Gloomy Clock: Log #1

Today, too, let’s be functional.

I would stare at the mirror and thought that. I can’t even remember when did I last wake up feeling energised, I’m already too familiar with the lethargy that has been plaguing my days from start to end. I feel tired when I wake up, I still feel tired when I’m about to go to sleep. I really had to will myself,

Let’s be functional.

Let’s try to pay attention to the surroundings during today’s commute instead of get lost in thoughts again.

And so I tried.

There really were days where I’d wake up feeling weak, hardly able to move my limbs even just half an inch. I would sigh then. And as I did, I felt this sharp pang of guilt. Ah, there I sighed again. There I go being dramatic again.

Have I ever done anything for these past few months beside piling up guilt?

Five, six months.

November? December? October?

I didn’t mean to count, but I kept looking back. Five, six months of generally feeling ever so gloomy. Five, six months of repeatedly asking myself, why am I being like this?

It’s not like I don’t have any list of people I can reach out to. I do, though? Or so I convinced myself. I do or I don’t, what difference does it make. I’d still feel cut off from the world.

See, so dramatic.

I’m exhausted. I feel guilty for even feeling exhausted at all. I feel guilty for wanting to announce to the world that I’m exhausted. I feel guilty for taking this exhaustion so personally. Everyone is exhausted after all, and I really, cognitively, am aware of this. I can acknowledge that. Everyone is exhausted. I truly, truly agree.

Look, you’re not alone!

That should make me feel better. It doesn’t. I wish just by acknowledging that alone can affect me, but it really doesn’t.

I’m mentally exhausted.

I’m physically exhausted and I’ve troubled a great deal of people for being so. Sometimes I really would feel like my body can’t keep up and that’d show on my face and people would comment, nonchalantly and innocently so,

Why do you look so tired?

Good question. Why do I look so tired? Why do have to be looking so tired most of the time?

This is where you’d see me picking up another guilt and keeping it close like it’s some sort of invaluable diamonds.

In a world where you’re only allowed to be happy, what chance do I stand?

And another.

I can’t keep up. I feel sick. I’ve been feeling sick for quite some time now. Ah, but it’s probably psychosomatic so I should not make a fuss about it. Let’s refrain from troubling yet another great deal of people. I’ll get by, I think I’ll get by eventually.

But it’s so hard to breathe. This loop that I keep going on through from time to time can get too suffocating sometimes.

Then at one point my hand got in a lot of pain for a month or two. I’ve been overusing it, apparently. You depend on your hands a lot for all sort of daily tasks, so it really crushed me when the pain got more and more persistent. All this time I could barely holding on, and now I have to endure feeling so worthless and undeserving just because I can’t use my hand like a proper human being everyone else is.

I cried for a week.

I haven’t cried for a really long while but back then whenever those thoughts resurface I ended up crying.

I can’t keep up.

I’m exhausted.

I should’ve learned to stop piling up guilt by now but I still do anyway.

If I’m exhausted then whatever let’s just be exhausted whenever! So I told myself. And didn’t feel anything, let alone feeling any better.

Let’s stop indulging in self-pity and self-loathing!

That’s true. That’s actually reasonable. I wish I have any energy left to actually care.

It’s okay to feel anything or nothing at all! You’re valid the way you are, you were, you will be!

I wish I have any energy left to feel even just slightly moved.

I’m tired. Whatever.

I keep piling up guilt. Whatever.

Let’s just be functional. I’m already so undeserving, the least I can do is to try to be functional for the rest of the day.

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Gloomy Clock: Log #0

I have avoided doing this—or tried to avoid, at least. It really is not recommended, is it? To share your thoughts, to reveal even just glimpses of beyond the surface of your persona right on the internet. People will see, all sort of people. People I interact with on daily basis, people I haven’t met for a long time, people I have no idea of knowing that they exist somewhere. It’s quite unsettling. And so I always ended up wiping out all records of my previous blogs. The ones where I was so carefree about the things I wrote.

