A Letter from that Confusing Girl

Dear you,

It's not your fault that's I'm that insecure of a person. It's not your fault that I need to be constantly reminded how beautiful or smart you think I am, as of for now. I know it's stupid, tiresome, frustrating...or whatever you call it. I want you to know that it's not how I want to be. You'll say that it's up to me, but it's not something I can change over night. You'll tell me not to worry, but I need something more than those words. I try, dearest, and sometimes I think I already get a hold of it, but after some time it slips away. If there's an explanation for why I change my mind so often, this is it.

Now, I'm not trying to justify my irrational thoughts or behaviors. I simply want to communicate how I feel and what I think and tell you that I think I already hold the key to the root of the problem. It all started because I didn't become what I wanted to be. In order not to feel the necessity to gain people's approval, I need to believe in myself. I need to try and thrive and succeed and it's not gonna happen in one attempt. However, when I do, I'll finally get rid of this problem. 

I'm walking towards it one step at a time. When I get there, it won't probably be you, waiting. It's okay because I know people always get to be with people at their level. Whatever I told you every time we fought, you know it's not true. You're smart and compassionate. Whatever happens at the finish line, I know for sure that I will finally be happy. I want you to be happy too.

Yours,

that girl.

Thinking Out Loud

For readers (if I still have any left), you can skip this post. This is really just me typing my depressive thoughts messily just so I won't forget so easily. You can call it a figurative rubbish.

Okay, here we go.

I started writing this at 5.17 a.m. when I promised to sleep about four hours earlier. I have just been through a series of binge watching YouTube videos. This time I started with Disney Chansons and ended up with "everybody needs to learn how to program." I was awestruck and depressed at the same time that I had to write this. How? You don't need to follow my train of thoughts. Hell, the future me may even be hella confused, but let's move on.

I think it has been a month - if not more - since I pledged to write a blog post once a day. Well this is my first since, and so you know what it means. I didn't keep the promise to myself, again. It's my main source of guilt and self-blame. I really want to grow, you know, actualize myself, and sometimes I do have the drive to do so. However, at times I see the wonderful works of others and say to myself, "Whoa, I'm never gonna be able to surpass that." 

Well you know what I'm talking about... I have always wanted to write about something useful, you know, like hard science. But then there are people like Michael with his Vsauce, Gregory & Mitch with their ASAP Science, and TED-Ed with its collaborators. That's just when social comparison crushes my willing self. (I can't believe I again used this non hard science concept to explain my situation). It's just too difficult to find a single topic that they don't already cover (and obviously do much better than I would have. After all I suck at translating difficult concepts into simpler language). My perfectionism simply takes over my withering will.

Then there are others who seem to know what exactly they want very very early. Like this guy, whose name I forgot, who at the age of 21 already became a part of (if not the lead researcher) of a linguists team studying and recording the Chimatcha, an almost extinct language spoken by native American by that time. I mean, I'm too old to still be exploring, right? I'm 22. I have an adult's responsibilities. I have to gain and it's so so late for me to learn various of things to decide what I really want to do... 

And then you know, there's this thing about myself that is concerned on how people see me. I am insecure, and you know what I'm most insecure about? That's how worthy I am as a person, you know? If I look smart enough to work with, to learn, and to adapt. I don't want to be all...empty and all.

But you know what? Well, first, there are just too many things to consider if you keep thinking about it. Just like you can't possibly read every printed book on Earth or learn every spoken language (these need statistics to look cool, but whatever), you can't master everything. If you don't start today, with one little thing, you'll end up nowhere, you know? Well ya, you're too old, but with every day or even every second, you're not getting any younger (check the death clock website to feel even more morbid). Just recall your favorite blogger, Tim, from Wait But Why. You remember he said the difference between a procrastinator and a normal person is probably just one hour of a morning exercise or one page of a book, but by the end of the year they already become a fit person or an author. It could have been you.

Second, don't give a flying fuck about what people think, man! You have seen those people, madam Curie, Zuckerberg, von Ahn, Musk, the founder of YouTube and blah blah the list goes on infinitely. They succeeded not because they wanted to success, but because they did what they loved doing. They did not succeed all at once, but they had the persistence to get up every time life pushed them down because of what else? You have studied what an intrinsic motivation can do and don't use it for your advantage? You can't be that stupid. 

