Loyalty

Isn't it funny, no, f*cked up, that I can tell people how loyal I am and nobody will believe it? Isn't it crazy that I can say I don't jump from dick to dick and it sounds like I did exactly that? Isn't it sad how our mind works?

Loyalty these days feels like an LV bag. The more prominent the logo, the more likely it is a fake. Nobody can afford loyalty anyway. Nobody is good enough to earn it, nobody is honorable (or stupid) enough to give it.

The result is we are looking at loyalty like the pearl brooch you found in Goodwill. It's probably worthless. Or like an item on clearance rack. It's probably junk. Loyalty is too good to be true.

A part of it is because how we perceive ourselves. I know I don't think I deserve loyalty. So I never expect it. I am too... difficult. I know people eventually will drift to an easier person to hang with.

Another part of it is the experience we've been through. I will always think that people will cheat, no matter what. A lifetime experience of seeing it happened around me, and with me, made me think loyalty is a myth.

These are my experiences, but look into yourself. When was the last time that special someone failed to answer your text/call/ whatever in timely manner and you immediately think he/she is being unloyal?

In the era where everything is nothing but fleeting moments, where nothing seems real nor tangible, where relationship is as seasonal as Target display, loyalty seems like a joke or as outdated as payphone.

I found myself questioning that concept many, many times. Why do I bother being loyal? To the place I am working. To my friends and family. To the guy I am not even in a relationship with. I don't trust them to be loyal to me anyway.

The answer hits me everytime, like a bitter pill to swallow. I am not loyal because they demand my loyalty, I did it because I choose to. And in any given time I am free to take it back and give it to someone else.

Just like love, loyalty is purely free will. Both cannot be bought. Both cannot be demanded. Both cannot be forced. Both has to be given freely. And yes, the recipient may choose to not reciprocate it.

In life I find this is difficult to accept, this is so unfair. But then, does it mean that my love and loyalty is insincere? That it was offered only for the hope of being loved or getting loyalty back? Is the feeling not pure?

In the end, what we present might not matter to the other person. What we perceive as precious gift might be seen as fake or bizarre, or filled with hidden motive. Loyalty, as we've discussed, is foreign these days.

Why am I still stubbornly loyal? Because that's who I am. Because that's how I choose to be. Because at the end of the journey I want to be able to look back and said to myself, with head held high: "Yea, we did our best".

It aint easy being loyal. It aint easy to steadfastedly stood for your choices, for your belief, weathering it through storms of trials and temptation. Yet cutting it loose is even harder. This is something I still need to learn.

Hallo Hari Senin

Saya benci dunia hari ini. Di media Indonesia melihat soal ibu dan anak yang dibully #gantipresiden2019. Di media Amerika melihat soal karavan migran dari Meksiko yang ditolak masuk Amerika. Di media lainnya beragam kesusahan dan kematian silih berganti.

Mungkin karena pas weekend saya tidak mengecek berita, sibuk menjalani kehidupan saya. Dunia saat weekend berputar pada acara dansa saya, gossip seru bersama teman akrab, sms genit sama gebetan terbaru, dan memasak beragam jenis makanan.

Tapi walau saya tidak ngeh, dunia tetap berputar. Masih banyak orang diluar sana yang menangis sementara saya tertawa. Masih banyak yang meninggal disaat yang lain dilahirkan. Walau saya tidak menyadarinya, bagi orang lain cobaan terus berlanjut.

Lalu datanglah hari Senin. Saya jadi punya waktu untuk mengecek dunia dalam perjalanan saya ke kantor. Sedih. Depresi. Ingin menangis dan bertanya pada Tuhan, "Tuhan, kok begini??" Merasa tidak ada artinya dan malu akan kebahagiaan saya. Saya benci hari Senin. 

Tapi bukan salah hari Senin manusia tak mampu menghadapi godaan nafsu. Bukan salah hari Senin manusia bersikap beringas pada sesamanya. Bukan salah hari Senin dunia terasa begitu timpang dan tidak adil. Ini kejadian tiap harinya. Terus sepanjang sejarah manusia. 

Saya nggak bisa menghentikan perang. Saya nggak bisa jadi wonder woman dan membela si ibu CFD saat itu juga. Saya nggak bisa membuat para gelandangan punya rumah, atau para korban kekerasan menghilangkan trauma mereka.

Yang saya bisa lakukan hanya berada disini. Yang saya punyai hanyalah telinga untuk mendengarkan, mulut untuk memberikan kata dukungan. Yang saya punyai hanyalah tangan untuk menghapus air mata, lengan untuk memeluk, dan kaki untuk menuju ke orang yang butuh bantuan.

Semua ini jelas tidak cukup untuk 'membetulkan' dunia, tapi paling tidak, walau hanya sebentar, saya masih bisa 'membetulkan' dunia seseorang. Paling tidak ada yang merasa ia tidak lagi sendiri, dan hidupnya tidak seberat yang ia pikir.

Halo hari Senin. Saya benci kamu. Kamu nggak seru. Kamu bikin saya stress. Tapi kamu memberikan saya kesempatan untuk sekali lagi berada disini untuk seseorang. Terimakasih ya. Terimakasih banyak. Sampai bertemu lagi.

Dear Artists and Passersby

When randomly googling my name, I found out back in 2015 somebody mentions my work in an article that she wrote. I reached out to her on Instagram, and we happily chatted. She said my article (which she mentioned) helped her a lot. To say I am humbled is a gross understatement.

Here's the thing, 2015 was not a pleasant year for me. It was rife with insecurity, instability, and a lot of anger and grief. To know that somehow my work at that time manage to inspire people was nothing sort of miracle. And my work is not an easy read. It never was.

I thought no one read my work, or maybe just a handful. It doesn't stop me from writing, though. It might help people who read it, I keep telling myself, even if only very few. There are times when I just want to quit, but I can't. My excuse was, somewhere out there, there might be people who think what I write is useful. Of course, when I found it really was the case, it was still mind-blowing.

I immediately told my fellow Indonesian writer in USA about what happened. I told her, because we shared the same loneliness of being far away from home, that even though we feel we're out of place at times, our work may have helped people, even inspire them. We might just don't know about it. 

And it is true to any form of art, or anything that you put in public. I haggled the photographer and the filmmaker I know to keep taking pics and make videos for this exact reason. Hiatus is bad not only because skill is something that can only get better the more you use it, but also because someone out there might break a smile, or awe in wonder because of our work.

I can't tell you how many times I am 'saved' by something someone made and put in public. Pretty much every day, really. There are always things that make me smile, ponder, or amaze. And that makes life worth living, makes the world a better, more fun place to be.

And yes, smile and kind gestures included. Imagine ourselves like dominoes. Everything we do in public will have an impact on other people's lives, even as small as a smile or a frown. We are not made of steel, devoid of feeling and emotions.

So artists, your work matters. So passersby, your existence matters. Thanks for touching my life. Thanks for making the world an exciting place to be.