perkaraperkara

hurrah heute it is meine geburtstag again.

it is time to return to the roots, after a period of restlessness stimulation and the constant motions of satisfying people and events and obligations and wishes, things are finally coming round to a slow-running pause. perhaps the planets are in motion, or summer draws to a close, or every corner in the house feels put together.

perhaps a recap might be due, but this is slightly more difficult with impressions having forgotten. so, was kann man machen? //

i return now to this two days later, having spent the day of the third waking up slowly somber-happy to the sun, having ten hours before twenty people thereabouts singing underneath the blue light seconds past midnight happy birthday to your self (somehow writing ‘me’ feels.. off). we blow the candles out, i stare into the crowd – it is terrifying to be celebrated. like Ginsberg, i try to celebrate myself instead but to be subjected to attention – it is something to get over with.

(which is another subject of conversation between me and Andrea, as part of our purported plan to try out this ‘schema-therapie’. i let her do her thing, but as i said to Jonas, i cannot let her be my only creative outlet in life).

the night of the third after a short barbeque session among what i would call the african diaspora lads talking of elections, voodoo, diamonds and feminism – i return home aiming to write, first to reply whatever thank yous and obligations and then this – but ended up digging out Rilke’s book of poems in order to find a phrase to sum up this strange feeling i have been having all of august. perhaps it was the weather getting better or the new espresso machine or having to do away from family and friends visiting and then ending the month with possibly the most chill and calmest trip hiking in the mountains of slovenia.

in any case, i am learning to see. (thank you malte?)

lagu tema: Edwin Rosen / Dian Mayasari‘s Tiada Abadi

minggu pertama tahun baru kali kelihatannya agak lesu, dengan percubaan menghilangkan perasaan – perasaan yang lalu. beberapa minit setelah berlalunya jam dua belas, saya dan A melihat sama sendiri dan semacam kagum dengan berlalunya sebuah tahun (ianya hanya sebuah perasaan akhirnya) – yang bagi saya, penuh acara ragam dan orang, sekurang-kurangnya? serta kematian dan sakit, tentunya – yang kadang-kadang boleh membuatkan saya berhenti berhuha sebentar dan menatap (meratap?) keabadian yang boleh datang bila-bila sahaja.

lalu, apa bentuk harapan kita tahun ini? apabila sudah tua-tua sebegini, waktu itu tentunya berlalu dengan terlalu pantas, dan waktu yang akan datang juga sudah mula dipenuhi dengan permintaan akal masa dan tubuh badan. apabila malam-malam sendu begini, saya akan teringat cerpen-cerpen danarto, terutamanya Mereka toh Tidak Mungkin Menjaring Malaikat – mungkin adalah antara cerpen paling gembira yang pernah ditulis. pinta saya cuma satu sebenarnya, menjadi seperti angin.

tetapi kita tetap harus bersemuka dunia akhirnya – saya yang harus ikut serta bersama orang-orang berkepentingan berte dalam sebuah hotel lima bintang di padang pasir berbincang, atau mungkin sekadar berucap tentang hal-hal sekarang dan yang akan datang – yang bagi saya cuma sesuatu yang abstrak – adalah amat bosan untuk menuju kearah sesuatu matlamat dengan ukuran dan kira-kira para ahli statistik yang duduk di sebalik komputer – lalu untuk apa? tapi kita layan aje, yang penting ada cuaca panas dan sauna?

kemudian, antara yang lain tahun ini – singapura (mungkin), pulang, lithuania, ferropolis (?), amsterdam, budapest, zurich, brunei, in no particular order. saya penat dengan peredaran matahari, izinkan saya bermandikan cahaya bulan sahaja, boleh? doktor kinderwunsch saya menasihati untuk tidak terlalu derak mano mano, tapi apo dayo, apo nok dikato? prosesnya tetap harus dimulakan, kan?

and then drank chai and zimtschneke at the mosque.

every time the urge to write occurs, the time does not permit, the space and time and the people that surround you dulls all the noise. i have been overstimulated, this has been a fun christmas ny break, but all one day.

there is a new presence in the city, and i find the occasional conversations that emerge from K and I in very similar veins of thought. the all or nothing attitude, the disgruntled look and aloofness of the whole world, perhaps there is both innocence and brilliance in this person. i shall not be bored in the next two years at the very least.

parti sahne – S’s birthday in the form of disjointed joints of thought followed by a house / techno concert. two brudis arguing for your presence, but i let the men fight on my behalf. it pays to be smol? with ecstasy, everything will sound great but for the thousands of menschen looking for meaning in a beat drop, will truth be found there alas? i linger in the background or hover above the smoke lighting nervous cigarettes – one muss learn how to calm down.

afterwards – watching love bloom in the air between two friends, the hesitation-shyness-wonder-dance-play of what cannot yet be spoken of, i am amused.