And yet here I am, going on a loop.

I’m getting older. The thing about getting older that I just come to realise is that apparently it makes me become more sensitive, too. I wish I was joking but really I’m not as stern as I used to be. The things I could just brush aside in the past now tear me way too easily.

And you get to be on your own a lot of the time. As gloomy as I was, back at school I could still manage to keep myself in check from time to time, thanks to having classes I had to attend every day and mindlessly tagging along a few people after class (I feel sorry for these people). And so I pulled through, somehow. Fast forward to the me now who out of the blue would cry on her way home.

For the most part, I really have changed, don’t I.

I used to be angry and carefree.

I used to be able to write whatever and only shrugged at the possibilities of someone from school might read it. It’s not like I was in a better mental state back then but at least I didn’t ponder much before writing anything. But as time goes by, as I get older, I started to self-censor a lot. I started to sabotage myself. I started to just take mental notes and not actually write it anywhere. For someone who doesn’t go out often, this, apparently, turns out to be a terrible move.

I used to be so angry and carefree. It’s not exactly a positive emotion, but at least being able to get angry shows that I still have that drive. Now I’m just empty.

I think I’m paying the price for suppressing too much. Graduating and thus having too much time being on my own probably took a toll on me.

It has come to a point where sometimes I would forget how I look like. I’d be in the toilet and when I was about to wash my hands, I’d be caught off guard by my own reflection in the mirror. Oh, so this is how I look like.

It has come to a point where I’m more uneasy by the thought of writing in my journal, instead of here. It’s funny, because I did still write everything in my journal up until two years ago, as in actually recounting stuffs in appropriate details. After that I just started to write vague PC-ish barely informational pointers of short sentences. Look where I end up now.

It has come to a point where, instead of calming down my thoughts, writing in my journal has become more of an attempt to self-destruct.

I had no idea this is how far I’ve strayed away. So far that when I try to sit down and try to process everything by writing it down I ended up feeling defeated instead. Having to gulp down the awful stench of inadequacy wreck me. Forcing myself to admit to the thoughts I had, to actually write it down, it really seems like an attempt to self-destruct after all.

I’m a lost cause, I wrote once. And thought countless times.

I genuinely think so.

You’d say then, reach out. I agree, but that’s easier said than done. It’s not even a matter of who, but more of a how. I despise texting as a way to communicate, but even when I’m already on a face-to-face conversation, I still find it difficult to answer “How’s life?” with “I’m really having a hard time.” Sometimes I’d feel like I’m living like a corpse that I couldn’t speak at all, other times it’s because I don’t think anyone is made to contain that sort of gloominess. No one would want to empathise with negativity, that’s why they made psychologist a profession.

Get help, you’d say later. And then I’ll answer with a faint smile, as if there’s anything that can be helpful.

You’d frown any time now.

I’m a lost cause, I wrote once.

I think so.

And so it really feels pointless to ask for any help. I don’t exactly need help, I just need an outlet. I’ve sabotaged myself from one then, so now I think I should rebuild another. Or rather, reopen. I should let myself be vulnerable and let the whole world feast on it for good. I should allow myself be seen.

This’ll ruin me, but it’s not like it’ll be the first time I feel destroyed.


PS. Yes, the title is basically a rip-off from this song.

“You Did Well.”

I posted this as a post-birthday obligatory post:

Relatable

It was a scan from the photobook of his latest album. Someone translated the Korean words and I thought, “How relatable.”

I’ve also been having this sitting on as draft since March:

Draft

A list of my favourite artists (can’t believe I really forgot to add Utada Hikaru). I remember wanting to hype these people on my blog just because I love their music so much and I want the whole world to know.

You see, I take music very seriously.

Even before I know it, I have turned into an intense listener when it comes to music. It’s always been all-or-nothing. Either I make time to listen to the whole discography or just don’t bother at all. It’s probably why I never really paid attention to my Discover Weekly playlist back when I still used Spotify. It’s also probably why I only listen to very few artists and have very poor variety on my library.

