weirdestpine

[weirdestpine]

Oh Allah, please give me the courage to stand up for myself when no one else will.

Please soften my heart and made me capable of keeping it clean and content.

Please open my eyes to see my own mistakes then learn from it.

Please give me the bravery to let go, to forgive, and to let myself free.

Aamiin.

[weirdestpine]

We don't control our destiny, no, we never do.

It’s good for me. It’s good for them. It’s always good for every single one of us.

We work on something, we pray for that to happen, then accept whatever the result is as it is. Know that Allah has truly determined the best for everyone. So whatever happens, happens. Nothing to be sad about. We don't blame fate for things that don't go our way, do we? It never asks what we want it to be, anyway, and it doesn’t need to.

We move on to other matters, for the past has passed.

Life doesn't end with changing our plans, failing our choices, not achieving our desires, no, it does not. It only ends with our souls being taken away, though it was more like the beginning of everything. As long as we still haven't breathed our last, we can still change some plans. We can fail more choices.

And perhaps we can achieve further goals.

[weirdestpine]

Di antara kebaikan Tuhan padamu, saat kamu dijauhkannya dari hal-hal yang tidak layak untukmu. Maka apa yang tidak kamu dapatkan bukan berarti kamu sengsara, dan apa yang kamu dapatkan belum tentu baik untukmu, sebab bisa jadi ia datang sebagai ujian.

Sikapi saja bahwa ketetapan Allah itu selalu baik, kadang ia datang sebagai hadiah maka selayaknya kamu bersyukur, dan kadang pula ia singgah sebagai ujian maka seharusnya kamu bisa sadar dan lulus darinya.

Selamat menenangkan diri atas apa yang hilang dan apa yang datang.

@jndmmsyhd

[weirdestpine]

to write a birthday reflection like this 🥹🥹🥹🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻 happiest birthday kak izzi!

27

Twenty-six was something borrowed.

She went by in a flash, yet she was also in slow motion. It didn’t feel like she was mine, as much as she was, and although everything about it was indeed mine, in a lot of ways it also wasn’t. 26 was her own analogy with her own language, who kept correcting—iterating—herself vigorously, so she wouldn’t be recorded entirely as a flaw, a bug, a glitch, or a hideous mess. 

Just recently I saw this Instagram Reel of a potter smashing and breaking her flawed products to turn them back into clay and recycle them into new pieces. While I do not dare to say that 26—I—was a flawed product myself, 26 was the year when a lot of things got really, really messy. 

A couple of (messy) examples: First of all, I thought I could write. Four semesters, ten unfinished drafts, maybe thirty-thousand words later, I realized writing is about both starting and finishing and all this time I’ve been only floating in the middle. Second, I thought I was smart and brave, especially being one of the few international ESL students, and also one of the only two Indonesians in the program, until I started taking classes with students who have spoken—and written—English their whole lives, who bring novel manuscripts and 30-page brilliant short stories to workshops, some of which have already been published here there everywhere, who win competitions and receive fellowships, who have taught in at least three different continents, who by default I deemed superior. With that, Smart and Brave silently exited the room. Dumb and Scared took their place instead. Lastly, I thought I knew what I wanted, had life half-figured and sort of planned out. Turns out I have only been half-living this whole time, with absolutely no idea what I’m doing and where I’m going, and meeting different people with different backgrounds and their different languages with their different, super supreme YouTube-podcast-book-meme references and their elaborate, sorted-out 10-year life plans, Notion-powered, Forbes30Under30-driven; made me grimace at my own life (obviously unsorted, unNotioned, unForbes), made me unwant what I had and want some things even harder. My dreams shape-shift. Some self-destruct, some become even more stubborn and pronounced. Either way, it ended up being too much. Too loud and too lonely. I ended up becoming one of those clay pots the potter smashed in her video. I broke. Too many times, at that.

