The Art of Obliviating

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Dear whoever made this illustration,

I have this sudden urge to hug you now. Like, hug and cry frantically. We must’ve been originated from the same planet and somehow we’re dropped here on earth.

I want to end blogging here for tonight and sleep early like any other responsible adult, but I know a proper blog will need at least a few paragraphs more.

Here I am, Sunday night 10.56 pm, listening to Scott Bradlee’s Postmodern Jukebox albums alone in my empty apartment. Without my housemates here, I feel definitely lack of self-consciousness to make loud noises and stay up late in the living room.

Please believe me when I said I tried to do my thesis correction works.

Dr. D isn’t happy with me using Cool Biz campaign as “The Japanese Guideline”, so I looked up that Japanese Standards for thermal comfort & IAQ thing, even reading the love letter between ASHRAE and SHASE on 2013. With no luck on finding the treasures, I moved on to the Griffiths’ constant problem. Even after reading Rijal sensei’s and Sabri’s papers, I feel unsure how to justify my own analysis..

..are you sure you want to read on my rambling on thesis?

Honestly, how can I work properly when today is such a magical day?

I woke up to a call from ambu, cheerful as if nothing happened on our last call. Well, I guess nothing happened, except for screaming competition.. But I hadn’t even gather my scattered souls in the  morning, let alone desires to fight.

I’m not complaining for the temporary truce, but I don’t like to be treated as if everything’s fine. Well, I’m FINE. Frustrated, Insecure, Neurotic, Emotional. I can’t help feeling like being dismissed because my problems are such uncomfortable nuisance, so let’s just forget it.. Guess what? I don’t want to. There’s something unresolved here and I won’t stop until I can claim my rights.

Some of my closest friends seemed surprised with my resolution to fight for this specific guy I refer as my significant other since almost a year ago. Apparently they expected the end of the story when I told them my parents don’t like him.

To tell the truth, it surprised me that they’re surprised about it.

I wonder if all this time they see me as a girl who gives up easily.. or maybe just a goody good obedient girl.

If I can describe one thing about myself, I’m a perspective kind of girl. It fascinates me how the same thing could have different meaning and seen differently by people. When I write fiction, I like to play with point-of-view. In real life, I guess it made me more self conscious than normal, since I do care about how other people perceive myself. Maybe I don’t care care, just awfully aware.

So how can I keep my sanity all this time? I’ve been obliviating myself. I’m not a witch but I can do that to myself at least.. It’s like a bad habit I’m addicted to.

People say, Forgive and Forget. Forgiving people is not always easy.. so maybe sometimes I reversed it: Forget and Forgive. Maybe it’s not the right thing, since you have to be fully aware to forgive someone. Forget and Forgive, sounds like you’re drunk first before you pretend to forgive whoever it is.

 I can’t do this forever.

This is my own life and all I ask is to be allowed to make my own decision. I wish you can wake up from any weird dream you’ve been drowning in. See that I’m really a human being, not some kind of property to be sold to the highest bidder.

You could have just propped me up on the table like a mannequin
Or a cardboard stand-up and paint me
Any face that you wanted me to be seen

—–You don’t know me by Ben Folds & Regina Spektor

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