My Lucid Dream

This year, I realized that I am a lucid dreamer. I think it all began from a long time ago. Whenever I felt strongly about someone, I ended up having lucid dreams about that person. In my dreams, I watched scene by scene took place before me. It was very much like watching a movie most of the time, but at other times, it was like taking part in an adventure. Anyway, the realization of being a lucid dreamer came when I had dreams about this boy (three times straight!) where we went on some sort of fantasy, anime-ish adventure (well, it just turns out that my dreams tend to be a lot immature and irrational). Since then, I decided to keep track of what my dreams show me. Hence, this blog post.

And so, here I am: about to tell you the lucid dream I had this morning.

***

It took place in a dystopian era. There were these three siblings: one older brother and two younger sisters. They roamed around in an abandoned theme park. It seemed that the building they just entered used to be a futuristic simulation game. I didn't know what they did there in the theme park or why they were there. I only knew that the buildings were a ruin, except for the one they entered.

I followed them to a room with a big screen and auditorium-like seats in metallic gray. The screen displayed a scene of Greek pillars in creme color. The brother and sisters put on something like a glasses. And we were suddenly sucked into the screen, or at least that was how I feel. 

We saw a group of girls, I didn't know what they were talking about, but it seemed that they were arguing with this older woman whose figure was so big because she was intimidating, and the only one who understood what the scene before us meant was the youngest sister. And suddenly, we were back at the auditorium.

It was then that I heard her whisper, "No, that's not how you use it..." And even until now, I didn't understand what she referred to. Neither her older sister nor her brother seemed to understand, either, but the younger sister kept repeating her words with a saddened expression on her face. That was when I noticed how pretty she was, with long brown hair and a round face and a big, expressive eyes. She was so captivating and strongly resembled the girls on the screen, and she felt out of place in a dystopian building like this.

The older sister tried to talk to her while the brother tried to find someone who ran the place, but none of it worked. I remembered the older sister explaining to me that this happened sometimes. But why then? Why there? And then she proceeded to say that the room used to be a Greek temple for this godly figure called Reia, who was served only by girls. Apparently, the youngest sister was Reia's most trusted servant; the one beyond the others. The one Reia communicated with. And she was referring to something she used to use to communicate with Reia, but now hung like a pot of plant. 

It dawned on me that those siblings were people of the past.

***

And then I woke up. 

Nonsense

What if I fall in love with you?
I would want to tell the world that it feels like I am wrapped in stars
I float and I float and stardusts glitter my hands and my feet
You would take me far from the harsh words I speak every so often
Then we would fly in a balloon of music because music is sweet
And this imaginary bliss is sweet

And if you fall in love with me
You would sing me songs they play on the radio on Saturday nights
You text me and call me and talk about the things we'd do on dates
I would listen to you; bring me up to speed with everything I missed
Then we would drive to a place where pipe dreams are lived
And towards where prayers and illusions head

But any announcement and I would jinx it
And one day I would wake up to a withered rose
of what used to be a cherished friendship and a possible romance

Apakah Saya Seorang Muslim?

Baru saja saya mengisi sebuah survei yang diperuntukkan khusus untuk orang-orang beragama Islam. Survei itu dari seorang mahasiswa jurusan Psikologi. Saya kira semestinya akan berhubungan dengan pandangan-pandangan kami sebagai seorang Muslim, tetapi saya tidak terbayang akan berhubungan dengan apa. Saya kira mungkin akan dilihat kadar kegilaan saya sebagai manusia.

Setelah saya buka laman surveinya dan saya baca pertanyaan-pertanyaannya, ternyata berhubungan dengan konflik Israel dan Palestina. Sejujurnya, saya tidak tahu banyak tentang konflik tersebut. Mungkin karena sudah sangat lama berlangsung, semenjak saya bahkan belum peduli terhadap hal-hal di luar panggung sandiwara kecil saya. Bagi saya, konflik itu merupakan konflik yang ada. Begitu saja. 

Ah, tapi bukan itu yang ingin saya bahas. Yang ingin saya bahas adalah sebuah pertanyaan yang kemudian mengusik batin sehingga tergetar hati saya, dan membuat saya terpekur:

Apakah Anda menganggap diri Anda seorang Muslim?

Kira-kira begitulah pertanyaannya. Sebuah pertanyaan sederhana, yang jawabannya tidak sederhana bagi saya. Jika yang bertanya adalah anggota keluarga - baik itu keluarga inti maupun keluarga besar - tentu jawabannya adalah ya. Jika yang bertanya adalah teman-teman SMA saya yang kebanyakan anggota klub rohis, tentu jawabannya adalah ya. Malah, mungkin jika pertanyaan ini ditanyakan oleh sebagian besar orang, saya akan menjawab ya, saya menganggap diri saya seorang Muslim. Dengan jilbab di kepala, bukankah aneh jika saya menjawab tidak atau tidak tahu? Jilbab saya sudah meng-Islam-kan saya lebih dari KTP. Tidak perlu lihat KTP, dari jauh pun orang akan tahu saya Islam. Di sisi lain, jika yang bertanya adalah teman-teman kuliah saya yang terlalu banyak berfilosofi tentang eksistensi... yah, mungkin kami tidak akan membicarakan soal ini. Bagi kami, urusan manusia dengan Tuhannya bersifat pribadi. Tidak untuk dibahas; tidak untuk dipamerkan; tidak untuk dikomentari. Seorang Muslim fanatik, atau Kristen taat, atau Atheis sejati bukan urusan bagi kami karena kami hidup berdampingan secara damai dan sekuler.

Tapi jika saya membaca sendiri pertanyaan di atas dan saya coba menjawabnya sendiri, saya tidak bisa menjawabnya. Saya tidak mengerti di mana posisi saya sebagai umat Muslim. Saya kadang-kadang sholat, kadang-kadang tidak. Saya lebih sering tidak mengaji daripada mengaji. Saya tidak terlalu membatasi diri terhadap hal-hal yang dilabeli haram oleh agama. Lantas, apakah saya seorang Muslim? Ada juga saatnya saya tidak memiliki sandaran lain kecuali sosok Allah SWT. Ada saatnya saya menangis setelah sholat, istigfar berulang kali dengan segala doa yang tidak terucapkan. Tidak lupa, saya selalu menulis basmalah setiap awal menulis. Lantas, apakah saya seorang Muslim?

Apa syaratnya agar saya menganggap diri saya seorang Muslim?

Pertanyaan itu tadinya tidak pernah terpikirkan oleh saya, tetapi begitu muncul, saya jadi mempertanyakan lagi semua ke-Islam-an saya. Seberapa saya layak menyandang Islam di KTP dan seberapa saya layak memakai jilbab ini. Seberapa saya layak memandang kedua orang tua saya dan mengakui diri sebagai anak berbakti, atau seberapa saya layak merayakan lebaran.

Saya rasa saya belum bisa menemukan jawabannya, tetapi kapan pun jawaban itu akan datang, saya harap jawabannya akan ya kepada siapapun yang bertanya. 

After a long time...

You age well,
darling, like wine
I've no choice
but to dwell,
darling, so fine
you are so fine
Alas!
this fondness
is for you to quell,
darling, be mine
be mine

be mine

be mine

To Be or To Not Be

To start or to not start
To go forward or to stay still

To know or to not know
To say or to be silent

To explain or to not explain
To share or to keep

To try or to not try
To get hurt or to avoid

To live or to not live

To be happy or to not be happy

To be or to not be,

for I am on the brink
of collapsing.

