something for myself

This is it, I never thought that I finally would write this kind of posting before. But, I have something in my mind that need to be written. It doesn’t matter whether I like it or not, I have my own reason.

So here is the problem: I’m losing my english. I have to admit this. For some of you perhaps it is not a big deal, but for me it is personally a critical matter. You see, having capability in reading, speaking, writing and listening english language is not something that could happen any second. It needs decades of development especially for me. I’m not good in communications, it is hard for me to learn codes, structures, names, nor terms of any kind of language other than what I use in daily conversation. Yet I wanted to be able to speak it, write it, and understand what it is saying.

Not so long ago, I was just speaks person who speaks like a donkey blabbering inconsequently without hoping the opponent understands what am I trying to tell. Don’t get me wrong, I did understand english at that time, I learned a lot from movie text and television, but I just couldn’t express myself correctly with the damn language. Then I invested some of my resources to dig it deep, learn it more, and acquire such ability. Not to be as fluent as our belated michael jackson, but at least I understand.

I started this blog many many moons ago, with a full confident that I don’t need to write posting in english. Why? It could sounds silly but I am more comfortable to write in Bahasa. I paid no regard to the idea that poor english is a residue of such confidence. Sometime I use english in mixtural context with bahasa, due to the fact that english may describe object more delicately. What I don’t know is this behavior consumed my capacity word by word, meaning by meaning.

I put some excuses that I still use english in my works. Composing email, compiling reports, or presenting my concepts. But later I’m getting more confident in doing all of it in bahasa first, before I translate it all in english. Something that I would not recommend to all of you, it is called ‘cheating’ in some extent. A long the way, however, I loose my grip and start to put in some interesting language in my corridor. Sunda and Suroboyoan for instance. And I’m getting more and more comfortable in this condition.

Suddenly, my fellow cubical dweller in front of me asked whether I know the english word for something silly in bahasa. And I couldnt answer. I looked for the word, what I got is just an empty attic inside the back of my head. Where are they? Where are the bloody words I stored in there? It was use to be a shiny colorful space, neat and tidy. Now it is just hollow dark place full of filthy spiderweb here and there. The harder I tried, the darker that side becomes.

And I come to this moment. Writing. Try to prove myself that I am still be able to use what ever left in my mind. I am not complaining, I try to be responsible towards what ever consequences it brought. Moaning for what ever has faded. Grieving for what ever has gone.
Gone to soon

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