when do people give up?

When you’re trying to flip a fried egg without breaking the yolks

Just make a scrambled one. 

During a rush hour of people commuting back home and you’re stuck in a transjakarta and its been 3 hours of what seemed to be 1km/hour speed

Walking home would’ve been faster. And healthier both physically and mentally.

Even if it's from Rasuna Said to Cipete? Yes. Whatever keeps you sane.

When you put on the shoes that you haven’t used for six months long because you forget why you stop wearing it 

You can’t seriously think that after six months it will tailor itself to fit your feet better. Sure, it doesn't have any holes and it works fine when you try it at home so you wonder why you stopped wearing this. I can save my money because I don't have to buy a new one. In the morning you go to work with a smile on your face and a hope so inflated that it might burst. It does burst at the end of the day though when the back pain prevents you from sleeping. 

P.S. it is about shoes.

Every time you need to do your laundry because the sun is shining brightly but your very own drying rack is out there fully stacked with your neighbor’s clothes 

All while their bag is full of Labubus and Pop Mart’s trinkets. Also Corkcicle in multiple colors. #thirdworldcountrysproblem

When the harmful behavior outweighs years of love and commitment

I don’t know. I haven’t done it either.

Do we give up?

 

that week in Bali

In the third week of July this year I took a break from my job and boarded a plane to Bali, with a hope that I could clear my head. I was trying to see if I still had that little strength in me if I were to take a leap of faith. 

It was already past 9 pm when I arrived on my airbnb in Canggu. I got hungry and I ordered food online along with a drink. In a bottle. I, who usually counted my every move weighing in the outcome and such, didn’t have any idea that I would struggle opening a bottle. I tried to pull the mouth open with the only thing I found in the pantry; a spoon. Soon after the spoon was bent. I tried to use the table but it's made from wood so I didn't want to risk breaking another property. 

What could I do? I started sobbing. While still attempting to pry up the freaking cap with a bent spoon. Until it magically worked. Wowsie.

In the morning I went to a Sunday market and got myself a perfume because I dropped the one I brought from home in the airport’s toilet. Also a silver ring shaped like a fire, that somehow reminded me of Calcifier from Howl’s moving castle. 

I went for brunch, sat in the outdoor area while taking Bali’s heat in as the sun was getting higher. I basically spaced out while tried to savor an unexpectedly big portion of avocado toast. 

I went to get some manicures after that. My cuticles got bled from being accidentally chipped by the staff but she looked sorry so I didn’t mind. Though it was truly painful to be honest.

I mostly spent the days being on the beach, watching people walk their dog, family on a vacation, and other trivial mundane stuffs. Nothing grand was happening – just as planned. 

Except that one morning I cried over a passage from Rilke’s Letters to A Young Poet while sipping hot hojicha latte in St. Ali. 

“And if it frightens and pains you to think of your childhood and the simplicity and stillness that go together with it, because you can no longer believe in God, who is everywhere present in it, then ask yourself, dear Mr Kappus, whether you have really lost God after all? Is it not rather the case that you never had possessed him? From when was it supposed to have been? Do you think a child can hold him, him whom grown men only bear with difficulty and whose weight bows down the old? Do you believe that anyone who really has him could lose him like a little pebble, or don’t you think that whoever had him could only be lost by him alone?”

(maybe it wasn’t that grand but to kinda crash out in a public space was new to me thanks)

I moved to Seminyak for a change of scenery but the airbnb was kind of eerie. I kept hearing voices and stompings at night. It was weird because the whole time I was outside it seemed like it was only me who stayed there. I couldn’t sleep at all. 

I then again moved on to Sanur and planned to meet my college friend who fled from Melbourne with her boyfriend. We were cycling along the beach and having dinner in a local night market because her boyfriend wanted to try some traditional foods. I was genuinely happy to see her and listening to her life updates that made me proud of who she became. And deep down I wondered if I could ever be as brave as her.

What could I possibly have learned from the trip? Nothing but feeling a bit restful at least, despite not being able to sleep on that night in Seminyak. Maybe I was close to finding that clarity I so hopefully found if only I could stay for another few days, but when capitalism called we had to roll up, right. I didn’t force it though. I just departed from the island to go on with whatever’s left in me and told myself to just carefully live. 

And that if another storm knocks on my door I could always fly to Hanoi. Or Japan. Or anywhere with beaches really.

kinda lost in vung tau

Last November me and my homies were going for a trip to Ho Chi Minh. I had no idea why (even until now) we didn’t plan anything and just booked an airbnb in HCM for a week. Hence, though we hadn’t fully explored the city yet, we got bored. We felt like we needed to see the beach.

