Just Random Thoughts

[rambleonmyhead]

Ephemeral

Love and lust, someone said there's just a thin line between them

The heartbeat-racing, yet the tears are also flowing

The overflowing smiles, but then it's overwhelming

You feel it, you lose it

It's tempting, but then it's boring

What is love? What is lust?

Should it be questioned? Should it be left unanswered?

Love and lust, it's like a puzzle that tangled

But, it's somehow beautiful yet it's ephemeral

[rambleonmyhead]

You may or you may not be happy right now, but the sun still rise and the moon still shine

The universe around you may not be changed, the routinity still there

The clock's ticking may sound so horrible, but it's always ticking anyway

.

.

Maybe it's not the world around you

Maybe it's you, who needs to change

Maybe it's you, who needs the change(s).

[toiich]

Ingmar Bergman

[arylleth]

"If your tooth hurts, your tongue keeps going there. You are always conscious of a wound." — Ingmar Bergman

And so it is with the soul.

We return, again and again, to the ache—not for pleasure, not even out of compulsion, but because pain demands attention. It is the sentinel of the self. As the tongue probes the hollow socket where something once was whole, the mind circles its absences, the heart fingers its fractures.

We are, as Virginia Woolf once wrote, “perpetually accompanied by an inner atmosphere, sometimes as thick as thunder, sometimes clear as air.” That atmosphere is our woundscape. We live inside it. Even joy is measured by the shadows that precede it.

Psychologist Bessel van der Kolk reminds us that trauma is not stored as narrative, but as sensation. The body keeps the score. And so, it is not memory that draws us back to the wound, but muscle, marrow, instinct. Something in us aches not merely to remember, but to resolve. Yet resolution is a rare language—we more often repeat, relive, re-injure.

Sociologist Zygmunt Bauman calls our time “liquid modernity”: identities shifting, bonds evaporating, griefs without burial. In such a world, wounds fester not because they are deep, but because they are unseen. We are no longer given the rituals to mourn them, no space to speak of what is not successful, what is not clean.

Yet as Umberto Galimberti warns, "pain is not an illness to be cured, it is a condition of existence to be experienced." Suffering is not an anomaly. It is not an error in the system. It is the system's most honest moment—its unwelcome truth.

Brianna Wiest writes: “True transformation occurs not when we go in search of a different life, but when we find new eyes with which to see the one we already have.” Healing, then, is not about fleeing the wound, but letting it revise our gaze.

There is the possibility—tenuous, unglamorous, slow—of tending.

We do not cauterize the soul. We irrigate it.

Not with noise, not with performance, but with attention. Real, quiet, watchful attention. As Rilke urges, “Perhaps everything terrible is in its deepest being something helpless that wants help.”

The tongue may return to the tooth. Let it. But instead of prodding the nerve, perhaps we may listen to what it keeps whispering.

That something once hurt. That something was lost. That something still matters.

And that to suffer is not a failure of strength, but a call to presence.

So what can be done?

We name it. We breathe around it. We stop asking the wound to vanish and begin asking what it needs—not to disappear, but to be seen without recoil.

Healing does not mean erasure. It means integration.

As Wiest puts it, “You don't become whole by turning away from what is broken. You become whole by stepping into it.”

A life lived not in spite of the wound—but with it. With grace. With awareness. With the tongue at last learning not only to return, but to stay.

[rambleonmyhead]

Adakah satu waktu bukan untuk jemu?

Kamu rindu dengan waktu dan senyummu yang merayu

Rindu tatapan penuh makna dan hati yang tak meragu

Adakah satu waktu kembali ke masa itu?

Bukan untuk mengubah, tapi kembali merasa

Bukan untuk menyesali, tapi ingin mengalami lagi

Karena ada harapan yang menggebu

Ada hati yang lugu

Ada jiwa yang meyakini kalbu

Adakah satu waktu itu?

Kamu hanya ingin, tapi itu tak mungkin

.

.

Lalu,

Adakah waktu, untuk kembali merasakan itu?

[rambleonmyhead]

Isn't it poetic?

You barely can see the sunrise, you almost never see the sunset

But, you got applauses. Got every thumbs up.

You forgot all the tiredness

of that "success" you framed in your head

Later on,

You still barely see the sunrise. Got almost no time seeing the sunset

But now with almost no applause, nor the thumbs up

Your heart is drying

Your mind is wondering

Your soul is examining.. why all the sweetness becomes so sour?

Again..

Isn't it still poetic?

You barely can see the sunrise. Never had the chance to see the magnificent sunset

Yet, you crawl in the uncertainty

Begging for once, you feel again the breeze of 'happiness' that framed in your head

Until one day.. you begin to questioned,

.

.

Was it all poetic?

Or was it just.. pathetic?

[rambleonmyhead]

What should I do when everything's going south?

Should I sailed back?

Should I go straight?

I'd rather not choosing. Cause I don't know what's missing.

Should I eat up my ego?

or should I just.. go south too?

[rambleonmyhead]

sometimes it's near

sometimes it's not here

for what I've been waiting, where are you hiding?

may the best be with me

but at last I'd just let it be

for what it's worth, I shall be right here

not wondering where should I'd get goin

just waiting

for the time to let me, be me.

[saintmarc]

[rambleonmyhead]

PILOT

Oh, so finally I'm here again. Started out this "mini-blogging"-kinda thing~ since 2009 and whooosss I forgot my password and well yeah, those thoughts and stories and laughters and tearjerkers and any kind of feelings I've been puttin on this channel was gone. Well, not completely... but I cannot fully access it and that's kind of annoying.

Okay, enough with the horrible starter...To be honest, I finally come to my sense and think about, "why don't I start blogging again? it's free, it's amusing, it's where I can express every single pieces ramble on my head" so voila! this is it: ramble on my head 🤪 But, then again, I think this is gonna be the place that mimicking my own "psychiatry clinics" because turning 30-ish is somehow..... complicated. Many things I've achieved. Many things I've given up. Still, many things I haven got yet. It's a roller coaster; sometimes I enjoy it, sometimes I just laugh at it, sometimes.... I just wanna throw up 😄 And sometimes, I really. really wanna give up. Tell me it's so humane, right?

Now, I'm almost 33. Married with one kid. Happy, at least with what I have right now, but still wanting things that I somehow cannot explain to myself. I want to progress, in my career, but somehow I don't like my job. I want to do what I love, but again, too afraid to start just because I don't have any background in it, not to mention the pressure that will be given by my 'dear' family *sigh*; the "are you sure? are you out of your mind? are you dumb? are you nutss??!" kinda thing~ oh well those thoughts are killing me. I want a peaceful mind....Yeah, I think for now, I just want to be at ease. To make peace with myself. To tapped my back and say "hey, that's okay, we can do it. thank you for thriving, thank you for everything". I just want to feel content. Be happy of what I am, what I have, what I've achieved right now. But... how? Why is it so hard?

I miss my younger self.

I miss my youthful times.

Well, enough with today's rambles. Hope tomorrow will be better and fill with positivity 😄

Ciao!