English · My Blabber Side · My Chaotic Philosophy

Happy Birthday, A Clumsy 22-Year-Old Girl

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The 22-year-old me is an introvert, an acute one. A random MBTI tests all over internet said either she is 84% or 96% introvert. If it’s true then it’s not a shocking fact as she suffered a lot from her social anxiety. She was even hide in the restroom just to catch a breath at least twice a day during her the first three months of work life.

The 22-year-old me would be a national champion of overthinking competition, if it’s any. She is a B-type which people would called a happy-go-lucky type. So basically her nature is a mix-up. An overthinker B-type, she would declare. It’s quite not easy to live in kind of state of mind which contains thousands of opposite traits and behaviours. She has to dealing with voices in her head that arguing each another everytime. That’s why practical thinking is not her style, hence it doubles up the hardness of life for her. Poor soul.

The 22-year-old me still avoiding phone calls, messages, people; glitching from responsibilities; and escaping from real life. The 15-year-old her was ever composed a song titled “Escapist”, it tells about a person who doesn’t belong anywhere and can’t handle real life, and she still think that song compatible for her personal self even until now.

The 22-year-old me was longing for a perfect romance life, everyday, everytime, tho she never verbally admit it. Being in touch with the other one whom she considered as ‘boy’ or ‘guy’ makes her awkward hence this traits often translated as a ‘cold-and-cool-and-not-interested’ trait by the person she deeply longing. What an irony.

The 22 year-old me was ever felt so depressed that she nearly got her hands to alcohol can in the groceries and even keep eyes on which cigarettes to smoke. She never drink neither smoke before as it’s encounter her principles of life. But that depression almost eat her up to bones. Luckily, she then considered yoghurt and glico pocky tastes better than alcohol and cigarettes, so, well, attempt of rebellion: failed.

The 22-year-old me still speak to her imaginary friends. Yes, she has. And not only one but SIX instead. One of them is a wolf named Pandemonium and one other is Sora from Kingdom Hearts game. People might said that she is a schizoid because she talks to herself a lot as if she actually talks to a ‘friends’. And she refused to called them ‘imaginary friends’. “They are my guardian angels”, instead she replied.

Birthday is not her thing since 5 years ago. She loves a quiet and lonely birthday where everybody forget about it and behave like usual to her. She hates surprise or party or other kind of celebration because spotlight freaking her out and make her anxious.

And this birthday, too. Except she finally leaked it out by revealing her big wish on her instagram account, which her friends apparently recognized and makes it not a ‘quiet-birthday’ anymore. But this time, no problemo.

The 22-year-old me now have become a 23-year-old me today. As the 23-year-old approaching, she anxious a LOT. She hasn’t obtain a big and meaningful thing that she thought every 23’s people has to. “I will be 23 yet I’m still an useless potato, what should I do?!”, she mumbled panickly everyday since April began. But when the day come, peculiarly everything happens just like that. It’s not painful at all. Being 23-year-old feels strangely not different as being 22-year-old.

Being 23-year-old doesn’t mean that she have to evolved to become an extroverted, and stable, and rich, and wise either. I think, she will just stay this way. People change and her, too, will unnoticedly changes. It doesn’t matter the age. Age is just a number. But the process to be a mature person can’t be started or paused right away as if you’re installing a phone app. It happens as the time goes, slowly.

Happy Birthday to her.

She has a lot and numerous cool dreams to give up now so, 23, please be nice to her.

 

English · My Chaotic Philosophy · People Watching

A Week of People Watching – Day 7

Prologue

I’ve been cheating the day. I should post this yesterday but all kind of social life faint me down and didn’t have that much energy, so, yeah.

Main Story

If you think the closest person to you would never bring you down, PFFFTTTT–TALK TO MY HANDS. When I saw a contempt eyes that looking at me from my closest one (hint: a family) I just thought, Uh-Oh, I forgot we can’t trust human.

That’s all, I guess. I ought to warn you to be careful everytime because you definitely can trust no one. Except your pet cat or dog, I thought they are far more sincere and faithful than any human-being.

But, hey, just a warn though.

 

Epilogue

So this remarks the end of my people-watching week (which I pretty sure will not going to the end as I’ll continue doing it everyday, minus the report as a daily post).

 

My Chaotic Philosophy · People Watching

A Week of People Watching – Day 4

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Main Story

I never knew before that we can easily find upset and miserable people in mall, a place where it supposedly a happy place, like those executive property developers acclaimed.

And in the groceries there, I met an old woman, maybe 55 to early 60, with a wry face and squinted eyes, walked down the aisle of cleaning fluid by herself, pushed a shopping trolley without anyone else.

At first I thought that face shows pain, which is shocked me. An upset face, it’s quite common since so many people throwing money here in mall when some people don’t like that idea (for example, husbands who accompanying their wife). A doubtful face, so understandable with many people relying their income here to pay their miserable bills. But pain? In the face of an old woman who go shopping by herself? No, there’s must be something wrong with her that must be anticipated.

Feeling intrigued, I left my mother behind (she was too busy paid more attention to the price of cleaning fluids to realized that I’m not by her side anymore) and sneakingly followed her, aisle to aisle. Even to cashier, where I sat on the bench nearby while eyeing on her.

Turns out the face which I mistaken as a pain, is actually a sad face, a deep sadness. A face of sorrow and grief. That squinted eyes? Probably she has myopic eyes. I knew this because my eyes are both myopic and if I don’t wear my glasses on, I have to squint my eyes in order to have clearer sight. She didn’t wear glasses so it supposedly explain it all.

