Soundtrack of My (very messy) Life, Lately.

1. Definitely Maybe

So.

I’ve been away for quite some time right? And now that I’m back, supposedly I’d have something new to say, right? Something pleasant—for you who’ve been wishing for me to get ‘cured’—for me to share, right? Well, *in Lemony Snickett’s mode* I am sorry to say, that like always, all I got now is trouble, trouble and more trouble. Crap, crap and more crap. I’m saying this first so that if your life is already a living hell… well, let’s just say you may not want to add the burden.

Unless you’re a masochist.

Hells yeah, people. These past several months, through gritted teeth I’m gladly to say, I’ve been introduced to several new problems. That’d also mean several new dilemmas. Equals to several new hard-to-decide options. Why are they always coming to me, them troubles?? Why?!? It’s like I’m a freakin’ magnet to them crap!

I didn’t even know how it all started, all I know is now I’m tangled, between these… these choices, that I’m not suppose to think about just yet!! (I’m sorry I couldn’t be more specific since some people from the masquerade could’ve just barged in every now and then, and, y’know, figured things out)

But the point is, here I am, compeletely confused, pushed from every directions by every parties in a not-so-good way, to make a damn quick decision about something I had no idea about because it’s really something that I’m not suppose to think about just yet until I really had to!! And to make things worse, up to this very joyful day, they keep breathing down my neck. I mean, why are they so consumed by the culture anyway? It’s my life, my future that’s at stake here, yet they’re the one who were acting like their heads were on freakin’ fire! What’s that all about??

Ah hell, whatever. I just realize how suck it is to be adult. You get to hold the attachable burden commonly known as responsibility. (And soon enough, I forget how it feels to be young)

When you aged, people always expect something out of you. This had happened for ages, so it set the bars in social life. Some called these bars as culture. Some called it tradition whatever. And if you don’t follow them, you’re abnormal. You’re different. You’re wrong.

And from what I’ve learned over the past few years, diversity is the thing that our society could not accept the most. If you’re different, if you’re wrong, they’ll try as hard as they could, by whatever means possible, to fixed you right away. They’ll change you (even if it’s against your will), and make you adapt a little faster than you normally would, so that you wouldn’t be any much different than the rest of them. So they don’t have to worry about anything else after.

Or so they thought.

Well, their filthy claws are nowhere near my skin, and I’ll make sure they’ll never get any closer. To them people who keep breathing down my neck:

‘Ladies and gents, for this time being, all I can say is just hold still and wait. The time will come for me to decide, and until that time I’m keeping my options open. I’m taking my time and chances, and I’m trying my luck on whatever it is I wanted. And there’s nothing you can do to change that. So you could either stress yourself out on something you know you couldn’t rush (which is completely stupid and such a waste of time if you ask me), OR! You could stay away and give me space.

Choose wisely.’ >=]


Oh and, to one unfortunate party unintentionally involved: ‘I say it’s a definitely maybe.’ ;P




Say it now, cause in your heart it’s loud
‘Oh no, my feelings are more important than yours
Drop dead, I don’t care, I won’t worry’
Sweetheart, your feelings are more important of course…

(‘Razorblade’ The Strokes)



2. Where Does The Good Go? (Oh, the Anger!)

Song: ‘Idlewild Blue’ Andre3000


You know… I just learned only recently, that there’re some times, some moment, when you wish you’re ignored. Before now, I don’t believe such moment exists, because who’d want to be neglected? So I thought. But apparently, in my case at least, such moment does exist.

Two weeks ago, I was so in rage. I was depressed at work, I was depressed at home, and my life was a complete mess. I was a true vengeance I could’ve choked a friend had he rubbed me wrong. I was that angry.

And somehow, when my life is so f*ckin’ messed up it could use some help from Dalai Lama, somehow, people tend to get nosier. And unlucky for me, I always have to meet one of these nosy people everyday. (I don’t care if you read this you dimwit know-it-all! BRING IT ON!)

Here’s how the mad circle goes:

They want to know. They demand explanation. If they don’t get your answer, they’ll argue. Then they’ll demand more explanation. Knowing that you respond, they thought you like the arguing game, without knowing that all you want to do is shot them right in the head. Then without you asking, they’ll give you their opinions, which if you disagree, they’ll insist until they die. And if you do agree, they’ll give you more opinions until they die. And so on and so forth.

Have I mentioned that I always have to meet one of them nosy people every single day? Talking about being unfortunate... it often happens, y’know. If I got stuck into that mad circle, most of the time, the line ‘look man, can I just get a gun and shot your mouth and just get this over with? My day is awful enough without you interfering.’ is ready to make their way out of my mouth. But of course, my old soul always keeps me from really saying it, hence the buried rage.

Two weeks ago, the mounting rage exploded. I was in a very sloppy mood, and this nosy person start questioning me. That was obviously a very wrong thing to do, because the rage had reached its peak and I was nowhere near stopping it from spitting their way out. It’s about time.

‘It’s none of your business damn it! Not everything in my life needs your opinion! I don’t have to explain anything to you! Reality check honey, you’re not the only one with ego here! Why do you always want to know anyway? Because in case you didn’t realize, it has nothing to do with you! I don’t know how it is usually with you and the people around you, maybe you always win, maybe you’re always right, but that’s not how it works with me. With me, you don’t always win. With me, you’re not always right. Deal with it!’


Well… the nosy people (finally) got them lesson.

To the nosy person: ‘Sorry you have to learn it the hard way.’




