I have grown believing that it is better to console than to be consoled, to understand than to be understood, to love than to be loved. Because it is in giving that I received and in pardoning that I am pardoned.
But lately, I have doubts on those beliefs.
Hence, with these doubt, I guess I am officially entering the phase of searching and looking for The Answer, that is, if it really exists.

No, I am not cynical nor pessimistic. I am an optimist who struggle in the ocean of doubts.

I learn everyday and on every occasion. I live to satisfy this insatiable hunger for knowledge.
Curiosity has been a disease of mine since I cannot even remember. This craving to understand what is happening and why it happens and how it happens haunts me, and yet it also drives me alive.

I want it when I die, on my tombstone carved:
"HARYADY, the eternal learner."

Architecture and Arts

My smile.
:D

Books: Gibran's The Prophet, Laozi's Dao De Jing, Louis Kahn: Essential Texts, Tanizaki's In Praise of Shadows, Kakuzo's The Book of Tea, Tagore's Gitanjali, Zumthor's Thinking Architecture and Atmospheres, Zhuangzi, The Meditation of Marcus Aurelius, Austen's Pride and Prejudice, Follet's Pillars of The Earth, Barker's Abarat series, Rowling's Harry Potter series, Steinbeck's Of Mice and Men

Movies: All movies by Peter Jackson and Tim Burton, and some by Christopher Nolan

Shows: 30 Rock, Game of Thrones, True Blood, and Mad Men

Music: Tchaikovsky, Beethoven, Bach, Chopin, Lady Gaga, Madonna, The Cranberries, Amy Winehouse, Duffy, Frank Sinatra, Jo Stafford, Billie Holiday, Nina Simone, Al Green, Ray Charles, The Nashville Teens, The Beatles, The Hollies, Cyndi Lauper, Aretha Franklin, Julie London, Elvis Presley, The Bee Gees, Rosemarry Clooney, Roy Orbison, Diana Ross, Simon and Garfunkel, Bobby Vinton, Ella Fitzgerald, Perry Como, Roy Orbison, and the list goes on...

Architecture,
Arts,
Fashion,
Friends,
Love,
and a glass of Bourbon

Anything and sometimes it could be quite random. For instance, this morning when I'm driving to the office, I thought of how mysterious it is the phenomenon of rain. Forget about the sciences that we've been taught, the idea of water falling from the sky is absolutely magical! And the phenomenon itself, darkness and clouds covering the sky, it was otherworldly to think of such occurance happening in the morning.

The next moment my thought switched to John Lennon, the radio was not even playing any of his song.

I know it is such an anticlimax, but I just cannot help to control how the flow of thought on my mind behaves.

Either hanging out with friends, reading books at home (currently Michel Foucault's Madness and Civilization), or writing nothing in particular.

I am a secret Machiavellian.

There lies a free seat beside me on a field green and golden under an apple tree. Beyond the four rivers, the birds sing, there I will be reading while enjoying my cup of tea:

'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

Should this interest you, perhaps you might want to stop for awhile, and say 'Hi' to me.