Update Until Today

Things are different than it was since I last updated my blog. To be honest, I think in the past year I didn't get that much time to just be reflective in general, just on the mode of keep going and distracting myself here and there. But here is some updates just for the record of me being alive in 2023 despite has not looking forward to long life since ever.

Anyway, I am well. I am in good health, and I am happy. Things around me are good too. My loved ones are close by and well. Working has never been my passion but I am in one where I can do it remotely forever so I am eternally grateful for it. Still prefer not having to get up in the morning and think of the work I need to do 5 days a week, but it is good. I am content.

I get my birthday blues like usual, and of course being confused is what I am--with no ambition, dreams, and having a good life already what is there to seek? The thing is that I do know I can do whatever I want to do, and there's little things that hinder me from it. But what is it that I want to do exactly, when I am happy with all that I have and that there is little out there that entices me? It's a quiet, mediocre life with the daily complicated questions of what to eat for dinner, and I think it's a good one.

I finished so many games last year, and I hope to continue to do so this year too. It's just January and I already finished 2 AAA games (well... I started P5R in December but I finished this month so it counts) and I really hope to have more and longer horse trips this year.

I learnt a lot too this past year. Some about myself that I never knew, and I am proud that I went pass the difficult and uncomfortable phase. There's always discomfort in figuring things out, and anxiety in uncertainty, but I have grown to learn to be more and more patient about it, more conscious about my effort and my laziness, more grateful for the support I get from around me.

I hope to always be close and closer to what makes me happiest, and I am glad to know that I do, always.

I am not a saint and I also get upset sometimes

My sincerity only extended from the fact that it has always been about myself. In my head, even the things I do for other people, it was an extension of what I feel and what I value. At the end of the day, I would see things that I did in the past, and how could I regret them?

They're all things that I do for myself. Sometimes I got a lot of help, and sometimes it's nice to have some people to cheer you on.

But I am stubborn and uncaring, and it feels so natural for me to think that way, that people don't owe me and I don't owe anyone, because I thought 'why would you do something that isn't for you?'

-

Sometimes I will get hurt in the heart, and I imagine it like a bruise or a scratch. Not an open wound, or anything that bleeds, but just a minor thing. It stings a bit the time you got it, but then it will pass. It will probably hurt for a few days or so, and it will be a bit raw when you touch them directly, but perhaps you wouldn't think too much of it. 

Sometimes I can see that I was hurt, and I don't even remember when or how I got them--but I wouldn't care much, because it will heal, and it usually heals fast.

I get bruised in the heart so easily lately. 

Does not seem like a good thing at first, but I wonder if I have always been easily bruised, I just never noticed because I don't care enough.

-

There are days when being normal is very trying. I don't think people around me really comprehend how much I suck up to be normal. I mean, they don't need to. But I tried really hard, at being normal thing. Whatever that means.

And it sometimes it crushed me a bit... or a lot, when I get told that I didn't pull it off as well as I thought I was.

Sometimes I want to tell them I don't even wanna (be normal). Sometimes I want to tell them I am really not (normal). Sometimes I want to tell them that this is already as normal as I can get and please just accept it.

-

When I speak I tone down so many things, I feel. I am actually awkward, and I practice so I get to talk in more eloquent manner. For difficult subjects, I will rehearse it in my head, or to the darkness of my room, or write it down, hoping that when I talk it would at least has a good resemblance of what I have poured out then and there.

It usually didn't. But it still work out in the end, so I'll take that.

Sometimes.

Sometimes the subject will never come up, and I will never bring it up.

I will forget it.

And in retrospect, I feel like maybe, those are perhaps things I never need people to know anyway, and that it's enough for me to have an imagined scenario in my head, where I get to say things I want to say, even when I will never get an answer to it.

-

I am patient enough.

I am very indulgent so for some things that is hard for me, I will probably take forever. But I hardly ever rush myself for those kind of things. I can wait.

I am proud of it, you know? Patience is a good virtue. I apparently have more for myself than I have for many other things in general.

It's just I think that people will not have enough for me, and I wonder if I would care.

-

Sometimes I get a mood like this, where I talk about things that mostly upsetting, when I am not upset at the time.

I process awful feelings in a way slower rate than I am with better ones (and the better ones are pretty slow already).

It's a double-edged sword, I guess.

Because perhaps I don't feel truly miserable when it happens, because I have little clue of what's going on. And yet I don't feel truly miserable now that I see it in retrospect, because even though I understand more it's a feeling that no longer around.

I will get better in due time.

The New Year

Last year had been a lot of things and I hope this year would be kinder to me. 

I am happy. For some reason, I feel like whatever it was that I have had accepted cognitively, had just registered in my heart. In other words, I think I finally succeeded in accepting them emotionally as I was cognitively. I am happy to know this development as well, because it seems that I didn't really wait or notice if things I "take" as truth in my head is processed properly for me in the heart.

Among other things, this includes the idea that I am unashamedly selfish and that I am not bothered with the idea of not knowing. I thought these are just facts about me that I have known and embrace all this time, but growing up apparently also meant that the extent of my selfishness and my ignorance are challenged, and at this point I come again to a point that I feel is a new equilibrium. It's nice!

Every time I remember that I am my favorite person, it made a lot of sense why I'm so easy on myself. Maybe my growth stunted in certain way because of it but it's the price I pay for this much convenience and peace, that feels like an alright bargain.

When I was in Salatiga I was really happy. Last week there was a time I thought "I want to be happy again,"

Am I not? I think about it, and it seems wrong to attach so much happiness to a place and a memory. There were so many things that made me happy at the time, but ultimately, it was that I perceive them as a source of joy that it felt like a dream.

For me, a lot of things are a "I'm glad it happened". Some things I want to stay forever in my life--a constant, a routine, a bond--but that I got the opportunity to taste and experience the joy that it have given me, I am happy already. 

I want to continue to be happy and free, at some point I forgot that I could wait for my death enjoying life for the sake of it.

A bit of a note, it feels like I have been experiencing time or days in a very... conscious manner. I feel it passes. It makes days and weeks and months feels a bit like forever all the time, always feels like I experience a lot of things. Not sure if it's a good thing or not, but it's nothing horrible I guess. Don't know if it'll last.

