Quiet Winter

Just Always Smile and Seize the Day^^

[heavenlydomains]

Marbel In the Bottle.

In Ramune bottle there's a marbel that make you hard to drink. It like an obstacle in real life that you need to put some efforts to get what you want.

But, every time I put some efforts in everything, nobody would apreciate me or even notice since I already became public enemy.

So, is there anything I can do?

The answer is: "REPAY THEM BY MY WORKS"

[heavenlydomains]

My Sentence Behind the Window

I always see her. Almost every afternoon, she passes by the apartment, walking alone. She’s the type who is so genuinely pure—not trying to be cute, but she just has this clear aura that brings calm every time she appears.

Honestly, if I just think logically, I could get her. She’s never with anyone. She’s not guarded, there’s no drama. If I wanted to, I’d just have to walk up, make small talk, and the rest is just effort. I have the opportunity. That’s a fact.

But every time that intention rises, a heavy weight pulls me back.

Her, with all the innocence she carries, is exactly like the old me. She is a reflection of my untouched potential, my uncomplicated ambitions from years ago. She is me before all this disappointment happened, before I felt shattered by the things I now regret.

So, when I look at her, I don't just see her. I see my most ideal self—and then I compare that to the me I am now, the one full of failure and regret.

I feel like the me of today is stained. I don't want to "contaminate" that purity with the me I am now. I let her pass, I let the opportunity fade, not because I lack confidence or I’m incapable. But because deep down, I know this is the justice I have to serve.

This is the price I have to pay.

"It's not about being unworthy," I whisper to the mirror reflecting my regret-filled eyes,

"It’s not unworthiness, it is a punishment."

[heavenlydomains]

Butterfly Era?

The gentle afternoon breeze felt like a welcome as I made my way back to the apartment. After a short walk from the shop, I finally got there. Just as my hand went for the gate, I saw her on the stairs above. She was walking down, her long hair flowing around her shoulders, wearing a comfy long-sleeved shirt and a pair of trousers.

She looked a little different today. The casual, everyday look was gone, replaced by something that just hit me. A warm smile spread across her face as our eyes met. It was a silent greeting, and I smiled back. There was something in that look that felt so close, but also a million miles away. I gave a quick nod, then headed straight to my room, without another word.

Once the door was shut, my mind started racing. Why did that tiny moment feel so huge? Was this the start of something new? Those questions kept playing over and over in my head. I had a feeling the days to come—even with our separate teaching internships—would bring a lot more surprises, especially since we were still living under the same roof.

[heavenlydomains]

it was a greatest thing conversation. The conversation took ton of months break and came back with a final 'have a nice day.' The end. I cannot stop laughing while you just came by as one pleases.

[heavenlydomains]

“A Mirror from Hell That Once Knew Light”

You know what hurts the most about being someone like me?

It’s not the curse. Not the loneliness.

It’s you.

The way you look at the world—untainted, unburdened. That laugh of yours, untouched by anything cruel.

You are something… familiar.

Like a mirror. Like a reflection of me, from long ago, before all this.

"You're familiar like my mirror years ago."

Funny, isn’t it? I, the corrupted one, obsessed not with sin— but with something I can never touch.

I could destroy everything I want.

But not you.

Because in you, I see the last proof that I wasn’t always a monster.

So here I stand. Close, but never reaching. Watching, but never claiming.

Because my greatest temptation isn't sin— it's innocence... forever out of reach.

[heavenlydomains]

it's probably the last quartal, since you never respond my chat so i'll tell this once time. "thank you"

[heavenlydomains]

[Liberation of Mind - A Journey]

[Scene 1 - 2nd Year of High School] (Classroom. Idris sits in the middle row, staring at the blackboard with deep thought. The teacher is explaining the lesson, but something bothers him. He raises his hand.)

Idris: "Sir, if this theory is correct, what if we consider a different perspective? Is there a possibility that this theory has flaws?"

(The room falls silent. The teacher pauses, then narrows his eyes, feeling cornered. Some students suppress their laughter.)

