Saturday, September 6, 2014

cathartic process of giving a birth to some works

".. a process of story telling is a cathartic process.." -Benedict Cumberbatch on Stuart-A Life Backwards Interview

it is... cathartic. The headache, the body function that failed to accommodate the responsibilities of carrying on what I have in life. My job, my daily needs and responsibilities. I want to go out of all of them. Take a day off or two. Being sick of daily routines facing the same idiots. The superior who can't face the reality that his and her employees are limited in the amount and in the skills (am having fun talking about people's negative traits) that I tried so hard to add more people to my department to be trained by me, yet she always slows me down, or facing my donkey brain subordinate who always makes the same mistakes over and over made me even more stupid to tell him over and over about the same mistakes. I had enough with every student that goes into my English department is only my privilege to teach, also now I teach math (I did remember I ask only teaching English, and that I avoid math and physics which consumate my brain and erase important places that I should put English in it). I hardly ever sit in my own desk to do other 2 divisions' agenda. Insufficient salary for triple jobs. Great, I wouldn't do it if I hadn't got the scholarship and now on my way to a bigger place with more salary in the job. I'm sick of everything that's in my life right now. Well, obviously except for Dale, the gorgeous son of mine. and even Dale, I can't be with him at the moment because of the stupid creature that left us in which I refer to Dale's father.

The cathartic process is always there when I have the urge to give a birth to some works. Yesterday painting, writing, movie, and video clips are in the line of my results after having the cathartic process. I remember even giving birth to Dale wasn't this scary and draining alot of energy. Now, stack of papers of lesson plans can give me the cathartic feeling and in the same time makes me drown in never ending happiness. I have no idea how I ended as being an English teacher. Those journeys of having relationship with arts (except music-was forbidden for me as my singer mother's daughter) from painting, writing, making movies (don't bother to measure how stupid I am that I'm not that into the history of arts except for movies that the bliss of ignorance from not knowing about others' works is a way for me to make myself thrilled by nonsense and feel free to produce anything without the worrying of committing plagiarism), then architecture made me realize, What am I doing here in the world of arts if in the end I only being an English teacher which is an effective way of never study and work for the rest of my life because all I need to do is just browsing and finishing everything in English which is my way in watching movies. I actually never work anymore, nowadays. I don't need to think rapidly how to finish some writings when my editor shouted in my inboxes all the time about the deadlines, or when I have to cast some unskilled people to fit in the characters. Arrgghhh... I wish I could clon Ben and also make some female versions of him to be put as my actors and actreesses, hahah. At that time I don't need to waste weeks of searching the right person for the characters, and I don't need to play myself to play the twisted split personality character role who acts as lesbian, peacemaker, bestfriend, caring person, and a fake hero(with Linkin Park soundtrack-gosh,it was so cool) at the same time. It was that funny that all people around me forced me to finish the script and forced me to create this nonsense role of ambiguous characters in a female version that in the end I'm the one who acted it.

It was cathartic to give birth to some pages of poems or essays about my past to inspire people and then to be posted in Facebook or my blog just to clear the mind to get on with the life I have. It took days of filthy activities not paying attention to my own health and hygiene. and after that I had to take a bath like 3 times a day to get back to another me which was always ready to have sex. It is cathartic, to toss away this one page of junkthought to clear my mind and go on with my lesson plans. Finish them, Vina! finish them! aren't you the Dale-functioning sociopath?! Finish them! Take the money, and travel to your gorgeous son.    

Wednesday, September 3, 2014


have to find something to erase those voices and back to sanity...

as my sanity faded away,
just you (my diary) and me,
in a quiet symphony,
at times absolute madness,
saves the days

from Junkthought 1


my heart hurt, heartache.. I dunno why. Just had my lunch and I felt so sleepy. I only ate batagor, not rice, because I believe rice makes me so so sleepy. I asked bapak, he said Dale is so sleepy just after he had lunch. Owh, ok then this is the biologist relation of a mother and her son. Ok, then I don't need to worry, also before I contacted Ibu, my step mom and my grandfather. Ibu replied, but grandpa, not yet. a little bit worried. If Dale sleepy, then his mom should take a cup of coffee, and that's what I'm going to do. Gosh, I still have elementary 4, Can Do 3 lesson plans and bunch of papers to be examined and report by the end of this week. Dunno if I can manage it, I surely have to. I think I'm just tired being the straight A teacher. Being the best at 2 places is quite exhausting eventually, hahaha.. I have to make it, I have Dale
well, I guess I'm just missing Dale... so much

Tuesday, September 2, 2014

Watch You Later

this English (sometimes math) teacher has got works to do including hundreds of pages of students' writings to correct, end  terms reports for 3 classes, and lesson plans by the end of the week. So I'll sit back and relax watch Parade's End while my other life rushing to finish the whole works (I can do both at the same time-kidding, I'll watch when I need to stretch this 33 years old woman's back). So... I'll watch you later...

