I submitted my graduation project yesterday. I still can't believe that I have so much free time now. I was so used to sleepless nights or getting worried of not getting good marks. Those worries are behind me now. But, I am starting to feel restless about life beyond studies.
I am not completely clueless about my to do list. I had been studying Japanese, Spanish and Latin before starting my postgraduate studies. The self-studies have been postponed for two years. So continuing to learn those languages is already on my list.
Studying has allowed me to embrace my individuality. To become my own person. Rather than being a machine, one of many, in a corporate world. But, it came with a consequence. I became financially unstable. It is such an irony. The world that I so despised is my financial salvation.
And so... the job hunting begins....
What's Next?
A Concerned Future Graduate
Is getting a higher qualification will secure you a better employment?
It seems like it when I was not pursuing my post graduate degree. I was under qualifications for the jobs I wanted. So I decided to save my salary to pursue Master's Degree in Multimedia Design. During the first week into my first semester, I felt like I could make my dreams come true.
I am in my last semester now about to graduate in six months. My graduation project is about UX design because it's my career aspiration after leaving university. I have little confidence about my qualifications. I think I wasted my money and my parents' savings for an overpriced degree. The learning experience wasn't fantastic. There were a lot of hit and miss during the learning process. During my independent studies, seems like what I am paying to learn at campus can be learned at home.
Forming a friendship at campus is artificial. Everybody is busy with their assignments. We talk with each other, occasionally, if we have group homework. We converse around school topics and our struggle looking for a part-time job. I have become more of a skeptic person than what I used to be. I aim to be a high achiever not because I believe it would help for a better employment but because my family and I have sacrificed a lot financially.
My teachers praised me for being able to think ahead of the other students during my graduation project. It doesn't boost my confidence though. In fact, it makes me more skeptical about my skills. Probably the teachers are suggested to praise any works of the students.
I consulted with them about the scope of my UX design. The teachers said that the outcome of my course is creating a designer not a developer. So I just have to create until prototype stage and a presentation in any format I am familiar with. My project will be considered a finished product if it is clear for a developer to carry out to the next process.
All seems easy and doable. But, I don't think in working environment it would be this easy. I am sure a developer will have some degree of involvement during design process. There are some process in the real world that isn't reflected in the class. I can say this because I had some experience in web design. Even back then, a programmer had some involvement in the design stage. So that the final outcome of the website would have a design aesthetics and functionality.
I am tired of studying. I like being in class and being a student. I like learning new things. What's the point of learning if I can't use my currently acquired qualifications to get a job?
The future is bleak.
Time
Social media is a good way to update myself about the life of my classmates. Some are married with kids, some are just married and expecting while some are still single but having a good job. It is not the achievement or the new chapter in their lives that I am going to comment. It is how fast the time flies.
Once, we were students carrying the course of the future in our hands. Now, we are the generation that will pass the course of the future to the next generation. I felt I always had the time of my life when I was younger. I could delay doing something and do it later, because I knew time could wait for me. Unfortunately, time does not wait for anyone.
Rich or poor, young or old, are given 24 hours a day. Time does not discriminate. If you lose money, you could make it up another time. But, if you lose your time, you waste your life. Our precious possession in life should not be money, luxury cars or homes. But, time itself.
You
My life was just alright before you. Neither bad or good. Just me, myself and I. Staying or leaving is just another option in life, because I have nothing to lose. I only have myself on my mind. "I'm alone and will always be alone," was my consolation mantra.
Now I know you. I have got reason to stay. But, the reason alone isn't enough. There's bigger power outside of my control. I will enjoy the moment while it lasts. If I have to go, I am happy that we met and have you as part of my life.
Thank you...
On Being A Student
My student life is like a party in the beginning. Starting the new passage of life was exhilarating. I said goodbye to my professional life and was anticipating my student life with much excitement. I traded the financial security with a hope that I could travel and explore the new home.
The office was my prison. I was merely a computer operator at work. An extension of the machine. A sentient being to generate money. Being shouted at, being bullied, being pressured were my weekdays routine. I locked myself in my room most weekends to get myself some space to breath. My room was my fortress. My own little bubble where I felt safe and could feel like a free person. Meeting people on some weekend was optional. An option to keep me sane from my self-isolation.
