Growing Void

 

I remember feeling this way back then. I remember thinking, what a stale bread, what a life to shread. And before I realize it fully, I become numb.

The process of detachment is hard for your soul, while you try to compensate it with looking decent in your latest internet selfie. You thought, not again. But here you are, being tested once again to the limit of infinity. Who knows, right? Not you, or the person next to you. It's all a big secret of the sky, a mystery to drawn you closer to your best potential. They promise you will like the person you'll become, depite the constant sadness you feel holding back the lump in your throat. As if letting it slide will drop you to the category: shame of the town.

I am numb.

Now I can say I do not feel or think as much as I was before. I simply wake up and fall asleep based on the assigned time table. I do my part, and the rest of the day is used to staring blankly to the wall. The wave is settle, the wind die down, and my shore is a bed of shreded glass. It is pretty under the sun, gleaming like fallen stars if you use your telescope during the day. I send down the flame in a dugged pit. I let it rest. If this is the death of me, I wonder why the next morning is exactly the same blues. As if, being kept for the sake of finishing my sentences.

One of Those Mornings

 

My mom once told me that the older I got, the clearer it would be to differ the bad from the good. I believed it. I saw growing older, turning into an adult, meant you had everything figured out. You held your values firm, you had your mind resoluted, you had this map of what would you do in life you basically traced it to reach the finish line. And you wanted to be a good person. That's a good foundation, right? You just wanted to be good so everything fell after was in the work of achieving that.

Then I arrived in a phase where that idea was not 100% accurate, causing a spiralling mental, a disruption of believe and later, an erupting anger for the elders who seemed to simplify what it was to grow up. I was prepared for a straight lane: good degree, a career and white fence house. No one groomed me for a thunder storm. I was caught by surprised. Then spending most of my 20s cursing the north star.

I was angry. I felt as if I got deceived real bad.

I wrote about this narrative for almost a decade now. You can always track them to my old posts. I wrote a lot of Is here, but that's simply the sole purpose of this medium. For me to get angry. Because I don't get to do that in real world. Call it cowardice or probably, despite all the catastrophy, being awfuly considerate roots deep in me to the point of swallowing the lump back inside instead of nastily vomit it out. I don't get to get angry here. I tried. But there's always justification for treating me such, and never enough damage to actually see me as a cripple. I didn't want to make the enemy of a noble cause, so I dug a pit to hide a part of myself.

I am angry. Sometimes.

This morning I woke up to a serene silence, which envelope me like a fetus with a fear of getting flushed out to the real world. I had it good, peaceful, slowly groove to do my cores. The day was still, as if waiting for me to be ready to join its stream. I was feeling nothing in particular, actually got carried a way with the currents of my thought, then......the anger hit me. Slowly, waking up from its corner, then.....red flamming and thighten chest. I got sucked, or probably I've surrendered already from the beginning of it arised.

Still, not good enough to say I am crippled.

All Aboard

Just last week I had an intense wave of emotion saying I should not wish for anything good in life. It's rooting deep, since the past was not the most glimmering story you'd hear on a get together with friends or (especially) family. No one is interested in sappy, quiet story of mending a broken spirit. No one is interested on nursing an isolated child, day by day, step by step, it's a lot of task. No one is interested in learning your shade of greys, for it's easier to put them in either white or black.

Why is it so hard to shake all of those hurt and stubbornly only live by yourself? Why do I think of you during the blur of my days? I was desperately asking God to remove affection from my heart. I fear it will kill me in the near future. I fear it leads me to stray: to greedily consume every bit of it. I kept thinking the origin of this all, all came back to loving too much and not being loved enough. The yin and yang. The fuckin' black and white.

This is a rant, a cluttering thoughts. I feel restless to the point of not feeling anything at all. Where will I end up this time around?

All My Love to You

Earlier this month, I lost my grandma. The one that I like. The one that I spent part of my childhood with. The one with beautiful smile and silky hair.

The whole family knew since April, she didn't have much time left. She was very ill, despite not showing any sign of being severely ill. She was even traveling to Denpasar when we found out about the disease. I was in shock, as everybody was. I immediately flown home and stayed for almost a month cause she's having a big operation to fix her heart. It felt weird hearing such news at first. I though her heart was the one thing that didn't need fixing, it's a gold. It's all started to sink in when I saw her sitting weakly at the hospital bed, several tubes held her body like a rag doll. She was that sick. And I couldn't stand that scene.

