December and Things I Get Used to

A little life update: 

I tried to exercise regularly in recent weeks, but the longest attempt was 5 days cuz I realized then that my supposedly-healed sprained ankle probably won't ever function like it used to anymore. Tried to do other exercises, but the next longest attempt was 2 days. It's not that I'm being hard to myself either: my goal was to exercise 3 minutes a day (yes three freaking minutes, because when I tried exercising for 6 minutes I was tired and it felt so long I settle with 3) and I couldn't even commit to that 3 minutes for more than two days, which shows how I put my will power into exercising.

I'm entering the new year with a long list of toys I want to buy and other handsome purchase of books and plenty games that suddenly come into my life (I've had my head start buying this stuffs)

Other notes:

A lot of things changed. A lot of things around me have changed. Some of them are pretty obvious and strikes you as you see it: like a decent restaurant you frequently went to in the past that has closed for good, or the price of comic books that has changed drastically compared to when you first buy it (yeah. It always shocks me every time), or renovations in your high school school.

Some are not really obvious, like the population of cats that has changed around your neighborhood, or the books unread that already piled up the time you notice.

But more than that, I'm taken aback on how I get used to see things.

Like how I see cars moving without being weirded by it. A piece of colorful big metal moving here and there, without seeing that it's driven by a person inside it. It might as well moved by itself and I didn't think I would find it weird, seeing it moving around places so often. Or how I get used to typing things rather than writing it on a paper. I used to waste tons of paper for notes, mostly for the doodles in between. I'm glad I'm more environmental friendly now, but I can't really point where I really get used to note things down on my laptop or handphone.

I get used to a lot of things now. I get used to not running around the house when I got excited anymore. I get used to having my cat died. I get used to buy things on my own. I get used to the fact that a lot of things changed. I guess that's natural, to get used to things. If one constantly... happy or sad or amazed or surprised to the same thing over and over, I think they'd be crazy. Or dead.

One's ability to adapt is really amazing. I wonder if adapt well.

Weird

I come to question my humanity when my parents started to ask me to be normal.

Seriously? I've never really considered myself as weird until my parents told me that. Even when my friends says I'm weird... I was a little taken a back, because... 'Really? I'm weird?' because I honestly, guilelessly, didn't think I was. But since my parents said that, I then accepted the fact that maybe I am pretty weird.

But even then I don't really know why I'm weird. And it's unsettling because I accept the label but don't really comprehend why. It's just arguing that I'm not weird is confusing for me to handle, and when everyone seemed to think so but you, you would start to ask if they're right and that maybe you just don't realize it because you're you (Or because you're weird? Maybe).

So once in a while, I would wonder about what does it mean to be normal anyway?

What does it even mean to be human?

Because lately, instead of being 'weird', it's more like I'm less and less of a human. Or probably my definition of 'human'. Maybe because I don't like them that I tried to be less them. Or less them in my eye. But it's not like I value myself highly anyway. I don't know. Being not being is very confusing for me. Maybe it's just all in my head. In my mind.

And human mind is a very scary place.

I wonder if I'm less of a human would it be less scary.

This Year's Life Update

So I've graduated from college. Whew. Feels very fast.

I still wonder why I'm still alive, not unlike before I went to college, but I certainly have different stance on that (although I still agree that I'm still living a nice life. The rest... hm). 

I don't really do anything to fill my unemployment, I guess. I want to go to school again, but we'll see what world has in store for me. But basically I don't have much thing to do, so I decided to start a comic. It's called... I haven't come up with a good title yet, but it's basically about two high school girls and their pretty random adventures (or conversations. Mostly conversations). It also consists of mostly two panels and never more than three... because apparently I'm that bad at coming up with an actual story to make more panels. I'm having a hard time making a fixed schedule for them though. And I'm learning sign language now. I like learning sign language. Sign language is fun! I like it. I'm waiting for that time when I become so good that sleep talk with sign language.

She didn't.

I pick up inline skating again too. It really has been a while: I dropped it when I started high school, and I was pretty good and fearless back then--something that I really think I need if I want to advance. I'm thinking of mastering some tricks... but after I have a proper training place where I won't end up that badly hurt or died painfully.

