Wanderlust (I Kind of Hate Myself, Too)

Paulo Coelho's Aleph, p.11

wanderlust |ˈwändərˌləst | :  

(n) a strong desire to travel 

What do you do when you're in my position? How do you deal with yourself, the you who has lived within you forever, but was forced to remain voiceless because life demands the other you to rise and grow? What happens when that version of you wants to come out; urges you to give them one more chance, before life corrupts them and they die? I kind of hate myself for having two, or perhaps even more, souls living underneath. Everyone's been there, I'm sure, and they survived, so maybe I would too. But there's always an unspoken story of how they got through with it; how they shut out that other part of them that doesn't go harmoniously with the reality, and how they settled down and make peace with their life now. I wonder if some people never really make peace with that part of them. What happens then? Do they go mad and crazy? Which one will I be? The one who make peace, or the one who go crazy?

Before today, before... every single thing that made up what seems to be my current life now, I had a dream. It's not as noble as Martin Luther King's, but my dream was my dream. It was mine. It has nothing to do with yours, King's, or anybody else. In my dream, I was a wanderer. I traveled across Southeast Asia until I found India, and I found my way to Eastern Europe and then the Mediterranean land, and I roamed Africa, found Ghana, saw Madagascar, until a ship made me a voyage back home. I always long to be somewhere far from home, because we will never appreciate the value of our home if we never leave it. I wanna meet people. I wanna know what it feels like to have nothing to lose apart from my own body. I wanna see this world we all call home. I wanna see the untold stories, the unsung heroes, and the humanity left in this despair we call life. I wanna see the truth. Even when I know for sure that there is never an absolute truth in the world. And from there, I would decide what to make of this world: better, or worse.

But here I am today. Clutching a trophy everyone would call a victory, would sing a song for, but not finding it worth all the joy. I should be grateful; and I am. I really am. But there's a part in me wishing that I would nurture that part of me who dared to dream. There's a part of me, knowing that what I have is so much, and it's more than what I've always wanted, and God knows if I really deserve this. I'm happy. I like what I have. I am yet to see how much I'd grow to love it. (I'm quiet sure I will) But that one part of me, is silently screaming for something else. They want one more chance. Just one. One more chance, that I know I can't afford. They almost hate me now. So I kind of hate myself, too.

A Thought List

1. Strangers are weird. Most of the time they teach you without talking, that the society is shit and no one seems to be up to fix it. Sometimes they make the best conversations I could ever remember, even without knowing their names. And sometimes they could do the simple things they thought mean nothing, when in fact it touches the very soul of someone who's never seen it done with such voluntary notions. Some of them have the power to make you think, and the power to remind you that no matter how ugly the real world is, there is still some kindness and some faith worth investing in people. Well, some people, maybe. I'm not saying we're allowed to be naive, no. I'm saying that it's okay to let our guards down sometimes. It's okay to let people talk to you and trust them a little bit; a trust that they won't rob you and left you somewhere in the highway. Because life without trust is so uncomfortable, you know? Life without trust keeps you in constant worry, never-ending restlessness and a mind filled with so many "what if?" "why?" "how?" and other questions you shouldn't punish yourself with. After all, there wouldn't be a Before Sunrise trilogy if Richard Linklater hadn't talked to a mesmerizing stranger on his way to Philadelphia some decades ago. 

2. We need to stop playing God. Seriously. I mean, the only way it's okay for us to play God is by writing fiction; that way we can do whatever we want with it. Literally whatever. Seriously, stop playing God. God doesn't play mortals either. He could if He wanted to, but can you imagine what would happen if He does?

3. I can never be with someone who doesn't like The Beatles. There, I've even settled for like. I refuse to admit that I know someone who doesn't even know who John Lennon is, or what he looked like. 

4. Jodoh has an expiration date. I'm not talking in the context of soul mate, because who even has the right to talk about it, really? Do we have the right to talk about what we will never know until we take our last breath in this world? But I'm talking about the jodoh terminology Indonesian people use to say to people or thing that are "meant to be". I don't know if you'd understand, but they do. You know, how you get to know people, become friends or lovers with them, and so on? It's because you're meant to be. And when things end, it's not because you weren't meant to be; it's merely because you've come to the expiration date that's always there. I don't know if it's because your star crossed with them but then they keep revolving in a different harmony with you, because for me, the simplest explanation would be an expiration date. Heck, even the old couples who've been together for 70 years have it too. It's just different for everybody. When things fail, instead of saying how you're not meant to be, our definition of it should be rendered into, "Ya memang cuma segini aja jodohnya." 