I squeezed the most out of my time home. I knew I couldn't stay by her side forever. At some point I had to fly back to Bandung. I didn't have much time. And when you're pinched that hard, you gave almost everything-in your disposable-you could to make memories, to make her happier even for a slightest bit, because sometimes in a near future, you could only stare at her picture and miss her in silence. And I have my own limit, but she knows when enough is good enough. She made it so hard to let her go anytime soon, simply because I would like to be in her grace longer. But if she decided it's time, I would, with all my heart, accompany her to the very last breath, or even after, 'till she's done saying good bye to everyone and decended to heaven. I hope she knows that if she's happy, that's rippling back at me.

Grieving is nothing new for me. But loosing her is as new as the breaking of dawn. I probably need sometime until I'm used of not seeing her whenever I come home. But there's her cardigan in her room, with her scent still lingering, there's memories living within me, with her smiling in joy. It's okay. I can manage.

Happy Birth Day

 

The message was sent 2 minutes before midnight. I listened to it around 8 o'clock the next day. I felt a bit hazy upon waking up. There were many things popping in my head all at once that I couldn't think of anything at all. The message was the first that I read that morning. A dear friend sent me a 5 minutes voice note in celebration of me turning a year older.

She started with a yawn, telling me she stayed up as late as she could so she would be the first to wish me a happy birthday. She said nearing midnight, the sleepiness was unbearable she decided to message me earlier in fear of doozing off last minute. She said she's grateful to ever meet me. She said she knew I didn't want a long life, I wanted just enough time living, even better passing before old age so I didn't need to go through pain. She understood why I said what I said. So she prayed to God, that if I passed earlier, she would get a chance to meet me again in the next life. Whether as friends or sisters. She said she would also love to have me as her mom, that she would be happy to be my child.

I broke down crying.

It's the nicest thing I had ever heard someone said about me. My past experience gives me so many fear of having long term relationship, mostly because I know how much you can hurt someone "unintentionally" then hiding behind the "I care about what's best for you" mirror. Having kids is one of the thing I put a lot of thoughts on. But there she was, having the confidence to have me as her mother in her next life. She trusts me that much and that is such a big deal for me. It was an affirmation for my own doubt not being good enough to care for someone. I was so deeply happy. The moment she said those words, I felt like doing something right in my life. It was such a powerful force to rose my spirit up. It was love. It is love.

I cried for the next hour. My emotion was overflowing with joy. That moment is such a precious one, such a big love declaration, such a soul comforter. I want to hold on to that moment for the rest of my "long enough" life.

Thank you. Happy summer. I'm happy I got tho hear this when I'm alive.

The First Day of Summer 2023

 

Oooh how I love this time of the year. I'm done with broken heart, so all I want to think about what kind of dress I want to wear the next 365 days. Yes, I've decided, it's the year of pretty dress and pretty drink only. I won't settle for any less, that's the old days.

All the razzle dazzle, all the facades that I put on, still I go back to this little girl who loves sitting in the corner with blanket up to her chin, dreaming of coming home. I decide it's a feeling. I'm currently on a sailing journey, freshly out of another year long catastrophy, freshly wounded, but my shoulder is stronger than ever carrying the gratification. Where is home, it will take a while I think. I tried to build one by my own, but I realized it's a bit lonely. So the outcome will either be finding one or getting numb feeling lonely, whichever comes first. I'm not writing my destiny guys, I'm just living one hopefully to the fullest.

It's funny cause, I'm still fighting the same battle, just different party on the other side. I never thought of myself as a warrior. If I might choose I prefer the princess who get forced to marry some king from the rich neighbouring country. At least I'm allowed to be dramatic or dying tragically. But here I am, lifting the honour above my head, picking the noble way. I always laugh when I think about it. I should just go ahead and fuck my own life, be capital "DONE" with it. Get punished severely for breaking God's law. Somehow I'm here, sailing the sea.

