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Saturday, November 17, 2018

"Mama Bangs*t!"



"Mama bangs*t!" Keluar lagi deh postingan itu, yang mengingatkan wanita agar selalu ada buat anak agar anak nggak durhaka.

Nggak banyak yang mengingatkan si lelaki jangan kurang ajar pada wanita, karena anak kan menggugu dan meniru. Dilihat bapak/paman/kakek/sosok lelaki di keluarga mengkasari wanita, ya dianggap normal.

Nggak banyak yang mengingatkan si lelaki kalo kawin bukan cuma modal kont*l saja. Bahwa kont*l nggak cukup buat bayar kontrakan atau beli beras kecuali itu kont*l diberdayakan via jual diri.

Nggak banyak yang mengingatkan si lelaki kalo punya anak itu tanggung jawab dia juga. Bukan cuma sekedar materi, tapi juga iman dan takwa dan pembawaan secara sosial. Jadi kalo anak bertingkah ya cerminan bapaknya juga.

Nggak banyak yang mengingatkan si lelaki kalau melanggar janji suci yang dibuat di hadapan Tuhan itu berat. Setia sehidup semati sampai ada cewek cantik yang jadi pengganti. Loe pikir Tuhan produser serial tv The Bachelor?

Tetap lho, apapun yang terjadi si Emak yang salah. Padahal bikin anak kan kudu pake lelaki, bukan kayak stek mangga yang tinggal tanam potongan batang. Terus faedah lelaki apa dong? Cuma nyumbang sesendok teh sperma aja kok lebay banget.

Jujur aja sih kalo nggak sanggup menafkahi lahir (baca: materi) dan batin (baca: perasaan). Bilang aja "Eh gue pengen ngewe tanpa ada ikatan dan gue ga akan mau ngebiayain anak tapi gue mau ngewe tanpa kondom dan keluar di dalam."

Gue akan tersenyum penuh gairah dan menyodorkan kartu nama dokter vasektomi.

Lah iya dong. Kalo elu ga mau tanggung jawab ya elu vasektomi lah, sama gue mau lihat hasil tes penyakit seksual loe. Kalo elu nikahin gue mesti sanggup support finansial dan perasaan,  kalo nggak rate perek berlaku tiap kita main. Enak aja mau gratisan.

Kita perempuan juga mesti mikir. Pilih suami karena yakin bisa jadi pasangan yang setara dengan kita dan jadi ayah yang mampu memgayomi dan membesarkan anak kita. Dan yang bisa dipegang sampe akhir nanti.

Tapi kita pilih suami karena takut dicap nggak laku. Kita pilih suami yang bisa dipamerin di sosmed. Kita pilih suami yang konon bisa mendekatkan kita ke surga. Kita nggak mikirin nasib anak dan keluarga kita.

Padahal kalau kita miskin, anak kita pun akan tambah miskin karena nggak mendapat kesempatan untuk memperbaiki hidupnya lewat pendidikan atau kecerdasan/kearifan sosial pergaulan.

Padahal kalau anak besar melihat kekerasan (yang seringkali dampak stres karena kekurangan finansial) maka dia besarnya juga kasar atau merasa kekerasan itu wajar, baik sebagai yang melakukan atau sebagai korban.

Tapi gpp lah anak kehilangan masa depan karena terjebak lingkaran kekerasan dan kemiskinan. Yang penting kan mama+papa sekarang eksis dan bakal masuk surga. Nanti tinggal drama dan sharing artikel "Mama bangs*t" sambil ngetag pasangan untuk saling mengingatkan.

Enak ya hidup tanpa tanggung jawab.

Friday, November 16, 2018

Broken


Do you know what broken is? Broken is when a word, a phrase, an action that might seem mundane suddenly triggers you and you have the instinct to either jump and gutted the person, or to roll up into the fetal position in fear. I don't know the right clinical name for it.

What I do know it sucks to see myself descending to the darkness once again. When I start to black out and my mood swings rocking harder than a pendulum in the storm. When I know I slowly lost control of my emotion and awash in my grim Neverland.

You won't see it because a part of me told me to "Stand still. Smile. Don't let them know." Because people run away when they see negativity. It's natural. Not many have the resilience to deal with that shit. Because I am strong enough to withstand the storm.

At least that's what I said. Off to a date. Then another. House has his painkillers and I have mine. Ride the storm quietly in an extravagant manner so no one will suspect you are drowning inside. The world only needs to see Selina Kyle, not her sorry story.

But you are tortured inside. The moment love seemed to come through you'd lap it up like a man stranded in the desert, wishing fervently that it is real. The moment when there's even the slightest chance that the love is not real, is not equal, up goes the wall like the castle bridge being pulled up.

You give a breath of relief when it didn't work. It shouldn't work, anyway. You are too broken. You shed tears and feel sad when it's over, but you know it's also over because you killed them as Atalanta did to the suitors that lost a race with her. 

You just got off the phone with your building manager. You told him a neighbor cat was on the roof and couldn't get out, and can he please help the cat. He laughed and said they already did. You know you are a good girl. You know people love you. But not enough to keep you.

You know you'll eventually cool down and be happy again, but it won't be the end. The panic attack, the blinding fear, the hands that will go up to protect your broken little soul while sobbing: "No! Please don't hurt me!" Those will come and go as they please.

"Get help." I am trying to. "Forget him." I already did. "Let him go." I thought I have moved on already. Stick and stones may hurt my bones, but apparently words decapacitate me emotionally. Isn't love grand?

Wednesday, November 14, 2018

I Got Flowers



I got flowers. 

I literally sat here dumbfounded for 10 solid minutes reiterating it over and over again. I got flowers. 

It wasn't a birthday flower or sorry-I-fuck-up flower. I've had those before. I don't know why I got this one. My date just casually handed me those when he dropped me off after our dinner date.

And now I got flowers.

My best friend always told me that the men I met set the standard so low the bar is practically on the ground. My girls will exasperatedly say (again and again): "It's normal!!" when I told them a man was being nice to me.

So, umm, yeah. I might be overreacting right now. It's still amazing, though. I would buy flowers for my friends, just because. Or give away the ones I got to people on the bus. Their smile and astonishment were beautiful to behold.

And here I am, on their end. I got flowers.

Do I expect it? No. My life has been plentiful. My best friend spoils me like a princess. My girls are true "Ride or Die" squad. I have warm bed and full stomach. My family and friends are awesome. I can't ask for more.

Yet life will throw a curveball at you now and then. We know this. We dread this because it usually means bad. In my case, though, the curveball was an unexpected acknowledgement. "Here. You're ok."

I stopped writing to look at the flowers. I guess?

I have to fight off the voices in my head, each with their own version why I don't deserve it, or that it means nothing. I want to cave in because it is easier to crush your hope before someone else crushes it. It's easier to think I don't deserve to be happy before happiness is taken away from me.

I am not going to. Not this time. I deserve to be happy and I shouldn't be scare of it. Happiness is like the flowers, it will eventually died out yet the memories and the feelings linger. I am keeping those.

So, yay! I got flowers!

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