Its a beautiful sunday

It’s a beautiful Sunday to begin with, Sunday 14th October 2018, sat in a cool-aired Starbucks in Epicentrum.

many things had happened in the last a few days, I bought a mattress but wait its not just a mattress, its Manduka.

And every Tuesday I do yoga, namaste bitches, I do yoga.

And every Wednesday or Thursday I jog with Allianz Runners Club in Epicentrum.

So I'm heading my life towards a good goal. Hopefully. 

Today I paid attended premier movie called "Tengkorak", 1 out of 10 I would give 5 broken condoms, its horrible. Due to be released on the 18th of October 2018. don’t watch it. Sorry not sorry, just being honest.

I mean I could watch the festival bebas batas instead of this.

  

Its been ages since the last time I blog, and hoping to make a habit out of it.

I bought my domain a year ago, and the template as well. 

So here are the stuff that I'm hopefully can conquered before the end of 2018.

1. 30 days music challenge 

2. Blogging and ranting about he 100PMFF

3. Finish all the books that I bought 

4. Keep on yogaing, running, and hopefully adding cycling (heck I bought the bike years ago when I'm still in JTDR trans) and maybe swimming

5. Planning to go on a solo trip next year, either go to the beach or visiting Rudolf (been thinking about this years ago) 

So as you can see its just all the plans that was planned since last year and carefully discussed the year before and imagined two years before. Lol

So recently the havoc of this fucked up country reaches its toll. 

A lot of lgbt pages of facebook was publicly viewed and shamed. So I thought to my sell on clearing up my real facebook, boy o boy a lot of things showed up and caught my attention. My mom has a facebook account now. All the cute guys that I followed now turns to dadbod, with kids, Jeremy my roommates in Singapore, Nicholas the hot boy from UTA, probably there are more updates but mostly meh, him married, she had kids, boring stuff. I don’t wanna consumed on that negativity.

In Loving Memory of Nico Prayoga Sinaga

13 November 1983 - 27 February 2017

The funny and cute guy from science 1, and went on becoming a tax officer, leaving behind two beautiful very young daughters. #oneofmycrushinHighSchool

2nd Year 100PMFF Day 1

The second year of this festival, as on the first one they ditch me, all of my efforts and when I was sick they just scratch my name. boom I do not exist. I remember what a hypocrite I am when I talk to Fajar about it as he clearly stated he won't be coming back again on the 2nd year.

So here I am, again. Why? I don’t know, I can use my annual leave on a better advantage, like visiting my hometown. 

I don’t know, I just do it I guess, due the fact that it was too hectic in the office and I needed a break and some part of it that I want my name to be mentioned in the catalog (a web admin who only did his part for like 40% and the rest of it was Oxal).

Speaking of a hypocrite, yes the festival was governed by a few people only although they said we are all replaceable. Boo hoo.

So, the first day, it was the opening we played 'just Charlie'. Went there didn’t do much. Whatever

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Aceh

Copy paste statusnya Irmia Fitriyah

Sebuah refleksi

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Banci-Banci di Aceh

Saya pertama kali ke Aceh ketika masih kecil, tahun 80an. Waktu itu belum diberlakukan syariah Islam tapi masih masa konflik. Di rumah masih ada foto saya, ibu, dan kakak perempuan di Masjid raya tanpa jilbab. Masa itu jilbab tidak diwajibkan di Aceh.

Lalu, berpuluh-puluh tahun kemudian--pasca tsunami--saya bekerja di Aceh. Di masa itu jilbab sudah diwajibkan. Syariah Islam sudah diberlakukan. Jilbab menjadi penanda utama. Tubuh perempuan--terbukti di banyak literatur--selalu dijadikan simbol kesalehan.

Begitulah, daerah khusus selalu mendapatkan perlakuan istimewa. Mungkin strategi untuk melupakan masa lalu yang kelam. Tidak seperti di Timor Leste di mana konflik dituliskan, luka-luka dibicarakan, di Aceh hal-hal seperti itu dibungkam. Khas Indonesia sejak jaman orde lama--membiarkan luka-luka tidak dibicarakan. Maka, wajar kalau kita tumbuh menjadi masyarakat munafik. Kita melupakan untuk melanjutkan hidup. Kita tidak menghadapi luka-luka kita. Kita ingin melupakan saja. Biarkan saja yang lalu biar berlalu. Itu slogan kita.

Tak salah bila sepanjang hidup kita di Indonesia, kekerasan malah ditertawakan, dibuat meme. Sok tegar. Sementara di dalam rapuh. Tak heran bila kekerasan terus terjadi. Kita enggan merasa. Menyangkal selalu lebih baik untuk kita. Apalagi bila kekerasan terjadi pada kaum yang dianggap sampah, waria.

Biarkan saja mereka dapat kekerasan. Mereka menyimpang. Itu kesalahan mereka sendiri. Mungkin begitu pikir para pelaku yang kemungkinan melihat sanak saudaranya dianiaya di depan matanya ketika ia masih kecil. Mungkin mereka melihat sanak saudaranya ditendang, dipopor senapan, ditembak bagian kakinya hingga kesakitan, ditembak hingga mati menggelepar. Dan, itu disaksikannya ketika ia masih kecil. Ia punya memori soal itu. Membekas di ingatannya dan mengejawantah menjadi rasa marah. Ya, amarah! Amarah yang selalu menghantui hidupnya.

Lalu, kebetulan ada waria. Kebetulan ada syariah Islam. Ia punya justifikasi untuk melepas amarahnya.

Dan kita, kita yang tak pernah tinggal di Aceh. Kita yang mengharu-biru dengan "kemajuan" Indonesia, tak sanggup menerima realita  bahwa kekerasan masih saja terjadi di bumi Indonesia. Kita diam saja. Pura-pura segala sesuatunya baik-baik saja meski pemberlakuan syariah Islam telah melukai banyak jiwa.

Dan kita, kita yang Muslim tak sanggup menerima realita bahwa pemberlakuan syariah Islam itu menyakiti. Mencambuk orang di depan umum karena ketahuan berkhalawat itu menyakitkan, tapi kita diam saja karena kita menganggap itu adalah tindakan yang pantas meski hati kita tersakiti. Pura-pura menerima kebenarannya meski diam-diam kita sedih. Tapi, kita harus berpura-pura tegar. Berpura-pura pemberlakuan syariah Islam itu baik meski kita tahu koruptor tak pernah dihukum cambuk. Hukum cambuk hanya untuk rakyat biasa. Anak perempuan yang orang tuanya bukan siapa-siapa. Dan, banci-banci tentu saja.

Mereka bukan siapa-siapa. Mereka tidak dihitung dalam statistik. Mereka sampah. Menyimpang.

Namun diam-diam, mereka lah yang menafkahi keluarga. Merawat ibunya yang renta. Membiayai sekolah saudara-saudaranya. Membiayai pacarnya yang turut serta dalam kelompok orang-orang yang menindas mereka.

Begitulah banci.

Mereka rela berkorban meski terus disakiti. Demi sebuah keter-terimaan (acceptance).