-

Amidst all that fire in the house, as I am heavily self-trained to always find light in the darkness no matter how irrelevant and cringe such light can be, at 2:00 am as I cried myself to sleep I thought, what better place to be broken than New York, right? Wrong. Well at least I am in New York, right? Right, but also wrong. Despite only living here for two years-ish, I felt New York was too grand a stage for broken things. For battles I was bound to lose. For wars I wasn't prepared for. It’s too grand a stage for adult growing pains, which are basically aches everywhere in our body due to intense adulting activities (mostly the mental ones), where joy is something we pay in installments, yet horror and sadness are practically freebies. The real secret in @secretnyc Instagram page isn’t in what they tell us (10 tHiNGs yOu DoN’T wAnNa MiSs tHiS wEeKeNd), it’s in what they don’t: People bend in this city, but most of the times they break too. 

That being said, for the past seven, eight months, it has really taken a village for a day to start and to not suck, for the hours to go by without too much crying in between. In the first few months there wasn’t even a “village” to begin with, for I was alone, lonely, busy succumbing. My world was shaken up and for a lot of different reasons. New York, once a jewelry box, became a death trap. I was floating but more like a sad balloon—airless and crinkled, certainly not the majestic, colorful, and dreamy-looking hot-air kind—sadly sticking to her day-to-day routine: write in the mornings, class til noon, study until dinner, naps in between. 

But as much as I tried, my normal routine alone didn’t even cut it—it felt unsafe and temporary. Some days I was lucky to make it to places, some others I would be walking out of my apartment just to straight up u-turn and run back home. My naps became longer (when my normal ones already last for two hours, minimum) and turned to something I dreaded, but at the same time everything else was a lot worse. Whatever good, normal day I pulled a muscle to have, it wore off as soon as I showered and crawled back to bed. At nights, rest was impossible, but when I finally did fall asleep, I slept with a large hole in my chest, which became a perfect site for a festival of bad dreams. 

-

So I resorted to sticking my routine to other people’s. That is how my life became something desperately borrowed: the long library hours, the brisk walks to the boba place, study sessions, the Friday getaways to Yale, last minute lunch and dinner dates, weekend hangouts, half-priced ballet and Broadway shows, ice skating. Surprise pastries that saved my lifeless, bedridden, five-kg-less ass because I couldn’t, wouldn’t, stomach anything else; shoulders on which I helplessly smeared snot all over; ears worn off from having to hear me scream and cry during phone calls or during long conversations over my dining table; iftars and suhoors turned into sleepovers. I borrowed distractions from these people, who willingly shared pieces of their lives with me, which I used to fill the large hole in my chest, hoping they could help rid it of the nightmares, however momentary. I owe so much to so many. 

And what did this tiny, little piece of self do? Other than succumbing? Skipping classes, missing her meals? Seeing the days go by from her bedroom window? Hating people on Instagram who seemed contained and composed, happy and unbothered? And back to hating herself even more? Well, it woke up, and at some point, it got up from bed. Two times, it showed up to her pilates sessions. It also sought therapy. If anything, it lived and held me. And it wrote to you, eventually.

And so, writing this, putting it here, containing this internal fiasco in a language and a shape is my attempt at making a peace offering to all sorts of life’s shenanigans that I have yet to face—an effort to upcycle life just like she does, Lady Pottery. That’s 26 to me. Still a quarter life crisis, just a remix. I remember the times where I prayed so hard—Ramadan 2019, for example, which perhaps was my peak shalihah moment, excuse this shameless self-claim, because I wanted grad school so bad—for the things I do have now. These days I’d call Ibu and we’d both cry on the phone (unsure who’s soothing who?), “Bapak and I prayed for all these things for you—your scholarship and your school—and these granted prayers come with tests for our patience and perseverance…” So there you go.

I once asked my older sister how many more times she cried like a monster after 26, because I was exhausted. She said only a couple more times, because afterwards, the cry is silent. I guess if I asked Lady Pottery how many more times she still has to do recycling, the smashing and the breaking, the answer would be about the same. 

So. Twenty-seven. Let’s go for a spin.

[weirdestpine]

Sembuh itu ada harganya, karena siapa yang mau menjahit lukanya, maka ia harus menanggung sakit dari tusukan jarumnya.