After scrolling past tiktok posts we finally decided to take a day trip to Vung Tau by fast boat. The reception was pretty bad, and I kinda worried since I hadn't purchased the tickets back to HCM. To our rescue, some college students who were doing some studies on Vietnam’s tourism just so happened to be on the boat that time and day. I broke off of my introverted personality and started a conversation with them. What a great feeling that was when it turned out they weren’t mean. Lol. They even shared a web link which the locals used to book a shuttlebus, and it was cheaper.

As we arrived on the mainland it hit us how we were gonna get by while we were there. Because the reception was completely gone. We were using an internet provider from home and turned out it couldn’t reach this small island. Duh?

After idling away on the deck eating the complimentary snacks we got from filling in some questionnaires, while fending off people who offer to rent their bike, we ordered a grab ride using free wifi. Anxious how we were gonna survive next as the free wifi bidding us adieu…

We arrived at the banh khot restaurant. And. they. Have. Wifi!!!! <3

The aunties were so nice and all smiley, and banh khot were so goood that I started considering this place on my retirement plan. And the free flow of tra da was just <3 vietnamese and their hospitality <3

After savoring all that we had to brainstorm again on how we’re gonna go to the next destination. We tried looking for any cell store that might sell sim cards but found nothing, so we walked back to the banh khot place for free wifi… to book a cab to another tourist attraction up the hill… everything’s fine (for a while) we were taking all the island view in and took some photos despite the strong wind that could swap me away anytime. Then another crisis hit when it's time to move to another destination. I asked a middle aged man who seemed to be the security guard if there was wifi in the building but he said there wasn't any but he let me use his wifi and shared its password. In tears I kept thanking him and he asked if I came from Thailand. I said I was from Malaysia. I wonder if I might be a pathological liar.

We went to a cafe by the seaside. Sipping a coconut coffee and watching people went about their day. The sun was slowly dipping down the horizon and we decided to have seafood for dinner. Again, another delicacy that made us say stuff like, I found myself in Vietnam. 

We bought some non-alcoholic beers and walked along the seashore like drunkards until we found another place with wifi. But I had to find a pharmacy first because the blister on my foot was getting unbearable. I was trying to buy a plaster but I didn't know how to say it in viet and we had no internet connection for a google translate, so I just lifted up my foot and showed her before we got lost too deep in translation.
We went to the travel agency, and our shuttle wasn't ready yet. We were still a bit full but what seemed to be a pho restaurant right next to it was truly tempting. Glad that we opted to dine in because we couldn't miss out on a bowl of happiness that felt like pho but also felt like our soto back home (in a really good way). Also the waitress was so kind and so pretty that made Boris blurt another I think I should live here whatsoever.

It took two hours to get into district one, and they stopped right in front of our airbnb. In the middle of the trip we stopped by a gift shop full of local made snacks. I swore the vibe was similar to being in a travel van from Jogja to Kudus. But with a much better and cooler and more advanced ride. And a driver whose driving didn’t make us recite syahadat the whole trip.

The thing is, there is this kind of excitement for traveling to a foreign place without a concrete plan. The kind people we met along the way, the help from strangers who don’t even speak our language. The unexpected hurdles were sure testing our friendship at the moment, but looking back it was really something to be laughed about and glad that it happened that way. 

(For the next trip though let’s be wise and maybe have a plan)

first week of december

Another day of being a human

I just got home from work and it was still raining. After minutes of scrolling past the groceries delivery app I decided to just walk to the nearest convenience store to grab some snacks. Long story short I stood immobilized in front of the beverage section being indecisive as ever as to pick between teh kotak and hydrococo (in the end I didn’t pick both). 

Suddenly a man who seemed to be the same age as my dad approached me and he looked kinda doubtful (and I was about to run). He told me that he was buying some medicine for his sick wife at the pharmacy next door but it only accepted cash and all he brought was his e-money card which of course couldn’t withdraw money from an ATM machine. He asked if I would be paying cash to the cashier, so he would pay my groceries off with his card in exchange for my cash. I told him I didn’t have cash and I didn't bring my wallet (and that I was wondering whether this was a new modus operandi of a scam and running through every possible scenario in my head where I could get hypnotized) (or worse, kidnapped). 

I told him maybe he should ask the cashier and he said he already did but there had to be a purchase first. I just said sorry. He was like it’s okay and walked out the door. 

I went back on my business of picking up my Guribee and Wafer Selamat and a lot I couldn’t list since it might waste ten minutes worth of my time and those who read this (if there would be any), while considering every possibility that would end up in him robbing me. The man was still standing outside looking at the falling rain and the thoughts of what if he really needed the help flooded in my conscience. 

