Beyond Repair

It is one week before three years.

The last time I ever felt that deep, soothing, embarrassing, red feeling of non-quantifiable warmth seeping, like from afar, yet it inhumed every doubt I ever had in the past 548 days before. It was extremely delicate and light that seemed too perfect to be readily available by my very eyes. I thought that perhaps, the odds were finally in my favor… but what was ethereal, I learned, should be treated cautiously. If it was surreal, it was probably never real.

Of course it wouldn’t end in an Eden filled with blooming flowers and colorful leaves. Of course it was doomed. Of course someone ate the forbidden fruit.

Of course I was wrong.

Grief that was carefully concealed, moved to the land of possibilities. The entire performance was imbued with sparkle and elan, until finally someone needed a fresh air to breath. To think. To realize that the malefic seed was gnawing every last drop of confidence that was seriously crafted.

You can put faces outside, soaked in a beautiful blue lagoon, sip the finest cocktails, enjoy the most luxurious box of chocolates. But the hollow, the cavity, that concave little hole of shit, is not to be treated with a drugstore receipt. A profound understanding of why and how it happened, the consequences, the possible treatment, the alternatives, are to be considered in a well, thoughtful manner.

You could be ruined beyond repair.

Until the point that what was once nifty piece of work seems to be dull and outdated. The idea is obsolete. The people are assholes. And everything associated with this beautiful grace is in no way more than cock-and-bull story. It was magical, it is still supposed to be magical, but your senses are telling you that it is all unreal.

Roots of bitterness clasp you hard enough to break your conviction. That at the end of the day, the world is nourishing human loneliness. Just what is the point of it all? Millions of people in this world, all in the pilgrimage of soul-searching, tumbled across roses filled with thorns.

Someone will be at the end of this tunnel, waiting to restore the belief that is lost, to show another person that love and compassion are still alive, and very much relevant. Everyone else is enjoying this sweet delicacy — it is not a privilege.

It truly should not be a privilege. It’s supposed to be a basic human right that is not too difficult to access.

Only wish for one thing: no more pyrrhic tales. Please. Make real-life halcyon days a reality.

Rest well, lovely souls. If I can, I will put you in my prayers. Good night.

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Belajar Ikhlas

Bukan, gue bukan mau sok-sok alim edisi Ramadhan. Bukan juga ngeclaim kalo hati gue sekarang udah bersih banget. No. Gue cuma mau nulis aja, ga lebih dan ga kurang.

(Btw, yeay for, finally, a post in Bahasa! Although I’m using everyday language, but still :P)

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Alhamdulillah kita masih bisa ketemu bulan suci Ramadhan lagi. Setelah ngalamin kecelakaan yang hampir fatal setahun lalu, gue jadi sadar kalo…. idup tuh pendek. Lo gak akan pernah tau kapan lo ninggalin dunia ini, jadi savor the moment sebaik dan sebisa mungkin.

Gue gatau kapan tepatnya, yang jelas rasa itu muncul di awal bulan Ramadhan 1436 H ini. Munculnya tiba-tiba. Rasanya…. sejuk, that’s the word. Kayak nyelusup masuk ke relung-relung hati, dan menyiram semua bagian hati gue yang tersakiti ini (haha). Gue senang bisa ngerasain perasaan ini, it’s like it glows inside me. Kayak pengharum ruangan yang ga abis-abis.

Sebelumnya gue mau cerita kalo di tahun ini, gue putus sama mantan pacar gue. Di saat yang sama, gue juga memulai hidup baru dengan pekerjaan baru yang alhamdulillah lebih enjoy dilakuin. So it’s like a battle of contrasting feelings. Kadang gue seneng apalagi tiap abis liat slip gaji (hehe), tapi juga kesedihan yang gue rasain kok kayak gak ilang-ilang. Mungkin karena gue putus baik-baik. Gue dan mantan gue cocok dalam banyak hal, tapi orang tuanya emang ga suka sama gue, for some illogical reasons. Beneran illogical. Ya lo kata aja dah nama lo beserta tanggal lahir dan hari lahir dibawa ke kiai-kiai entah darimana terus semua bermimpi kalo lo dan orang itu “jika bersatu akan menimbulkan perpecahan”. Semua mimpinya seragam. Emangnya film layar tancep apa. Dan alasannya cuma karena itu, walaupun gue yakin sih ada alasan-alasan lain yang lebih materialistis. Yaudalah ya.

