English, Memoir, Racauan

Dysphoria #1: Self-made Hell

This is a work fiction. All resemblance with the reality is on purpose. Explicit content.

It is obvious that my loneliness is the main cause of all these fuss, unfaithfulness, the distorted feeling of entitlement. It is my most deceptive defensive mechanism–that the truth, in itself, is self destructing. I am alienating people in order to alienate myself from the hell that they construct.

Creating my own hell, is better than living somebody else’s heaven.

Thus, I hurt myself again, just to find a way to make me forget that I am lonely. I hurt myself with bulimia, with days of sleep, with obsessive scratching, cutting, and obsessive exercise when the manic came, sleepless nights, and after that I still want to punch any guy, or fuck any girl that I think deserve my fist or my dick. I am all open to fight or fuck because I’m sick of flight.

And I’d desperately love anybody who wants to love me. And I’d burn myself, sacrifice myself, ready to be crucify like Jesus H. Christ, and I’d beg people not to leave me until they’d got annoyed and see me as a freak and they need to leave me to stay sane because I’d drive them crazy, so I’d drive my car. I’d drive and drink myself hope to die on the road, hopefully with other assholes that swarming the highways of this city.

And all of it would be my fault. Nobody can blame or even care about my disorder, my upbringing, the system that I am in. I and only I, will be held responsible for all this mess that’s happening with my life and other people that I dragged.

The fucking shrink might say that this thought is cognitive distortion, self entitlement, but fuck you, the court, the people’s court cannot hold my disorder, my upbringing responsible for my actions. They cannot put those abstract nouns in jail, they could not rehabilitate my illness. It is I and only I, will be held responsible for my actions.

And what else should I do but to embrace what the universe has given me? I have eliminate the choice to take my own life because of the meds or because I’m a fucking coward. Anyway, I have no choice but struggle against a sea of trouble and by opposing hope to end them. Even though I know, that I will lose and drown and will face inevitable slow death. But at least I did fight back and refuse to flight.

At least I did good, at being brave. To open my eyes every day, and trying hard to get out of bed and go out to the world. To fight or to fuck. And if I have to lose love again, I think it’s just because I don’t deserve love. I am condemn to beg. For mercy, for love, for attention, only to toss it all out, when I feel lonely.

Because of this distorted feelings and thought, that I’d rather be alone, than be lonely. And the only way to be out of the misery of loneliness, is to break all ties and be perfectly alone to face the misery of the ubermench, the homo deus. Until there is no happines or misery any more, until there is no value in the narrative of my life.

It is when I became forgetful, mad, or die.

Sickness unto death.

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English, Memoir, Politik, Racauan

Three Type of Clients that You Should Avoid

WARNING!! EXPLICIT CONTENT!!

Doing business is harder during these pandemic time, everybody knows that. But how many of you did not get paid after such a hard work?

After down payment, after production, the final installment never arrived because the client think your performance is not good enough. And to file a lawsuit is logically contra-productive because lawyers, as Toby the devil said, belong to hell.

I never had those problems before the pandemic. But during this pandemic, with social distancing and zoom meetings which make communication harder, with work from home that forces me and my colleagues to work extra hours, losing our privacy, the amount of unpaid installment is high. During this pandemic, I’ve got three out of 12 partners or clients who refuse to pay final installment. So I’ve got to prepare an error fund in case these things happens, because I don’t want my employee to be unpaid especially in the situation that makes money as scarce as a real match on tinder.

And my ego is so freaking annoying because some of those missing installment is because I failed to praise the client/partner for their stupidity, and end up saying, like Soekarno to the USA during the cold War, “Fuck you and go to hell with your money. ” I should’ve learn from Soekarno that that attitude won’t make the USA went to hell. But it sure made Indonesia got into financial crisis and Soekarno got coup. Damn it you handsome feudalistic polyglotic polygamous polyamorous ultra masculine narcistic nationalistic first president! I should only read your political thinking and not the way you do business.

Anyway, the damages are already done. So I am thinking of making some sort of contigency plan in case stuff like this happens again in the future. If I can’t file a lawsuit, at least I can make a blacklist of clients that has a big possibility to not paying me. These are those clients:

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1. The Authoritarian Client


Instead of going to my office, they want me to move my whole office to their office so they can watch me work. I’ve got three projects going on simultaneously and I can’t afford to lose the other two for this one who came at me with orders as if I went to the same shitty academy like they were. Hey, I’m with George Floyd you mothafucker. And Epstein did not kill himself! Here is a song for you, you shirtless leech, sucker.

2. The Old Friend in Need


Fuck you dude. We’ve been working together for so long and I can’t believe you bail out when paying the final installment. I gave you a very low price that made me got almost nothing, and poof you gone like the current president son to his girlfriend, so I have to pay so many stuff. I know Placebo sang, “A friend in need a friend indeed,” BUT “a friend with weed is better. ” You ain’t got no weed, you made my wallet bleed.

And a “fee for friend” Should be way higher than a fee for stranger. Please don’t use that “fee for friend” proposal again.

3. The Cheaper Please Client


Here is the truth: the cheaper the client, the harder it is to satisfy them. This one client paid 5 Mills and I gave them two of my best students to make them an instagram ad for middle lower class audience.

Cheaper client tends to be cocky as if they know production. They want to cut the cost by asking to make a collaboration with their untrained team. Its going to be the deepest shithole in the worst toilet in hell. Nothing worst than a client who knows shit but claim to be an expert. Fuck you, I’ve been doing this for almost 20 goddamn years you fuckers. I only doing your project so my students can prove themself worthy of their skill. And they made you a great ad, from your awful resources you dipshit. But you are not satisfy just because your actors sucks. You were the one who picked them. Go to hell with your petite production money, fuckers.

So be very careful with those kind of clients. You have the rights to blacklist your clients.

English, Filsafat, Memoir, Racauan

Irrelevance

If you could learn any skills, downloading knowledge, how do you work in the future?

The Fact is that you are no longer special, everybody can do what you do. Are you irrelevant?

Well yes and no.

Yes, if you enter the market competition. There will always be people cheaper than you, with more skill. Younger, better, faster, cheaper, you won’t stand a chance. You will lose and thus irrelevant.

No, if you collaborate with friends, colleagues and partners. Start making projects that you love, keep learning (or downloading) the skills that you need to make the project real. Community, solidarity, collaboration is the future.

Anybody could do what you do, but nobody could replace your social and political role. You are who you are not because of your skills, but because of your friends, family, and community.

Cinta, English, Puisi

Lament L’amour

All these stories, are just a bunch of words and interpretations.

You name the stars, the scars, the bars you put up high to hide to reach to confine to define to find….

You and me in different cell but the same prison.

Freudian dreams, Jungian Myths, Lacanian Imagination and Kafkaesque absurdity…

Don’t you think reality is just another story?

With you I am rock and roll; that sleepless drunk poet looking for the devil, pretending to pay a debt with something he no longer have: his soul.

Without you, my mood is jazz and blues, ups and downs with sax and brass an ex with grass then sex and breast.

I never have anywhere to go, so I follow every ho who says land ho! I guess they always want to settle in an island but the wave give ride to the night and right, I have no right to stay for the devil hath take my soul and the full moon tide is my mood.

My jazz and blues mood. My jizz and bliss food.

No wonder you’re gone for good.