Rambling

During the detour from pursuing my further study, I slowly lost my will to fight. I was not sure whether I should pursue it after all... I mean, I function just fine with my freelance work (except for days when I have no job order = no money). I actually enjoy translating movies and book, especially since I act as the boss/team leader of a small freelance translator group in a movie translation project. It is basically a combination of my favorite things: movies, translating, freelance work, good pay, and being in charge! However, I resigned from my office job partly because I wanted to pursue my Master's degree. I must not let it go to waste, mustn't I?

The truth is, I was on the verge of letting everything go and giving up on it. To my surprise, I kept going forward, as in I took the IELTS test... I contacted my lecturer who are studying Creative Writing abroad... I asked my goal-oriented, organized friend for an advice to stay on track... I scheduled my weeks for Googling and researching... and I did it all when I felt hopeless the most. I guess that just shows how truthfully, I do not want to let this go.

Fortunately, it turns out to be a good thing in the end. Now that I am already too involved in this, almost everything keeps me on track. For instance, I put off doing my essay for a scholarship because I find it too ambitious even for me, but apparently... to get my thesis advisor's recommendation letter, I still need to write the essay. Since I have already talked to her about it, I can't just retreat and forget the whole thing. Now I have to seriously work for it. 

Hap hap hap!

IELTS at IALF Jakarta #3

Writing

I like writing, and I enjoy familiarizing myself with many kinds of texts. Unfortunately, I have to admit that writing Academic text is not my strongest trait in the Writing universe. Therefore, the main reason I took this course was, actually, to learn more about the Writing section. This section was something completely new to me that even the concept of it was scary. English is not my native language, there are more rules in academic texts, and I did not know what would the test be like. Well, Andrew Smith once wrote "People fear what they don't understand", so now I'm here to share what I now know in order to (hopefully) help decrease that fear a bit!

Like other sections, you have one hour to finish it. There are exactly two passages you have to finish: the first one is 150 words long and usually based on a graph/map/process picture, while the second one is 250 words long, answering a question regarding your opinion. Anyway, I will not discuss the passages in this post because you can see the examples of the passages in common IELTS books. Instead, I'd love to share what I believe are important in the Writing section.

The first one, of course, you have to organize your ideas. During the one hour, spare approximately five minutes before starting with each passage. Try to list your main ideas. They do not have to be strictly followed, but it can help you see the key points you want to highlight in your writings. As a result, you can write your paragraphs more easily. The first passage usually consists of more or less three paragraphs whereas I like to make the second passage five paragraphs. For the second passage, you must always write the introduction and conclusion paragraphs (although sometimes, one introduction and one concluding sentences are enough). This does not apply to the first passage, where you can choose whether to write an overview (at the beginning of the passage) or the conclusion (at the end of the passage).

Second, you have to pay attention to your sentences. There are several things which can make your writing better, as told by my teachers and based on my experience. Those things include: (1) writing in both active and passive sentences, since it helps add variety to your passage as well as showcases your English understanding; (2) using which, where, who, whom, and when to help adding complex sentences, which brings up your score if used correctly; (3) making sure your subject-verb agreement is correct, which is a basic requirement even in simple sentences; and (4) making sure the tenses you use are correct, which includes understanding the time frame.

Third, also important is paraphrasing. You see, in the Writing sections, there are instructions/questions which basically give you the theme/topic of your writings. If you are confused about the introduction/overview, you can use those instructions/questions to help you with it. However, do not write it as it is; you have to paraphrase it. Do not copy the instruction/question word-by-word. Instead, change the sentence structure and use synonyms. This is important, not only in the IELTS Test Writing section, but also in any kind of academic texts.

Writing is not like mathematics, as in you do not get the exact correct number if you do the counting a certain way. Writing means formulating your own potion of words; there is a different mix for each one. Therefore, there is no guarantee that what you write in the test will get a perfect score. For instance, I have taken the IELTS test and I believed my Writing section was the best I had done so far (compared to the practices I did in class). I thought I did everything right, but it turned out the score was less than my expectation. I did not know where it went wrong, whether it was too simple, or probably there were some grammar mistakes... but at least I must have paid attention to the things I mentioned above because the result was still enough.

I have a lot to say about the Writing section because I think we, Indonesians, are not so accustomed to writing. As an ex-English teacher, I know that students these days are more fluent in speaking English than writing in English because they are more exposed to English conversation than English texts. This phenomenon does not only occur among teenagers, but also among my peers. Even my lecturer once complained that postgrad students had terrible writing skills. Therefore, I know how hard this section can be for us. Even I wrote this post with the help of Grammarly, which checks my grammar and pronunciation (highly recommended, Readers!).

Anyway, that's all I can say about what I think are important to note. I hope you enjoy reading this, despite the more serious tone compared to the two previous posts about the IELTS Test, as well as it is helpful for you! And, really, don't forget to pratice, practice, and pratice. As they say, practice makes perfect! (Trust me, it worked on my Listening section).

Till next time!

Only As Much

Deliver it by mail

Or deliver it by speech

Or deliver it by codes

Or maybe you'd prefer

To deliver it by look

These words had to be delivered

They had to fall on your lap

Bless you with a slap

That says

Permission is not granted

For you to get away

Like nothing ever happened

And rather than aesthetic

I choose my poison plain

Since I can only say as much

There are days like this...

...when I want to just give up.
On love.
Goals.
Life.

Days like this come right after days that feel right.
Days that feel bright.
Perfect.
Joyful.

They just come and burn
Things that I thought were mine.
That I thought were safe.
Sound.

They leave me with ashes.
They leave me unchecked.
They leave me broken and wounded and everything sad
and that is why.

On days like this
I want to just give up.
On possibilities.

Merindu Buku Tertutup

Hai. Selamat pagi. Kamu terlihat bagus dengan baju itu. Ini sebungkus rokok yang kamu pesan. Tidak, rambutmu terlihat baik-baik saja. Jangan khawatir. Tidak ada yang aneh dengan rambutmu. Tidak, kamu tidak boleh merokok, tapi karena ini mobilmu, jadi semua terserah padamu. Aku cemas perjalanan ini akan banyak diisi dengan diam. Aku benar-benar tidak tahu akan membicarakan apa denganmu.

Ternyata kekhawatiranku tidak beralasan. Aku lupa kamu adalah orang yang punya segudang hal untuk dibicarakan. Kamu, orang yang dilahirkan untuk berada di atas panggung; bahkan jika panggung itu hanya memiliki satu penonton. Aku. Kamu pikir kita cocok menjadi penyiar radio? Kadang aku bertanya-tanya apa kamu menyadari tatapan orang terhadap kita. Apa kamu memikirkan hal yang sama denganku. Apa kamu juga sadar teman-temanku akan diam-diam mensyukuri kita semobil, akan menyadari aku senang berdua denganmu. Apa yang ada dalam pikiranmu?

Kamu lapar? Kita harus mencari tempat sarapan dulu. Silakan saja berhenti di Rest Area itu. Aku tidak lapar, tapi aku haus. Baiklah, aku akan menunggu di toko kelontong. Sudah? Sudah siap mencari makan? Kamu mau roti Starbucks? Tidak? Bagaimana dengan roti di toko kelontong? Kamu tidak mau roti? Mungkin mau beli gorengan? Oh, kamu mau mie ayam. Silakan saja beli. Aku tidak lapar. Minuman ini untukku? Lihat betapa berubahnya kamu sejak empat atau lima tahun lalu kita saling mengenal. Apa kamu sadar betapa manisnya yang kamu lakukan ini?