Terutama tiap abis pulang dari rig, gue suka sedih. Ketika lo capek abis berkutat dengan matahari 38C dan jalanan hutan sawit yang harus dilewatin dengan 4WD, normal kan kalo lo pengen disayang. Jablay ye. Di saat-saat kayak gitu gue suka nyalahin Yang Maha Kuasa kenapa mempertemukan gue dengan orang yang baik tapi dipisahin lagi. Like, apa sih salah gue, berapa kali ketemu orang bisanya cuma jadi “mantan” (baik mantan kekasih maupun mantan cem-ceman, hahaha!).

Terus soal kerjaan.

Dalam beberapa hal, ada aja yang ga sesuai sama ekspektasi gue. Gue ga bisa bohong kalo kerjaan kayak gini itu butuh mental yang lebih kuat daripada gue yang kemaren-kemaren, yang bisanya menye-menye dodol nyusu sama emak. Tapi yang bikin gue kesel sebenernya bukan itu. Gue sebel karena gue ga bisa menjawab pertanyaan,

Quo vadis?

Mau kemana?

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Gue tuh selalu punya rencana. Selalu. Dan rencana gue selalu konkret, ga pernah abstrak. Gue anti banget sama yang namanya, “Yaudah jalanin aja”/ “Go with the flow”/ “Biarkan air mengalir”. Zzzzz. Gue ga suka jalan-jalan random, nyobain menu baru yang tampak aneh, beli tiket pesawat go show, apalagi gambling sama yang namanya takdir. Hidup gue tuh harus berjalan sesuai plan A. Untuk mencegah segala deviasi, gue bikin plan B, C, D, E, F, sejauh mungkin kemungkinan yang gue bisa pikirkan.

Ketika lulus kuliah, semuanya terbentang di depan mata gue.

Pas SD, gue tau harus masuk SMP 5. Abis itu gue tau harus ngejer SMA 3. Abis itu gue harus masuk ITB. Abis itu gue harus masuk Tekim. Abis itu gue harus dapet G*n*s*a P*ize (alay nulisnya haha!). Abis itu gue harus masuk oil&gas sesuai amanah nyokap gue. Terus?

Sumvah ya, kalo ada satu hal yang harus gue pelajarin, itu adalah career planning. 

Makanya gue bete. Karena saat ini ga ada yang bisa direncanain. Your career changes everyday, apalagi di industri serba dinamis ini. Dan gue juga harus inget, sekarang gue gak cuma bawa diri gue sendiri kalo mau membuat keputusan. Ada keluarga inti, extended family, dan nantinya suami-anak.

Di sini nya sendiri, gue juga gatau ke depannya gimana. Karena gue cewek, pasti ga bakal lama di lapangan. Terus gue jadi engineer di kantor. Terus?

Pertanyaan-pertanyaan seperti, kapan ya bisa S2. Aduh tapi siapa yang mau rekomendasiin, siapa yang mau biayain, abis S2 gimana caranya cari kerja lagi, kan gue masih cupu pengalamannya? Kapan ya bisa nikah. Aduh tapi siapa yang mau gue nikahin, jodoh aja entah dimana. Kapan ya punya anak. Aduh gimana ngurusnya kalo gue kerja.

Jiiirrr, ga ada banget nih yang bisa di planning?

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Kembali ke cerita gue di awal tadi, tentang si rasa sejuk.

Karena segala macem pikiran ini, gue jadi ribet. Suka mumet. Suka bete. Kalo shalat maunya cepet-cepet. Dan suka nyalahin keadaan. Sampe di suatu hari, gue udah nyiapin suatu presentasi, terus dibatalin, padahal gue udah bela-belain ga ke rig seminggu demi itu presentasi.

