Christmas Lights

#ChristmasLights

The Christmas lights were hanging prettily this evening. As the night grew darker, the balls of light seemed to be hanging there like ghoul fires so often told in my native tribe stories, or like magical floating bubbles straight out of the fairy tale. Either way, I was at peace. 

The holiday lights drive through was a part of my Christmas gift from my friend this year. I was envious and angry at the start of the drive, thinking of all the 'family' I was brought into and kicked out from during my previous relationships. All the things I loved and lost.

But this is the first Christmas in the US where I was no longer chasing shadows. Where I no longer go one party to another for fear of being alone. Where I no longer have to strive to make things perfect for a family that didn't accept me.

This year is a horrible year for me, even worse than when I got my divorce. I am still struggling with my self-worth, with my depression, with my newly reopened trauma that made a comeback as dramatic as the alien popping out of a guy's chest. Everything is on fire and I just want to curl and hide. I just want to be forgotten.

Yet everytime I seem to fall to my demise, my friends catch me. Even when they didn't know they did it. To them is merely appreciating someone they care for. To me it's a safety net that I can't break free from. Not that I ever want to break free.

The night was chilly but the lights were pretty. For the first time in so many months I can see my future again instead of being obscured in fog of self-doubt. I will be alright. I can walk again. I can do this.

Merry Christmas, love. Thanks for the gift of love and of life you all have given me.

The Sun Will Shine Again

Taylor Swift said:

"Never be so kind, you forget to be clever

Never be so clever, you forget to be kind"

I feel I am neither kind or clever right now. I wasn't clever enough to keep myself safe from harm's way. I wasn't kind enough on how I act with others. 

I guess this is what depression is all about. Reasoning and common sense don't apply anymore. You can have the world on a silver platter and you will still only taste ashes in your mouth. Nothing matters except the confusing fog in your head.

I have to focus, though. "I am unkind." Look at how warm the sunshine is. "I am a burden". Think of all the movies you are going to watch. "Nobody wants me." We have corsets and new dresses to wear, to flaunt.

Every time I gravitated toward the dark abyss, I have to remind myself to look toward the life I have. The light may not be able to completely remove the shadow, but it can reduce it substantially.

Yes, I am looking forward to go to museums. To watch Spiderman and Kingsman. To give holiday gifts like a madwoman. To hold each of you precious so close to me and whisper:

"Thank you for being here. Thank you for being the rope that prevent me from falling to my death. Thank you for being the light in my shadowy realm."

The sun will shine again in my mind. I promise myself that. It will.

Rampok

Pemerkosaan itu pencurian, perampasan. Dan di semua kitab suci ditulis jangan merampok orang lain. Jangan mengambil hak orang lain. Tapi kita tetap jalan terus ya dengan membiarkan ini terjadi.

Mohon maaf sebesarnya mbak-mbak korban, karena kita semua gagal sebagai masyarakat. Sebagai negara bahkan, karena para pelaku tidak dihukum sepantasnya.

Mohon maaf mereka dibiarkan merampas kehormatan mbak-mbak sekalian, menempatkan mbak-mbak di posisi hina. Rusak sudah masa depan mbak-mbak sekalian, karena seumur hidup akan digunjingkan.

Mohon maaf untuk semua orang yang kehilangan rasa kemanusiannya. Atau mungkin memang tidak pernah ada? Hanya setan yang sanggup menertawakan dan menghina seseorang yang sedemikian terpuruknya. Ah, saya tidak boleh menjudge. Setan pun mungkin masih bisa berbelaskasihan. 

Konon salah kita ya mbak-mbak. Salah kita mau dibawa ke hotel. Salah kita mau diajak berduaan. Salah kita berpacaran. Salah kita punya badan yang mengundang. Salah kita pasangan orang jadi tidak setia. Semua salah kita. Titik.

Lalu bagaimana? Mungkin kita perempuan jangan hidup, begitu? Biar nggak jadi sumber setan konon. Para lelaki, bersatulah! Daripada kalian onani dan nonton bokep, belajar sana yang benar agar bisa bikin clone machine. Jadi perempuan nggak perlu exist lagi. Yes! Yes! YES!

Tapi balik lagi ya mbak-mbak. Sungguh sangat membingungkan. Kalau salah kita mau diajak ke hotel, gimana kalau nggak ngajak ke hotel? Yang kalau ketahuan mengajak berduaan apalagi (amit-amit) ke hotel langsung dianggap mempermalukan nama keluarga.

Him: Pah, saya minta maaf saya khilaf. 

Bapak [menggelegar]: APA KAMU TAHU APA KATA TETANGGA??

Ibu: [Sesengguk sedih]

Him: Pah, Bu. Bukan maksud saya seperti itu.

Bapak: JANGAN PANGGIL SAYA PAPA. KAMU BUKAN ANAK SAYA LAGI.

Ibu: Nak, kurang apa ibu mengajarimu? [suara tangisan pilu] Sekarang mana ada yang mau menikahimu lagi setelah mereka semua tahu kamu pelacur.

Him: [gemetar] Saya bukan pelacur! Kami saling mencintai!

Bapak: Makan itu cinta. Kamu sekarang hanya sampah. Sekarang pergi dari rumah saya!!

Ibu: [menangis makin keras] Pergi nak. Cukup sudah kamu mempermalukan kami….

Cocok? Cocok. Kalau mau dapat perempuan baik ya harus jadi pria baik juga dong. Lelaki macam apa belum-belum sudah minta kehormatan Wanita, belum-belum mencari kenikmatan. Nggak diajar apa sama orang tuanya? What a whore. Pelacur asusila banget nggak sih?

Apalagi yang sampai memaksakan diri ke wanita. Nggak ada harga diri gitu? Segitu nggak pedenya wanita akan mau sampai harus memaksakan diri? Ini ibarat pengamen memaksakan kita beli dagangan yang nggak seberapa. Gini ya, pisgor jualan mu itu lembek, berminyak, dan entah udah dicolek berapa orang. Dan elu memaksa gue menyantapnya. What is wrong with you? Elu kejedot dimana sih?

Orang-orang yang menertawakan, menggunjingkan, mereka pun harus dilihat sebagaimana adanya. Kemanusiaan itu dimulai saat kita sebagai masyarakat bersatu menolong salah satu dari kita yang kesusahan, yang bersedih. Semua suku di Indonesia memiliki tradisi dimana masyarakat sekitar datang membantu yang sedang berduka. Tapi kita sekarang malah bersatu menjatuhkan, mencaci dan menghakimi. Lagi-lagi, pada kejedot dimana sih?