Mari kita berangkat lagi. Aku tidak tahu kenapa aku membicarakan dia. Tadinya ini pembicaraan yang menyenangkan, tapi kamu membuatnya menjadi seperti sidang bagiku. Kamu benar, aku memang menjadikan dia tolak ukur. Kamu benar, aku merasa rendah diri darinya. Kamu benar, meski berat bagiku untuk mengakui itu. Apalagi terhadapmu. Haruskah kamu mengatakan itu? Haruskah kamu memaparkan aku pada perasaan-perasaan buruk yang ingin aku kubur? Aku tahu ini caramu untuk membangkitkan semangatku. Tapi itu pukulan yang keras bagiku karena kamu tidak tahu bagaimana perasaan itu bermula.

Oh, hai. Halo. Senang rasanya bertemu orang lain, tapi jangan berjalan lebih dulu. Aku ingin tetap bersamamu. Tapi aku juga tidak mau terlihat terlalu lengket denganmu. Kurasa itu sebabnya aku terus mendebatmu.

Aku mau pulang. Sungguh, tidak harus denganmu, tapi barang-barangku ada di mobilmu. Kalau kamu masih mau bersama yang lain, aku sungguh tidak apa-apa. Lihat? Seseorang bahkan menawariku pulang bersamanya. Aku tidak apa-apa. Baiklah, kamu juga mau pulang. Aku perlu pulang sekarang. Aku harus pergi lagi. Kamu kapan mau pulang? Apa lebih baik aku pulang sendiri? Tidak? Baiklah, kalau begitu, ayo pulang sekarang. Aku mendapati debat denganmu ini lucu. Tapi aku sungguh harus pulang. Baik, ayo pulang sekarang. 

Untuk apa, tanyamu? Aku membawa tas besar ini karena kukira tidak mungkin kamu mau langsung pulang. Aku sudah siap pulang naik kereta. Tapi terima kasih sudah mengantarku pulang. Kurasa kamu memang berbeda. Perasaanku terhadapmu memang berbeda daripada yang kurasakan untuk mereka. Tapi... bagaimana? Kamu adalah buku yang sudah kututup bertahun-tahun lalu. Aku rindu. Sangat rindu. Aku merindukan semuanya darimu. Tapi membuka kembali buku yang sudah tertutup mengundang sakit. Apa kamu sepadan dengan sakitnya? 

The Girl's Journey

A girl wandered in a forest when the sun had set. She was lost. She knew she had been with her friends, but they all took their own paths and head to different directions. She did not know how she ended up there. In fact, she did not even remember her name and where she came from. She only remembered a name: Happiness. It belonged to her friend. Thus, the girl set out to find her way back to her friend.

The forest was dark and full of tall trees. They blocked her view and her path. The girl observed the trees and hoped to find a thing or two which she could use as a marker. She could not tell the North from the South or the East from the West. She could not read the stars. She was not supposed to be there. But she was brave, so she still gave it a try although she had nothing to help her survive. She took the first step forward.

Dry leaves carpeted the ground, and the sound she made when stepping on them made her shudder. She kept walking. It was not very long before she encountered someone. She saw him at first, talking to himself. He sounded satisfied. He pointed at the trees circling him. His hands moved in a way that indicated he was measuring something. Then, he nodded several times. She greeted him and introduced herself. He replied and said his name was Acceptance. 

The girl did not remember him, but she suspected he was one of her friends. Otherwise, why would anyone be in a forest alone? She asked him if he knew Happiness. “Sure I do,” he answered boastfully. “I am very close with her.” The girl was glad to hear that. She asked him how to find her. She explained that she was very close with her, too. Upon hearing this, Acceptance gave her an appraising look. “Then you must know that to find her is to be accepted by everyone,” he snorted. She asked him how she would know if she was accepted. “It is easy. When no one can find a thing to criticize from you, you are accepted,” he stated rather brusquely, “and you have to fit in.”

He gestured to the trees. “You see these trees?” The girl nodded. “They are strikingly similar to each other. That is how you know they belong to this forest. Different trees have no place here; which is actually a good thing because if they were here, they would ruin the harmony of this forest.” He took a short pause before appraising her again. “You are not similar to me. If you must find Happiness, go along this way and find someone else. Maybe you will have better luck,” he said dismissively.

The girl continued her journey. As she pondered upon everything Acceptance had said, she noticed that, indeed, the forest looked beautifully lined up with similar trees as far as her eyes could see. She had never really thought about the beauty of fitting in, but now that she did, her heart was expectant to see people with whom she was similar. Therefore, when she bumped into the next person, she felt a bit discouraged.

There was nothing similar between her and the restless man. He moved from one tree to the next in an extraordinary speed and eagerness. She called out to him and introduced herself. He ignored her at first, as he was so absorbed in going back and forth and taking notes, but finally acknowledged the girl’s presence. She apologized and introduced herself before asking if he knew Acceptance and Happiness. “Of course, I am Curiousness. I wanted to know everyone, so now I know everyone,” he answered pompously. She told him what Acceptance had told her, and asked him if he knew anyone similar with her. “That bloke is nonsensical. If you want to find Happiness, you have to indulge yourself in, and devote yourself to, knowledge. You have to have the thirst for it,” he said with the utmost certainty, “and everyone who had found Happiness had it.” She asked him what it meant. 

“Say, when you arrived, did you see what I did with the trees? Of course, you did,” he did not wait for the girl to answer. “I devote myself to the knowledge of the trees. I know what every layer of a tree trunk means, what color is the tree trunk, and what color is the leaves. I know that the trees have roots and branches. And I take notes so I will not forget.” The girl, being so simple-minded, failed to understand, so she asked Curiousness what to do with the knowledge he had gathered. However, Curiousness decided that he was done with her. He waved his hand to a footpath behind the trees. “Pursue Education. She knows what to do with it. You’d better hurry; she left hours ago.”

And so the girl ran down the path. She did not know what Education looked like, but she had to run to catch up. Otherwise, she would fall too far behind. It was in the midst of running that she stumbled across someone who was collecting fruits. The girl asked her if Education had passed this way. “Education?” The fruit-collector was startled. “You will never stop running if you pursue her.” The girl explained what Curiousness had told her. She mentioned Happiness and Acceptance, too. “Well, she passed my route,” the fruit-collector explained, “and she taught me about fruits.” As she said this, she showed the girl some of the deliciously red and round fruits. The girl almost took one of them when they were pulled outside her reach. The fruit-collector snarled, “You have to pay if you want one. Nothing is free. I was the one who collected them, so you have to pay for my efforts.” The girl argued that it meant Education had a right to a part of the payment, too, considering she was the one who taught her about fruits. “Well, Education taught me indeed, but then she left. I was the one who came up with the idea to collect them!” she answered so defensively that the girl did not have the courage to argue further. “She passed my route and paid with knowledge. Besides, what is the use of Education if you get no profit from it?”

The girl, upon seeing that the fruit-collector was most likely not interested in her journey and Happiness, decided to leave. But before she left, she asked for her name. “My name is Stability,” she answered simply, before adding, “remember: what is important is not to pursue Education. It is to get money. Money guarantees your life. People like you if you work because you are not a burden for them. I am not a burden to you, but you could be a burden to me if you take my fruits without paying.”