Gue bete sepanjang weekend. Terus gue nangisin hubungan gue yang putus lagi (karena rasanya pas lagi kayak gitu pengen cerita sama orang yang bisa gue hubungin kapan aja, yaitu supposed to be pacar). Puasa, niatnya sekenanya. Shalat, pokoknya I murmured some words from my mouth. Gue nangis-nangis and I didn’t answer calls from my worried mom.

Tapi di suatu titik, gue ngerasa energized. Ngerasain si rasa sejuk itu. Rasanya kayak…………

I don’t know man, it’s peaceful.

 

Sejak hari itu sampai detik ini, gue lebih banyak ketawa daripada nangis. Gue bilang sama nyokap, “Mulai sekarang aku mau ikhlas aja. Capek udah. Ada yang udah ngatur takdir yang terbaik buat aku. Yang penting aku berusaha sebaik-baiknya sama yang aku punya sekarang, sisanya aku banyakin berdo’a aja”. Nyokap gue lega banget.

Sekarang, setiap gue sedih karena putus, gue challenge balik. Emangnya gue bakal bahagia kalo diterusin hubungan kayak gitu? Emangnya gue bakal bisa berumah tangga adem ayem kalo camernya hesitate begitu? Emangnya cowoknya bakal fight buat gue? Jawabannya, big big no. Jadi mending diikhlasin aja. Belum jodoh. Tetap menyambung silaturahmi. Cari orang lain yang lebih baik.

Ketika balik di rig capek ga punya pacar, gue tetep sedih, tapi abis itu gue ngingetin diri sendiri. Dia yang sebenarnya tidak akan pernah ragu. Belum datang, masih di jalan. Cara ketemunya, ya gue perbaiki diri. Tambal sana-sini. Aktif usaha juga nyari. Jadi calon istri dan ibu yang baik. So great sampe ga ada yang bisa nolak, hahaha! Dan juga, kata temen gue ketika gue ngeluh ga ada tempat ngadu,

“Ngadu ke Allah aja, selalu bakal ada buat kamu” :’)

Ketika gue ngerasa ga puas sama kerjaan, gue nginget masa-masa gue capek kerja di company lama. Sakitnya dicampakkan Belanda. Impian yang gue raih dengan susah payah dan hancur begitu aja. Di titik dimana udah ga bisa ngapa-ngapain selain pasrah, se helpless itu. Sekarang gue udah kerja di oil&gas, bisa bantu orang tua, banyak ilmu yang gue dapet, banyak temen yang baik. Walaupun gue ga bisa jawab abis ini mau kemana, tapi ada baiknya ikhlas aja terima apa yang ada, sambil mengusahakan yang terbaik dengan apa yang gue punya.

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Alhamdulillah.

 

Gue gatau ini perasaan bakal bertahan sampe kapan. Tapi saat ini gue cuma bisa bersyukur. Alhamdulillah. I’m so damn lucky compared to banyak orang di luar sana. Kalo gue cuma liat ke atas terus, ga akan pernah selesai masalah gue seumur hidup. Gue harus belajar ikhlas. Belajar mensyukuri nikmat. Dan belajar untuk menjadi manusia yang lebih baik. 

 

Have a great day, everyone! Selamat menjalankan ibadah puasa. 🙂

 

 

Love,

M

“Find Your Nest Before You Fly”, Disencouragement, and Other Dilemmas

In my 2nd year of elementary school, I punched a boy in front of his mother because he mocked me. When I was criticized of my behavior as “not appropriate for girls”, my 8-year old’s words were clear and sharp:

“Emang kenapa kalau aku cewek?”
(“So what if I’m a girl?”)

To think about it, gender issues have always been something I constantly yearn to learn more and be aware of. As a little kid, I grew up alongside my twin brother. We competed hard ever since the square one. I’ve never felt that I should fall short behind him. I could be as good in school as any other boy could be. But as early as in my adolescence, I started to bombard mom with (the inevitable) question of balancing work and family. Recalling the 17 y.o. me, studying for college entrance test:

Mom, suppose I can get into that top engineering school and be a CEO… (At that time, a woman just became National Oil Company’s CEO for the 1st time in history). How can I be a good mother while working around the clock?”