Happy new year!

The Council in My Head

As I now have a divine confirmation of the fact that I am more emotionally inept than I thought I was, I have a few reflections:

1. It is more common than not. I am not special in this case. That's nice to know.
2. I am grateful for what it does for me. It hadn't hinder me from making meaningful connections and I'd even say that it's a quality appreciated from most of my peers.
3. It is now a bit of a chore to learn about them and unlearn about letting them hang around in my heart or head space without acknowledgement whatsoever, because I am just that untrained.

-

I am unsure if they are the same, but whenever I come to a situation that is unsettling (supposedly conjure uncomfortable feelings like anxiety, fear, sadness or the likes) I imagine that there is this council in my head.

They're pretty amazing. They would sit down with me and told me things that I'd like to hear and agree in the end. They all come with compelling arguments and so much compassion for me in many ways without actually making me feel pressured for anything at all.

They're so easy to listen to and I don't remember an instance where I ever had fights with them (nor them with themselves). They're a united front, they can be wrong but we'll be wrong together, and we'd be fine because we all agreed to whatever we were wrong about so there's never any hard feelings for mistakes and such.

It's like a government without opposition and for so long I've been comfortable with them. It's convenient. Imagine a tyranny but since the authority is utterly devoted to your wellbeing, feels like they pamper you instead. Most times, I think they are. It's just I have quite rigid perception of "what's right" and "what's good" that they adhere to that sometimes made me feel like perhaps I am not as pampered, then again I too am happy to be subjected to that ideal so... I don't know if that cancels things out or not.

As much as I am blessed to have them, there are times when they are not very helpful. It's when we are facing something that is out of our depth. Because they are so consistent with each other, when they have nothing, then there will be no voices in my head.

And I cannot work with anything from that silence.

I will have no clue, and perhaps nothing to say too, and I would also be silent until I can gather whatever bits I can come up with at the time. I am also quite good at admitting things that I don't know about, and sometimes I can be quick enough to conjure a good argument too, but well. I am not always sure if they're as sincere or true as when it was coming from my council.

I thought they're perfect already--and in some ways, perhaps they are--but apparently, I have found myself in novel situations where they are not as reliable. It's humbling to be reminded over and over again that the need to evolve and grow will never cease in your lifetime. 

But well. I know already that it's an inevitable consequences from staying for a long time. I just hope I will always have enough of everything I need to not loath life because I'd hate if that were to happen.

/crossing my fingers

I want to explode

I don't know what I want to write or how I want to write it, but I just really want to because I have a very intense feeling that I don't know the name except that it's a good one... Because I don't know what is it that brings me to this point.

A few things came in mind: 

1. I don't know what happened or when it happened that made me have a very late acknowledgement over what I felt in past events (it seems that there are just some things that I don't feel straight away and only come to me in retrospect)

2. I thought I am pretty good at articulating my feelings but I don't think this is the case. I'm wrong. What I am quite good at is coming to a conclusion of what could have been my feelings because sometimes my feelings do not catch up to it quick enough lol.

3. I realised that I am a pretty disciplined person that I am actually pretty disciplined about my emotions as well. This perhaps caused #1

4. I WANNA EXPLODE LOL

A few observations. 

One, a few friends asked me what my plans are, how I am doing, and I replied with what it was (just, you know, what I did, what I planned). They asked pictures, I sent them. They asked if it's nice, I said it did. One of them said "Seems like you're very happy there :)) so glad!"

It took me a while to respond.

Am I happy? I am, but mostly it's... just normal. Normal feelings regarding normal routines. It's nothing that made me elated, but it was nice. It's nice. Normal nice. Am I happy? Yes. But happy in absence of sadness or things to complained about, mostly. That's what I thought.

Two, I was grooming Choki. One of the owners for that establishment asked me, "How is it Rani, you happy?" and I don't reply immediately, I probably said something along the lines of "It's tough and I am tired but it's nice." 

I was asked about how my day went, and I described the time when I groomed them. I cried when I said it. Actual tears in my eyes, from remembering the warmth and tranquility that I felt then.

Just today, I feel so happy. I didn't have a lot of work today (and I deliberately didn't work on things I knew gonna be on my plate lol) and I actually have time to myself. Maybe that's why it finally dawned on me. I remember the things that happened, and I don't know what else the word for what I feel but happiness? I wonder why I didn't feel it when it happened but now I feel I want to explode (except now that I write it I am not on verge of exploding anymore).

It

It feels like there's this eagerness in me that has long buried and just resurfaced and confused on how to make its appearance. 

My perception of time and my feelings towards it is also a bit weird, it feels like I have all the time in the world (and I am, I think this is the default of what I feel over everything) but I am also impatient; I also 

can't wait. 

And instead of the suffocating feeling that is familiar to me when I want to hurry up and catch up and soak in everything that I thought I have to experience--the feelings I remember happened when I got a new job, when I was in SG, early days in LDN, when I was in the class for the first time--a feeling that I immediately know to tame and should not be entertained (because, rani, you have all the time in the world! Take all the time that you need!) This time

This time

I am happy. 

That... impatience, the eagerness, no longer choke me.

I don't remember if I ever felt about it this way. It confuses me. My wants confuse me and my feelings confuse me. I am not sure where all of this come from? If you asked me I don't know too! Of course I can tell you all things good about what I want and what I think is ideal, but is that really why I feel this way?

I don't know too. I just want it. I don't even know if it's love, or obsession, or me being disillusioned or any label that exist in the world. But it's just something that does not go away. For years it does not go away.

And I think it's just so easy for me to let go, you know? It's really easy.

Because I am scared too. I thought I am not, because I just bulldozed through everything in my way--meticulously, single-mindedly, unwaveringly. Even fully aware that I can't have everything I wanted, I never not try for things that I want.

I thought that I am not scared.

But I am wrong. 

Hahahaha.

I soon realised that I have a lot of fears too. There are a lot of things that I don't believe about myself. Something that I know and acknowledge, but nevertheless, often forgotten when I am so focused at the fact that I want things instead. 