Now, it is funny cause the most sane I am is when I get mad. The more my mind get twisted, the more I feel steady on the ground. That's the sign right? When you cross the bridge to full scale lunacy. When you are so close to loose your shit but still sober enough to call a cab home. The in between, the limbo: neither alive or die. Whenever I open my eyes, I feel the blood rushing to my brain. I remember day and meetings scheduled in the next few hours. I remember feeding my cat, opening the window, drinking water. I remember thinking, "here we go again". Somehow I'm here, sailing the sea. It will be the 31th summer in few days. That's a long time. That's way too long for my liking.

I stop beating myself for thinking that way. On one side, I have great things: loving and caring friends, a good job, enough money, entertainment. I'm healthy, my body works amazingly. But this longing, God, a human like me will end up being eaten from the inside. Well if that's the case tho, at least I dress nicely for the occassion right? I simply cannot see the future from this ship.

I want to apologize in advance for the ungratefulness, if this is how this is. I try. I try with all my might. Happy first day of summer, love.

It's Me, Hi!

 

My brain has been deceiving me all this time! I cannot believe I'm only admiting this now, but I learn over the year that being honest takes a lot of courage, especially when you have to do it to yourself. I was rereading my old journal entries when a thought crossed my mind: did my habit of imagining the worst case scenario for something I was so scared to do was actually self sabotage, because if the outcome would be slightly better than my imagination, I took it as an achievement?

That is a dangerous idea and probably a reason why I'm scared of doing something for my own growth out of the fantasy of failure. I unconsiously decided not to commit 100% into anything during my 20s because I was so familiar with the pain of not getting the result that I want (or the approval that I need). I simply didn't want to be disappointed anymore, I had my share of that feeling when I was so young. I had enough of nursing broken spirit all by myself, while others said I should have moved on. Well, now I know I built on a different pace than those people.

Meeting Rich is such a big help for me in this phase of life. I get so much more confidence of speaking my mind and acting the way I see appropriate for myself. It's another liberation for me, like a breezy afternoon, like taking off your uniform to slip into a comfy pajamas, like I have a chance to actually liking my own version of self. I'm allowed to do as I see fit. It's a perculiar experience at first due to the routine of doing the musts and shoulds. It's rooted deep in me. Shedding that layer takes almost a year and a river of tears. But I can say now I'm starting to get a hold of it.

I want to be brave for myself. I've always been one, but in the expense of someone else's. I think my thirties will be more about the courage of getting to know and accepting the human that I am and what I want myself to be, tomorrow. It's scary to choose this, but I sincerly think it's been a long time coming.

Never and Ever

I loose my ability to write. It's been quite sometimes, very close to a year. And it's been the loneliest period of time in my life.

I was alone almost the entirety of my 20s. What I mean is, I handled my own affair. Whenever I felt low and had no one I could talk to, I had my writing: words that came to me, gave meanings to feelings and emotions. It is always a comfort to hear those words, like a blanket, like there's no need to fear they would turn their back to me. It's like faith. Nothing's ever been so solid in my world.

Was it a drunken state or quite storm that swallowed me? I suspected both were the masterminds. But to be fair, I had my share of mistakes in making them happened. I made my own choice, I just didn't know that I had to pay the consequences with something that was so dear to me. Loosing those words left me paralyzed. Loosing those words filled me with tears. I had never before, cried that much in my life. It's overflowing like a river.

I can say now, without loosing those words, I would have underestimated the importance of their role in my sanity. Life is a hard battle field for me. Everyday I wake up and immediately gather my will to carry on, otherwise the day is gonna be wasted, in my melancholy. I learn to note the little things that bring me joy, some tokens to give me strenght. I learn to appreciate kindness that comes in my way, knowing it will soften my edges. I learn so much by loosing first.

Writing is my only truth, things that I might never speak in person, but unavoidable to feel neverthless. I don't think I will do something that will affect its presence in my days. This life is a hard battle field and loves to break heart left and right. I honestly do not have so much left in me to spend on its malicious turns and humors.

I'll stay in my lane.

The Wandering

I cried this afternoon. The days had been bleak, the sky dipped in greysicle. I was talking to God in the darken room. I was, feeling tired.

It's started with going through my list of regrets, things I wish to change. Yep, I regret a lot of things. It's fine. Contrary to my previous belief, I can live with regrets, as long as I'm brave enough to admit them. They weight my heart, yes. And for some reasons, they've been a guidance for me walking through this life. My parents, they are a great provider, not so much of care takers. So then these regrets become ones. I  cannot help but thinking I'm a person with holes, lacking of fundamentals. So then these regrets fill me one by one.