I don’t think I’ll ever be sorry
No I’m not sorry for the thing I’ve done
And I don’t think I’ll ever wake up lonely
‘Cause having you around wasn’t all that special

(‘I’m a Terrible Person’ Rooney)




3. Walk With Me, Oryx.

I need a teacher so bad, so talk to me.

Tell me Oryx, should I kill you? Or should I just put you in freeze for a month or two? Because lately, I’m so fed up with my work. The requirements, the stress, the targets, the burden and all that crap… I had enough.

2 years ago, the thing that always supported me, the thing that always gave me a little bit of hope every single morning, was a single line from a single TV drama. It was Grey’s Anatomy 1st episode. In the end of their 1st 24-hours shift, George asked Meredith vaguely, ‘We’re going to survive this right?’ --> this line alone, along with the discussion I had with my friends who were also in the same sinking ship, always gave me strength to make it through the day.

Now that 2 years have passed, that line alone could no longer help. As I’ve mentioned before in my earlier postings, I was so devastated. I was a walking cadaver because of the stress, and I even wished for my own death every single morning. How sick is that??

Teach me how to breathe, teach me how to live. Be my teacher. Stay with me.

I don’t know if this is the clarity I’ve been waiting for or not, but lately, the thing that makes me get up fast in the morning is this: ‘I want to get out of here. I had enough. I hate this place where I’m working. I want to get out so bad I have to study hard. I want to get out of here as fast as I could!’ --> ain’t that a kick in the head??? I mean, lately I really want to study, and it’s not because I’m about to have an exam or something! I really want to know what the hell is going on, and I’m talking microbiology crap here!

And then suddenly, all this good-girl stuff that I used to carry when I was in elementary school started popping up in my head every now and then. All of a sudden, I have this… this plan ahead of me, a plan for me to get healthy, for me to get better, and all that jazz. ‘Get up and go!’ so the little girl’s voice will echo in the back of my head.

I want to do this. I want to study, finish whatever it is that needs to be finished, and just get out of this place! I want to follow the plan. But I got the feeling that if I want to do the plan right, I have to put my alter ego aside... and this is where the name Oryx comes into the picture.

Hold my hand and run with me. Cry with me. Laugh with me. Smile and breathe with me.

Don’t die.

Not without me

*sigh* I don’t know what I’m doing, but this time I need your help. So what do you say, Oryx?



This whole damn world can fall apart
You'll be ok follow your heart
You're in harms way I'm right behind
Now say you're mine
You've got the music in you

(‘You Get What You Give’ New Radicals)



4. The Closure

Song: ‘Natural’s Not In It’ Gang of Four

Okay, here’s where I end my ramblings so you could all praise the Lord now.

I’m gonna talk about real-life movie soundtrack now. It’s a cheesy material so it shouldn’t take long. You know what soundtrack I’ve been dying to get? It’s Sofia Coppola’s Marie Antoinette’s soundtrack! (I love Sofia Coppola) I’ve checked it on Amazon.com, and this song I’m listening to right now is one of my favorite songs in the album. Disc 1 would be my favorite since the tracks are much cooler than those in Disc 2.

Only, there’s something that’s bugging me… the scene when Marie Antoinette was having it with her love-affair (who was it, Fergen?), wasn’t it The Strokes’ ‘Red Light’ as the background song? How come it’s not included in the album?

Well… if it wasn’t ‘Red Light’, then it sure sounds like it. (I love The Strokes’ ‘Red Light’)

Right, I better wrap things up.

How come suddenly I’m in the mood for some oldies? Ah well…

Jazz me out of here, Sir Armstrong!



Hold me close and hold me fast
The magic spell you cast
This is la vie en rose
And when you speak, angels sing from above
Everyday words seem, to turn into love songs

Give your heart and soul to me
And life will always be
La vie en rooooohse… … …

(‘La Vie en Rose’ Louis Armstrong)

One Last Dance With You, Before I Die.

Sunday, August 6th 2006, 10 pm.
Song: ‘Sugar, We’re Going Down’ – by: Fall Out Boy

Am I more than you bargained for yet?
I’ve been dying to tell you anything you want to hear
That’s just who I am this week..



Hey y’all, what’s bangin’?

Yeah, yeah, I know, I’ve been away for a while… I create the idea. Where have I been, you ask? I was visiting an old friend’s graveyard. It’s the old friend that I’ve been with for many years, and guess how he died? I killed him. Shot him right in the head with a few back-stabbing and all that (sorry dude, sh*t happens)… it was so much fun. All the things you won’t care and you don’t want to know. Hell, you wouldn’t even know if I lie…

Or not.

Anyway, the first thing to mention here today is that I am so stupid. Here’s how it all started: One day I went to this bookshop. As usual, I looked around at the literature shelves and I found this new thick novel by my favorite author. The story is great and quite provocative but the cover sucks, and my money worth more than just a great story. The cover sucks big time so I didn’t buy it. I continued perusing around AND my eyes stuck on this small, thin little white book. Sometimes big thing came in a small package, right? Well here’s what I’ve learned: if you’re not ready for the big thing, don’t even bother to try your luck. I’m telling you, if you’re an avid reader but your scale is, say, Rowling or Albom (not meaning to degrade you guys. You’re both outstanding writers, but in the end of this paragraph you’ll know who had beaten you up and you’ll agree with me) , or on higher note Atwood or Plath, and then one day you wake up and decided that you want to step up a little by reading Nietzche… let’s just say you might want to reconsider.

