Leaning Against The Wall: Philosphy of Love (Part II)

My philosophy of love is somewhat complicated.

For me, love is so many things. It’s when a mother holds her child for the first time. When the kids come running to their dad and squealed in delight, whilst he embraced them in open arms and smiled. It’s when couples take one of those famous long walks by the beach (anywhere, really. But nothing beats walking on the beach) hand in hand. It’s when husbands give their wives a kiss on the forehead for support. It’s those looks your boyfriend (or girlfriend) give you to describe what they mean, and you understand it perfectly. I could go on and on about this particular thing alone.

For me, love is like reading a Sparks’ novel. Sometimes I’m quite content with what I have in my life, other times I wishes I had what he’d wrote in his novels. That spark and that enthusiasm and romanticism of love. Nothing else matters in his world. Just the story of the man and the woman can keep you from breathing long enough until you realise that it’s not healthy. He has that essence. To be able to describe something, someone, ever so perfectly, and the fact that he’s a man, is beyond me. I thought, "Well no one’s that romantic." But he is. It’s not perfect, all-the-time romantic. But, yeah, he’s a rarity.

The emotions that come with love can sometimes be overwhelming. It’s good if it can bounce you up to cloud 7, but it’s bad if it brought you down all the way to hell. It’s so powerful, sometimes, that it can take away your self control. How many times is it have you heard about people killing themselves because they were dumped or got pregnant and the boyfriend ran off? I’ve heard one too many.
How many times have you heard those unbelievably romantic stories about people who’d been friends since kindergarten, and then got married? People whose life been changed because of their loved ones? Surprisingly these last two, many as they are, aren’t as much as the bad ones. Either way, it doesn’t matter. These are prove that love is powerful.

I cannot describe love in a solid definition. People are always trying to figure out what love really is. Well, you can’t. It thoroughly depends on how you’ve experienced love, and how you take lessons from each experiences. It might not be good, and it might not be bad, too. The important thing about it is to learn. It grows as you grow. I didn’t know squat about love when I was 3. Now, I’m the hopeless romantic that I am; and it’s all a learning process.

Love can be like a music. Everytime I hear violin, the sound of it, playful at one time and painful at other times, reminds me of life and of love. When it’s a sad song (you just know when it’s a sad song), every long, slow shriek of the violin sound felt painful for me. Try listening to "Love Theme from Cinema Paradiso" by Ennio Morricone. The same can be said about those long notes singers sing. Try listening to "Only One" by Yellowcard (The Accoustic Version) or "The Ghost of You" By MCR.
But there are songs that can make you smile and daydream about your future. In my case, future would be when I walk down the aisle; like:
a. what kind of song would be playing in the background, or
b. should I walk barefooted, or
c. would it be a garden party or a private beach ceremony.
My perfect example would be Edwin McCain’s "I Could Not Ask For More".
I told you I’m a hopeless romantic.

The ideal definition of love would be on 1 Corinthians chapter 10, verse 12 (1Cor 10:12) Just… read it up. It’s be good for you to read the Bible.

People say that love is A, or love is B, or love is C, and they try to convince other people around them that live is according to their definition. Simply put, they’ll say something like this: "If I say that love is A, it means that it’s A. There’s no other definition for it."

For me love is complicated. Love is like the ocean. Love needs sacrifice. Love makes you happy, or sad, in their own ways. Love is blind. Love can make you do crazy things. Love can open you eyes and shut your eyes at the same time. Love can change you. Love is unpredictable.
I don’t know which one suits your definition, but in the end,
Love is Love itself.

Leaning Against The Wall: Stripping Myself Down (Part I)

Whenever I was aksed to write down an essay about who I am, I imagined it to be about 5 pages long (okay, maybe 3), front and back. But, as I confronted the paper, sitting down on my sometimes-confortable-chair with a pen in hand, there was always about 2 to 3 minuted of silence and consideration. What should I write? I know I should write about me, but where do I begin?

The thing about myself is that I think too much. Way too much. Hyperbolic, in a way that only myself can understand. A perfect example would be if I was going somewhere by taxi. In my head, the calculations had done wonders with my mind, making myself think that I was gonna spend about 100 thousand going from my campus to Pluit. When came the time for me to pay, I only had to pay 40 thousand.

