Dear Little Turtle

I hate you. Or, at least I did. 

I still remember the first time I met you: so petite and dainty like a fresh spring rose, with a smile so sweet it almost give me diabetes. In my mind you are toxic, dangerous, loathsome. Yet people surrounded you with adoration, and the combination between their awe and your aura of beauty hurt me and burned me like the sunlight turned the vampire into ashes. Looking at you from a distance hurt me. Being with you in the same room hurt me. Your existence in this world hurt me. I envied you, can't you tell? I can be as witty and as gaily as possible, yet the eyes will still be on you. I was the kind of people that others will easily stepped on just to be a tad bit closer to people like you. As if your glamour would spread. Diarrhea spread, glamour not so much.

Then we're somehow stuck together. I still hated you that time. A tiny part of me was still insecure, but I have grown to love myself too. I had someone who love me. I had a good job. I was invincible in my own way. And most of all, I know for a fact my boyfriend couldn't care less on how you look. Which is a big plus. I was still uncomfortable with you, and still loathed the fact that you probably sailed through life thanks to your looks alone while I have to strive and pull myself out from the bottom of the abyss just to where I was at that point. Which is not entirely true. I have had many helps too along the way. But still, I was not as good looking as you are. So we're stuck together. Big deal. I care only about getting out of there ASAP, and I really don't care about your existence.

Then we talk about work. You said you wish you could get a job like mine, I told you how to apply. Me and my big mouth. There is a good, a really good chance that you could end up taking my position. You, after all, got all the necessary requirement for most Indonesian job: soft spoken, cute, a total darling. Yet I still told you how to apply, because, you know, I'm careless like that. When it worked out, I thought I gained a colleague. Which is really cool, because then I can use you as my sub when I can't go to work, and I can get more hours as your sub when you can't go to work. I maybe honest but I am not dumb. Everything has its worth. We didn't stay colleague for long though. Somewhere along the way, with the speed that match a viral disease (or it seemed like it), we ended up being closer and closer to each other. The next thing I know, we were friends.

Even then, sometimes I didn't know if I was really your friends or if you were just using me, as a diva would use her entourage. I have people shamelessly called themselves your best of best friends, and even as I teased you about it I can't help thinking, "What if it's true? What if they are really her BFF and I am nothing but a bystander?". But at that point, I like you so much that I really don't care. It was too much fun to be with you. You exasperated me every time you got sad and just hide in your little house like a good little turtle. I would knock on your house and wave a little cucumber (read: invitation to have a good time) and hope you will take the bait and let me have fun with you, because I really do enjoy your company. We laughed together, eat together, cry together. Description ceased to exist, what we are to each other is unimportant, all I know is that I had fun when I was with you.

When I have to move out, it seemed that our friendship would not last. Our conversation got shorter and shorter and, combined with your tendency to retreat to your 'house' when the world is too much for you, at times I thought that was the end. You didn't care. I started to forget. Of course, none of it was true. A good friendship is the one that will stay forever and you will never forget the how-to, just like riding a bike. Ours was equivalent with a super-solar-powered-with-extra-booster-back-to-the-future-bicycle. Pretty rad and much amazing. You were the one I called when I broke up with my boyfriend. I was the one you told when you got married. I dished out how I was going to meet this man out of nowhere from a dating site, and you enthusiastically cheered me up because you know I can, all while chowing down a big plate of Tuna Satay. Some things never changed.

And here we are. Both married, both with kid(s). And I still envy you at times. I even wanted your kid marrying someone from my side of the family, just to have your good look in the family. I know, I love you so much. The only reason why I keep doing what I have to do, braving myself and trying to be good and successful is just because I don't want to fail you. I think highly of you, and you might not know this. You stick to your gun, take the risk, defied all odds just to have your dream. Just to have what you wanted. And that is awesome. You might do it because you felt you don't have any other choice, but you still did it and sticking to it. And that is still awesome. I don't think I've ever done something that brave or that gutsy. Well, I could get crazy at times, but it is different. I don't really fear anything, so whatever crazy things that I did are not me being brave, it's just me being crazy (and reckless). And this is why I adore you so much. You got beaten in life, and you cry and you pout and you're sad, but you still got up and live your life. That's called endurance. That's called gutsy. That's called taking the life by its balls. No, for real.