Teacher: "That’s a strange question. It seems like you're overthinking unnecessary things. Just focus on what I teach, don’t act too smart."

(Other students laugh. Idris lowers his head, his face turning red. From that day on, he chooses silence. He stops asking, stops thinking critically. Over time, his grades drop, and his confidence fades.)

[Scene 2 - University Orientation] (School auditorium. University representatives are speaking in front of students about the competition for college admission. Their words strike a chord with Idris.)

University Representative: "The acceptance rate for our architecture program is only around 5%. The competition is fierce, and only the best can get in."

(Idris feels something stir within him. A challenge. For the first time in a long while, he wants to fight again.)

[Scene 3 - Counseling Session] (Counseling room. Several students sit in line, waiting for their turn. When it's Idris's turn, he takes a deep breath.)

Counselor: "Alright, what are your plans for college?"

Idris: (in a low voice) "I want to study architecture."

(Silence. Some students suppress their laughter, some immediately mock him.)

Other Student: "Hah? You? Architecture? No way! Your grades dropped, are you even sure you can do it?"

(Idris feels a wave of doubt creeping back in. But after the session ends, the counselor calls him back to the room.)

Counselor: "Why are you hesitating? What are you afraid of? Tell me everything."

(That’s when everything pours out—the trauma, the fear, the social rejection. The counselor listens quietly, then speaks.)

Counselor: "History has recorded many great thinkers who were rejected by their society. Galileo, Copernicus, Socrates—they were all seen as threats because they dared to think. But did they stop? No. They chose to keep going. The same applies to you. If you seek freedom of thought, you must be ready to face a world that dislikes it."

(Those words open something within Idris. For the first time, he sees his path clearly.)

[Scene 4 - Final Exams & Graduation] (Months later. Exam results are announced. Idris’s name stands at the top as the highest-ranking student.)

(The school falls silent. No one congratulates him. They just stare, their expressions unreadable. Jealous? Disbelieving? They choose to stay silent.)

(During the graduation ceremony, tradition dictates that the top-ranked student delivers the graduation speech.)

[Scene 5 - Graduation Speech] (Idris walks to the podium calmly. All eyes from students and teachers follow his steps. Some students whisper, others cross their arms as if indifferent. Idris stands tall in front of the microphone, takes a slow breath, and begins speaking in a flat tone.)

"Throughout history, humanity has always faced two choices: to think or to follow. Those who chose to think were often isolated, seen as threats, or even punished. Meanwhile, those who followed—without questioning, without rejecting—were welcomed by society with open arms.

During the Dark Ages, Galileo Galilei was condemned for saying that the Earth revolved around the Sun. At that time, truth was not something that could be accepted easily, especially when it contradicted deeply rooted dogmas. One interesting fact remains—truth remains truth, even if the world chooses to deny it.

The same applies to our environment. There are invisible boundaries that control us, not with chains, but with norms. We are taught to accept without questioning, to obey without thinking. Not because we are incapable, but because thinking is risky—the risk of being seen as different, of being punished with mockery and exclusion.

I have experienced it. Punished not for being wrong, but for asking. Mocked not for being ignorant, but for daring to question. So I chose the safer path—following, letting my thoughts wither away, until there was almost nothing left. And at that moment, I was no longer myself. I was merely a shadow of others' expectations.

However, as history has taught us, thought cannot be caged forever. There comes a point where one must choose: to remain a slave to norms or to rise above them.

Today, I stand here not as someone seeking validation. I stand here as a reminder—that the limitation of thought is not an inheritance to be accepted without question. That the dogma which binds us should not be passed down to the next generation. And that truth does not change, even when everyone chooses to close their eyes.

History has shown that those who limit thought are the ones who fear losing control. But history also proves that no boundary can restrain a free mind.

Today, I am not here to prove who is right or wrong. I am only here as a reminder... that truth does not need recognition, and free thought does not need permission."

(Idris pauses for a moment, gazing at the crowd with an expressionless face. The room is silent. No applause, no noise, only an unsettling stillness hanging in the air. Calmly, Idris turns around, stepping down from the podium, leaving them in silence.)

