Questions which Remain Mystery(ies)

Recently, my mind keeps enquiring ridiculous questions which no one would know the answers (well, merely my assumption. Never try to ask my acquaintances though.)
I think it would be kind of profligate to make single post for each enquiry.
Therefore, I decide to compile them in this very posting.
Enjoy the absurdity of my non-sense thoughts!


#1
When we are living our lifes,
does it mean we are struggling to write our own fate,

or,

no matter how hard our efforts are,
we are actually doing nothing but throwing ourselves into what has been written for us?


#2
Human can't be detached from labels.
Numbers, names, nicknames...
I wonder
in which label God would call us when he talks to us
(since I've never experienced such conversation),
for our names are actually human-made?



#3
Jan 16th, 2012
After watching 'The Fight Club'
I wonder how would I live my life
If I haven't told how to live a decent one
by parents, by teachers, friends
or society

...Would I live rather freely
or I would just end up wandering aimlessly?




#4
How does exactly one (who acclaimes that he has good instinct and such)
distinguish between 'instincts' and 'paranoia'?




#...






Will be updated regularly.
Feel free to response if you think you have answers to my senseless curiosity.

Determination

It's unfair, is not it.
To observe that some people know what they want in life as soon as they learn to talk,
(I'm not exaggerating it. Through Wikipedia I found out recently that some people actually do so.)
while the rest still wondering what really the purpose of their life is when their hair already start to whiten?

Determination.
Is one's ability to possess it brought by nature, from birth
or is it completely autonomous, by nurture?

If it's by nature,
then is it true,
that some people are meant to be something,
and the rest are going to be just nobody?

If it's by nurture,
why... in such young age?

Unfair.

God (?)

Tuhan, Kamu di mana?

Ketika namamu dijadikan tameng untuk pencitraan semata
oleh orang-orang munafik itu...
...Di mana Kamu, Tuhan?

Ketika kami mulai merasa hati nurani ini bukan bisikanMu,
melainkan hanya akumulasi dan bentukan norma sosial...
...Di mana Kamu, Tuhan?

Ketika kami mulai membuat justifikasi-justifikasi
dan segalanya jatuh dalam relativitas...
Hitam dan putih menjadi abu...
...Di mana Kamu, Tuhan?








...Tuhan?




















Tuhan?




Kamu di sana?





*meraba-raba dalam gelap*

Paradoxical Enquiry

Random scratch during boring session of certain occasion.

Here and there, I see people shouting and wailing about death cause by starvation,
about how unequal and unfair it is...
They say, approximately 25,000 people die of hunger everyday.
What a perplexing statistic and fact, isn't it?

But

I also see how certain people complaining and becoming anxious about how abundant today's world population is. And it keeps growing, due to inability of third world countries to halt birth rate. Failed programs to educate their citizens.

This is where I think it's getting odd.
Why, on earth, do people keep on persisting to decrease death rate caused by poverty, abortions, and such,
when it is actually helping them to prevent uncontrolled growth of earth inhabitants?

Ah, my questioning the motive of people's persistence seems ridiculous, doesn't it?
It's understandable that they keep on doing so:
For the sake of humanity.
Yeah.

But what if I view it this way,
that those phenomenons are simply the way life trying to balance itself?
Balancing between life and death.
Yin and Yang.

Of course, if we view it specifically, case per case of starvation, what I've been saying will seem inappropriate.

After all, they suffer.
It was not instant death. They suffer to the point they have no more urge to live,
wishing that death will approach them himself.
Definitely, this is not the ideal condition we would wish to happen to us.

..........................

Ouch.
This macroscopical point of view makes me sounds cruel, doesn't it?
Either this blows your mind, or you find it as silly as other fallacies are.
Enlighten me, someone?

Tired

Things are getting too demanding.

Things that I thought would ease and have better understanding upon me are starting to demand their rights, too.

Things that used to hold me so I won't fall apart are now ones that torn me.

I don't know which to prioritise,

or I think I know. But then turns out I was wrong.

They are now against me.


I am confused, yet really am weary.

I wish I could just hibernate, or you guys could just ignore me for awhile.

Pretending that I am not here.

I need time to keep up so I will not lose myself.

I am tired.




Not sure if it was too heavy, or it is me who is weak.

But it is amazing is not it, to see how much burden such fragile human can bear?

I am not going to die soon, I promise (at least by my own hands).

I will prove how mighty human is in terms of survival.

The video is not somewhat related to the writing, but watching it enhanced what I have been feeling towards things lately. So I feel like somehow obligatory to embed it here.

Beauty

THEN

 NOW

* * *

Dear Women,


Tell me,
why are we so trapped by that society-defined 'beauty'?


It changes through times anyway.








Pictures' source: vintage weight-gain ads

Reply

This writing was supposed to be a reply to my friend's opinion about her first theatrical experience as an audience. But turned out it is quite long that I decided to make a new post.

* * *

On your first point, I feel the same way when I watched Teater Koma's ANTIGONEO. The dialogues are tediously long, and I perceive that some scenes' existence are not that significant in supporting the whole plot line. But I think it's just me who didn't possess enough intelligence to understand them. Perhaps, that's really what theatre is all about (as you pointed out earlier).

I. Yudhi Soenarto (the director and scriptwriter) told us that all of the dialogues were carefully chosen, and he tried to make not even single sentence ends up pointlessly. Several are meant to strengthen the nature of each characters (as you said), some are additions in order to build logical & sensible plot, and the rest are allusions to ongoing political issues in our country. But I agree with you. It would be much better if those ideas could be delivered in much more concise dialogues.

