I really don't understand why I have to tell my loved one over and over again about my feeling, and how depressed I am, just to have his slightest attention, just to know the fact that he still doesn't provide that. I sometimes cannot understand why can't he be emphatic for a while, and not say any single word, and just hold me, or at least just leave me alone. I really don't ask him to ask me if I am okay or not, because I know that he knows that I am not. I also don't ask him to keep me busy or ask me out, because I know that he knows that I don't feel like meeting people or going out when I am down. And the fact that he doesn't talk to me, or prefers to listening to music, or to go to cafe for coffee, don't help me in anyway except making me feel like crying.
Hmm, yeah, I really believe that everyone has different ways of giving attention. He is just back with my favorite perfume, and said plainly, "Nih, tadi ada parfum ini di bijenkorf, gue inget lo nyari-nyari ini, jadi gue beliin!".
Nou, ik hoop het wel! Crossing Fingers.... again!
She heard a knock on the door. She did not feel like answering so she stayed in her blanket. The door knob was moving slowly, and Mother was standing there. She brought a cup of tomato soup for Anna to have supper. She did not feel like eating, not even talking to Mother. Mother was walking silently towards Anna. Anna did not want to talk, so she covered her up deeper with her blanket. Anna heard that Mother wept, and Mother said weakly, “Bono bought this soup from this morning’s market. He was here just now.”
Anna loved Bono, in fact she was crazy about him. She knew that Bono cared about her. But talking to him had been the most tiring argument for Anna lately. She felt that Bono has been not telling what he actually needed to say. She knew that somehow she found relieving of what Bone said, but she scared that Bono would make her even worst. In fact, Bono had been the only person, besides her family, who had been saying that Anna is beautiful just the way she was. But Anna could not be sure if that is right.
Anna could not stand hearing Mother weeping. She unwrapped herself and at last wanted to talk to Mother. She did not know where to start though, because this was the first time in her life she ever talked about her private thoughts to Mother. She felt that Mother might know what to do, and she soon would end this misery, so she started.
“Mother, I have been feeling ugly”.
“Why is it like that Honey? What makes you feel that?”
“I don’t know Mother, but it is just people keep saying that to me? Do you know what is wrong with me Mother?”
“Honestly, I don’t know Honey. ‘Cause for me you seem fine, except that you have not been eating properly lately, so I guess you look a bit pale now.”
“If so Mother, why people are doing that to me? I never felt so bad like this before Mother. It feels like no one likes me for the way I am. It seems that they enjoy commenting on me Mother. It hurts so bad Mother when people say that I am fat, or I am ugly, or sometimes that I am not interesting enough as a person. Am I that bad Mother?”
“Oh Honey, who has been saying those things to you?”
“I don’t know anymore Mother. I hate those people for saying those to me. In fact they are actually no one Mother. They are people who are not close to me, but I cannot understand why they do this to me. They never know me as a person Mother, we never are friends really, but whenever we are in class, or anywhere where we are bumped into each other, there were always occasions where they can always say those sorts of things. I never know what I did wrong to them, I never said that they were ugly or they were fat or they were eating too much Mother. I felt like I let them be happy. But they seem to enjoy telling me those things. When they did that to me, it looks to me that they don't feel anything. It looks like it was not wrong to them, like it was just a chit chat really. But Mother, it hurts... so bad. I’ve been saying to myself Mother, that I am in fact not that bad. Although I eat probably more that them, and I feel that I eat normal, and I am not fat or overweight or anything, am I Mother? When they said that I am not interesting as a person, I said to myself that I do have some friends, good friends, and Bono, he is a lovely boyfriend, and a happy family, don’t I Mother? Don’t those things prove that some people actually find me interesting, and like me for what I am really? So Mother, I’ve been mad to myself. I am mad because I don’t know why I am still talking to those people, do they really deserve it Mother? I am mad because two hours ago I was pitying myself in front of that mirror and was asking myself what is wrong with me. I am mad because I thought that I still need those people, while I actually don’t know what good they bring to me. They are not there when I am crying like this Mother. They were not there Mother when I run out of money. I realized that they solely there for the laughs. I don’t need that Mother, do I? I am so depressed Mother, I am.”
“Oh Anna, I really don’t know what to say. There are bad people out there, and they should really think about what they could have done with their comments. And I think from now on you just need to care about yourself and people you care about. Not people that you think you care about, but people who can really be there for the ups and the downs, for the laughs and the sadness. I think from now you have to start to give and take, and stop giving all you have for those who don’t give to you. Believe in yourself, and believe in what you see and feel about yourself. Believe me Dear, I love you just the way you are, inside out. I believe that people are different, some have beauties all over their bodies, and some have beauties inside, which others might not see. But you will see later that beauties that naked eyes can see, that those people have cared and talked about, are only skin deep. Beauties that are kept inside are purer and harder to change. Those beauties are meant to bloom later, and eventually to be seen later. And you, you are one of those pure beauties. That is why you have people that care about you when you cry and when you smile.”
I dedicate this post for those who have been having lack of self-confidence because of people's saying mortifying opinions about them. I guess from now on, we really have to think twice, or even more, before we actually say what we meant to say. There is never a good reason that qualifies a person to hurt others, even when we don't mean to.
Why don't I excite anymore about the Indonesian Independence Day?
Deep down, as an Indonesian, I am feeling terribly wrong. I know that there must be something wrong, either with me- or my country - or probably both to be fair.