(As his steps grow distant from the podium, a faint voice from the corner of the room murmurs, almost like a whisper, "He's right.")

[heavenlydomains]

"Blueprint: the Journey"

Setyakie, a second-year high school student who once drifted through life without direction, found himself stopping in his tracks when he stumbled upon a renowned architecture magazine at a school art festival. As he flipped through the pages showcasing Zaha Hadid's futuristic designs, something inside him stirred. Though he had never thought about architecture before, that moment sparked a deep curiosity.

Without fully realizing it, Setyakie began searching for ways to immerse himself in the field. He joined painting and photography extracurricular activities, slowly sharpening his ability to capture lines, shapes, and light. However, the road wasn’t easy. His peers and even some teachers dismissed his ambitions, pointing out that his academic scores were only average and that getting into an architecture program required exceptional grades.

Instead of feeling discouraged, Setyakie turned their doubts into fuel for his determination. He was motivated by the thought of silencing their ridicule with his work. But his journey took another hit when he joined a preparatory course for university entrance exams. Among his classmates, there was someone who, despite holding a pencil for the first time, produced a sketch that was deemed the best. Seeing such natural talent made Setyakie feel a pang of insecurity. Unlike them, he wasn’t born with an innate gift for drawing. Yet, he reminded himself that everything he had achieved so far was the result of effort and perseverance, not talent alone.

When the announcement day finally arrived, Setyakie secured a place in a highly competitive architecture program through the national written exam. But his battle wasn’t over yet—he still had to face opposition at home. His parents, especially his father, strongly opposed his decision to pursue architecture. They worried about the limited number of architecture programs in technical universities in West Java and the financial burden of supporting him if he had to move away.

One evening, as a quiet response to his parents' concerns, Setyakie carefully sketched their family home—an heirloom from his paternal grandparents. When he presented the drawing, the atmosphere in the living room shifted. His father, who had been firm in his refusal, fell silent, his eyes scanning the details of the sketch that carried years of memories. After a long pause, he finally spoke. "Setyakie, if you study far from home, how much allowance do you think I can afford to give you every month?"

Hearing this, Setyakie felt a rush of emotions. Beneath his father’s lingering doubts, there was an unspoken acknowledgment of his determination. His mother, who had remained quiet until then, couldn’t hold back her tears—not out of sadness, but from pride in seeing her son grow and find his purpose.

With his parents’ blessing, Setyakie pushed forward. He dedicated himself to the preparatory course, honing his technical skills despite moments of doubt when comparing himself to his naturally talented peers. Yet, he held onto one truth: hard work would always carve a path forward.

Finally, the day of the exam results arrived. Without any dramatic hesitation, Setyakie checked his name on the acceptance list. He had done it. It was a triumph—not one of overwhelming celebration, but of quiet, deeply personal fulfillment.

The next day, with a backpack on his shoulders and a heart full of determination, Setyakie stepped onto the campus of the School of Architecture, Planning, and Policy Development (SAPPK) at the Bandung Institute of Technology. As he walked through the gates, he knew this was only the beginning of a long journey—one built not on natural talent, but on resilience, hard work, and an unwavering desire to create.

[heavenlydomains]

Unwritten Journey

Morning in Malang greets me with a thin mist still lingering on the streets. The cold air seeps in slowly, vastly different from the warmth of my hometown. I take a deep breath, letting the scent of damp earth and faint vehicle smoke blend into my lungs. This is the beginning of something new—a dream that once only existed in my mind.

I walk slowly, a small suitcase rolling beside me. Universitas Brawijaya stands before me, grand with buildings I once only saw in brochures and online pages. I used to imagine myself walking among those buildings, becoming part of an environment filled with future architects. Now that I'm here, something feels off within me.

On the train ride to Malang, I listened to "Gone, Gone, Gone" by Philip Phillips, allowing each lyric to unearth memories of the past. A long journey from middle school to high school, enduring the hardships of the pandemic, studying late into the night just to secure grades good enough for my dream university. But now, standing at the gates of this university, I ask myself—is this really what I’ve been chasing all along?