Yes, I bought that small, thin little white book by Friedrich Nietzche called ‘Why I Am So Wise’. And after I read what Nietzche had to say, I felt like I’m the stupidest creature on the planet. Back then when people say he’s a genius, I really didn’t believe them. I couldn’t blame myself, I’m hard to impress. BUT after I read that book… they were right, Nietzche is a tad genius! A Brilliant author, really. I need about 10-15 minutes just to understand a page of his book. Every words matter. Every phrase has important meaning. Every line was wisdom wrapped in intelligence. If there’s anything that makes me likes him first, it’ll be the fact that even the foreword of his book blows me away! What kind of insanity could a book held when even the foreword could put its reader to such amazement??! Moreover, Nietzche denied what I believed in. Yes, he denied everything that I thought was true.

On my previous posts I’ve mentioned over and over again how I needed a teacher right? I felt so lost that I wanted a teacher so bad. Someone I could look up to, someone to give me the answer I’ve been dying to get. Well, here’s what Nietzche had to say to his pupils that respect him so dearly:

‘The man of knowledge must be able not only to love his enemies but also to hate his friends. One repays a teacher badly if one remains only a pupil. And why, then, should you not pluck at my laurels? You respect me, but how if one day your respect should tumble? Take care that a falling statue does not strike you dead. You had not yet sought yourselves when you found me. Thus do all believers, therefore all belief is of so little account. Now I bid you lose me and find yourselves, and only when you have all denied me will I return to you.’

*shook her head*

His brain is damaged for sure… that notion could last till the next millennium! And that’s just the foreword, ladies and gents.

Oh yeah, I forget to salute some of my (possibly) new visitors! The famous Tjahaja Tjhicks! (^o^)/ One of them you’ve known, Nunu, and the other two, Chiwi and Muti. *Oryx mode off* --> Hai, Haiii…finally you read my blog jugaaa! Btw nu, seharusnya sekarang gw nyiapin bwt DTM drg. Yuli bow buat besok… tapi what can I do apa daya? Tiba-tiba aja pengen yang gelap2… (alah, apaan coba?) Huehehew… moga2 besok lancar, amiiiin! Chiwi, Muti! SD baru pegimane ceritanya bu? Yang terselubung deket pu’un2 udah gw datengin bareng Chiwi, tapi pagi semua… ndak ada yang petang. Gimana dung?

*Oryx mode on*

Oh yeah, there’s a sequence of events, starting with the discussion I had with Tjahaja girls, that made me… I dunno, think more lately. About everything, y’know… me, my life, what I want to do, what I don’t want to do, who I am, who I could be, how things are, how things should be, my future and all that jazz. And I’ve got to tell you, I’m scared of my future. It’s blurry… I can’t see how I’m gonna be good at what I do. Lately I just don’t feel like it’s my field. I don’t belong there. Every morning is painful, and I hate it when Sunday’s over. I’m not excited and passionate at what I do. It’s just another task, another job, another home work for me to finish. No enjoyment, no dedication, and even no interest. How severe is that? It’s wrong, I know it’s wrong. Maybe you think ‘So you hate Monday, so you hate work. Well, so does everybody!’ But I only live once, don’t I? Can’t I have it perfect, the life I have? Just like those Souljah people. I wonder if they’re happy now… Can’t I have it my way?

Everything starts from here. This, education and work, is my basis. Since I was little, my perfect grade is my value. Everyone sees me through that… my parents, my grandparents, my aunts, my uncles, my cousins, my neighbors, my parents’ friends. And now that I have these doubts, I wonder if they’re still gonna love me if, say, I quit doing what I do—which is what they’re proud of the most out of me. If I quit, if I do something else that they won’t approve but I’ll really enjoy doing, will they still accept me? Because acceptance is what we I need. This, I know for sure. Ignorance could kill, and so we need acceptance. Everything that we do, every descent job existed on earth, their main goal is so that we can be accepted… by the society, by the culture and its people, by a group of superficial hypocrites, it doesn’t matter by who, we just want to be accepted.

This job I’m doing? I do it--and my parents want me to do it-- because it gives you a lot of money. You’ll be rich. Being rich means being easily accepted by various society genres. You get to choose, that’s the power these money will give you. That’s why parents told their children to do this kind of job, to guarantee their future. Good deed indeed, but is it wise though, to tell the kid what to do and not really listen to what the kid might want to say?

My issue here is that what I’ve written above is the thing that I believe in. I could be wrong.

I want to be accepted, but I also want to enjoy life. But if I switched to another job that I’d enjoy, I won’t be accepted. Plus, me doing that equals to me destroying my own base (good education, good grades, all that academic stuff)! And I’m a spoiled brat, how do I know I could handle that alone? My parents surely won’t support my crazy ideas.

*sigh*

What a mad circle, eh? Life could be so bitter… The reason I came up to this, the whole future life issue, is the discussion I had with Tjahaja chicks. It wasn’t really a discussion either actually, more of a gossip… something we do really well that I believe it’s actually in our genes! ;P It’s about earthquake and the signs that indicates the earthquake. It was said that if you see a cloud in a shape of vertical white thin line in the sky, that means the city under that cloud will be having an earthquake. There’s no explainable theory about this, as to what’s the relation between the vertical line-shaped cloud and the earthquake, but statistically, 7 out of 10 cities that were suffering earthquake had this signal on their skies before the earthquake happened! And lately, this weird-shaped cloud was noticed above Jakarta! Hence the rumor that there’ll be an earthquake in Jakarta anytime soon!