And I have to admit that I personally think that the scenes' settings are not visually enchanting, compared to other plays I've watched. This has something to do with internal issues, but I don't think I'm supposed to write it down here, in publicly-visible social media.

You can compare the settings of this play to settings of 'Sayang Aku HIV, Kamu Ngapain Aja?' (2008) which was also produced by Teater Sastra UI.

Perhaps this also affected your interest in watching the play, since you're a visual person.

I spotted interesting point there, about the internal jokes. I did not notice this at all until you pointed it out. Sure, the jokes are supposed to be generally acceptable. Regarding the internal jokes, I. Yudhi Soenarto of course avoids including any form of it in the script. But, the actors did lots of improvisations on stage. I am pretty sure that the internal jokes are recited out of consciousness. Please note that I'm not trying to justify my fellows' (or even mine?) mistakes. We should have avoided that, I know.
Which part of the dialogues that contained internal jokes (which you wouldn't get unless you read the booklet), if I may ask? :)

About the costumes, I also think they were pleasing to the eye. And what's amazing about it is the fact that we didn't rent any costumes. We have a pile of clothes, I don't know how did they get those clothes, but the point is, that the pile is some kind of 'stock of costumes'. All they (people from costume division) did was just mix-matching those clothes, and it has to have no similarities (at least, the audiences won't notice) with costumes in previous plays. If you remember my first costume, the white transparent (some kind of) lace around my arms? It was actually a tutu skirt, pressed by the black vest I wore afterward. The costume division deserves salutation, don't you think?

On your questions about the plot... Well. I will try to explain it from my point of view and from what I've known. People can have different interpretations, and what I am going to say could in fact deviate from what actually I. Yudhi Soenarto intended it to be. Forgive me if such misunderstandings happen.

Okay. Now I am confused how to start this.
*cough*

I perceive that the Prime Minister initial suggestion about holding the 'Baju Baru Sang Raja' festival was free from any intention of embarrassing The King. He suggested it merely in order to present idea to celebrate The King and Queen's wedding anniversary in such glamour way, which was an allusion on how our government frequently wastes money and allocates it for unnecessary expenses. Do you remember the case when members of People's Representative Body (sounds pretty weird, but I checked Miriam Budiarjo's textbook regarding this term. Finally, 'Introduction to Political Science' subject is put into good use. Ha!) proposed to make golden rings for them, as a 'farewell' item? Well, I associates that case with this scene.

But, the Defence Minister saw this as an opportunity to take over the reign. Of course, he couldn't do it with his own hands. He needed mass and back-ups to run his plan, so that he will not be spotted in case it ends up failing.

On the other side, the activists had their own interest to take down the king, with their own motives. But, you see, they're in deficiency of funding. That's why, I guess, they initially suggested about participating in the festival as contestant (though in the end they didn't).

This was where the needs of Defence Minister and the activists' interest met. The Defence Minister willingly funded the activists' demonstration (though he emphasise not to be mentioned at all), and the activists willingly held demonstration to achieve Defence Minister's and their own goal. It was explained in the third scene, if I am not mistaken.

Apparently, there's third party involved in this plan. I hope you still remember the part where Defence Minister was receiving phone call and doing conversation in English. From his dialogues (monologues), we can assume that he was making phone call with foreigner.

Bruce Wong was also making phone call in the penultimate scene, elaborating that the plan went just well.  I assume the person that was talking to Bruce Wong was the same person as the one who phoned Defence Minister. That person from America, with unknown background, was the mastermind of this plan. He has his own motives, of course, by interfering the political condition in that kingdom, but that was not elaborated explicitly in the play.

Is there anything more in the designer other than he's from America or is he involved with the plan along with the activist/defence minister?
Yes, the designer was involved with the plan along the Defence Minister and activists.

Isn't that mean that the evil minister and the activist was lucky enough that the king making a fool of himself at the time? They only wanted to point out how much money the king spent for it right?
Nope. I'm really sorry for the badly organised explanation, but I hope you get my point. They weren't lucky. The King's making fool of himself at the time was not coincidence. It was well planned coup d'état 

About your lack of interest in politics... I hear you, mate, I hear you. I was never a fan of politics too.
As Peter Merkl said,

Politics at its worst is the selfish grab for power, glory, and riches.

Indonesia's politic has reached this degree, and I'm so disgusted with it. I feel like it shows nothing but how cruel, selfish, and beastly people can be. How true the phrase 'Homo Homini Lupus' is.

Indeed, politics is excruciating topic to contemplate on for some people. That's why this play was delivered in the form of satyric comedy, in hope that we can deliver the message through laughter. So that the issue could be accepted by general audiences. I'm so sorry that we failed to satisfy you in this aspect :(

Additions
I let Nosa Normanda (the one who played Bruce Wong) saw your post. He thanks you for the critics. To respond your critics, his argument was:

'In this play, 'context' was everything. If you can't relate the allusions to the on going political context, you'll fail to understand and enjoy this performance.'

I asked him whether other plays are similar to this, that it has elongated dialogues and such. He said,

'There are many kinds of approach that could be used to develop the plot line. This one's called Brecht (since it was initiated by Bertold Brecht). Brecht explored theatre as a forum for political ideas.'

I guess that explains why the dialogues were incredibly long. There were extractions of I. Yudhi Soenarto's political ideology, I think.