The girl took off again, this time with knitted eyebrows. She was rather shocked to find the conflicting reasons. Her head started to hurt. If there was a positive upside from her encounter with Stability, it was that she now recognized the red blinking lights behind the thick leaves, mirroring the flickering of the stars. She had not realized there were so many fruits on the trees. Thank goodness; just in time, her stomach began growling with hunger! She could not reach even the lowest fruit hanging from the branch, so she climbed one of the trees. The girl was out of breath by the time she picked a fruit at last and silently understood why Stability had insisted for her to pay.

Long after she had done eating, the girl rested on the wide branch. Her mind drifted away, so it surprised her to hear a song sung so close, so suddenly. She looked down and found a pair of eyes staring directly at her. “Hello, what are you musing about? My name is Love.” The girl introduced herself. She explained her purpose and all the advice given to her. “You silly girl, you take the long way if you listen to them,” Love laughed. She was so carefree and bright that the girl was bedazzled. She wished she could be more like her. “Listen to me,” Love said. “You just need to find love. Love leads to Happiness, directly, via the freeway!” And as she spoke, her hand gestured to a smooth road the girl had yet to see in the midst of the forest. 

That road was starkly different from the closed and tight ones she had taken. This one was not surrounded by tall trees; instead, bushes of flowers stood proudly. There were no dry leaves on the road. The girl could see the stars and the moon very clearly and she felt calmer. The road was so pretty and seemingly harmless that she was certain Love spoke the truth.

She ran and ran and ran and believed she would find Happiness at the end of the road, but when she arrived, she found that it was deserted, except for an uptight looking man. She thought he might know if Happiness was there. She told him what Love had told her, and the man scowled. “Do not trust Love blindly. There is no such thing as a freeway to Happiness,” he said, so she told him about Acceptance, Curiousness, Education, and Stability. He took his time before answering: “I am Security and I am not sure about the correct path to Happiness, but just to be safe... why don’t you just do all that you have been advised to do?” She asked him to elaborate.

“Be a little similar to everyone in order to be accepted. Have a little thirst for knowledge just in case. Pursue Education up to a certain degree, only to satisfy your curiosity. Stop if you want a little stability. Work. Love a little!” he exclaimed. The girl opened her mouth to ask more, but Security cut her off. “Now, off you go. I do not have the time to help others. I have to ensure my own safety and do everything they also tell me to do!”

The girl scuttered away in a rush. If Security did not have the time, what made her think she had? How long had Security been there? How late was she? By the time the deserted road ended, she was so tired and the night was so dark that she was frightened of everything. She arrived in an empty meadow and began to regret having started her journey at all. The advice only made her more and more confused. She doubted her purpose as she felt more and more distant from the memory of Happiness, so she cried.

The girl cried for what seemed like ages, but probably only a few hours, and wailed. She was lonely and exhausted and troubled, and the night was not helping. The moon and the stars were too far away to cheer her up. That was why she was taken aback when, between her tears, she saw someone approaching. She wiped her eyes. Before her stood a woman, older than any of the people she had met although not by far, offering her hand. The girl took it and stood. 

“Why are you crying?” the woman asked. The girl told her everything: Happiness, Acceptance, Curiousness, Education, Stability, Love, Security. And that she was lost. She felt even more lost than before.

“Do not give me advice,” the girl begged, “for it will only leave me perplexed.”

The woman chuckled. “I will not because I cannot.”

“What do you mean?” The girl asked, puzzled.

“The path to Happiness differs for everyone. It is not a simple set of steps,” the woman explained. “Being accepted is what you should seek if you do not like being criticized, or maybe you would prefer to pursue education instead if you devote yourself to knowledge. Working may be great for you if you do not like being short of money and profit, but love is what you should be after if you like the bright presence of a company. Security leads you to a sense of safety, which sometimes comes along with Happiness. However, more often than not, your friend Happiness is far from him.”

“Was he lying, then?” The girl felt like a fool.

“No, of course not. He just could not recognize the face of Happiness because he was no more certain than you were. He kept going even without certainty—and it is not wrong, mind you—but I do not think you are looking for a life like his. Security has nothing to complain, and he is completely satisfied with his choices, but his way of life is not for you.”

“How do you know?” The girl inquired.

“I see it in your eyes... because Happiness has marked you. What you seek is an intense and fierce Happiness. A Happiness found in the essence of being.”

The woman smiled when she saw the girl gave her a blank look.

“Close your eyes, Little Girl, and I will guide you to Happiness.” She held the girl’s hands. When their skin touched, the girl felt waves and waves of emotion surged towards her. Memories flooded her mind; of her first breath, of her first exposure to the air, of her first cry to the world. Of her first walk, of her first word, of her first song. On and on and on it went, before finally the memory of her first introduction to Happiness arrived. Something clicked inside her, and the girl opened her eyes. 

There she was, her friend Happiness... so beautiful and brilliant that it almost blinded her. Morning had come, and the knots in her heart had been untied.

The girl’s eyes met the woman’s and she whispered, “Thank you.”

“Never mind,” the woman answered. “You are bound to meet me, after all.”

“Who are you?” the girl asked.

The woman smiled again. “My name is Wisdom, and you would have never met me had you not gone on the journey you took. Happiness had been inside you all along. You just need to be reminded.”

fin

IELTS at IALF Jakarta #2

Listening

I have always been aware that Listening is my weakness. Even in the paper-based TOEFL test where the questions are explicit, my Listening score was always the lowest compared to the two other sections. Unfortunately for me, the IELTS Listening section is more implicit. Oh, they are not all implicit; at the first and second parts, the questions are pretty explicit (as in you can actually hear the question stated). The problem lies in the third and last part, where paraphrases and changes in the sentence structure are everywhere.

When I was taking the course, I observed that most people start making mistakes in the last two parts. Of course, this is something that doesn't need to be observed--some of you must think "You don't say." Oddly enough, that was not the case for me. I made more or less the same amount of mistakes during the first two and the last two parts. Somehow I always missed that one bit where they stated the answer. It could be that I was too sleepy to concentrate, but if so, it was not something I can fix (except by getting enough sleep before the test). However, I'm not here to write about this.

If you are normal, unlike me, and are in the perfect condition to take the test, there are actually some things you can do to help your Listening section. The credit goes to my teachers, for sure, because I was not aware of this before they told me: the first thing you have to do is to make sure you understand what is asked by the task. What it asks for. When I was an English Studies student, it didn't matter how I write the answer as long as it is correct. On the contrary, in the IELTS test, it is important to follow the instruction precisely. This is basic know-how in life and at work, but this is so basic that sometimes we are careless about it. Or could it be that we just like to rebel because "rules are meant to be broken"?

Anyway, the second thing you have to do is to spot possible paraphrases and misguiding information. The one thing I like about the IELTS test is how the Listening section sounds natural, far more than the listening recordings I have listened to during my student days. As challenging as it is, I think it gives us an example of how real conversation takes place; how sometimes people do not straightforwardly say what we need to hear, or what information we need to get. Hence, the paraphrases and misguiding information. 

Lastly, we have to pay attention to details. Again with the details! Details are extremely important in the IELTS test. That one -s/-es behind a plural noun can decide whether or not your answer is correct. You have to be so focused to avoid missing anything. 

As I mentioned earlier, Listening section in any kind of test was always challenging for me. In the IELTS test, especially, I have to be able to think instead of 'wait' for the correct answer to be stated. It is three brain processes at once: actually listening to the recording, reading the questions, and spotting (desperately) the possible changes in the sentence structure/paraphrases. Still, I liked that the recordings resemble real talk. After all, we cannot expect to find people speaking in short, clear, and simple sentences abroad, amirite? 