And a few days ago, concerning this so-called gossip, my mother went to me and said how I should do Shalat right on time. Because earthquake is coming soon, and we could be dead, and you want to be ready for what’s coming after. And so I thought about death. And so I thought about making my life meaningful before I die. And there goes the connection to the whole future thing that I’ve mentioned above… because really, I don’t think what I do now is meaningful enough to me. I do not enjoy it, how can it be meaningful?

Then I came up with this new question: So I could be dead anytime soon, right? Then, what is the one thing that I really, really want to do before I die (so there’ll be no regret afterwards)? What will be my last dance on earth? I was thinking of traveling, y’know, go out, see the world and escape the boring routines… but then what? Is it really worth your last minutes on earth, traveling? Yes, you get more perspectives of the continents and cultures around the globe, but it’s for your own personal advantages. You couldn’t share it with people ‘coz you don’t have the time you need (because the idea is you'd die after the trip, since--in this case--it's the last thing you do before you die), so what’s the use of that? Ralph Waldo Emerson said ‘you could climb the highest mountain, but if there’s no one beside you to share the view with, then it’s pointless.’ And I agree with him.

Then I think about Morrie’s perfect day. That one perfect day when you gather around with the people you love and do the things you love to do… I like this idea. Togetherness and warmth never failed me, so I thought, ‘Wow, this is what I want to have… one perfect day. This is my last dance on earth.’

As to how I’m gonna start this Dance, I really don’t know. It’s hard to decide who you want to spend your last day with. Your parents? Your lover? Your friends? Or all of them? But here’s the dilemma: if you gather all of them, there’ll be too much distraction. Your love for each one of them is different. Won’t it get divided? Won’t that puzzle you?

My last dance has to be perfect. It must be able to break down all the differences’ wall between generations and genres. When you’re able to sit next to your 60 years old grandma and your 5 years old cousin and having the time of your life, when you’re able to sit next to the pretty-boy-cousin-who-thinks-of-nothing-but-pretty-girls and to your education-goes-first father and the three of you are having so much fun together, that’s when my last dance begins.

But how am I supposed to make that happen? Ah well… I guess (and I hope) I’ll figure things out before the Lebaran day. I caused the chaos, so maybe I’m the only one who could fix them up.

Anyway, that Lazy-Hazy-Crazy Days of Summer bit has been bugging me since this morning. It keeps ringing on my ears like some annoying mosquito! I can’t get it out of my head!!

‘Ooooh iiiit’s aaaa…Lazy, hazy, crazy days of suuuuuhmmmeeeer…’

AAAAAAAARRRGH!!!!! Stop it!!!! I’m gonna die!!!! You know what I really want to hear? This old audiophile called ‘Misty’. It’s a great jazzy tune, very classic, very timeless… another swingin’ old sound that I need to collect.

Alright then, adjourn for now.

Oh and, p.s. I have my eyes on Arthur Schopenhauer’s ‘On the Suffering of the World’ lately. I mean, what can hurt after Nietzche? So no, it’s not Chuck Palahniuk’s ‘Haunted’, but it’s Arthur Schopenhauer’s ‘On the Suffering of the World’. He got a smart, hard-to-spell name, his book was on the same shelf with Nietzche’s, and the title he chose for his book kind of indicating that he was quite depressed when he wrote it. That’s enough reason to buy his book, right? From what I know, depressed people tend to create big thing…

For a more sensible reason, the line Arthur chose to describe his book, the one that is written on the cover, is a gem. And it goes like this:

‘A quick test of the assertion that enjoyment outweighs pain in this world, or that they are at any rate balanced, would be to compare the feelings of an animal engaged in eating another with those of the animal being eaten.’

Watch out all politicians, once this book got read by many people, you really need to create plan Bs.

Adios!

Blogger Paper and The Quotes.

Song: 'Remembering You' -- by: Steve Curtis Chapman (One helluva good song Stevie!)



Ah Hell... what the HELL is with used-to-be-really-rockin' bands lately??


Okay, so this really angry notion of mine was all started with me buying the latest CD of The Strokes, First Impression of Earth. I mean c'mon, it's The Strokes, the only rockin' band whose lead vocalist even know who the hell Rumi is (and even got inspired by him). From years of experience, I always knew I'll like their music, their songs... y'know, whatever sh*t they've recorded. I always, always do. And before their latest CD got released, I knew that their latest single 'Juicebox' has leaked and it was everywhere on the net... BUT I didn't download it 'cuz it was in that stupid OGG format. I don't even know what the hell does that mean.



The CD's first single--the one that got leaked-- is called Juicebox. When I first listened to it, I went 'What the hell--?? What is this??! They sounded like a lousy, hardcore version of Rooney now with all those digital, computerized (whatever you call it) sounds!!!' and I was soooo disappointed. And comments similar to above were spitting their way out through the next tracks! The only Stroke-ish song that humanized me that time was the last track, Red Light, because it sounded right for The Strokes CD. AAAAGH...!!! I was so pissed off!! What is with you, Jules??


So I decided to stick with Franz Ferdinand instead now... at least they're true to their genre. And also with Steve Curtis Chapman of course, Irish sounds just never fail me. (Haste to the Wedding, Old Hag... what a gift to the gifted ears.) You know another songs that I'll always, always like? Aerosmith's Jaded. I like the video too... especially the part when the mirror asked the girl what she wanted, and the girl wrote 'To Feel' on the mirror. When I first saw that scene, suddenly I felt liberated. I'm not alone. Whoever made that damn video had ever been in my shoes. (Jadi inget Serendipity...)