I'm now old enough to accept that not everything I wish for is the best things for me. I, also, accept that what I need is not the best of everything. I need enough, being content in who I am in the past, present and future time. Having said that, there lies inside of me, the wonder. The one thing that I'm pretty sure has pushed me so far in this adventure. It's always started off with a curious thought, "I wonder if..." and the next thing is me jumping on an open door, exciting to continue the sentence with my own experience. 

And I think God never grant my wishes. There goes His plan, letting me running around, sprinkles glitter in the idea of The Great Great Tale of Myself. I know now, the ending is up to me, which doesn't necessarily fit to my personal liking.

There is this conflict within myself, this itch that I can still go further, grander, better. This itch that fuels me wandering like a ghost, empty, lifeless, with no particular goal but fulfilling the thirsty curiosity of mine. This afternoon, I felt tired of it all. I said to the ceiling, fuck it all. I cared, but I want to unlearn being that way. I want to step down the ride.

And I think God might grand my wish.

Spirited Away

I've been living on my own for the last 7 months now. 7 freakin months are lots of day, 210 days to be exact, living apart from my family. It should feel like a very long time. Some nights it does. Some others, it feels like blinking in slow motion: you still get flashes of images before you close your eyelid and open it to a changing of season.

The most frequently asked question is, aren't you homesick? In all honesty, no, I'm not. A moment after that, I realize I have my own definition of home, which resides in the existance of people that are dear to me. I don't miss the city, or an address with a zip code. I do miss my brother and sister, my friends, my cats. I miss moments when we hang out, talking about almost everything. I miss sitting in circle during dinner enjoying food my sister cooked. Or after office hour movie with friends once a month. Or Sunday coffee run when we sit through brunch and afternoon tea.

A home is not a place. It's people who are dear to me. Having them around give me such a security and stability, my little own solar system. We rotate side by side, keeping each other on track. Where I am living right now is such a wonderful place. I meet amazing people. But my people root way back in my life, they carve their meaning to my heart. It's easy to find myself feel lonely without them. Sometimes I just want to retreat and go back to the comfort of home. Yet I know what I'm doing now is needed.

Arriving on a New Decade

 Wow. Can I ever not be surprised on what's life throwing my way? Hahaha.

My last entry was last August. I reread in with a big smile. I can see her clearly from this point, that girl who put everything to get her shit together again, whether it's a newly shaped one or one she loved so much. That girl was me. I'm so proud of her :)

I can continue the story from that time. She, as we all know, is a fighter. She relentlessly tried opening new chances, new doors that lead to opportunities she might have looked for. Something for her heart, something for her brain, something to make her comfortable being herself. She realized she's an ocean, and felt happy to be one. As long as the moon was near, even better, reflected on her eyes. Her love had been cases of letting go, more of her own perfect scenarios, less of the object himselves. She's fine to be the admirer of the moon, as she knew, it watched her on the way home so she never really felt alone.

Then the universe granted one of her oldest wish: she's moving out. It happened swiftly fast, she's not sure she's blinking. But she could tell she's on the peak of happiness. She thought, a new year, a new city, a new job, top it with a new decade she's celebrating in summer. She's a sucker for the grand scheme of the cosmic; everything lined up like a constellation, too good to be true to not be a turning point of something big in her upcoming new adventure. After all, she'd been silently praying for so long. A new door led to opportunities she might have looked for. A new door arrived before her. She's so eager to come in.

Dreams are made of everything sweet and good looking sceneries. She knew bringing a lot of newness on her lugagge would shock her-loves-regular-routines-self. She knew, she'd be stepping into a strangeland, which the last time she did such act was 2016. She forgot how it felt. What kept her going was the knowledge that she's grown up a lot since then. She hoped it's enough to survive the early stage of adaptation. It's the first time she's living far away from her family, she had no idea what would happen being on her own. She hoped what she had in her was enough to survive the early stage of freedom.

Dreams are made of everything sweet and good looking sceneries. But she's not dreaming, she's living. She couldn't be happier to wake up to this new city. She struggled, got sick and had to deal with it alone. She felt lonely, so used of having easy access to her support system. Neverthless, she gained courage to cry herself out. She cried a lot. Over things in the past, over the burnt food, over unrequited love. She cried, she looked herself in the eyes while on it, something she never done before. She cried the goddam river she felt as if she's shedding all her burried scars. She cried, then she slept only to wake up feeling lighter and lighter everyday. She was shapeless, didn't recognize her own self. She thought, am I loosing myself again?