(What do you expect for a person like me, who hardly can multitask even for the material, tangible things that aren't feelings)

Love was never enough for what I want. Never. I know this. And I have long been too self-centric for the sacrifices I know I have to make. I am so scared. I want to believe but it's not easy to have that belief and easier to just do it you know? 

That's it. 

That's why I'm here. 

I have so little faith, but I just want to be closer to that vision. It is easier for me to work on it than actually making myself believe that I could, would, deserve, or even had the chance to make it true.

I don't even think I am desperate you know.

But then I have cried, am crying, and will cry.

For it.

(Then again, many things make me cry. Maybe using tears as indication of intensity of my feelings were a bit off mark.)

Anyway, I don't know what's there. 

I thought perhaps, I am living the dream already.

Indeed.

For one that is longing for non-existence, my life had been a lovely one. I just hope, well.

Let's not jinx it.

I am a spoiled kid

There were some things in life that I already know that I don't fit in. 

Most of my life I think it had not been obvious to me, but I thought actually adapt and learn quite naturally to function around people generally but it turns out that I was wrong.

The reason why I can function normally is not really just that I was adapting or learning at the correct pace (I will give credit to myself that I have been growing as a human being in a lot of ways) but because I have been utterly spoiled by my friends and family, to think that I actually function well. 

Lol.

A thing I realised is that getting a certain level of understanding from someone close to me was rewarding (there were so many times I was surprised of how my friends or family just know, though to be fair I never pretend to be anything that I am not), but now that I think again, perhaps it was less about the fact that they understand me that matters, it's more that they accept me for who I am.

I know that a lot of decisions I made in life (or the way I just do things) does not come naturally for everyone else. I thought that this is normal--I find that many things I observe in people does not come naturally for me too, so I thought it's a personality thing. People are built different. Some people more different than others perhaps. Anyway. I had that moment when it dawns on me that my extended family actually have a very meticulous standard of what good girls should be and I didn't fit in that mold. However, unlike many of my other cousins, who will be chastised and reminded over and over and over, they just leave me be.

So apparently, all these years--me not having an actual mental breakdown every time I visit family like many other normal Indonesian citizen--is most likely because they just put me into "Oh rani is just that odd cookie" and they leave me be. I am quite sure that the conception and believe of everything that I am is alien to them but, they leave me be. 

That was exhibit A. Exhibit B is probably my high school where I met oddest and nicest and most accepting environment in my whole life, which was followed consequently by getting into FISIP where things are also a whole circus there. It seems that for most of my life, I will meet wonderful people who might understand or not understand me, but just accept me for who I was and not bat an eyelash.

I have an entirely different perception of life and relationship and it does not change much because everyone in my life mostly had been accommodating in not correcting them whatsoever lol. What I meant by this is that there is no consequences over all the fuckupity that I've done over my choices of life and things are mostly peaceful and normal (for me). They might not really get where I come from, but they're ok with me anyway. In that sense, I have always been lucky. 

Luckiest.

Now I am in a predicament because my approach in the way I bond with people (which I thought was normal because it has never been challenged in my whole life) was not how it works in this society and I cringed at how absolutely detached and clinical in understanding all of this. I dread the idea that I will and bound to hurt people that I love and care about and I am not even gonna feel guilty about it. More than anyone else I know how merciless I can be and I dread this so hard, maybe I should've died before this episode is happening to my life.

I think I have had moments in thinking that maybe I wasn't so different with everyone else--that my feelings had always been sincere and true--but I will come to realisation again that whatever is people have in their sleeve is not gonna be something that I can take care of properly. That my ignorance over their feelings (thinking that it was enough that whatever I have is there) is actually a selfish point of view that I would not change anyway because I don't see anything wrong with myself putting my best interest first and foremost. I have utter conviction that I am inept in getting these responsibilities and people will not believe that I am because I have been an absolute darling but then it will happen and people are gonna be in pain when that happens (maybe also me). Absolute joke of the universe is that I don't wanna make my important people sad but I have been (and probably will) become their source of torment lol. I can't believe. 

Ok but we'll see, I hope this won't turn for the worse because I'm a weak awkward being and maybe I will be lucky that whatever this is will be resolved in ways that is pain-free for everyone. I thought that me being dead was most pain-free, but it was perhaps most pain-free for me.

-

Funny thing is that I learn a lot of things that I am right about and wrong about.

I was wrong: I am more patient than I give myself credit for. I am more forgiving than I thought I was. Yet I am not as kind and not as unaffected. I was wrong, and I unflinchingly, readily, accept all my mistakes and wrongness because it's fine. I am fine. Of course, it's always easier to accept your mistakes when you're not hurt.

I am right: I am not cut for this. I don't fit. It does not matter because, I too am right that I am enough. I am not more or less, I am enough, and I like it. I am shamelessly, utterly uncaring if people think otherwise. 

-

I have been waiting for death for many years of my life and the deadline that I set for this universe to take me had passed. I am still alive. Now I am forced to think about the future beyond the precautions that I come up with in my youth.

So I am. I am thinking it and I am paving my way to it. Be that way, universe. Be that way. I will continue to wish for you to end me, and you'll see that I am not changing my mind even after many more years living.

People and I

Sometimes my friends would joke about what I did and then I would ask myself if it hurt them. Because it's true that it happened and whilst I don't feel the things that they jokingly said I felt (I don't take it to mind, really) I wonder if it hurt them. Sometimes they don't tell me--or maybe they did, and I just don't get it spectacularly. They will leave it at that. I will leave it at that too.

Because I am actually very good at telling myself to let things be. I think a lot but they hardly stuff that makes me suffer, you see.

There are things about me that my friends know without me saying. Sometimes I think they just know and then don't bother--maybe because I can be difficult. Sometimes they would address it--and it would be a pleasant surprise for me when I realise that they knew more than they let on. I am grateful. Because I know it's not easy.

The thing is, I exercise speaking what I feel a lot. I think I am quite eloquent in saying things that I know. But sometimes, I will have feelings that I don't know of, so I won't be able to say it well. Sometimes I will deal, and I don't tell, because I don't know what to tell either. I wish I could give people closure, but alas, I too not have it. The lies I tell to myself--I never knew what they were.

