Another [Complicated] Me

I'm so picky... dalam situasi normal, aku cenderung sangat teliti memilih sesuatu yg akan kumiliki---atau kemungkinan menjadi milikku,
..karena sesuatu yg kumiliki, means forever... dalam situasi normal tentu saja. Ketika semua keputusan untuk menyimpan, melepaskan, atau membuang sepenuhnya ada di tanganku, aku tak akan membuang apapun---nyaris apapun, yg pernah punya makna dalam perjalananku menempuh sang hidup.

Seperti lagu berjudul "Hotel California" itu, sesuatu mungkin bisa dengan mudah [atau sangat sulit] melangkah memasuki kehidupanku,
tapi berhati-hatilah untuk tidak terjebak, dan membiarkanku memegang semua kendali. Karena jika sampai itu terjadi, aku mungkin tak akan melepaskan apapun.
Jika semua pilihan ada di tanganku, jika kuasa sepenuhnya di pihakku, bersiaplah untuk melihatku seumur hidupmu. 

Namun, ketika pilihan "pergi" masih kau simpan sendiri, ketika kemudian kau memakai pilihan itu dan memutuskan untuk meninggalkan dunia kecilku, kau akan menyadari bahwa takkan ada sepatah ratapan pun keluar dari mulutku. You're free to go. Believe me, I will let you go with my head's up.

Aku mungkin akan menatap punggungmu, melangkah menjauh dari hidupku, tanpa air mata. Tidak akan ada air mata. Tidak saat kau masih bisa melihatnya, tidak. 

Aku mungkin membiarkanmu pergi. Begitu saja. Tapi kau mungkin takkan menyadari yang tersimpan di belakang mataku. Bahwa kepergianmu bukanlah "akhir". Kau mungkin memang sudah pergi, tapi kenanganmu---hal yg jelas berada di area "kepemilikan"-ku, adalah milikku untuk kuletakkan dimanapun. 

"incapable of throwing something out", entah itu kebiasaan yg bermanfaat atau merugikan. Aku bisa memaafkan. Aku dengan mudah bisa melupakan. Tapi butuh kuasa lain bagiku untuk "mengenyahkan" kebanyakan hal dalam hidupku.

Lihatlah barang-barang  di rumah masa kecilku. Barang-barang dari zaman antah berantah. Barang-barang lama yang segala keputusan untuk "tinggal/pergi"-nya sepenuhnya ada di tanganku, dan tangan sang waktu.  Sebagian besar  dari mereka, berdesakan di sudut2 tak terjamah. Tak pernah benar2 kubuang atau sepenuh hati kusimpan. Beberapa lainnya, tersimpan aman rapi di "kotak2 penyimpanan". Lainnya, tak pernah benar2 berhenti "bekerja" sampai ia tak bisa "dipekerjakan" lagi, bahkan setelah itupun---terutama setelah semua itu, aku takkan pernah sanggup membuangnya. 

You might call me klepto. Obsessive-compulsive-control-freaks. Or whatever. Doesn't matter. 

Thruth is, I'm just once upon a time this girl, this sweet little girl who want to cherish every-single-thing-in-this-world that worth to be cherished, not knowing that "this world" is so very very big and partly cruel.

Now, growing up, as almost every sweet little child lost its sweetness somewhere in between,  I guessed I'm not an exception. Now, I'm just this girl, an ordinary woman... who still can't give up a little girl bad habit and obsession of collect or own or cherish something she's infatuate with. And she's not that innocent no more. Of course she doesn't. 

  

**I'm not that nice, just so you know. If our fate ever intertwined, you should know.. and be prepared that I, would never ever let go of your hand except you're doing it first. 



this genre of movies : dark comedy

Am I that shallow before? I don't know. I despise shallow people the most, I don't wanna be one of them, yet, there might be a chance that I already live that kind of life before. Though I hope I did not.

At thirty, the show I am living, gradually changing into a dark comedy. 
Depressing, yet,
I'm still capable of laughing. Strangely find myself smirking. I feel everything, deeply. Heavily. I never thought thoughtfulness gonna be this heavy. Like a dark clouds following you everywhere. Reminds you that in life, "it is" never always be "what it is". 
Oh, and in this dark comedy stage, theres this one ingredient that always be there wherever you go, whatever you do, whichever emotion you put on your face.. that salt-kind-ingredient of life: sadness.
On such a happy-setting-stage, sadness still presence in the far far away corner. Hiding in the darkness. I might not spot it right away, consciously at some occasion, but I would always find it whenever I let myself uncosciously search for it. Thankfully, theres one thing nice about sadness,
it gave extra meaning in whatever I see through it.