The new room, I'm living now, is my prison. Homeworks are my ball and chain. They follow me whenever I go. The works at the office were my ball and chain, but I left them at work. They didn't follow me or I took them home with me.
In real world, simple task can be challenging because some people play politics on you. In student's life, your challenge is time. The enemy is none other than yourself. Either sink or swim, you only have yourself to blame.
The campus seems the only place I could explore most of the times. Poking around at random suburbs is what I call travel now. Excitement has faded to another routine. Repetition of the same occurrences in different time and place.
I'm living the consequence of my choice. That sucks!
It Smells Like Home
Singapore was hazy in today. I thought the rain in the morning left a thin layer of fog in the sky, but it smelled like smoke when I was out for lunch. I was thinking the cleaners of the office building next door was burning garbage. I joked with my colleague that the smoke was from our office, so that we didn't have to go back to work.
I just knew that there is forest fire in Indonesia when I was back at the office. It happens annually apparently. I've heard that the smoke can reach Singapore and Malaysia, but hadn't experience it personally. Until today.
I think Indonesian workers in Singapore shouldn't feel homesick for the coming few days. The homeland is sending its scent here. The scent of homeland in a foreign soil. Hmmm, nothing is better than that. Nothing SMELLS like home!
Thought About Life (Part 3)
Why do we obsess with life? It's because we only know life. We don't know death.
I fear death.
I loathe death when I think about life. I fear how it would feel when my body decompose and my conscious depart from my body. The happiest soul is the one that is never been born. A non-existence being in the infinite universe.
The birth of a baby should be mourned not celebrated. The earlier one
dies from birth, the better. Because they don't have or have little
conscious about life.
When I think further about death, I think about the moment of me being unborn. I don't remember any event before my birth. That's it! I should think death as the moment that I hadn't been born.
I don't remember or feel any body parts growing from my fecal body when I was being developed in my mother's womb. The earliest memory I have about my childhood, is when my parents
were living at my maternal grandparents' house. It was late evening. I
had digestion problem that night and threw up all of the warm bottled
milk I had drunk earlier.
I feel better now.
From a non-existent being in the infinite world, to an existent being in the finite world, and will go back to a non-existent being in the infinite world.
Thought About Life (Part 2)
The article that I read the day before yesterday makes me think, why we cling to life. Even though, with our limbs cut off.
We are taught to advocate life. Persons with compassionate heart would not assist their suicidal friends in their attempts. We would not advocate euthanasia without a reason. That is, A REASON.
Suicide has been a confrontational matter since the dawn of time. There are many different views on it. Greco Roman philosophers had relaxed attitude towards suicide but they did not approve it unless there was a reason. Abrahamic religions view suicide as an offense towards God and is a sin. It is outlawed in some countries. The word suicide did not occur in English dictionary until 1651, because the act itself was seen as disgusting. They used phrases such as self-killing, self-slaughter or self-murder in place of suicide.
We are obsessed with life. Being immortals is our universal dream. Every culture and religion has the realm of life after death. We created it to avoid the thought of death. It is our utopian dream too. The inventions in technology seem like to prolong our span of lives. Some people convince themselves that they are just sleeping. Even though they know they are dead. Often times, we can see this kind of epitaphs, "Here lies (fill the name), he or she is not dead but SLEEPS."
I would like to have this sentence chiseled in my epitaph when I die.
I am DEAD. Period.
Part 3
Thought About Life (Part 1)
A woman was revived from near death experience. She suffered from flesh eating disease that she contacted when she was on holiday overseas. The doctor had to amputate all of her limbs to save her. She had to be taken care at ICU after the surgery. Her chance of survival was very slim, said the the doctor. Yet, she survived the ordeal.
I put down my newspaper and was wondering why we cling to life. I'd rather be dead than have my arms and legs amputated. My able body is my life. I think we cling to life after we are given life. If we're honest, there's no single soul in this world that voluntarily wants to be born. The starting existence of our lives is predetermined by our biological parents.