Today, she read her last entry on this blog. Her own words reach back to her. She will never loose what originally comes from within, as long as she has faith. And if she ever strays from her path again, it will be an adventure, not a failure. She might be shapeless, with fresh wound, bad teeth and no one to call a lover. But she counts her blessings and that comforts her to try opening new chances again.

She, as we all know, is a fighter and an ocean and grateful for this blog.

State of Grace

How does it feel to be in the calm? I've been wondering lately about it. It's not something new, it's just something I'm not used to, for quite sometimes. There's a deja vu feeling about it, a distant memory of being in a similar situation as I previously ever had been yet I couldn't as much as place where and when. All I can indicate is a fleet of nostalgia, like a second chance to reliving a certain moment I almost forget ever happened once. And when it's over, there's bits of peculiarity that I might have traveled the time, without the consciousness of ever changing time and scenery.

I don't know about the right or wrong in the case of adulting: should I flow down the stream or should I pick up the battle I've left halfway a year ago. Or, am I supposed to to both, finding the so called balance without pushing myself tiptoeing the fine line of ambition and greed. I don't think it will ever be right or wrong, as much as there's 50 shades blue during sunset and couple layers of reasons to do or not to do. But when it calms, they almost loose their urgency to place me on one side. Instead, I'm everywhere, in the presence of a new day and somewhere along my early years as child, or teenage or anything in between. Some night I cry out of estrange loneliness, some morning I wake up with a smile of gratitude. When I look around through the day, I always find a corner where I can belong, more rather than less, sometimes I can even stay longer than I expect.

I don't know if it's calmness, or an absence of distortion, or the best bet will be, growth. If I can take something out of this unknown state, it will be the graceful quality of peace inside my heart.

What ever will be, will be.

Eclipse in Gemini

Hey, it's been 4 months! I haven't writing here much, that is obvious. I don't journal too, either manually or digitally. What I did most of the time was writing short stories and poetries. At first it felt kinda out of the norm not to blog or journal at all, cause that's one way for me tracking my growth, momentos, emotions. I've been wondering the last 4 months why I didn't touch them at all, I couldn't, even after I forced myself to. Even my birthday didn't move myself to do them despite doing it every year as a celebratory self reflection. My hands wouldn't move, my head wouldn't talk, it was a total paralyze.

Now I'm sitting here trying to recall what's been going on through April and May. Those months has gone into blurry images and scarp of conversations. I remember having a packed schedule on April. There's this big project we've been preparing since December last year. Then I met someone interesting during that project, someone I wish had the same amount of interest for me. It was the peak of rainy season in this country, I spent a lot of time got caught in big pour and thought of him. How he casually told me his coffee order when I had turn to run errand. Him and hers, they love their coffee the same. What a shame. For me, at least. I wrote a lot of poetries about it, and a short story too. I guess, heart break, if you can call it that, is indeed a food for writer. It's rare to have a clear sky that month, literaly and figuratively. There's always a chunk of grey cloud hanging low, whispering weighted air and uncertainty. I couldn't do much laundry, but if I could, they smelt damp almost every single time. There's this sticky and heavy atmosphere everywhere I went. Reading Franz Kafka didn't help much.

May was a salvation. I had a long holiday which I spent at home due to the everlasting pandemic state in this country. I tried my best not to get angry about it, since I've been dreaming a road trip to the west, probably driving a lil further to Bandung and surprising an old dear friend. I tried my best not to get mad about people who cheated their way to travel during pandemic on new year holiday and in result, increasing the number of daily new cases while I've been keeping myself and my sanity in the city. I was deeply disappointed, I didn't know how to describe it. The best I could think of was a drought. That's how it felt after full year without traveling. Then the unexpected happened. I said yes to every coffee invitation from friends, people who actually reaching out to me during my sabatical leave from Instagram. And lord, salvation it was. I didn't expect to have conversations that were so enlighting. As if God told me wisdom himself, through the experience of my friends. I was sitting there listening to their stories and all I could think of was grateful, to be there with them and got inspired and motivated and answered. It gave me a new sensation of satisfaction, similar to what traveling makes me feel. The rest of the holiday was spent for spring cleaning, an annual event since I couldn't remember when. I also did a little furniture shopping which was really fun. By the end of the holiday, I'm pretty much feel calm and peaceful. I feel fine, not in the way that I tolerate most part of reality, but more in the way that I understand why things happen and decide to live with them. Plus I have a brand spanking new bookshelf which I'm super in love with.