He also suggests you to read Kompasiana's article. This article reviewed the play scene per scene, pretty much detailed. It will help you to understand the context, in case you are interested :)

* * *

Thank you so much for the critics!
Though you didn't seem to enjoy the performance, I really am glad you write honestly about what you think about it, and that you didn't pretend to like it. Which brings us into (some kind of) discussion regarding this topic! This may not be a pretty neat reply to your questions, but I hope it will be satisfying enough for you (if not, please don't hesitate to make another reply).


I advise you to not so quickly jump into conclusion that theatre is not your thing. Like stated before, theatre consists of lots of types and sub-types. Maybe it's just this one doesn't suit you well.

Lastly, I really thank you, Rani, for your willingness to spare your time watching this, for your support, encouragements each time before I performed. And now I read that you wrote,

'I was there for a friend'.....

It... really touches me. To certain extent.

I've already forgotten what it was like when a friend did something so sincere for me.

Come-back Message

I guess there's no need for me to say sorry for the millionth time since it's now start to sound hackneyed.

My last post was on the 7th of September. Haven't posted anything ever since. Now it's nearly the end of November.

Okay, I admit this blog has been terribly abandoned. Horribly. For nearly 3 months.
I am currently writing this with mixture of excitement, rage, and disappointment with myself. I couldn't tell which has the biggest portions. I really am excited to write and tell you a lot of things that has been happening for the last 3 months, like, reaaallly lot--tremendous in quantity--things. Well, how could not so? Lots of things happens in a single day, depends on what perspective you put in seeing things. And imagine that it has been accumulated for 3 months--90 days plus plus. Wow. Millions of tiny fragments of life momentums.

On the other side, I am in sort of anger and disappointment, that I could not control and force myself to write. Write. Just to sit in front of computer and to type something. Trash, poems, whatsoevers. I could not. How could so? I keep procrastinating and seeking reasons for not doing something instead of seeking urges to push me through. Not that I am not distracted with academic business for the past 3 months... It's just, writing supposed to be my way to escape, to heal myself through those hectic moments. And now that I have to push that hard to make myself to WRITE something... I start to question whether this is really the call of my life. Nah, but that's just one of those insignificant silly thoughts that pointlessly appears, I guess.

Pardon me if this writing seems to be pretty disorganised in terms of grammar, vocabulary, structure, content, and such. The blade has been blunt and rusty due to its lack of usage, it seems.

Like I've said, I have a lot to tell you and I couldn't help but hope that I shall not forget what exactly are things that I'm going to tell you. In order to not letting those things be forgotten, I may write my next posts not neatly organised in term of timeline. I may write what happened yesterday first, then I move slowly to what happened three days ago, last week, et cetera. I shall write what I initially remember, sequentially and emotionally.

And, oh, I would like to inform you that I'd likely to abandon this blog for another week, due to my first theatrical performance in Graha Bakti Budaya, Taman Ismail Marzuki on November 25th-27th.

Yippie-ka-yeay!

It is going to take my whole weekend, and I have to rehearse in Taman Ismail Marzuki from November 23th, so... yeah. The schedule's pretty tight next week.
Maybe you're currently questioning, why on earth, out of sudden, I could take part in a play that performs in TIM? Well, lots of things definitely has occurred during my absence, hasn't it? :)

Crucifix

About a week ago, I was spending family time with my father and brother. We just bought cinema ticket, and the movie was going to start in about an hour, so we decided to stroll around the mall, seeing if there's anything that might caught our eye to be bought.

Right when we were about to pass a christian bookstore, my father paused his walk, and asked me,

'I am thinking about buying you a decorative crucifix... What say you?'

I did some kind of astonished and bewildered expression on my face, before I replied,

'Huh? For what?'

'You know, to be hung on your room's wall, on the wall beneath the door, perhaps?'

I was not sure how to respond this. I did not see this coming and was not that pleasant when the idea of doing so being represented. I thought of my preference of not being pretty much attached with religious symbolism, hence I replied,

'I guess, there will be no need for me to buy such thing.' I smirked as if I perceive the idea was pretty silly.

'Oh, okay then.' My father didn't change his countenance.

We then continued our walk. After awhile, there's some kind of distracting feeling that seemed to worsen each seconds. I couldn't help but wonder, have my spiritual condition been that severe, that I refuse to be related of any religious symbolism? And most of all... I did feel really bad for rejecting my father's offer.

After few minutes of reconsideration, I told him,

'Pa, I changed my mind. Let's go buy the crucifix.'

He looked at me with kind of look I couldn't seem to interpret.
'You're weird.'

Even so, we did go back to the christian store and buy the crucifix. I felt relieved.

* * *

Moments ago I was texting with my father. He asked me if I have put the crux on the wall.

'Not yet, I still put it on my desk,' I typed.
Lest that he might think I am not happy of the crucifix's being in my room, I despised myself for haven't tried to hang it on the wall using sellotape. So I did that before my father replied any of my texts.

I should have known it wouldn't be possible that the sellotape was enough to keep the crux being attached to the wall. I should have. Even until know I keep cursing myself why haven't I thought of that.... because the moment I stepped down the chair and took distance from the wall to see if the height was enough, the crux slipped down and broke into pieces.

My heart seemed to sink.
I tangled with confusion for moment, engrossed with grief, when my mobile phone made a sound. Dad had replied my text.