Oh yeah. I made a FYP about my favorite show, maybe I'll have it covered in another post. But I wasn't really expecting a really good reception from my lecturers--it was mainly a work of love (I admit I was trying to be as rigorous as I can on the theory and findings) and it's not that I expect to actually be praised for it. I was trying to just "passed" with that. It turned out better, I suppose. I'd have to give the credit to my lecturer being too kind. And, the crazy ass thing is that I managed to have the abridge version of my paper to be AUTOGRAPHED by the fandom theory guru whose concept was the core concept of my argument (before it was revised... BUT STILL). His works are one of the most influential reference for my writings and I actually got him to sign it for me. I don't even dare to dream that it could actually happen but it just did whatever the odds he was here in Indonesia after I finished this freaking paper and willingly signed it... it's still pretty unbelievable to me.

It was incredible and I also managed to have a group-selfie with him.

Hmm... so yeah, that's basically the gist of it. 

I think I have to be more ambitious for what I want to do in the near future, but I don't think ambitiousness is running in my blood. Oh well. 

"You are worth so much more than your productivity."

- Anti-capitalist Love Notes

p.s. We're still in capitalistic society, so.

p.p.s for more of my comics, go here. I purposely made an account in that certain platform for it because I think it fits the medium (and I want to keep up with the trend................ who am I kidding)

Happy Pessimist

I like myself a lot.

This, doesn't change. For all my life I know I like myself a lot. I love pampering myself, make myself happy, make myself content. There are some things in me that changed though. Like... the way I see things and the way I think about things. Because I know more stuffs now. I learn more stuffs. I see more stuffs. And with that, I changed. I don't think it changes the important stuffs though. It never changes who I really am, I think. If anything, now that I know better, I understand myself better too, and recognize myself better too. There are things that instead of changing, I think it's more like I'm revealing myself. I discover myself. At least what have came to light until now, that is. But nevertheless, yeah.

Anyway.

I thought I was an optimist. I thought I am. Maybe I was. But now that I think about it, that was because I've always associated happiness with optimism, where I was a happy pessimist all along. I thought I was happy because I always see the best of things.

But I didn't.

It was never because I always see the good things; it was because I've never failed to see the worse and embraced it. It came very naturally for me to see failure until I become comfortable with the idea, how I think being dead comforts me when I live a relatively good life, how horrible societies are when people around me are nothing but lovely and wonderful. Counting my lucky stars up there, preparing myself when everything around me crumbles. But it never really stop me from being happy, you know?

If there's any subject that I mention hundreds of times in my blog, it's gotta be about happiness (and goodness, which I've to give more thought because now I think I understand why I'm so confused about the notion). Why? Most likely because that's one subject that I feel close to. Can relate to. Like I have sufficient 'knowledge' of.

And I like it.
I like being happy.

I guess it makes sense, maybe it's exactly because I've always see things in a very pessimistic point of view that everything I get become something that I can be grateful for, things that I can be happy about.    Silver linings become obvious to me, because my clouds are so freaking dark. But I think it's more of the fact that I like being happy, and I want to be happy, so despite everything I make everything become things I can be happy about.

But then again, I have every reason in the world to be happy. I'm loved by my parents and sister, born as a majority, financially stable, have proper education and funny and nice friends, also born in the era where live is easier than it was 10 years before then, etc etc. So of course I am. I should. Right?

I really don't know what is wrong with me.

When I die (old draft)

"When I died, will I be missed?"

It crossed my mind some time ago. Don't get me wrong, I think about death a lot. You don't need a sucky life to think about death. You don't need to be depressed or stressed or feel unloved or bullied to think about death. Simply because everyone dies--whatever they do or think or feel. So in my defense, I think it's perfectly normal for a mortal being that I am, to think about death in daily basis.

Yeah, back to that. Will I be missed? I thought that I want people to miss me.. to feel like my presence is important. To feel like it's a shame for them not having me around anymore. I thought.

But now that I think about it, I think the fact that I might be missed is a burden. It makes me... I don't know. It burdens me.

I don't really mind dying. Well... even if I do it'll happen anyway so why bother, right? But other than that, I just don't think of me dying is a big deal. Leaving whatever is behind me or what awaits... I don't really mind--I don't really care. Not because I'm sure of whatever I'll face after death, also not because I don't like what I have in life and not because I don't have a dream.

I just don't mind.

Mortals die.

So it doesn't really matter really.