Nevertheless, there are few things you need to remember. 

First of all, don't be too cocky. You wouldn't learn anything new even if you were half as pride as you are right now. Sometimes it's best to believe that you know nothing so you will be open to everything around you. 

Second of all, stop feeling like shit all the time. You know you're not so bad. Remember that favorite lecturer who never lectured? He did tell you that every person felt jealous of every other person at some aspect or another, at some point of the time, right? Yeah well hold onto that. Someone somewhere is jealous about something you have right now. Besides, if you believe that everyone has something to teach you, well, then it also means you have something to teach anyone, right?

Third and last, never, ever put up expectations on results, man. You just gotta keep doing and doing. You can't just put up non-realistic expectations relative to your effort (yeah damn right you can't fluently speak French in 2 years if all you do is merely gaining 30xp a day). Always sync up goal with action plan that is, actually acted upon, not planned. 

Oh, and last little note to self: love yourself. Stop running around chasing people's approvals or likes or cuddles or anything because you know yourself longer than anybody else. 

Someone Gone

August 2nd, 2015.

Today is the day she was born, for how long ago I don't remember. I don't remember when she came into this world or when she left. At times, the fact that I don't remember makes me feel so guilty because I don't know if the reason is I never really cared about her.

She loved me. She had always been loving me. She didn't like to say it out loud, but everything she did for me shows that she loved me a little bit too much than she should. She gave me so much and she continues to give now even when she's gone. If not for her, I wouldn't be where I am right now. I could be in some restaurant run by a capitalist, waiting on tables and wiping them clean. She gives so much, that everytime I get sad recalling her, I'm afraid that's because I selfishly don't want her to leave me alone.

It's hard not to be a theist upon recalling her. I find myself wanting to believe that she's somewhere else than deep down the ground. I want to believe that she had to leave because leaving would take her somewhere she wouldn't be hurt anymore. I want to believe that if I pray, she'll be able to hear.

More than everything, I want to believe that I'll see her again someday when my time comes.

Literally Addicted

Dear, you.
What I'm feeling right now is indescribably uncomfortable and I want you to know that it's your fault.
Do you even have any idea what you did to me?

I had been dependent on your presence to be happy. I was just like a lab rodent with you as the lever I kept pressing to inject some drugs voluntarily right into my brain.

Then, just like any addict would, I developed tolerance. I wanted more and more of you. I needed more and more of you. You knew what was happening to me

But even so, you left.

I crave for you. Upon your disappearance, I experienced what clearly were withdrawal symptoms. You know the reward system in my brain already ceased the dopamine level released in normal state because you simply gave too much.

It hurt, dear. I started being with you to get high..and now I need to be with you not to get low. You, leaving, left a huge figurative hole in my chest. It wasn't sadness, no. You took the part of me that could feel sad along with you.

At least with sadness, I could have been whole.

I tried to cure myself, dear, but the best I could do was finding your surrogates. Among all of them, romantic fiction books are the least harmful ones. At least every 26 pages, I may find a phrase that elicit the sensation similar (but not exactly the same) to what you gave to me. It's exhilaration, dear. It's the very thing that makes me feel whole again, at least for the time being.

In relief, I realize that I have found my new lever.

Probably the only difference I have with the lab rodent is that I realize what's happening to me. I realize that too much drug will kill me someday. However, very much like the lab rodent, I simply don't care. I just keep pressing, and pressing, and pressing...

The Days of a (Seemingly) Perfect Couple #1

It was yet another holiday we spent together.

To be honest, I can't really say that this one was spent together. We were together in the same room, all right, on a carpet just next to our bed, leaning to each other's back. We were doing the same activity: playing The Sims; only on separate laptops on each of our laps.

Other people don't understand why we do this, but we have been doing this since the day I knew him and we love it. I remember that I glanced at the clock and mentally noted that that day's mutual activity had been going on for 40 minutes before he finally broke the silence.