Living in US taught me a lot of things. Being so far from my friends and family allowed me to see more things objectively. Most importantly, I learned that a$$holes are not race-related or geographically-bounded. The translation is: A$$holes are everywhere. The realization came to me almost like the Sixth Sense scene where the kid whispered: "I can see a$$holes..." Oops. I mean, "I can see dead people." Living in US helped me prove my theory: people are people. There are nice people, there are kind people, there are assholes and narrow minded people that would go hell-bent on trying to make you live the life that they think is correct. And knowing that they're a$$holes still doesn't help. It still hurts when you are subjected to such a$$holery, or to see someone subjected to it. Ideal world would be a place where people actually care on what other feels, regardless of their race/religion/whatever worldly attribute they choose to identify with themselves. For instance, I do not think I should adhere to "How To Properly Eat Sushi Without Insulting The Japanese" which includes the proportion on Wasabi vs soy sauce that I can use in my sushi and the angle on dipping the said sushi plus how long I should dip it for. At least not when I only ate $3 supermarket sushi that I bought on sale. My motto is: live your life the way you wanted to, but leave mine alone.

[To be fair, that motto is kinda f*cked up since I've been trying to make people good about themselves and be more sympathetic and caring to other people A.K.A changing people's life, all to achieve my own goal for peace on earth and the day where I don't have to say "What dafuq is this sh*t??!". Each to it's own I guess.]

Of course, knowing what's happening is not the same as managing your feeling. And so, little turtle, you have all the right to be grumpy, to be sad, to cry, to be mad. People can be evil, and there's no change in that. You would think you know someone, just to have that person turn into beast in front of your eyes, or in your computer/phone screen. You get the gist. When that happens, don't look into them. Look into you. You are kind, you are sweet, you are full of love. You are brave, you are strong, you are precious. You reached out to me and keep me close unconditionally, and that alone shows how special you are. Whenever the world seemed to be against you, read this letter again and have faith in yourself. Look around you and think, think hard, will you change any aspect of yourself just to accommodate what people say? And then look deeper and remember yourself as I see you: my darling little turtle, so brave and so gutsy. I would call you an armadillo, but a turtle seemed cuter. So there. 

We live, we learn. Unfortunately some people doesn't. You can't change a person's heart, nobody can, not even themselves unless they have a strong reason to (and a great self control to boost). But you, you're something else. Everybody is something else, to be exact; but we're not talking about everybody else, we're talking about you. You love, is special. Don't let anyone else talked you out of it. Don't let anyone else convinced you otherwise. Don't let anyone else made you feel shitty. And if they do, kick 'em in the balls. I love you, my little turtle. Now go and kick some balls.

Dear Amanda, Sorry They Hurt You Again

Dear Amanda,

Sorry they hurt you again. In the olden days, when you are dead, you are dead. Today, even when you are dead one can still find your picture and defile you with harsh, foul words. I am glad you can't relate to that anymore, but I know how hurtful it must have been for people who knew you. It hurts me too, and I don't even know you.

It hurts to see your face attached to Kurt Cobain's, with a tagline that suggested that people should know him and not you. Why, I wonder. Why compare a long-dead musician who killed himself due to depression with a little girl that killed herself due to hateful bullying? One killed himself because he can't handle the "love", one killed herself because she can't handle the hate. It's not even a comparison. He's a person they never met before, an idol that is alleviate to god-like place just because he is dead in the peak of his career. But you, dear Amanda, you can be their sister, their niece, their friends. You can be someone close to them, someone that they care and love, and your death can devastate them more thoroughly than a person who they never met before. 

It hurts to see your photo used that way, as a cheap trick to illustrate a girl's disinformation about the so-called fabled band of Nirvana. A band that most of the children in your generation probably never even heard about, nothing but a mere "cool brand" to emphasize how cool they are, just like the brands of shoes and clothes they are wearing. Why not choose other musician, a notably terrible one from your generation? Surely there are aplenty. Or choose a male actor, one who is equally lousy yet famous. Those too are also aplenty. Why do they have to use your photo, Amanda? Why do they have to treat your death as something irrelevant, as something trivial and subject to ridicule? The moment you were born in this world, you changed it. It may be insignificant to some, and fully unrecognizable by others, but you changed it. We all changed the world we live in, and so have you. 