I went to the ATM machine and thankfully I had an account from the same bank so I could do cardless transaction (thanks to Abel for telling me this kind of feature existed! many years ago). I took out some cash and gave it to him. He was asking how he could repay me? I said never mind. It would be more suspicious if he really forced me to give out my gopay/bank account, really. 

He was smiling so broad that I could spot some calculus on his lower anterior teeth (forgive me but unfortunately this has been my personality since dental school). He was thankful that I saved him, then he half ran to the pharmacy. 

And I did the same, to my house (scared shitless that he’d be following me home).

During that scurrying back home I kept pondering… okay, what just happened? If that was a scam and that man regularly executed his scheme there I would be too ashamed of going back because a lot of the staff saw it all. But then again I had a good intention anyway and it was just a small amount of money that wouldn’t make me go bankrupt. Why should I be ashamed? Humans are indeed complicated.

At the end of the day, I felt grateful that I was useful to another human being. That my existence was for a reason (even if the reason was to get scammed and it turned out he needed to pay for a plate of ayam penyet which by the time he finished eating it struck him that he didn't carry his waller? or that he asked that small amount of money from twenty different people? only god knows). 

Not so fun fact, I actually had a lot on my mind that day that made me wonder if being in this world was worth all the suffering. Suffering was essential for us to be able to feel happy, that I knew of. But at that point I felt like some suffering just wasn't necessary. It didn’t teach me anything but to shut down and retreat back to a flop state and refuse to see anyone; lethargic to the world. And this year sure got a hell lot of unnecessary ones right from the beginning till end. I honestly started wondering how pointless, how hopeless to be living down here. So maybe that Thursday afternoon I was reminded that I might still have a role here, however confusing.

(As I arrived home, I frantically checked all my money saving apps. Just in case.)

When Lorazepam kicks in

And suddenly it’s 2008 again. And I was sitting in a cube of an Internet cafe illegally downloading emo songs from 4shared and writing a whole ass post on my blog about being chased by a dog during a sports class. After hours of so called internet surfing I would get out of the dark and sweat smelling room and find my late grandfather already waiting for me on his red Honda Supra. The sun was almost down. We would visit our relative who had a store selling Al-Qur’an and such prior going back home. They would talk for hours and I’d be too preoccupied reading stories of the prophets. 

Or it could be nothing. 

and the voices were getting less and less and less and less

Into a deep slumber I went. 

07.26.2020

I couldn’t recollect how it began nor how it ended. But, it’s still vivid in my mind how our outstretching arms were always reaching out for each other’s; how we’re good at pulling them back when they’re a touch away. Always close, but never close enough to taste each other’s skin. I remembered how intoxicated you were by heartbreak, that I became a perfect illusion of someone you could adore. An object of infatuation. It was delighting, the way you romanticized superficiality that I featured. In your eyes I could saw a veneered version of myself that I, too, would desire. If only you cared a little to peel off a bit of it, would you let reality crush you or feigned blind and deaf instead?

grieving

It was raining the day she passed away. My parents sat by her side, constantly reciting Qur’an verses that she tried to follow with all her remaining energy. I watched her letting out a long breath, then everything went quiet. The next thing I heard was my mother crying out loud, and the sound of my father stepping out of the room. One of our relatives entered the room to pull me up to her embrace and took me out to the living room. Rubbing my back to console me she said, “take a deep breath, dear. It’s okay. It’s okay.” I didn’t realize I was crying. I was still trying to grasp the name of the throbbing pain that felt alien to me. Everything hurt so much to the point where I started to feel the air slowly being sucked out of me too. Until the sound of a table being punched hauled me back to reality. It then followed by screaming and whimpering. For the first time I witnessed my father in such state of devastation, I knew things wouldn’t be the same after that.

I was only ten years old when she left. I didn’t understand much about that kind of grief from losing someone and not being able to see her again forever. So I just moved on. Little did I know that later in my adulthood I would continue thinking about her. Images of her searching for me in the neighborhood every lunch time, preparing a warm bath for me every morning, or taking me to the market were playing on my mind like old movie reels. It was unfair that she was in my life for such short period of time, when she’s the one who exhibited the kind of love that’s reassuring; the kind that established a safe space for me to run to. The love that I could feel in the warmth that radiated off of her on that cold December morning when I was swallowed up in her arms as she attempted to keep me off from hearing my parents fight. The warmth that I'd been struggling to discover ever since, in every person that I met and places that I went – only to no avail.