And it’s why it’s always special when I find someone I can hail as my new favourite artist. Because I don’t really try to look for them anyway.

I probably only started to listen to his works around earlier this year, or really later last year. Just not long after I first got to know SHINee, which was probably around November last year. Even so, it didn’t take long for me to listen to all of his works, and I already loved what I heard back then. His musical comfort zone is the usual genre I always welcome with open arms, and to add to that his voice fits perfectly. I’ve never been a lyric person to begin with, but sometimes when I was feeling curious I would look up the translation of his lyrics, and found myself impressed most of the time. It wasn’t so difficult, loving his works.

“Ah, after what seemed like an eternity, I finally have a new favourite artist to add to the ever-so-brief list.”

Hence the rough draft.

When Story Op.2 was released last April and I listened to Let Me Out for the first time, I thought to myself, “Really there’s no way I’m not letting the whole world know about his music.”

(I still didn’t work on that draft, though. I felt too guilty to work on it instead of finishing the one I had been working on for far too long.)

Let’s say I’m a gloomy person. Whenever I find music that speak to me, that I can connect to in a very personal level, I’ll worship the artist who allowed that music to exist in the first place. Let Me Out is that music for me, and Jonghyun is that artist. I remember the first time I listened to Let Me Out, I was really taken aback when the chorus hit. It was abrupt and somewhat disturbing on some level. There were hints of desperation all over it. It was so raw and intense, it really stood out from the rest of the tracks in the album. When I looked up the lyric, you might as well say my brain got short-circuited due to the abundance of shock.

You know you’ll most likely be in shock when something, figuratively, touches you too deep, way more than what you expect them to.

That’s just how personal his music can be.

And it’s exactly why I treasure him as an artist so much. An artist whose sensibility I really admire and look up to.

An artist who, even as a person, didn’t hide his emotions and was always so honest and open with it. An artist who has clear vision of what music he wants to pursue (which is also the kind of music I love). An artist who, like me, prefers smaller venue concerts because it yields more intimacy and interaction between the artist and the fans. An artist who’s also a poet. An artist I won’t hesitate to brag and gush about. An artist that also inspired me to wanting to create art that can touch someone too.

The only artist within K-Pop realm whose concert I want to attend.

I really look up to him so much. I think I’m so attached because I see him as the ideal figure I want to be.

So that is why, a week after his suicide, I’m still devastated.

It was hard. The news was such a big shock that left me feeling suffocated. Even when I tried to take a deep breath I still felt so suffocated. It was really hard, and still is. Never had I imagined losing your favourite artist, losing someone whose works has helped you to reconnect to yourself for numerous times, would hit you this awful.

And reading his final letter was even more heartbreaking, as if my heart hasn’t broken to pieces already. It’s not because I felt pity. Rather, it’s because there are some lines, some part, that didn’t even take a second for me to comprehend.

And it’s just what makes it so heartbreaking, to have even just the slightest idea how he endured so much for so long.

 

Jonghyun, you did well.

You really did.

And because I adore you so much, I’ll grieve.

Depresi dsb.

Selamat datang di [Tulisan? Racauan? Bualan?] saya mengenai depresi. Harap diperhatikan bahwa saya bukan profesional yang bergerak di bidang kesehatan mental dan segala hal yang saya utarakan di sini hanyalah opini (yang tentu saja hanya valid buat saya sendiri saja), sebagian besar berlandaskan pengalaman pribadi dan secuil pengetahuan yang saya dapat pas kuliah psikologi saya (yang nggak guna itu).

Kalo ada satu hal tentang depresi yang saya ingin semua orang di dunia ini tahu, saya cuma pengen bilang: “Really, chances are you don’t understand.”