My feet carry me to a small coffee stall near the campus. A cup of black coffee steams before me, accompanied by a cigarette slowly burning away. I warm my hands around the cup, gazing at the mist-covered streets. I should feel satisfied, yet a small doubt lingers. I am in Malang, but not as an Architecture student. Fate led me to the Department of Architectural Engineering Education at UPI—not this campus, not this faculty.

I exhale deeply, letting the cigarette smoke blend into the morning air. Life is strange. Sometimes we run so far in pursuit of something, only to end up somewhere entirely different. But maybe, that doesn’t mean it's wrong. Maybe, it's just part of the journey we have to take.

I take another sip of coffee, letting its warmth settle in my throat. I still don’t know what will happen next, but for now, I just want to savor this morning in Malang, in silence, amid the slowly fading mist.

I stand up, slipping both hands into my jacket pockets. Slowly, I begin to walk, exploring the quiet campus streets. The tall trees along the sidewalks sway gently in the breeze. A few students have started arriving, some still dragging their suitcases like I did earlier, perhaps also searching for a place they can call home.

I glance at the main building, imagining the life I could have lived here if everything had gone as planned. Design discussions in class, exhausting model-building assignments, and sleepless nights finishing projects. But that is just an illusion. The reality is that I am elsewhere, living a different story.

My steps halt in front of a small park in the middle of campus. An empty wooden bench invites me. I sit down, letting my thoughts wander. Do dreams always have to come true exactly as we envision them? Or does the journey itself lead us to a place that fits us better?

I don’t have the answer right now. But I know one thing—I will keep walking, wherever this road takes me.

The sky slowly brightens. The mist covering the streets starts to dissolve, replaced by sunlight warming the pavement. I take another breath, this time lighter. Perhaps, in the end, it's not about where we are, but how we embrace every step along the way.

I stand up, adjusting my jacket. There is still so much I don’t know, still many stories waiting to be written. I leave the small park behind, stepping toward an unknown path. No matter where this road leads, I will keep moving forward, believing that every journey holds its own meaning.

[heavenlydomains]

Visiting...

I sat alone in a coffee shop near campus, a place usually crowded with engineering students. At other tables, they were chatting about assignments, joking about professors, or just complaining about lab work. But me? I just sat there, scrolling through my class WhatsApp group.

Photos from the gathering kept popping up on my phone screen. The glow of the bonfire, bursts of laughter, familiar faces that somehow felt more distant. They were having fun, singing together, and for some reason, in every single picture, I felt like a stranger. Like I wasn’t part of them anymore.

"Bro, why didn’t you come?" A message popped up in my private chat from a friend. I paused for a moment before typing the same answer I had repeated too many times: "My dad came to visit."

No reply. Maybe he was just asking for the sake of it. Or maybe he didn’t really care. I wasn’t sure. But in my head, heavier questions kept swirling:

"Should I have forced myself to go?" "Would they understand why I couldn’t come?" "Do they think I don’t care about being part of them?"

My dad had traveled all the way just to see me. That Saturday, he was supposed to accompany my mom for her dialysis, but he chose to make time to visit me in Bandung. And he didn’t even drive; he took public transportation all the way from Tasik to Bandung. I could imagine my mom sitting alone in the hospital, waiting for her turn, probably feeling lonelier than usual.

I took a deep breath.

I didn’t regret my decision. But still, the feeling lingered. I knew I had made the right choice. I knew there were more important things than a student gathering, but why did I still feel left out? Like I had lost something I could never get back?

After my dad said goodbye and headed home, it hit me. Today was Saturday. The day my mom had dialysis.

I rushed back to my apartment, but as soon as the door shut behind me, everything crashed down at once. Mom was at the hospital, alone. Dad had left her just to visit me. And me? I could only sit on my bed, feeling a heavy weight in my chest.