My family didn’t know the concept of female corporate mothers. All mothers resigned when they entered the having-kids stage, including mine, who was once top-performer in a shoes factory. When asked why she gave it up,

I couldn’t stand having to silently took a bath in the morning so you and your twin would not wake up, scream, and beg me not to go. I wanted to see you two grow up in my own hands. Every day I came from work, exhausted, and asked myself why do I have to do this? While you were sleeping, I looked at your little faces and decided it was not worth it. So I quitted

 

I was petrified by her predictable choice.

 

I had always known where I wanted to go. My destination was always clear. Top schools. Best scores. Highest achievement. It’s been hard-wired in my mind to be the competitive, type-A personality that I’ve become getting used to. As a kid, teenager, and college student, it didn’t matter. It was good. Until one day, my grandmother came up to me months before graduation,

Don’t you think of searching for potential husbands? You’re surely a great young woman, but men are scared of you and your achievements. Don’t you think it’s time to slow down and get your friends match you up with someone? Find your nest before you fly, so you can always have a place to go back later on

At that time, I was the university’s Valedictorian, had two unsuccessful romantic relationships, and a dozen “barely there” love stories with various men, one of whom said to a friend,

She’s pretty and interesting. But it seems she’s just too smart for me?”

I gave up on finding any men worth dating. The lowest hope was Summer 2013, just in time when I met my last boyfriend. He was very supportive of whatever things I wanted to choose for my future, before the relationship crumbled because of some superstitious predictions by his conservative family.

Will cause a disintegration. Will not be good for him. Their future may not be good enough.”

With God’s grace, translates clearly into

“She’s too smart, successful, beautiful, dominant, and have such strong power to overshine our man. Forget her. Find another woman who is modest enough to be your bride. This woman is going to cook for you, have babies with you, and would not burden your life”

(Because, hey, no other reasons speak louder than that)

 

Which moves me into these questions:

  1. Why, are we women encouraged to reach high during our school years, if the end product will not be appreciated for any of her “superiority”? Why are “successful” women being socially punished?
  2. How do we, as high-achieving young women, find a spouse who would be supportive of our plans for the future, who would not be overwhelmed by our personal success, whose ego wouldn’t be “hurt”, and who would treat us as equal partners?

 

The “Having It All”

The mixture of being socially punished and too-late realization of self-worth creates this halo that errodes women’s confidence. The external pressure fractures our strongly-built bricks of pride in our own achievements. It’s sad to be the one who is trapped between the constantly escalating, incoherent expectations. Men never have to regret being who they are.

I’m now working as a Site Manager in a multinational oil and gas company. Now how’s that sound? For me, let’s be realistic:

  • It heavily minimizes the possibility of being paired with a man who earns less than me, and not working in Oil&Gas/any comparable industry as well. Even if we’re compatible, the families would squeak. The woman’s would encourage to find another man who “can balance you out” and “We believe there’s better men out there”. The man, unless he also comes from a wealthy or super tolerable family, would not completely be delighted.
  • Unless for some lucky exceptions to the rule (which actually happens, once in a while), the man would not want to see her woman getting herself dirty in a drilling mud with old guys as her rig crew. Trust me.

Eventually, the pressure goes on into the woman’s internal considerations. I’ve heard myself asking, and doubting:

  1. Why this heavily male-dominated industry? Why not a bright career in a big city, with malls just steps away and I can wear beautiful dresses and put on fancy make ups? “Because that’s what’s a woman’s supposed to do?”
  2. Do I really want to be the corporate leader, ah, do I have to be? Isn’t it enough just to be a regular worker, stuck in a non-existing career ladder….?
  3. I want kids, and I’m afraid they are not going to grow up as good as I expect them to be. When is the time to slow down? I know I’m ready to compromise if that’s what it takes, slow down my career for my gorgeous little precious, but when?
  4. When is the right time to get married? If I get married, can I continue working? Do I really want working, at all, after marriage? Being a housewife doesn’t seem to be a bad idea, either. I know a lot of women who are happy with that, and I’m happy for them too.
  5. Now, where do I find a man to get married with? I’m afraid of being single for the rest of my life. I’ve seen too many older women who haven’t been married, who are successful, who are lovely to be with. And I’m too afraid of how this society will perceive me if I am unmarried.