"Ren," he called. "Hmm?" I replied while putting my laptop down and then turned to his screen behind him. I knew his geeky side was gonna strike again and I was ready to give him my reward (as any good Skinnerian behaviorist would).

"Did you ever realize how unrealistic The Sims features are?" he asked, proving that I really could read him like an open book. I rubbed my palms against his shoulders and proceeded to squeeze lightly, giving him the gentle shoulder massage I knew he loved. "Tell me," I said.

"Well, look. We can learn a skill to maximum point in just one day. Then, even though we don't rehearse over time, the skill won't decline."

I rounded my arms around his neck from behind and leaned to him. "Umm yes, I agree about the learning duration part, but you can see that skill set such as cooking and cleaning actually need procedural memory, just like riding a bike, right? So, you can't really forget those."

"Hmm, then what about this?" he persisted, pointing at the needs bar. "Sleeping restores energy? You know so well that sleeping depletes energy, no matter how little calories it burns. Eating AND breathing restore energy."

At this point I couldn't contain myself and grinned. "Dear, you're playing as a werewolf AND complaining about how unrealistic the needs bar is?" I then kissed his right shoulder lightly and turned back to my game. He laughed. "Well, it's a whole different thing, Ren," he said turning and gave me a light kiss on the corner of my lips.

He then turned back and again was focused at his game as if nothing happened while I had to try hard not to blush. I picked my laptop again to place on my lap and said, "Do you really think people would love such a realistic feature if there were one? After all, we all are here to escape reality."

He chuckled. "You got a point."

I was back to my game, to the "little us", the characters I created to resemble us both as similar to reality as possible. He knew that I had done that. What he didn't know was that I made my character shyly kiss his every time he did to me in reality.

Oh, I sure know that I play games to escape reality; a reality where I can't let him see how weak I can be in front of him.

Exploring Languages #1: How Klingon is Better than English

Due to my increasing fascination in foreign languages, I decided that I would start writing a series called "Exploring Languages." This time we'll talk about Klingon, the language only spoken fluently by more or less 50 people on Earth. For you who are not familiar with it, this language - that is spoken by fictional characters who inhabit an alien planet in Star Trek series - actually has its own structured and consistent language rules: phonemes and syntax and everything.

I think it's obvious that fictional / made-up languages are always better than the already-existent ones, but here we'll semi-subjectively review five ways that make it better than English in particular.

1. It's an official stamp of nerdiness / geekiness (along with only a few other languages, such as Sindarin and R'lyehian).

2. The number of phonemes (i.e. the smallest sound unit in a language that is capable of conveying a distinction in meaning) is exactly the same to the number of letters. In other words, every letter only resembles one phoneme. There is no change of speech sound of any letter despite its position in a word or its position in relation to other nearby letters.

For example, in English, the letter "u" is pronounced differently in the word "cut" and "u-turn"; the letter "e" is pronounced differently in "bee" and "bed". Klingon doesn't have this issue, thus simplifying the act of speech.

The Klingon Alphabets

(If you're interested to listen to how these are pronounced, visit this page: http://www.kli.org/about-klingon/sounds-of-klingon/)

3. It has humorous implications from its intended purpose as the language of warriors. For example, the closest thing to translate to "Hello" is actually translated directly as "What do you want?"

Similarly, the closest thing to translate to "I love you" is " qamuSHa' " which is directly translated as "I unhate you" or "I don't hate you."

Well, it seems that the Klingons normally hate people.

4. It's both rough and romantic at the same time (I think it's universally agreed that those two adjectives combined constitute one adjective, that is "sexy.") For example, if you wanna ask, "What's the color?" then you'll actually say, "How is it stained / tinted / dyed?"

If you tell me that it doesn't turn you on, I judge you, people.

5. This language is relatively easy to be spoken especially for Indonesian people, since all vowels and almost all consonants (with the exception of "D", "gh", "H", "Q", "S", "tlh" and " ' ") it has are pronounced exactly the way Indonesians do it.

