It's Gonna Rain
Yeah,
I'm back in Cibogo and it's gonna rain. And yes, I'm still giving more training. I'll be staying till Tuesday and when the last session is done I'll be heading back for Jakarta. For some reason I'm losing steam today. By noon I was losing my voice and my will to continue the lessons. My class was running faster than I was. They were trying exercises that I hadn't even get to explain yet. But no matter, I like proactive students. I just had to make sure that we would still have a couple of exercises for the next day. If they finished all the exercises, there would be no more material for to go over during the last day.
Giving training here in Cibogo has given me quite a beneficial distraction from the every day routine. No families, no friends, and no traffic whatsoever. The only one thing that is lacking is no girlfriend. At least I get to go home during weekends.
Ever since coming here, there were things that I left behind in Jakarta, emotional baggages...but I don't know whether I should think of them as emotional baggages. I'm not sure. Well, let me try to list them:
1. The death of an aunt of my stepfather, and
2. My real father getting married again and changing his religion
The circumstances surrounding the death of my aunt is not...common. I mean, it was a natural death, but a supposedly preventable one or one that could be delayed for quite some time. This is the heart of the matter. But I am reluctant to divulge the matter further since I am not keen in opening up family matters that does not relate directly to me. What is bothering me is that I didn't want to know more. I didn't care. I know this is my stepfather's sister, but he is the one with whom I spent my time growing up. Not perfect, but he's my father. But, I couldn't let myself care more. I didn't ask him how he felt.
Okay, okay, I know guys don't ask one another about how they feel. Us from the male species are not accustomed to this. But still...
If you ask me whether I was close to this auntie, well the answer is no. I'm just scared that I'm losing my caring self. It could be bad, it could be good. Maybe that means that I won't be such a hypocrite anymore. But I don't know.
But maybe, by musing about this in my blog, maybe I do care. At least I spent some effort in trying to put my feelings into words. At least I was thinking about it when I was writing this. Or maybe I was just looking for things to write about.
I'm so bad...
About my real father getting married again...this will be his third marriage. My real father left my mother when I was barely even 1 year old. I didn't even know he existed (although I had my suspicion) until I was 21. If he hadn't tried contacting me, maybe I would have gone on not knowing anything about him. But that's a story for another time...
So, yes, my real father's getting married again. And he's changing his religion. So, right now he's got a son (me) and a daughter (my stepsister from his second marriage). Seems like he's about to score one again. The woman he's marrying is only about 3 or 4 years older than I am. And she's tall. Not exactly that pretty, but okay.
The thing is that, I couldn't even care less. Maybe I do care a bit, but the guy's never there for me since I was only a wee lad. A baby. He was just another stranger that suddenly became a part of my life. A small part, at least for now.
And still I couldn't care less. I'm just afraid that I'm becoming numb. Very numb. I hope it's just because I'm tired. Or maybe I don't have to make such a big deal out of these things. Or should I?
So, yeah, by the time I got to this point of my writing, it was still raining outside. The smell of wet grass and wet earth mingled, giving off a fresh aroma.
Maybe I just have to enjoy my time here. Before I come back.
While I still can.
I'm back in Cibogo and it's gonna rain. And yes, I'm still giving more training. I'll be staying till Tuesday and when the last session is done I'll be heading back for Jakarta. For some reason I'm losing steam today. By noon I was losing my voice and my will to continue the lessons. My class was running faster than I was. They were trying exercises that I hadn't even get to explain yet. But no matter, I like proactive students. I just had to make sure that we would still have a couple of exercises for the next day. If they finished all the exercises, there would be no more material for to go over during the last day.
Giving training here in Cibogo has given me quite a beneficial distraction from the every day routine. No families, no friends, and no traffic whatsoever. The only one thing that is lacking is no girlfriend. At least I get to go home during weekends.
Ever since coming here, there were things that I left behind in Jakarta, emotional baggages...but I don't know whether I should think of them as emotional baggages. I'm not sure. Well, let me try to list them:
1. The death of an aunt of my stepfather, and
2. My real father getting married again and changing his religion
The circumstances surrounding the death of my aunt is not...common. I mean, it was a natural death, but a supposedly preventable one or one that could be delayed for quite some time. This is the heart of the matter. But I am reluctant to divulge the matter further since I am not keen in opening up family matters that does not relate directly to me. What is bothering me is that I didn't want to know more. I didn't care. I know this is my stepfather's sister, but he is the one with whom I spent my time growing up. Not perfect, but he's my father. But, I couldn't let myself care more. I didn't ask him how he felt.
Okay, okay, I know guys don't ask one another about how they feel. Us from the male species are not accustomed to this. But still...
If you ask me whether I was close to this auntie, well the answer is no. I'm just scared that I'm losing my caring self. It could be bad, it could be good. Maybe that means that I won't be such a hypocrite anymore. But I don't know.
But maybe, by musing about this in my blog, maybe I do care. At least I spent some effort in trying to put my feelings into words. At least I was thinking about it when I was writing this. Or maybe I was just looking for things to write about.
I'm so bad...
About my real father getting married again...this will be his third marriage. My real father left my mother when I was barely even 1 year old. I didn't even know he existed (although I had my suspicion) until I was 21. If he hadn't tried contacting me, maybe I would have gone on not knowing anything about him. But that's a story for another time...
So, yes, my real father's getting married again. And he's changing his religion. So, right now he's got a son (me) and a daughter (my stepsister from his second marriage). Seems like he's about to score one again. The woman he's marrying is only about 3 or 4 years older than I am. And she's tall. Not exactly that pretty, but okay.
The thing is that, I couldn't even care less. Maybe I do care a bit, but the guy's never there for me since I was only a wee lad. A baby. He was just another stranger that suddenly became a part of my life. A small part, at least for now.
And still I couldn't care less. I'm just afraid that I'm becoming numb. Very numb. I hope it's just because I'm tired. Or maybe I don't have to make such a big deal out of these things. Or should I?
So, yeah, by the time I got to this point of my writing, it was still raining outside. The smell of wet grass and wet earth mingled, giving off a fresh aroma.
Maybe I just have to enjoy my time here. Before I come back.
While I still can.
1 Comments:
At 5:59 PM,
Miss Lai Lai said…
I wasn't gonna post some comments, but I might as well put my 2c (or whatever's worth you think it should be) comment.
First thing first - u should stay in Cibogo, you're on a roll with blogging. But the Lady may not approve such move..oh well..
Now, the real comment.
From what I know, (knowing you from our chats, etc), I don't think you are losing your caring self. You are just being 'selective' in what you care. Life is too short to care about everything. Surely, it's understandable that you don't feel anything for the death of your stepdad's aunt. Hey, if it was my dad, well, ..I'd probably feel the same. It's no biggie. She's probably quite old alreday rite? So, it's bound to come. Sad, yes, but life goes on. As for asking how your dad feels, well, no need to ask laaah...u can tell probably from his expressions. But then, this is just what I think.
Second comment - well, to be honest, it was interesting to learn about your dad. Think I may have read somewhere about you having a 'twisted' life. My thought is - feel what you feel, and care only what you feel. What's the point of caring if it was not done sincerely?
I am like that these days. If things don't affect me, or people that I care, I just..don't care. I'll notice, but I won't think too much of it.
Come to think of it, i think this comment may be worth more than 2cents..
Time to update my blog..
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