Even as I’m writing this blog right now, I still can’t figure out as to where am I suppose to begin to describe myself? the topic is just too far fetched, and needs serious kinds of explanations, to me or to you the readers. I can’t just describe myself in a sentence. It has to be at least 1 page of folio paper.

The funny thing is, that everytime someone ask me to write down on a piece of paper something about myself, I always write that I AM UNIQUE. And that sits at the top of the list. Always.

I am a complex human being. On the outside, I may be rough and some say sinister on some level (which I truly, truly acknowledge). My friends told me all the time that when they saw me for the first time, they were kinda scared at me, mainly because I had that ‘cool’ look, and they kinda got the impression that I wasn’t someone that’s easy to be around with.
That being said, nowadays they said how wrong they were about my first impression. I’m a crazy person. I do lots of things which I think are enough to be put into the crazy category; like riding Tornado when my face was white as a corpse. Twice in one day, mind you. Both times before I sat on the ride, I made dozens and dozens of cross signs, praying, "Don’t fall, don’t fall, don’t fall."

Crazilly enough, I rode it twice.

I think I’d grown up spiritually, and I’d learned how to be a better human being. Not to others, but to myself, too. I learn to give myself a break once in a while, because I know that I need it. Whenever I don’t have college reports to do, I’m always too busy going online or watching TV or going somewhere from 8AM to 8PM… Ever since college, I felt like my social life had been somewhat taken away from me, so whenever there’re no reports I have to do, I’m too busy trying to catch up.

I’d learned, in a rather easy way, that my life’s purpose is not about making everyone happy. And it’s not about making the right impression so people don’t hate me. My life is about me. And if I spend every moment of my life trying to please everyone, trying to make every single human being on this planet love me, than I’ll be damned to death before it happens. Because it can never be accomplished. If there’s one person who was adored by EVERY SINGLE PERSON ON THIS PLANET, then by all means he should get in the Guiness World Record. Even someone like Bechkam or Nelson Mandela has haters, you know.

Love is another thing, which I will write in Part II. There’s a whole definition of love and ambition and potential within myself that I’ve known only recently. This part I’d like to close out with my purpose of living.

Even until now, I still can’t figure it out. What is my purpose of living? That’s a hard question. It needs serious thinking. As serious as I try to be about it, I still can’t find the right answer. It’s different between my wants and my purpose. Truthful fact:
What do you want? My own family and a house by the beach.
What’s your purpose of living? …………

It’s not easy for me. I still need some time to figure that one out. I know I will, eventually. But, as much a young adult as I am now, for the life of me I still can’t give an absolute answer. My purpose of living will resolve itself out, all the while letting myself grow to be a mature person.

I am a unique person. Simply put, that’s the best one sentence description I can give myself.

Learn from What You Watch

Ever watch that Grey’s? It’s a good show.

No, this is not a promotional blog. Believe me, when I write a blog, it’s because there’s something about it that struck a chord in me.

Back to Grey’s. In every episode, there’s an opening monologue, which leads to the story, and it always ends with (well) a monologue. Intriguing, for me, coz it seemed like it’s got a little bit of Desperate Housewives going on. But no, this one’s different after I watched it for a while. This one has more depth. It’s very… normal; meaning it’s what we humans always feel in life. It talks about fear, superstition, why people like to drive themselves crazy, why people like to wait, why we like to cross the line, stuff like that.

It relates to me on so many level. As a student. As a person. As a friend. As a human being. There was this one episode, in the beginning of the 3rd season, where Meredith lied down on the floor with Izzie… They didn’t say much, but nearing the end, Meredith just offered her hand and Izzie took it. They bold held each other’s hands so strongly, and there are no words for that. In their eyes, in their weird way of communicating, you know deep inside that they need each other. And that hand grasp was an assurance that they are there for each other.

It’s about friends. It’s about family. It’s about love (or else I don’t think it would be as a hit as it is now). They have so many smart lines and analysis about the reason of people doing the stuff that we think is stupid, but we do it anyway. You know what I mean, right? Take an example from superstition. It’s not real. But we do it. Why? Because we humans know that we’re not smart enough to know everything…
Another example: Why do we love to torture ourselves? Okay, not the I-love-to-slam-my-head-against-the-wall-for-no-purpose kind of torture, but more of a wait-until-the-very-last-minute kind. The asnwer can be found in an old English saying. Why do I keep hitting my head with a hammer? Because it feels so good when I stop.