I think about life sometimes. I am grateful at one time and ungrateful at other time. Thought about life resurfaced after reading that article. Thought about life in general and my life.
Why are we here? Why were we born? Why do we live? Personally, I am asking myself, do I have to be grateful to be alive? Do I have to live my life for the sake of it? Should I carry on with my life because I am given life? These are some questions that pop up in my head. There is an outburst of emotions when I
think about it. Anger, anxiety, fear, rebellious, sad and nihilistic are some that I
can list down.
I feel like an ingrate now.
Other people probably are on death row by now and wish that they could avoid it. While others are probably struggling with life threatening disease and wish that they could live a little bit longer by having one of the body part cut off.
... And here I am with an able body and a sound mind, philosophizing about life with nihilistic view.
Part 2
On Raising a Child
A human has a limited life span. So ideally we are expected to make good choices to benefit our lives. There's no reset button to undo the choices we have made. Thus, we wish we would've taken that choice. Some people keep going on with their life and live with the
consequences, but some people express their unfilled dreams and wishes through their children. As if these kids are the younger versions of themselves.
Kids come from their parents, but they and their lives don't belong to the parents. It's a good idea to share one's thoughts about what is ideal for them. But you shouldn't guide them to that ideal. It's for them to decide. One should pursue and live according to their passion. Even though it may not be the best choice according to others.
Parents will say that they don't want their children to make the same mistakes. But, I say, let them learn their lessons. Life without mistakes isn't worth living. How can you taste the sweetness of success if you never taste the bitterness of failure?
I won't have any particular expectation for my kid if I have one. As long as he can be self sufficient and able to feed himself and his loved ones, I'll be just happy at that.
Questioning My Ethic
I met my parents today. They were stopping by for a few hours before catching the next plane to their next destination.
Each time I meet my parents, I end up contemplating how feeble we are when we become old. My mom is going to have a surgery to remove the cyst in her ovary on January next year. I noticed that my dad's face shows onset face weakness. He said that it's because he's often exposed to the wind, but I don't think so. It's a symptom of light stroke and it will come one day.
I am sad sometimes, because I can't afford a holiday for my parents. The fact that I can't even afford medical support for my parents is more saddening. My dad has passed his retirement age, but his company keeps hiring him because he's a good employee. For the moment, my parents don't need my financial support for medical treatment or holiday, but one day, the day will come and that's frightening! I barely can support my life and I have to stretch my money until the next payday.
I am seeing myself as an individualist. I'm exercising my life goals and dislike anything that's in my way to achieve the goals. One day, my parents will become unable to support themselves and be my burden and hindrance for my future achievements. Even though I am financially independent, in the back of my head, it's nice to have the thought that I can ask for some financial support in the time of need. The motive to use my parents as financial tool is torturing me!
I keep having dialog with myself. One side is comforting my motive. My parents have lived a full life, so I shouldn't feel sorry if I am using them. I still have a long life waiting ahead if I don't die because of crime, persecution or accident. But, the other side of myself is condemning me! It keeps asking where's my ethic? Isn't it a norm that grown ups should support their parents financially whether they can afford or not? The evil side of me defends, "FUCK the norm!!! My parents bring me to this world to carry on their legacy. They are using me as a tool too. So it's a win-win solution."
An individualist need not be an egoist, but the border is a paper thin. It is a problematic matter.
Hostel Living
I lived in a three-story building. There was a restaurant on the ground floor. I had a huge living room with a pool table, WII, and a TV and DVD player. My living room also had a big ice cream freezer and a big refrigerator filled with booze.
I didn't own the whole place. I rented just a bunk bed on the third floor. I shared my bedroom with seven people. Depending on the season, sometimes the room could be filled with a bunch of noisy travelers, a quiet solo traveler or just myself.
Living in a hostel was like living in a student dorm. It was a thrilling life experience that I had never learned formally in school. Hostel living never ceased to amuse me. New faces everyday and new friends to go out with on weekends. Life was good. I lived in the hostel for over a year.