A friend had said how 'self-absorbed' I am. I don't disagree. I don't give and feel for people to give and feel for me. Things I say and do--no one owe me anything for it. I think knowing that you put yourself as the person you care for through all the things you do (even for others) is ideal for me. But I recognise that it is exactly because of that, I fail many times in understanding that people don't think and feel like I do. Of course they don't. 

I am aware, and still, I will fail. 

But I accepted it. It was a flaw that I am not sure how to fix. To be honest, I thought I have been making progress each time. 

In every encounter and every additional people who I come to treasure in my life, I would like to believe that I understand them better and better too. 

Regardless, I understand that my efforts were not always sufficient, and I would accept if I am no longer serve purpose in their lives.

I am actually really awkward, you know? 

I don't know how to keep people around me. I honestly have no clue. I too know that there's nothing I have on people to stop them from leaving. Why would I want to keep anyone who no longer want me? But some just there for a while, and some have been a constant in my life, and I don't know the reason. I am just grateful that they are. 

Thank you. 

So good to me

The start of the year is quite... tough for me hehe.

For some reason my birth month was filled with uncomfortable feelings. Uncomfortable feelings that I cannot explain myself. 

I felt so unpleasant. I isolated myself more then, the urge to not interact is just so great--I just don't want to be with anyone when I know I'm not a pleasant company.

It got better. It passes. In ways I cannot explain either. Things just stop making me feel terrible. I am not as tired anymore and I am back to normal again.

It came and it went without explanation nor reason I care to know, since what matters is that I'm ok. I think even then, I'm ok too. I'm just not the best, and I'm more tired than ever.

Perhaps I really dread that time because I wish to not live past it.

Yet here I am.

Maybe it took the whole month for me to make peace with that, I don't know. Maybe it's entirely something else either. 

I think I've always known I like my own company best.

Those times were the times when I feel it more than ever.

It felt so good. I can't believe how agreeable I am to myself. How easy I am to come to peace. How easy it was to subside the noises in my head. I can truly trust myself that I worked the hardest to make me happy. In those alone times, I feel secure and whole too. 

I am amazed how good I am listening to myself. Maybe it's a talent. A scary one, because who knows whom I'd hurt for my own convenience. But still, I am grateful for it. I can be happy with myself. 

I actually like me. 

Felt so good to be right in the head.

...Actually, I don't know if I'm right in the head. But it felt like it. 

Time felt a bit weird lately. It felt longer. I don't know if it has happened even last year, but I feel this year is long too. I don't know if it's the work or the pandemic that made the time felt longer. Or if the time indeed become longer.

Or if there's something about my perception of time that changed. I don't know what.

I'm learning Korean. We'll see how that goes.

What a year

This year is literally a year with pandemic, but in retrospect, this year is not... a horrible year for me. I guess it is somewhat horrible that I hardly able to meet up with my friends because I miss them a whole lot, but things are relatively good? Wholesome? I guess.

The thing with this pandemic situation is, I think, that when we are somewhat forced to work with the bare minimum, you'd know what are constant in your life and what isn't. The things you can't live without and the stuff that aren't that important after all. Who are the people you actively wanted to seek and reach out, as well as the people you don't pay much attention to. 

This year has been kind to me. So kind that I would be happy if I my life to end soon. Perhaps next year, hopefully.

-

A few stuff from last year that happened and does not exist in the last year's post

1. 

There was one time when I cried when I was in ojek when I was on my way home. It was just last year. I was so tired that day and I thought:

"I am tired. I wanna go home."

I wanna go home.

I thought.

And the realisation dawned on me--I actually have a home to come to.

In many sense of the word--the physical place that I seek to rest, the family that loves me, the idea of a space that I am comfortable to be. 

So I cried. 

2.

Last year around the same time I was in Bali. I resigned from my previous job and thought that I want to learn how to garden.

So I did.

I eat greens. Met wonderful people. I don't learn much of gardening, I guess. But I managed to resolve the anger that had been haunting me. There are a lot of fun stories.

I write a diary in Japanese every day when I was there. (Didn't bother to continue it when I'm back home)

3. 

I was somewhat part of a relationship drama, figuratively eating popcorn in the sidelines. It was a shoujo manga plot material, I swear. But since I have sworn secrecy, this will only be the extent to where I write it.

This year (so far):

1.

Had the opportunity to work with the sweetest people I have come to encounter. Lovely folks that made me re-learn the stuff that I feel is important, validate values I have, accept me for who I am, listen to what I had to say. It was warm, fun, and I learnt a lot in many ways. My time with them had been short, but I felt so full. I'd be keeping in touch, however they let me.

2. 

Asked myself questions on love and friendship, turns out that I don't think of it and know it as much as I thought I was. The ones that remained unanswered I don't bother to pursue, I am sure it will be answered in due time. I think that I am just plainly happy with what I am, and I am happy to be around if anyone wants me to be. I think in many ways, I don't think many would like me much once they know who I am, so those who stayed after knowing me, I think they're really special and I am really grateful.

3.

The marginal utility of the stuffs that used to bring me joy diminish. But it made a lot of sense--I used to be able to enjoy it sparsely, because with outside activities my options to do other stuffs are aplenty. Now that I can always go back to the things that I know I enjoy, of course I'd do it often. But it's hard that sometimes I do it to keep myself going, instead of to find the joy that I used to get from it. In any case, it happened, but it's inevitable, and I guess it's alright. I can always try new stuff or other alternatives, but still, they brings me joy still, so I still love doing it. Perhaps just not with the same amount of joy that it used to give me.

4.

My family is whole and safe and together most of the year. It hardly brings frustration. It feels nice that we can dinner and lunch together. I love them lots. I hope they are always happy and healthy.

5. 

The interactions I have with my friends increased despite not meeting in person. Still miss seeing them in person... but it makes me happy too, to have them around and got to chat with them more often than before. 

6.

I read a lovely Chinese webnovel that I am absolutely obsessed with and I have been spending so much money for its merchandise. Once in a blue moon (or perhaps never before) I am excited to spend money for stuffs that I hardly use. 