work politics can boring, but colleagues and their fear, hopes, dreams and that quasi-guilt-responsibility towards the homeland can be certainly interesting.

christmas – old and new friends, hopes for the future while seeing what has passed by, hurt feelings trying to mend themselves, and the impulsive need to clean a friend’s house.

and finally, what i am really here for today

how to identify a narcissistic blameless turd

if it took several people years to disown a person, i had the luxury and fortune to know, recognize and discard a person entirely in three days. one must not fall for enlightening conversations, which might seem to look educated at first, but there is a tendency to overexplain (mansplain?) things in every setting as if to demonstrate his genius and troubled personality or faults of society. admitting to being an incel without joking or not. thinks (read: condemning) reading a book on alchemy and mysticism is some sort of dabbling into chrystals and magick without even knowing tradition or history (bro, have you even read Schuon/Guenon?). feels oneself blameless in every occasion, yet will accuse another person as irrationally mad, but will also paint every one as a perpetrator, while using passive words “X did this [insert verb] this to me”, as if he himself has had no agency or will in anything happening in his life, ever. is stupid but will not admit a lack of knowledge. think i am fooled by a british accent, f that. is averse to any criticism, but is very salty about it that a grudge will be felt 50 years on, then haunts you about it every 5 minutes. speaks mental health of a person is a spooky way as if its a bad thing but will not admit he is absolutely royally deranged. is unable to laugh. exhausting.

semacam fomo tak dapat pergi tengok erk dan lain-lain, tapi macamlah saya rajin pergi gig sewaktu di jakarta. lalu, pilihan minggu ini: sampa the great.

terlalu banyak yang berlaku dalam tempoh sebulan yang lalu, sehinggakan saya tidak menemukan ruang (ketiganya masa keinginan dan tempat) untuk duduk. penjelasan yang pendek – seluruh jiwa ini telah dicucuh dengan adrenalin yang entah datang dari mana – tapi tepatnya adalah (kombinasi) kerja yang tak habis-habis, semangat nasionalisme (yang sementara), amarah kepada orang-orang bodoh (tapi dimaafkan), sedos kegilaan di suatu petang melihat matahari terbenam yang jauh lagi real daripada apa yang Van Gogh boleh gambarkan, Max Ernst dan warna-warnanya, Christmas Markets, generasi orang-orang baru di NRW dan fiil mereka dan well, i am perhaps just exhausted all the time.

jadi tidur dan hujung minggu dalah sesuatu yang selalu dinanti-nantikan, man kann nicht auf allen Hochzeiten tanzen, kata Jonas. lazimnya saya akan benamkan diri dalam tab mandi dikelilingi lilin lilin, airnya diisi separuh dan ditaruh apa-apa bath salt/bombs/oils, dengan rokok di tangan, lalu saya akan membadak sejam dua dalam kesunyian malam – minah jenining myself.

saya kata pada andrea, fasa ride on shooting star (mania?) ini yang ini bukanlah sesuatu yang stabil – saya pasti akan jatuh dalam masa terdekat – disember akan tiba (dan telah-pun tiba). namun dia cakap – selagi ada sesuatu yang menarik di hujung mata saya, schon gut. ini setelah saya mengkhabarkan segala rencana saya untuk enam bulan seterusnya – seperti semuanya sudah tertulis dan saya hanya akur kepada aturan kehidupan tapi jauh di sudut hati, saya tahu yang bila-bila sahaja – seperti Salinger’s Teddy, atau lebih dekatnya seperti adik saya yang tiba-tiba mendapat TB, atau mendengar khabar seorang ayah kematian bayi kecilnya di kolam renang – hidup ini bila-bila sahaja boleh bertukar aturannya.

zurich was a fun and sterile retreat. seventh year of marriage, it is sweetly painful to discover that memories and desires can still be stirred.

reading: Less is Enough, Pier Vittorio Aureli. an idea for a thesis comes up – to contest the idea of land / private ownership – a sense of temporality of man on earth – perhaps an exploration / ethnographic research from either – the kampung way – as influenced by the east / islam whatever ethos have yous in the region? as in, naik robohnya sesebuah rumah kayu itu, atau mungin tentang acara buka tanah/ kampung lalu setelah tiga empat generasi ditelan hutan semula – sebuah ethos tentang alam yang tidak cocok dengan konsep pembangunan moden (dengan simen, pemilikan and that). anda rasa bagaimana?

phoenix just released their album alpha zulu, and now i descend into winter solstice on repeat.

on halloweeen; i no longer remember, nor still know the difference between techno and house.

on musuemsnacht koln; a merry occassion organized by yours truly, gathering the arab diaspora group with musuem-people togethers and hellos at the ludwig musuem. over four floors of abstract art, sketches of plants, political-art tv booths, and confusing hallways, clearly the surrealism section tops the rest. behind a single dali’s painting, which i care not too much for, was the original idea of tagging your friends ala max ernst – A Friends’ Reunion. amusing to see dostoevsky and breton up there.