There are many, many times when I feel like jumping out of my body and just run free and scream on the top of my lungs, as free as I can be. So many, because really, I'm so confused of myself. Like lately, I have this really drastic emotional changes. I got annoyed by little things, and if the continuity persisted I could've exploded inside while cursing every single innocent being that passes my way. And the cursing just gets better and better each day.


'Hi, pighead! I want you die.' , 'Move over you stupid w****!!!', 'Oh how nice... just keep badmouthing until you die. You're good at it.' , 'Another pathetic being that's not helping...', 'Oh, hello two-faced maggot! I thought you've been killed.' , and it's getting more and more sadistic. (as in how this maggot die. Y'know, got hit by a truck, burried alive... my favorite one will be decapitated by something blunt.)


(yah, gini nih kalo kebanyakan baca Sunako... hehehe. NUNU! Hayo tanggung jawab!! I got addcited bow... :P )


Tapi udah gitu, if the problems passed away, gue jadi Euphoria gitu. I got this weird, manic thing in my every movement. I jumped in joy a little, I smiled gleefully, I laughed normally --and loudly-- with my friends.... GOOD GOD WHAT IS WRONG WITH MEEEE???!!!
Oh yeah. Manic- Depressive disorder. I should've known. (AAAAAAGH....!!!! Makhluk macam apa aku ini??? Bahkan bergaul dengan para Euphorian dari ketawa-ketiwi city pun aku bisa depresi!!!)


Oh, and one other thing, if I were at campus and hangin' out with my friends... I'm normal. (Or at least I look normal) But if I'm home, especially when I'm alone in my room... it's another me that's coming out, y'know. The girl that is so angry, so depressed, so tired that all she can do is lie down silently on her bed. Even if some tears were falling down, it'd make no difference for her. She felt nothing, just numbness. No energy, no will to live or to move on. Just tired. Very, very tired. And she was alone.



Weird ain't it? I'm powerful in what I'm thinking, yet I'm also very, very fragile. (OH NO!!! Udah manic-depressive, double personality pula, udah gitu suspect adanya gejala OCD --Obsesive-Compulsive Disorder--, kalo panik suka hiperbola, maag sering kumat, alergi ini-itu, sering vertigo, pingsan dan kram.... AAAAAAAGHHHHH!!!!!! MAKHLUK MACAM APA AKU INIII????!!) Tak lucu kalo ada tambahan penyakit lagi.... duh, pinggang kok jadi gatel2 ya?


AAAAAAAAAGGGGH....!!!! TIDAAAAAAAKKKKKK....!!!!!


Sebenernya gue juga ga ngerti (lha, kok jadi in Indonesian??), what is it that I feel tired of? Campus work? Personal live at home? Personal live at campus? My precious thoughts? My never-ending-and-keep-evolving-instead questions about the world and its so-called owners? The people around me? The people that is not around me? What is it? I do not know. I don't even know if the thing that I'm holding onto as my guide is really the right thing to rely on. I don't have enough strength, Morrie. I worry a lot about everything. I have a big, big dreams, Sylvia... but what's the value of that today? (Oh btw, I've been long suspecting that the main character of Bell Jar is actually you, Sylvia. Am I right? And why did you comit suicide anyway?)


What to do then?


What to do?



"The culture we have does not make people feel good about themselves. And you have to be strong enough to say if the culture doesn't work, don't buy it." -- Morrie.

"What I fear most, I think, is the death of Imagination. If I sit and don't do anything, the world goes on beating like a slack drum, without meaning. We must be moving, working, making dreams to run toward; the poverty of life without dreams is too horrible to imagine" -- Sylvia Plath.

Life's A Bitch,

...it made me die.


(Oh yeah. A fine song by Shooter--which reminds me of Depp's movie Secret Window, really--that had helped me survive yet another sick, suicidal day (In the morning, it's no longer 'I wanna die', but it's 'Life's a bitch' now. What a progress, eh?). The other is the one that goes 'God damn right, it's a beautiful day, u-huh' song (what's better that sarcasm?), and lately, Eminem's Mockingbird.)


(What? it sounds pretty evoking... the man's gonna choke the damn bird if it doesn't sing for his daughter. I mean... *in a mocking tone* ...It's loooohve.)


Well, sympathy sells, just like sex does. Looking at those mushrooming reality show, it should've been obvious that it's very easy to make something go large in this cursed country. Just make it a trend, and it'll grow big. Reality show, local movies, local books (Chicklits, teenlits... By God. The truth is often bitter).. those are the real-happening examples, kids. I'm not talking about the quality here, but as to the quantity... my, my, aren't they mounting? People are racing to chase whatever it is they think is worth enough to be chased. Fame? Money? God knows.

My point being, our society LOVES trends. And the industry knows how to use this fact to make their tummy grows even larger with greed. AND, our society blankly agreed to be extorted, by consuming those rubbish the industry produced without thinking about its quality! (Whoever read chicklits, watch the chicklits that are made into movies, and buy its soundtracks... well, it's not your fault that you don't know if you're being brainwashed) Seeing this fact, could you now blame me for repeatedly saying that our society is completely stupid?


Now you're getting somewhere.


SO!


I've been reading my old materials... and my o my, weren't I a very angry young lady? *chuckled* How young heart run free...yeah, those were the days when I shouted to everyone, 'Don't try to fix me, you idiot, I'm not broken!' , before I finally knew better. I still am angry, don't get it wrong, but I've handled it better. Adrenaline's good if you know how to use it. :)


Jeffrey Eugenides (what a rhyme to sianide...) said in his book, that a child is actually just a stranger you agree to live with. Stunning how this line caught my eyes, considering what happened to me lately.


