Medok Tourette

Fluent English. Excellent pronunciation. Anecdote here and there. Fluent. Fluent. MEDOK. MEDOK. MEDOK. Fluent. Fluent Fluent.

Does that ever happen to you? You’re speaking effortlessly and words are just flowing out of your lips like it’s their birthright to do so. Doing their thing. Not a hint of accent giving away neither your origins nor your background. The audience is listening. Some yawing, but most would pay attention as your tale got richer and heavier. Then suddenly you speak with your native accent. A super heavy one at that too. Perhaps a Javanese English one. No idea why. It just came out that way. Like they’ve been hiding underneath it all, waiting patiently for moments when you finally let your guard down to jump out and show the world who they really are.

And as instantaneously as it happens, you notice the tiniest reaction from your audience. That microsecond jilt in the blue shirt’s eyebrows. Red dress just dilated her pupil. Green bandana leans his (or her, can’t really tell from the front of room) body forward by an inch. And your whole system goes on alert mode. “Mayday. Mayday. We got a MEDOK attack! Not a planned one!”.  So your brain starts churning, and beads of sweats start popping. You can feel your shirt inching closer to your now damp back. And the accent just won’t go away. “It’s a tough one , this one.”

There are two things that could happen from this point. You take a breather, a full pause, coining it to dramatic effect where you would then collect your mind and continue when your system got the point that all is well. Second option, run Lola run. Yes. Wishing it to end right there and then, you run until the end of your spiel. Speed. Speed. Words. Flying out of your lips. No longer superfluous. No longer enchanting. No longer mesmerizing. You drench the room with words, words and more words. A jackpot of gibberish. Does it solve your medok-ness? Most likely it would just make it worse. So not only you’re spewing words at high speed, most of them would start to sound foreign. And that’s when all hell break loose.

At least in my world that is.

#Flirting with public speaking for a good while, at moments I feel that speaking in front of an audience could be something pursue-able. After plenty chances to do so, I realize  ermm… probably not so much. What I love most about public speaking is the writing part of prepared speeches, and the interaction banters on the impromptu ones such as being a host or master of ceremony. But above all, I absolutely enjoy the sound of laughters, much more so when I’m up on the stage. They’re like my little fireworks that keeps me going and going. Testing boundaries. (Sometimes not a a very wise thing to do)


About inifeli

Sketch a lot, write a lot, read a lot. Live a lot.

Well, I'd say....

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