T20:47:00.002+07:00</published><updated>2011-01-28T20:53:10.271+07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='menjadi Tiara'/><title type='text'>saya?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_9BF1f65mn-Y/TULI6--ybzI/AAAAAAAABVw/y7Xazpmk6K0/s1600-h/27012011278%5B8%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img align="right" alt="27012011278" border="0" height="225" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_9BF1f65mn-Y/TULI7pUjC-I/AAAAAAAABV0/mDXV6gmA3Kk/27012011278_thumb%5B6%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; display: inline; margin: 10px 10px 10px 15px;" title="27012011278" width="300" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Tiara, 21 Tahun (22 besok maret – mau kasih kado?), Sarjana Sastra, lulusan tahun 2010, senang menggambar dan menabung, kadang menolong orang tua, single, pengangguran dengan impian.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Perkenalan tadi udah cukup menjelaskan belom sih? Faktanya, saya sudah lulus kuliah dan masih nggak tau mau jadi apa.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Good thing is saya udah lulus kuliah, masalahnya adalah, selepasnya toga dari kepala saya, realization hit, “dang, aku mau jadi apa?!” Momen lulus kuliah itu semacam tamparan, masa kuliah itu menyenangkan, comfort zone yang amat sangat; dikelilingi teman-teman sepanjang hari dengan jalan yang udah ditentukan kemana arahnya; ya, ke hari wisuda itu.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Nah sekarang, udah lulus, mau jadi apa? Semacam mengulang lagu yang bertahun-tahun lalu akrab di telinga, “Susan, kalo gede mau jadi apa?” Inget ga betapa gampang ngejawab pertanyaan itu beberapa tahun lalu? Jawabannya bebas banget, asitek, dokter, guru TK, the possibility is endless, sekarang?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Sekarang harus mikir beribu kali sebelum ngejawab, karena itu jalan yang kita pilih buat hidup. Mungkin ekstrim kalo bilang itu pilihan seumur hidup, karena kerja kantoran mungkin dipecat, mungkin bosen lalu keluar, karena buka bisnis mungkin gagal, mungkin bangkrut, tapi mungkin juga sukses.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I’m an overthinker, I overthink. Kadang, saya berpikir berlebihan sebelum akhirnya melakukan sesuatu, tapi semakin kesini, semakin saya menyadari, bahwa yang penting lakukan saja apa yang mau kamu lakukan, mumpung masih ada waktu. Ambil semua kesempatan, mungkin sedikit terlalu kompulsif, mungkin akan ada yang salah along the way, mungkin akan ada yang disesali, tapi selalu, untuk saya; lebih baik menyesali apa yang kita lakukan daripada apa yang tidak kita lakukan.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Clubbbing? Rokok? Tattoo? Alkohol? Mungkin salah, tapi disitu ada pelajaran. Take the chance, you won’t know what kind of rollercoaster ride you might be in. Pemikiran ini mungkin salah, mungkin sangat salah, mungkin 5 tahun lagi saya akan membaca postingan ini dan geleng-geleng kepala akan pola pikir diri sendiri. Manusia berubah, saya juga, dia juga, kamu juga, mereka juga. Satu yang saya percaya benar, kamu tak akan pernah sampai tujuan hanya dengan diam menunggu. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Perjalanannya mungkin bisa dibilang kayak berkali-kali naik bis untuk sampe tujuan, bis yang satu mengantarmu ke satu &lt;em&gt;bus-stop&lt;/em&gt;, dilanjutkan dengan bis lain, sampai pada akhirnya kamu sampe tujuan. Karena nggak semua orang punya tujuan yang bisa dicapai dengan cuma naik bis satu kali.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Sekarang, saya mau jadi apa? Ah, saya mau jadi saya, perjalanan mencari ke-saya-an ini belum berakhir, tapi dengan melakukan apa yang saya suka, memilih apa yang saya mau, saya yakin secepatnya akan saya temukan ;) toh, tujuan dari perjalanan ini adalah pelajaran sepanjang perjalanannya.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6487405605563338936-6048208081876429000?l=tiara1603.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tiara1603.blogspot.com/feeds/6048208081876429000/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6487405605563338936&amp;postID=6048208081876429000' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6487405605563338936/posts/default/6048208081876429000'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6487405605563338936/posts/default/6048208081876429000'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tiara1603.blogspot.com/2011/01/saya.html' title='saya?'