On friendships

Hello from work again.

I've been high on caffeine since a couple of hours ago and I had to make a few phone calls to Indonesia and I was not interested at all because I've always hated to talk superficially to strangers. And something made me even more hesitated to call, which I'm about to tell soon, and I was saved by the universe for luckily it's the time where these people I had to call were busy until next week. Think about coincidence.

Anyway. I was talking to one of my two best friends back home yesterday, which made me think a lot about myself and how I see friendships. It's perhaps the only thing that remains from all this old self-new self thing. I tend to hold on dearly to my friendships, in a way that it's terrifying how my friends are the people who could hurt me the most. I had 2 friends back home, and now one has been missing and I don't know how to reach to her. Here I've met plenty of wonderful people and I've successfully made good friends with 2 of them (2 is my limit maybe), and I just made one of them mad at me. Aren't I the champion of pushing people away?

What's funnier is that, after realising how true it is yesterday, that I seem to care way much more about my friendships than the people who are in the same cycle of friendships with me (how is this getting confusing), I was thinking of putting some distance with my friends here, in the hope that they would not be able to hurt me the way one of my 2 old best friends did when she disappeared. It's the same old routine, my intensity in befriending people eventually brought me to the feeling of attachment, and when I finally am attached, you wouldn't want to imagine what I could do to make them stay.

And I have slowly become attached to my new friends, and it started to scare me.

So this morning I said something stupid to this new friend. I didn't mean to sound mean of course but perhaps subconsciously it was the message that came out of my mouth because of this stupid idea I had since last night (putting distance). And she was upset, of course. Still is. And my reaction to her madness was unsurprisingly the same old reaction I would have when my old friends were mad at me. I put myself down so low it almost looked like I worship them. But that's simply because I value friendships more than anything else, and it matters a lot to me.

And it's also funny because all of my 4 friends are female. And I heard from my friend yesterday that another friend was asking her about me, if I was into women too. It hit too close to home because I'm not denying it, I questioned myself as well about my sexuality just because of how dearly I could treat my friends. And this is insane and hilarious at the same time. Initially I was mad that people questioned my sexuality. But now I just think that, isn't it great how people could see that your friendships are too amazing people think you're gay? (Or maybe it's both a blessing and a curse).

That's that. I learned a bit more about myself that I may seem like I don't care much. But trust me when I do, I would bring the moon down to my friends' feet if that was what it takes to make them stay in my life. Omg aren't I scary???



" Take bread away from me, if you wish, take air away, but do not take from me your laughter. Do not take away the rose, the lance flower that you pluck, the water that suddenly bursts forth in joy, the sudden wave of silver born in you." -Pablo Neruda
I sent this earlier this morning to that friend and I totally understand why people think I'm gay. But guess what, I don't care what people think ;-)

It's perfectly fine

Hello after a long time.

I never intended to come back here to write actually. But these past few days I've been feeling like writing because it's been weird. Being in a completely new place made me feel like a brand new person (understandable I guess). But as much as it is fun, it scares me from time to time because I wonder if I've changed a lot, or I just didn't know myself well enough to embrace the person that I am now. Like, I swear the first few months I was here all the ideas I had of me before were somehow changed. I almost couldn't recognize myself. Most of the new things I did amazed me, at the point where I never thought I would ever be able to do that. And not all of these new things made me proud. And that is why it is scary. Who is this new person? Who was that old person? Do I like this new person? What if I don't? And worst of all, what if I actually am this new person all along?

At this very moment I am writing while I'm supposed to work. The job's fine. The colleagues and everyone are fine. I know what I don't like from this job and it reminds me of my old job back in Jakarta where it pretty much made me whine all the time and not liking my time there and look for a way out. I am on my way out already. Where to go now?

I'm not gonna complain about my job. I just feel like writing and eventually let out what bugs me, because clearly it's been unsafely stored somewhere underneath me and it's so unhealthy it affects my moods and how I see things. I had this wonderful trip with my friends from Korea last weekend, and while it was super great for the fact that they were my closest friends during my exchange semester 4 years ago and here we met again and felt like nothing had changed, it also revealed some hidden emotions and we learned more about ourselves. It was a very incredibly emotional trip and I shed some tears in a dark compartment of the late night train on my way back home. I found out I actually am a very emotional person, and that's perfectly fine.

And yesterday I met this friend of a dear old friend of mine. I never really liked this person but I was curious to see how I could handle my dislikes. The meeting was great actually. And the talk was okay. But I still couldn't change my dislikes towards her for she seems to be the same careless judgmental person that she was the first time I knew her. And I'm pretty sure she also doesn't like me. But this time, instead of trying to make her like me, I could see myself accepting the fact that some people just can't get along with me, and that's also perfectly fine.

And what now, I don't know. I might be here longer than expected, despite the fact that some people I know don't really like to be here. This place is perfect for me. It's very laid back, and it has everything I'm looking for. Settling down sounds too much for now but maybe, maybe I can just settle for a bit, being grateful for what I've already accomplished so far without having to chase something else. Because I'm tired. So exhausted and tired I feel like going home. I don't even know what home is for now but guess what? It's perfectly fine.

This Christmas

Christmas is approaching. People start to decorate their trees. The lights, the fancy ornaments, the stars, all the happiness that follows. And we're here, locked in a room with our separateness. Far away from the crowd, we sit on each side of the bed, looking down. The tears that secretly stream down our faces form a little pond down the floor. 

A second, a minute, an hour, we lose count of time. Every moment we spend waiting goes right to waste. Why do candles share their lights only to find themselves burned down? The never ending questions, they come back to us like thirst finds a fountain. 

The church bells ring, the people sing. The joy that's been awaited has arrived to people's heart. But not us. In the holy night, we have nothing to celebrate. 