Taken from http://www.memegen.com/meme/pst8oo

All in all, I believe you should remember to get enough sleep and be sharp on the day of the test. Those alone can be a big help for you. Aside from them, I also think that it is crucial for you to set the limit of the mistakes you can make. I know that we cannot know for sure whether or not our answers are correct, but at the very least, we can be sure of some answers. Once you make a certain amount of mistake (for me, it's five, although I hope I won't make that many mistakes on the real test), tell yourself that you must not make any more mistake. You can no longer afford to make mistakes. This kind of determination is what usually saves me. Somehow it makes me more focused.

My teacher shared some of the websites we can visit to improve our listening skills: TED, English Listening Lesson Library Online (ELLLO), English Central, and BBC Learning English. I haven't tried visiting BBC Learning English, but the other three are helpful. My favorite one so far is English Central because, on the video I opened, there were on-screen texts with difficult words on which we can click and whose definition we can read.

You may ask, can we just listen to English songs? The answer is no. People do not talk in musical notes all the time. Songs cannot help you in real conversation. However, I am sure songs help enriching our vocabulary (if we take the time to look up the meaning of the words). Anyway, instead of listening to songs, I believe watching movies and TV series without subtitles will help us more. Whereas the aforementioned websites help us with our academic lexical resource, movies and TV series help us with the daily vocabulary.

That is all I can write about the Listening section. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as it is helpful for you.

Till next time!

IELTS at IALF Jakarta #1

Many of my peers these days plan to pursue higher education abroad. The popular target countries include the U.K. and Australia. To be able to get in the universities in those countries, we--as the citizens of non-English speaking country--have to take a language requirement test. There are several kinds of tests, one of which is IELTS.

I decided to resign from my office job to take a two-week IELTS course at IALF Jakarta. My friends, who have taken the IELTS test as well as fellow graduates from English Studies program, told me that I do not need to take the course. It will be basically the same with what we have learned during our study. Also, because I work as a translator/interpreter, I would find it a piece of cake. I am, however, a natural worrywart, and I worried about my writing skills since I had not written any academic essays/paragraphs for so long after college. Thus, I made up my mind and signed up for it.

Originally, I thought I took the course simply for the extra writing practice. It surprisingly turned out to be so much more than that. I actually felt happy and satisfied by the time the course was finished. Of course, it would be a waste if I just store away my notes and leave it just like that without making much use of it. Thus, for my sake and the sake of anyone who probably read this, I would like to share some of the tips I got from my teachers at IALF. Before we start, I hope you enjoy reading this as well as I enjoyed writing it!

Reading
I have read lots of novels and popular articles, but they are totally different from academic texts! Of course, the vocabulary sets are different; moreover, the texts in IELTS test are the ones with questions. Having to answer the questions to test our comprehension of the text is something I find especially difficult because most of the times I just read carelessly through my chosen reading list. I never had to worry about the main idea of a paragraph, not to mention the paraphrases. Unfortunately, I have to be aware of those things in facing the reading test.

For this, one of my teachers actually gave me some helpful tips: (1) you have to use your scanning skill and read the text quickly. It really helps you to grasp the general idea of the text. At least, you can familiarize yourself with some of the words you might find on the questions. (2) You have to highlight the details, but what are the details? The details of a text include names, dates, places, and numbers. Highlighting them serves as something like the search tool on your e-Book. Your brain remembers that you have highlighted it, and looking for those details shall be a lot easier than ever. Lastly, (3) you have to look at the questions. These tips are not written in order, so you can do whichever first. My lecturer once told me to read the questions first to understand what you have to look for. However, reading the questions after you have done the previous two steps is also okay. The important thing is to do it in the most comfortable and efficient for you.

There are not many tips for reading, but these tips are more or less sufficient for reading and understanding academic texts (not limited to an IELTS test!). It goes without saying that reading practice is a must, and if there is one thing I realize after taking the course, it is that we have to have a wide range of vocabulary. As my teacher said, improving our vocabulary is not something we can do within a fortnight. Therefore, if you really want to improve yourself, I suggest you start by reading lots and lots of things--from reading articles and novels. You can also sign up for a newsletter from websites like Grammarly.com or Buzzfeed's Quibbles and Bits. I signed myself up for them and they are truly helpful.

Anyway, that is the end of my short and (definitely not) thorough recapitulation of what I've learned about the reading test. I will write about the other three parts in my next posts, for I fear they will be too long for one post.

Till next time!

Update:
A reader pointed out to me that the IELTS test often used articles from The Economist or The New Scientist. He shared the following links because they provided the PDF version of New Scientist magazine:

The Economist - 2 July 2016
http://banquyensoftware.com/english/the-economist-2-july-2016.html

The New Scientist - July 2, 2016
http://banquyensoftware.com/english/the-new-scientist-july-2-2016.html

Otherwise, you can just open The Economist and/or The New Scientist websites.

God, have mercy...

...for every time I closed my eyes, I saw that dream. So strong was it that it made my heart pounding with longing. Thoughts would be racing, trying to convince me of their existence, and actually succeeding. I would be left hanging, out of breath, knowing nothing to do... because the dream was not something I could realize so easily, so soon.

It was something bigger than me, something I was too scared to pronounce, something I was too shy to imagine. So strong was it that it made me lose sleep and my mind occupied. 

Possibilities, possibilities, possibilities ran back and forth, tempting, luring me in, enslaving me and turning me vulnerable. It was bigger than me; it always has been. It always had that frightening and thrilling charm, and before it, I was a middle school girl all over again, believing I can, believing I should, believing this is worth everything I've got.

God, have mercy because I am afraid to be broken. God, help me because this is worth all the treasure in the world to try. God, bless me because this might be the only thing I have ever truly longed for... because this is the dream for which my heart beats differently from any other wishes and prayers I have ever sent to You.

And I'm writing this out because my heart just can't take it anymore and this is a concept too great for my brain to process.  

Thoughts I Had When Watching "Captain America: Civil War" (2016)

(This post is completely subjective and not professional. Contains spoilers.)

1. I never really liked Steve Rogers/Captain America. What a goody two-shoes. So righteous.

2. Despite the great opening action scene, I didn't get the feel of the movie. 

3. Probably it was because I was exhausted when I watched this.

4. Tony Stark's sarcastic humor was not as sharp as usual--still adequate, but not as satisfying.

5. I forgot this wasn't an Avengers movie.

6. Somehow I didn't like Wanda/Scarlet Witch.

7. They should've emphasized the importance of the peace treaty or something like that more. 

8. I like Black Panther. He's like this wise character the Avengers needed (since none of them was).

9. Couldn't help but think of Thor and how this must be trivial for him.

10. I like Scar-Jo. Black Widow was always cool.

11. Didn't think of Hulk until he was mentioned.

12. Who's that kid? What, Spiderman!?

13. Tony Stark definitely looked tired and worn out the whole time.

14. I didn't like Capt, but Bucky was great. Poor Bucky.

15. Where the fuck did the Doctor come from?

16. Zemo was the only person I hate more than Capt. America.

17. Oh, Martin Freeman!

18. I could not dislike Paul Rudd since Friends, hence the love for Ant-Man.

19. Oh, they're fighting. What a cute Spider-ling.

20. "What an eagle vision," when Vision spotted Capt and Bucky approaching the jet. Pun intended.

