at a junction

- to buy a condo in the Upper West Side looking towards Central Park
- to win a mega-million jackpot
- to win a Nobel Peace Prize (the last time I checked, somebody won the prize for just having the idea of peace…so..shouldn’t be too hard)
- to build a campustown in Bojo :p
- to start Navigant Consulting Jakarta
- to be a presidential photographer
- to fly a small jet plane between Chicago and New York
- to have a house in Nob Hill, San Francisco
- to own a cafe business
- to own and run a school in Indonesia
- to own and run a travel company
- to get paid FOR travelling around the world

(running list)

Kata Bu Guru, “Gantunglah cita-citamu setinggi langit”

This is hillarious:

http://www.cnn.com/video/#/video/weather/2009/01/15/kare.banana.hammer.cnn

After mistakenly deleted my old blog at blogger.com, I discovered that I kept a back-up in my office laptop.

So…that blog can be viewed at http://www.marseto.com/binsar/oldblog/

by Kimberly Lau

kim cat maze

this is what we did to kill time back in college :p

This poem was written by my friend, Christina Salim, during her time at The Wellington School (teacher: Mrs. Cheryl Orebaugh). I’d like to just preserve/archive this in my blog. 

You are my friend

Always beside me

Laughing at all my troubles

Grinning at all my misfortunes

Telling people all my faults

To make a fool of me

And laughing about my weaknesses

For they are funny to you

You are my friend

Who always replies

with a sarcastic tone

And only says nice things

When you need something

You use me for everything I have

Since you know I only have a little

But do you ever care?

Do you ever notice?

All you know is yourself

Everything will do

As long as you profit

For you are everything that matters

Oh yes, you are my friend

Who doesn’t even know me

A friend who is never there

Whenever I need you

Yes, you are my friend

Who always turns against me

And never supports me

Because you are my friend?

From all things you’ve done to me

I can be sure

As everyone else is

That you are my friend,

my best friend.

by Binsar, for the beloved Kolese Santo Yusup

when you have time

when you have chance

try to remember

remember those old memories

when your heart cries

when you miss those old time

try to imagine

imagine yourself back then

when you were seventeen

when you were in Kosayu

try to weave those memories

in your heart

try it hard

hard enough not to forget those

weave them like a sonata

Fervent in Spirit!

by Binsar

in a cold winter night

in front of the store in the corner

St. Petersburg died

like sand in the desert

a child crying in front of the store

bread in his right hand

blood in his left hand

hope in his heart

hope….and only hope…..

the soldier marching down the red square

the people in their camps

they cried on the square

they shouted in the camps

a child crying in front of the store

bread in his right hand

a child with nobody around

no shoulder to cry on

no hands to hold on

“‘till when this would last?”

he asked himself

he asked God

he asked everybody

in a cold winter night

in front of the store in the corner

the child lying down

blood from his left hand

died in St. Petersburg

by Binsar

as the sun shines

as the leaves turn red

as the snow melts

as the birds start singing

as a baby start to crawl

as a kid start to walk

as a boy start to run

as a teen start to jump

you begin to learn

you begin to realize

that life isn’t two-dimensional

three dimensional the life is

in life….you won’t see the whole thing

in life….you won’t know everything

something behind you

that you won’t see with your eyes

that makes life more fun

and enjoyable

just like……

no sun shine in the winter

no snow in the summer

no red leaves in the spring

and birds aren’t singing in the fall

by Binsar, wrote this in high school

A day in St. Petersburg

Under the white snows

In cold winter of December 1944

There’s a child in front of a toy shop

With tears in his cheeks

Crying….and crying

Begging for food and toys

Begging in a Christmas Day

Another day in St. Petersburg

Under the white snows

In cold winter of December 1944

There’s a child in front of a toy shop

Lying there in the very morning

Blood from his body

He’s dead

Why the world’s so wild?

A day in St. Petersburg

I still remember