'Ask the landlady to seek for help to nail the crux onto the wall'

Yeah, why hadn't I thought of that. Too little too late.
I immediately told my father regarding the misfortune, indeed. Well... I couldn't know how his real feeling was,  seeing the fact that conversation in texts seem to be expressionless. He said it was okay, he's going to buy a new one. I wailed about how I adore the appearance of this one, and he ensured me that he is going to buy the exact same crux. I apologised him numerous times, felt really sorry for being unappreciative of his giving, and he said it's alright. His replies only made me feel guilty even more.

Regardless my clumsiness that seems to prove otherwise, I believe that each gifts has its personal value themselves, that though the gift was chosen from (perhaps) lots of similar ones, it was different. Replacement of broken gifts does not really work as 'replacement'. Each gifts has its own story, that's what I perceive. That's what makes me grieve even more. Though my father is going to buy a new one, it was not going to be the same.

'I guess, there will be no need for me to buy such thing.'

I feel like I'm being punished by the universe.

Trivial Things

Hai yang di sana.
Saya tahu (bukan) kayaknya (lagi) sudah berminggu-minggu dan berhari-hari dan berjam-jam dan bermenit-menit dan berdetik-detik sejak posting terakhir saya (kalau yang ini gak dihitung). Maaf ya, jamaah. Itu bukan tanda-tanda kalau blog ini akan segera ditelantarkan, cuma.... belakangan ini (bukan) agak sedikit (lagi) hectic.

Izinkan saya merekap kegiatan 3 minggu terakhir. Iya, ini bakal jadi semacam diary isi curhat ABG biasa.

Setelah berdebat, menimbang-nimbang, pura-pura ngasih saran padahal sebenarnya menyugesti, ayahanda akhirnya setuju saya indekos.
Ini kamar saya:

tadaaa

Ini sengaja fotonya yang sebelum dimasukkin barang, soalnya kalau yang sekarang.... yah... gitu deh. Pokoknya bagusan yang ini.

Resmi sudah saya tinggal di sini tertanggal 2 Agustus. Tanggal 3 Agustus daftar ulang, jadi saya pikir mending saya nginep di sini semalam biar besoknya bisa bangun dan datang pagi-pagi ke tempat daftar ulang.

Juga, tanggal 2 Agustus ada pertunjukkan teater di FIB, judulnya 'Matinya Pedagang Manusia'. Jadi habis beres-beres kamar, saya langsung ngesot ke FIB bareng teman saya. Pengalaman perdana nonton teater di kampus ini. Dan ternyata keren. Sumpah. Kepanjangan kalau saya cerita di sini, jadi baru bakal saya bahas di posting selanjutnya.

Walau ditulis di website bahwa registrasi ulang dimulai jam 08.00, tapi pas saya nyampe jam 07.30 itu ngantrinya udah nazubillah..... Udah kayak bagi-bagi sembako gratis motor. Selesai daftar ulang, kami digiring ke stand orientasi, stand fakultas, stand jurusan, yang semua-semuanya gak kayak stand, cuma macam duduk di atas tikar digelar dan saat itu matahari lagi pas di atas kepala alias jam 12.00. Selesai-selesai, kami semacam dehidrasi, basah karena keringet, dan bau ketek. Pas pulang, ternyata kaki saya belang pula.

Akibat pakai flat shoes

Agenda terdekat dari hari daftar ulang adalah latihan paduan suara, tanggal 6 Agustus. Rupanya semacam tradisi di sini, bahwa mahasiswa baru setiap tahunnya nyanyiin para wisudawan di hari wisuda. Awalnya ada sedikit euforia 'pertama kali', juga semacam mencibir mereka yang mau bolos latihan padus. Ternyata euforia ini semakin menyusut di setiap latihan hingga akhirnya menyentuh titik 0 besar di latihan ke-3 menjelang ke-4.
Dan latihannya itu setiap hari Minggu pagi-siang. Saya gak bisa pulang ke Jakarta dan jadi ditinggal nonton Transformers. Cuih.

9-10 Agustus diisi acara Character Building, dan acara ini jauh banget dari perkiraan saya. Saya pikir bakal asik, seru, dan memotivasi. Alhasil, di hari pertama saya tidur pulas sambil bersandar di tembok gymnasium, dan baru bangun setelah jam makan siang. Hari kedua, saya kabur di jam istirahat pertama.

Tanggal 12-13 Agustus ada orientasi tingkat universitas, yang isinya kuliah-kuliah umum yang tidak bisa saya dengar sama sekali karena saya kebagian tempat duduk di paling belakang dan speaker di bagian belakang mati.
Lalu ada sesi orasi-orasi dari... panitia? Saya juga kurang jelas siapa saja itu yang teriak-teriak di panggung depan. Yang jelas, setelah acara ini saya membulatkan tekad untuk gak ikut demonstrasi dalam bentuk apapun.
Terus ada sesi yang diisi oleh pembicara: 'Archan Sang Provokator'. Right. Namanya aja udah gak enak. Mulanya saya mikir konten bicaranya lumayan, sampai suatu titik di mana dia mendiskreditkan kaum gay dengan mengatakan bahwa kaum gay merupakan bentuk degradasi moral bangsa. Okeh. Saya resmi illfeel sama Archan.

Orientasi tingkat fakultas sendiri jatuh pada tanggal 15-16 Agustus. Acara ini menurut saya lebih berbobot dan berguna daripada orientasi tingkat universitas, walaupun saya hampir yakin titik perhatian seluruh maba FISIP di acara ini jatuh pada tibum. Tibum, alias ketertiban umum. Tibum ini semacam seksi keamanan dan seksi disiplin yang ngecek semua atribut dan ngatur mobilisasi. Menarik perhatian karena.... tibum itu gak nyantai banget kalau nemuin segala bentuk pelanggaran (baca: tarik urat) (baca: bentak-bentak). Saya sampai hampir yakin untuk jadi tibum ini harus diaudisi dulu lewat casting teriak, casting muka gahar, dan casting tahan ketawa.