I think CN webnovels as a medium have given me the realisation of how precious and strategic the role of translators were, for you to be able to see another world through their interpretation of words in different language. It's amazing and scary, isn't it? A whole meaning of a novel can change if you, as a translator, weren't able to convey what it was (for whatever reason). 

But of course, traduttore, traditore, and while I agree, the effort of building an image of one same thing using different words and nuance is such a wonderful and important art. Translators, my respect.

-

I have been really happy. I don't need much else.

I hope this ends soon.

A breather, somewhat?

It has been a while since I updated this blog. Now that I think about it, me not writing is mostly less about the fact that I'm lazy or busy.

I just don't spend that much time with myself to sit down with my thoughts, that's why I don't write.

If I do I think it's easier for me to just, you know, write it down somewhere. So when I don't, ya I don't write.

Highlights of my life since last post:

1. I am home all the time
2. I see my friends becoming friends with each other (I really hope they'd be a good one because god I love them, let us be healthy friends forever). 
3. I got to taste what it's like to pay attention to 3D cp again.

Other than that I guess there's nothing much. I am generally happy and I enjoy being home. Though being home is too conducive for me to just, you know, not confront my thoughts. Whenever I have something bugging me it's so easy to resort to nap, or play more games, or read more fanfiction.

Oh, I am increasingly tired of identity politics discourses lately as well. But well, it's not that it takes a lot for me to be tired of something.

Also, I am trying to manage my feelings better too.

You know when you have big feelings toward something, you are way more vulnerable to anything about it. That it's soooo easy to hurt you because what you are just that invested to it. It's so easy to be happy when you love something a lot, as in it takes little for you to be over the moon in regards to anything related to it. But it's the same of being hurt too--I think it takes little for me to get hurt when I love it a lot. Littlest things that is not consistent with my ideal will leave a wound in my heart.

I generally am quite good at managing that: I generally utilise a lot of tools to create a safe space for myself. But sometimes when you seek enjoyment you find yourself roaming, exploring to things that you didn't know would hurt you--and that you only know that it hurts when it did. Those things are particularly hard to avoid (and you just had to get hurt to learn). Sometimes it's just cuz you're unlucky that you just get to experience this or encounter this thing you know you hate and you know hurts you.

Anyways, that's a forever work-in-progress, after last year I am aware that I'm green in having many feelings and that the feelings that I thought I'm good at managing isn't all the feelings that existed (or well. I was just wrong in thinking I'm good at it).

I hope I learn new stuffs this year. Maybe draw more.

Other than that, like most human beings on earth, I wish the pandemic is over soon because I miss eating out and meeting my friends.

Lessons so far!

I was wondering if I should save this reflection until the year ends, because honestly, a lot of things happened in a span of 10~ months and it's been a wild year. I am thinking that even in the last 2 months there might be more stuff that this year has in store for me, but we'll see.

In any case, I learnt a lot this year and I feel a lot of things this year, and the year hasn't even ended yet. This is a note for that, so when I forgot I can visit this page on why I should be less stupid.

Here goes.

I worked on something--became something--I never worked on before, learn things from scratch. Realise that there are many things I can do that I might never know before. I mean, of course there are. I tried so many things in life, and this year I tried that. Apparently I was good, and people I worked with liked me (I know this, because they told me so. I respect them and I like them too. Knowing this makes me happy and sad at the same time). And the most important thing is: I like it. I enjoy it. It was fun and I learnt a whole lot. The work was not easy but I was happy.

So Lesson 1: 

I can try a lot of things and I might be good at a lot of things too. There are plethora of things to work on, to be happy for, and if I don't have that I might just need to try and find it somewhere.

and Lesson 2 (which I have been establishing over and over, I suppose): 

There's no expiry date to make meaningful connections. You can always love and get along with new people. And you can continue to love and get along again with the old ones.

Key takes for these two lessons are to be open with things that I don't know. Knowledge, be it on myself or on the subject, can only help so much, but I can never know until I try. 

But all good things are not without its hurdles, I guess? Becoming good and competent and well-liked is not enough for many things I guess. I thought I can manage, but I cannot. It's hard for me to pretend: to be an impostor who knows nothing but act like she owns it--I cannot do that. I cannot stay when I cannot be the person that I am. I cannot stay, when both principles that I personally believe in and my definition of my role is violated. 

At the time, it's probably the first time I truly feel resentment. I hate. I was upset and I felt horrible, and there is a great urge of wanting to harm another person. Apparently, I am not a person with that much of a big heart.

Lesson 3:

I think I can compromise on a lot of things--I don't think it's because I am very accommodating as a person, but because I find little things that truly offends me. I find that there are only handful of things that I feel strongly about, and with that, I can accept many things. I don't mind doing many things. But there are lines for me, and I know what those are. I feel it. Listen to it, you will not go wrong. Rationality is overrated. You do not need to be rational if the cost is your happiness and peace of mind, rani.

Lesson 4:

I am lucky and I am utterly spoiled by my upbringing and environment. I have been blessed to live and grow in places where values that I uphold are respected. I am never punished for being truthful and being myself. This does not mean it's bad--it's just that I have always known better. I know what's better and it's hard for me to settle for less. I am not going to fault myself for this. Not because I think it's what I deserve, but I think that's the right thing to have. 

Lesson 5:

I am not the bigger person I thought I was. With Lesson 4 in mind, I merely had little to no chance to feel horrible and upset because I was surrounded with lovely and sensible people. It has been natural for the stupid and disgusting ones to be weeded out of my life. So when I was forced to stay and worked with one, I am immensely unequipped and hence the strong emotion. I am not sure if this is what I want to get used to, but I think I at least has to know how to handle my disgust and anger better with these kinds of people (the lowlife ones). 

Key takes for these lessons: the things I experience are what made me, my reflections and values are known to me. And whilst I am aware there are many things that I need to figure out, I think there's no reason to fear since I know what I will need to learn will come to me eventually (like how to emotion with stupidity).

I have no knack in drama (I really think my personality is utterly incompatible with it as a concept), so the day I know it's not working, I resigned the next day. Why stay when 1) I know staying will only make me feel horrible and 2) I am privileged enough to quit. Staying longer will only feed more arguments and I don't want to turn into something I hate, if I can help it.