Tears fell before I could stop them. I grabbed my phone and called my brother, who was busy working on his thesis in Surakarta. As soon as she picked up, my voice trembled as I tried to explain everything. About Dad coming. About Mom being alone. About me not being able to do anything but feel guilty.

My brother was silent for a moment, then with a calm voice, she said, "Dad planned this carefully. He knew what he was doing, and he must have made sure everything was set for Mom. You don’t need to feel guilty."

I didn’t reply right away. There was a long pause before I let out a slow breath. His words made me feel a little calmer, but still, the feeling lingered.

I turned off my phone screen and placed it on the table. In front of me, a cup of coffee was starting to cool. I stirred it slowly, lit a cigarette, and took a deep drag. A thin trail of smoke rose, blending into the chilly night air. I tried to embrace the quiet, even though in my head, everything was still so loud.

[heavenlydomains]

"The Only One Who Stayed"

I have always thought that people come and go in life. They appear when they need something, then disappear without giving anything in return. I never minded that. I knew my role in this environment—someone who knows a lot, someone vocal, someone unafraid to state the facts, even if they make certain people uncomfortable.

And so, the facts I revealed made me an enemy to my entire class.

People started to distance themselves, avoiding eye contact, as if my very presence was a reminder of something they refused to acknowledge. I wasn’t surprised. I had expected this to happen.

But amidst all that, there was one person who stayed.

She wasn’t vocal, but she was diligent. In academics, in student organization work—she was always reliable. She was humble, loved reading books, was a proud anime fan, and spent a lot of time playing Hoyo games. But most importantly, she wasn’t easily swayed by others. When everyone else turned their backs on me, she continued texting me, sharing her daily stories, remaining the only person who didn’t look at me with hatred.

Still, I knew our relationship was nothing more than friendship.

I knew she had been giving me hints for a while. I noticed, but I pretended not to. Not because I was oblivious, but because my pride was too high to acknowledge it.

Then came the moment when only one person truly ran for student association president. I had no intention of winning; I only ran to provide a comparison. I knew I had no support. I knew the outcome from the start. And sure enough, I lost.

I thought that after that, I could leave everything behind. But apparently, I was wrong.

"Got a moment?" My class leader approached me at my usual hangout spot, where engineering students often gathered.

I raised an eyebrow. Ever since the drama that made me a ‘public enemy,’ I rarely spoke to him.

"What’s up?" I asked.

He sat across from me, hesitating before finally saying, "I need you in the Legislative Council."

I chuckled. "Seriously? Isn’t it true that people don’t want me there either?"

"The problem is, no one from our class has joined," he said. "If we don’t have a representative, we’ll lose our voice in the student association. And you know that’s not good."

I stared at him for a long time.

People only came to me when they needed something. I had known that for a long time. But for some reason, this time it felt slightly different.

Maybe because this was the first time someone admitted it outright.

In the end, I accepted the offer. But I didn’t tell anyone. Not because I was afraid— I just didn’t see the point.

Until the Legislative Council’s organizational chart was posted on the student association’s bulletin board.

"Is he really in the Council?" someone’s voice echoed in the hallway.

"Since when?"

"I have no idea. Nobody knew, right?"

I walked past them with a neutral expression. Their stares? Not surprising.

That night, I got a message from her.

Her: I saw your name on the Legislative Council’s chart today.

I smiled a little.

Me: Should I have told you first?

Her: No need. I know that’s just how you are.

I stared at the screen. I knew there was something in her words.

An understanding that only she had.

Days passed, and even though I was now in the Legislative Council, I still wasn’t truly "back" in my class’s environment. I attended my first meeting with my usual blank expression. Some people looked uncomfortable, but no one said anything.

After the meeting, I saw her standing by the stairs, reading something on her phone.

"I saw you in the meeting room earlier," she said.

I shrugged. "Yeah. First meeting."

She looked at me for a moment before finally asking, "How did it feel?"

I let out a small sigh. "Nothing special. It’s just like before. The only difference is now I’m in a position no one expected."