It's amazing and it's weird. I eventually learned something about the people around me, and this time, among all odds, it's my mother. It's mom. The very person I've seen everyday my whole life is the very person about whom I learned a lot lately.

See, yesterday I got up, and I suddenly realized how much a stranger she is. And how much a stranger she always have been. It's just so wrong... she's my mother, so she's suppose to be my save hospital, a save place for me to go whenever I got hurt. But she's not, and that's just wrong.

I won't blame her, every human could make mistake. So she's not exactly Lorelai, I really shouldn't blame her. So she's not really trying to reach out, I... well, I guess there's time when she really planned it... but y'know, things happen.

I don't know. It weirds me out to figure things out and independently learn about mom. I thought I knew her. Like hell I don't... just like she doesn't know me. And again, this is just so damn wrong.

I learned that, okay, so maybe mom is more like Emily than Lorelai. So mom is kind of open to certain logical, world-ish kind of issue, but she's not exactly easy with the opening. She doesn't reach out, so I'm the one who should. Instead of waiting for her to come and hug me and ask 'are you okay?', it's me who should come to her room, sit in front of her, hold her hands and say, 'Mom, I'm not happy. What should I do?'

God, even writing this makes me close to tears. If there's anything I should avoid now, it'll be Corrine May's song Fly Away.

There's a lot of emotions and hidden part of me and my conscious that I haven't related to and understood yet. I really have to dig deep into myself. I think I'm very blessed to understand all this. While waiting for my teacher to come, I learned new things by myself everyday now... things that really matters. My life finally begin to be meaningful, and I hope it doesn't stop here. This time I won't rush. I know I still got plenty of time ahead (lucky me to realize all this before my hair turns white!)... so, I'm taking my time.


I love my mother. I'd get really angry at her and put out all the cursings possible and made myself an enormous sin to deal with...but in the end, I'll always know that I love my mother. And that in a way that I could not understand, she loves me too. And I really thank God for that.

My Old Professor.

Hai Haii.... I'm back! (In a rather cheesy way, but what the heck.)

Seneng deh ada yang comment 4 orang, tapi setelah gue buka, ternyata....!!! Yang beneran reply cuma GoodyBack doang... yang laennya iklan. I dunno about the Blah Brain though... (Hi there Blah Brain! Oh ignore those perverts. There's no such thing as the next Harry Potter book being passed around the net. Have you no idea that Jo has hired cave trolls to guard her room? GoF movie is awesome by the way.)

Yeah, where was I? Ah yes.... Gooody! Memang hanya dirimu yang peduli dengan diriku dan blog-ku yang acakadul ini... Makhluk mistik pun nampaknya sudah tak minat dengan acara blog2an... He iya, masa waktu itu Nunu pernah cerita kalo dia punya kebiasaan memamah biak... jadi kalo abis makan trus nonton tv, tau2 makanan yang udah di lambung naik lagi ke mulutnya dan masih berupa nasi......!!!!! Saluran pencernaan yang aneh.... (Udah gitu dia memberitahukan aib ini kepadaku saat gue lagi makan pula! Dasar...)


*Turning on 'Wild Horses' by Alicia Keys and Adam Levine*


Ah... the mood has changed. Oryx's skin is creepin' out of me, and she took me back to 4 days ago.

So here I am, bored to death and being kind of suicidal (grannies' grave, Tuesdays With Morrie, Virgin Suicide... go figure.), and I stumbled myself rather intentionally over a CD store, and spoiled myself with Alicia Key's Unplugged CD. The songs are so raw, and that's why I like it. My personal favorite would be 'Wild Horses'... there's something awakening about this song. It awakens me in a way I could not describe. At first I thought it was really boring... (and Adam's voice couldn't be more gay-ish), but then... 2nd listen and fell in love with this song. Completely.
'Wild Horses'... how we are so alike to some people who knows.

I always adore awakening songs like this. Like I've said sooo many times before, I never am a complete being (yet I'm too much to handle for some people who doens't evolve)... and reading Morrie, (F**k, Mitch, you lucky bastard.) I need and I WANT a teacher so bad. I need my old professor to answer all these mad questions inside my head. Someone who's stupid enough to choose teaching as a career in 21st century, but someone who's smart enough to be able to affect eternity (because, really, can you tell where a teacher's influence stops?).

But where can I find my old professor?


Nobody I know seems wise enough. They grew up in a culture that values nothing but materials. They teach me nothing but 2: things I don't need and things that I already know. Stupid society. How am I suppose to survive, Morrie? Honestly, I cannot handle this alone. Sometimes I wonder if I've walked too far from where I should be... because how come not many people my age could connect with me when I speak this or that? It's been going on so long --since I was in highschool perhaps -- that I've lost my trust on people. People in any kind of age. I no longer imitate like most adolesence do, because adults are stupid, most of them.

They could not give me answers. When I asked, what they did was trying to read my mind and figure out whether I'm still psychologically healthy or not. It worries them that I'm different, and they're trying to direct me into someone that I'm not, and it pissed me off really. I am what I am and I can't see what the hell is so wrong with being completely incomplete? It disgusted me to realize that I want what I've been taught to want. By God, I've been an ugly puppet parody of myself for so many years!


One could choose the pretty fairytale land and be a big fake liar forever if they wish, but I don't want that. I don't blame them for being so shallow... the world is big, the money held power to control people, and they are just human. I won't deny that, yet I want more. Why can't people see that there's more than what they held very dear?

