One Fine Day

Today, everything was perfectly fine. Just like any other days. I stayed in my room all day, wrote stuff, watched movies, had meals, had a coffee, replied mom's text, drank a lot of water, paid for the room rent, talked with my next-door mate. Everything was fine, but not until my chest told me I wasn't. I felt something heavy inside. Something I didn't know what to call. I cried before I knew it. 

"Is it all worth it?" I asked myself. I saw myself sitting in front of my laptop, along with my black book, pencil, eraser and a cup of coffee. Then, I saw myself on other days. I did the same thing, in the same place. 

"No, it is not," someone answered. 

My mind flew to days when I was younger. I was seven. I saw myself smiling while writing a story about a birthday girl. 

"Why didn't you tell her before? Why did you even let her have this silly ambition in such a young age? Why did you let that little girl believes on an arbitrary dream? Why didn't you warn her that she might regret having this desire?"

No one answered.

I cried louder. 

The next thing I know, was this someone inside my head, telling myself about how worthless I am. 

"You're not even worth the life you live," that someone said. "You've been telling lies in your whole life. You told yourself you can do this, while you know you can't. You're not good enough. You're a failure. People will make fun of you. Ooh, maybe they won't even bother making fun of you at all, because they just don't give a shit to you. They don't even know you're exist. 

"You're not a daughter your parents proud of, you're not a friend your friends care about, you're just not a human any human gives a shit to. 

"Maybe it would be better if you don't exist at all. Your mom will only have your sister and she'll be fine. Your ibu kos will have another tenant for this room and she'll be fine. Your best friends will have another person to befriend with and they'll be okay. Your crushes will have another girls to have crush on and they'll be good.  

"You can't do anything. You can't be anyone. You're nothing and you're no one. Your struggle is worthless, your tears, heavy breath and self-sabotaging mind is such a waste. Your life is such a waste.  

"Why do you even live? You shouldn't have even lived at all."

I shut it up. I couldn't breath. I gasped for air to fill my lung. My tears was all over my pillow case.

Then, the voices stopped. My head was back in silence. I was breathing again. I stopped crying. 

I know that someone is still there. She's in my head, waiting for another fine day to emerge, sabotage my mind, fill my chest with heavy stuff that I didn't even know I kept for all this time.

Another Home

A long time ago, there was a little girl who lived in the most memorable place on earth. People named that place Jogja. She named it Another Home. She lived there with her mother and little sister. Sometimes, her father came to visit. He would came along from a place called Hometown and brought her another piece of happiness. Whenever her three precious people was around, she knew that it couldn't be any happier. Until it was not.

Pantsing: WIP Update #2

Dear, you

It's been two weeks since my first WIP update, so I'm not gonna tell you my day-to-day update, it will just be my overall update. So, I read about a novella competition that was held by an online writing platform and I got so excited by this, in the several few days I spend my days, sitting in front of my laptop and just write a lot of words.

The first chapter was published and I was so happy about that. I planned to get my second and third chapters, by the next couple days but it was just seemed impossible until last Friday. So, I didn't really outline a lot for this novella, because I was so sure that I'm gonna finish this without having to outline every single thing. And the fact that I was able to express more about myself through the way of pantsing, have made me so encouraged and discouraged at the same time.

I would say that most of the days was me writing garbage words, knowing that I'll ditch them right away. But I was just so frustrated if I write nothing, so I was just convinced myself that it'll be okay to write garbage. So I did it. And what's magic from writing thousands of garbage is that at the end of the day, at the end, it's almost guarantee that I'll find this magical thing, where I just could see where this heads to and get so surprised by the story that just flow after I rewrite those garbage. More or less, I think, it's really like me writing a blog post like this.

I always just write everything in my head and at the end, I'll rewrite everything. And for most of the days I didn't feel good about by day, because I mostly write in the morning before work, and because of that didn't feel good feeling about my work, felt bad on myself for the entire day. I can't even get track of my wordcount.

