The Old Man and The Young(er) Girls

I just asked this question to a friend: is it a bad thing to hang out with older men often (in public or personal space)? Let's define "older". My friend thought 35 yo was older. I was talking about 50 to 60-ish years old. Men double my age, or almost triple even.

Why hang out with them at the first place? First, I have a couple older friends who are just smart and fascinating, precisely because they have reached that age when they can tell you anything that you need to know. Well, of course anything does not mean everything. But, trust me they have enough information to amuse you for days. Second, I guess it comes back to nationalities. All of my older friends are foreigners with interesting jobs. Don't imagine the typical Indonesian bapak-bapak or even your (or my) own father. Thus, these friends of mine have a witty sense of humour. It's almost like they cultivated that skill altogether during the same time. I still haven't been able to find an equal comparison in my younger friends.

Why the question came up? Because I was thinking about one comment coming from a younger person. This man, I just met him a couple of times, once said that he felt sorry that I had to go back and hang out with my (old) friend. I told him that my friend was okay, and that we're having a great time. So pity's rejected, thank you very much. And then another friend commented that these old guys sounded like the typical old bule perverts. I told him that they were always flirtatious but that's just for the fuck of it. I mean, they didn't think it's perversion. And I, to be honest, don't care as long as they don't over-do it. Since they're smart enough, they know when to stop.

Coming from a friend who's known me since 10 years ago, he perceived the men first and not me. But, I'm sure if it's coming from other people who judge things fast (as most of us do), it won't sound pretty. Gold-digger is the nicest way to say it, slut or bitch is another way to name it. "It" here is translated into "me": she-who-hangs-out-with-old-bule-for-god-knows-what-reason. I was thinking about this issue when I met my (old) friend in a public space. No, we didn't hold hands; we didn't act like a couple since we're not; but I thought I could feel people were staring (or maybe that's just me being paranoid).

The problem is even I tend to think the same. Especially if there's a clear evidence that the couple IS a couple. If I see a young (or slightly young) Indonesian woman with a clearly older foreign dude, I will have the same prejudice in my mind. The woman is not better than a stupid full-make-up-gold-digger and the man is no better that an old-perverted-dickhead. Why? (again) I asked that question. I think it's the general way our society perceive this issue. And I, embarrassing as it is, am still in line with these narrow-minded people. Fuck.

See, that's why hanging out with older people gives benefits. Now I realise something quite important: basic prejudice and how I'm still trapped in it. I think from now on I shall learn to give myself enough time before start bitching about other people and their life.

"They [women] believe that inside every heartless bastard is a small boy yearning to be loved. But their theory falls short because what they don't understand is that there are certain types of heartless bastard who if hacked in two would only be found to contain yet more heartless bastard." -Mike Gayle-

I think to become a true bastard, you have to be heartless. You cannot share feelings, pride, guilt, or whatever that will identify you as a person with a heart (no matter how rotten it is). If you think that feelings, especially guilt, will haunt you for the rest of your life, forget it. Go back to the righteous way and become a decent proper guy. It's not bad, both heartless bastard and decent proper guy. As long as you know where to position yourself in the society.

I, once, was faced by massive guilt. It was too massive, I pitied the person. Luckily, I was not the one who experienced it. And that pity slowly turned into disgust, somehow, because I thought that guilt shouldn't be dramatised. Especially, as my friend would have said it, after you have been warned.

I can be a cold heartless bitch from time to time. It requires so much anger and hate to turn me into one. Normally, I react from a victim role, either victimised by the universe or someone. When rage controls me, I just turned into this nasty nasty you-don't-want-to-see-me-ever person. It takes skill though to drive me to the dark side.

My point is don't be something or someone that you don't like. Because you will see your reflection on the mirror sooner or later. If later, you don't like what you see, that's not the mirror bearer's fault. That's your fault for failing to recognise yourself well.

Moving on

I was half wishing that by the time I posted anything on this blog, my latest dumped-by-BF-on-birthday crisis had ceased and passed away. Unfortunately, and without any significant surprise on my side, it's still there.

I will not probably name it a "crisis" anymore. I'm feeling less depressed than before. I managed to find out what is wrong with my head (cause I honestly thought I was in a process of going mental, like proper sick in the head). I succeeded ignoring everyone at the office, thus making myself less annoyed. In general, I can say that I'm doing better.

BUT, I also know that I cannot lie and say everything is sparkling good. Have you ever been in that situation when mother nature is just taking the piss at you now? It's like the whole universe conspiring to push your buttons, and you are left there wanting to scream your lungs out: WHHHHHYYYYYYYY??!! You know?

It's funny that in this specific moment, I can always point out what's wrong with me but not with other people. Everybody else seems perfect, have perfect life with perfect house and perfect spouse, not to mention the perfect newly-born-baby. While, I'm the perfect sore loser who recently just got dumped and went into severe burn-out stress with dead-end job. See? It's so easy to make myself feel or look like a sorry-ass-cow.

BUT (again), everybody keeps on telling me that blaming myself at this point will prove useless. First, it's not really my fault. So, I might be crazy... a bit, but that doesn't mean my craziness was the only cause of the fail relationship. Second, it takes two to tango, said my sister. And sure that sounds right. I can't continue blaming myself for everything. Even though, victimising yourself can be so entertaining (in an obscene-depressive-horrid way). My beloved ex contributed the shit that I (we) had to go through.

They are baby steps; I have only made baby steps. Perhaps, baby midget steps... not that it makes significant difference. Point is, I don't want to put this issue as a central issue anymore. It's bloody frustrating. It exhausts me. It makes me feel that every dude in the world is just a different form of punching bags. Or a sack of potatoes.

Let's put some mantras: getoveritgetoveritgetoveritlupalupalupalupalupalukalukalukalupalupalupa

Amen.