Bukan korban kekerasan seksual yang memalukan, atau yang terciduk karena tindakan asusila. Yang memalukan adalah orang-orang yang dengan lancing berteriak dan tertawa disaat orang lain terduduk menangis. Mereka bahagia karena pasti auto surga disaat ada yang konon pasti masuk neraka, padahal setan yang menyeringai paling lebar saat menulis nama-nama mereka karena gagal dalam ujian dari Tuhan. 

Orang baik adalah orang yang membawa selimut untuk menghangatkan para korban ini, yang menghapus airmata mereka dan menjadikan dirinya sebagai tempat bersandar. Orang baik adalah orang yang melihat para korban sebagai manusia yang teraniaya, yang butuh dibantu. 

Orang baik adalah orang yang lantang melawan kezholiman, yang berteriak dan bertindak terhadap manusia murahan dan nista yang memaksakan dirinya terhadap seseorang. Yang berani menghardik mulut-mulut jahat agar diam.

Bukan salah kalian ya mbak-mbak. Mayarakat akan berpikir ini salah kita, karena lebih mudah menyalahkan seseorang daripada memperbaiki sesuatu. Lebih mudah menuduh 'moral bobrok' daripada memperbaiki apa yang salah sehingga seseorang bisa memaksakan diri ke orang lain tanpa dihukum, atau menyadari betapa bobrok dan kejamnya kita terhadap seseorang yang membutuhkan bantuan.

Peluk erat untuk kalian mbak-mbak dan mas-mas. You are worth it. Always.

Swipe Right

The realization somewhat came as a shock to me. The men I swiped right on the dating app did not swipe back at me. 

Honestly, I am not even mad. I noticed I have my own preferences, and therefore it is not fair to be angry at people who have their own preferences. So what if they don't like me because of my skin color or my body type or how I look? Did I not do the same? 

I know how easily this could go wrong for many people. The doubt that starts to set in, the questions in our head. "Why am I not good enough?" "Maybe I should tweak my profile to be more enticing." "Maybe I should post better pictures. Leg pictures. My legs are gorgeous."

And then comes the anger and frustration. Rejection after rejection, days or months of feeling unseen. We start to get bitter. We are angry for those who passed us by. It feels we are standing in a giant hall and repeatedly passed on to play for the teams. We are the 6s and 7s, the average C team that is not even good enough for the average B team. 

For men, it's convoluted with bots and prostitutes. For women, an endless array of f- boys. I am not sure how it is with LGBTQ+, but I am guessing the same. It feels we are panning for gold in a dead mine, with absolutely no reason to believe this will work except for our dumb blind hope.

But what are we really hoping for? A happily ever after? A 'Eureka!' moment? Our last 'first date'? Or are we just trying to find some sort of acceptance in this miserable world? A person to share a bite or a drink with, even when we know we will never see them again after? A warm bed and body heat on our skin even if only for a mere hour or less?

The world is cold and lonely. It is also very confusing and tiring. Here's to us finding that one person to share our umbrella with. Here's to us finding that safe space where we could put our guards down and relax. Here's to us exploding in tiny joy over fun experiences and warm smile. Even for a brief second.

This world of online dating is an uncharted territory, filled with menace and dangers. It's also filled with treasures untold, even those who are merely passing by. Isn't this exciting?

Broken Wings

How many times can wings be broken?

How many times the feather strewn

The bones shattered and poked out from the skin

How many times I can see the ground

Speeding swiftly before my eyes

The sharp intake of breath I take

Knowing the impact is near

The sound of my body on the earth

And broken wings yet again

How many times for real

Apparently the answer is "not enough"

As I stood on the cliff once again

The tears not even dried yet

The bones not even healed yet

The wings are all crooked and weird

But the smile, the goddamn smile

Here is the world and the world is mine

Even if I fall yet again the flight is worth it

Because human is the most beautiful thing

The earth has ever seen

And I'll fly over and over again

I'll crash over and over again

Just to experience what it's like to be human

To see how beautiful they truly are

Wings outstretched

Arms open wide

The crown stays on

Let me fly again.

.

.

.

.

.

#poem #poetry #movingon #adulting #retrospection #leapoffaith #blackcatwanders

Kept Woman

I am angry today. I had to do something I am scared of tomorrow, and it reminds me how alone I am.

My friend will take me there and wait for me. Others will pretty much be on standby should I need help. I am not alone.

But I can't hold them close until I fall asleep. I can't bring myself to bother them much because they have their own life and responsibilities. 

With that, the waves of "Why am I not good enough" came through. I am gorgeous. I f-ck well. I cook even better. I am caring. I am loving. I can be your queen or your whore, your saint or your troll, your knight or your damsel in distress.

Then why the F I am not good enough to be kept.

I know I just haven't met the right one. I know my standards. I know I am not the easiest to deal with. Right now I don't want to hear that. Right now I want to scream and yell and cuss. Right now I want to smash chinas and rip sheets.

Right now I want to cry on somebody's shoulder, being hugged and have my hair stroked gently until I fall asleep. I want to be told it will be ok. Right now I just want to have a love that's only for me.

Don't worry, I will smile again tomorrow. Let me have this anger today. I will be fine.

Exist

Have you ever be thankful that some people simply exist?

Of all the life choices they made they are here. With you. With us. In some extreme cases they could just book it out early but they didn't. And the sum of all those choices are their current existence.

This existence inspired us, motivate us, and change us accordingly. It could have been as mundane as seeing someone with a good hair color and decided to dye your hair accordingly, or an extreme one where you decided to change yourself.

It could be something as subtle as "Nah. I don't think X will be comfortable with it." Or a little bit extra push as "I will do this because I know Y believe in me and I want to prove them right." Or it could even be spite motivated "I *am* not going to be like that douche Z".

We ourselves are the sum of our actions and people we met along the way. We ourselves change the world and people around us simply by existing. Yet maybe none of us really understand this. 

We are nothing, we humbly said. Was it humbleness or our inability to accept how impactful we are, how even our smallest action could lead into great consequences?

I am glad that the people around me exist. Those who treat me like family. Those who guard me and my happiness valiantly. Those who make me want to be a better person just for them. Even those who forged me through the trial of pain and fire.