So Lesson 6:

Whilst there's Lesson 1 (you don't know until you try), there's also Lesson 3 (you know your lines). I know that when I reflect inwards and I am confused with which is which, then I should reflect outwards: my friends and family know me. I trust them to love me and take care of me too, so when I cannot see it clearly on my own, I know I can seek for their advice. 

Key take for this: I am a freaking lucky child.

My mom had the audacity to offer me a poison when I told her that I want to harm the person in question. That's how easy it is for me to come to a conclusion.

(Of course, I didn't poison anyone. Other than the fact that it will not bring any enjoyment to me, since my fantasies consist of more torture, I am scared that if I do they'll do some dukun shit and since I have no access to black magic let's just say that I foresee myself to be miserable and cursed by witchcraft)

So those are what it was so far. 

You know what cheered me up when I was really upset last month?

It is understanding that I am much more that what I do. And even in what I do--there are so much things that I can and want to do.

It is liberating to think that there are paths and ways available in this life, and even if there isn't, being dead is not so bad too!

Again and again, I cannot help but think how utterly lucky I am.

It's ok

There are a lot of things I think I have accepted. I accepted that I am mediocre, for example. I made peace that I also can be ugly, and I probably lie to myself often.

I accept that I care sometimes, and I accept that even if I care a lot I will still be selfish, more often than not.

Also I accept that I don't matter that much. That I am not really important. Replaceable. One among numerous existences in the whole universe. 

For the most part, I know that I think like this for my own benefit. I know that it gives me peace, that's why it's so. I know it. Truly.

It gives me peace, sometimes to the extent it's liberating--to think that I am helpless. That there is so little that I can do. That the world will still be same without me. That everything will still be ok. That no matter how much I fucked up, there will be no actual catastrophe in a grand scheme of things.

It keeps me sane. 

(Sometimes I do think otherwise.) 

(Thinking that I'm responsible for all the injustice that I am ignorant of. That when I die, I will be thrown to hell only because I put a blind eye on things I could've seen. Things I could've done. But choose not to, only to think that it'd be useless.)

(But I have resigned myself to that fate, even if that's true.)

(I do not have the mentality, the heart, nor the strength to be that person.)

So that is it. That is me.

In reality, I am weak. I might have many things--I can do so many things. But I also think that it will be arrogant of me, to think that those things I have and do can make any difference. In short, I might have been that: defeated.

I don't know what have crushed me too. I think I have never been truly crushed ever. But I think the fear of being crushed is what makes me this way.

Sometimes I will remember my family and friends. And I know I am loved. I know that I am treasured and I am cared for. That I am nothing like other existence in the world, and that for them, I am special. Might not be the most important, nor the most valuable, nor the best in anything, really. But to them I am something that matters. That to some extent, I have responsibility, and I have the power to make their life better or worse.

But

I would like to think that they too, will be ok without me. 

(I trust that they will.)

And with that thought, I am at peace.

And I am free.

The Commitment to Love

Ok so I today I hang out with friends and as usual, we visited a toy store. When we pass by the stuffed toy section, there was this sloth.

Utterly, adorable, sloth. I feel like I'm enamored--a little.

He's so soft and he's so cute. I looked at it in the eyes and there was something inside me that screams as if he's begging me to take him.

There is only one of him there.

But. He's a stuffed toy. Unlike my other toys--or at least the one I bought, I don't think I am going to let him sit on my shelf. His fur is... fur, and he's not a hand puppet, he does not move, and he's not a gift. If I bought him, he will, out of principle, should sleep on the bed with me.

But I have Fior already.

This creates a massive cognitive dissonance on me. Will I be able to love and care for him like I should? If I went somewhere and I want to bring my stuffed toy, will I have to choose between them? I AM SO SCARED. I am confused, also I don't know what to feel?

To be fair there was a time when I bring other stuffed toy when I go somewhere else, notably when I went to SG for a semester--Fior wasn't with me. I brought Bernard. On some occasions, I brought Sully. But for many years, Fior was my only bed buddy. He shared space with other stuffed toy too, but he stayed with me the longest. I don't always hold him, but he was almost always there. My bed buddy.

I don't know. It's so confusing. I didn't (haven't?) bought him, I was thinking that... if the next time I come he's there, then maybe I should take him with me.

It's so weird that I don't think I hesitate that much in creating rooms for another person in my heart, but when it's on stuffed toys I do.

But then for people, they're always different. No one is the same. And I will love them, and because they are different, I am fond of them for variety of reasons, remember them for different things, love them in slightly different way. But stuffed toys are... not people.

They are special less because they worm their way to my heart, but more because I assigned things to them that probably does not exist, have this certain fantasy or believe of what they mean to me.

It's an utterly selfish framework. I mean, of course it is. What else could it be?

And even then I am not sure if I have the commitment whether he can be special to me--given I already have Fior, or if Fior can still be special for me--given I brought another bed buddy.

Should I even be confused though.

Growth, somewhat

It's been a while and a lot had happened! Now I am working in another new company with new and old friends. I haven't really... been productive in much things else (I played regularly but do I write and draw regularly? And read regularly? No) I haven't even write my dreams for a lot of months. But that's not surprising anymore hahaha

I always thought I don't have a lot of friends, and at one point I don't think I am capable of making more meaningful relationships, but I was wrong. It turns out that I have quite some people whom I care a lot and whose relationship benefits me so much that I wanna keep it probably forever. And I was able to find a companion even when I didn't expect it. Or maybe I am just ultra lucky (like most of the time in my life).

Anyway, I have a theory that being nice is something like a talent.

So if you have a talent for being nice--maybe not in literal fashion, but more of a talent of being able to read the air, have the sensitivity towards your surrounding, actually have inclination to maintain harmony, and things that you can utilise to act appropriately to those around you--then being nice to others and making people like you may come naturally for you.

But for most people, they learn how to be nice. Like me!

For me, I find it strategic for people to like me and thus, beneficial to be nice.

