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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Filsafat, Racauan

Rencana Manik

Kau seperti klise yang diulang-ulang, walau sesungguhnya jauh dari pikiran banyak orang.

Seperti semua kebenaran politis yang kau paksa untuk anut tapi sebenarnya kau tak suka-suka amat, jadi munafik dalam dirimu karena pada kenyataannya kalau bisa kau langgar, kau langgar.

Aku tidak di tempat yang cocok untuk menilaimu, aku tahu, dan kau… Kau jauh dari tempat tinggi untuk menilaiku. Kita toh berbuat semau-maunya saja dalam cerita ini–cerita dimana di versimu kau korbannya dan aku penjahatnya. Sementara di versiku penjahat dan korban adalah orang yang sama: aku.

Terlalu banyak drama untuk jiwa setua kita. Sementara kawan dan sanak saudara sudah beranak pinak seperti marmut, kelinci, tikus atau kecoak, kita macam spesies mau punah yang tidak mampu regenerasi, spesies yang kalah dalam kompetisi Lamarck-Darwin.

Kita pesakitan yang terjangkit wabah bernama intelektualitas dan bias kelas dan fatalistik, banalitas; kita percaya manusia menuju kepunahan dan kita berusaha tidak jadi munafik dengan cara memodifikasi diri supaya kita melampaui manusia macam ubermench Nietzsche: kita mau menyatu dengan kimiawi artifisial dan mesin-mesin sehingga kita tidak perlu berkembang biak macam binatang. Kita jadi manusia yang lebih manusiawi: egois, dan berusaha untuk abadi.

Karena apa gunanya beranak pinak, kalau kau tak bisa mati?

Lalu kita buat kemutakhiran diri dengan obat-obatan, campuran mesin, dan komputerisasi otak. Siapa lagi yang butuh memori biologis kalau kita bisa tersambung ke memori data kolektif dengan penanggalan karbon dan jam atom paling akurat?

Kasih sayang, seks, cinta, petualangan, kebencian, rasa, semua akan jadi hiburan semata dalam realita virtual kita. Lalu makna juga tak lebih dari fabrikasi. Manusia yang tak mampu berevolusi cuma jadi kucing jalanan saja, cuma perlu kita steril supaya tidak merepotkan.

Manusia terlalu merepotkan dan semakin lama semakin tertebak, terjebak dalam putaran kuasa yang itu-itu saja sementara polusi tidak berhenti melebar dan polisi semakin tidak mengerti tugasnya menjaga apa.

Sudahlah. Tidurkan dengan euthanasia. Supaya semua cepat berganti, karena aku sudah tidak sabar lagi.

Untuk mati dan hidup lagi.

Filsafat, Politik, Racauan

Pelukis Tanpa Kelingking

horses2

Kau dan aku adalah debu-debu semesta. Kita begitu kecil dan tak berarti, maka kurasa kita harus menerima kenyataan ini. Semua hal yang kita anggap penting hari ini, dari agama sampai cinta, cuma dongeng belaka. Tenang saja, bahkan ketika kiamat datang, cuma kita yang mati, semesta jalan terus dan akhirat cuma ada di buku-buku dan artefak yang kita tinggalkan.

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