Percayalah. Kalau kalian nggak pernah merasa depresi, jangan kelabui diri kalian sendiri seolah-olah kalian paham. Depresi itu satu dari segelintir hal di dunia yang sulit dipahami kalau nggak pernah ngalamin sendiri. Kurang-lebih sama sulitnya kayak pengalaman diperkosa. Dan kalaupun kalian pernah merasa depresi, jangan repot-repot menganggap apa yang kalian alami dan yang orang-lain-yang-juga-depresi alami sudah pasti sama. Kalian dua orang berbeda dengan pengalaman hidup yang juga berbeda, jadi manifestasi depresi di kalian seenggaknya ada-lah beda-beda dikit, belum lagi persepsi kalian soal pengalaman depresi kalian.

Jadi ya, nggak usah belagak sok peka gitulah soal depresi. At the end of the day toh nggak ada manusia yang bener-bener bisa memahami orang lain, mau sesensitif, seempatik, dan sejago apapun skill perspective-taking kalian. Muda desu, muda (T/N: in Japanese ‘muda’ means ‘futile’). Kalo nggak paham bilang aja kalo nggak paham, nggak ada yang nyuruh buat paham juga.

(Except those depression awareness folks. But I ignore them all the time as they’re too shady. Ketimbang orang-orang yang suka nyeletuk ‘gue juga pernah kali’, saya lebih terganggu sama barudak depression awareness ini yang selalu antusias untuk konsisten mengingatkan ‘you are not alone’ semata-mata biar pada nggak bunuh diri. Halah.)

Itu yang pertama.

Kedua, dan ini saya peruntukkan baik untuk orang yang depresi maupun orang yang punya orang yang depresi di sekitarnya, udahlah nggak usah sok pengen menyelamatkan orang dari depresi. Muda desu, muda (2).

Depresi itu bukan penyakit yang penderitanya bisa dinyatakan sembuh 100%. You sort of live with it, to say the least. Kalau kalian pernah depresi dan sekarang lagi fungsional, it’s almost certain that another episode is waiting for you somewhere, if the variables (yang saya tidak terlalu peduli buat nyari tau apa persisnya) match. Itu satu.

Dua: Apapun yang berusaha kalian omongin ke orang yang depresi, percayalah gak bakal ada yang masuk.

Orang yang depresi ini ya, kasarnya, sekian fungsi kognitifnya ‘keblokir’. Kognitif keblokir ini bikin sekian task yang (harusnya) sederhana jadi berat banget buat diproses otak. Semua jadi serba terbatas, atensi juga.

Yang tadinya selain mikirin diri sendiri masih bisa mikirin dan peduli orang-orang di sekitar dan mungkin berbagai masalah penting dunia, jadi cuma sanggup mikirin diri sendiri. Yang tadinya masih bisa ngeproyeksi berbagai hal di masa depan (sesederhana mikirin besok makan di mana, pake baju apa, dsb.), jadi mentok cuma bisa mikirin ‘sekarang’. Dan ‘sekarang’ yang saya maksud ini beneran ‘momen pada saat itu’, kayak stuck ama pikiran sendiri. Ngeproyeksiin apa yang bakal kejadian atau diinginkan terjadi untuk beberapa jam atau menit ke depan aja udah berat (saya suka becandain nggak ada orang yang lebih in-the-moment dari orang depresi).

Hal-hal trivial sehari-hari gitu yang biasanya nyembul di benak dengan gampangnya jadi berasa jauh tak terjangkau; mendadak pikiran macam ‘duh kepengen makan nasi padang’ atau kepengen apapun itu menjelma jadi konsep yang alien banget. Apalagi soal keberadaan orang-orang sekitar, blas mendadak irelevan semua. (Dan misteri kenapa orang depresi biasanya bakal menarik diri akhirnya terpecahkan wow).

Seterbatas dan sebuntu itu. Dan kognitif keblokir kayak gini belum tentu bisa menyeluruh dibantu dengan antidepresan juga. (Don’t take my words for it, tho. Aku cuma googling sekilas lol.)