 

You may think I’m desperate by writing this.

I am, and I’m not afraid to admit that.

Because it’s too hard to be a woman in this 21st century, where you are expected to be too damn perfect in every aspect of your life. Those who have found her nest before she flies are so lucky, you should be grateful to have someone who wants to be your real partner. Those who can craft out their career plans clearly without having any doubt, ought to be thankful for their courage, because that’s what I’m lacking of right now. Those who cannot stop dreaming and reaching high because they are not afraid, are great, and I wish I could have that positivity.

But I’m inclined on the side that says this is not just me making up stories. These are real women’s issues that may have crossed their minds once in a while. I try hard to avoid saying this, but then again, we are just women. We want to be cared, loved, appreciated, and be heard for our own aspirations. We want to be free and be content with who we are.

Why, why is that too much to ask………..

A Realistic Take on Fairy Tales

As a young girl, I grew up with the notion that fairy tales existed. That someday a ‘prince charming’ would somehow come into my life and carry me away by his utmost perfection. A standard description of a prince charming was someone who had to be handsome, smart, wealthy, healthy/athletic, romantic, understanding, patient, kind, and……. Well, basically he possessed all positive adjectives.

This bubble of imagination was always further amplified by what seemed to be a never ending fairy tale feeders: movies that almost always had ‘happy’ endings, couples who were so good at faking themselves and made spectators thought that there were never any conflicts between them, magnificent weddings with meticulous ceremonies, and streams of ‘romantic’ pictures/musics/online posts/advertisements, etc.

We all grow up believing that fairy tales exist, that a person who will be a perfect companion with perfect qualities lives somewhere in this gigantic world full of secrecy and lies.

 

Don’t we?

 

I do.

 

I was a firm believer on fairy tales. I saw love as a purest thing a person can live with. I believed that love was never supposed to be a betrayer. That love, once found, would always stay: tested and true.

As I moved to being in my teens, however, I discovered that I was, indeed, not a princess waiting for her prince charming riding a white horse. As much as I wanted to stay firm on my fairy tale belief, there it was, the previously undiscovered territory: Rejection. Unrequited love. Tragic stories. The ‘long gone and moved on’. I did not comprehend, back then, that love could hurt someone so bad that he/she would never fully recover.

Moving on was never in my dictionary. The day when I woke up finding my first love was not in love with me was a hard slap. The first break up felt like a sharp razor blade. The first experience being cheated on was like a melted ice cream cake on someone’s birthday surprise. It was meant to be, it was meant to be, but the fact that separations are inseparable risk from being in love is a dormant beast waiting to be woken up.

It shook my belief on fairy tales. Forever.

As a young adult, I saw more inconsistencies. Like so many people who decide not to get married because living with themselves is just enough, and they are happy and content with that (and I’m happy for them, too!). Like how come people who have been in love for 8, 9, 10+ years could just break it off like no year has passed by. Or people who have just met for 1 month can somehow add longevity to their own tales and swear to God that they will forever live side by side. Or random stories of how people can just meet and tied up – dialed wrong phone numbers, saw a cute girl in a café, met in their first day of new job, watched same gigs together, greeted by old acquaintances, met in job fairs, match-made by friends or parents. Unbelievable.

And yet, people have got married for a lot less. High rates of divorce cases are solid proof that love does not always stay forever and ever. Somewhere along the line, it may transform into roses filled with thorns. There are also arranged marriages where two people who don’t love each other get married for the sake of various reasons – parents’ consent, cultural requirements, economic needs, or just plain bad luck. Surprisingly, some of these marriages survive, loveless perhaps, where their hearts are somewhere else, but survive nevertheless.

 

I’m now standing in the line of young adults going through someone’s wedding ceremonies. Watching their eyes glistening with hopes and dreams while holding their prince/princess charming’s hands, clasped together decorated with bouquets of flowers and streams of well-wishers. I am happy for them, of course. IMHO, one of the highest achievements someone can make is to succeed in finding someone who makes them brave enough to swear to God that they will protect, love and care for each other forever. Forever is a long time, but somehow they think it’s not long enough.