It hurts me most to see people commenting hurtful things about you: 

These are people who somehow think they are better than you. These are people who do not stop hurting you even after your death. These are people that think they are so fine and you are just a worthless junk. These are people who thinks they can do no wrong. I want them to walk in your shoe, I dearly hope they can walk in your shoe before they said these things, and see how they fare. But nobody can truly understand how you feel, your agony and pain, your humiliation and loneliness. And nobody can bring you back to life, not even if these people blessed with an epiphany of how you suffer throughout your days.

I often wonder Amanda, what kind of people who taunt you and pushed you so hard that you had to take your own life. What kind of sick person that take glee in hurting someone else, that think you worth less than they are? But I probably should have understand. As you can see I was called a dumb bitch just because I mistakenly stated in my comment that Kurt Cobain died from overdose, just because of that trivial reason. And you, dear Amanda, you have to live with far, far, far worse than that. These are the people that took you away, Amanda. People who are high and mighty and think they are better than others, and thus have all the right to hurt and disrespect other people. People who cast judgement and "punishment" without understanding what happened. People who satiated their hunger for power by hurting and oppressing other people, and take delight from other's defeats and ruins. These are the people who took you away from us, and they will take more away.

I too, am one of them. I cast my judgement upon these people, these monsters who had no respect for a deceased girl. I wanted to hurt them, to called them names and disrespect them just as they disrespect you. I want them to feel the agony and humiliation that you feel and let them realize how insignificant they are, how worthless they are. But what will happen afterwards? Will I get satisfaction, will I get addicted to that feeling, will I be another bully in the playground? These people too, are special for someone else. These people too, have changed the world we live in. These people too, are humans like you and I. And even if they do not deserved the respect, you do. That is why I erase their names, and other names in the pictures. You deserve that respect. 

The bullying must stop. The hurting must stop. And it must stop now.

But for now, rest in peace dear Amanda. Rest in peace.

More about bullying:

I Am Not Special

It's Hard to be Different

The Parents' Prose: In memory of Rebecca Sedwick

The Parents' Prose: In memory of Rebecca Sedwick

"Her parents told ABC she was a loving, caring young girl who is not a bully.
'My daughter's Facebook was hacked, she would never write anything like that. She's not that type of girl that would just say something like that." - Read more here.

"The goblin/dwarf turf war had flared up again, and every morning hordes of angry parents showed up demanding the release of their innocent offspring...

They were on her like flies on stink-worm.
'My Grumpo is innocent!'
'Police brutality!'
'Officer, could you take my baby in his blanky? He can't sleep without it.'" - Artemis Fowl by Eoin Colfer, published in 2001

I looked at my little girl: she is the prettiest girl I've ever seen. I am so fortunate to be able to provide her with a safe, protected life, one that enables her to grow to her optimum abilities. She has admirers and loved by all, that is for sure. Why not? She is kind and strong, the epitome of all young ladies should be. She is the sun of my life, a tough person who can go and reach her destiny. How I love my daughter!

I looked at my little girl: she was the prettiest girl I've ever seen, and she still is even with tears in her face. I have strive to provide her a safe, protected life, one that enables her to grow to her optimum abilities, yet here she is, curled in pain. She was alone, but I loved her dearly. Why not? She is sweet and graceful, the epitome of all young ladies should be. She is the sun of my life, a gentle soul who touch others heart with her kindness. How I love my daughter!

The accusations were harsh, and so untrue. My little angel would never do such a thing to another person. She is loving, caring, wonderful! This squirmy little worm must have bring it on the herself, or organized by somebody who is jealous with my little princess. It does not matter. What matter is how my girl can keep on living and free from this terrible accusations.

The words were harsh, and so untrue. To be called with names, and to be disgraced and humiliated in public, my little angel would never understand why someone needs to do it to another person. She is loving, caring, wonderful! There is no reason to justify why she has to be treated so terrible, nor did she fake the attacks on her. It does not matter. What matter is now my girl has been freed from this horrible ordeal.