17 Agustus-an tahun ini bisa dibilang 17-an yang paling gak berasa euforianya buat saya pribadi. Ada sih upacara bendera, tapi cenderung kurang tertib (tepatnya anak-anak FISIP), jadi saya gak tahu apa yang terjadi di depan (pengibaran bendera, dsb.), tiba-tiba udah selesai. Kampus saya juga gak didekorasi bendera merah-putih kecil-kecil atau diwarnai lomba panjat pinang. Yah, pokoknya gak berasa deh.

18-24 Agustus diisi OBM, yang isinya pengenalan cara dan metode belajar, yang lumayan seru, tergantung kelas yang diikuti. Tapi ada juga yang bosenin. Pernah satu hari saya diajar dosen kriminologi dan dia banyak cerita-cerita, mulai dari kehidupan napi sampai konflik internal kampus. Seru. Tapi minggu depannya dia sakit, dan penggantinya itu blaarrrgghh. Bosenin parah.

Lalu.... di luar tanggal-tanggal itu saya senggang? Sama sekali gak. Ada banyak agenda tidak tertulis di kalender akademik. Salah satunya, orientasi tingkat jurusan. Beserta tugas-tugasnya.
Bikin yel-yel, bikin name tag, bikin buku tugas, bikin buku tanda tangan.
Di samping tugas-tugas, satu per satu teman-teman saya yang kuliah di luar negeri sudah mulai berangkat, dan saya kerap kali gak bisa ikut perpisahan (baca: makan-makan) bareng teman-teman saya itu karena padatnya jadwal. Saya terpaksa harus menolak kalau diajak pergi jalan-jalan. Yah, dikiranya sombong kali saya. Padahal memang gak memungkinkan. Diberondong tugas-tugas dan terisolasi dari social life, saya pun sempat stress di satu titik.

*  *  *

Singkat cerita (gak ada singkat-singkatnya padahal), jadwal saya 3 minggu belakangan ini penuh. Rasanya saya pengin cepat-cepat skip saja rangkaian acara orientasi ini, biar cepat-cepat kuliah (euforia maba). Ada hikmahnya juga sih tapi.


Pertama, saya semacam shock gitu, kebiasaan menunda-nunda kerjaan dari SMA masih kebawa. Jadilah saya keteteran. Misalnya, buat tugas orientasi fakultas, kami dikasih tugas untuk bikin 6 esai. Seminggu sebelum hari-H saya ada hari kosong sekitar 2-4 hari, tapi saya baru kelabakannya di H-3. Dan semua essay itu harus ditulis tangan. Dan saya nulis lama banget, entah kenapa. Tulisan 2 halaman di MsWord saya salin dalam waktu 2 jam. Mikirin ide esainya sendiri bisa 2-3 jam. Akhirnya di hari H, saya melangkah ke ranjang jam setengah 7 pagi sambil mengutukki diri sendiri kenapa saya gak nyicil dari kemarin-marin saja. Sumpah, saya jadi kapok banget nunda-nunda kerjaan.


Kedua... Ini gak ada hubungannya sama hikmah ospek sih sebenarnya. Gini, SMA saya dulu (cie, dulu) tergolong sekolah yang kurang memfasilitasi murid-muridnya di bidang non-akademis. Menurut saya sih ya. Tapi beneran deh. Kehidupan organisasi macam OSIS gitu bisa dibilang cenderung pasif. Dan dukungan buat komunitas-komunitas, perlombaan, prestasi di bidang non-akademis itu memprihatinkan. Nah, selama ospek itu saya nemuin betul-betul banyak banget banget banget banget saluran berorganisasi, komunitas, dan kepanitiaan. Terus saya jadi rakus deh, mau ikut ini dan itu. Awalnya saya sempat ragu untuk ikut, takut mengganggu nilai saya nanti. Tapi kalau begitu mah jadi sama saja kayak pas SMA dong. Mumpung saya ngekost juga, jadi gak terlalu masalah kalau saya ikut kegiatan sampai malam. Sebenarnya saya daftar macam-macam sebelum mulai kuliah ini cenderung nekad sih, saya kan gak tau bakal jadi sesibuk apa nantinya. Mungkin (banget) jadwal saya bakal mepet, tapi semoga semuanya masih kepegang. Sekalian belajar manajemen waktu juga.


Mengutip kata-kata si pacar,
"Agak sayang kalau udah masuk situ (kampus saya) tapi gak mati-matian sampe nyaris mati."
Ekstrem. Tapi saya yakin kalian nangkep lah maksudnya.


Ketiga, untuk yang kesekian kalinya saya bersyukur bisa masuk kampus saya ini. Di samping proses seleksinya yang rada-rada gaib, kampus saya ini benar-benar menampung berbagai macam orang. Benar-benar berbagai macam. Maksud saya bukan sekedar etnis, suku, dan agama, tapi juga latar belakang, kisah hidup, pola pikir.... Aduh pokoknya benar-benar gado-gado deh. Ada beberapa orang yang bikin saya amazed sama kisah hidupnya, ada lagi orang yang bikin saya luar biasa minder dengan daftar prestasinya. Dan ini baru orang-orang yang saya temui selama ospek. Belum 4 tahun ke depan. Gila.