The Origin of Vina's Junkthoughts

The Origin of Vina's Junkthoughts:a letter for Living-in-London Mom
Why can't people just think?!
(from Sherlock)

This kind of question always popped out of my head every time there were troubles in the family, my little family and in the big family (but without the 3rd generation of 25 grand children including me-might want to keep the quarrels stay till the 2nd generation. Hope so, because we have Dale as the 4th generation.I want to create better family environment for him, unlike what had happened to me, my half younger sister, and my half younger brothers. Who would thought I am the only child from the same father and mother while I have 3 younger siblings from my Mom and Dad separately. And why should I always attracted to English actors such as Brosnan, Jude Law, Hugh Grant, Stephen Moyer, and now.. Ben. and Why Should Mom lives in London-my biologist mother in which I stayed in her womb only 9 months. She gave a birth to me and then gave me up 2 months later and then showed up 29 years in advance just to ask for inheritance. Then when she couldn't get it she just flew away back to London. Can I say Dale has the same fate?! My mom left me, and Dale's father left him. Don't worry, my son, you're not alone, your mom has the same experience and I will always be there for all questions that you want to ask about how cruel people can be. Even though the person is your own biologist parent. If mom doesn't live in London, maybe I'll find my way to London that I always like anything about England since I was a child, especially London. This reminds me when I gave an English Placement test for a student. I was the examiner and when she was asked about particular city in the world that she chose if she has the opportunity to study abroad, she picked London. She transferred from regular English to Cambridge English course. She couldn't give the reason, and I understand exactly, why. I myself don't know why I love London, maybe it's the same like I was born in Jakarta and that I love that city that much though she's cruel enough to make me living in another city, Bandung, for 15 years. Yet every weekend I always go to Jakarta to visit my grandfather. Or I just missed my cruel city. Or maybe when I always create fictional characters in my writings that end up in New York, trapped in luxury studio apartment in Manhattan. I can fool a foreigner in  Kansas when we were playing Castle Age

about the whole group of guild who live in Brooklyn, Salonika, and Indonesia were all actually made up by me. I had to create my particular ex that always clings on me until the beginning of this year, to live and to die. I felt the need of killing him. and this poor foreigner felt sorry and so sad when my ex's character had to die in a bike accident in Salonika. The pictures are real, can't believe he actually thought my ex came from China with his tall slender but muscular perfect proportion-look.

He might felt loss, but my ex and I hurt deeper for 8 years we couldn't be together. That Allah gave a way for us to meet not coincidentally - there's no such thing as coincidence, Star Trek Into Darkness-

 in 1993 that we didn't know each other yet, and then later He made us to meet again in 2006 to fall in love and then it had to be over because he already married at that time. I can never accept married man. It's like I'm bitching my father's third wife for taking my father away and then I became her. It's absolutely not in my agenda.  Now I know why I can sit for hours watching White Collar. Too many about me in the parentheses, hahah) as well.

Those times, when I had to struggle for my step mom who raised me since I was 4 (I can't believe I'm so aware of who my father was-it feels like yesterday when my aunt from my biologist mother came to my kindergarten school and showed my father picture with her. How young I was and aware that my father is a womanizer. Is it that cruel to let a girl that young knew the true color of her own Dad? This auntie not even put on a masked-Give a man a mask and he will tell you the truth-Oscar Wilde.

Or is it my benefit of being aware in a very young age that made me can get through all of these? Others will say I have my own miseries. I always say... I have my own adventures. and the family is my battlefield. Never like politics and manipulation, but in the end I have to manipulate people. -

...I have the brain of the Devil's hand. 
Everyone is attached to my Demon's Plans. 
It's like conducting the orchestra, 
I placed them in my own drama. 
Suck them dried and take the whole advantages,
for the sake of making better places
I’m the devil’s advocate of any brainstorming
I’m the sarcastic of any warm greeting
my protective shield is thick
no one could have me as a pick
but sometimes I do feel alone
in the conspiracy of my own...

from Vina's Junkthoughts : Kisah Seorang Pelacur Kehidupan, chapter 2, page 22-23.
PANDORA BOX 1703'99 by Vina

yeah I understand who Khan is in Star Trek Into Darkness, I got myself the real one, which is me)and my half younger sister when father left.

"Mozart could go to sleep and wake up with the whole symphony and no idea how they got there"-Hawking

by they way, I'm 33, was born in 1981, some like it hot....