Yours,
Kalista

Girls and Their Make-Ups

"You look good."

That's what you, and other billions of people say whenever I wear make up: liquid powder, lipstick, blush on (most of the times), mascara and eyeliner (sometimes).   

I wasn't really sure if that was a compliment though, because what you see was not the real me. It was me covered by a mask. But I smiled and thanked you anyway.  

That scene was repeated over and over, until I strongly hold this believe that I do look good when I put on make-up. No make up, no look good. Like Pavlov's dog who salivated when a bell rang. No bell, no saliva. Association between make-up and looking good is supposed to be as irrelevant as saliva and bell, but thanks to Pavlov's conditioning theory experiment, which has proven that it is possible to manipulate human's (and dog's) behavior through a made-up condition. 

By nature, dogs only need food to salivate. No bells needed. The same case happens for me. By nature, I am just as good as I already am. No make-up needed. So, who made me associate looking good with make-up? Your words did. Just like what the bell did to the food. You've successfully manipulated my believe about my look through your conditioned stimuli. 

Unfortunately, this conditioned stimuli has spread to all over world. I told you that I started to feel anxious about my look and started to loose track of things I matter the most, after being conditioned by make-up. I wanted to go back to days when I didn't need a conditioned stimuli to feel good about myself. But I just couldn't, because you (and other people in the entire world) keep on telling me that: I look pale without make up; I look prettier with make up; I look more presentable with make up; I look more put together with make up; and the lists goes on (things that you don't say to boys though they don't use make up, which is not fair).   

Finally, I came to a conclusion. If you could manipulate my behavior, why couldn't I manipulate my own behavior? I'll create my own stimuli (to go out without make up) and create my own conditioned response (to feel good about myself). It does not just reverse myself to the unconditioned response, but also gives a new conditioned stimuli to you, that I do look good without make up. But if that theory does not apply in this-already-massively-spread-conditioned-stimuli, then, there's nothing I could do more than changing my own believe about my own self. 

Because at the end, it's not that you-look-good comment that I'm begging for in life. It is my passionate work that I'm striving for, and value to others that I'm serving for. My truest life goals will definitely be good without me having to be manipulated by your irrelevant words. 

Convey Messages in A Story: WIP Update #1

Dear, you

Here is my first weekly WIP update and I'm gonna start on August, 21st. Monday and Thursday are supposed to be hectic days at work, because those are days where children have classes and make me have to work for nine hours straight. Usually, I got home with no strength left, especially to work on my writing. But that Monday, I didn't know what possessed me, surprisingly, I was able to stay awake from eight to eleven pm, to actually outline this goddamn book. And what more surprising than that, was I created a lot of breakthrough and highlighted bunch of questions that I need to answer on the following days. That was such a good start for me to proudly announce in this post. 

On the next day, August 22nd, was the day where I felt like craving for motivational references to keep me on the creative mood. I didn't outline a lot, but I did get some enlightenment from writing videos I watched. That was about how fictions are supposed to be a great way to convey messages about humanity and morality; and how a story should make the readers think long after the book, which I've forgotten during this entire outlining process. So, I noted that in my Black Book (that's how I name my outlining notebook) and created another breakthrough on the following day, according to that new insight.

On August 23rd, after thinking about status quo in my society, I wrote some messages that I wanted to deliver through my writing, I came back to my outline, re-read one of my first notes in the Black Book and decided to add a new PoV. This PoV will follow a male main character who lives in a whole different society from the main female character's, showing a contrast of thought, inner conflict and actions. Which I think, would be really good to enrich the message I'm trying to deliver. 

On the following two last days of this weekly update, I didn't outline anything. During those days, I wasn't able to actually implement new ideas that I had on the previous days into a coherence outline, which kinda make me frustrated. So, instead of forcing myself to keep on working, I gave myself a break, did a workout, read a book (The Hate U Give by Angie Thomas), went to a reunion event and had a conversation with a friend until past midnight. I'm constantly trying to keep my sanity intake, because that is the ultimate reason for me going through this journey. To keep on living, instead of merely existing or worst, being crazy. 