Well... selain karena faktor jaket kuning (Iya, ini ngaruh. Bohong banget kalau gak. Nanti saya bakal mamer, siap-siap aja muhahaha *digatak*), saya memang mati-matian pengin masuk sini karena saya pengin berada di lingkungan yang heterogen. Lagi, lagi, lingkungan sekolah saya dulu bisa dibilang homogen... banget malah. Namanya juga sekolah basis agama, kebanyakan seetnis pula. Ketemunya ya itu itu saja, kelas sosialnya ya begitu-begitu saja. Sedangkan pada kenyataannya nanti kalau saya terjun di masyarakat kan gak bisa begitu, gak bisa berharap ada di social circle serupa. Saya pikir, mana lagi tempat yang lebih tepat untuk ngerasain miniatur heterogenitas masyarakat kalau bukan di kampus yang menampung mahasiswa dari seluruh penjuru negeri? Jadi bisa dibilang dalam hal ini saya gak sampai tahap kesulitan beradaptasi yang signifikan, karena memang ini yang saya harapkan.


Kok... bahasa saya mulai gak nyantai gitu ya. Ya sudah. Intinya gitu aja sih.

 *  *  *

Sekian curhat saya. Postingan perdana setelah hampir sebulan. Lumayan buat pemanasan. Semoga habis ini saya bisa kebut nulis posting yang lain-lain lagi. Masak posting bulan ini cuma ini dan yang kemarin. Yah, kasian amat deh. Doakan saya ya, pembaca sekalian. *melambai ke kekosongan*

66 Years

Basi banget ya saya nulis ini di kala hari sudah berganti, orang-orang sudah mau tidur, euforianya sudah surut. Tapi ya biarlah. Lebih baik terlambat daripada tidak ada.


Semenjak pagi, sejak jam 12 malam lalu tepatnya, lini masa Twitter saya dipenuhi orang-orang yang ngucapin 'MERDEKA', 'Selamat ulang tahun, Indonesia!', bla bla bla dan sebagainya.


Jadi saya mau ikutan.


Selamat hari jadi ke-66, Indonesia.


Semoga makin dicintai rakyatmu, selalu dan senantiasa, bukannya musiman.
Semoga mereka yang mengucap berbangga jadi bagian darimu hari ini, bisa berkata demikian pula di ulang tahunmu yang berikutnya.
Semoga jumlah mereka tidak berkurang.
Semoga mereka yang mengaku cinta padamu tidak sekedar bermanis mulut saja.
Semoga mereka berani melakukan apa yang mereka cita-citakan untukmu,
Semoga mereka gigih mencetuskan perubahan.
Dan sampai saat itu tiba, semoga kamu mau bersabar,
bertahan, berdiri meskipun gemetar karena luka.
66 tahun kamu menanti.
Akan ada yang membawamu pada perbaikan.
Mungkin bukan kami, bukan di masa kami.
Apalagi tikus-tikus berjas yang mengaku pemerintah itu.
Mungkin bukan kami, tapi semoga semangat kami tidak mati.
Semoga kami tidak putus harapan.
Semoga semangat ini terwariskan, hingga nanti ada yang menyembuhkan luka-lukamu.
Dan sampai saat itu tiba, semoga kamu mampu bertahan,
meski sekarat karena dikhianati oleh kami.

Self-reflection: Hatred

To those who have been following me on Twitter, you may have known I have issue with certain contempt nights ago. With this particular local singer, to be exact.

I can hardly recall when exactly I started detest that public figure.
And in case you're asking the reasons why... I don't know what to say either.

Well, she is commonly considered as one of the most talented artist ever (in our nation), constantly praised due to her winning numerous awards, bla bla bla and such. But I somehow loathe her enormously talking of 'going international soon' bla bla bla when in fact, after some time of waiting, it has never been actually brought into realisation. I get the feeling that most of her so-called achievements was actually being blown up out of their portion. I get the feeling that her career built merely out of hype. I really could not understand why lots of people fail to see those aspects.
I ignore the fact that most of my thoughts could most probably be only preconceptions. And that night, my intense dislike was blown up by several tweets that seemed to ensuring my prejudices, that she actually bribed for collaborations, she was actually one least modest individual, bla bla bla.

The next morning I woke up, I reread my tweets and realised how superficial do they sound.
Uh-oh.

Despite the probability that my preconceptions are true, it is undeniable too that she did give noticeable efforts to get right there. Yet I insist on not considering them. It's human nature, I guess, to not merely cheer on people who achieve great things and start to seek their flaws. Or is it just me? Well, sorry for being that evil.
Though it is general that people tend to emphasize on the negative sides of other individuals and ignore (perhaps) huge proportion of the positive ones.

Like portrayed in the following scene:

'A long time ago, a splendid wedding ceremony was held.
The couple getting married were considered the village's top couple.
A gorgeous location was picked, a great many people attended.
Everything about the wedding was wonderful.


Apart from the bride slipping at the end and landing face-first into the cake.


.....


After that, every time someone talked about the wedding.
The guests would only remembered that single flaw.
The bride's fall was particularly terrible.
Even though everything up to that point had been perfect,
everyone forgot about those happy memories.'

- Akira E. Ferrari. ARIA, chapter 44: 'Prima Donna'

After been contemplating for moments I admitted that words written (or said) with intense anger and hatred are rarely, rarely leading to something.

