24

So! 10th birthday post published by the end of November (at least, that's when this draft was written). Have just updated the blogger app & it's looking wonderful so I thought I'd write (usually I did my writing via my notes app or drafts of threads on twitter) anyways gotta stop talking in parentheses shall we

I remember my birthday being somewhat, ok not ok, I guess? That my acquired/forcibly inforced knowledge of what birthdays are supposed to be like manifested into myself always pondering always comparing always searching for what went wrong — I guess have ripped me off the ability to truly, without pretense, simply enjoy my existence being a year longer. I kept ticking on boxes, this and that, of things occuring on one's birthday that should bring happiness (it should be, for me, bring happiness, as a list less virgo is a listless one, but anyhow) I remember feeling... Quite lost. Mostly always during the previous years, but even more so this year. It's like, wow, thank you, I appreciate this, should this be your idea of what should make another person happy, but I'm not sure this is what happiness felt like. My own definition of it, that is.

The week of my birthday I happened to watch Ad Astra on such an, I would say, ideal watching condition: was joining a friend of mine on a whim and as a result got a separated seat, the seats next to me empty, was in a messed up state for the last several months & tired after a long day at work which requires me putting up a friendly normal working sane person profile. Not that it's always fake, but that's not the point. Don't you just love one of those occurings where everything just effortlessly clicked that it felt like a conspiracy? 

I hadn't cried that much in a theater for the longest time, just, pure feelings. 

(I admittedly cried manically all through 3 floors' worth of escalators by the end of avengers end game and during supper the same day would start tearing up by any mention of peter parker but! I stand with scorcese that this capitalism fed intricately designed to manipulate your feelings isn't really cinema!)

I don't even have that much daddy issues I think? But then again I'm an awful estimator of my general state of everything, so. It just felt very universal all the while personal. I guess that's what interstellar movies are all about. I loved it.

That being said, I'm not even close to my previous goal (that is to stop living in other people's head, assuming I still write my feelings this way), but I guess I've been avoiding developing a healthy way of seeing/perceiving/taking time to know other people & each their own social dynamics in (supposedly) favor of not getting myself hurt. I realize now that maybe, maybe it's the very thing that is ruining me.

Earlier this November I had this awful set of rashes on my wrist down to the middle of my arm that looked exactly like chicken pox, even though I already had one back in elementary school. It just happen so one morning, my arms feeling itchy, and turned liquid-filled-like and darkened by the next day. All I remember happening several days before was me waking up late one particular night from mosquito bites, a work related site visit the next day after, and the week before camping out in the outdoors. My mum decided it was probably some kind of virus, and with the right meds it receeded within the same week. Also on one of my birthdays in college, I was struck out of nowhere by this all encompassing gaussian blur on my left eye despite not having any minus or cylinder whatsoever. T'was also a virus, the same family/kind probably. I remember the doctor saying: "the main difference between a bacteria and a virus, is that bacteria works pretty sloppy that you'd feel yourself hurting even in the early stages; while viruses work a bit smarter that you wouldn't feel too much pain while your condition deteriorates even worse."

I guess this is my self inflicted virus. To not get myself hurt, to not feel, to render myself numb. To always feel too much, to feel always not quite right. To always seek extremes, to avoid them at all cost, to feel unexpected satisfaction from lukewarm relationships. 

Be present. Be. Breathe.

—

I'm steady, calm. I slept well, no bad dreams. I am active and engaged. I'm aware of my surroundings and those in my immediate sphere. I'm attentive. I am focused on the essentials, to the exclusion of all else. I'm unsure of the future but I'm not concerned. I will rely on those closest to me, and I will share their burdens, as they share mine. I will live and I will love.

23

Was about to write my ninth birthday post here on this blog when my mum notified me of an incoming package from gojek. Wasn't really expecting anything, but a literal box of flowers came, along with a scented candle and a jar of cookies. Friendly reminder that flowers are always always wonderful.