She gave a faint smile, but there was something in her expression I couldn’t quite read.

"You still care, don’t you?" she asked softly.

I looked at her, wanting to deny it, but for some reason… I couldn’t.

In the end, I gave the safest answer I could.

"I’m just doing what needs to be done."

She didn’t argue, nor did she say anything more. She simply smiled before finally saying, "I know."

Before leaving, she added something.

"I’m glad you’re still here."

I didn’t know how to respond.

So I just let her walk away.

And for the first time in a long while, I felt a little lighter.

That night, as I sat at my usual spot with the engineering students, a message came in.

Her: Are you okay?

I stared at my phone for a long time.

I could’ve just typed "Yeah" and ended the conversation. But for the first time, I didn’t feel like doing that.

Finally, I typed something else.

Me: I don’t know.

The reply didn’t come immediately.

Minutes passed, until finally…

Her: I can’t imagine what it feels like to be you.

I smiled slightly.

Me: I can’t imagine what it feels like to be you either. Being able to stay in the middle of all this without being affected.

Her: I’m just doing what I believe is right.

I stared at her words for a long time.

Something about them felt familiar.

Because that’s what I had always done too.

But the difference was… she wasn’t shunned.

I knew she had been giving me hints, but I still pretended not to understand. Not because I didn’t want to, but because I couldn’t.

Me: There’s another meeting tomorrow. I’ll probably be home late.

She read my message, but didn’t reply immediately.

Then finally…

Her: Don’t forget to eat.

A short message. But I knew, in a world that had grown increasingly quiet for me, she was the only one still here.

And maybe… that was enough.

For now.

The End.

[heavenlydomains]

A Distracted Focus

As an event supervisor, I was supposed to be paying attention to the evaluation meeting in the basement. Making sure everything went according to plan, taking notes on things that needed improvement, and ensuring the atmosphere remained orderly. But in reality, my focus was elsewhere.

At the committee table, she sat seriously, busy organizing a pile of documents in front of her. Her fingers swiftly flipped through the papers, occasionally typing on her laptop, her eyebrows slightly furrowed as she read something important. The black hijab she wore draped neatly, perfectly complementing her flannel shirt. Her glasses rested on her nose, making her look even more focused. I had no idea what exactly she was working on, but for some reason, every movement she made captured my attention more than anything happening in this meeting.

Every now and then, she took a deep breath and stretched briefly before returning to her work. The dim basement lighting cast a calm glow on her face, and the edge of her hijab moved slightly as she lowered her head. I realized I had been watching for too long, yet my eyes kept drifting back to her.

I had no idea how long I had been like this until I finally snapped back to reality. No one scolded me or reminded me. It was just me who should have realized that my job wasn’t to keep staring at her.

I took a deep breath, trying to refocus on the meeting that was still ongoing. But still, the image of her working diligently lingered in my mind.

[heavenlydomains]

Maybe, Just One More Time

I sat in the back row of the class, leaning slightly against the chair, pretending to pay attention to the professor who was pacing around while explaining the material. But in reality, my eyes kept searching for her. The girl I had liked for a long time, but for some reason, I had only realized it recently.

She sat in the front row, her hijab neatly wrapped, black in color, paired with a dark denim jacket that made her look even cooler. Today, she wasn’t wearing her glasses. Strange, since she usually always did. I wondered if she couldn’t see clearly without them.

The professor gradually moved closer to my row, and suddenly, she—the girl—turned around. Looking straight at me.

I could feel her gaze, but instinctively, I looked away. Not because I didn’t want to see her, but for some reason, something held me back. And in that split second, I realized—maybe, just maybe, she was looking for me. Maybe she wanted to see my expression. Maybe, if I had the courage to look back, something would have changed that day.

But I did nothing.

When I finally turned back, she had already faced forward again. As if nothing had happened.

And at that moment, I understood—some moments in life don’t happen twice. Once you let them pass, that’s it. Gone.

But who knows? Maybe tomorrow, or the day after, that chance will come again. And if it does, I promise, I won’t look away this time.