I am glad they exist. I am a better person because of them. And if the day come where they can't exist anymore in my universe, I know I will still be glad that I met them and have them close for a while.

Besties, thank you for everything and more. Thank you for existing in my world. I love you all as much Anakin hates sand.

Enough

I had a moment today. A pic of me and my ex-bf flashed on my Facebook memories. The sun was shining, we were smiling, the love between us was so strong that two years later I can still see it in the photo.

And that's the hardest part of this journey. Love should be a cure-all. It should be enough to overcome all obstacles. It should be sufficient to buy my happily ever after.

But it wasn't.

People don't change just because of love. No matter how many times Hollywood and NY Times book best seller told you so, people are inherently selfish and they won't change unless they decided they would.

I am trying to relearn this. I am trying to relearn that sometimes things end because it needs to die. That it wasn't "not enough love" but just wasn't the right currency. That people have different comfort zone and ours just didn't met.

This is not about him. This is about me relearning and accepting love. I thought if I have someone who are equally receptive it will be enough. That they will move the world for my love. It is not. Love is only a mean to happiness, not happiness itself.

And you know what? It's ok. We're only human after all. I am not lesser because of it, nor is he weaker for not meeting me where I need him to be. Sometimes, well most of the times, love is not enough. And it's 100% ok.

Aftermath

Sometimes days are good. Sometimes days are bad.

Sometimes days are hungry days. You craved the connection. You wanted a connection. You desired the intimacy. You cried inside a bit, then cussed a lot because how dare that person conditioned you to have so much love to give only to leave you dry. It doesn't matter. You are hungry still.

Sometimes days are scary days. You questioned yourself because DUMB@SS FAILED YET AGAIN. You keep yourself in check, question every little message you send to your friends because you are worried it sounded too demanding. It is not their responsibility to calm the fear in you. You need to stop being so clingy ffs.

Sometimes days are happy days. You play games and go adventuring. You ate food with your friends and laugh together. They caressed your hair. They laughed at your silly joke and gossip about the latest Stardew games. They give you the longest hug and you can see it in their eyes that they will never, ever abandon you.

And you keep telling yourself this too will pass. You let the fear speak loudly while you listen close. You hold yourself tight because that is the ultimate self-care. You are not weak for feeling hurt. You are not broken for breaking it off. You are not soft for working on this continuously.

There is no deadline in grief. It's not a sign of weakness. It's not a sign of how much better the other person was or how much you lose in the aftermath. Sometimes it takes months, years, for us to be honest to ourselves. Yet only then the healing can truly begin.

And you know what helps? Living. Staying alive. One board game at a time. One food adventure at a time. One smile after another. Chuckles and teases and a million laughter. One day you can trust again. One day you can believe in happily ever after again. Until then, just keep going. 

Even in the aftermath, the world is beautiful. The colors never fade. The beautiful hearts remain precious. The love you receive and give to the world remain abundant. Acceptance is a journey. A new beginning is a journey. Keep moving, love. You got this.

The Friends

I was presented with a major news yesterday and I freaked out.

For some reason, I am more upset about having to go through this alone than about the actual news instead.

I found myself being very angry at my ex-bf and everyone else that should have stayed by me but they didn't. You promised me I won't be alone anymore. You promised me.

But I was not alone. Friends whom I confided about the news immediately comforted me. They gave me long hugs, other called and texted. Everyone is invested in my well being.

And I am glad I can see that. I am glad I can see their bright light and not dwell in the "what if" and the gaping hole inside me. 

When you are in pain, it's too easy to give in to that cold misery inside you. It's too easy to focus on your grief and averse your eyes from the people who love you. Because their love wouldn't compare to your pain. They won't understand.

Maybe. But they still love us. The world didn't lose its color because you can only see black and white. It is us who have to accept that affection and see their brightness again.

I may not have someone who is truly mine, someone that I can cry to without restraints, someone who will hug and caress me until I fell asleep. But I have people who care. People who choose to treat me as someone important. I am not alone.

Babes, thank you for being my friend.

Habit

I have been posting a lot of sad things on my FB/blog lately, and I want you all to know I will be alright.

It has been a journey on understanding myself. I grieved for love lost the first few months, and now I am grieving for the lost companionship.

I thought I grieved so hard because I love him more than my previous marriage. It may be so, but it's also because I have less resources right now than I was 5 years ago. 

My commute was longer then. Entertainments and bars and restaurants were open. Downtown LA embraced me, occupied my thoughts. I was busy finding who I am. 

This time I have spare time to grieve. I know what I am and consequently be picky about it. I am no longer distracted by the city. I have also been living in love for almost 2 years. Missing his presence was hard.

It is normal. I have to break a habit and it's always hard. I am trying to develop new habit with people who love me. New me who has different support system. It is hard but I will be ok.

Because I don't miss kowtowing. I don't miss sitting with tears on my face over political debate. I don't miss knowing I am but a temporary being.

I have a habit and I am breaking it.

Hard Reset

I wanted to write about everything. About how sad it is to see homeless people. About how Dave Chapelle's madness shows how shallow and hypocritical we are. About overcoming inflation and holiday gloom. There are so many things out there but here I am, stuck in my little orb.

I saw the world goes by before my eyes: Indonesia, America, Afghanistan, and many others. I laughed and I flirted and receive countless hugs from my friends. Yet mentally I am in my own little prison of the mind, unable to break free. I am there but I am not there.

A friend told me that it's ok. We all went through that phase where we had to start from zero again. Where everything we have is wiped out of existence and we have to build everything again from scratch.

I didn't know I was there. I don't want to admit I am there, or even its existence.

It hurts. I didn't want to admit how much it hurts because I don't want any man to have control over me. I don't want to love someone so deeply that it crippled me when they are gone. I am a strong independent woman that needs nobody. But it hurts. 

It hurts because I have been chasing this dream since forever. A house, a baby (pet), a man that loves me and only me. I just need to find the right person who is interested in me, I thought. I did and it failed. I just need to find the right person who will accept my love, I thought. I did and it failed. Failure after failure and I realized that love alone is not enough to keep a man. What is, then?

It's this realization that pierced me like a spear and grounded me. I tried the best I can and it's still not enough. I have moved the sun and the moon and rearranged the stars, and it's still not enough. I know the spiel of "He's not the right person for you", and I will counter that with "Does the right person even exist?"