Too bad, good things have to come to an end. They left the hostel one by one. Some had to go back to their home countries to continue their studies and some had to go to other country for work.
Life began to be lonely without your friends. Of course, I still met a couple of great people at the hostel. But, they didn't stay for long. I was reluctant to keep in touch with new acquaintances.
My hostel doesn't accommodate a long staying guest. There were a few occasions that I had to change dorm. That was when a group of guests is booking my dorm. I had to shift to another dorm, even though I had had paid the dorm for a month. The hostel became so noisy when they arrived. Moving my stuffs to another dorm and moved them back to my dorm was troublesome. That was why I moved out from the hostel and rent a room at a shared flat.
Sometimes, I miss the time to linger at the hostel lounge while talking with my friends. We used to talk about how our days were, gossiping who was with whom or which guests that had offended another guests. Those were good times.
Journey of Self Discovery
My parents were born after the second world war. I think, their perception of a successful life is similar with those of the older generation. Study well, get a good job, work hard, get married, have kids, retire, and die happily.
I wanted to have a big house with a pool when I was a kid. I don't know why I wanted it. Probably it would be cool to have one. I wanted to be an engineer when I was at elementary, because I wanted to invent a time machine. I wanted to be an architect when I was in high school. I didn't have passion for buildings, but I like drawing. My graduation grade wasn't enough to enroll to architecture school. So, I chose design school to the dismay of my parents.
I work for two years in my hometown. I didn't have intention to move to Jakarta. But, a turn of event made me to do it. I was fired. The company was a start up company and didn't have enough cash flow to keep the company running.
I thought my journey of self discovery would stop after moving to the capital city. I became wary and questioning myself, "Have I been successful? Am I happy? Am I at the end of my journey?"
I set my eyes to Singapore. I thought I could settle down and spend my life in this new country. I was wrong. That questions keep haunting me like ghost from the past.
Australia is my next destination. Will I be settling there? I don't know. Time will help me to answer it.
Journey of self discovery is a journey of a life time and it is redefined after I reach a goal in life.
My parents measure happiness by how much they have. I measure my happiness by how much I experience.
Celebrating Three Decades of Survival: A Reflection
When I was starting my 20s, I feel like having all the time in the world to do anything. This is a recap of the last decade of my life and a reflection.
My goal was heavily shaped by my parents when I was in my early 20s. It's not surprising because I was living with them at that time. At the time I was living with my parents, I used material possession and location of where one is living as a parameter of achievement. I envied my friends that could live, study, travel and work abroad. I envied how easy it was for them to switch country. I was just starting my career as a low pay graphic designer at that time. Slowly, I earned more money and I could save more. Then I moved to Jakarta. Away from my parents. Gradually, my goal, my parameter of achievement, and my perspective of life started to change when I live apart from them.
I was exposed to backpacker's life when I was staying in a hostel during my travel in Singapore. Wordly possession and living location isn't a matter to me anymore. How much I can explore this vast world and experiencing local's living are my new parameter of achievement. That's it. Traveling the world is my goal now.
I find it amazing when I met a backpacker that can travel from one country to another for years and years. Supporting his/her life with any job that he/she can find along the way. Picking up a new languages during the journey, meeting various people, and experiencing life as a local. My decision to work in Singapore, partially because I want to save money with higher exchange currency than my native country. So that I can travel further.
I am grateful that I could save enough money to sustain my life in Singapore during the first 2 months of unemployment. It took two years to save that bloody money and I was nearly bankrupt in the end of the second month. I was ready to pack back to Jakarta and forget about Singapore. Luckily I got my first job. I worked for six months at that company and it was a hell of eye opening experience. What I thought I know enough about graphic design, turned out to be nothing. I realized how ignorant I was about my field of work. I didn't read any book and didn't bother to improve my skills. I resigned from that job and was ready to pack back to Jakarta.
But, my friend convinced my that I can do better in Singapore rather than in Jakarta. I pushed my luck once more. A week later I got a new job. It's not a flattering job because I am making classified advertisement for newspaper and once in a while I do real design job. I said to myself, I am just working for the end result (money). Then I got bored with my Monday to Friday routine. There are questions that keep rumbling in my mind. What am I going to achieve next? Where am I going to be next? Will I be happy with just earning the money? Will I be able to transfer some knowledge to my juniors if I decide to go back to Jakarta?