21. Poor Tony Stark.

22. Despite him being wrong, I'm still #TeamIronMan.

23. Can't believe Bucky did that to Tony's parents. Poor, brainwashed Bucky.

24. I hated the Capt almost immediately. Gosh, he's so nosy and frustrating.

25. Everyone was okay but him. And Zemo.

26. Zemo's motivation was... not strong enough? It was kind of forced.

27. The end of the movie was near, what was the point of the whole movie??????

28. Seriously, tell me. This was almost aimless.

29. The conflict was there, the team divided, but the reason was a bit forced?????

30. Shocked because the plot was actually simple.

31. There was nothing strong in the plot.

32. This movie was a total bridge. I need to see the next sequel.

33. Just realized I never really liked Captain America movies. The second was fun, but the first was totally out of question. Wouldn't have watched it had I not seen the second one.

34. Capt, you have a big heart to be able to offer help for Tony. Doesn't mean I like you.

/æ/

Why do you stare?






What do you care?






Which of my reaction are you after?






Have you ever thought this is more than I can bear?






From my life, you will I spare






Sorry for me, don't you dare







At least I hate your hair






And it makes these all fair

Erasing Regrets with "Orange"

Courtesy of image: Google

Orange is a short manga created by Takano Ichigo published in 2012. The story revolves around a group of friends who received a letter from their future selves, telling them to erase the regrets related with the death of their friend in common. Bittersweet; both the plot and the tone of the drawings used by the mangaka contributed to the beauty of the story.

My friend introduced me to Orange. She said that it was cool and all, and it was short, so it wouldn't take much of my time to finish it. It was indeed short, consisting of only 22 chapters (compare it with Naruto--about 700 chapters!), and indeed, it didn't take me more than half a day to devour it. What she didn't tell me was how sad this would be and how it would affect me in ways I had not expected.

Because the main characters were high school students, and the story started with this main female character who received letter from her future self--for God's sake--I thought, "Ah, this would be another typical shoujo manga." It would be sweet, and it would be full of love, vigorous. Very much like Proposal Daisakusen (dorama, 2007). However, soon it was proven otherwise, as the story took a rather dark twist with suicidal potential.

Well, I won't spoil the story. You really should read it for yourselves if you're a fellow masochistic, who likes to abuse your own feelings, because this book will bring you to tears. My friend actually has a great advice to read this: grab your blanket, cover yourself, and read it alone. Of course, do not read it at the office. Seriously, who is stupid enough to read a melancholic story at the office??? Where people could see them cry??? I was dumb.

Anyway, because it's me, what I want to share is the message I thought this manga tried to convey. After reading it, it occurred to me that probably this was about how to be more sensitive to people with depression. Those main characters were high school students; for sure their main concern was themselves. They were living the time of their life. Unfortunately, the fleeting happiness of high school turned into regrets for them in the future. They tried to erase those regrets, to save their friend, from the inevitable death. Hence, the letters.

The way they treat this certain friend changed after receiving the letters. They became more sensitive to his feelings, his action, his choices. . .and they became wary with how they behave around him because it could affect him ever so slightly. They encouraged and supported him. I believe this is important.

As a loud and straightforward person, I realized I may have overlooked someone's voice. I was not sure of what had happened to me, but somehow I turn out to be a person who expects other people to be as 'loud' as me; to be as straightforward and honest with their wants and needs. I don't think being myself is wrong, but I do believe I have to listen more. There's more than meets the eyes.

After all, even if you don't save someone from depression, at the very least you can make the day a happy day for people. You don't want to regret it sometimes in the future.

5/5 for Takano Ichigo for turning a 22 chapters ride into a simultaneously beautiful and meaningful reading!

As cheesy as it may be, this post is dedicated to you

The term 'best friend' does not come easy for me. Oftentimes, I associate it with cheesiness, irrational sense of belonging, dependency, excessive display of exclusivity, and even worse... burden. I do not trust people who so easily declare that they are best friends. Therefore, it had taken me a long time before I finally accepted the fact that I consider the two of you as my best friends. Ugh, it sounds cheesy even now.

But I don't mind, because that's what best friends do: being exceptional. Being special.

Why the sudden change of mind, you ask?

Well, you are not my best friends because we are always together. Neither are we best friends because we are always happy without any slight of disappointment. We are most definitely not best friends just because we have known each other for long.

No.

I can give you cheesy reasons here.

Like how we are best friends because we can be silly together. . .

Or because we traveled together (which of course, a reason more appropriate for the two of you, excluding me, since you really are travel-buddies).

              

Or because you have been there when I was still in this awkward teen-turn-adult phase. . .

Or because you have been there on my biggest moments. . .

But for me, we are best friends because you keep staying for me to come back, welcoming me with warm friendship, despite the times I drifted apart. And I am forever grateful for that. Thank you. It is more than I could imagine asking from someone. And you make me see that being best friends does not necessarily mean we have to stick together all the time or we have to exclusively hang around the three of us - you make me see that 'best friends' go deeper than that: it is as long as we trust we will always be there for each other, especially when we need it the most.

I may not be generous with my words, and this whole post may sound flat, but I know you know how much I value this friendship.

So here's to years we've shared and the years to come.

May we stay best friends against all odds.

I love you.

Let me embarrass us.

Ken & Irina

"I don't like it here," she whispered.

"Again?" I asked. It had been a long time since she called me. There must be something really wrong for her to call me out like this.

"They hate me, don't they?" she rhetorically asked, "They hate my family?"

"Irina..."

She shushed me. She knew my answer; it was a question she often asked, an issue she often raised when we were younger. When she met me. You know nothing; it had been truly heart-breaking. It was the first time she lost her trust. The first time she feared her surrounding. The first time she was afraid to make mistakes. The first time she felt she was challenged by a mountain called 'family'. The time she were friends with Freya.

 

"Is it Freya?" I asked.

 

"No. You know she was never the reason I called you!" Irina hissed, upset.

 

Oh, but I know. She might never wanted to admit it, but I knew she was always jealous of Freya. She was insecure. She could not risk herself looking bad in front of Freya, the flower of the family--loved, happy, beautiful, kind. She was all the things Irina couldn't be. At least, not according to her. If you asked me, I say Irina is perfect. She could not see that, and secretly I was relieved. She would not need me had she felt content with herself.

Anyway, because she said it was not Freya, I tried my second guess.

"Aunt Nora, then?"

 

Silence.

 

"Yes," she whispered, spiteful.

 

"Spit it out," I commanded her. I was there to take her hatred, her anger, her grudge. I kept them and treasured them. I would do anything to take that spite out of her voice. She must be happy. She must be cheerful. She must stand proud.

 

"Aunt Nora hates my family. She hates my father. She hates his children. She even hates her own sister!" Irina cried. "No. No, no, no... No. Not that."

 

She looked at me and pierced me with her hurtful eyes. 

 

"She despises us. She thinks we are lowly... she thinks we are not worthy," she mumbled.

 

I listened.

 

"But we are worthy. We are not superficial. We are humans. We are not bound to her irrational need of respect. We are not parts of her hierarchical little world," she continued. Tell me, I encouraged her. She needed to be encouraged. Keep telling me. Go on. 

 

"Oh, Ken, but this world is hers. She controls the family. Everyone listens to her and we are the odd ones out. She controls, yes, she controls. She commands, and she gets what she wants. She wants to be respected, but doesn't she deserve it? She's the oldest in the family, after all," Irina whimpered. No, no, no. You know that's not true, I whispered.