Now, I'm not that innocence anymore.
Well yeah, I'm thirty for the record, it's normal at that stage of life. Though I did miss my old self sometimes ----that happier me, but... life must go on! yeah? 
Whatever life put you through, whichever sight life force you to see... what kind of ruin you ended up to be, that's on your hand. They are the result of your own choices.
So, yeah! Life must go on. Because I refused to be that irresponsible.
My life might been a mess collide with bad habbit, bad attitude... and a heavily resentment. It might not the life that I always wanted, but life must go on.
With that in mind, I know I might life in this denial state forever... but, that's the best choices I could pick, right now. For now. So, it's ok. It's ok. Or so I say.

living on autopilot phase

[I call it 'time out' mode, though time certainly never give me that luxury. my very great loss. i know it. i resent it. i just can do nothing about it. i dont. i think i dont]

The rain finally fall. The season finally changed. It's October 31st 2019, at 22.45pm...

At thirty, at this very age.. I've had this emptiness. numbness.
no excitement about future they called 'live' no more. Life just time, 
passing through. sadly. boringly. metodically.
forgotten dream. lost passion. bad habbit growing nasty..
gradually fading into darkness.
Whatever they call it this symptoms, I consciously realize that,
I'm falling.
somehow still falling,
down
down
down... down...
I know falling wasn't always a bad thing, there's so many statement out there about people hitting rock bottom, then bounce back. awesomely.
but,
I don't know. 
Will I bounce back when I finally hit that rock deep deep down below?
Will I have that strength? will God grant me that mercy?
Jim Moriarty, this villain from this Sherlock tv series once said,

...Falling is just like flying, except there's a more... permanent destination. And, it's not the fall that kills you.
It is the landing.

yea, the landing. that so called 'hitting rock bottoms'.
I realize I'm falling. and this falling certainly would stop at some point,
I don't know when, but, just like the rainy days come.. this falling would either make permanent those emptiness-no passion-metodically ignorant-boring life of mine, or
there's that bounce back thing.

one thing,
I think, when I finally awake from this  terrible dream,
when I finally feel the flow of time again,
I maybe awaken, finding myself all alone.
...after those terrible ignorant bad things that I did, 
it's only natural that people left me. It is, if I ever awaken, as a sane normal person, not the permanently mad one. 

this TVseries, I can't get over with

The Spanish Princess
https://m.imdb.com/title/tt8417308/

My newest most favourite TV Series besides Sherlock https://m.imdb.com/title/tt1475582/ and Gossip Girl
https://m.imdb.com/title/tt0397442/

Well, akhirnya!
Sebuah kisah dari sudut pandang Catherine! Woaaah!
Everybody----almost every adaptation drama or documentaries I've watched around the Tudors court, seems to adore that other Boleyn girl more than this Spanish princess... They tend to underrated  Catherine as an ignored boring-old-rigid first wife of Henry VIII.

Anne Boleyn was the mother of famous Queen Elizabeth, and she's beheaded because of the king's jealousy which means she's very favoured once, and that she 'played' her tricks so well at Henry's court..
But, I think I'd never root for her, or her ambition, or her coyness. No. It will always Catherine for me,
True, Catherine was someway no different than that other Boleyn girl. She has a goal, and she know how to reach it. And she played well with 'tricks' too, but, there's this senses of dignity in her where on that Boleyn's girl I could strangely feel this whor*ish smell.

the broken porcelain

I grow up in this one house... people see it as a broken one.
They know me as a child, from this broken relationship. A broken kid. 
Not that I care.
Growing up, I certainly didn't have everything I want.. just like any other usual kid in the world. Growing up, I did learn what it means being un-usual, being the kind of child who-own-a-broken-houses. It never really hurt me, growing up. Well, sometimes I really did crying. Feel the loneliness around me. The cold inside me. The un-usual things that make me didn't get what any other usual kid easily have, the one they unconsciously take for granted. I did really have envy sometimes, that me against the world kind of feeling, or the blame, or the pity-me-moment. But, all of that just little me.. growing up.
I did learn. And I did growing up. And I am grateful.
This whole me, the one some people still see as a broken porcelain, I did grateful for myself. Or that particular people I called home, the one who originally own that broken houses. The one with broken relationship.
Allah put me in that broken place with reason. There's always intention. And Allah intention.. there's always something emotionally beautiful in His mysterious-grand-plan. 
It wasn't an easy experience, growing up, nor the most difficult. It just, little me, being taught. Being loved.
Now, when being the-broken-porcelain thing start to give me headache, heartache and crawl-under-my-ignorant-kind-of-skin, I can only believe in Allah.
He owns me. He owns this whole world and the hereafter. He is the Owner of everything.
This broken-porcelain-skin that most parent find it ugly, this beyond-my-control things that starting to try to drag my contentedness away.. I won't let it win over me. It surely can hurt me. It surely did frustrate me. But, in Allah I seek guidance. In Him I seek protection.  And in praying Him I find tranquilness.

THE FALL

"....... I let it fall, my heart ......" 

Gini tho rasanya. Membuka hati, memberi izin pada dirimu... merasakan kehadiran jiwa lain.
Membiarkan hati, berbuat sekehendak hati.
Rasa ini,
bukan jenis yang merambat dari pandangan mata ke ulu hati. Atau jenis yang berdetak begitu saja, hadir tanpa aba-aba. Rasanya bukan. Aku membiarkan hatiku merasa,
lalu 'kejatuhan' itu menghasilkan detak-detak di ulu hati. Rasa.