Memaafkan pun juga sama, ia harus mengikhlaskan dan membiasakan luka masa lalu. Ketenangan itu ada harga, jika mau silahkan beli, jika tidak maka bertahanlah.

Tidak semuanya di dunia ini gratis, terkadang kamu harus membayar lebih untuk sesuatu yang baik dalam hidup. Bahkan bisa jadi kamu harus membayar bukan hanya dengan uang, tapi juga dengan rasa.

Memaafkan.

@jndmmsyhd

[weirdestpine]

Everyday I am thankful for my family; for accepting my most inconvenient self.

Without them now existing right beside me, I might be the loneliest I've ever been.

And thanks to adulting, life still goes on and there are still plenty of shits to be done no matter how we try to hold on to when it feels a little better.

Got no tips, but here's a little pat on the back:

Embrace your emotion then let go.

Cry your lungs out, laugh 'til your stomach aches, scream it out loud. Go down longer in your prayers and let it all out.

Let it go.

[weirdestpine]

Sambil ngantuk-ngantuk, ada murrotal surat dhuha lewat di Youtube. Tiba-tiba kepikiran sesuatu tapi ndak sempet ngetik panjang. Tapi kalau dirangkum tuh kurang lebih begini:

Allah sudah menjamin kehidupan setiap makhluk-Nya. Hal yang tersulit bagi kita justeru menjaga akal kita agar tetap menghadap kepada Allah saat kita dikaruniai kebahagiaan ataupun diuji dengan kesedihan.

Hal yang perlu kita syukuri adalah....

Permintaan Allah kepada hamba-Nya tidak muluk-muluk. Dia menyediakan ladang amal di setiap kondisi. Dalam kelapangan ataupun kesempitan. Di waktu dhuha ataupun di waktu malam.

Melihat bagian akhir di surat dhuha yang mengajarkan kita untuk berbuat baik kepada dhuafa semacam memberi insight bahwa atas segala hal yang telah lama kita khawatirkan, biarlah semua dalam genggaman Allah. Kita percayakan kepada-Nya.

Selebihnya, seperti firman Allah dalam surat dhuha, kita jalankan peran sebagai manusia untuk berbuat baik kepada sesama dan melindungi yang lebih lemah.

Apa yang ada di bumi itu amanah kita bersama. Kita tidak perlu menjadi orang dengan kemampuan super dan karya monumental. Cukuplah menjadi manusia yang selalu berusaha sadar atas kewajibannya baik di waktu lapang ataupun sempit.

...

Kalau surat Al Fatihah dianggap intisari isi Al Qur'an, mungkin surat dhuha memperjelas Iyyaaka na'budu, wa iyyaka nasta'in. Hanya kepada Allah kita meminta pertolongan. Bahkan untuk menjalankan peran sebagai manusia yang sederhanapun, kita tetap butuh pertolongan dari Allah....

...

Fa amma bini'mati robbika fahaddist. Semoga kita bisa menjadi manusia yang selalu bersyukur dan menampakkan rasa syukur atas nikmat Allah melalui perbuatan baik kepada sesama. Sehingga orang di sekitar kita juga bersyukur atas kehadiran kita. Kemudian rasa syukur mereka juga membuat mereka istiqomah berbuat baik.

...

What a random ~XD

[weirdestpine]

2021 was harsh. A little too much of bathroom cries, constantly feeling like a desperate weakling, apparently lost my whole self pretty bad.

2022 be a little nicer, will you?

[weirdestpine]

“you’ve relied on time to heal your wounds, but time alone isn’t enough. i hope you learn to hold yourself accountable by practicing what is right for you even if it feels uncomfortable or unfamiliar. i hope you adopt a habit of consistency when it comes to how you treat yourself.”

— iambrillyant

[weirdestpine]

Abis denger bahasan tentang qada & qadr huhu masyaAllah :")

Hidup memang terdiri dari pilihan2 (free-will), tapi ketahuilah setiap pilihan2 itu akan dihisab, maka pilihlah jalan yang kamu betul2 pahami segala konsekuensinya. Takdir yang tercatat di lauhul mahfuz itu Ilmu Allah, nggak ada yang paling tau kecuali Allah. Maka lewat pilihan2 dalam hidup itulah kita mengupayakan sebaik mungkin akhir yang seperti apakah yang kita inginkan?