afterwards, a rare access to the top of the cranes overlooking the dom and the rhine. where all stood huddled in their little groups chattering silently over the *actual* coming of winter, an end to the year, a new beginning of sorts for some. 15 minutes of cycling later, we enter a building of artists’ studios sprawled across four floors – each an exhibit of the artist’s room, the artist, and their work. at the end of the corridor, beyond the black curtain, a performance art of the female body, again, with an oriental tinge. the other continues to be seen as the other – shall i gaze into your belly dancing and see a true liberated self emerging out of it? i shall not try to understand.

so it seems that this umrah trip of ours is not going to happen after all. while i am not so sad, thinking that perhaps after all redemption (or perhaps i associate facing the Kaaba means the surrender of all ego, and deep seriousness/attitude towards religion amal-wise), perhaps this should not happen so soon. ich bin nicht bereits. so it seems that new years / christmas season will be a quiet affair here.

a visit to the kinderwunschzentrum. an application pending to perhaps continue studying in berlin. perhaps i am too bitter about the dutch to study netherlands, maybe the (slighter) east is more understanding.

new affairs to consider or dabble into, then?

it is french season this month – still haven’t read any book of Houellebecq, but somehow suddenly remembered this essay. next ; remi brague, if i manage to find his book.

it says something when the only time i am able to read anything good this year – that is 2 separate books is a 3 hour return flight from istanbul to cologne.

strange it is to see your sister and her husband there in the flesh, as you were five years ago in the same regular spots. ah the romance of east and west, clash of civilisations, the romanticism of a bygone era, ataturk flags floating in the background, rotting hammams in the back alleys ran by a two-woman operation scrubbing all the dirt away from the entirety of your body, mind, soul and all the ghosts memories hopes and dreams as one stares into stained-glass dotted windows in the ceiling.

i should say that these every two weeks LSD tripping is stripping me all sense of sleep. what does one give in exchange of a few morsels of happiness, of searching a sense of something something. it is very difficult to even write without jumping into another strand of thought. it is even more difficult to maintain a sense of order while the world surrounding you spirals into a merging landscape of thoughts fears and longings.

at two am call to kampung panglima bayu, just in time to talk your grandmother via video call. only to talk about your half-deaf niece and his ears. ah, the weight/sweetness of hearing for the first time. imagine.

a land to be bought, in dabb.

an invitation to zurich, pending. end of november then, J?

the libertines, tomorrow, 20th anniversary. pete doherty, a poet, still? how does one reconcile with old age, age gracefully, while the rest of the world – mainly you as a mere teenager grow up and become so old – moves?

nazir and alia, bag-trippin across the ottoman empire (?), and an introduction into contemporary Johor Bharu rapping scene 420ing their way sampai fly. i wonder i

why does one travel far and wide in order to witness something? do we not wish to marvel at the creativity of others (and by extension, of god)?

ghassan kanafani – underrated writer. died too soon. susan sontag – why are we graced with only one decent female writer every fifty years? (suggestions are welcomed?)

seventh year of marriage – we become each other’s memes.

adalah amat sukar untuk menulis kembali, tetapi bak kata Jonas, haruslah diteruskan walau di mana pun anda berada.

pertamanya, tentang perasaan-perasaan yang timbul di permukaan apabila segala urusan, perlakuan yang deras-deras telah berlalu, makanan dan minuman sudah dihadam dan di antara perjumpaan dan perpisahan ada sebuah waktu yang kita sukar gambarkan yang boleh dikatakan sebagai sebuah kesepian yang senggang. masa bagaikan terhenti atau mungkin ditarik seminit dua lebih panjang. butiran kata-kata menjadi tidak jelas dan lataran mata meluas terbuka menghamparkan keadaan sesebenarnya dan anda bagaikan tidak berpijak di ruang nyata. dan setiap titik waktu yang cuba ditemukan itu, seberapa banyak perasaan dan hati yang boleh ditaruh kedalamnya sehingga anda sedar, mungkin ini juga akan berlalu dan kemungkinan-kemungkinan lain juga akan datang dan pergi mencarik setiap sisi diri anda sehingga habis.

sebab itu, saya katakan pada A, setelah tidak bertemunya sejak 2018 di Jakarta, saya bukan seseorang yang boleh melihat kembali ke masa lalu. ya, tapi kadang-kadang, ia muncul juga dan tak boleh dielak. dari segi foto, rakan-rakan lama, buku. Bapanya telah mati dahulu, dan tahun lalu ibunya pula, lalu dia pun membawa diri jauh ke Bali. So how’s life at fourty, saya tanya.

you’re too young to be thinking about that.

it has been a month, yet i feel the same as before.