I do not want love anymore. I do not want to hope and wish. I do not want to see my heart get shattered again. But what is left for me when my dream is shattered? When I can't see it ever happening or coming true? What is a person without the thing that fueled them?

A hard reset. That's what I need. I have been running my life under the program to make myself enough to be loved, to be kept against all odds. The smiles at dance parties, the infectious laughter at random meetups, all the crazy brazen adventures. I want to be so complete and so ready that my partner has to be crazy to even think of discarding me. I love myself because I want someone to love me too.

I need to reset all that and started a different program. Instead of running a program to find and be compatible with Husband 2.0, I need to run a program to maintain Ary.exe. The end goal is no longer a romantic happily ever after, but to live in peace with myself. I need to be complete and running properly for me.

It's hard because I feed on physical affection. I need hugs, embraces, kisses. I need hands gently stroking my hair. I need to feel someone's skin on mine. I need to see the light in somebody's eyes when they see me. My self-imposed celibacy has sent my stress level to the roof and I feel like I am slipping away. 

But I am good. I have to believe myself I am good without having to repeat that so many times and sounded like a conceited jerk. I have to believe I have more in me, and I can find another dream. I have to accept that my dream is not feasible, and it's ok.

It's ok to start anew. It's ok to find new hope, new dream, new ambition. It's ok to be by myself. 

I feel I have climbed so far up only to tumble down and found myself at the feet of the mountain. I feel I am insignificant and a failure. I feel I have lost everything I have fought for so ferociously and I just want to sit here at the feet of the mountain and weep.

I know this is temporary. Even right now, I can see hair-thin cracks on my self-imposed crystal orb. I know I will be fed up and start climbing again. I know I will be ok. Even with all my tears and my anguish, even as I cried for the death of my dream, I know when I am ready I will face the world again.

Hard reset is coming. And it's ok. It's ok to reset your dream. It's ok to be alone. I will be ok. I know that.

Kata dan Rantai

"Duh cuma dikatain aja udah down. Cemen banget sih."

Ada alasannya kenapa saya mengajukan restraining order/perintah putus kontak kepada mantan suami saya. Ya sudah sih ya, kita pisah sudah 5 tahun lebih. Mau sampai kapan terus saya hidup dalam bayang-bayang verbal harassment?

Lihat saya punya pacar baru, pacar saya terus dicari kesalahannya. Ya gendutlah. Ya yang kerja di fast food lah. Ya yang punya criminal record lah. Ya yang pincang lah. Ini diucapkan secara ejekan dengan harapan saya menjadi merasa malu dengan pasangan-pasangan saya. 

Saat saya membantah/meladeni, lalu saya yang dihina. Bahwa istri baru/si mbak lebih oke. Bahwa dia bisa menyetir dan saya nggak. Bahwa saya sampah murah yang nggak perawan saat menikah dan cuma dipakai laki-laki. Ya jadi kenapa elu masih kontak gue sih?

Banyak yang bilang saya harus diam. Cuekin aja. Anggap aja angin lalu atau gonggongan anjing. Omongan itu cuma sekedar omongan, dan saya terluka karena saya pasti masih peduli sama dia. Jadi ya salah saya karena saya terluka.

Ya nggak. 

Kalau tiap hari ada orang yang mencetus "Mbak/Mas bajunya terbalik!" kita jadi otomatis mengecek bukan? Walau orang ini kelihatan seperti tidak waras. Walau dia mengatakannya setiap hari, setiap kita lewat. Lama kelamaan kita jadi terkondisikan untuk mengecek baju sebelum kita keluar, agar bisa yakin saat dia meneriaki kita lagi.

Omongan itu membawa bobot, ada beratnya. Saat dikatakan/dicetuskan oleh seseorang yang kita hargai dan/atau kita hormati, orang tua atau atasan atau bahkan pasangan, semakin kita menghargai orang tersebut semakin dalam dampaknya.

Semakin lama dan semakin intens kata-kata ini diucapkan, semakin dalam dampaknya dan semakin sulit lepasnya. Bahkan dikala saya tahu saya disayang teman-teman saya, dikala saya tahu saya baik-baik saja, disaat ada trigger saya bisa hilang kendali lagi.

Tidak ada yang mau sama saya.

Saya tidak berguna.

Saya cuma dipakai lelaki.

Tidak ada yang benar tulus mencintai saya.

Tidak akan ada yang mau menikahi saya.

Saya tidak dan tidak akan pernah diinginkan.

Padahal saya tahu banyak yang mau, tapi saya yang sangat menjaga hati. Padahal saya tahu tuduhan ini tak berdasar, dan ini hanyalah modus operandi dia yang menyerang dengan hal-hal yang paling saya takuti. Padahal saya tahu saya bisa dengan mudah menyerang dia balik. Padahal saya tahu dia selalu stress nggak jelas seperti ini, dan bukan hanya saya korbannya.

Tapi saya tetap hilang kendali saat saya terpicu/ter-trigger. Saya tetap menjalani hari kerja seperti zombie. Saya tetap merasa amat sangat butuh dipeluk dan ditenangkan. Saya tetap jadi melihat kembali semua hubungan saya dan mempertanyakan apakah kata-kata itu benar. Apakah saya sebegitu buruknya sehingga saya terus gagal dalam hubungan. Apakah saya memang benar tidak berharga dan tidak diinginkan.

Cerita saya mungkin ekstrim, tapi ada banyak bentuk verbal abuse atau verbal harassment. "Elu bego banget sih." "Elu kayak sapi gedenya." "Elu begini aja ga becus." Disaat kata-kata yang meruntuhkan ini diucapkan terus dan terus, ibarat rumah yang terus terkikis arus sungai, lama-lama kepercayaan diri kita pun keropos.

Bukan kita yang harus menguatkan diri agar bisa 'budeg' dan tebal kuping, melainkan semua orang yang harus mengerti bahwa kata-kata pun bisa menyakitkan. Sudah saatnya kemanusiaan kita level-up dengan memikirkan apa dan bagaimana perasaan orang saat disakiti, 'walau hanya' secara verbal. Sudah saatnya kita belajar untuk jadi kuat dan mengontrol diri kita sendiri agar tidak menyakiti orang lain, atau bahkan bersuara saat orang lain tersakiti.