Menjadi muslim itu lekat dengan perjuangan.

Choose your fight and aim for Jannah.

[weirdestpine]

Most of the time I would catch myself thinking that I'm too sad, dry, and pesimistic for people to enjoy being around me. But hey, what about the people who stayed and listened? They are the ones I sometimes forget to be grateful for. To my dear family, friends and closest ones, thank you for simply existing.

[weirdestpine]

Maybe one day…

My Books - https://debbietung.com/books

[weirdestpine]

It's been a loooong and tough week.

Kerja 7 hari nonstop, weekend ngga berasa tiba-tiba udah senin lagi... jam tidur mulai berantakan lagi, revenge bedtime procrastination lagi~ jerawatan lagi~ misah-misuh tiap ngaca lagi~

Do'anya cuma satu, semoga apapun yang sudah kita perjuangkan dinilai kebaikan, ya.

Hang in there pals, nanti juga sabtu lagi.

[weirdestpine]

Way to Go to Let It Go

Kadang masih suka kepikiran kenapa ya hari ini, hari itu, rasanya berat banget.

Benar-benar berat. Gelisah, kepikiran sama hal-hal yang sangat distraktif hingga mengganggu rutinitas.

Awalnya saya pikir akar masalahnya sudah end-game, nggak perlu dibawa-bawa lagi. Tapi kok masih ada yang mengganjal ya?

Sampai beberapa hari lalu saya kesampaian baca buku cerita anak-anak karya Na'ima Robert & Mufti Menk, judulnya Let It Go.

Buku anak-anak sederhana tentang bocah laki-laki yang merasa harinya dipenuhi kejadian yang membuat ia kesal, marah, dan sedih.

Ada kalimat yang ditulis berulang-ulang setiap si bocah mengalami kejadian tak mengenakkan;

But I don't want to let go,

I want to hold on.

My heart feels heavy

As the day goes on.

Berulang kali ia dibuat kesal, marah, dan sedih, bertumpuk-tumpuk emosi si bocah hingga ia merasa hatinya semakin berat, berat untuk melepaskan dan menerima.

Sampai pada akhirnya si bocah tersadar bahwa manusia tempatnya khilaf dan salah, karena ia pun kerap kali membuat adiknya kesal dan sedih.

Satu hal penting yang ia akhirnya sadari adalah ajaibnya maaf dan memaafkan. Semua orang pernah berbuat khilaf, beberapa mengakui dan meminta maaf, lalu sisanya adalah tugas kita untuk memaafkan.

Maka mengapa hati ini terasa begitu berat? Bisa jadi karena ternyata kita belum sepenuh hati memaafkan dan menerima hal-hal di masa lampau.

Sekedar ucapan maaf dan memaafkan tentu terasa ringan di mulut, tapi apakah hati kita sudah benar-benar memaafkan? Apa hati sudah sepenuhnya ikhlas untuk melepaskan?

Jika beban di hati itu masih ada, ada baiknya kita merenungi kembali, menata hati dan mawas diri, sudahkah maaf itu terpatri sedalam-dalamnya di hati?

Perkara maaf bukanlah pekerjaan yang instan, memang tidak semudah yang dinarasikan, tapi percayalah bahwa jalan menujunya adalah sebuah keberanian.

[weirdestpine]

You won't understand how unlovable you've made me feel.

[weirdestpine]

La La Land (2016)

Beautiful movie.

Yet still can't get over them didn't end up together, hits right in the wound....

[weirdestpine]

Sometimes we only need to start counting on unnoticable blessings; the air we breath, the little steps we take, pretty morning sunrays peeking through the windows, the shades of blue painted both to the mighty sky and the deep ocean, cats, the nice cheap food by the neighborhood...

Life is mainly a compilation of the littlest thing, you might miss and lose at some points, yet the sun still greets you, the cat is still meowing, the sky is still through and the rain's still pouring.

Find your littlest thing that keep you going.