But when I thought that I'll be missed, that people I love would be sad...
It makes it hard for me to not mind anymore.

I don't want people I love to be sad. I know what it feels like to be left behind and it's really sad.
I don't want people I love to be sad like I have--even more if it's because of me.
But more than anything, it burdens me--not being able to not mind anymore.

In the end, I'll die. Just like any other mortal creatures.
At that time, I'd probably don't really mind. So please don't make me feel otherwise.




Then again, I can't blame anyone if they miss me sometimes. So it's okay, miss me. But don't miss me too much because when you miss someone too much you're bound to be sad. I just don't want my death makes people I love sad.

(I don't want my death makes people happy either--that sounds really bad.)


p.s. Written originally some time in early 2014

Pest Control

I saw a pest control.. truck? Van? I'm not sure. It's one that says something about getting rid of pests. Yeah. That, I saw that when I was on the way to the airport.

If one think that it's ok to kill and selectively (completely?) annihilated a group of bugs because most of them are considered as the cause instability or chaos or ruining what's around them (according to one particular species who thinks they're smart enough to decide what's bad or good) I think it's very understandable that there'll come a time when a pack of creatures from outer space trying to annihilate human beings from the earth. 

I don't know.

Maybe some rats are just there to enjoy the life, you know? Ponder about great things they can do to make the world better, help other rats to achieve whatever achievement considered by their kind, care about their young ones, coexist with other fellow pest. Maybe they're trapped in a system where they have no choice but to live as what people considered as pest, because that's what are expected from them by their kind--thinking that it's their nature to make people suffer. Maybe there are some of them who actually bad, but the rest are silent majority that live their life without being considered as different than the bad ones. 

But of course not. 

They're rats. 

Rats don't have life. Right? So it's ok to think that we can kill them. Or wanting them to die. 

So does cockroach. Or moths. Or other creatures that are considered as pest. Whatever. They deserve to be get rid of. They aren't nearly as smart or resourceful as some other creatures, what's the point of keeping them around? They're only there to damage what's around them. Losing them wouldn't be a big deal.

(If the aliens are coming, I called it. But I think there's a greater possibility that they actually believe that human being will annihilate themselves without them having to send trucks, so.) 

Not-Yet-Asleep Post #1

Oh dear.

It's just the first half of the year and I already missed 2 months, without updating this blog.

The thing was, I actually have things I want to say. I have things I worry about. Things that are on my mind and probably good things to put into words. But I didn't.

I was lazy. Other times I was tired. The other times I wasn't in the mood anymore. Okay.

So this is like, a few days counting to my thesis defense. I was worried and scared and all that, but being worried, scared, and whatever else don't last really long when you are the kind of person who constantly remind yourself that those sort of things don't matter and you don't matter and nothing actually matters in the end. It bugged me for a day or two (like, haunting me in my sleep), guess it doesn't anymore, but we'll see (I don't really understand how being a "Being" actually works, you know; with you living in a body that you can't even figure out, thoughts that you can't really control, and emotions that are hard to decipher--each trying to make sense each other and failed most of the time).

The other thing is that despite me not very motivated on living, I actually think about possibilities of living, you know. But apparently, possibilities of living that I should think of are possibilities of living in normal (how do you even define that), middle class, achievement-education-worthy (I don't get this one either) scenarios. Should I contemplate living in a space ship? No. Become a butcher? No. Having a giant mutant dog as life companion? No. (Well, at least me wanting to raise non-mutant animals is ok, but still). Apparently, those thoughts are trash. And me saying that out loud: that's trash talk. I'm sorry, everyone whom I talked these things to: I didn't mean for you guys to be a dumpster, really. (I made this blog to be sort-of one, I'll try stick to it)

Also, lately I'm having a bad time trying to sleep. "Trying" to sleep has always been hard for me, as long as I can remember, but it's worst recently. Hoping that it'll be better today, but God usually laughs at things we're hoping for or thought of. We're funny that way, I guess. We just don't know better. I mean, yeah. I'm writing at the moment because I have trouble sleeping, to realize that not only that I missed January, I also missed June.

It's not just this. My dream journal has long since being updated. I actually have pretty vivid and interesting dreams this past months (it gets harder to recall as days past) but yeah. I was lazy. Other times I was tired. The other times I wasn't in the mood anymore. Same old, same old.