That cowardly fool! Children mock each other everyday, heart broken and then mended. There is no reason for her to end it like this. And blame my princess even. That stupid, cowardly fool!!

That wretched girls! Words and humiliation stopped being a game when they see the terrible effect on my little girl and yet still keeping it forward. There is no reason for them to keep hurting her. That terrible, wretched girls!

Don't worry my love, I will always be beside you and release you from the horrible jail. You are not to be blamed for the mistake a stupid fool who is too weak to defend herself. Cursed that cowardly weaklings!

Don't worry my love, I will always be beside you even though you have gone in to the coldness of death. You are not to be blamed for taking this way out. I am sorry I couldn't help you earlier. Curse my human weakness!

Now rest my love, my pretty girl, my dearest angel

Mommy is here by your side

Always

In memory of Rebecca Sedwick:
Rest in peace dear girl, no one will hurt you again.

More on bullying: http://kucinghitamjalanjalan.blogspot.com/2013/09/its-hard-to-be-different.html

It's Hard to be Different

Picture from CNN article: Boy asks Santa to make kids stop bullying his sister

It's hard to be different. In the animal world being different means being dead, because the predator will easily spot "the freak" and have it for lunch. It also means rejection from their peer because they too will be easily spotted when "the freak" hang with them, and it probably does not worth the risk. Despite our constant bragging of how much better we are than animals, we human did this too. The tendency to become the predator and devour the weak was too much for some people to handle. Like a hyena that feeds itself with its prey, a bully needs the fear and emotion of the victim to feed his/her own emotional hunger. And just like the animal peers, there are also people who do not actively bully but rejected "the freak" nonetheless for the so-called-normality of their group. Some of us apparently fell off the evolution wagon.

These happened daily around the world. Some people labeled the bully incident as racism and discrimination, which eventually leads to war cry especially if it involves a hot topic case such as race or gay/LBGT or religion. The result is a whirlwind of accusations from both party, those who support the victim and those who support the bully, all comes completely armed with valid arguments and a well-packed set of name calling. A group would spoke out against the little girl's bullying incident and said the bullies are to be blamed, yet another group will spoke out and say it's her fault to be fat and she should be normal size for her own good anyway. In the end everybody just hate each other. Let's stop it.

A Bully is someone who picked on another person for being different. Small body size, big body size, normal body size, white skin, brown skin, black skin, the weird geek, the honor student, the school's athlete, the cheerleader, each of this characters can all be a victim or a bully depends on his/her own position. There is no simpler rule of why someone is bullied other than he/she was different than the rest of the peer. Instead of labeling the bully incident as an act of discrimination and focused on why the victim was attacked, label it as what it should be: an attack of another human being just for being different, a predatory act that can be averted by understanding that each of us is different. 

No two hearts shaped the same, and even twins would have minor differences between them. Humans may act like a group, but our advance intelligence is unique to each one of us. It is time for us to understand that humans come in many shapes and colors, and each of us has our own story to tell, our own struggles to live with. This does not mean you have to force yourself to accept people. This means you have to force yourself to leave them alone and not preying on them. You are entitled of what your opinion about people because it was a  result of your bearing and the environment you are exposed to, it is who you are. But you are not entitled to harm people. No one is entitled to harm others. Some people claimed the victim should be more assertive in protecting themselves. As ideal as it sounded, the fact of the matter is if the victim were ready to protect themselves they wont be the prey from the first place. The solution is not prepping the victim to be aggressive, it's to prep the bully to be not aggressive and to make every single one of us comes to the realization that each of us human is uniquely different.

The walls are crumbling and the diversity flood is coming through. First black president, legality of gay marriage, rights for LGBT community, and more recently the first Miss America from Indian descendant. With the advancements of internet and medias we are exposed to more and more diversity: various skin colors and body shapes and line of thinking and way of life to name a few. You can either use it to understand the vastness and greatness of life and world itself, or hide in your own shell with people who (you think) think alike and guard your "community" closely. My suggestion is to come out there and enjoy life. Be humbled on the majesty of life and the beauty of human being. Realize that you are special, but so do others. Stop preying. Stop being an animal. Start being human.