trying to remember barcelona is like a dream, a long dreamscape of light, shadow, music, colours, people, the sun the beach the long crawl back to the bed, jews dancing in the dark and in k-holes, people dazed and confused drugged or not drugged or probably just euphoric. we are all rushing towards something – did tyler the creater delivered his last sermon on top of that staged hill? is julian casablancas still feverishly hot? did karen o tamed her voice, (or found beauty) in that mid-point scream/lament? is thom york continually reinventing himself under different names only to discover that it all balls and merges into his own symphony in the end? can i hide in a slowdive song, or can i stay in this purple light while jesus & mary chain sow seeds of joy that could help elevate anything, any mood or feelings that must be felt?

i have discovered, in my longing to speak, there is no one to speak to, no one to express to. i feel as if the landscape needs to shift – to wipe out the ordinary existence of jetzt, but to what?

called Nata yesterday, and at the end of our 40-min once in a year or two call, she says what she misses the most about Flensburg was our afternoon tea sessions. Just sitting and talking while the water boils looking at the gloomy sky (as per today), nothing to worry about except insignificant assignments, lamenting people and life and parts of lemongrass used (the stalk – us for cooking, the leaves – them for tea).

climbed the zugspitze over the weekend. a triumph of the self, ascent and whatnot. while climbing i thought of all the transcendence/immanent theories and wonder if this physical journey is not man trying to prove his bodily worth over the natural realm. one might as well slip and die rolling into the gorge, but the desire to be dramatic is not there. finally continued the Long Live the Post Horn! book, whose beginning i read perhaps a year ago. it is meant to be finished, i suppose, reading over the Eibsee with S and T swimming into the pristine blue lake and F really trying to solidify his being in this world. will i one day, travel to the far ends of the earth to listen to postman living his tales of searching to deliver a letter without an address? it reads as if the end of Bell Jar, Plath walking into the light after being called by the doctor, a moment of suspension – will this end on a positive note? a hopeful prayer, will it, please?

when all else fails, you can always turn to the first three albums of the strokes.

perhaps the words to be uttered here, if anyone is willing to listen, is the very act of living is hard.

what began as a gradual okay-ness into monotony was struck, or jolted back into reality or when I am confronted by sudden loss – one is immediately brought back into reality. and it is one that is too hard to bear. funny that the christians also say the same things as the muslims – god does not give more than what you cannot bear. so to bear it i will.

what it feels like is i am carrying a monstrous block of ugliness. that every stare, word, touch is false and that any thought is empty any memory obscured by a non-objective truth, every bit of feeling questioned, any hint of excitement questioned. there is no joy, only pretense.

did london help at all, with all its gloominess, chais and oysters?

i cannot partake.

no songs to accompany this post this time.

1. masih menulis, tetapi belum menemukan waktu yang cocok. tetapi setelah adik saya mengirim skrinshot buku Nyanyian Malam, saya rasa, boleh dah ni dalam masa terdekat ini.
2. emel sudah dikarang, cuma belum punya masa untuk dibetulkan. mungkin saya lebih selesa tenggelam dalam dunia lain, dan masih berat kaki (baca: degil) untuk berdiri di muka pintu orang lain (baca: berguru) ?
3. melawat amsterdam hujung minggu lepas dan bertemu the bookieman. dia mempelawa kami untuk minum teh, tetapi macam biasa, F keberatan. Zhuang Zhu bertukar tangan, dan kami menuju ke sebuah coffeeshop tak jauh dari muzium anne frank, melihat abang-abang berantai emas perak (for real) dan berkacamata gelap dalam rumah, melihat bola. saya santai aje menikmati teh dan muffin. abang-abang lain bergelak ketawa mencari tandas bersandar melepek di kerusi dan meja masing masing.
4. selepas itu, tentunya makan nasi dan cendol dengan penuh selera sekali.
5. saya mengubat rasa (sedih) sebenarnya. tetapi life goes on.
6. baru sahaja memulakan Wael B Hallaq sebenarnya, mulanya dengan Orientalism tapi pakcik ini cakap, baca the other one first. jadi sis cuba. saya fikir, seronok juga bertukar angin membaca tulisan seorang peguam atau subjek undang-undang. a little more strengh, more structure and coherence, solid arguments.
7. setelah bergaduh dengan pemberita / pekerja DW tentang apa yang berlaku, geopolitik dan sebagainya, kepercayaan dan fahaman saya tentang apa yang betul / salah tentang aturan dunia akhirnya bukanlah ataupun harus menjadi pekerjaan saya.
8. sejak minggu lepas, saya menyedari ada sebuah khemah dipasang di tengah-tengah kota. akhirnya saya sedar, setelah melihat sekumpulan wanita dan anak-anak mereka yang menggalas dan menyorong beg yang beratur dan menaiki tren, yang perang ini bukanlah permainan semata-mata.