I often wondered if things would have been different if she were still here. Or even when the destruction was inevitable, I would at least feel less lonely. She would have saved me like she always did. She could be the rope that tied all of us together. Now each one of us is slowly slipping away, and we can't figure out how to hold on to each other. And I might have been running away for too long I just can't find my way home.

farewell

as i was driving home, every fragments of what i had left behind recurred to me like a cancer striking back after certain period of remission. once in a while i'd glance at the passing trees and the sun rays that filtered through them. they made my mind wander to those days when my grandfather used to pick me up from extracurricular activity at school and i'd hop on the back of his motorcycle.

we used to pass this particular road that used to be my favorite simply because it looked like one of those beautiful roads i watched in movies. also, somehow, this road gave me certain feeling that i couldn't decipher. it's silly. but then i thought i had figured out what it was.

because ten years later as i traveled home for my grandfather's funeral and happened to pass that road again, i could still feel it.

it was a sense of longing.
a deep ache for something beyond my grasp, because either its lost forever or it lived in the obscurity of the future.

i got a call from my father the previous day that my grandfather passed away. he finally gave up. stroke had sabotaged his life for nine years. yet i felt not a slight of emotions. i didn't even bother shedding a tear. probably because he had been sick for such long period of time, i had learnt to let go long ago. but when i passed this nameless road, i kept pondering about the last conversation with my grandfather that seemed to have been permanently erased from my memory. about all those years i spent alienating myself from my own family. how from someone whom being away from her family had her cried every night, i grew to be someone who didn't feel comfortable being surrounded by them. how loneliness used to bombard me without any mercy, until i dived too deep in it and it became all that i wanted.

i was too engrossed within my own thoughts i became unaware that i had driven past the road to a more bumpy one. the roadside trees were replaced by vast paddy fields. and i could see the sun slowly dip below the horizon as the night fell, casting a warm red light that bathed the earth.

this road.
it seemed unending.

here, i tell you the truth.

sitting there on a bench where we used to have our little conversations every morning, i could feel a feeling of relief wash over me that i was finally able to let go of our every almost.

what i hardly realized was i romanticized those things we had in the past more than they deserved. i grew accustomed to the idea of you that i had planted inside my head. and the idea itself became my muse.

while you never were.

if only time machine did exist

it came in waves every so often

and, every scenes was too vivid to call it a mere nostalgia

like when its five in the morning and i was sitting on the roof, gazing at the peach painted east sky as the sun gradually rose above the horizon

or when i was unable to sleep, i drew back the curtain and stared beyond the window at the starry sky up there

its as if every beautiful things i saw would only drift my mind away, back to those long gone days

back then, i hadn't had any idea that what made me whole in that very moment would one day leave me empty

this empty

adieu.

it was june again, and i was there, sitting by the window at the corner of a small coffee shop that used to be our favorite spot for everytime she threw tantrums you could no longer handle. 

the night breeze kept sneaking in through the opened window pane to sweep off my freshly cut short hair, made it messier than it already was. i didn't expect you to ask me why i did it; cutting my long wavy hair you once told me that you liked it very much and that you couldn't suppose it being chopped as short as that. i didn't even expect you to come. 

its been years. i had stopped counting. i had no energies left to water even the slightest hope that someday the bell would ring as the door creaked open and it would be you. the reason i was there, on the day our eyes first locked each others, was nothing but to tell you that you were out of my life. 

because i listened to our song and i shuddered no more. and when i found a polaroid film with us looking genuinely happy in it, my heart did not thump. i drowned myself in routines and i no longer thought about you every single day. i didn't see your faces everywhere. i didn't seek for you in the crowd of strangers. i didn't drive aimlessly in the middle of the night just to reminisce those gone days. 

you were out of my life. because everytime i fell into his arms, i felt right where i belonged. 

until we both gave up

let me take you back to the beginning of our story.

the way you caressed my forehead ignited sparks within me; those that embroidered the new year eves sky above us, back when we noticed no slightest clues that life was only deceiving us into believing that forever lived inside our intertwined fingers. it was all about butterflies perching on our rib cages, soaring down to our stomach; the kind of torment that people longed for. the world was ours and we were too young to pay attention. and me, i was too naive to consider myself ready.

now let me tell you one of the things that remain vivid - remember the night we lied down on the seashore sands doing thing adults these days deemed it cheesy; star gazing? i'd still admit it was the most beautiful night i had ever experienced in my whole life. we talked and talked. revealing every past scenes and secrets we never got the nerve to let loose. discovering each other thoughts. picturing every possibilities the future held. 

lets just say that we had not figured out yet that such things were only some parts of a story that demanded a closure.

again, it was great and we called it love, even when we weren't so sure about the exact definition of it. it was joys that wrapped us till we almost became one. it was everything nice - until we stopped listening to the songs we both wanted each other to hear and instead we began feeding each other with lies. until depression had eventually concocted its way beneath our skin. until exhaustion composed our body as much as water did to ours.

until we both gave up.