That fall, made me feel your everything. This fall, just this damn thing called 'in love', I basically let myself falling for you. Feels for you.
I didn't know yet if this is gonna be good or bad for us, to just let myself easily feels this way about you. All I know, right know... my heart beats in your name. Wait! Okay, maybe that last sentence was a little bit exaggerating. Well, my point is, I finally know what it means when some girl saying with a soft-sad-dramatic-voice, she let herself feels for somebody... other than herself. A man. Maybe a boy. A love interest. I think this is quite different than a crush-kind-of-feeling. This is not something you fall without knowing when or how. This thing, this heart-beat-in-your-name kind of feeling that I am talking about only happen after you let your heart, your soul or yourselves open to feel for a certain person.
Well, well...
this is me, falling.
For you I'm feeling. ***Now, I quite understand why it call 'falling' when somebody in love with someone else.

This fall, this one that I'm gonna do, I'll do it for you... freely... knowingly. Hoping you're the one, I've been waiting all along. I've been missing all this life.
just so you know. 

the MOTHER

Pada umumnya, di banyak kasus, ibu, 

adalah salah satu orang yang paling mengerti dirimu. Memahami benar karaktermu.

Tidak dalam kasusku.

Setidaknya, aku tidak merasa demikian.

Tidak masalah. Tidak ada yang salah. Toh, di dunia ini bukan cuma aku yang mengalaminya.

Beberapa orang bisa berkata dengan bangga, ibuku... ibuku... ibuku. Aku?

Aku tidak tahu.

Aku menyayangi ibuku, tentu saja. Siapa yang tidak? Se-asing apapun seorang anak dengan wanita yang melahirkannya, ada sebentuk rasa ---tak terbaca--- mengikat keduanya.

Umumnya orang, bisa dengan indahnya berkata, ibuku... ibuku... ibuku. Aku?

Mungkin dua kata pertama. Atau terakhir.

Ingin menjadi ibu seperti apa aku dimasa depan? Satu hal yang pasti,

jika bukan untuk perkara hidup dan mati, aku tidak ingin menjadi ibu yang tidak mengenal anaknya.

Setiap wanita, hampir setiap wanita memiliki alasannya masing-masing ketika mereka lebih mengutamakan karir.

Memilih bekerja di luar rumah dan membiarkan anak dibesarkan orang lain. Hampir semua ibu punya alasannya masing-masing, untuk tidak mau menjadi wanita yang hanya mendekam dirumah mengasuh anak. Bersih-bersih. Memasak. Dan 'mengemis' pada lelaki beberapa keping koin yang harus setengah mati ia anggarkan. Apa aku akan bisa?

Ketika kepingan koin itu ternyata masih sangat belum mencukupi anggaran, apa aku akan mampu untuk tidak menyerahkan tugas pengasuhan anak pada orang lain, dan bekerja di luar rumah? pilihan macam apa yang akan kubuat?

Mereka bilang, buah jatuh, tidak jauh dari pohonnya... Apa pada akhirnya, aku juga akan mengambil satu-satunya pilihan yang paling kusesalkan pernah diambil ibuku?

Aku tidak tahu. Aku jelas tidak ingin begitu. Tidak dalam satu hal itu.

Aku tidak peduli feminisme, kalau itu sudah berkaitan dengan anak. Aku akan menjadi ibu bagi anakku walau itu berarti seutuhnya mencukupkan diri pada apa yang dinafkahkan lelaki. Membiarkan lelaki yang keras mengusahakan penghidupan. Aku akan menjadi rumah, tempat ia pulang melepas lelah.

Mencukupkan diri. Menempatkan diri. Mengolah emosi. Tersenyum. Rumah.

Tidak masalah bagiku menjadi perempuan jawa. Yang menempatkan dirinya dibawah lelaki. Membiarkan dirinya dilindungi, bahkan ketika sebenarnya ia mampu melindungi dirinya sendiri. Aku tidak keberatan menjadi gadis kolot itu, yang meyakini bahwa kodrat wanita adalah menjadi ibu. Ibu. Ibu yang tugas utamanya adalah melahirkan dan mendidik buah hatinya.

Aku akan menjadi ibu, ketika panggilan itu datang. Terutama ketika panggilan itu sangat dibutuhkan di masa-masa awal pertumbuhan anak. Dan aku akan menjadi wanita seutuhnya ketika panggilan lain datang, ketika tugas pengasuhan dan pembinaan itu tidak lagi mengikat, aku akan menjadi wanita yang mencoba memeluk kembali hasrat dan mimpi-mimpi lamanya.

Begitulah rencananya. Ha!

Manusia berencana, manusia diberi pilihan-pilihan oleh Tuhan,

akhir dari pilihan-pilihan itulah ujung rencana.

wallahu a'lam bisshowab