/><author><name>Little Miss Tiara</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-orSO-SFgI2k/TqlO7n3UTFI/AAAAAAAABng/THfuPGFi-PE/s220/Photo%2B319.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh4.ggpht.com/_9BF1f65mn-Y/TULI7pUjC-I/AAAAAAAABV0/mDXV6gmA3Kk/s72-c/27012011278_thumb%5B6%5D.jpg?imgmax=800' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6487405605563338936.post-8224377179137592727</id><published>2010-12-29T09:55:00.004+07:00</published><updated>2010-12-30T09:02:36.914+07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='menjadi Tiara'/><title type='text'>layang-layang</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Tiara dan seorang sahabat pergi ke festival layang-layang nasional di pantai… uhm… something, lupa namanya, beberapa waktu yang lalu. Ah, layang-layang, pantai, teman… wonderful day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_9BF1f65mn-Y/TRqjGXNWkAI/AAAAAAAABUk/8m8itpSIPtg/s1600-h/A002704-R1-17-23A%20copy%5B77%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img align="left" alt="A002704-R1-17-23A copy" border="0" height="348" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_9BF1f65mn-Y/TRqjHsSbnEI/AAAAAAAABUo/kCMj3I97ddA/A002704-R1-17-23A%20copy_thumb%5B75%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: inline; margin: 0px 10px 0px 0px;" title="A002704-R1-17-23A copy" width="297" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;fly, fly high darling, fly as high as you can      &lt;br /&gt;no need to worry about falling, it will all be fine&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Hari itu, setelah sekian lama, Tiara ketemu lagi dengan banyak sekali layang-layang. Warna warni, banyak rupa, dan mereka semua sedang berias, mempercantik diri, sekaligus bersiap terbang, menari, mengisi langit biar jadi warna-warni.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Layang-layang, dibuat hati-hati sepenuh hati, harus seimbang karena kalau tidak dia tak akan bisa terbang, pun terbang pasti segera jatuh ke tanah. Layang-layang itu kita, layang-layang itu saya; ya, salah satu dari mereka. Pergi sekolah setiap pagi, dengan bekal di tangan kiri dan buku-buku tersusun rapi. Tiap pagi dikecup manis, didoakan agar suatu hari nanti bisa terbang tinggi. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Diserut hati-hati tiap bilah bambunya, dipilih yang terbaik kertasnya, didandani yang cantik warna-warninya. Diawasi belajarnya, diamati tidurnya, dirawat sakitnya; kita, layang-layang.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Ketika dirasa cukup cantik, ketika dirasa cukup kuat, setelah diuji berkali-kali, para pelayang melepaskan gulungan senarnya, membiarkan layang-layang mereka menyerbu angin kencang, biar terbang. Itu kita, itu kita, itu kita. Waktu aku lihat para layang-layang itu untuk pertama kali menantang angin dan lalu terbang tinggi, mungkin itu rasanya orangtua melepas anaknya untuk mandiri, untuk jadi orang yang membahagiakan, karena layang-layang yang menghias langit itu pun membawa tawa.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Kadang, beberapa layang-layang jatuh lagi ke tanah, pelayang menangkapnya, memperbaiki dan mengajaknya terbang lagi. Kita sama, tak selalu terbang tinggi, kadang jatuh dan tersungkur, tapi semua akan baik-baik saja. Pun saat layang-layang warna-warni itu terbang tinggi, pelayang selalu memegang erat senarnya, mengatur terbangnya; aku lihat disana, orangtua yang berdoa semoga anaknya baik-baik saja, orangtua yang mengamati dan berjaga, kalau-kalau kesayangannya oleng dan jatuh maka mereka akan selalu ada disana untuk menyelamatkannya.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Beberapa layang-layang lain justru putus dan pergi bersama angin; hmm… mungkin mereka jatuh cinta, mungkin layang-layang itu teperdaya rayuan angin yang menyejukkan, yang membawanya terbang tinggi. Seperti kita yang lupa dunia ketika dimabuk asmara? Seperti kita yang lupa dunia ketika berkuasa dan jadi raja. Kadang dibiarkan, tapi seringkali pelayang mengejar, menangkap dan membawanya pulang meski dia tak bisa lagi terbang, diperbaiki hati-hati, dipasangi senar lagi, biar besok bisa terbang lagi…&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;layang-layang itu kita, jangan takut terbang tinggi, tabrak saja angin itu karena itu yang akan membawamu makin tinggi. &lt;em&gt;What does not kill me makes me stronger&lt;/em&gt; kata Nietszche. Apa yang tidak membunuhmu hanya akan membuatmu lebih kuat. Angin kencang yang tidak merobek sayapmu, akan membawamu lebih tinggi :) jadi ayo terbang!