As a young adult, my views have shifted much. What I deem as ‘fairy tales’ are now different from what I previously assumed. I understand now that fairy tale is just that. That love is a raw emotion, adjective, noun, feeling, material that will always have its ups and downs. Prince charming exists, somewhere in this world, but with his own flaws and inconsistencies. He/she may or may not be good enough, or cause everlasting peace, but when the time comes to see deeper, they are indeed the perfect companion. All I need, and all you need too, is someone who makes us at ease. Whether or not they are charming is just another unimportant story.

After all, love is not always supposed to end up being buried side by side with funny sayings on the tombstones. Because there can never be someone who is perfect enough to be and to love another person – they are just there with different needs and have found contentment in each other.

I came to the conclusion that we make our own fairy tales. And when it comes to love….

Ah, je ne sais quoi.

Senyap

Beri aku waktu untuk menjalani transformasi ini.

Karena hanya untuk sekali, aku ingin merasakan kebebasan yang sesungguhnya. Izinkan aku untuk berpikir, untuk mencerna, dan mengetahui apa yang ku inginkan. Tidak pernah ada waktu yang cukup untuk berkontemplasi dan memaknai tujuan yang kabur. Tidak ada kesempatan untuk melihat lebih jauh ke dalam. Selalu ada paksaan untuk mengekstrapolasi, tapi jika permintaan masih bisa diterima, berikanlah satu hal yang paling kuinginkan saat ini.

Mungkin aku hanya ingin lari dari semua ekspektasi yang harus selalu aku penuhi. Mungkin aku hanya ingin menemukan kebahagiaanku sendiri.

Karena itu, enyahlah, tolonglah.

Aku tidak minta dikasihani, aku tidak minta dipuji, aku juga tidak minta disakiti.

Aku hanya butuh waktu untuk diriku sendiri. Mungkin sekarang, mungkin nanti, mungkin kapan-kapan. Matikan lampu. Matikan musik. Matikan suara apa pun karena aku tidak ingin mendengarkan. Lapurkan pandangan secanggih mukjizat karena aku tidak butuh pertimbangan. Sesungguhnya aku tidak butuh kata-kata atau pemikiran yang lantang disuarakan…

karena yang ku butuhkan hanya senyap.

What Suffering Teaches Me

If I have to describe myself in just one simple, meaningful sentence, I’ll say, “I’m a person that has been broken”.

Because that’s just who I am. 

People always expect you to do more than what you think you’ve had enough. In this first steps to the real world, that becomes more obvious. Something’s always missing. There’s always a crack that you try so hard to cover up, but that will always be found out. You want to be seen as flawlessly unbroken, but in this already messed up world, who doesn’t have issues?

I was once a totally innocent kid, like anybody did. I started playing in the neighborhood, started going to schools and socialized with a lot of people, and I began to see things differently. In my eyes, I saw destruction. I saw imperfections. I saw the faded beauty of the world I once saw as totally unblemished.

I was, in one way or another, broken.

The cracks began to add up as I was broken to the inner part of myself. The only part I knew would be too fragile to be released to this merciless reality. So I let it go, and it was broken, bashed, bruised, injured, damaged, in any way I would never have forgiven myself with.

But what I didn’t realize was that I truly needed myself to be broken.

Life, they say, is like a battlefield. Of course there would be bruises. Of course there would be pain that you cannot just simply tarnish. But experience counts. The more you understand your battlefields, the more you are able to devise excellent strategy.

The experience of suffering is really what makes my iron-fenced heart works.

I cursed my teenage years for being manipulated by hollow dreams I trapped myself in. For waiting for someone for years, without having the guts to do anything except lamenting over the sad facts that the head would never turn to the direction I was facing. I moved on to another journeys, was broken by menacingly cruel people who just would not understand what I was giving them. Even until my early adulthood years, when it comes to love, I still feel like a lost soul whose search for her half go in a cycle of treachery.

But the sufferings I went through, the people I was romantically involved with, the miscalculations that made me question my ability as an engineer, the forlorn tales which endings were determined to be tragic from the very first beginnings………….. all of them teaches me to stand up and know myself better.