Ini juga kenapa saran-saran dan berbagai macam hal yang keluar dari mulut orang-orang yang nggak depresi bakal kedengeran kayak ‘dongeng’ buat orang yang depresi. Kayak kalau kalian ngingetin orang depresi kalau dia masih punya keluarga/significant other/dsb, atau ngingetin kalau dia ‘didukung dan disayang banyak orang lho’, atau ngingetin bahwa ‘masih banyak lho hal menyenangkan di dunia ini yang bisa dinikmati’. Hal-hal sok-positif kayak gitu, berani taruhan, bakalan mental sendiri di orang yang depresi. Nggak bakal nyampe, serius, bener-bener udah di luar jangkauan. Keblokir dengan sendirinya.

Makanya kan tadi saya bilang: “Muda desu, muda.” (3)

As bleak as it may sound, no one can save anyone from depression. Apa itu supportive environment (yang suka didengung-dengungkan orang-orang nganu itu)? Depression will never end at “supportive environment”. Heck, it doesn’t even end at all, just another episode coming and going.

Ya bisa sih disuruh menjalani psikoterapi dan lain sebagainya (“biar ‘sembuh’ gitu lho”), tapi toh nggak ada yang namanya 100% success rate di psikoterapi-psikoterapi buat depresi ini. Jadi kalau kalian depresi dan memutuskan untuk mencoba psikoterapi semata-mata dengan harapan BISA SEMBUH SELAMANYA,

“Muda desu, muda.” (4)

Kesannya saya kayak berusaha memboikot kerjaan para psikolog ini ya. Padahal nggak gitu, kalo emang suka sensasi dapet ilham di tiap sesi terapi ya udah sok sana bikin jadwal. Maksud saya ini cuma pengen bilang nggak usah terlalu ngotot berontak pengen bebas dari depresi. Menderita ya menderita aja. “Oh, kamu depresi? Terima saja yes. It’s basically a part of your life now.”

Terkesan pasrahan, barangkali. Disheartening, even. Terdengar sangat dingin dan tidak empatik juga, mungkin (yah, apa sih yang kalian harapkan dari orang kayak saya). Tapi buat saya ini malah paling masuk akal dan comforting dibanding cara-cara lain, by allowing depression to happen instead of being repulsed, resisting and running away from it, or seeking explanation, even (iya, saya nggak terlalu ngefans sama pendekatan yang berusaha nyari penjelasan/justifikasi kenapa saya depresi).

Nggak usah repot-repot, terima ajalah. Yah, speaking from first-hand experience, cara begini emang nggak serta-merta membuat saya merasa lebih baik, pas kejadian ya tetep aja depresi dan merasa miserable. Cuma saya jadi nggak terlalu merasa tersiksa hanya karena saya merasa miserable. Menariknya saya malah jadi mengobservasi saya yang depresi, if that even makes sense. I observed every passing suicidal thoughts. I observed how I repeatedly told myself that I want to disappear. And it’s not like I put any meaning to any of it, no. Just plainly watch myself going to pieces.

And I gotta say, weird as it may sound, it’s a lot better than having to feel beaten up every time another episode is coming. Still miserable, but better.

So, yeah. I wish people would stop saying “Fight depression!”.

Just give depression a room to breathe and let it rise and fall on its own, people. There’s no need to resist so stubbornly. Nggak perlu menakuti/menghindari depresi segitunya lah. It just is.

“Terus gimana dengan orang-orang yang memutuskan untuk mati karena depresi?” Biar.

Biar.

Nothing you can do about it anyway. Muda desu, muda (5).

“Tapi kasian dong orang tuanya, pasangannya, anak-anaknya, temen-temennya???”

Yeah, life sucks. Is that news to you?