Really, Morrie, have I gone too far? If I have, then how come you could keep up? If people are so inspired by you, Morrie, that means deep in each and one of them, they too are longing to be free, don't you think? They too want to see life the way you did. So serene and peaceful... nothing in the world could take that away from you. Even when you died, you lived.

Only a few pages of your story, only a few lines from you, Morrie, and I've learned a lot already. In some chpaters, I've been where you've been even when I'm still in my early 20s. I understand exactly what you're saying about tension... I called it two way monologue but they're the same thing. But as I read on... Goodness, Morrie, how I want you to be my teacher. How could you possibly know so much? It seems like you have all the answers.

The song 'The Very Thought of You' will never sound the same again to me now, Morrie.


*Sigh*

Oh yeah, I was that close to losing my sanity, people. Every single hour, every little piece of me dies inside. Believe it or not, GoodyBack, I've written this on a piece of paper:

Dear GoodyBack,

What do you do when you're no longer entertained by all means existed on earth? When you go completely numb? When nothing's fun anymore?

Oryx

Ps. Don't get fooled by normal smile, and write it down please, for verbal lines work not for me.

...in a red ink as well. I was desperate for help since my suicidal tendency had reached its peak. Seriously.

But somehow... here I am. Morrie had taught me how life worth everything, if you know how to rub it the right way. (There. Another sick soul saved by Morrie.) Well... I'm not that smart yet to know all the answers, but one day I will be. I would've been dying by then, but at that time I will know better that being late doesn't matter anymore. Being hurt won't kill anymore. And that it's okay to be the imperfect being that I really am.


Until that day, I'll just have to be alive and find myself a good teacher.



(To Morrie Schwartz and Mitch Albom, thank you for everything.)

My Old Soul.

Thy shall cherish life...


There's so many things to write. So many, that I don't know where to begin... so I'll just start it the way every other cheap tale does.

Once upon a time, a Scrubs-o-holic, a severe narcissist, a hopeless dreamer, and a fake perfectionist met in the park, and they decided to create a human being namely me. (Yeah, this is the self-hater-but-not-so-self-hater part --'cuz hell I'm still blabbing about myself... which is my favorite topic in this place!!-- , where I'd put a shield all over me, then start shooting myself with Rambo's gun from every direction possible. It's pretty much like a kamikaze pilot with helmet, really.)

No seriously, if there's anything that could describe my being best, that'd be those four. It's like a two way monologue. I mean, as fragile as I can be, it's unbelievable how I could still survive against my own hatred for myself. It's like you're strong and you're weak at the same time. You're happy and you're sad at the exact same moment. If you're wondering how that feels like... well, you're not lucky enough then. It's worth everything. I say, if you haven't experienced that, then you haven't really alive yet. But then again, who the hell am I to say?


At first, I was hugely dissapointed by the first flaw that came into my life. 'My life was perfect and happy before! And now that bloody stain came... and it ruined everything!' I screamed silently. But as I carried on with life, as I quietly opened up to 'different' people, to see things from their view, I began to get it. I looked back at my first wound (which still very hurt sometimes), then I looked at it's reflection in the mirror, and I went 'that's beautiful.' Then I saw myself carrying that wound on my skin, and I thought, 'My Goodness, I look dozen times better than who I was before I got that wound!'

It amazed me how I drastically changed. I guess that's what we call evolving. Or growing up. Or easily influenced. Well... whichever it was, I'm glad I am who I am today. Call me whatever you want--I don't really care anymore anyway--, but a child who knows better about death and could accept it in their own innocent way could make me fall in love better than those who are simply cute and cheerful. I just don't see it that way anymore.

They call it an old soul... hell, I'm proud of it. Like my music taste. I LOVE them classic jazz. The songs from 40s, 50s and 60s... I mean, you should've known why they call those music 'Golden songs'... 'cuz they are golden and timeless. (That, my friend, is the music). Like Ella Fitzgrald, Louis Armstrong, Sarah Vaughan, Etta James... I could scream in a happy agony here! These people are gifted in melody! I can't believe people can't see that. How shallow and pathetic. My family bad-mouthed my taste once, and I made them regret they've ever said what they said. (Brutality contains, mind you).


Take a look at them next big thing like Joss Stone, Jamie Cullum, and Renee Olstead. Then there's Stacey Kent, Jane Monheit, Michael Buble, Natalie Merchant, Diana Krall and Jane Horrock. All these talented vocalists, and people are still in love with Britney Spears??? *shook her head* Apocalypse is near.

I've been thinking about death lately. What a way to end a life, huh? You stared it all alone, you ended it all alone as well. Basically, your best friend and your worst enemy is you. You sleep with your worst enemy everyday without you realizing it. Like I said, it's like a two way monologue. (I love this idea. Like in the book Good Omens by Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman, Aziraphael the angel and Crowly the fallen angel a.k.a satan are two good friends. I really, really like that idea. There's an ultimate understanding there, and it's just fabulous). Then I asked myself, 'Now that you're not dead yet, what have you done for yourself so far?'

To my ultimate surprise, I couldn't answer it.


And snap! It was just like that, the artist in me all of a sudden-ly found her muse and get inspired highly. I want it so bad to write, I want it so bad to draw, I want it so bad to scream out loud and JUST LET GO! But I can't, and you know why. I haven't done much for myself, therefore I owe myself a lot, don't I? Thinking about death, you're going straight down to who you are, who you want to be and what do you want to do. To me, that's a restricted area, 'cuz I'm afraid the temptation will be too big. I don't have that much confindent on myself.