How shallow it is if I am just working for the money. That means I will learn nothing and just be a so so graphic designer. I won't be proud of myself when I am in my 40s and reflecting back to my 30s. I have to love my job, I have to be more observant when doing the job, I have to be able to do the job efficiently. These are my homework.
I just turned 30 today. I have fulfilled some of the check list I made in my early 20s.
... And I am grateful for it.
I Am So Tired
I am going to resign. I have been trying to find another job in Singapore but not desperately trying because I have scheme what I plan to do if the worse case scenario happens. Which is going back to Indonesia.
I want to take 6 months break from job hunting. I want focus my time to improve my skills. I want to review my Japanese skills, improve my drawing skill, pick up digital coloring skill and pick up other skills that relate to my field of work, read design books, read history books, read biology books, and other subjects that triggers my curiousity.
The sole purpose of this is I want to stimulate my brain and pick up new skills. I am hoping after 6 months I can revamp my portfolio and resume. So that I can apply for the job I want confidently, because I have the skills and sufficient knowledge. I barely have time to enrich myself, pick up new skills, or read books in my spare time while I am working. After work, I have an urge to socialize!
I have been working for 6 years. I feel unsatisfied about the works I have produced. Whenever I see my previous work, I always think I could do better. I feel like a robot at work. I'm losing my creativity. I do what I am told. I feel like I am out of track. No strong solid ground to defend or justify the reason of my artwork. I have to make a design that is beyond visually good. I want to make a design that answers the problem. I want to make a design that gives solution!
Every time I have interviews at companies that I am dying to work for, the interviewers are always doubting my skills. They said that I may have the potential but my portfolio isn't convincing! I am so jealous with my friends that have worked with big names.
My parents disapprove my idea. They think it's just waste of time and money. Their concept of success is working at a good company and earning a sum of money that can fulfill your desirable lifestyle. They are the type of persons that always look to the sky but doesn't realize that to reach the sky they have to build a rocket and to build a rocket they need a sufficient knowledge to build one.
My steps are stumbled. My breath is heavy. I feel like carrying weight on my shoulders.
I feel so tired...
Red Light District Tour
I went to Geylang area for a tour tonight. Even though I had been expecting to see this famous district of Singapore, this tour was not planned. I was scared that I would be harassed because I was wearing hot pants. An Indian guy who is staying at the same hostel with me said it should not be a problem. Girls are completely safe even at 2 am.
He is my guide to tour around the area. He said that the area was more lively about two years ago. He could see girls on the street. Now the girls are waiting inside the brothel. I passed by a brothel and I could see them sitting inside a big glass room. They looked like they were sitting inside a giant aquarium. The girls working in this area are Chinese, Thai, Bangladeshi, Spanish and even Indonesian.
At the other corner of Geylang, we met a group of transvestites from Thailand. There were around five or six of them. One transvestite was sitting on the side walk. His legs were wide open. No panties... I could see his bushy pubic hair!!! Oh bloody sweet Geezus! He was not pleased when we walked across them. He shouted at us in Thai and one of his friends chased us yelling, "Fuck you!" I was scared that he would beat us into a pulp.
At the other corner, we met a nice Malay Singaporean girl. She sat on the sidewalk with no panties and I could see her thing too. We had a little chat. She said that a decent girl walking in this area must be accompanied by a male companion. If not, the police officers will mistakenly think the girl is a prostitute and put her in jail.
I wanted to take some pictures around the area but I was afraid it would cause trouble. It was a thrilling experience. My feet are tired because of walking around the area. I am not going to revisit Geylang in any time soon. The transvestites really scared the shit out of me!
I Shouldn't Have Given Up My Bunk
My bedroom in my hostel is a big dormitory room with a lot of double bed bunks. I always prefer to sleep on the lower bunk because I can put up a cover around my bed. It feels like I am building a tent.