Circa November 2014

Yang membuatnya terasa getir adalah betapa jari saya tidak dapat menangkap umpan-umpan terliar yang dilempar benak saya. Miss, miss, miss. Semuanya terlewat begitu saja tanpa satu bisa ditangkap. Yang membuatnya membendung, membumbung begitu tinggi adalah betapa ketika saya terbaring pikiran saya sama sekali rileks, tanpa siaga. Kenangan dipanggil, memori digali. Batin resah dipenuhi terlalu banyak hal yang tidak bisa saya kenali itu apa. Manifestasi-manifestasi abstrak yang kusut masai, meraung-raung minta diperhatikan tapi tidak mengizinkan wujudnya dibuat konkret. Kusut, kusut, kusut. Mencar sana-sini, bertabrakan, melilit satu sama lain, mencekik. Semuanya bergerak terlalu leluasa. Saya tak tahan, maka secara naluriah saya beranjak. Menuju pensil, menuju kertas, menuju keyboard. Saya ingin merasionalisasi apa yang sedang terjadi. Saya ingin menenangkan diri dan berpikir, merunut satu per satu kekacauan. Saya ingin punya kendali.

Lalu semuanya berhenti. Lenyap begitu saja.

Sesaat ketika jari saya bergerak, semuanya terblokir. Blokir, blokir, blokir. Umpan terlewat tanpa sempat saya jadikan kalimat. Miss, miss, miss. Bergeming seperti dungu, melongo seperti tolol. Menunggu umpan dilempar lagi, mencoba memancing yang telah lenyap dengan merangkai frasa-frasa yang tidak bisa saya satukan menjadi kalimat utuh. Dungu. Tolol. Seketika saya mencoba mengurai pikiran yang sebegitu kusutnya, seketika itu pula saya menghalangi saya. Tanya, apa yang membuat hidup menjadi terasa lebih rumit berat? Jawab, main anjing-kucing dengan diri sendiri.

Tak ada yang lebih membuat frustrasi ketimbang mendapati diri sendiri menghalang-halangi usaha sendiri untuk menggapai makna, mencari pengertian, pembenaran, apa pun yang bukan simbol dan abstrak. Apa pun yang dapat dimengerti. Anything that makes sense. Anything that fits the missing piece of the puzzle, if there’s a puzzle at all. Anything that doesn’t fire off jumbled nonsensical mix of words all piled up on a paragraph that is not even a paragraph to begin with because it doesn’t make sense. Hanya ketika saya tidak berusaha untuk berusaha, segalanya menari-nari di depan saya. Berkelebatan dalam rentetan citra yang ditembakkan secara serentak, sulit diproses namun masih bisa diproses, sulit dipahami namun saya mengerti dalam sesaat. Sesaat. Kemudian buyar, berhamburan jadi keping-keping tak terjamah. Meluncur kabur sebelum sempat digenggam.

Saya mencoba memetakan diri sendiri.

Saya melindungi diri saya dari usaha saya untuk memetakan diri saya sendiri.

Tak ada lagi yang lebih membuat gila ketimbang menyadari segala kecam mental yang saya lakukan pada diri sendiri agar saya bungkam. Don’t exaggerate, you’re not the only one who’s struggling. Not that big of a deal. Stop making excuses. Don’t be so big-headed. Stop making excuses. Everyone is struggling. Stop making excuses. This too will pass, no need to drag anyone, no need to write it down anywhere. Stop making excuses. Can’t bear the anxiety of being vulnerable? Stop making excuses, the world doesn’t have place for the weak. 

You’re not the only one who’s struggling. Stop making excuses.

Yang membuatnya terasa getir adalah betapa segalanya membuat saya terus-terusan, tidak berhenti mendorong orang-orang keluar ketika saya sudah merasa amat kebas dengan benak sendiri. Memutus kontak ketika itu seharusnya hal yang paling menolong saya untuk tetap merasa waras. Sengaja memicu retak, sengaja menoreh luka, sengaja mengundang berang, sakit, dendam.

What makes it lethal is that I don’t even try to stop myself from doing it, I just stand there, watching myself deliberately doing harm.