Karena argument "Sudah bagus cuma dimaki, bukan dipukulin" ini tidak masuk akal. Bila seseorang sanggup menyakiti orang lain walau tanpa kekerasan fisik, berarti ia tidak lagi melihat orang itu sebagai sesuatu yang setara dan kekerasan fisik mungkin tinggal tunggu waktu. Dan harusnya ya, harusnya, sebagai manusia yang berakhlak dan berbudi kita harusnya merasa tak nyaman melihat penderitaan orang lain, bukan malah berpuas diri.

Udahan ya kita bermulut jahat sama orang lain. Udahan juga kita lupa bahwa kita bernilai dan verbal abuse atau harassment itu tindakan yang merepresentasikan jeleknya si pelaku dan bukannya jeleknya diri kita. 'Jujur' atau 'ini kan fakta' atau 'hanya ingin membantu' itu bukan alasan untuk menjadi kejam. Never was and never will.

The Shadow

I can't stand myself.

I don't know the be exact time where I started feeling this way, but I absolutely hate myself right now. Everything with me is fake, is wrong. I am an imposter. There is nothing good about me.

I wish there was two of me so we can give each other some really good b-tch slap. There is nothing more that I want than pulling the hair on my other self while screaming up in her face how worthless she is. To give her a good terror and the anguish she justly deserve.

But why? What did she do that 'deserves' all this? The fact that people seemed to like her is also infuriating. Are they out of their mind? She gotta stop faking this "I am an innocent little princess" attitude because it's disgusting and dishonest.

I know this is depression. I know this is unhealthy. I know this is so very stupid. I don't know if this is because my relationship failed, or pandemic, or the combination of everything. I know I don't know the person I am right now. I know I hate her.

I hate her absolute stance on everything. I hate how quickly she erected barriers and cut off people that potentially or is hurting her. Chill b-tch. You are stronger than that. There's no pain that you can't take, so why the fear?

I hate her clinginess. The way she soaked up all the attention and beamed at every kindness. Dumbass, you survived being kicked out of the house, cheated on, getting divorce, AND threatened repeatedly without anyone you know in the US. Clinginess does not befit you.

I hate her for all of this. Her cowardice. Her fear. I hate how angry and frightened she is. I hate how she keeps making these stupid mistakes where she looks like a crazy, imbalanced woman. I hate how much she wanted to be loved, to be accepted.

I hate her because I love her. I love her so much I don't want anything bad to befall her. And human are inherently a piece of sh-t. You can expect other human to betray you, to turn your back on you. Or maybe they just can't see eye to eye with you and that's fine too.

Expectations are painful. Putting up hopes are painful. Ideally we are always in a zen where we understand to take none and expect even less. Ideally. She did so well before, but now it seems to concept is out of reach.

So I am trying to help her in the way I am sure of. By hating her. By telling her to f-ck it all. By giving her reasons why she is not good enough. By loathing on her so much that she will stop talking to other people. Because once she can do things on her own, she will be safe.

I know people will be pouring love into her when they read this. The damn attention wh-re. The stupid Bene-Gesserit witch. Maybe I shouldn't post this after all. She does not deserve those loves. It will only prolonged her misery. Stop faking it you filthy hag.

But maybe I should. I miss her. I miss her gaily laughter. I miss her confidence, her determination in life. I miss how she look at things in wonder, as if everything is glittery and bright. I miss how she always seem to shine and say, "Isn't life amazing?"

I want her back. I want her to sat next to me and looking at me in the eyes, and tell me with a smile and a lilting voice "It's going to be alright." Just as she did to many others before me. I want her to make things right again.

Until then, I can only do what I know what to do. Hating her. Being angry at her. Telling her all the bad things. Convinced her that she is worthless, unwanted. Assured her that she is selfish and unkind and despicable. This way I can protect her from other people. This way she will be safe.

I am such a good friend to myself.

Korban

Melihat postingan KJRI Los Angeles hari ini membuat saya ingin menonjok orang. Happy International Day of Democracy konon. Gini ya mas mbak yang terhormat, demokrasi itu kalau semua partisipannya setara. Apa kabar ketua KPI dan korban pelecehan seksualnya?

Lagi-lagi ya kita melihat nilai manusia di Indonesia tergantung tahta dan harta. Jabatan itu amanah. Ketua Komisi Penyiaran Indonesia pula, yang harusnya etik nomor satu. Garda depan moral Indonesia ceritanya. Eh malah korban yang diancam ITE. Situ waras?

Tapi brengseknya para pemegang amanah ini adalah juga cerminan jeleknya mayoritas masyarakat Indonesia. Mereka berani seperti ini karena tahu masyarakat nggak akan menyentuh. Tetep ke kondangan dengan gegap gempita karena tahu tamu yang lain akan menyembah jabatan dan hartanya. Hidup tetap aman damai.

Dan korban? Itu salah si korban. Pasti mereka diam-diam mau (yuhuuu Saipul Jamil kiss kiss). Cuma dipegang aja toh, nggak mati ato kehilangan sesuatu. Lebay dot com lah. Dan terutama saat korban perempuan, dibilang pasti dia yang gatal duluan. Dia yang bego mau dipergunakan. La la la.

Saya mengerti sih. Bagi kedamaian mental kita, sangat penting untuk menjerumuskan korban. Harus ada yang salah di diri mereka, karena kalo nggak berarti yang terjadi sama mereka bisa terjadi sama kita. Penting untuk mendiskreditkan korban karena yang terjadi pada mereka terlalu menakutkan bila terjadi pada kita.

Sayangnya fakta nggak akan berubah. Apa yang terjadi di KPI adalah bukti tak terbantahkan bahwa kekerasan seksual itu bukan soal nafsu. Kekerasan dalam bentuk apapun (termasuk seksual) adalah soal kontrol. Ini adalah bentuk primal, bentuk hewani kita yang ingin jadi predator puncak. Mau pakai rok mini atau baju hazmat nggak ada bedanya.

Kita bangsa yang santun konon. Tapi seringkali kesantunan kita membuat kita langsung buang muka atau tutup mata saat terjadi ketidakadilan. Bukan urusan kita, jadi jangan ikut campur. Atau saat kita menganggap korban kekerasan sebagai sesuatu yang nista dan dalam kesantunan kita kita menolak keberadaan mereka. Orang santun nggak terlibat dalam perkara rendahan begini bukan?