See why television series is so addictive?

Pernah Dinasehati Diri Sendiri?

Pernah gak pas lagi nulis2… ato nasehatin orang gitu… trus lo merasa bahwa kata2 yang keluar dari mulut lo itu sebenernya bisa jadi nasehat ato wejangan (apalah namanya) buat diri lo sendiri, n buat situasi yang lagi lo hadepin saat itu? Gue sering… ^o^

Bukannya mau sok pinter ato gimana, tapi emang bener apa yang Alkitab bilang. Kalo balok di depan mata itu kagak keliatan, sedangkan seuprit nasi yang kalo dari radius 2 meter (extremnya) suka gak keliatan aja bisa keliatan dari jarak amat sangat jauh. Kita memang orang yang suka mengkritik tapi gak kritis ke diri sendiri. Gue salah satunya.

Mengkaui bahwa gue punya sifat begitu, menurut gue menunjukkan indikasi bahwa gue sudah beranjak dewasa. Inilah tandanya. Lo bisa mulai kritis ke diri sendiri. Lo tau diri lo tuh sebenernya salah. Tapi emang dasar anak muda, namanya kalo udah ngebet, biar kata udah tau salah banyakan masih aja di hajar bleh. Ya akibatnya bisa dirasakan sendiri lah ya?

Gak mudah memang buat ngerubah diri sendiri, tapi rasanya kalo lo bilangin orang laen n dia masih tetep gak berubah, kalo gue sih, pengen gue unyek2 palanya biar maxudnya nyadar salahnya dimana n diperbaiki. Tapi cobalah Anda terapkan ke diri Anda sendiri. Susah, bukan? Gue salut deh sama orang yang udah bisa menerapkan itu ke dirinya. Hebat… Kalo boleh minta resepnya…

Gue bergaul dengan temen2 baru, yang memaksa gue untuk berfikir jauh ke depan. dari grup orang2 itu, dengan gue salah satunya, gue dipaksa buat keluar jalur n jadi dewasa dengan waktu yang singkat. Gue gak bilang ini susah ato gue merasa terbebani dalam ngejalaninnya, karena pada kenyataannya emang nggak. yang gue seselin adalah kenapa orang2 di sekitar gue, khususnya grup itu, yang kemana2 hapir selalu bersama, nggak bisa (ato gak mau, gue juga gak tau) ambil sikap dewasa. Apa-apa liatnya subjektif. Gimana mereka bisa memperbaiki diri sendiri kalo udah kayak begitu?

Contohnya aja ya? Kita2 punya kayak semacem buku yang buat ditulis sama2. Pada suatu waktu, karena udah kebanyakan kata2 ’stress’ n ‘frustrasi’ n ‘bt’ n ‘takut’ di dalam buku itu, jadilah gue menulis bahwa lo sebagai mahasiswa (baru, lagi) harus bisa nyesuaiin diri. Meskipun pas nulis itu gue sendiri juga masih dalam taraf terintimidasi oleh 1 makul, tapi toh akhirnya gue pikir, kalo gue bawa stress terus, akhirnya yang ga beres itu gue, n bukan orang lain. Istilahnya, lo jadi self-destructive kan kalo kayak gitu? Gue bilang segala macem kata2 deh, bahwa idup itu susah, de el el…

TIDAK DITERAPKAN. Masih aja begitu… Masa menulis buku yang seharusnya jadi bahan buat lucu2an dimulai dengan kata "Ck." Lo bayangin deh. Gue pas ngeliatnya pertama kali aja udah langsung empet. Maksudnya, kok negatif amat sih?

Dari semua pengalaman itu, membawa gue berfikir tentang dinasehati sama diri lo sendiri. Pernah gak sih? Gue yang saat itu (masih dalam kejadian penulisan kata "Ck." di kata pembuka, yang bikin gue maag) langsung sebel sama die (secara… dia duduk sebelah gue, gitu) karena kepesimisan n kesebelan dia yang mau gak mau ditransfer ke gue. pengen gue unyek2 palanya, beneran. Eits, tapi ya… ini yang tiba2 muncul dalam pikiran:
"Sendirinya juga pernah begitu, kan? Bedanya lo sama dia adalah lo tuh bisa nahan2 emosi. Ya lo udah gede, gitu. Dia tuh mentalnya masih anak2 istilahnya. Udahlah. Biarin aja. Percuma juga dinasehatin, kata-kata gue pasti dibantah2 melulu. Simpen aja nasehatnya. Terapin ke diri sendiri dulu, jadi contoh yang baek, baru deh ngomong. Kalo sendirinya masih sama aja, ya ngapain juga?"

