When friends do poke and ask “What do you do every day then?”
I too wonder.
Time passes by. Feels like I’m sitting on the sideline. Watching all the commotion. Some busy chasing the next diamond, the next Birkin bag. Some mindlessly trampling down the street pushing each other out of the way. A mass of chaos that keeps capturing the next human being in line, turning them yet into another one of their own, whoever’s willing to join the big charade really. Slaving away staring at numbers who don’t talk back at you. Pining over ideas and new idioms trying to convince the world that their books are worthy of a ten dollar download.
I sit on the sideline and I drink my cup of coffee and I think of all that have happened between the simple life that existed in the backyard of my parents’ hometowns and this.
We’re all searching for something.
What else would drive a mother to rip her vagina and push a living and breathing human being out just to let them be raised by monthly-paid, fresh-from-the-village-strangers? What else would fuel a father to face the mess that Jakarta’s traffic is, 3 hours each day? What else would burn the fire of a young woman to work 14 hours a day and letting go of her packed social life?
We’re all searching for something better.
For ourselves, for our parents, for our children, for nameless faces asking for change by the traffic light, for orphans and the screaming kids across the globe. For that gnawing hole inside our soul.
And things we will find in the forms of success, however one chooses to describe it. Money, fame, amount of Twitter followers, fried chicken on the table, a wife, a son, a granddaughter, a kiss on the cheek, a one-in-the-morning texts saying “What you doing?”, a hug from a stranger, gratitude, a warm house, a big house, a plane, a bag, diamonds, a ride from neighbor, a trip to the hospital, a way to pay the hospital fee, strangers giving change, acceptance, forgiveness, affection, a simple “Have you eaten yet?” message from a particular individual.
All things you can think of achieving, you will achieve. And many more.
And the wheel won’t stop churning. Perhaps out of habit and also a little out of fear. That if you stop turning, your whole universe would collapse. And so you’re swallowed whole by your own understanding of how life should be lived.
As I watch the mass stab each other at the back with their jeers and self-importance hurls, I sit still and let my universe collapse. I am not doing anything. I am not waiting for anything. I am unknowing my understandings of how the world should function. I am living now. And I am watching my universe crumble and see to it that I, will not go down with it.
“So what you do these days with all your time?”
“I’m witnessing the tearing down of my universe.”
I’ve actually crumbled more times than you care to know in the past few months. But I’m still here. Whacking out stubborn words into lines. Brushing transparent paint into shapes. And if I crumble again tomorrow, there will still be words and paints waiting for my glue to dry.
And that. I guess is what I’m doing.