Saya punya harapan tinggi pada masyarakat Indonesia. Ada banyak yang sudah bersuara dan memperjuangkan. Semoga makin banyak yang vokal. Karena Indonesia amat sangat berpotensi maju, tapi kita nggak akan maju bila kita terus melihat rekan senegara kita sebagai ancaman atau sesuatu yang 'tak layak'.

Kekerasan, apalagi kekerasan seksual, bukanlah cerminan diri korban. Itu adalah cerminan diri pelaku. Korban nggak kehilangan apapun. Si pelaku yang kehilangan manusiawinya. Bagaimana kita melihat korban/pelaku pun cerminan dari kita sendiri. Bagaimana cerminanmu hari ini, hai kawan? Bagus?

Witch Fire

It's almost 11 pm and I am sitting on my bed crying. 

The last two months have been so draining and I don't know who am I right now. I started out July full of vigor and sass, and now I feel I am the most loathsome person alive.

I am selfish. I am inconsiderate. I am abrasive and cocky. I am not kind. I can't stand when all attention is not on me. I am crazy. I have no manner. I am a horrible, horrible person.

Words are chain that bind. Even when you know it was spoken out of anger and not truth. Even when you know it was spoken just to hurt you. The words stay. And they scarred you. They made it reactive for you so the next time something like that was spoken you lost your mind.

But maybe those words are right. Maybe it wasn't a self-defense. Maybe it's the truth. Maybe I do deserve all the bad things that's coming to me. Maybe I do deserve losing people I love. I am just not good enough.

Even as I tried to tell myself it is not true, I am still scared. When a friend told me he can't see anything bad about me I cried in relief. But after that bitter tears fell. What if it's because he didn't know the real me yet?

How many more people should I lost simply because of who I am? How many lonely nights I have to spend because I am too exhausting? Tonight, I wish I was not me. I wish I am silent and obedient. I wish I am not opinionated and hot headed. I wish I am not a raging witch-at-stake bonfire but a mere candle instead.

But I am not. And I will see my world burn to ashes one part at a time, because of who I am. If the fire is hot, what is this icy cold loneliness in my heart?

Suara Untuk Afghanistan

Hari ini saya mengirimkan e-mail kepada Representative distrik saya, dan kepada kedua senator untuk California. Intinya saya memohon mereka bersuara untuk mendesak pemerintah pusat/kepresidenan mengevakuasi pengungsi Afghanistan, terutama yang telah membantu Amerika/dianggap melawan Taliban dan berada dalam 'Kill List' mereka.

Saya tahu banyak orang yang bilang Amerika begini Amerika begitu. Amerika songong. Amerika jahat. Tapi disini di Amerika barulah saya punya kesempatan untuk perduli orang lain. Nggak akan kepikiran saya ikutan GoFundMe penggalangan dana evakuasi orang-orang di Afghanistan. Dan boro-boro saya menggantungkan harapan ke representatif di Indonesia kalau dana bansos saja dikorupsi.

Amerika bukanlah negara terbaik di dunia dan saya bukan mau menjual "Hidup Amerikahhhh!". Negara terbaik itu selalu relatif tergantung kita sendiri. Saya hanya ingin bertanya sih sama orang-orang di Indonesia: apa iya yang ada di Indonesia sudah 'terbaik' menurut kita?

Kadang saya melihat rakyat Indonesia seperti seseorang yang hidup dalam hubungan yang abusive, yang toxic. Yang saat disiksa verbal/dikata-katai, bilangnya "Sudah bagus tidak main fisik." Yang saat kena fisik bilangnya "Sudah bagus tidak mati." Yang kalau mati bilangnya "Yah nasib. Kasihan ya." Dan saat ada yang lantang menentang, diumpat dan dibilang "Elu jangan bikin hidup gue susah kenapa?!!"

Apa ini benar yang kalian maui? Yang dana bansos dikorupsi tanpa malu. Yang ketimpangan beragama tak lagi tertutupi. Yang glorifikasi kekerasan dan ketidakpedulian semakin membabibuta. Yang disaat masyarakat megap-megap berusaha bertahan hidup antara covid dan ppkm, pejabat malah perang baliho. Termasuk anak presiden yang konon merakyat.

Tidak heran kita menjadi bangsa yang getir. Yang menggosipkan orang lain dengan kejam adalah sesuatu yang biasa. Kita jadi bulan-bulanan penguasa, maka penting kita membulan-bulani orang lain agar kita tetap eksis. Penting untuk menginjak orang lain agar kita tidak menjadi yang terakhir diinjak. Ini bukan kejam, ini hanya sekedar taktik bertahan hidup.

Wajar juga kita tidak ada rasa welas asih pada orang lain. Di Amerika yang charity sudah sangat biasa, welas asih ini semakin terkikis dengan kehadiran like follow subscribe ala social media. Yang penting tenar. Di Indonesia yang duit dan kuasa adalah segalanya, apalagi. Boro-boro memperlakukan orang kecil setara, jijay bajay tralala kalau sampai bersinggungan. Eike kan famous bo'.

Pemimpin itu manusia. Rakyat yang memilih. Pemimpin harusnya takut sama rakyat, bukan sebaliknya. Dan karena pemimpin itu asalnya dari rakyat, tugas pertama untuk menjadi 'baik dan benar' itu berawal dari kita sendiri. Bagaimana bisa ada pohon tegar menaungi kalau bibitnya alang-alang?

Apa sih yang kita inginkan? Sedekah untuk kaum dhuafa, misalnya. Pemerintahan yang baik akan berusaha menyetarakan income masyarakat agar yang dhuafa mampu berdikari dan tak lagi dhuafa. Atau mendesak perlindungan untuk Palestina, contohnya. Boro-boro didengar soal Palestina, masih banyak orang yang berpikir Indonesia hanya negara cimot nggak penting dan bukannya negara terbesar populasinya no. 4 di dunia.

Ada kepuasan tersendiri saat tahu suara saya akan didengar. Apakah representative/senator saya akan melakukan yang saya harapkan? Mungkin tidak. Tapi ada harapan disitu. Ada kemungkinan bahwa bilamana ada cukup banyak yang bersuara maka sesuatu akan terjadi, bukannya hanya bisa pasrah karena tahu yang terjadi akan hanyalah suka-suka penguasa.