Today all of my flat-mates are going to The Hague, to the Indonesian Ambassador. As usual, every August 17th they hold a flag-hoisting ceremony, which is followed by traditional games and performances. This event always attracts the Indonesian people living in the Netherlands. The visitors even exceed the sum of visitors of the two important holidays; Ied and Christmas. For some people, the most attractive part of the event would be the food, which is especially prepared with Indonesian delicacies. Apart from that particular reason- the food-, I am not quite sure whether those people attend the ceremony is simply because they love their 'real' country- Indonesia- since some of them might not anymore hold Indonesian passport, or simply for the togetherness after the ceremony?
For me, I am home instead. I prefer to sit in front of my computer sending some job applications. This year is my forth year in the Netherlands, yet I feel like the longer I stay here, the less I care about those nationalism thingies. I think the bottom line theory should have been, "the longer I stay abroad, the more I miss my country, the more I care about it". It does not happen though. And if you ask the people living here, I bet that not even half of them will say that they want to go back to Indonesia and build their "real" country. Why? I honestly do not know. Am I feeling terrible? Yes I am. Can I do something about it? No.
It is rather embarrassing actually, the fact that I don't admire my own country anymore, considering that I was a flag-hoister back in high school. Because of this flag-hoisting-activity, back when I first time arrived in the Netherlands, I was this big girl who loved her country. I told everyone that when I finish my school I am going to go back to Indonesia and build my country, and I insisted that everyone should think so. Every time I talked to people about Indonesia, my heart was like swollen with pride hearing them talking about the beauty of Indonesia. I then realized that four years feel just like one blink of an eye. I can't remember anymore the last time I told the same argument that I told four years ago. I can't remember why I stopped, and when it happened. I also can remember the feeling of being that big, feeling of giving everything to my country, being proud and peaceful.
It might be true that a part of the answer was my previous blog, that I can't find anymore a reason to love my country. Another half would be the pride of being an Indonesian. I think this is all because my heart is not swollen anymore with that pride, the pride that I had four years ago. I need to find the pride that I have lost. How? tell me.
Seseorang non-nasionalis bertanya tentang kecintaannya terhadap negaranya. Ia dituntut untuk berbuat sesuatu untuk negaranya. Bukan untuknya, bukan untuk orang yang dicintainya, tetapi untuk negaranya. Walau negara adalah bagian dari identitasnya, negara baginya adalah zat absurd yang tidak bicara padanya, yang tidak membuatnya tertawa, yang tidak mencukupi apa yang ia butuhkan sebagai manusia.
Apabila negara bukan benda absurd yang tak terjamah, negara bisa diandaikan sebagai seorang perempuan. Jika kau bertemu seorang perempuan di kereta untuk pertama kalinya, perempuan yang tidak menarik. Perempuan ini tak bicara padamu, tak melucu dan tak membuatmu tertawa, tak menawarkan minuman dingin yang dipegangnya saat dia melirikmu dan melihatmu menelan ludah tanda kehausan. Apa yang akan kau lakukan untuk perempuan ini? Apakah kau akan menawarkan diri untuk membawakan tas belanjaannya? Apakah kau memiliki alasan untuk berbuat banyak untuk perempuan ini? Sang non-nasionalis berkata, ''Sebuat senyuman akan cukup."
Bagi sang non-nasionalis tuntutan ini lebih berat daripada menjalankan semua tuntutan agama dan kepercayaannya. Baginya hidup haruslah berdasar pada hubungan mutualisme, hubungan sebab akibat, memberi dan menerima. Baginya mencintai negara tidak sejalan dengan semua prinsip-prinsip hidupnya itu. Dan diatas semua itu, mencintai negara membutuhkan sebuah alasan. Dan ia tidak dapat menemukan alasan yang tepat untuk mencintai negaranya, dengan sepenuh hati. Alasan yang logis, yang membuatnya rela berkorban bagi negaranya. Alasan yang manusiawi, bukan hanya semata-mata karena negara itu adalah identitasnya. Ia mencari alasan yang kuat. Alasan seperti alasan untuk mencintai seorang wanita. Baginya tanpa alasan kuat dan logis itu, ia dan negara bagaikan guntingan-guntingan kertas tak berlem. Tanpa alasan itu, sebagai seorang manusia ia tahu suatu saat ia akan berpaling ke sesuatu yang lebih riil, sesuatu yang lebih logis, sesuatu yang berbeda dan menawarkan prinsip-prinsip yang ia anut.
Sang non-nasionalis adalah seorang pencari. Ia mencari alasan. Ia mencari bukan untuk memberi, tapi untuk mengerti alasan yang tepat untuk mencintai. Ia tahu bahwa pencarian ini akan tak mudah. Semua ini sulit dan menantang karena negara bukan sebidang tanah, bukan sebatas lambang, dan juga bukan tuhan yang mewajibkan umat manusia untuk menjunjungnya. Negara adalah zat tercair yang tak terbendung dan tak terprediksi. Negara adalah kumpulan ide-ide. Negara adalah manusia-manusia, dan negara bukan saya. Selama ia tidak mengenal manusia-manusia ini dan segudang ide-idenya, ia tak akan mulai untuk mencintai negara.
Mengenal mungkin akan menyukai. Menyukai mungkin akan mencintai. Dengan alasan yang tepat semua itu akan menjadi mungkin.