I don’t remember how it started but when I was growing up, I hated the fact that I am a girl. I know that it hadn’t always been like that. I remember not caring. However, at some point, I started hating the fact that I was not a boy. It wasn’t because I wasn’t allowed to play with “boy’s toys”, my parents were great about that (I hated toy cars anyway. I thought they were stupid and making up stories with my dolls was more fun). It wasn’t even because that I have to wear dresses. There were occasions where I had to wear dresses even though I wasn’t comfortable with them, but most of my clothes were T-shirts and jeans. It wasn’t because I wasn’t allowed to read “boy’s stories”. My parents were more concerned that we had no more room to host the explosion that my growing collection of books was.
I hated the fact that I wasn’t a boy because I wasn’t allowed to freedom to think, act, and dream that boys were allowed to. Continue reading
“You look different,” my dentist’s assistant observed when I came in for my 6-months check-up
“How so?” I asked, intrigued.
“I don’t know, you just look… happier,” she answered. “Different job? Did you move? Anything changed?”
“Nope,” I laughed, going quickly through what had changed since I met her last summer. “Same old.”
“Maybe you fell in love,” she mused and looked at me strangely when I said no. “You really do look happier.”
Gadis itu tak dapat mengingat alasannya berada di tempat ini, di tengah-tengah pesta besar di malam natal ini, namun ia masih dapat mengingat suaramu. Ia tak dapat mengingat alasan kalian membicarakan tempat ini, namun ia dapat mengingat pintamu. Tunggu aku di sana, katamu saat meneleponnya dua hari yang lalu. Aku akan datang sebelum tengah malam, janjimu waktu itu. Ketika ia bertanya di mana ia harus menunggumu, kau hanya tertawa dan mengatakan bahwa pada saatnya ia akan tahu.
Once upon a time, there was a grass stalk living alone on a top of a mountain
As a seed, it used to live with its mother and father on a warm savanna,
but the north wind blew it away to the top of the rocky mountain
Sometimes a couple grass seeds flow pass it on their way.
“You’re so lucky!” they always say. “You’ve got a nice view up here!”
“You can stay here with me too,” it always says.
But they never stay, the strong wind always blows them away.
The wind is always strong on the top of the mountain,
but the little grass stalk holds on with its brittle root.
You see, it’s not easy for a little grass stalk to root itself on a rocky mountain.
The rocks are too strong and its root cannot pierce it.
But the little grass stalk holds on,
amidst the summer heat, the autumn wind, the winter freeze, and the spring rain.
When the storm comes, and oh does it come,
the little grass stalk holds on to the ground,
and pray that this time the wind still won’t be strong enough
to blow it to the place where the sunlight could not pass through.
It was ten past nine in the night of a Thursday in January.
As I was crossing the bridge, the wind blowed with a renewed vigour. I was wrapped inside my coat, hood protecting my head. And there was this moment of… understanding. Of perfect solitude. It’s as if the world was empty, nothing but the sound of the wind and the crunch of my feet against the concrete. The cars were speeding, but they didn’t matter. Nothing mattered.
I’ve found the answer.
I slowed down, advancing like a baby learning how to walk. I didn’t waver though. My feet was planted firmly to the ground, and I firmly walked towards my goal. I didn’t waver. I must have had a dazed expression on my face, and I could feel that my jaw was hanging open. My head felt clear for the first time in months. Everything seemed brighter, more intense.
I’ve found the answer.
As I got near the building, I slid down the hood from my head and the wind blowed directly on my face with a full force. On the sidewalk, a couple was talking quietly. The Žižkov TV tower blinked its red light in the distance. It’s as if everything and nothing made sense for the very first time.
I’ve found the answer.
Now I just have to ask the right question.
Originally titled “Proof that You Shouldn’t Leave Me Alone With My Thought For Too Long”, or alternately “I Suck At Title”
“Can you not turn the light off when you go out?” asked a little boy to his mother.
“Ah, darling,” said his mother, smiling. “But I must.”
“But mama,” a little girl, the boy’s twin sister, protested. “If you turned the light off, we would not be able to see each other!”
The mother, seeing that her children clearly did not understand the reasoning behind it, sat on the little girl’s bed and tried to explain.
“You see, I must,” she said with her gentlest voice. “For it is only in the dark that you truly see the truth that was hiding under all the lights.”
“What truth could that be, mama?” asked the boy, intrigued.
“Yes, what truth could that be?” echoed the girl.
“See, sweethearts…,” the mother smiled again. “It is only in the dark that you will realized, that no matter how hard you tried…,”
“You’re all alone when the end comes.”