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6487405605563338936-8224377179137592727?l=tiara1603.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tiara1603.blogspot.com/feeds/8224377179137592727/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6487405605563338936&amp;postID=8224377179137592727' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6487405605563338936/posts/default/8224377179137592727'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6487405605563338936/posts/default/8224377179137592727'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tiara1603.blogspot.com/2010/12/layang-layang.html' title='layang-layang'/><author><name>Little Miss Tiara</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-orSO-SFgI2k/TqlO7n3UTFI/AAAAAAAABng/THfuPGFi-PE/s220/Photo%2B319.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh4.ggpht.com/_9BF1f65mn-Y/TRqjHsSbnEI/AAAAAAAABUo/kCMj3I97ddA/s72-c/A002704-R1-17-23A%20copy_thumb%5B75%5D.jpg?imgmax=800' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6487405605563338936.post-613171248244188753</id><published>2010-12-29T07:54:00.003+07:00</published><updated>2010-12-29T09:18:18.033+07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='menulis'/><title type='text'>belajar tiara?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://28.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_l9szx8elOE1qaxsk5o1_400.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://28.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_l9szx8elOE1qaxsk5o1_400.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blog baru lagi? Ini entah blog keberapa. Blog ini, sebenarnya nggak beda-beda amat dibanding blog Tiara yang lainnya kecuali disini akan lebih banyak pikiran yang tertuang dibanding cerita tentang kejadian sehari-hari (kalo mau baca yang itu, visit &lt;a href="http://littletiara.blogspot.com/"&gt;littletiara&lt;/a&gt;).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Mungkin akan sedikit lebih personal, berbagi pikiran dan tempat saya menuangkan ide-ide yang sering sekali hadir di kepala.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Oh, ya... dan Tiara akan berusaha sebaik mungkin menulis dalam bahasa Indonesia disini. Uhm... agak susah dilakukan apalagi setelah sekian lama nulis blog dalam bahasa asing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Maka itulah kenapa &lt;i&gt;"BELAJAR TIARA; menulis, berbahasa, menjadi tiara"&lt;/i&gt;, ini tempat untuk saya belajar menulis dengan menggunakan kata bahasa saya untuk menemukan diri sendiri, untuk menjadi Tiara yang se-Tiara mungkin. Maka selamat mengamati, dan (semoga akan) berinteraksi.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Blog ini akan dibagi menjadi tiga label;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;menulis&lt;/b&gt;: untuk tulisan-tulisan nggak penting macam sambutan ini, entah kedepannya akan ada apa lagi.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;berbahasa&lt;/b&gt;: untuk cerita-cerita fiktif yang biasanya datang ke pikiran Tiara&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;menjadi Tiara&lt;/b&gt;: untuk pemikiran Tiara tentang apapun di dunianya.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Anyway, terimakasih untuk kunjungannya, jangan lupa datang lagi :) postingan pertama akan segera hadir di meja anda beberapa saat lagi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6487405605563338936-613171248244188753?l=tiara1603.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tiara1603.blogspot.com/feeds/613171248244188753/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6487405605563338936&amp;postID=613171248244188753' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6487405605563338936/posts/default/613171248244188753'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6487405605563338936/posts/default/613171248244188753'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tiara1603.blogspot.com/2010/12/belajar-tiara.html' title='belajar tiara?'/><author><name>Little Miss Tiara</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-orSO-SFgI2k/TqlO7n3UTFI/AAAAAAAABng/THfuPGFi-PE/s220/Photo%2B319.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
