Around a month ago, I went to French Film Festival in Jakarta. That event had successfully brought me to a place called Metropole (previously known as Megaria), where I had never set my feet although I’m familiar with the area. I watched two movies marathon, La Bete et La Belle and Clouds of Sils Maria.
I also got the chance to meet my friend, Dimas, who worked for the French cultural centre. Finally. After years.
We talked a little bit before and in the middle of the two movies break. When Sils Maria finished, my headache returned. Walking out fishy, I met him again, and this time, for longer conversation.
“Where are you working now?”
That question still strikes me, until now.
“What are you doing there?”, “What do you wanna do?” and all.
I was like, speechless. Maybe because the headache. Maybe not. “Well, yeah, I don’t really know what’s next,” I said to him.
“C’mon, let’s go outside, talk more and I wanna smoke.”
I’m not a smoker and I even had bronchitis. I always avoid smoke but for this one, I think I might stay a little. I haven’t seen him for really a while. Besides, I seriously needed a deep conversation on things. And I sensed this was going to be a great talk, even though I couldn't answer that much due to headache and smoke. My brain was obviously slow that day.
“Why you quit?” he asked.
I started mumbling about everything, then letting out on choosing the wrong path years ago, fearing of failure to meet my parents’ expectations and being lost. I needed a conversation, but I didn’t know what to say. As if words betrayed me. Until Dimas admitted something I didn’t know about him before and, somehow, kinda waking me up, breaking through the smoke in my head.
“You know what, lucky you, I didn’t even graduate from uni,” he said, while lighting up a stranger visitor’s cigarette. “At first, again it’s all about why and what you’re gonna do...bla bla bla.”
When I said why and how he could make such decision. He answered, “I just couldn’t get the idea of being educated by someone who is dumber than I am.” Nice! I laughed.
We both are no Zuckerberg or Gates. But he managed to live up his dreams, even though it might not seem like we think it is. “Most of the things I do outside IFI are mostly spending, instead of earning. What’s the problem with that? I love it!”
The interesting part was when he shared his POV. The way things around sometimes are always better. “It’s just the same when someone spends money to go to salon or do hobbies. This is my hobby. Why can’t I do it?”
He admitted that “people like us would be considered crazy by others”. We both agree, who cares?
Dimas has experiences in film industry and his works have been trusted by filmmakers. He got the conclusion that probably brings back my faith when I said that I've been trying to live the days without plan after getting back from US. “I got faith on what I’m doing. And what happen? Mostly, I’m always back in here, getting the chance to do what I like. You have to have the faith.”
Now, I know where the problem is. Yeah, I have lost my faith without realizing it. Later he shared his annoyance on people who look down or question his choice in filming, without any degree gained. “I can do films without any proper degree. I can do that. What I don’t understand is...when someone with Medical degree ended up becoming a director, then, people would appreciate that more. It’s the way people think that I don’t get.”
There said, I think the invisible thing called faith will get me back on track. Gotta find it back. Keep on writing, on this blog, even though there’s no one reading it. Or on somewhere else...
That day, I got many things to process. The movies I watched, the conversation, and the fight in me. So maybe I have to put things differently in order to be happy.
Separately since few weeks ago, I got three notebooks. New ones, with blank pages ready and fresh. I got the green notebook with a Christmas card as well, sent by my editor.
I do believe that there are things designed as not just coincidence. These blank pages meant something. The senders probably didn't have certain intention on this, but it’s just how the universe works. Blank pages. I need to write more.
Months ago I met a psychiatric and went under counseling. She searched for any trauma that I have been through that makes me so hard to keep on walking forward in peace. “Forgive everything and start a new life, moving on,” she later closed our session. I wasn’t fully ready.
|Happy New Year! Happy Moving On!|
Now, this could be the sign. I’ll do what makes me happy, no matter what it takes. Black swirl on ink is about to dance.
... what happens in my bedroom, stays in my bedroom...