Looking back at my years of loving and being loved, I realized that they had made me much stronger. Strong enough to understand that things don’t always go the way I want them to go. Strong enough to put rationality ahead of any illogical fallacy. And if loving someone completely requires you to love yourself completely too, I can proudly say out loud that I am now ready. I’ve known my self worth and how much portion of my heart I will allow someone other than me to have. I’ll still open myself up for any possibilities, but the hopes will not be as high, the fantasies will not be as wild, the expectations will not be as heavenly as before. The days of cotton candies have been over, and now I focus on optimization, life-long goals, diminished lust and having control over various variables. I know the dreamer in me will always go vividly romantic, but the slaps out to the reality makes disturbance even more possible to be minimized.

The experience of suffering is what really makes me who I am now.

I’ve always wanted to be a high achiever. It was a default chip that was implanted long before I was born. But if anyone sees me now and comment on how lucky I am, I can humbly say that they have the wrong idea. Things I’ve gone through, all the trophies and certificates and titles of ‘champion’ are the things I earn. Things I earned with literally bloodsweat and tears. And if anybody asks, how can I do that? How can I do that? How else can I do that?

Because I know how it feels to suffer from failures. Because I know how it feels to be broken, to be torn up from the inside, to be told that you were not capable enough, to be accused for being weak, to be compared with someone you love to the bone; to be told that your best — the best version of yourself that you created so delicately hard — was not good enough.

When you’ve suffered through your lowest points, you can always keep your head on the ground when your heart goes to the cloud.

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I make this writing in one of my life’s lowest points. Where I barely know where I should go. Where my biggest fear comes true – to be unable to know what I want. Where I can’t see the big picture. Where my days of being a strategic planner seems to have no concern.

But I make this writing in the hope that I will remember the struggles I’ve gone through. The worst sufferings of my life that I have survived. This writing is intended to tame my ego down and to understand that I am still, and will always be, on my way to an eternal fixation of myself. Because happiness, by any means, is something that always needs to be chased. As Elizabeth Gilbert in Eat, Pray, Love states, I have to participate relentlessly in the manifestation of my own blessings.

This is my battlefield. Knowing the worst should make me able to cope with changes of plans. This is the thrill of living, where unprecedented results may occur. And I should always be prepared.

Everything in this world are made for a purpose and should just makes sense. And only when you’ve been in the dark can you truly appreciate how grateful you should be to be able to see the light.

Silhouette

The moment when you finally know that it’s not a myth. That this life is not yours to control.

Separation has never been easy. In engineering realm, it’s even one of the most important course in Chemical Engineering. We’re no stranger to heartache and pain, but letting go of something that you’ve so got used to is surely a daunting task.

It’s been two weeks. I haven’t been sad for a while. Every time I went out, there they were. Just like the good old days when we spent our nights with shitty calculations and tiny cheat sheets. I knew I had always known where I could barely go with my puffy eyes or nonsense stories. There were always the ears that would stay listening to whatever I blurted out.

Ever since last year I’ve been hypnotizing myself that this is all just a myth. A nightmare that I refused to be drown in. Look, they are always here. Their presence can never evolve into past tense. I just simply couldn’t put down this fear of grief I knew would soon follow the hollow. But no matter how hard I try to deny, the time eventually comes. The last visits. When they packed things up and said goodbye. When I hugged them for the last time. When I came to their dorms feeling like the walls resonated in the same sadness, echoing every story and memory that were once made in its territory. When I saw teary eyes that were tried to be hidden. When I felt the same feeling of heavy hearts, the hearts that have been attached to the same soil of this beautiful city, where youth was once celebrated. Where everybody was free to be what they wished to be. Where judgments were based on meritocracy. Where dreaming has always been allowed, no matter how wild and uncontrolled.

There’s just a binding sense of belonging that you can never let go. Like a silhouette that possesses.

I’m a silhouette asking every now and then
“Is it over yet? Will I ever smile again?”
I’m a silhouette chasing rainbows on my own
But the more I try to move on, the more I feel alone

Owl City – Silhouette