Instead of assuring the people whose opinions are in contrary with ours, it usually will only shows immature side of yours, since comments made with hatred are hardly supplied with sufficient amount of subjectivity, aren't they? 

It will be wiser then to not show hatreds and reconsider it twice or perhaps thrice before stating them, I suppose.

*   *  *

Oh this does not necessarily mean that I change my inclination in a single night, that I turn from hater into fanatic. Nope.

I still--err not really that into her in general. Yet, instead of throwing abusive words and sarcasms due to my dislike, I'll try giving constructive criticism.
I'll try real hard.

Terrified

Have you ever

afraid that whole your life, you will end up neither doing something nor make significant deeds?

I have.

In fact, I do feel that way
Every single day

Hearing stories about geniuses who made achievements I can't even think of,
people who have successfully succeeded and been brilliant in their youth,
is motivating.
But yet also frightens me.

I do not see myself in the future as housewife who has nothing to do instead of taking care of households each day.
I have high standards.
I have dreams, I have hopes.
I have plans.
I even preached that I should have done something before 20, something I could be proud of
And to think that I have less than 3 years to go...
is rather depressing.
Why?
If my anxiety come true: that I had done nothing until the moment I passed my 20th birthday
I really am afraid
that all the plans I have planned won't go along as well
And I will die being nobody
...

It is 00.02 AM here. A day had just passed.
And if you ever wonder, why the hell I write this very unimportant writing
It is because I am terrified
that I will waste another day again doing nothing.

Prayer

On the note of being black, white, asian, caucasian, melanisian, african, et cetera...
On the note of racism issues.


"Tuhan, kenapa kau ciptakan kami berbeda?
Tapi tak kau buat kami cukup pintar untuk mengerti bahwa kami semua sama...?"

(say hi to) DAUL KIM

I was contemplating what to write tonight when I suddenly reminded of her. I then added her blog's link to my page.
The 'I LIKE TO FORK MYSELF' one...? Yes, that is hers.

You may (not) know her. She is Daul Kim, a South-Korean supermodel.
I initially found out about her while I was googling about any Asian supermodel, regarding my former obsession about being supermodel......... Hey. Please stop going all 'hmphhhh'.
Well, I was anxious about my height and thought they probably would make exception for Asian supermodels, considering that Asian tend to be shorter than Caucasian. Apparently not. Daul Kim herself reached at least 175 cm tall. Okay. Bye bye runway, bye bye Vogue.

At first I did not think of her as one of those gorgeous models. She looked pretty plain to me. But then I started to get interested in her. I might as well as praised her for not turning into overrated Korean-looks these days... you know, bright coloured T-shirts, plastic surgery, geo-lens, etc. She's being genuine, keeping her fierce figure and slinted eyes.

I googled more about her, found out that she had a blog, and falling for her in instance. Her thoughts were deeply intelligent. Her writings were distinguishable, honest, original, one of a kind.... She was sarcastically witty. Oh yes I strongly suggest you to stroll all over her posts! She's clearly one interesting individual.

I began to routinely check her latest post until one day, her blog was locked to public viewer.
I can't help myself wondering why. Then I found out she committed suicide on November 19th, 2009, hung herself in her apartment in Paris.

Dang.

I indeed did not know her personally, but I feel all sad and grief when I discovered that. You know... immersed in someones' writings might give you the impression that you are kinda know that person, kinda know their personality, etc. Looking thoroughly from what she had been writing, I absolutely can not say that she was one of those short-minded person (which description usually considered fit those who committed suicide)

She read books. And if we are going to make prejudices about someone, they are best corroborated by seeing what kind of literature they have been reading, no?

She read Tolstoy

In case you are not in the mood of clicking the video due to your irresistibly sluggish internet connection and such: Daul was telling that she was reading one of Tolstoy's novels titled Hadji Murad when one of her fellow models asked her what she has been reading.

'Tolstoy,' answered she.

'Ohh you're reading Toy Story!'

'No, Tolstoy.' She shook hear head.

'Oh, Toy Story. You said it Toy Sto-wy'

'It's Tolstoy.' She insisted.

'No, no. That's not how you say it. It's Toy Story.'

Daul then tried spelling it, 'T-o-l-s-t-o-i' (alternative spelling of Tolstoy)

The model responded, 'Who's Tolstoi?' And Daul was like errgghhhh. She hated how the model treated her like she had had bad pronunciation regarding the fact she was non-native English speaker. 

I found it funny yet ironic in the same time.

Well....

Someone who had been reading Tolstoy is indeed not all narrow-minded, isn't she?

Stereotypes let us consequently think that brainy usually does not go along with beauty, so it is understandable that I started to admire her as soon as I knew that she was not one of those kind of models, who were just pretty but pretty much empty-headed.

I do not know what would you think of her after seeing that very video, but to me she had quite bubbly and amiable personality, which made me even sadder.

For some time, I couldn't stop enquiring why on earth she would have ended her life in the first place. In general people's perspective, she had what most girls may dying to have for in life: being top model, etc. Not to mention she was likely on the top of her career just before her death, being one of Karl Lagerfeld's favourite. 

Oh, didn't I mention to you that she was a painter too? She ever held solo exhibition of her painting in Seoul.

May not be considered as well-accomplished in skill, perhaps, but it is art to me. And it is rather deep....

It's like, she's more than just meet the eye, hiding something behind her smiles, darkness beyond colours she had chosen to show. She seemed to be trapped in some kind of loneliness we can't even reach, circumstances we won't even understand. She constantly posted about being depressed and hurting herself, but then she added that she was kidding and just fine, and everyone thought she really was kidding. Until that really happened.