If you want to learn Klingon, know that there are reasons for the little number of Klingon fluent speakers. First off, the rules, although elegant, are alien. For example, there are only 6 words in Klingon to express colors: four of which are the colors themselves and the other two are translated as "dark" and "light". This kind of rules can easily stumble you in the learning process. Second, you will have to memorize all vocabularies from a scratch since they're nothing like any already-existent languages vocabs. You may have to stick with its dictionary longer than you expect.

However, if that doesn't stop you, you can start here:

http://klingonska.org/

or here:

http://www.kli.org/members-only/klcp-prep/

and then you can learn its basics when available on https://www.duolingo.com/ (which has currently progressed to 9% in the hatching process).

Finally, you can do some self-help by reading Marc Okrand's (the creator of Klingon language) books, primarily "The Klingon Dictionary" and "Klingon for the Galactic Traveler."

That's all, folks. Hope you had fun reading this entry.

He

A flash comes before my eyes.
I see that I woke up to a pair of deep-brown irides, staring at me. Was it an accurate verb, "staring"? Usually, when people stared, I would feel uneasy, but not then. Then, I was happy.

"Good morning, angel," said he. It was his morning routine. He would compliment me and I would blush. No matter how many times he did, I would still buy it. He, then, would proceed to softly brush his lips against mine, leading to a series of tongue wrestling and - at least 5 mornings a week - love making.

I thought I would know if someone faked affection.


Another flash comes replacing the earlier one.
It was one of those days, when he would slam his fist against some furniture and raise the pitch of his voice to call me an idiot. It started with me complaining about how little time he spent for me if not for sex. It ended with him saying that he wouldn't need sex anymore - at least not from me - because there was this woman he already started sleeping with.

I did not think that something true could slap me harder than if it were a lie.


Here I am, back to my reality. I survive, or at least I try. Sometimes I make it through the day, but sometimes I end up weeping to my sleep. What makes me sad, more than anything, is that I believed every single "L" word he uttered. I believed every reason he gave me for not being there when I was down. He made me convinced that if he could spend 25 hours a day with me, he would.

The most pathetic part about all this is that even after all he has done to me, I'm still questioning myself if I did the right thing by leaving.

"Title"

I heard the definition of "love" was giving someone the chance to hurt you, but trusting them not to.
Now, I don't know about you, but personally, I think that's more like the definition of "dumb".
Not so fun fact: half of the people who know about your vulnerability don't care, while the rest of them will use it against you.

Randall Munroe

If I were optimistic, I would greet you as my anonymous reader, assuming that I had any left after my long idle period. However, I am not.

Oh, well, this post isn't about me. It's about Randall Munroe, my new idol. If you haven't heard about him already, you are the lucky one out of 10.000 today! 

Now, I'm not gonna copy-paste a wikipedia article about him here because it'll be meaningless. I'm gonna write everything I love about him at heart and it'll be general, but you know where to go to find more detailed information.

Randall used to be a roboticist working for NASA. Yeah, you read that one right. Used to be. Then he quit for what? The answer to this made my mom scoff and it would do the same to every parent who hadn't known his work. 

He quit to become a professional web comic writer.

You'll know why once you read some pieces of his work at: xkcd.com

Now we get to the part of why I love Randall.

First, of course, because he has photo with rubber ducks.

I love that his humor is clever despite being harsh sometimes.

I especially love how he loves his wife. Despite her having been diagnosed with cancer during their engagement, he married her anyway. He then drew several comics about cancer, showing how this matter affected him. 

Then I love how I learn a lot of things from his work. He doesn't just present a lot of general knowledge. He presents a new perspective to see things. 

He has an unusual standard of moral. The one which I deem ideal.

I love that his comics teach me that exerting influence is both simpler and harder than I thought. It is the comic that enables him to reach millions of readers and gain a loyal fanbase. He doesn't, say, publish a lot of scientific journals. However, he has achieved what normal scientists doesn't do: presenting science in a light and humorous way; tickling curiosities and encouraging learning. 

At last, I love that through his comics, he repeatedly slaps me hard to be a better person.

I kinda identify with this least interesting man, which motivates me to start writing again.

Um, well, I guess that is all. At least for now.

P.S. There are probably a lot more reasons to love Randall beyond what is covered here.