By June, I found it steadier to stand on my ground. I mean, the last 18 months had been a handful of cascade ocean wave blues. It felt like I lost my mind, my identity, my purpose. But for once, I felt the optimism of begin again. Like, there's still a possibility of good thing happen to me in the future, if I put the effort and the time and my heart. One thing stands out amongst the other during that period. My siblings and I have grown closer emotionally, somehow finding a way to each others' company. It's not a perfect relationship, but it is a supportive one. For once we do see each other as family, not a competitor for affection, not a stranger in a boarding house. We spend a lot of time together while grilling meat and having coke. They are nursing their wound, so am I. Every friction is us trying to shape our edges so we won't hurt each other, intentionally. It becomes quite bearable to stay at home now. It's really nice and relieving.

Lately, there's been a lot of conversation happens in my head. It's out of nowhere, probably the product of a day dreaming or a movie I watch before bed. That's how most of my short stories start, out of scarp of fictional conversation upon two person. I find it enjoyable to try developing the dialogue, revealing the character of the people involve by the way they talk and respond to a question. I love putting layers, sometimes too much, on statements, illustrating the conflict and their train of thought. I love when it simple on the surface but complicated underneath, which in my opinion, are how human is. My biggest inspiration that month was this book called Song of Achilles. The way the story flows, carrying me far out to the ocean of passionate bond and promising youthfulness. And the conversation, I can imagine the distinct tone when each character speaks, adding dimention to the whole construction of storyline. Oh, how I want to be loved the way Achilles do to Patroclus. The book is easily on Pride and Prejudice level for me.

As you can see, I've been indulging myself with what life offers on daily basis. I don't really plan far ahead of time now. For now I just want to be: be present, be here, be now. I still have some blues every couple days and scary thought comes back every now and then. I feel fine, cause I understand it will keep happening throughout my life and I have the confidence to be fine with them in my life, the confidence to call my strenght and courage everytime I need them. I will never loose what originally comes from within, as long as I have faith. And if I ever stray from my path again, it will be an adventure, not a failure.

I guess it's a good thing to take my time off of blogging and journaling. That way, I can get out of my own head and go outside, talking to people, getting nervous doing things for the first time, being sad for someone else. I can forget who I am for a while, shedding the excess of emotions and opinions and judgements I drew on the painting I worked on. It's starting to feel liberating being inside my shell, even though I don't know whether to stay or venture to another form in the future. I'm not gonna think about it now. I just want to be, for now.

Daringly Quite

So I've been gone from Instagram for almost a year. For the last 9 months I forced myself to stay quite, to keep most of the things for myself and my closest family. At first I thought of going for only a month or two, but then I found myself keep pushing it back. Here I am 9 months later, feeling like I finally leave a party I don't want to be part anymore.

The past month has been the most interesting for me. Several friends I know from Instagram chat me on whatsapp. They said they noticed I've been gone for a while. Some were genuinely concern, they thought something unfortunate happened. Some were more casual and curious. Some others were too shy to contact me directly and prefer to asked around. At that point, I find it really amusing. For me, never before people noticed my existance. In my mind, I'm that kind of person you will just pass by the street without turning your head twice. I'm not someone who leaves great impression on the first meet. By the time the night ends, you might have forgotten my name and my face. So it is amusing for me, knowing that I'm probably not the person I thought I was. Or I'm probably no longer that person I thought I was. I changed. I left impression. They remember my name.

Since going under the radar for the last 9 months, I get so comfortable not being seen by people. Not to mention that wearing mask is the new normal, so you will see my face even less. It feels truly liberating for me. Probably it is caused by my mental image of being judged by my appearance, the level of success, the people I'm friends with, they grew less too. I feel like experiencing the early 2000 again, when your life was yours to own, not the gram. You know, all of those thought were the product of my own mind. But I can't deny the various lifestyles I had for the last 10 years shaped most of them: those lifestyle choices were made mostly to fit in with people I wanted to please.