This week, I'm faced to a problem where I have to choose between my head and my heart. I have to choose between myself and my patient's being. At first, my ego shooted right into the air and it wouldn't come down, I forced the situation to follow what my head want. What I want. I don't care about my patient's being whatsoever. My poor patient is just too nice that he can't say no. But then my old soul asked, 'where is your heart?'


And by God, I've hidden it for years. Now... I dunno. But I'm glad the old soul took over the matter and let the heart win against the head. It's a weakness you say? I don't know. It might be a mistake, and we've been conditioned to not make mistake... but hell I can't live that way. People who risk nothing, has nothing, does nothing, is nothing. I don't want that. Concerning death, at least I've got to do something worthy with whatever it is I have in life, don't you agree? Ah well... the point is, it's actually good I faced the dilemma I mentioned above. It'd only make my soul a step older.


And trust me, there's no birthday gift better. ;)



Today is where my book begins. The rest is still unwritten.

Chapter 3 (About you. And me. And love).

Yeah. This is the 3rd chapter of my life.

I don't have many chapters in my life so far, just so you know. But right now, it's chapter number 3. And it's as boring as hell, as complicated as mom's rambling when she's upset, and as nonsense as whatever. I'm telling you this now so you could just leave if you have something else better to do. Leave. Don't read what I wrote, just go. You're about to waste your time.

This chapter of my life began with a HUGE dissappointement over a book called Half-Blood-Prince...which is a complete rubbish after the previous 5 books. (Yes, if you're an avid reader then you'd know what book I'm talking about. If not, just die). What concerned me was... it even affected my REAL life! I lose the mood in everything I do. It was a bungee jumping without a saving rope attached to both of my legs. Why is that?, I asked myself. But of course, I already know why. Growing up with the characters, I became so deeply involved with them. It surprised me how I could get emotional like that just because of a darn fiction! That only shows the true dreamer and believer in me, but again, like I didn't know that.

None of the people whom I meet in my real life shares the same passion on the book and whatever inside it. It's kind of depressing when you need to discuss something but there's nobody you could discuss it with. I was kind of freaked out. Mourning all day and all that... some people couldn't even believe what actually caused my PMS-like syndrome. They'd call me nuts, or freak, or geek, or whatever... like I care. They just don't understand. To them people: 'If you don't speak my language, then shut up is what you need to do.'

It still bugs me. I could only hope that the last of the series won't be as awful and trashy and unnatural and forced like HBP. If it is... I am so going to bomb Jo's house. (Or whatever destructive enough).

Then comes the perverts issues. Like fergie said, I lied and lied 'til there's no turning back. I lied and lied 'til I don't know who I am. (I love that song). The problem is, I'm sick. I'm so sick that nobody could save me, not even myself. I couldn't pull it together sometimes that I create a problem AND get depressed because of it AND won't let people help me by assuming that no one can. Then I'd pretend everthing's fine. I'd smile and everyone would think I'm fine and happy.

Sometimes it could go really bad. I remember those many mornings, I woke up and the first line that sprung in my head was 'I wanna die'. Then after that I took shower and went to campus, and guess what line that was echoing in my ears when I walked toward the place where I worked? Again, 'I wanna die'. And that's it. When I entered the room, all of a sudden I became this cheery, smiley, happy girl who greets. That's sick. That girl stayed with me until I went to bed, but in the next morning the line came again.

The problem is, I'm such a severe introvert who trusts nobody. And guess what? I choose to be one. Why? I have no idea. Am I telling you anything by writing this? I'm not answering that. Don't read what I wrote. Read what I didn't write, then you'll get my point.

What concerned me--and I've been watching over myself for this--is that I have an imbalance, drastic emotional changes. Seriously, I'm not making things up. I could cry with no reason at one time, then laughed very hard in the next minute. This is what I called self-observation. (Yeah, I could be an extreme narcissist when i needed to be one. 'Stop classifying me! Don't put me in one of your boxes of personality! I'm not this or that or whatever. I'm whatever I want to be in my own world. I'm free and I'm staying that way!' )

I lost track. But then I thought, y'know, it's a bad thing to wish for your own death every single morning. I am disturbed, I know, but I still got brain for God's sake. And death isn't what I want either, to be frank. So I changed it into 'I want to be happy'. It worked pretty well though. I want to be happy, I want to be happy, I want to be happy.

Merope is a nice name. But still, HBP sucks big time.

Then.... here comes what Lena said in the Pants sisterhood thing. That was excatly it, it's what I've been looking for and questioned for a long time. I'm really ashamed... yeah, there's a lot of people around me who loses what they held very dear, yet they're still open to love. Me, I lost nothing, yet when aphrodite's around I instantly build this wall around me for no one to enter.

One was there, and gave me everything, and waited, and waited, and patiently waited outside the wall. And I said, 'you could either rot out there or you could just leave and get a life'. Then I locked myself inside the wall and threw the key away. One is still out there, and I still don't care and look at another view through another window instead. Whatever, I'm bad with analogy. And love is too young to know what conscience is.

I'm definitely not a proper human being. Lately I wished for things, and miraculously, I always get what I want. But when it happens, I don't know what I've to do about it. And what usually happens is, I end up ignoring it and let it pass away just like that. I hate myself when I get stupid like that... AAaaaagh!! I wanna d-- I mean, I wanna be happy!!


Well, that concludes it, doesn't it? I haven't found what I've been searching for.


My blogger name is Oryx, and this is the 3rd chapter of my life.