Terlalu mudah berkata dan menemukan pernyataan: 'bila dalam hubungan saya mengalami kekerasan, saya akan meninggalkan relasi itu'. Faktanya tidak pernah sesederhana itu. Statistik menunjukan bagaimana tinggi angka kekerasan dalam relasi. Bahkan di Indonesia, bisa digeneralisir bahwa hampir semua orang mengalami kekerasan dalam relasi. Kenyataan yang hadir adalah: Pelaku relasi bertahan di tengah kekerasan. Kekerasan hanya terus berulang. Apapun bentuknya, frekuensinya, maupun alasannya.
I couldn't treat this, like any usual forum. Speaking about shifting intimacies intertwined with schizophrenic society were things I could once only dream about. Over a decade of trying to understand love and intimacy, I felt like it was put to the test. To add to that, this was still an ongoing research - abundance of results of which coined more questions than answers. Honestly have shred me weary, to the point where I question why and what this journey is about.
I was insanely nervous; I don't know wether it was because I had to present it in English or wether I had to speak about something I had been so passionate about, or maybe a mixture of both. I was concerned that I wouldn't be able to transfer my understanding on schizophrenic society; how to give out deleuze without being deleuzian, without using terms like body without organs as his main foundation of reality, or terms such as lines of flight, delirium, and molar-unmolecular dynamics in society. Concerned about our sense and tendencies of categorizing and dissecting love to reduction denying the shades of intimacy. Afraid I wasn't able to give voice to the voiceless (no matter how the paradox it may be, still remembering spivak) to those who had shared their love journeys and lives with me.
To my surprise the room was filled, and each person at some point took words out of me. And to my surprise the topics I was anxious about were not the ones I should be worried about. Discussions have triggered new areas in advancing this research, critics and questions enlighten me to what I should be working on. And most of all.. I was overwhelmed to so many opportunities, forums, people, and individuals who constantly thrust this study and letting me learn even more and more. And today, my heart was overflowing with gratitude for those who willingly came and immersed to what I passionately study, *your presence meant the world for me* and even more had made me fall in love with love once again, blessed by this doctoral journey, a journey that felt like a dread for quiet sometime, just halted to see rainbows and flowers on a green field.
#overwhelmed #thankyou #thankyou4yoursupport#thankyou4coming #thankyou4teachingme#skizofrenicsociety #schizosubjects #multiplerealities #doctoral #doctoraljourney
Refleksi : ‘Cinta yang menawarkan mimpi, kehidupan dan masa depan, lalu mundur tanpa Kata’. [apa Masalahnya?]
Sudah ke empat kalinya semesta membawa langkah kakiku menuju Sukamara. Tiap kali, senantiasa ada catatan yg tertulis, namun... entah kenapa tidak pernah tuntas dan siap unggah.
Namun disinilah signifikansi makna mengada dg sendirinya. Yg kehilangan kata selalu mengandung rasa yg lebih dalam. Tanpa sengaja, mengada. Sebagaimana kebiasaan menyingkat sebutan Sukamara dg Sukma dalam percakapan tanpa diniatkan.
Mungkin begitulah dia. Entah di titik mana, ada sukma yg menyisip di lipatan peristiwa. Bagiku, perkenalan dengan Sukamara membawaku kembali ke masa kecil. Masa di umur itu, yg tentu berisi penuh dg kenangan indah, permainan, dan kegembiraan.
Pagi itu rasanya akan segera meledak: Apa hubungannya antara sendiri dengan ban mobil yang sedang ia perbaiki? Rumus fisika apa yang menghubungkan antara beban pengendara tunggal dengan kerusakan ban? Apa montir ini sudah gila?. Apa sudah ada label ‘janda dan orang tua tunggal’ tertulis di jidatku?. Rasanya ingin kulipat-lipat orang itu, kupotong-pontong, kucincang habis, kubakar, kuseduh dalam kopi panas yang telah kuidamkan sejak jam empat pagi hari ini, kuteguk, kumuntahkan dalam kloset wc dan kuguyur!
t was a sunny afternoon when a small wooden stool was left on my porch. No note. None needed. The same stool we saw as we strolled for coffee last evening. The exact one with all its rough scratches. The one that I adored, and firmly responded by the owner ‘not for sale’, no matter how relentless I induced.
It was a February. It’s now February.
on this blog
Just ordinary day to day notes.. But as we know.. there is nothing normal in this world.