(finally I talked about this wonderful work of Ben, it's like there's a load in my chest that I can't unload. I want to watch again but I couldn't. It's more than just touching, all great and positive adjectives can't describe his work here. It's more than those, beyond those great credits and praises. It's like I wanted to cry for the whole session of the movie but I couldn't. Ben pictured Hawking so brave, with great eagerness, without hesitation about his illness, without sighing, always smiling-I agree,I always smile though people think I'm so pathetic or when they feel sad about me. This is just a life that all miseries will eventually turn into happiness. I just need to enjoy every single moment of my life. All the good and bad things in it. I couldn't bear myself to watch it more, but I had to finish it. It's a work that's really inspiring people to work what they want to achieve till the last breath or the last drop of their blood. Now I remember how Dale's father is so so far from being eager. I was the one who arrange some works for him. And yet he chose to give me empty promises, left me and his own son. Stupid creature, there are actually so many that he can do as multi-talented person. Shame on him for wasting all the gifts that he has

*from Sherlock). If Ben said that Hawking is one of his great work, I agree. Hawking is one of his works that touched me so deeply that me-the unsociable autistic person who can't communicate well-can talk hours about Hawking in a very enthusiastic way.

And yes, I got up at 5 am with Ben's voice as the alarm (a friend in loneliness). and yes, I have the whole idea of this writing in my head, like I always get the idea on how to solve my family's problems or how to face those grown ups people who didn't act like grown ups, or how to manipulate my father on how to successfully helping my step mom and my half younger sister. I hate myself at that time that I have to be someone else so cruel, slick, and evil just to make better place for my beloved step mom and half younger sister. Too bad they had to toss it away. Well, since they got what they want and that they don't need me anymore, I think it's worth when I had to release them and let their reputation torn apart without any little effort from me. But seriously, years of dedicating myself for them, leaving my architecture degree to work and to help them, and then after 6 years, mom only said I was useless just because I overslept because I was sick and couldn't get at the travel station on time. How could she said I should just die. and the silly me drank 2 bottles of Vodka along with 2 bottles of cough medicine at once(silly me didn't know that time that Vodka is actually reversing the poisonous effect of overdose from too much cough medicine). I still remember how I fainted. The sound of surroundings which slowly disappearing (like the sound of Bing Bang's left over-Hawking, It's funny how some people think the universe is steady. The thought of universe has a beginning and someday it'll end is already in my primary school's mind in my beloved moslem religion that everything has a beginning and eventually will end. Only Allah who has no end, has no beginning, and has no shape because He's more than the universe itself. Good moslems, are those people who think. If Sherlock says Why Can't People Just Think?! I say... it's normal for us, moslems), the heart beat that went slowly weaker. and then he came to save me. If  my ex wasn't there to help me, I believe that first effort of ending my life would be successful. But then again, look at me now, I've survived from 3 attempts of suicide, I have a son that I have to live, and carry on. Because I'm his only hope, his only parent that will be there at times no person will support him. I will be the only one left for him to continue living. I believe he has the purpose coming to this world that he had struggle so hard  to live since he was as big as 0,69 cm tall. and that I almost lost him when his heart was excited more than it had to be when I gave birth to him. The way Mozart thought, it is normal that it also happens to me in writings. How I can write more than 600 pages(recorded in blogs, facebook, 2 junkthought books-not to mention the pages unrecorded in any kind of writings including free verse, short novels, poems, photo interpretation, music lyric and many else)with ideas that I get every time I wake up. or at times I get the ideas of the whole English course programs or the marketing ideas. It's normal.

Now, Why can't  people just think?!
Let's not talk about the past that happened when I hate the times my half younger sister couldn't think that the action she did was actually hurting her mom, or that why couldn't she think that she shouldn't make quarrel with her mom in front of her father that her father would be angry and in the end would shout at her mom. Her mom was hurt and she called me, then I said why could she not think. Why could my father not think when the trouble maker was actually his own third wife who proudly thought she could raise Dale and thought I wasn't a good mother (parenting is a matter of trial and error-as long as parent thinks of anything best for her child and because she's loving her son, there's no such thing as bad mother). That this wife of my father's was giving me promises that she couldn't keep. That in the end she couldn't handle Dale by herself because she was exhausted. It's actually a reason that I can accept instead of her telling me that this was all my fault and that in the end she did "Divide Et Impera" for my big family including my grandfather. I swear if she weren't my father's wife, I would have killed her for giving me empty promises and then betrayed me with all her doings making trouble in the family. It's like having Dale's father again on my side which I deeply loathe it. No wonder they were born under the same star sign with only 2 days difference. and still there are so many things that made me think... Why Can't People just think?! Recently, my colleague in the office that my boss called him as my subordinate. A male of under dog which always doing anything in slow motion. I know I'm slow, but this creature is even slower. I always thought... Why can't people just think?! This slow subordinate, why can't you just think that you can look at the time, that there's schedule on the board, why should I am the one who always tells you about the things you have to do, why can't you just think about... arrgghhh there are so many... and why can't people just think of how my operational manager along with my boss couldn't differentiate between normal and autistic kid?! Why Can't people just think? Why can't people observe! It's obvious, moron! We can look at the way this kid interacts with people. It's in the way he answers for questions. How can you both my superior couldn't see?! They said, it was undetected. I said, it's because you simply didn't observe, moron. A quiet person is the best observer-from Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy.