5. Why point #4? Because God never made a mistake. When He sent someone to come into our lives, He'd know what they'd become to us. A blessing, or a lesson. Sometimes a blessing, then a lesson. But thankfully, it's usually the other way around.

6. I've been mentioning God in this post is not because I just recently found God and become religious etc. I don't really have an answer to this, because I was never necessarily religious in any context. I usually claim myself as being spiritual, while at the same time always coming back to the same religion. One thing I know for sure is that it's always nice to have God. Just like trust and faith aforementioned in point #1, knowing that there is God would make life seems to be more comfortable. And easier.

7. Don't wear your heart on your sleeves. I used to encourage some people to do it, and now they do it in the most annoying way possible. What's too much is never good. Even too much love is gonna kill you. Alright, do it. Wear your heart on your sleeves. But always remember to leave something for you. Don't let people know everything. Only very few people really care. Others are just curious. True story.

8. Feminism is an -ism that even most women don't want to believe in. It used to be a heroic movement for women because it's a man's man's world after all. But feminism is now more like a doctrine men made to make fun of the women and make women hate themselves. I'm not a feminist. I believe in a lot of women's rights and women emancipation and blah blah, but women have to admit that they don't always demand gender equality. Because it's always nice to, once in a while, be treated the way women should be treated. Dare any lady say no about this?

9. Not knowing is always a gift. And bravery is always a rewarding act. 

The Person Behind The Mask

Sometimes I think I know you so well. I know you're this cheerful, witty and constantly off the wall kind of person. And when you're being that, it makes me feel happy because you are, well, happy. Your life is so full of colors that's bright and shiny. But then you could've just showed me another side of you—the you who's profound, grim, deep and thoughtful. The you that's the complete opposite of who I thought you are. The you that's dark, as if I thought you were a sunny day in Maui while deep inside, you're a cold, cloudy dusk in snowy Greenland. And that's when I feel sad, because... Because I feel like I was wrong about you. Like all these times I spent trying to get to know you, figuring out what you are and what you're not, was a waste of time.

But it's true what they say, that before you judge on people, you have to be strong enough and make a fair play: judge yourself first. And the judgement came, and truth is, I'm a lot like that, in a lot of ways.

A lot of people thought of me as this person who don't get sad over anything. They thought I'm one of those person who has a smile available all the time. They thought I was only capable of being lighthearted and cheery. They didn't expect me to be able to write about things I write here, because they didn't even know that I have certain parts of the brain that allows me to have a depth. It's because I seem to be shallow all the time, I know. And perhaps the big reason for that is because I let myself to be like that. But I didn't mean to hide the me that have some kind of depth—the me that feels, rather than smile and make a joke about it. I wouldn't rather let people think I'm cheerful than grimy, no. I'd rather let people have their opinions about me, and when they found something that didn't meet their expectations about it, they'd be surprised. I'd prefer that storyline.

You see, maybe that's exactly what you wanna do. You want to surprise people. You want the universe to surprise people, rather than putting on an effort in order to let people know who you are, and what you are capable of. Because whether I do it unconsciously or not, that's what I do. And that's what I want, I don't wanna be blamed for that. So, I don't blame you. In fact, I like that about you. I like people who surprises people without even trying. 

So you see, each one of us hides a personality that didn't seem to fit; one that didn't seem likely for us to have simply because they say, "That's so not you." Sure, each one of us has a personality traits that can describe us individually. But I believe that everyone has more than one personality, and therefore everyone shouldn't be described in only one adjective. Because chances are, that one girl who always seems to be so serious, is indeed a comic writer, or a party animal at night. And perhaps that one guy who's childish and funny and humorous, is a serious thinker; the brain behind the propaganda. It's not a double personality disorder, it's just depth.  

You Will Be Alright

You know you're tired. You know your candles are burnt in both ends, and you're running out of paraffin to burn. You know you have to take a break; short and long ones. You just need to recharge yourself and stop squeezing lemons to your open sore. You have to nurse your wounds and heal your broken bones. But they need you. They want you. They ask for more than just an encore. They demanded that you be there to cheer them up. They don't see you as a candle, but a fluorescent light. They love you. They show you their love. They don't want you go. So you stay there for them, even if it kills you inside.