my abc's

Sella Agustin. another tumblr. just words. blah blah blah.

July 2, 2014 at 11:02pm
3,910 notes
Reblogged from rabbitinthemoon

I can bear any pain as long as it has meaning.

— Haruki Murakami, 1Q84 (via rabbitinthemoon)

(via eletheowl)

May 20, 2014 at 9:24pm
65,620 notes
Reblogged from wordsthat-speak

I want to get more comfortable being uncomfortable. I want to get more confident being uncertain. I don’t want to shrink back just because something isn’t easy. I want to push back, and make more room in the area between I can’t and I can.

— Kristin Armstrong (via wordsthat-speak)

(via eletheowl)

133,805 notes
Reblogged from blood--sport

I stopped telling myself that I’m lost.
I’m not.
I’m on a road with no destination, I’m just driving with hope that I’ll find a place that I like and I’ll stay there.
I’m not lost, I’m on my way.

— Ahunnaya (via h-o-r-n-g-r-y)

(Source: blood--sport, via eletheowl)

413,358 notes
Reblogged from elalusz

Hearts are wild creatures, that’s why our ribs are cages.


Unknown (via perfect)

and they need to be protected

(via arolia)

(Source: elalusz, via eletheowl)

0 notes

on finding a new hobby.

i’ve been looking for a new hobby.

my bf suggest i should do blogging. but i’m bad with words. literally. 

when i was still in university, my major forced me to deal with books of thousands thousands of words, memorizing it one by one, trying to explain all those scientific things on a piece of paper. i’ve always been bad in making up good sentences. so my bestfriend when i’m doing exam is: a correction pen.

but i like to write. even though not as good as my friend here: prisanti putri. who’s her writings have always been nothing but inspiring. but yeah, i like to write (okay i said it twice). so i think i will try to write few unimportant things here. 

nothing’s gonna get hurt anyway. but maybe my bad grammar will hurt you guys some times ;)

so.. where should i start?

or should i say..where am i right now?

well, right now, i’m in the middle of Banten (err…maybe). to be exact, i’m living in a small room not far from where i work now. 

my work here, i should say it’s pretty an amazing job. i get to work inside fashion retail, got a really nice payment, and learning about running a business.

but, as you all know, nothing’s ever perfect. so does this job.

if everything is so perfect, why do i sometimes crying on my bed? imagining to be at home, to be jobless, and all i have to do is watching grey’s anatomy all day long. 

to be honest, maybe i’m just lonely. i’m this sad 25-years-old-single, lonely at bed, lonely at work, during lunch, or sometimes in my day off. but then again, if i’m not doing all of this right now, i don’t exactly know what i’m gonna do. 

sometimes when i close my eyes, i’m traveling through times. i wonder how is my future like? i always have different scenarios.

married and having my own business cafe. everyday wake up only to check on my business. non profitable cafe. only just to clear out my husband’s dime. haha.

or i will stay working with this company and feeding my ambitious career. becoming the old lady with cranky look all the time. no time for husband. no time for children. missed my child first word, my child first steps.

or sometimes i’m wondering to have a complete different life. i’m a singer to this synth pop band, i get to travel around the world, having not so many fans - but the devoted ones. gets to interviewed by magazines, singing for radios, stay young forever.

it’s fun.

but when i open my eyes, well, here’s the tricky thing: i’m still here. i just sit here eating my lunch. my favorite kaya toast, which is overpriced, by the way. coming back from the future, only to come back to my routines. 

what is happiness? what do i need to sacrifice to get it?

do i need to sacrifice my happiness to get a happiness?

what is this i’m blabbing about anyway?

so funny.

November 26, 2013 at 8:24pm
147,899 notes
Reblogged from oh-deir-deactivated20140104

Be soft. Do not let the world make you hard. Do not let pain make you hate. Do not let the bitterness steal your sweetness.

— Kurt Vonnegut  (via godmoves)

(via eletheowl)

June 8, 2013 at 8:01pm
289,568 notes
Reblogged from hurtlamb

I’m really afraid to feel happy because it never lasts.

—  Andy Warhol (via rosettes)

(Source: blindsideddd, via damasdamas)

April 16, 2013 at 2:53pm
12,189 notes
Reblogged from invisiblestories

I will gaze at the moon and cleanse my heart.

— Zeami (via rosettes)

(Source: invisiblestories, via eletheowl)

April 13, 2013 at 12:04am
0 notes

as cheesy as it could be.

there’s been a thing that’s bothering me for this past few weeks. as if i’m making a huge mistake that brings a huge humiliation for me, as a person in this judgmental world. 

well i’m not going to say sorry, because it’s not a mistake nor a sin. 

for me, music is a universal world. it is your freedom to choose what kind of music you would like to hear, and eventually become your self expression. it is your freedom to choose some genres from many kind of it.

and yet, here i am. in this post-doomsday year, still received some kind of sentiment reaction from my peers because of my interest in kpop.


yes, i like kpop.

simply because i like it. i like the packaged that they offer. maybe not all of the kind of kpop. but i’m rooting for a kpop boyband called “SHINee”. and i’m a proud shawols. ;)

i don’t understand why kpop listeners still got this kind of reaction. pfft. come on.. be open minded. it doesn’t mean you can easily mock someone because of their “unusual” interest. it doesn’t mean you’re taste in music is better than anyone else. as i said before, music is a universal world. it’s a freewill to choose any kind of music you’d like to hear. 

and it’s a self expression; this is me.

well, i just want to let my little world in here know, that i’m a kpop listener. and as cheesy as it could be, i won’t stop becoming one of it.


February 27, 2013 at 1:41pm
404,575 notes
Reblogged from ofheightsandhollows-deactivated

I once dated a writer and



Writers are forgetful,

but they remember everything.
They forget appointments and anniversaries,
but remember what you wore,
how you smelled,
on your first date…
They remember every story you’ve ever told them -
like ever,
but forget what you’ve just said.
They don’t remember to water the plants
or take out the trash,
but they don’t forget how
to make you laugh.

Writers are forgetful
they’re busy
the important things.

(Source: ofheightsandhollows, via eletheowl)