 

"Yes, that is not true. She cannot just be mad at us and scolded us. Who does she think she is? She cannot control us, she is nobody. She cannot sneered at us in front of her friends! She is a part of the old world. She thinks because her husband is some descendant of an ancient royalty, she becomes a royalty. Hahaha. No. I cannot forgive her for scolding my mother in front of everyone like that just because we came to her house at noon! There was no deal we should come in the morning... she is not smart, she is not smart, she is not rational. She is just a tool with power."

 

A glimpse of shock came across her face. "But, my mother! I feel guilty for hating her sister like that. She will be sad. No, she is already sad because the endless feud between Dad and Aunt Nora. Mother will be the saddest person in the world. I cannot do this to her."

 

If only Irina was not made of pure kindness, she would not be torn. I was about to answer when someone knocked on the door.

 

"Irina?"

 

She gasped. "Who is that!?"

 

"Irina, what are you doing?" The person behind the door raised her voice.

"Mom?" she asked.

"Open the door. Have you greeted the whole family?"

 

Her mother sounded alarmed. I told her I must go. I heard the knock. 

 

"No! No, you can't go. Not like this," she begged me. 

 

"Irina! Open this door right now!" her mother practically yelled.

 

I told her she could call me anytime she wanted. 

"You know as well as I do, you will not come unless things like this happen," she fiercely snapped.

I felt a pang of guilt, and I could not defend myself. I was not always available. She did not always need me. I had explained it to her, but she wouldn't understand. I totally got it. She needed to talk now, not later. Later, I would be nowhere to found.

"IRINA!"

"Don't go, Ken!" she sobbed.

 

But I could not stay longer. 

*

 

"What are you doing!?"

 

Irina finally opened the door for her mother.

 

"Have you greeted the family?"

 

"I have, Mom. You saw me."

Her mother crossed her arms in front of her chest. "I just want to confirm. Why are you here?"

"Nothing, Mom," she answered. 

"Have you been crying?" her mother asked.

"I have not," Irina lied.

"I know you have." Her mother spoke more gently. "Have you been speaking to Ken?"  

Irina did not answer.

Her mother held her chin and forced Irina to look into her eyes.

"Have you or have you not been speaking to Ken?"

Irina knew the answer would disappoint her mother. She knew she would never get the right answer. Speaking to Ken was forbidden. She would be dragged away back to the hospital if her mother knew.

But her mother had to know. Her mother already knew, anyway. Otherwise, she would not even ask.

"I have."

 

"I know," her mother sighed, "I heard her."

The tension that followed was unbearable for both of them. There was long silence before Irina finally said she was sorry. Her mother stood awkwardly. She had wanted to turn her back on her own daughter because she was extremely mad, but she also wanted to hug Irina. She wanted to protect her. She believed she had failed.

She had failed if every time, Irina ran back to Ken for help.

"Irina," her mother began, "what I am about to say... you must have understood it."

Irina nodded. She understood. Hundreds of times had her mother explained it to her.

"You have me. You have your father. You have your little brother."

Irina nodded again. 

"Don't..."

Her mother bit her lip, doubtful.

 

"I don't know how to say this." 

 

Irina welcomed her with a cold wrath.

 

"Don't call Ken every time. I don't want to deal with her again. No. I can't deal with her."

 

Pause.

 

"Irina... you are my daughter. Not her. I need you. I want you," her mother said with such finality that Irina could not help but to ask defiantly, "What's your point?"

 

Her mother broke into tears. 

"Irina... Ken lives in your head. How many times do I have to repeat myself?"

Again?

Seriously, what is it with you? In an alternate universe, we could probably be the greatest team that the world has ever seen (yeah, I know, I make a reference to One Direction's song). I mean, look at us. Even people who didn't know us well at least knew how close we were. How we bickered and then made up. How you teased me and then kept coming around. Our friends knew the story of me and you and our biggest fight. How I was mad as hell and you were too, but you stayed beside me and fought me, for goodness sake, and I cried but you stayed. You were there the whole time. We got closer every time we fought and made up, and I thought I would be the only one who think so, but then you acknowledged it. How great was that?

We were a team, though probably not the greatest. Yet, came the doomed, unfortunate day when my feelings were stronger than my reason, and I put a closure on it. After that, we were never the same. We were friends, still, but we stopped being a team. You found yourself a girlfriend, I found myself a company. It was us writing our new stories. You may ask me why, or you may not, but between us... there was never a possibility. You made it pretty clear.

So, what is it with you? Times have passed, your girlfriend stays while my doomed, unfortunate company left, and we don't even talk anymore. Why do you come back in a form of, despite being vivid, unreal memory that mercilessly washes over me when I sleep? In this universe, we are done. Perhaps the you in my dream would like to find me and our possibility in our alternate universe? Either way, stop sneaking into my head like this and leave me hanging. By the way, I know that dream, according to Freud, is a kind of sublimation for suppressed id. That might be me and my longing for something I cannot really specify since I don't even know what it is--that might be it, and it takes its form in you. However, that notion is so unromantic, and I decided that you are not a Freudian effect. I prefer it was you who sneaked into my mind.

 

But still, STOP. I love you, but it's not worth it. 

My Hogwarts House

Not exactly a Potterhead, but who doesn't like Harry Potter? I've always been proud of my bold and daring quality and of the fact that I've always been sorted into Gryffindor whenever I took the Sorting Hat Quiz at the web. . .but when I took the official one at Pottermore, it turned out I'm a Slytherin!

Now, I know - Slytherin is considered the evil house! With Voldemort and Malfoy being the graduates of Slytherin, not to mention Crabbe and Goyle and Pansy, it's hard to imagine someone wants to be a Slytherin. However, once sorted into it, I take pride in being a Slytherin. We are, after all, cunning, ambitious, resourceful, determined, and shrewd. And you cannot just forget Snape's sincerity and Malfoy's innocence (that's right - I think he's the one who's actually confused about what he wants in the whole series; we all have been there). Plus, despite being evil, Voldemort is actually brilliant. We have to admit that. He won't be the Dark Lord just by existing!

Anyway, here's to all proud Slytherin! 

Speaking (or writing!?) with a lighter tone

Hi! A quick update and an apologetic post.

I'm sorry for myself that I have spent so much time on gloomy stuff happening in a world larger than mine. I mean, I cannot do anything about it; not anytime soon, most definitely, so I've been wasting my time concerning the events out of my control. No, I'm not sorry for thinking and concerning about it; but I'm sorry because I spent too much time on it. But don't worry, I only do that whenever I read something annoying on the papers (which, tbh, is getting more frequent).

In real life, however, I am occupied with this new Kendall & Kylie game where my character aspires to go viral. That game is ridiculously entertaining, I know. I like the fashion and the customization, especially. Unfortunately, it keeps crashing. That's why I downloaded Stardom, an older version of similar game. So far, it has been nearly as satisfying as playing K&K.

I am also occupied with books, as usual. I've been rereading Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, rediscovering its magic. I'm also reading A Song of Ice and Fire (yep, still stuck at Book One even after I finished all the aired seasons). I intend to read Intelegensi Embun Pagi, a new book from a loved Indonesian writer: Dewi Lestari. I think tomorrow I'll buy it.

As for movies, I discover a gem in TV show: a telenovela called La Malquerida. Sure, everybody loves drama. Keeping Up With The Kardashians has provided enough drama, but nothing beats the original dramatic stage of telenovelas! Seriously, even Americans are now producing Telenovela the series, starring Eva Longoria. Uh, the perks of working in subtitling department. <3 I'm also considering to watch Scream Queens after its quite entertaining pilot episode. There are just too many TV series in this world to be tuned in to. 