The thing is, I get away with being rude often. I said a lot of things without thinking it through (whether it will hurt someone, whether it's politically correct) and most of the time they can be hurtful. BUT, for many occasion, it does not have any bad repercussions to me. No broken relationships, no fights, no drama. Thus, I learnt how to be nice when I was way older than I think I should be (or idk, some people are old and they're still mean so maybe this is not the case).

Anyway! I learnt that the things I do or said would be perceived as mean and insensitive, in the broader scheme or a more general context. And that I was able to get away with it because I already established a good relationship with whoever I said or did those things to. I used to be selfish in all things I do but once I understand that it is in my best interest to make people I care about happy too--it's easier being nice. I want to continue being nice until being nice and kind come more naturally for me.

I would like to think my people skills are better now. I still suck hanging out with a crowd but I generally able to make small talks now even if I thought it's dumb.

It's painful

I am sad. I often am, but I rarely express that I am sad, often because the feelings of sadness quickly turns into resignation and well, what do you expect from this world?

But sometimes I am hurt, and thus I am sad.

I wonder if I am not so alone, will I be better?

But even in company of a person who knows you really well, you are different. There can only be so much words to describe things, there can only be so many things from your head you can articulate, and another person can only understand so much.

Sometimes I wish some people, some things, will understand. But they will never. Not only because the many barriers of encoding and decoding a message. Sometimes I don't understand it too.

Some other times, I don't even want to understand. I just want to cease the thought. Cease the feelings.

Anyway. I should have known. I know that I am alone in my thoughts and alone in my feelings. I am never quite sure that I want to have a company for it. Sounds intrusive. It just that I

I

sometimes wish that I don't think so much. Or feel so much.

It's painful.

Water Container

Let's say, there's a container and then you fill it with water until it's full. If you add some more, it'll spill. If you nudge them, it'll spill. If you didn't hold them properly, it'll spill.

Maybe, for years, I have stop growing as a container.

I am filled to the brim, and I cannot hold anymore water.

Or maybe I didn't stop growing--my container is not growing fast enough to keep the water that has keep coming.

I am not a bigger container for the water that I have inside me.




At one point, I am full. And I think I find no way to lessen its amount--or maybe I did, but then it's filled again quicker than I can take them out of me that I am still full.




And apparently, being full is suffocating. It is suffocating, so I just want things to stop.

I think what I did so far is that I look at my container, see it full with water, and pat myself in the back.

"It's enough. You're full."




(I don't want the container to be bigger cuz it's a lot of work.)
(And I don't want the water to be put out somewhere cuz it's also a lot of work.)

(I thought maybe, I was just plain lazy.)



I now realise I am just scared.

I am scared of what entails in being a bigger container. I am scared of the things I have to go through and things I have to sacrifice to be a bigger container.
I am scared that sharing the water out will break other containers. I am sure it will. I have the conviction that I ultimately will destroy those containers and I don't want it to happen.

And I absolutely have no interest on being brave.

I don't wanna be brave. I have accepted that I am scared. And I don't want to overcome it.





Why would I have to, when at one point the container will be filled again
and I have to find a way to make myself bigger
or make get rid of the water that filled me

when I can
stop the source of water?


I thought.





But I just wish I don't have to stop them.


I just wish
it stops.

Saying things out loud

I think it was a month ago or something. I saw a tweet saying something along the lines of “being raised in Asian household makes me unable to say thanks or apologize to my parents”. In most cases, of course, it’s understandable. When family makes mistakes, they don’t need to say sorry since it’s somehow unwritten rule that it’ll be forgiven for sure. When they do or say nice things to us, it’s not a favor. It’s just family thing. Things we normally take as something for granted. High context culture and all that, no need to mention things like sorry or thanks since we’re family. So I know. I know it’s awkward and hard. I’ve been there too.

Never thought too much about the time when I burst out crying because I have disagreement with my parents, or have a shout-match with my sister, because not 5 minutes later we’re going to have dinner together and everything’s alright.

I remember, I saw my cousin said, “thanks” to her mom, and I thought, “Why did I never say thanks to mom? That’s stupid.” So I did. I started saying thanks to her.

I remember, I was in middle school, it was in dining table. I said, “Thanks mom.”

It was so awkward and foreign the first time.

The first time I tried to apologise to my grandma was around then too. I can’t even confirm if she actually heard me or not since I ran out of the room as soon as I finished mumbling, “Sorry I was mean to you when I was younger.”

But it gets easier.

I said sorry to my mom and dad when I said something mean too. Sometimes I said sorry in advance, I said, sorry I’m so easily pissed off these days, please forgive me if I said something mean. Sorry that I was home late. Sorry that I was wrong. My sister too. Sorry, I said that because I was angry. She understood.

You know what? They did too. I didn’t even realize when it started, but my mom and dad say sorry and thanks too. My sister too, obviously. Not immediately, or often (well we don’t have that many things to be sorry for and somethings are just business as usual to say thanks to) but they change as I do it.

Then generally talking comes easy. Not all arguments can be made with sounds reasons, cuz with my parents I cannot help but be easily emotional, but most of the time talks are fruitful and enhance understanding. I thought that’s growing up, talking about stuffs. That was around when I am convinced to take talking face-value, that things can be talked about, and better being talked about. It’s easy for me to say things that is on my mind, because I am never really punished for it, and I find that it solves variety of problems fairly quickly. This prove to cause problems since then I am not equipped with the ability to small talks or bullshit things through, but well, I guess I’m learning (very slowly).

Anyway.

Before I went to London, my aunt told me she gonna miss me. My mom was there. Later on that day, I asked my mom if she’s not sad that I am leaving. She said, “Well, sometimes you don’t say things that you feel” with the most heartbreaking tone and I felt tears pricking my eye.

So there’s that too.

But we grow, you see. At one point, conversations like “please don’t say things like that, hearing you say that hurts me,” or “I am sorry I make you sad, let’s not do it if it makes you unhappy” are common, as we are learning what are the things important to be said and what are the things better left unsaid—things that I don’t imagine is said out loud but in mainstream media.

But really. If everything is normal* then your parents must love you and they learn to be parents too, for all their life. Why wouldn’t they, when their children constantly evolving into something that they may or may not ever imagine. Help them do it. Learn with them. Hopefully we can be better parents and children together when we can talk things through.




