Wednesday, September 28, 2011

Friends

A couple of days ago, I was going to bed after a long day at the office. I was texting an acquaintance, asking him few things, while fumbling with my pillows. And then, I text another friend, asking whether we could hang out on the weekend. I don't know why, probably partly it was because my friend didn't reply to my text, I started thinking about my "friends". Exactly, what constitute a friend? A mutual understanding? Shared interests? An invisible, yet strong bond? A fuzzy warm feeling every time you're in their company? Trust? The need to have that person in your life? The number on your facebook account?

I tried to see who the people that I missed that night. And few names came up. Those people in the list would be contacted soon or had been contacted recently by me. And then I tried to see how many people from the list who would contact me just to see how I was doing. There were only two names which I was certain of. Because these two people had just contacted me recently just to know whether I was okay or not. And partly because they missed me, like I have missed them.

Another question came to the surface. Who would think that I am a significant part of their life (other than my family, of course)? And again, only two names came out. And then I tried to see the big picture, trying to imagine whether I have done injustice to my "friends" with my weird assessment. Well, there was nothing in the big picture: just a vast meadow with a couple of tress and a bright blue sky. A nice view indeed, but it was empty.

Then, I text a friend from college. Basically asking him whether he had this experience before: realising that maybe the people whom you considered as friends were no more than acquaintances, which is not a bad thing, of course, and that to actually find a real friend is a difficult task that will be taken no matter what. He said he knew what I was rambling about, but he managed to convince himself in the end that he lived and strive for himself. Wise. Selfish. But, that's human. I'm selfish too by thinking I have more acquaintances than friends (because maybe, just maybe, there are people/friends who will disagree with me).

I continued my "discussion" by calling one friend on the list. He was up thankfully. So I told him my general thought that night. He, as predicted, laughed and told me that I was making a premature conclusion. It might be true what I felt at that moment, but it could very well change in the near future. When I told him I was going to write this thought, he said I should, so I would see the difference in the future. He always has optimist views about me, that's why I like being friends with him.

I felt no sadness that night. A bit relieved actually. I still have friends. Not a big number, but they are priceless. And somehow, I didn't feel the typical loneliness that night.

Tuesday, September 20, 2011

Questioning moral values

I have been reading the media cover about the recent raping case. A woman was gang-raped while she was on her way home in the evening. She was taking a public minivan, locally called angkot. And then not long after the incident was reported and spread out like a disease, the governor of Jakarta made a ridiculous statement, asking women not to wear "inviting" clothes to avoid getting raped. His words turned out to be his doom since most of the Jakartaners cursed his statement which forced him to deliver an official apology.

I spent my morning reading what other people had to say about the incident. And I have to agree with most of them. How can you blame women for being the victims? How can miniskirt or any revealing outfits be seen as an invitation for men to rape women wearing such clothes? How can anyone think that it is normal to see revealing outfits are seen as invitations for men to rape the wearers? Does this mean women wearing a hijab will not get raped? How can they be sure? Have they stopped themselves raping women in a hijab?

All these questions of course are left to be unanswered. I am not in the position to answer them, nor trying to find out the answers. These questions, however, show how bad is the perception of women by the Indonesian society (men and women). Ask conservatives old people in your local neighborhood. They would have said what the Jakarta governor said in a hushed voice. Shame on Fauzi Bowo for saying it out loud, but I have to say I am not surprised.

I have once written about my own experience being harassed by the local community just because they thought I was acting immoral by: 1) dating a foreigner, 2) staying the night at my boyfriend's house. And they used their religion as their justification to be involved in my personal life. They said they were trying to protect me. Rite. I wonder where did these people go when a rape incident, like the one I just described, happened? How are they protecting their girls? Note, the rapists of course were Indonesian men, not foreigners.

It is sad, but I think Indonesian people really need to think and reassess their so-called moral values. After all, this the country where you can casually talk about a corruption case in your office while you're sitting in a public car, saying how stupid those people for getting caught, and women got raped because of their outfits and ethnicity.

Added note: I just read the news this morning about the journo beatings at one of Jakarta's high schools. Apparently the journo was trying to cover a "regular" showdown between two high schools when he got beaten instead and his camera was taken by these spoiled brats. After that other journos decided to report the incident to the police, and since the police did their utmost, the journos went on a demonstration in front of the said school. The kids, probably were provoked by such action, decided to attack the journos again. One kid actually boasted the whole incident on his twitter account, but later refused to admit his wrongdoing to the police. What the hell is wrong with this country? Why do people take comfort in violence and abuse? Somehow, I fear this is a part of the whole "globalization".

Sunday, September 11, 2011

Blog entries

I stopped writing on my multiply account a couple of months ago because I was afraid I was just busy being naggy and cheesy. Actually, I was being naggy and cheesy. I just didn't want to admit it before. But it came to a halt when I reread my entries. Oh gods, I loved drama. I think I still have the tendency to write a drama on my blog (or multiply or whatever) but somehow I managed to implant a sense of shame in my head.

So, following the recent emotional breakdown, which I managed to write in form of a cold prose (hopefully it looked like that), I still haven't got the energy to write about anything interesting other than my dying heart (oh please...). I started doing the 30-day-movie challenge, which proudly to say, has not gone more than one entry. I'm lazy that way. But at least writing about movies that I have watched made me feel slightly better. You know, I prefer to write something entertaining that teary. I find it annoying now. I have been doing it for so many years, it just has to stop.

A friend used to say that it's always easier for him to write when he was sad or upset or distraught, compared to when he's happy or contend. He thought he expressed sadness better than happiness in writing. I used to think that way, until recently... until I felt sick to the guts reading my own writings. Now I have problems expressing sadness and happiness. Great. It's easier to talk about something general, like what I'm doing at the moment: the difficulty of expressing one's feelings (in case you haven't figured the whole purpose of this writing up until now).

It's in my head, I know. I mean no one will actually point a finger at me and tell me that I'm a crybaby because I always curhat---tearing my own heart---on my blog. People just have to stop reading and move along. Simple, like caking a bake *grin*.

The main thing about writing is, whether it's a blog entry or an article for a newspaper, you need to invest time, so you will produce a magnum opus (yea right). And writing things which are not related to how sad or dramatic you are is pretty hard, man. I think I have said it before... I'm an emotional writer: I write about emotions :D