Birthdays always had a horrible effect on me, somehow. To put it simply, I had a certain idea of how birthdays should be like, and even after knowing certain things and adulting and the nature of people as we grow up and becoming adults and time and the banality of trivial ceremonies also known as birthdays or special dates or such, it's still quite hard for me to let go of those expectations. Even though they no longer apply to the person I am now.

For example, for the past two months I haven't been able to have a proper rest: weekdays are arriving home at approximately 8 p.m after a pretty draining busway ride, and weekends are spent fully outside with friends. I have a habit of having this social profile where I put on an exterior that seemed to numb my subconscious into enjoying things and making things seemed not so bad. Only when I came home, alone in my room, did the profile vaporizes, and I was able to breathe again, this time gasping out of breath. The metaphor is really that dramatic. It went as bad as even my physical body couldn't take it.

I guess part of me was scared of losing friends because I feel like the lesser I talk to people the harder it is to remain friends. Lately it's been really really hard to talk to people and I'm getting really really comfortable of being alone. The last time I remembered being truly happy, was at The Libertines' concert. My friend was super excited and kept gushing forward even though the crowd was mad violent, and I decided I'd just wait in the back. So I went away, bought a cup of chatime and sat on the grass under the stars, alone, starring at the stage from far away. That was a single moment of pure, perfect happiness. Moments later I realized Swim Deep was already playing in the other stage, and I arrived to this very chill and dancy crowd. Was so so fun. My friend joined not long after and it was nice too (because WTHAW was our soundtrack/survival pack back in highschool) but it was just a different type of nice. Anyway.

Regarding birthdays, I'm not a huge fan of ceremonies either (especially the being under the spotlight part), but I grow up brainwashed to always cherish these ceremonies, these milestones one has to go through in order to properly 'live'.

I do realize that the older you get the lesser these dates (are supposed to) mean. Anniversaries, birthdays, deaths, perhaps. They're just numbers. Humans are the only species to live by the idea of time and able to construe and give meaning to them, but in return are the only ones bound by it.

It's still quite a hard thing to do (even when you're twenty freaking three), shaking off one's supposedly 'core belief', but is something one ought to go through to. Mindfulness is such a great help to overcoming things, even if what I have now might not actually classify as such.

That being said, my only wish is to live lesser and lesser and lesser in the minds of others.

See you on the 10th post next year.

Selamat ulang tahun

Ndak terasa sudah mau lima kali (ralat, ternyata tujuh kali, wth) membuat postingan ulang tahun di blog ini. Lima tahun terasa begitu singkat tapi terlalu lama. Kalau dulu di umur 16 udah terlalu panik karena hanya setahun lagi dari mendapatkan ktp, sekarang 3 tahun setelah ktp yang masih belom electronic juga, rasanya masih kecil terus. Puny. Insignificant. Nggak bisa apa-apa, ndak ada gunanya.

Setelah membaca jutaan paragraf, potongan tulisan, novel dan puisi mengenai bagaimana cara menghidupi hidup sehidup mungkin, yang kurang lebih isinya adalah membagi segala perasaan yang ada kepada orang lain terutama yang positif, nihil. Yang ada, semakin jago diving ke palung self-doubt, terlalu banyak berpikir dan terlalu banyak menganalisa dan terlalu banyak merasa. Mau lari kemana? Mau minta tolong siapa? Yang ada malah merusak dan menenggelamkan lebih banyak orang. Ditambah lagi, muncul sebuah hobi baru: membuat diri merasa sepi.

Caranya? Cukup mudah. Pergi dengan orang-orang yang hanya memperhatikan diri sendiri, mengerjakan tugas di sebuah kafe yang ramai sembari melindungi diri dibalik layar laptop, memperhatikan orang lain, membaca novel Murakami, lagu 'Sparks' oleh Coldplay, menikmati konser musik; satu-satunya kebisingan yang mampu terasa sepi.
Berbicara kepada orang-orang yang telah menghapus kita dari kehidupannya.

That's what birthdays are for, isn't it? To remind yourself of how many people; mostly precious ones, you've drifted apart from.

"I still love the people I've loved, even if I crossed the street to avoid them." - Uma Thurman.

PROMOSIIN FUSO :D

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