One day, a whole Malaysian family came to the hostel. Uncle Tong, the person in charge at that time, asked me to give up my bunk for one night. He would trade it with a better bunk in the female dormitory. I was happy to sleep in the female dormitory because it's cleaner, more private, and the bathroom has a big mirror.
The next day, I saw a big backpack on my bed. A new guest had taken over my bed!!! I had to sleep on the upper bed in the corner of the room. It was disaster because the ceiling was leaking at night when it was raining hard. The water hit me bull's eye on the forehead. CRAP!!!
I changed my head to the other direction of the bed and it was even worse. The air conditioner was a few centimeters above my head and it blew directly to my face. I got runny nose in less than a minute. I shouldn't have listened to the old man and this wouldn't have happened.
Luckily the guest only occupied the bed for two nights. I moved to my original bed as fast as I can when she moved out. It's good to have my bunk back.
Life After A Failure
Many books, talk shows, or workshops are talking about how to be successful or how to build habits that will lead to a successful life. So far, I haven't seen anything about life after a failure. People prefer not to talk about embarrassing things. After lost count of how many failures I've made. I would like to share some helpful points to keep going on with your life.
- Except yourself. Everybody fails. You are not the first person that fails and won't be the last either. A failure isn't the end of your life. Unless you decide to end your life by suicide.
- Analyze. Note down every important point that contributes to your failure. Every failure is a lesson to gain in experience. Make a comparison to another person that has successfully achieved the same goal as you. Analyze every point that contributes to his/ her success. Learn it and use it for your next attempt. If you are sick of trying, you should skip this point.
- Indulge yourself. Take a break from your daily life. Do whatever you like! Pursue your hobbies. If you don't have a specific hobby, do an activity that makes you happy. Make a beautiful memory of yourself. After some time, you'll say, "Been there, done that" to yourself. I won't explain it further. You know what it is.
- Make a short term goal. A short term goal is a practical goal and effortless to achieve. For instance, saving $1 of your salary is effortless. After some time it will amount to something.
- Write a book. I think I should publish a book about this topic after writing all those four points above. I could charge you some money for it but I share these points for free because I am generous.
What Would You Say?
A woman recently wrote a heartbreaking confession in the counseling section of a magazine that I read.
She was raped shortly after being wed. The rapist was her sister-in-law's husband. Her husband was being treated at a hospital and her sister-in-law was at the hospital to visit him at that time. The woman told her sister-in-law about the incident. Her sister in law asked her forgiveness and begged her not to disclose this to their families and relatives. She was heartbroken because no one stood beside her. Not even her husband. Her husband and her sister in law prefer to save themselves from embarrassment.
Shortly after, the woman was pregnant and gave birth to a son. Her sister in law adopted the woman's son as an act to redeem her husband's bad deed. Two decades later, the son is aspiring to be a pastor and is studying at a seminary now. The woman's heart wound hasn't healed. She is longing for her son to recognize her as his biological mother. Up until now, her son knew her as his aunt. The rapist has grown old, weak, and sick. She has been distant with her husband since that incident.
In that article, she is asking how to tell her son about the truth and what would be the best way to tell her son.
If I was her counselor, I would suggest her to take the truth to the grave for her son's good sake. It's cruel but it would be the best. Any sane mother would love to be recognized by her own flesh and blood but telling the truth might make the son hate the origin of his existence. He might also think that God has destined him to be a pastor as a redemption of his biological father's deed. Not because of his pure love of God . Moreover his son has many years in his life to come but the woman has reached her old age. The truth might hurt her son for the rest of his life.
What would you say if you were the counselor of that article?
My Salary
I earned little salary when I started my career. It was only enough to eat. Fortunately, I stayed with my parents and rode dad's car to office.
I moved to Jakarta two years later. My salary was doubled but I wasn't financially independent. My salary was only enough to pay half the rent, food, and transportation. I couldn't save. I wanted higher salary.
I moved to other company two years later. My salary is doubled and I financially independent. I can save and I live a better life, but I want higher salary. I want to separate emergency money from saving and I want to allocate some money for investment.
Humans never get enough money.
I should grow some money from a tree.