Next week, I'm hoping you to stay around, because I want to get more things together, to discover more answers to questions I've outlined, to see more through the eye of the characters and of course, to keep on cherishing this beautiful yet frustrating life. 

Yours,

Kalista

Intro to WIP Updates

Dear, you

After thinking for too long, I finally decided to create this label. I've been tracking my WIP progress for myself, but it didn't seem to work. Instead of making a progress, I got stuck. I kept on changing, apparently, every single thing about my WIP, but none were seem to bring me somewhere closer to the end of my first draft. 

So, I looked back to my 22 years of life and found an incredibly surprising fact about myself (and most people, I believe): I managed to finish things that were obliged by something beyond myself, I hated them, but I did them anyway because of the urge from people or systems. So, here I am, trying to include that 'something-beyond-myself thing', which in this case, you, to track my progress in finishing thing that I'm truly passionate about. 

I'll be posting regularly (either weekly or monthly) under this label and update my WIP progress. I'll be super honest about everything during the process. There might be some days where I'll be excited because of the progress I make and there might be days where I'll be stressed out and depressed, because of writers block or any other type of blocks. But, the point is, to include you in holding myself accountable for finishing this WIP. 

At the end of the day, I know I'll still be the only one and will always be the only one who have to do this work until the end. But knowing the fact that you are reading my struggle, at the very least, will constantly remind me of my responsibility on you, to show you that I really am capable of finishing what I've started. 

Yours, 

Kalista

The Self-Centered Universe

Recently, as my ideas-detector started to get back on its activated mode (it was on hiatus for a while, due to the self-hate I suffered from), I've gained back my observational-thought, which helped me to survive as a thinking-breathing-living being.   

At work, there is another full-time employee whom I spend most of my working-time with. We sit next to each other, separated by a-meter-long desk and a pile of the children's homework we have to score. When we're bored, we ask questions about each other's life, and this is where I found a theory which I've heard somewhere (not sure where it was). It is called the self-centered universe. 

We talked about last night, when I got lost to the location of an event that I had to attend. That was such a short-unintentional talk, we laughed for a while (faking a laugh to be exact), it ended within seconds, and we were back in silence. Few moments later, another conversation popped up, it was a work-related-stuff. But in a strange way, I didn't get it. I should've said something correlated to the topic, instead I chattered about how I managed to get home after the event last night, which the talk has ended a moment ago. It took me a while to realize how stupid my response was. And I was not the only one being stupid. She was too, made me have to clarify what actually the talk was about. But still, it happened for hundred times later.  

In self-centered universe theory, every person acts as the center of the universe, making there's no single particular center but millions. In this term, center does not necessarily mean a physical form of a thing which physically becomes the only source of focus of the entire universe. Center is a perspective. According to the short-unintentional talk above, we could spot a tendency to drag the topic of new conversation to the topic of former conversation. The reason for this was because we have this perspective that the former conversation was the one which we played a role as the main character. We love being on the spotlight, we want to bring the rest of the talk to the stage where we gain the most attention from and it's no difference with any other aspects of life.   

As long as human bring this big guy inside our heads (a.k.a brain), we always will bring this portable stage everywhere. This is the stage where we wish other people to see, to admire, to give standing ovation upon, to worship, because we believe that we're the main character that deserve such attention. No one wants to be on any one else's stage, because we don't want to play as a mere side kick. Unfortunately, it is not only us who hold this believe. Everyone else does. We know this, but we pretend like we don't. Instead of bringing others to collaborate and create an amazing play, we compare each other's stage and become showy of our own false believes that we're the best actor. 

There are only two possibilities where this could lead to: first, we go no where; second, we ruin each other's stage just for the sake of our own's.   

P.S: this post is written to celebrate the independence day.