My love life has been pretty dry since someone bailed (ghosted? is that the term they use today? am I right?) and for our tragic ending, he ended up being in a relationship with some girl. I will not depress myself by pondering over what the fuck is possibly wrong with me to have always been the one almost-not single. Seriously, everything else seems doable except finding a guy who will stick with me. It's either I like the wrong guys or I just can't keep them around.

Anyway, since I have nothing better to do, I'm figuring out myself and luckily ran into an old acquaintance who is now giving me the second job of my dream: a translator for fiction novels. Plus PLUS, she offers me the job of my dream: a fiction writer! She's an editor. I want to be an editor, too, but with an offer like that. . .how can I refuse? It's a path. In the midst of forests of confusion, who will refuse a path to escape? More than just an escape; a path to glory? No, I mustn't get ahead of myself. 

All in all, I'm too busy being in love with my life that I don't have time to love someone who is not there. Or there's simply no one to love, and so I channel my love into my life. Whatever. 

Random thought: I hope I can have a sense of humor like Deadpool. A bit dark and rude, but satisfying. 

Rereading Myself

Instead of rereading myself, I should've named the title "Rereading What I Wrote On My Previous Post." I wrote that piece while being mad, or, quoting myself, enraged about what is happening in Indonesia. Of course, it turned out to be an unprofessional, nonintellectual long rant that even I doubt the causes and effects mentioned were actually causal. Shouldn't have so easily related Indonesia's fear and hatred toward LGBTQ with Indonesia's forceful censorship on TV. My bad. I was naive and immature (I still can't guarantee I'm over that, but we all grow up everyday, and enough sleep always helps).

This is 2016, and it feels like London in 1988. How do I know it when I am still 23? Well, Alan Moore in 1988 voiced exactly what it feels like to be in a situation like this: "The government has expressed a desire to eradicate homosexuality, even as an abstract concept, and one can only speculate as to which minority will be the next legislated against." And if this general statement is not enough, he added a personal statement that also speaks for me: "I'm thinking of taking my family and getting out of this country soon, sometime over the next couple of years. It's cold and it's mean spirited and I don't like it here anymore." Although the family to which I refer would not be my husband and children, and Indonesia is definitely not cold, the rest of the sentence works well to describe what's been accumulating in my head. Thank you, Alan Moore, and your preface for V for Vendetta (1989). 

Indonesia has it more or less the same now with U.K. then. Only it was Christianity, not Islam, that stood as the grounding rule. As I have mentioned in my previous post, Abrahamic religions rule homosexuality as sinful. This newly discovered fact about which you can read all in Wikipedia (of course, if you're looking for some strong facts backed by evidence and legal historical record, never put your faith in Wikipedia--I have nothing against the page, but it is editable. Meaning anyone can alter the content. Helpful, but not reliable) makes me rethink of how public figures and much-publicized institutions shape religions in the eyes of the society. London was famous for its Christianity as well as Indonesia (or I should say, Jakarta and the surrounding areas) is famous for our Islam.

I don't know how people perceive these religions then and now, but I do know that it will be small wonder if there are people who think Islam is too dominant in Indonesia. I mean, the public figures and institutions here truly have no chill. Referring to (again) my previous post, I have described how it is here and now--childish instant reaction to things they don't understand. 

Anyway, I will not make this about religion. Religions are religions, with their set of rules. They are neither to be challenged nor are they to be altered to suit our own needs and wants. The only thing that sadly turns religions into reasons for judging other people is that they are open to interpretation. It just so happens that sometimes, the people who interpret it become the face of the religion--while in the process, smudging its purity and kindness.

Regarding the LGBTQ issue, because the authorities has called it out as sinful, there has been a publication from Indonesia Broadcasting Commission about the prohibition from displaying transgender women and related behavior on TV. A mosque for transgender community in Jogjakarta is closed. Hate speech mushroomed. An ex-minister tweeted a misinterpreted/incompletely interpreted hadith allowing the killing of transgender people. It is dangerous, what these public figures could do with their hastily shallow understanding about their own faith and their own people.

I said I will not make this about religion. However, it is almost unavoidable to see that amidst this controversy about LGBTQ, a strong sense of Islamic solidarity is formed among the majority of Indonesians. It is natural, I must say. After all, Islam is against homosexuality (right, about that, I'm trying to say this, but. . .yeah, I can't help myself: Islam is against homosexuality, true, but Islam is never against embracing people. Go, read some history on Islam. Read the story of our Prophet Muhammad [PBUH] and tell me it isn't right. You will know what I'm suggesting here). 

I cannot say that this solidarity and this sudden re-realization of "Islamic values" are directly related to censorship in media (or even if it is related at all), but before you know it, everywhere things are blurred. Censorship at its best. It has been disturbing for quite some times since they decided to censor cigarettes and even the slightest cleavage on TV, but only recently I found out they also made up their mind to censor guns. In a frenzy action movie culture, censoring guns means mosaics here and there. Still, what blew everyone's mind was these two outrageous censorship: the one on cartoons and the one on kebaya, our own traditional dress. The skirt worn by Shizuka from Doraemon is considered too short (she is a 5-year-old). The bikini worn by Sandy from Spongebob Squarepants is considered inappropriate (she is a squirrel). The kebaya worn by the beauty pageant contestants is considered showing too much skin (. . . .it is our own traditional attire?).

Whether or not Islamic values are related to this unfortunate event, what happens happens. As insane as it is, this is the face of Indonesian media these days: frightened by women's body. Pardon the use of words; I am a woman and I am offended. Cigarettes are dangerous for our health, as it is scientifically proven. Guns are dangerous because it is a weapon, it harms people and breaks things. Is women's body dangerous? If you say so with whatever reason you might have (apart from religion, because it is complicated to elaborate women's position in Islam and it will need a whole another post), congratulations. You see the world through men's eyes. As Naomi Wolf said, "Beauty provokes harassment, the law says, but it looks through men's eyes when deciding what provokes it." (The Beauty Myth, 1990). If any, women's body are dangerous for themselves. Some men are so used to having excuses justifying women's objectification.

You might challenge me and argue, "You said 'apart from religion', which means it can be that these censorship guys censored TV according to rules set in religions! We see this from religions' eyes, you insolent writer!" Well, think again. Which religion forbids women from showing their skin? If your answer is Islam, think again. Is Indonesia an Islamic country? The majority of us are Muslims, I know, but is it an Islamic country? Is Indonesian law supposedly rooted from Islamic rules? You just gotta think and think again. Indonesia is home to diversity. Different languages, skin colors, religions, beliefs, norms, social values, lifestyles. There is never a rule that says majority is law. You know, you might think I'm kafir by now, and I disrespect Islam by wearing hijab while having an opinion like this. It's fine. I'm a Muslim neither because of nor for you (that, if I'm a Muslim at all; you and I both know only Allah can pass someone as a true Muslim). 

All in all, again, I made this too intertwined with religion (okay, Islam). But, really, you cannot talk about these two issues without relating it with Islam. The country that was once famous for its friendly pluralism is no longer. And sometimes, to me, it is as if the government forget that they are the leaders of diverse people--they play favorites with only some groups. Coincidentally, it is Islam. Still, recalling the history of LGBTQ in London, I doubt this parade will last for long. The same goes for women's objectification.