Ah.
Another thing.

Having almost ending college, the talks that come up are plans and dreams. Talks about next steps. About the future. I'm really bad at talking about the future. Maybe I'm just not that kind of person.

I just want things to end soon, you know?

Sometimes People Don't Want Pies

Sometimes people just don't want things.

But it seems like it's a really big deal when everyone want that particular thing and you don't, because NONSENSE! Why would anyone not want those things?

Like,
some people don't want pies.


It's not that they don't like pies. They're not against pie or anything. Or hate pies. Or in Anti Pie Movement. They just don't want pies. But in the world where the existence of pies are legitimated by the law, supported by the norm, encourage by religion, wanted by majority of society--it seemed that people can't not want pies.

(Even though there are a lot of other food available to eat. To be wanted.)

In that world, people are allowed to want other food, but they still have to want pies.

I don't understand.
Pies are just... food, right?

Sometimes people don't want them because they have reasons. It can be fundamental nor silly, but it's enough for them to not want pies. Like, maybe pies are against a particular religion or tradition. Or they're full for what might be a long time and have no room for pies. Or they're allergic to pies in general. Or I don't know. I guess people are free to not want pies for no reason. I mean, just because everyone wants them, doesn't mean you want them too, right?

Wrong.

Say I'm that person. I don't want pies. And I said:

I don't want pies. I don't think I need pies. 

But no, they said. You don't understand. Pie has sugar in it. You need sugar to live! Sugar is important for you! That's why you should want pies.

But I'd say, yeah... Sugar is important. But donut has sugar in it too. 

Then they would say, yeah, but THAT'S DIFFERENT. That's not pie. It has different things that pie has!

Obviously. I guess, but I think I'd survive eating donuts instead of pies.

Will they accept that I'd just need donuts and rice and other sweet stuff to survive? Without pies? Nah. They most likely won't. They like pies and enjoy pies and even though donuts have that important thing pies have it's not suffice because donuts aren't pies, you see?

Well, I guess when everyone wants something, and have everything around them saying that it's good for you, and that it's delicious, you would want that. It's possible that you initially don't want them, but as the time goes and you see everyone is eating pies and happy and satisfied with their pies, you'd want them then. But can't people just take it that people might not want it, be it for now, or for forever?

But no. No. No. No. No.

It would be just me, not old enough to understand how I'd need pies and how essential pies are for life.
Me, being weird for thinking that pies can be replaced by some other food that more or less has the same ingredients. And even if I don't want pies, I'd still have to have pies. Because if I don't have pies, my parents will be sad and I'd live a very sad life for not having pies. People would talk how I don't have pies and how I'm bad because I don't have pies.

They won't understand when I said that I don't want pies, because, who doesn't want pies? They say.
People can't possibly live with just waffles and pancakes. They need pies!



So.

That's tough isn't it. Not wanting pies.

Being Happy

You know.

I don't think it's very hard to be happy. I made a list about how to stay happy, but I think it has always been simpler than that.

I come to understand that because it really is you who make yourself happy; you can really come up with anything and be happy with that.

I think you can convince yourself to feel happy, or sad, or angry, or anything really. If you believe in it very hard and very long, it will stain so hard in your heart and mind that it'll come to you naturally.

(But if it isn't--you'll come to a realization and I guess the most common reaction is that you'll think you were very stupid.)

Then again, I don't think it's just about feelings.

When you believe in something really hard and long, what you believe will be your reality. I think it's also how religion works with theist, or how people somewhere in places or situations one would consider very pitiful can have what others perceived as false sense of security. Or false consciousness. Something along those lines.

Anyway.

I was wondering if it's wrong to be happy for those things. It sounds really wrong--why would it be wrong to be happy? What makes happy wrong?

But if being happy is really what you create; what you make up in your mind, regardless what situation you're in or what kind of things that cause it, isn't that mean we can practically be happy with anything?

Is it wrong if we're happy because of lies that we're convinced are true? Feelings that we believe are sincere? Circumstances that we think are ideal? Is it wrong to be happy by doing things considered as sinful by God? Or immoral by society? Is it wrong to enjoy things that makes you ignorant or dumb? Is it bad that...

Seriously. What are the lines?

Who decides one can be happy with what?