I can’t make sense of myself. I can’t make sense of why I keep doing things, of why I stop myself from doing things.

Mana yang Musik, Mana yang Bukan

TL;DR: Emang masalah selera aja. #pft


Sejak melek K-Pop, saya jadi lebih in-tune sama perkembangan musik mainstream saat ini. K-Pop kan kiblatnya Western abis gitu. Dan karenanya, saya jadi semakin sadar betapa musik mainstream saat ini lebih sering bikin saya frustrasi ketimbang bikin saya obsesi.

Anggaplah saya ini purist. Musik beneran buat saya adalah yang pake instrumen beneran. Instrumen beneran buat saya adalah instrumen yang butuh skill manusia. Dan yang paling penting, musik beneran buat saya adalah musik yang mampu memancing emosi-emosi termentah manusia.

Sebagai purist, saya skeptis banget sama suara elektronik. Hit and miss banget buat saya, dan berdasarkan pengalaman saya lebih banyak miss-nya ketimbang hit-nya. Bahkan kalau mau blak-blakan dan sok dramatis, saya benci banget suara elektronik, saya benci musik hasil bikinan software doang. Dalam semangat sok dramatis yang konsisten, saya juga mau bilang saya benci suara instrumen-instrumen palsu, terutama synth brass. Gila benci banget saya dengernya.

Ya dramatisnya gitu sih. Tapi gapapa, sebagai orang dewasa berpendidikan, saya masih bisa kompromi kok sama suara-suara elektronik ini. Selama komposisi secara keseluruhannya masih terdengar kayak musik di telinga saya, saya oke aja dengerin berulang kali ampe bosen. It’d be stupid to dismiss it completely. Gila aja, bisa-bisa saya kehilangan musik asik kayak gini:

Kan sayang. Meski cukup langka, ada kok musik yang direksinya emang sengaja dibikin elektronik kayak gitu dan tetap terdengar oke di telinga saya.

Cuma ya itu. Ada, tapi cukup langka.

Sialnya, yang lebih sering ngetren dan ngehip abis di masyarakat adalah suara elektronik yang kayak gini:

Saya masukin lagu ini sebagai contoh bukannya saya mau bilang lagu ini populer, poin saya adalah lagu kayak gini yang populer. Dan ini udah dari tahun entah kapan ya, sejak saya masih kuliah pun, musik-musik yang intens bersirkulasi di masyarakat tuh selalu aja jenisnya yang kayak begini semua. Seenggaknya kalo saya ke tempat umum di mana kawula muda bergerombol, yang diputer di speaker selalu musik beginian.

Dan saya udah kadung muak banget ama musik beginian.

Pertama karena keelektronikannya, dan udah gitu suara elektroniknya bukan jenis yang bisa dengan mudah telinga saya terima. Tipe-tipe musik klub yang nyaris selalu HARUS didengarkan dalam volume maksimal. Biar apa? Ya biar kedengeran!!! There’s always that bass beat thing going on there right? And it almost always comes in the form of sound that you want to blast around your ear. Dan ini yang bikin saya keki banget, musik beginian nggak sehat dan nggak bakalan pernah sehat buat telinga saya. It’s somewhat inducing in the most negative way. Apa ya, musik-musik mabok.

(Ya emang musik-musik mabok sih)

Kedua, alih-alih unjuk melodi, highlight dari musik beginian nyaris selalu ada di “beat drop”. Bodo amat jadinya mau seklise apa pun, pokoknya mesti ada “beat drop”. Sekitar 1:26 kalo di video tadi. Dan ini yang bikin saya mau nangis, soalnya ya, “beat drop” ini, mau dikreasiin dalam berbagai cara pun, hasilnya bakalan tetap terdengar gitu-gitu aja.