I think I'm not going back anytime soon to Instagram. It grows too crowded for me. But today I have a thought that persistently provoke my nerve. Instagram has been a place for us to meet and connect with others from around the world. If I'm leaving, does that mean I'm going to live my life lonely? Will I miss all of the fun stuffs that we know only happen in there? Will I be old fashion? Can I go back there and keep my state of mind? Will I get tempted to just follow the crowd? If I'm no longer putting myself out there, will they forget me?

I really like how life goes now. It's a small pond which I've been super selective with. I like that I know every single one and I don't have to worry about their judgement, it's out in the open. However, I do wonder how are things beyond my own garden, thou stepping out always makes me feel like being eaten alive in the wild.

My Claim

 I was scrolling through green sage wall pictures when it hit me, "how much is the price of freedom?"

Maybe it's the soothing color, or hundred pictures of beautifully sunlight rooms I'd seen. There's an idea of how the morning rolled up in those rooms, the smell of coffee that tickled your nose, and all the spaces you had, with only your mark all over it.

Your very own marks.

How much money do I have to earn to buy the pretty house? How far the distance I have to run to reach it? How many time do I have to spend thinking about it? How long do I have to hold on to the thread I hang my live with?

When I thought about it again, I guessed I got it all wrong. I didn't really want a pretty house with green sage sunlight room. What I wanted was the feeling it gave me: a freedom to go by my rules, marking every inch of it with my finger prints, making it my own. My very own.

It doesn't matter whether it will be green sage or dusty pink or baby blue. As long as my name is written all over it. My very own.

The Toast of The Town

Here Iam, back at a coffee shop, sitting alone writing. At this rate, I don't think this habit will ever grow old on me. I do wonder if there's ever a point in my life, that I let someone else join me.

That's actually a question I address for 2021. What will it bring to the table? What's the trick under the sleeves? I hope the latest technology will be able to tell me at least the tip of it, but after 2020 happening, I guess human race now realize that plot twist is real. And we should be very thoughtful on what we do next, cause there's no guarantee there will be "next time" for us.

For me, 2020 is a wake up call and a slap in the face, and light sleeps at night dreaming about somebody who will hold me thight when I cry and weep and complain about my incapability, how my head is sometimes a riddle for me, those worries and anxieties I can't quite express through word, but the pain is very real banging in my chest. This year has been my biggest break, when I learn to be really patience about myself, understanding that what I think as set backs might just a resting point before continuing my journey. I'm trying my very best not to be mad at myself that the Jengga I built crumbled earlier this year. I'm trying my hard to get out of the ruin that becomes more and more like a cemetery with only names in my mind, I can't quite recall the face. No one will be able to go on living if she keeps wondering around the death. Even though letting go is more likely a concept for me, maybe with practice I can finally grasp a grip about that.

I humbly think that I won't survive this year without my support system. There's moment when I was so close on pulling the trigger, but I didn't, that mostly because I still had so many reasons for staying and making it works. And everytime I find my way to come back to those reasons, I feel truly saved. So I do want to call a toast for my friends, who's been listening to the crack in my voice when I'm mad, who's been leaving me alone when I need to gather my thought and casually remind me if lunch time is coming. I want to call a toast for my current boss, for giving me hope and courage to start believing again. I want to call toast for my brother and sister, for the late night drive and difficult conversation, for baring almost everything on the table just so we can understand each others languange better, for grilling my chicken tenderly the way I like it, for provoking my rage and deepest fear to later nurse my exploading pulse into a harmony. Without one of them, I'm scared to think where I'll end up. And with every single one of them, I feel like I can also understand myself better.

I'm virtually popping a Chianti and rise my glass for them.

The Last Straw

I had an argument with my parents yesterday. It's the same problem all over again, but with different turn in the end. I give up. My heart gives it up. I don't think I can't stay and still keep my sanity. Or, still keep my own identity. It asks too much out of me. I'm probably too little for the so called family.

Was I sad? Hmm, at first. I cried. Upset. Then I slept till noon. When I woke up I went to the gym, joined Hatha then Combat class. I breathed then I punched. Going home, I felt relieved. Things carried on as usual. I woke up this morning by the sound of rain. I told myself to breath, cause sleeping lately has been disorientating. There's no particular emotion in me, just, doing the usual. But I think I'm fine. I don't relapse to scary state of mind like the one I had in July.