* * *

Her posting in April 2007 titled 'my idol' caught my eye. She wrote about female singer she used to idolize when she was 10. She then elaborate that singer's career, which seemed to deteriorate according to her, because she started to go rather commercial, lose her identity, and then forgotten. Daul then wished that the singer may just die before she released her 3rd album, before her going all famous, so that the singer may remain legend in her heart, remembered as how Daul used to remember her.

I could not really know what could be her urge on doing suicide, what was her last thought.

But if, just if, and I'm not trying to be mean here, only if.....

her reason was just because she wanted to be remembered THIS way, the way I describe Daul like THIS, before she's left forgotten and being nobody,

I think..... that is.... pretty much agreeable.

I love you Daul!

P.S.: You may be wondering why I constantly made reference to her blog despite it was being closed...? It is because her blog was opened again, in archive format! Enjoy reading glimpse of her :)

Merely Lucky

First of all, it is started from a single sentence:

I got accepted. In my dream university, University of Indonesia. Yeay.

The announcement was on June 29th, supposed to be on 7 pm. Yet, I can't help myself to keep refreshing the website, logging in numerous times, in hope the result came up before time scheduled. And it did. On 5 pm, it appeared.
Me. Got. Accepted.
I glanced at my mobile screen, and thought if it was some kind of joke. I started doubting if the link belongs to the official website, or if there was an error....

I sit calmly afterwards, waited until 7 pm to see if the result remain the same. And it still did!
I, who was filled with cynicism before, bewildered, and later the doubt turn into happiness and excitement.

But the euphoria won't last long. Hearing my fellows who did not make it through, the joy soon tainted by grief.

The more I listed the name of my friends who failed, the more I thought that this is just rather... irrational.

Some (or may I say, 'quite many'?) people tend to relate this to one's cleverness degree. Majority thinks that this is just as simple as answering questions as much as you could, getting marks as high as possible. Then those who did not get accepted are simply...what...not smart enough?

Wrong.

I happened to have the answer key (well, they have spread all over the internet, you can find it easily). I then matched my answer with my friend, and found that our marks are slightly different. I got approximately 55%, and she got 51%. Yet, I got accepted, and she did not.

I also participated in so-called quick count (yeah, like ones they do in general election) in a forum. There was a guy who scored way higher than I did. He was aiming for getting into Political Science department, which supposedly, supposedly, was rather easier to get into than Communication department. Yet, I got accepted, and he did not.

There is also another fellow whom I know she happened to attend BTA (some kind of course that helps students to learn the materials for university entrance test) and she eventually scored splendidly there, ranked 1st to 3rd among 300 students or so in each try-outs. Surely I was way below her.
And she did not get accepted. Bam. Mind-blown.
I was so going to pull my hair when I found out about that, for whateversake!

Then there is a friend whom I recently got acquainted with, put Psychology as her 1st choice, and Communication as 2nd choice. The entrance rate of Communication is lower than Psychology, hence her priority list is technically wrong, but since she prefer Psychology to Communication, then it is okay I guess.
What so curious is... the fact that she got accepted in Communication instead of Psychology.
You see, considering the entrance rate, when her marks are enough to enter Communication, supposedly, again, supposedly, it will be automatically enough to enter Psychology too. But the result did not say so. Logically failed.
Now, it is officially absurd.

 This is nothing like daily exam, which errors you can find and then you can beg the teacher to revise your marks. No. This... we could not really know our actual result, or our rivals'. We would not know if there was any 'X' factor put into consideration of our acceptance or rejection.

Hence, I could not help myself raising my eyebrows when I saw several postings in a forum I visited.
The author bragged so much about the superiority of public universities, especially ITB, UI, UGM, and despised those who entered private universities. He agreed that 3,5 GPA reached in private universities could be considered as an equal of 2,5 GPA reached in public universities. He described how low the quality of private  universities is (according to him). He cited that those who entered private universities simply retarded, etc etc. I do not have to elaborate any further, do I?
I do not understand how someone who 'so-called-genius' enough to enter public university could turn out to be all cocky and shallow.

I can not say there is not any jots of proud in me regarding my university entrance, but to be that conceited... I must have disgusted with myself.

Now, now, if you say that perhaps those who got accepted had worked harder than anyone who failed (so they may deserve to show some vanity), I am very sorry to say I have to object your very opinion.
I might be the person with the lowest effort among anyone I know, and please do note that I am not trying to be modest here... Really. I feel so undeserving compared to how hard my friends worked out for this.

If you say that perhaps those who got accepted had stronger fighting spirit compared to the rest, I must say that I have, most probably, worst competitive mentality ever. I tend to experience some kind of... mentality breakdown right before the D-day. I cried the night before the day of written test in National Science Olympic. Similar thing happened on the night of July 30th. Thanks to my bf who seems to always know the right words to console me.

If you say that perhaps those who got accepted had intenser will to get into their dream university, I... Nah, you would not say that, would you? We all know that all of the SNMPTN participants dying to be enrolled (A bit exaggerating, but more or less so. You get my point.)

The thing is... after elaborating this much I still am not certain why on earth I got accepted.
Guess I merely am lucky. And that motivates me not to spill this opportunity.

Sincerely hoping that it will do that to you too.





P. S. : To those who did not get accepted yet, you are definitely not plainly dumb. I really am wishing for the best regarding the result of your upcoming/past written test :)