Dan ini, om tante mbak mas saudara saudari sekalian, adalah bagaimana harusnya hidup bernegara yang sehat. Hidup jadi tenang dan bisa menolong orang lain, yang mana bagi para pengejar pahala harusnya wow banget. Saya bisa menjadi pribadi yang lebih baik karena saya merasa aman dan 'dilihat'.

Sekali lagi, semua ini berawal dari kita. Masyarakat yang peduli orang lain akan membuahkan pemimpin yang peduli semua orang. Masyarakat yang malu saat ketahuan memanfaatkan orang lain akan memastikan si pemimpin takut memanfaatkan orang lain. Kita tidak bisa terus berharap akan Satria Piningit serba sempurna. Kita tidak bisa terus malas dan wateperlah.

Kita bisa menjadi macan Asia, bahkan lebih dari itu. Saat ini jumlah penduduk kita hampir sama dengan Amerika. Bayangkan bila semua penduduk Indonesia teredukasi, alangkah menakutkannya Indonesia di mata dunia. Yuk jadi lebih baik agar Indonesia lebih maju. Kita pasti bisa.

Afghanistan

I will be waiting at the shore

Where the quiet reign

And the river flow ever so gently

Beckons you to come

One by one you have come

Then in tens

Then in drove

Lost faces and anguished heart

Let your tears wet my cloth

Let my arms embrace your pain

Let yourself be released

From all your grief and your fear

The ferryman is patiently waiting

To take you to the peaceful place

He saw my worry and he gently smiles

"They will be alright."

"They will rest without fear.

They will spend time without pain.

They will no longer be unhuman.

They will know peace."

I took your callous, worry hand

Guiding you to the ferry

I kiss your cheeks and whisper a prayer

And a promise to meet you again

One by one you enter

Each more scared than the last

Unknown future, unseen worry

For fate has not been kind

But I will be there by the shore

Smiling at you

And you will see that death is kind

And calm. Very calm.

Not until your ferry is out of sight

Will I shed my tears and weep

A promise I have made for you

A promise I will keep

For your kin to be safe

For your kin to find peace

For your kin to be well

Until it's their time to go to shore

The blame game is buzzing loud

The ignorant is deafening

But all I can hear is 

The wind howling through your mountain

Peace be unto you my lost people

In the sad, in the grief, in the anguish

In the fear, in the anger, in the desperation

Peace be unto you

And I will be waiting for you

Standing with you

Loving and shielding you

Until it's time to go to shore

Peace be unto you.

Rome

The dance floors are empty. The halls are quiet. There's only whispers where music used to flow. Only few places remained to dance, and almost all are too far from me.

Rome wasn't built in a day. Neither does it built by one person only. Swing dancing happenings are the same. It was built by the event organizers, musicians, dance teachers, performers. It's a labor of love spanning on many dedicated years.

As the restrictions fall yet again, they are fretting. So much for their livelihood as another round of cancellation looming and uncertainty reign. Me, a common dancer, shared none of their concerns. It's unfortunate that I can't dance, but the restrictions doesn't bother my livelihood.

For them, they are stuck between the rock and hard place. Even with vaccination requirement, it may still be not the best idea to be in close contact with rotating random strangers. Even when they did their best to accommodate the dancers, they are still getting blasted on both ends.

"They should keep the dancers safe!" What an entitled thing to say. I agree that everyone's safety, including the dancers, should be a priority. Yet, can we not be more graceful? More compassionate, perhaps? 

At the end of the day, I can always dance. I can put on songs from my library or stream some music. I can have a little party with people I know. For them, there could be no next time. Two consecutive years of little to no income can destroy decades of hard work on building their businesses.

I know things are tough and many dancers are in an equally precarious state. Financial donations are always welcome, but at the very least keep them in your thoughts. At the very least remember the joy they have brought you. 

Thank you event organizers for the space and music to dance.

Thank you musicians for the rhythm that twirl and turn me off my feet.

Thank you dance teachers for the steps and tricks and how to move with the rhythm.

Thank you performers for the spices in our night and admiration that we felt.

Thank you all for precious nights and wonderful afternoons.

Thank you all for breathtaking dances and overflowing laughter.

Thank you all for making my life meaningful.

I hope to see you all again. 

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

POV (Point of View)

The words came like a sledgehammer to me. "I am a failure." It was a text from my friend. This amazing person, this vibrant soul who has been my pillar for years. All the things I have been through, I couldn't have done without them.

So when they texted me how their closest people blasting them for being a failure, for not being able to keep these people happy, all baseless accusation specifically made to broke them down, I saw red.

How dare they hurt this precious person. How dare they made this deity cry. Because I know this person and I know how capable they are. I know how much effort they put into everything they do, laced with care, sewn with affection. How dare these bastards ran a verbal knife to them like that.

I am even angrier at my friend. I am both angry and frustrated for their ability to see how precious they are. To let someone unworthy just trampled them like that. To be broken down like a worthless 99 cent glass instead of a priceless antique Waterford Crystal or a Baccarat.

Yet that's what abuse did. It erodes your mind, your confidence, your self-worth. The attack may look swift, but it was done in a period of time until those attacks become the norm. Until you don't know what were you before you were destroyed and reshaped. 

And all you can think of is how to satiate your abuser. Maybe if they are happy they won't attack me. Maybe if I play by their rule they will spare me. If someone angers them and I got the repercussions then f- that person. If I anger them then it's my own undoing and I should have been better.

The thing is, there will never be 'better'. You are a sand sack, ready to be punched whenever they feel like it. Sometimes physically, but always verbally. Even if you are perfect in every way, they will find flaws, mistakes, errors. This is never about perfection. This is about control. This is never about you. This is about them.

I know it's hard for people who were abused to believe in this. I am still struggling too. Another good friend told me they felt weird every time I said "Thank you for being nice to me." They are my friend and this is basic human decency. I know but there are times when I don't believe it. 

For me who has low self-confidence and went through two crash and burn relationships in which one was extremely abusive, I still get caught off guard by basic human decency. I still don't believe I deserve to be loved, to be treated nicely. I am still worried the backlash would come, the hand that pets me becomes the hand that strikes me. The words that lifted will be the words that smashed me.

I know the answer is love. Love from myself, love from others. Only with love I can realize my true worth, and stop willing to be treated badly. I must have been worth something if someone cares for me so deeply. But then the question is if I can see that someone cares for me, or am I going to stay blinded?