Masih dalam topik yang sama, musik beginian nyaris selalu miskin melodi. Melodi aja miskin apalagi harmoni. Paling melodinya cuma ada di vokal doang, itu pun kalo ada. Sisanya berat di ritme/beat. Dan, duh, ayolah, ada berapa macam variasi ritme/beat sih di luar sana? Pembedanya paling di jenis “instrumen”, tapi polanya ya… bisa sevariatif apa sih? Ujung-ujungnya gitu lagi. Kayak, selalu ada entah apa itu yang kedengeran kayak snare berentet seperdelapan, trus seperenambelas bentar sebelum the goddamn beat drops. There’s almost always that particular sound. It’s just so blatantly uninspiring it drives me up the wall every time I hear it.

Biasanya saya nggak terlalu merhatiin detail ritmis begini. Saya biasanya merhatiin melodi aja, tapi karena di musik beginian nggak ada lagi melodi yang bisa dihayatin selain vokal, ya mau nggak mau kan secara tidak sadar saya perhatiin juga. Dan pas saya ngeh apa yang saya denger, pas saya ngeh apa yang bikin saya tau-tau kesel pas dengerin musik beginian, saya malah makin kesel sendiri. Belum lagi ngomongin gimana tiap dengerin musik beginian saya selalu berasa kayak ini yang bikin pada masukin apa aja sampel beat yang bisa dimasukin saking kering melodinya itu musik. It’s frigging all over the place. Argh aduh gila saya muak banget ampe mau nangis.

Ini bias pribadi, tapi buat saya melodi/harmoni itu udah kayak karakteristik mutlaknya musik. Kasarnya, bukan musik kalo nggak ada melodi. Saya nggak bisa tertarik kalo instrumennya nggak ada pitch. Makanya saya nggak suka suara perkusi kayak drum tapi oke aja sama marimba. Saya kalo dengerin lagu apa pun, selain dengerin vokalnya biasanya saya juga nyari part tertentu yang jalan sayup-sayup di belakang. Dari sini saya jadi ngeh-in banyak hal: Oh bass-nya kayak gini, kok asik; Eh ini suara apaan di belakang; Argh the chord!!!; Is this trumpet real? Oh it’s real trumpet! I’m glad it’s real, not synth. Penemuan-penemuan kecil kayak gitu yang bikin dengerin musik itu aktivitas yang saya muliakan banget.

Terus suara-suara elektronik yang dipake di musik beginian karena basisnya sample jadinya malah bikin musik beginian secara keseluruhan jadi terdengar dangkal. Haha, kedalaman macam apa sih yang bisa ditawarkan berbagai macam beat itu. Nggak banyak bisa dimain-mainin juga. Gini, kalo piano kan bisa diapa-apain, mau dibikin kedengeran surem, damai, atau euphoric bisa. Kemungkinannya banyak banget. Now try to take your beats and electronic noises and figure out the kind of sounds they can offer. Mau diapain dan digimanain pun, suara-suara elektronik ini gak bakal bisa seluwes dan sedalem itu sampai kapanpun. Kenapa ini penting?? Because I need my music to be able to elicit the rawest emotions!!! Dan emosi saya, kasarnya, nggak bisa dateng dari beat drop.

Jadi ngedengerin gimana komposisi musik beginian melucuti nyaris semua melodi dan cuma nyisain vokal, making it consists of almost only superficial beats and rhythms itu kayak, wah, oh my good gracious gods what the hell do you think you’re doing. Iya saya emang suka track-track minimal, tapi yang biasanya saya suka tetep yang masih berasa ada melodinya sayup-sayup jalan di belakang, bukan yang macam musik beginian.

Demi tuhan, meski sama-sama elektronik dan pada dasarnya saya ga suka suara elektronik, saya lebih rela kalau musik macam Hotline Bling yang ngetren. Se-nggak sregnya saya ama hip-hop dan rap, seenggaknya ini masih terdaftar sebagai musik di telinga saya.

But nooo, it doesn’t.

I keep hearing those generic garbage people call EDM that always have that beat drop part in, every damn time.