The Letters that I'll Never Send #6

Hugs,
(Can I open this with hugs?),

I am captured in a moment between two things I'm too afraid to type here, that I can't quite delineate. It is something that wakes me up forthwith in the morning, and something that keeps me up all night. It is something I should probably never keep, because it stays in the inside of my brain, perhaps has already built a more permanent abode so that it is even harder for me to forget. And it is something that makes me rather proud of myself for not being mental already... because every cloud has a silver lining.

Among all the things I really need to think about, this perfect visualisation of what's been on my literal dreams pops up in my head. And it's always about you, the thing I always say I don't need and the thing I'm too afraid to think about. Same thing. I've been here before, I've done it again. It's very confusing because it can be very constructive and destructive at the same time. Like, I know that in a few months there is no other possibility but for myself to see this crush to bit. Yet, I keep on thinking that I still can enjoy it while it lasts, creating my own delusion that dupes me for being the naïve little kid that I maybe really am. This delusion however, has always successfully tricked me into thinking that there is a chance somehow, and mine is pretty good. I think about what you did to me, what you brought me to, how you made my day and how you made me 'look forward to Monday to', as I chronicled simultaneously (mostly in the conversations I have with myself. Talk about being mental..), and your perplexing motive that I can't deduce plays an even bigger role in driving myself crazy.

In a positive way, if this still sounds sane enough. You bring a lot of good things, in spite of me. You colour my rather black and white sphere, with a lot of shades and tints and hues with perfect saturation, the kind I've never seen before. You bring out the best in me, help me unleash my potential that I thought was dead, with dying me. You make me want to live, more than just merely exist. I hear from within me a little bit more than a rhythmic beat every time you're around. Without me realising, I have triumphantly pieced myself together again, and it feels so positive I feel like wrapping my arms around you and never let go. Nevertheless, I know that you, like everything else that matters, won't last. And so again I'm babbling about me being imprisoned in my own agony.

"No, I think you've explained yourself clearly."
What if, just if, one day I could stop thinking too much, would you still believe me if I said I loved you?

So good night, beautiful thing. If in a few months I finally, voluntarily or forcefully, let you walk out the door, I will let you know that I'm not gonna die watching the moon and the night marry nevermore.

With the scenarios I have in my head,
Come back.

Why Try to Change Me Now?

I got goosebumps.

So you know why I always end up with a blank paper

Meine Finger aufhören zu tanzen, wenn ich an dich denke.

On Death

I just realised that most books I've read (and liked) have something to do about death. And it leads me to a question, does death scare me? 

Not that I'm not scared of death (nor I'm scared of it). It's just that I realised (just recently. In fact I was just thinking about it as I stopped reading John Green's Looking for Alaska for a while because it got too depressing for me to take and I didn't want to look teary because I was in a moving train surrounded by strangers. Spoiler much?), it's something real. And it also got me thinking about my very own, that no matter how busy I am right now trying on every verb possible for me to do, to die will be the last verb I'm doing. 

Maybe it's too shallow to think that death will be the end. No living person could ever tell what happens after we die, and it just occurs to me that how powerless we all really are and how greedy we are to try to know everything. Ok I'm talking about me, how greedy I feel like right now. I've lived my years of life having weird curiosity and it normally scares the shit out of me not to know the answers of my questions. But what is the point of questioning humans greed if its just another indication of being human? Greed is a part of myself as a human. Just like my body parts and my soul and the unthinkable adjectives and the labels I'm not supposed to think about. And if I die while I'm still full of greed, chasing the things I probably don't need and wanting to have the things I probably don't deserve, I'd be dying as a human just as other people would. So what difference would it make if each of us will finally blend in with the ground having our flesh rotten, feeding the big fat worms we once were disgusted about, and finally be forgotten because unfortunately, another inseparable function of a human is to forget, despite how much we want to remember everything? 

Maybe I know. Right now, death doesn't scare me as much as the uncertainty of the future does. Death itself is uncertain too, I know. But maybe I've just been too busy trying to be alive.

Mental moment

Last time I was talking about disgust, it was toward someone else. 

I was really tired lat night yet couldn't go straight to bed. I was, what's the word, distracted. Distracted from my current thoughts, fears, ambitions, dreams, responsibilities, and all the words used to describe everything that's usually in my mind. I thought it would be good, distraction. But no, not really. 

Sadly we never really have gotten to choose what tomorrow's gonna bring. So for a few moment last night, which I believe lasted for at least 1.5 hours, I felt the need to enjoy my present. "Fuck tomorrow, my every second of tonight won't ever come back again", I thought to myself. 

I spent the time to dig into my shitty collection of poetry and reread them all, trying to remember what it was all about when I made them. I felt like laughing, knowing how sentimental I could be and how stupid everything really is (stupid has definitely become one of my favourite words to say, sometimes it's out of context but I just like to say it. My sister hates it when I say stupid, it sounds to her like I'm a snob). But really, stupid is the word. 

Then I read them out loud. 1 in the morning, reading poetry, and despite what people say about my facial expressions, I think it was okay. If someone heard me probably they'd thought I was mental. But in that 'mental' moment I found peace. And a friend. Wow, I probably really am mental because I found a friend in me, someone I've been trying to approach since forever. 

But of course good moments don't last. Nothing ever really lasts, and neither did that moment last night. To the fear of waking up late this morning for class, I forced myself to sleep and here I am now, still in bed, having another unnecessary thought to think about. Sometimes I wonder how other people's minds work, if they're as tiring as mine or it's just normal and I should stop making a big deal out of it, I would never know. 

But I'm kinda sad to realise how easy it is to lose that friend in me despite the fact that it was really hard to be friends with her in the first place. 

And this time, I'm disgusted to myself.