Babe, if you read this, please know that I love you. I love how our minds vibe. I love all the shades we throw. I love the many different things we can talk about. I love how kind and patient you are. I love how we can agree to disagree, which shows how understanding and open-minded you are. 

I know things don't feel this way right now. I know things feel so bad and so dark. I know you just want it to stop, to give in to the void and feel nothing else. And you know what, you deserve this break. I am just sitting here next to the hole you melted into, waiting until you are ready to come out. I am here, babe. I love you.

"I wanna love me (ooh)

The way that you love me (ooh)

Ooh, for all of my pretty

And all of my ugly too

I'd love to see me from your point of view

I wanna trust me (trust me)

The way that you trust me (trust me)

Ooh, 'cause nobody ever loved me like you do

I'd love to see me from your point of view"

- POV by Ariana Grande

Goldilocks

And I found myself chasing dream again

Looking at the windows

Knocking on doors

Letting myself in uninvited

Somewhere out there I will find the perfect fit

A delicious experience

A comfortable cuddle place

A place to rest my wandering soul

But I took what little deliciousness they can offer

And they will not offer me any more

I broke the chair that couldn't hold me

I was thrown from my sleepy nest

And the anger was unchecked

Rage against my insubordination

Fury for my daringness

And off I went running once more

I keep telling myself after houses are bad

The promise of forever is a poisonous treat

Walk away Goldilocks, walk away

Keep your little feet on the road

Yet once or twice I will look at the window again

At the warm fire dancing in the hearth

Of the comforting blanket and loving gaze

Of having something to call my own

Not right now, Goldilocks. Not right now.

Let your golden flocks bounced in the wind

Let the birds sang with you and the grass whistle

Let the wolves keep you warm under the ancient oak tree

My pretty dress is tattered and the dirt colored it

The calluses grow thick and the eyes grow dark

The loving girl was gone and the wild woman is born

Only the golden flocks stay

Sad Goldilocks, lonely Goldilocks, precious little princess

Looking for a home that's not for her

A dream that's a mere illusion

A love that's unattainable

Your deliciousness will flow freely, Goldilocks

As freely as the love you give the world

Your seat will be stronger than you are and twice as large

Your bed will be soft and inviting and perfectly yours

Until then, Goldilocks, stay true

To the lull of the forest and the song of life

To the things that love you like no other

And put your happiness above all

Kind Goldilocks, brave Goldilocks, priceless little queen

You will find your castle soon. I promise.

The Unloved

It's 6.30 am in Pomona and the street walkers are still out. One in tight leather skirt. Another in bright pink assemble. One woman, maybe not street walkers, sat at the bus stop in her nightgown with empty gaze.

Who will love them? Who will love the unloved? The ones huddled beneath all their belongings, their weak roots desperately grasping for some anchor even when knowing how easy they can be yanked once again.

Who will love those who only have their body to sell? It is not an easy way to make a living, but it will have to do. And even when you just had enough, you have to keep pushing through. There ain't no rest for the wicked.

Who will love the person who was screaming her head off at the bus stop? So erratic and so angry as if the world had taken everything good she ever has. Maybe the world did. Sometimes even God can be a dick.

It's a cold morning in Pomona. The sun shines gently atop the gold medallion tree, making their yellow flowers look even more bright and beautiful. I have my job, my lunch, a place to go home to. Life is good.

In another world a mere click away a war is raging between the vaccinated and unvaccinated, between progress and tradition. A constant race on the tiny screen to be the goodest boy/girl of all. Mining for likes, panning for fame, digging for followers.

Yet for the unloved none of this matter. None of the comfort I have is theirs. None of the debate, the race to glory, the keyboard war affect them. None of these will help them. They are invisible.

Good morning loved ones. I see you and I see your pain. I feel your struggle and I taste your bitter tears. I apologize for the hurt the world put you through. I love you then. I love you now.

The Plague

I am thankful for the USA. I have always been thankful, but recent events made me even more thankful.

Take Covid in Indonesia, as an example. Remember when we got so fed up with people stockpiling toilet paper and the price of hand sanitizer went through the roof? A friend told me in her city, an oxygen tank that was usually sold for $35 is now sold for $484. The Covid medicine Actemra that was sold for about $550 (around $750 in the hospital) is now a whopping $12,450 in the drug mafia. That is if you can get it.

Antibiotics are gone. Hospital beds are gone. Healthcare workers are diminishing from Covid infection and overwork. But that's maybe why the people take such small care about Covid. Health and longevity are reserved for the rich only or those with titles. Only Lords and Ladys deserve to live, others are meant for the grave.

This is what's so different from the USA. We talked about inequality over and over again. While it is great that we set our eyes on being better, we often forget how far ahead we are compared to other countries. 

Here in the US, I have the right to live. Not just living, but actual quality living. I deserve not only ways to keep this body of mine staying alive (food, healthcare, etc), but also staying alive in a way that nourishes me. I deserve to be treated as a human being, not a peasant whose only sole purpose in life is to feed the rich.

I know a lot of Americans feel that way. With billionaires' space race and politicians' arrogance, we are nothing but their pawn. But this is America. We can still have so much more. You could have jobs, school, everything if you wanted to. It is not easy for some, but it's not a definite "no" just because you don't have the same religion, or even not the preferred sub-race, skin color, or weight.

I am thankful for Americans who step up to help others, seeing nothing but fellow human in need. I am thankful for Americans who did not step up to help others, but at least not sneering and talking shite about what a useless action that would be. I am thankful for Americans who look down and made it public that selfishness is not an option.

It never was. Not in America. Even when there are those who will double down on being a dick (from both sides of the fence), there will be others who will furrow their brows and said: "That's not cool". As a person who previously thought I had to continuously fight on my own just to 'live', that made so much difference. 

It is always heartbreaking to see Americans seeing horrible things about the US. It was a painful road to obtain my citizenship and I am still paying for it right now, but it's worth it. The freedom is worth it. The equality is worth it. The safety in financial and human rights is worth it. 

I hope Americans can see this instead of continuous squabbling because the world needs our help. Indonesia, India, remote parts of Asia. We are the world's distant cousins who have the job, the stability, the power to make other family members behave. We are important enough to force that delusional aunt to give proper care to her children. We can make a difference.

Please, for the love of anything holy and the mercy of everything grand, please get our heads out of our asses and help them. This is 2021 and in Indonesia the people who can afford to live are only those with money and social status. How absurd is this?