I'm fine.

Clear Mind

 

I should lie down facing the sky more often. It gives an amazing feeling.

The First Day of Summer 2020: Prelude

I've never felt more like an adult right now. Before, I saw my self as a girl who desperately hold on to innocence, while navigating her appearence as a young adult. It's a double life kinda thing hahaha. But this minute, this day, this moment, I feel like I'm officially an adult.

I stop fighting the reality, in a way that denying this life is not the one I choose to live in. I realise I tend to swiftly shift the blame to the society: my family, my friends, my environtment, those failed romances. I always find a rational reason to think that whatever I do, it's chain reaction to their action toward me. I always think I'm on the victim's end, which is true at some point but now it's just not the case anymore. Right now, I myself refuse to be in that position.

Every single year, I pray for the same thing: to be kinder, to be wiser, to feel content about myself. I'm so fixed to make as fast progress as possible, leaving no room for a set back or failure. Leaving no room for my mind to process my growth. I just want to arrive at my destination as soon as possible. So when I crashed and burnt back on December last year, I was grey ashes blown by the wind. I lost my way, my purpose and my energy. I was completely an empty shell.

All the confusion I experience in the past 4 months has brought me here. A total awareness of how I have full control my own story. I feel like right now, it's crystal clear to me that I own the power to break down and pick myself up again, with or without people's approval. I finally understand that validation is overated, respect is not the currency and acceptance is for you to give to yourself, not from others. I make peace with uncertainty and decide to build my day on a yoga mat and smile.

In the last 4 months, I've been learning how to start accepting disappoinment in my life. I want to understand that it happens for a reason or two. I want to be able to feel upset and sad, accepting it as a feeling, not unchangable facts. I want to be comfortable feeling that way and I don't have to beat the shit out of anyone, not even myself. Then, when I'm done grieving, I'll let go. I'll let go to empty some space, so the new journey can come in and reside with me. This cycle will rotate for the rest of my life. And I'm fine with it. Finally.

It's funny how my own good intention trapped me in a tiny box. I forgot that if a door closed, there would be other doors I could try to open. I just needed to step back to see the bigger picture. I still pray the same thing this year: to be kinder, to be wiser, to feel content about myself. But this time, I accept whatever coming my way, the good and the bad. I'll keep the joy and take my time to let go the sadness.

This realisation unlocks a brand new chapter for me. Being adult is not bad so far.

Subtle Happiness

It's been quite inside my mind. Which is rather a surprise for me. I don't particularly feel anything, but I'm aware I've been watching out my stream of thought, as it goes up and down and probably in between. I'm fine. I don't think it's necessary to conclude anything from this stand. I just want to lay facing up the sky, let the flow carry my body as far as I let myself be. I just want to be here, right now, telling myself to stay still and enjoy the day.

My life has been good. I finally find back my rhythm. I'm happy cause I can sleep early and wake up feeling rested. I'm happy cause I'm back practicing yoga. I even challenge myself to do 15 minutes morning walk before work. It works magic on me, since I have sometime to process my thoughts before starting my day.

I also reliase that I talk in more honesty with my friends. I'm opening up, little by little, showing my true character. And to my surprise, their atittude don't change toward me. They probably know who Iam all along hahaha, but it's me who hadn't got it back then. This feels freeing. I feel like finding puzzle that matches my edges. It's nice to have friends.

Work has been so enjoyable. Being in the new team, I have no issues fitting in with the people. Basically because they're just like me haha. I can't stop feeling grateful for this opportunity. Truly. I say it to all of my friends, yet I feel it's not enough.

Actually, it feels weird that I find my self being in a good place. Hahaha. Only lord knows what kind of state I was in for feeling that way cause honestly, I didn't quite understand myself. But now, it's as if I have this faith that whatever comes in the future, I will always try my best to handle it. If I bleed, I'll find ways to heal. If I fall, I'll learn to climb back. If I'm anxious, I'll breath.

Possibilities are endless and I'm not deciding on anything, yet. I just want to take in as much as I can. It's just like those sky I trace every morning during m walk: my mind looks spacious and clear.

Then I breath in.