*Not all household are ideal so sometimes parents suck, if this is not you then you are blessed indeed

My concerns lately

Sometimes I worry that I am not very honest with myself.

I think I'm pretty honest, but what if I'm not? How would I know? After all, it is me who I'm lying to. And I might be a terrible liar, but I am also pretty gullible. I don't know.

Like… I don’t know. Sometimes I think I know myself so much. But what if it’s because what I am is just what I think I am?

And I wonder if that’s even a valid question, cuz, why wouldn’t you be the person you think you are? I don’t understand this. I have too much existential crisis.



You know, sometimes I get tired too, when I seemed to be more of an interesting specimen, or an exception, for my surroundings. I mean, I also like to think I'm special, but to dismiss my experience or my perspective because I am not 'like most people'  is also disconcerting.



I know I am a serious person, but I didn’t know that I’m so serious that I don’t know how not to be serious about things anymore. I butchered small talk. I cannot. Somebody should tutor me how to not talk seriously, or talk about serious stuffs, or twist a non-serious talk into something serious. How do I keep things light, anyway? What can people even ask about things that doesn’t matter?

An update!

I am not neglecting this blog, I swear. I was locked out of it for a while because I was not able to figure out my password for the old email which I used for this account. Yeah, I know, lame, and I am a little traumatised (even though everything should be fine now) because I am reminded yet again

that

things can (and most of the time, surely) end abruptly without any warnings beforehand. So my last post would be my last post. And I could never erase the stupid stuffs that I finally stumbled upon from my old self (I rarely did this but some things are dumb that I cannot not erase it for the sake of my sanity). Basically stuffs just ends and I cannot do anything about it and it sobered me up.

But since as I mentioned in the last post, that what I want or do might not be something deliberately purposeful anyway--maybe it does not matter all that much.



Anyway. Things moved on since the last time I posted. For instance, I am not in the UK anymore, which saddened me sometimes (because I genuinely like London). And I am employed now (because living costs money, that's why). But basically a chapter of me pursuing my master had come to an end. And it ends pretty well, in a way that it feeds my ego.

You see, I tried really hard. I did.
I wanna be good. So I read and I write and I become better.
I thought I have become better, but I just become 'slightly' better. Good, but not good enough, I thought.

At the first few weeks of my study, I thought of how hard studying is really is, and thinking that I might not be able to finish with a flying colours. When I was working on my dissertation, I tried making peace with the fact that I might have tried really hard but it might turned out to be just... alright. (Well the story of mediocrity is not just about trying to be good at Splatoon 2 ya see). Funny thing is, it turned out that I did (pass with flying colours. Somewhat), and I still think I am not good enough.

Now in retrospect, this is where I notice what inferiority complex really is. I thought it was the means to be humble (because I am humbled), but I get so far to not acknowledge achievements when it's in front of me. I convinced my self that I am nothing but the usual, and it... might not be as good as I thought it should be.

Regardless, I don't think it is something that I can imagine changing, yet. At least. Idk. I can't imagine me being anything than I am now. So what if it's humility, or inferiority complex, I feel what I want. Let me be joyous in thinking that I am not amazing (which I am really not).

But overall I was all great experience since I got a friend and level-up my friendship with another. I am smarter than I was a year ago, and I am better equipped for life than I was a year ago. I thought I have myself all figured out but I am not, and that's evolution for you.



Another update of my life is that I still wonder how did I ended up being so lucky. I am so lucky. In this bleak, horrid world, where it is very conducive to be evil, when it's easy to be horrible, that I am surrounded with wonderful people. That I find people whom I can see in the eyes, and that I find sincerity and love in their dreams. That I can talk to them, and how it makes life more bearable. That they are wonderful, more than Wizard of Oz could ever be, I am sure.

I wonder why I am so defeated--when I am loved, when I am capable of getting what people find valuable, when I am surrounded by wonderful people. I wonder why I am like this? What is the lie that I told myself? What has happened that makes me this way? What makes me so tired? And terrible?



I think I am plenty nice despite being tired and terrible, though.

[DRAFT] Will

(written 22/3/15, edited just now. Just so it's out there.)

There are times when I looked at cats or dogs and started to wonder why do I do things I do. Why am I busy with assignments, trying to graduate college, trying to have more money. Functioning in society. Whatever thing else. Who decide that I have to live my life this way? Why don't I do things other creatures do?

Even somewhere out there, another human being is leading their life with concerns that are nothing like mine too. They do things that I don't do too. But why do I? Why do I do these things? Most of the things I do are things that I can't help but do--because this is where I was born; because this is the family I'm raised from; because these are the friends that I made; because this is my name; because those are the people I met; because these are things I learnt; because these are things that come across my life; so on and so on. That's why I have to go to school. That's why I can climb trees. That's why I have to wear clothes. That's why I read books. That's why I watch cartoons. That's why I love my cat. That's why I act this way.

Every single thing I do in this world is nothing but the echo of other things that I have no control over. What do I actually have control over? Even my assessments and my choices are born out of spite or because of reasons that aren't coming from myself. Even the way I think about things are shaped by things around me. Even what I feel is probably just chemical reactions of various things that made up my body. A body that constantly altered, little by little, by age, by what I ate, by what I drank, by whatever else.

Nothing.


But I'm here writing this. Not.. mad. Long has been gone since I accepted the fact that I'm not at all important in this universe--that I'm probably just another microscopic screw out of this grand scheme made by higher existence or something. A tiny, insignificant speck.

I just... sometimes I just want things. Sometimes I want to be a dog, a pony, a boy, anything that can fly, live underwater, I want to see dinosaurs. But I can't. I can't be a dog. I can't fly. I can't live underwater and befriend sea creatures. I can't.

I don't think any amount of working or training or praying can ever grant me any of those.

What is a free will when your will are free only for things you CAN do?

Or having this kind of feeling is free will too? Wanting things that you can't have ever. That's free will? A feeling that are response to your inability to achieve things?

Feelings? Conclusion from process of cognition? Is that it?

Well.

I don't know.