But what about that constant sorrow? It’s haunting me somehow. I nearly bump over her and ask what can I do or how could I help her because she looks so sad. But I may look like a freak stranger and might frightening her as well so I keep my mouth shut and walk in a required distance.

And in the end, I could do nothing more than observe.

 

Image credits to: Pexels.com

English · My Chaotic Philosophy · People Watching

A Week of People Watching – Day 3

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Main Story

I have a lecturer who appear emotionless. His jokes and sense of humour are the most dying thing in the whole world, his voice tone is like a flat line in heart pacemaker monitor, the one that everyone afraid of. I can’t guess what’s in his mind and yet I still predicting, but before I can scan him (like I able to do that), he gave us—the students—a surprise surprise!

I always wondering whether human can born that way, with flat expression and inability to express emotions. Or it just something that we learnt along the way?

Hence thinking about this, is it so painful to not being able to laugh when we’re happy, cry when we’re sad, get mad when we’re angry, thrilled when we’re afraid, scream when we’re surprised? Eventhough it can be overwhelming sometimes, they are all precious feelings, aren’t they?

Epilogue

Going out of home and meeting people becoming so fun since I started doing this.

English · My Blabber Side · My Chaotic Philosophy · Uncategorized

A Week of People Watching – Day 2

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Main Story

Ain’t a great thing I found today. For another reason, so many things going through my mind that it made me focus on myself instead of other people. I failed today. I should pay attention more meticulously henceforth.

 

 

Picture credits from someone on tumblr a long time ago (I forget the ID).
Please message me to claim if it’s yours.

English · My Blabber Side · My Chaotic Philosophy · People Watching

A Week of People Watching – Day 1

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Prologue

People never been my interest. Beside I’m naturally a social anxiety sufferer, external emotions that people showed up always feels like a massive attack for me, overwhelming and smothering. So in return, I always pay attention more to what they wear instead of what expressions they show up.

Not trying to be a sartorialist, but I am one of those people who believes that what you wear, a little bit, show up who you are. So I put a lot of interest in paying attention of what people are wearing in order to guess what kind of person they are or what things do they concern in.

But psychology is one of my interest among my other countless interests (which Emilie Wapnick on her TEDtalk called it ‘Multipotentialite’, maybe, due to my endless interest in sphoradical fields haha!), so emphasize more about human is a must-do idea since first I read Sigmund Freud.

Hence I made a rule for myself started this week (1 March, to be exact) about paying attention to people’s emotions in order to  gain a lot more knowledge about human.

Yes, NO MORE CLOTHES OBSERVATION for a week.

 

Main Story

What surprised me today is apparently a lot of sad, and fear, and sad, and sad again. I admitted that living in a capital city like Jakarta where social and economical gap is figuratively like compare between plantae kingdom with animalia kingdom, extremely distant. And it cause pressures everywhere.

If sad could illustrated as a dark aura and fear as a violet one, all I could see today was just dark and violet spreading in the atmosphere. Mainly from people in the sidewalk, small stall sellers on pedestrian path, and guys with motorbike which stopping in red light.

But this evening in my way back home from work, I stopped at kebab stall nearby home and I see a young mom with her cute little daughter that look so much like her. The young mom wearing (oh yeah well I do the clothes observation again I cant help 😦 ) blue chiffon top, legging with denim pattern which I hate, and a blue crocs slingback flats which I hate too.

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God knows how much I hate this thing 😦

She and her little daughter bought the kebab too and in the middle of the meal waiting, she spoke with a guy in motorbike that turns out her husband. What convince me is, I see a genuine love and excitement from her. That was the best feeling ever to finally see a positive gestures among the negative emotions spread in the air.

But instead of replied his wife with the same affection, I just see nothing from him. He just sat there, played with his phone and smiled once in a while. I wonder what made him smile to a phone instead of his wife? A job promotion maybe? Or a common friends jokes in the whatsapp group maybe?

 

Epilogue

Excited to see what kind of feeling and expressions we’ll discover tomorrow, don’t you too?

 

People image credits to: pexels.com
Crocs image credist to: someone at ebay.com

English · My Blabber Side · My Chaotic Philosophy · My Writer Side

Strive, Conquer, and Else

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Just everytime. I gets too emotional. Flood of Emotions.

A mental breakdown. Huge disappointment. Tired. Fear. Excite. Anger. Laugh. Perplexed.

Coward. Swirling. Comes gliding across the sky. Swim in the terrace. Knocking in. Bash the door.

Somehow a revelation. Awakening. Bright. Like a sun. Dancing. Shining. Shimmering.

The hope. The dreams. A good visualization in the head and mind. Flowing through the veins. Bringing all the life. Soul gets pumped. Energized.

I can’t really describe, nor giving example and illustration. It just…. something. Not losing nor gaining. Or maybe both losing and gaining.

I’m not talk in rhymes, not even trying. I just can’t figured out the order of the words. It’s messy right here. Everything is mixed. The colors blend into one. I’m blackout. Either full or blank. Or in between. Or none of those.

I listen to some songs. Not to facilitating the emotional conditions. Just needed some melodical tones. To make the colors less dark, to saturating. Merely as backsound. Eventho an unrelated backsound. The score director must be a worst one. I am the worst one.

Thus we catch the breath. Living in vacumm space. We scream, we light up. It’s undesirable, this kind of roaller coaster. All I can feel is just a banging head. Beating motion.

I’m in the middle of vertigo. Your eyes moves diagonally. Your voice draw a circular shape in the air. Try to catch it up, the hands grasp in between of tremors. I can’t, I said to you.

And I cry.

And I cry.

And I cry.

And the sea formed, hence we sail upon it.

Row, row, row.

Row, row, row.

 

 

 

 

Image credits to Jenny at Flickr.com