What if we're not allowed to be happy with everything?

Because it becomes obvious that some things that are breaking the rules or hurt other people seemed to be something we shouldn't... (can't?) be happy for/about (I'm pretty sure there are a lot of people in jail who actually enjoy the crimes they committed) Finding pleasure in things that causing people misery is a bad thing right?

But since you practically can be happy with anything...

Isn't it easy to find other things to be happy about?

So I guess it doesn't really matter then.




But still. The fact that we can actually be happy with anything, but not exactly allowed to be happy with anything... is kinda sad. I think.

And maybe unfair? I don't know.

Kepo

There are people whom I wish write more in their social media.

Because I want to know more about them. I want to know how they are doing and what's on their mind. What are their concerns. What they think about things.

Sometimes I wonder if anyone wants to know more about me. How I'm doing and whatever-thing else. But it kinda creeps me out. Now I kinda get the sentiment why some people whom I wish write more in social media don't write more, hehe.

But I guess I too, don't share a lot of things. But I do share things. But more than anything, I share them for my convenience and interest. Like this blog, for example. I have long forgotten why I made this blog, but I am keeping it and keep writing on it for my sake. It's a nice thing. It's nice to write, you know? It's nice to write and know that it'll be read by yourself some time in the future, letting her know she's going through, how she changed, and what makes her changed. This blog hasn't been around that long and I see that I have change plenty. Sort of.

Other than that, writing always ease thoughts and feelings I think. Wording what's inside is a very good way to see or assess them more clearly. It's not once or twice that I found answers for my own questions just by putting them into paragraphs (which I previously intended to only be a paragraphs of questions). Then again, you can write anywhere-it doesn't necessarily have to be social media or whatever else accessible to people hm. Oh well.

Anyway, yeah. Even though I get why these people-whom-I-wish-write-more-in-their-social-media don't write more often than they already did, I kinda still wish they do.

Fear

I went and spent a whole weekend with horses a few weeks ago. I had a really great time.

I did a lot of things with horses. One of them had me falling from one. He almost stepped on me (because there was a print of his hoof on my stomach) but he was kind and alert enough to not let it happen. It didn't hurt (except where my chin bump into his hoof), I suppose the amount of falling and bumping into hard things in my life has made me immuned to that sort of thing. But I guess it's also because I thought of falling and I wasn't really afraid of the idea. So when it really happens, I wasn't really... shaken or anything (not that I expect that to happen).

If I were scared to fall from the horse, to get wet from the rain, to be dirty from all the mud--I wouldn't be able to learn nor do things with these horses. If I were scared of risk of me doing things, I wouldn't be able to do anything.

But I guess that's what has been holding people back from doing things. Fear. Mostly fear of getting hurt.

I suppose it's fair: most people don't like to feel pain. So when people don't want to pet puppies because they're afraid of being bitten, or play rugby because they're afraid of being squashed, or fall in love because they're afraid of heartbreaks, or doing bad deeds because they're afraid of getting thrown into a pit of everlasting fire... it makes sense, because people don't like pain.

I don't think fear is bad though. They're great. Fear is what keeping people alive. It makes sure we don't get into things that can be the death of us. So I don't think people should stop being afraid. I think people should stop letting fears prevent them from doing things all the time.

It's cool for people to be afraid of getting hurt, but I think people should risk it if it has certain advantages that worth getting hurt for. Like, I'd risk myself of getting clawed in the face, because I want to bond with my cat and getting clawed in the face is worth my cat knowing that I never meant him any harm. But I totally won't risk me got bitten by a venomous snake since I don't particularly get anything from it. It's also cool for people to be afraid of not doing things the right way, but I also think they should do it if they can be a better person by doing so. I guess it comes to rational assessment--knowing which fear to listen to, and which one to put aside. But fear and rationality aren't really a match from heaven, so a lot of people find it hard to think straight when it comes to things they're afraid of. That doesn't mean they can't try, though. Knowing why you're afraid of one and not another, knowing why you choose to indulge in one or face the other--it's a power on it's own.

What I'm trying to say is that it's ok to be afraid, and it's ok not doing things because you're afraid, but to be mindful that there are things that you're missing from not doing things because of fear. And to be mindful that facing your fears doesn't always make you the wisest person in the room.

Bravery is not mutually exclusive with stupidity.