I can't say that they're stupid because they are my superiors. Like Sherlock always says: Don't worry, practically everyone is.... stupid.

and because I'm thinking, it's actually why vina's junkthoughts are there. I'm not a high functioning sociopath like Sherlock who uses his brain to solve crimes and save people. But I think my brainwave is too active for only being a teacher (thanks to my 80 students from 6 different classes that I'm no longer creature of the night who live from coffee and cigarettes with midnight online games along with the Bulgarians that I have to deal with 5 hours difference. The efforts to teach all of you until 8 pm each night makes me sleep well after 4 hours watching Ben's movies) and that I have too many to think as reflections of my traumas and how I made my way to survive from those cruel things. Writing has always been a cure for me. so when Dr.Watson was told to write, I agree, writing is a cure for PTSD. It's the origin of vina's junkthoughts. Next, maybe I'll try violin. Sherlock reminds me of my one activity that I haven't got the chance to start it. Painting, writing, and acting now English are my worlds, but music is always one thing that I love the most. I always wants to play violin, small and handy to carry. Thanks, Sherlock. Now that I stand on my own feet, I can do things that I want (I remember I don't ask or go out much to waste money except for good food to help me working-again, for my family). I just haven't got the chance to touch music (wasting my talent when I suddenly play the tune of Sailor Moon or any other music on my Pianika without looking at the musical notes when I was in primary school). That my big family always separates me from music just because my living-in-London Mom was a singer and I believe she still one in the church. They said, they don't want me to end up like her. Well, I ended up like her anyway. Loving London, being teacher, accidentally had to get through horrible things. No wonder we look exactly alike. Well, if you see her walking around in London, an Asian middle aged woman with black hair and eyes, dark complexion skin walking with original Caribbean man with 2 boys who look like Tiger Wood or Barack Obama, say hi for her, from her only daughter, Vina. Tell her, she has a cute gorgeous perfect lovable grandson, Dalelucky Nugroho.        

Monday, September 1, 2014

Flirting?! Ok, Connecting?! Hmmm...

Flirting, is easy..
Connecting, is a different story for me

I don't know if my face is that playful. One thing I know for sure, cute male shopkeepers always try to make me laughing or smiling, recently until yesterday. I don't recall any shopkeeper teased other customers like what they did to me. Am I that playful or I look that easy to smile as in being friendly?! From what I've known, I always get the attention of the cute guys in schools and college. I mean it, I do look like a geek or nerd, but I can always get the attention of popular and cool guys at schools and college since I was in primary school. It's that easy, but to make it last longer... hmm... it's a problem that I've never known to solve even until now. Then it is..  flirting is always easy for me, but to get connected, hmm... can you tell me, how? No wonder I got too many exs and not one of them including Dale's father stay with me. If you give the check list of how to be a good wife, I can give the checked lists on all of the requirements (from early waking up, breakfast up to dinner served, private health consultant, housekeeping and early dawn casual sex) except for being pretty. Well, not really, being pretty and graceful is easy. I have the talent since I was born. But to make me slim and have fair skin with thick make up, sorry. I choose to be decent better than have to fake the real me. I believe beauty and sexy can be achieved from within and brain. Brainy is the new sexy, isn't it?! 

Sherlock at episode of signs of three pictured the real me. How I can't get along with crowds (no wonder I hate clubbing), and that I used to sneak up when they all having good time. I always... feeling lonely in the crowd. I'm okay with that, maybe it's just the way I am. People easily get connected with me because I always try to be friendly and full of affection. It is me who don't easily get connected. Up until know, it's still a problem though I can survive being a teacher and straight A student. Small scholarship, now I have my own price for my work, how one company would like to buy me from my previous company. I made my own way in my life. I don't have degree, but I still have credibility and being reliable. I have to carry on, for the sake of my Dale