Wew… Itu membuat gue hening n merenung… Gue dinasehati diri sendiri, man…

You Don’t Know What You’ve Got till It’s Gone

Whoever said that title above: You certainly know what you said.

Who knows what would happened to me if I had gone to Australia to study in the 10th grade? I wouldn’t be able to know and to be friends with so many wonderful people I’ve been given the privilige to know and to be friends with. All 38 of them; my teacher and my friends. I wouldn’t be a member of a positively atmosphered forum organized by Greenout. I wouldn’t have been able to experience the sweet and painful sides of love (yes, there are two sides to love… and yes, I enjoy both…) I wouldn’t have been able to know God more intimately and more closely, and I wouldn’t have been able to witness a miracle right in front of me. Lastly; I wouldn’t have known Justine…

My life in college sucks my energy right out of me, and you have no idea how it’s hard for me to go there everyday. Something was missing. I used to feel like going to school was the thing that kept me going. I had people I could rely on, and I still can rely on. And I se them everyday, and I contact them everyday. Now everything felt empty and hollow. I have literally no reason to go there, except to chase away grades (for us students, school or college students, that’s what we do everyday). I’m exhausted as I could ever be, even more so than I already had when I was in school.

I know far and well that I had to move forward and had to stop lingering about in the past. But boy if I could turn back time, I would. Maybe this is why time machine is never invented. People would be so busy going back in time, that the present stays still.

What I can hold on to, is the memory that we shared together. No matter how annoying that one person, or that certain group of people, I will always remember my classmates as one of the best groups that I’ve been in. The membership is for life. I cry everytime I pray to God about me and my friends, and ask Him dearly to keep us together.

It’s possible that I may have a better life in Australia, or the other way around. But I can’t imagine my life without them. Clearly, you don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone. So true in every single word.

Is There Such a Thing as A Happy Monotonous Life?

Ever since I officially became a university student (which started as bad as it could be, believe me), I’d wondered about the people leading a monotonous life. Is there such a thing as a happy monotonous life? And, again, I look at Justine.

Dealing with a lot of paper assignments and essays and chem-lab, I thought I’d chose the wrong major. And it turns out that I’m not the only one. A lot of my friends felt the same. That same sense of pride that I had, the slight euphoria of being able to call myself a Biotech Student had suddenly disappear. There are none of that going on right now. All there are are the feeling of being pushed to your very own limitation (of doing AS MANY ASSIGNMENTS AS YOU CAN) and being intimidated by my own feelings. I’m scared, no more than a little duck being left alome in a dark cave with no lights on, and I think I’m going to be in that mode for at least a semester. I really hope I can change, and I can adapt well, but right now all my mind seems to do is just switch back and forth between feeling scared and ‘what-the-hell!’ mode. It’s all in here. And they switch like crazy.

My life right now is full with surprises and assignments and tiredness. No matter how much I sleep, it doesn’t seem enough for me. I constantly move in class, crossing my legs, shifting my seating position, tapping my foot, or just moving rythmically with no particular reason at all. This seems like a habit that I had developed since I was little, but I can’t help but thought that it has something to do with me being intimidated, and manipulated by my own fear.

People only look at us from the external layer. Everytime they ask me what major I took, and I say, "I’m in Biotechnology", their response would involve either:
1. Rolling their eyes
2. "Whoa!"
3. "You must have been really smart!"

When I’m not THAT smart. I do admit that it put a bit of pride in me, as they think of me as some really smart guy (hopefully not a geeky one), but at the same time I wanna scream out loud that I’ve had it with the papers and the reports and I just wanna throw it all in their faces and they can eat it if they like, coz the truth is, I don’t care.

This morning in class, I thought, "How fun is Justine’s life? No papers, no reports, no intimidating lab assistants… Everyday is tennis. Wake up, breakfast, shower, do a physio, rest, lunch, train, rest and get all the fun. Man, she could by a luxurious boat cruise if she want to and just go away… Monotonous, it seems, in a way, but she’s happy."

When can I find that happiness, when right now, I feel like my sense of self is losing?