- (Ladies and gentlemen, Miss) Grace Jones.

I thought of getting out of bed, opening the door to the balcony, and jumping off.

Worried, afraid, terrified, yet intrigued, I wanted to do it, but I didn’t want to do it. I could hear a click as I turned the key. I could feel the cold balcony railing with my hands. I could smell the faint scent of the grass below. I opened my eyes to find myself in the comfort of my bed, having been deceived by my senses. I stared at the door. Should I get out? Should I pull out the keys and swallow them?

It was not the first time this urge came to me. Once in a while it comes, with varying intensities. Sometimes it passes by, casually, like any other thought. Sometimes it stays for hours, haunting me, taunting me.

The urge to jump from high places, like many seemingly strange pathological behavior, is not uncommon. The French call it l’appel du vide, literally ‘the call of the void’. What a fascinating phrase, and how fitting! A seduction to emptiness, to nothingness, that I find so hard to resist. A temptation I try to resist in many similarly harmful situations.

I have often wondered about these destructive urges. Why do they come so often, in so many different forms? I don’t want to die, not yet, not of my own accord. I don’t feel suicidal. I don’t want to be harmed. Are they products of sheer curiosity? Simple ‘what if’ questions? But I don’t want answers, I don’t want to feel the consequences. Are they some kind of cathartic fantasy? But I don’t imagine myself feeling any relief or release. Why, then, do I fear the temptation of self-destruction?

I once pondered about Thanatos, the ‘death drive’ in Freudian thought. Is there really a primitive urge to harm oneself, to destroy, to take a step closer to death? If so, in order to survive, should one protect oneself not only against external forces but also against one’s own innate self-destructive nature?

Poe once wrote about what he named ‘the imp of the perverse’. The impulse to do the complete opposite of what is ‘right’, the temptation to do things one should not do. The desire, when standing upon the brink of a precipice, overcome with fear, to plunge and fall. “And this fall,” he wrote, “this rushing annihilation – for the very reason that it involves that one most ghastly and loathsome of all the most ghastly and loathsome images of death and suffering which have ever presented themselves to our imagination – for this very cause do we now the most vividly desire it.”

It would probably be easier and wiser to think of these urges as light symptoms of obsessive compulsive or some sort of anxiety disorder that may or may not be harmful. Accept them, dismiss them, or face them, with external help if necessary.

Sometimes I wonder though, might I give in? When the imp of the perverse on my side whispers in my ear, luring me, seducing me, might I answer the call of the void? Or would the void, the emptiness, the nothingness, remain a seductive, untouched mystery?

But I would cry out and make a fuss until I got what I wanted.
I remember well how my mother asked me why I couldn’t be a nice boy like Wilfred; but I would think to myself that Wilfred, for being so nice and quiet, often stay hungry. So early in life, I had learned that if you want something, you had better make some noise.”

- The Autobiography of Malcolm X: As Told to Alex Haley
Bought this book secondhand for only Rp 10.000 (cheapskate, I am) around two weeks ago. So far, it’s been a real page-turner, rising on top of all those unfinished books in my reading list.

So that’s what the less assertive get?
A mythical monster with multiple heads to hate?

It is futile to fear death, to even think about fearing death,
for when it comes, no mind will exist to think nor fear.

And yet, I tremble.

He said I was too clingy, too demanding as if I could never get enough of anything. (Of course I did get more than enough to make me want to erase part of my memory) Too many phone calls, texts, unwanted attention.

What, then, should I do about it? I asked, at the time. Give some space?

So, then, I did. I gave some space and filled my own with other things I loved more. Until one day he said I was too cold. Distanced, aloof, as if I didn’t need anything from him. Annoyed, I asked, “Isn’t this what you wanted?” I grew so cold, he said, that he suddenly realized how he missed how I was, how it made him felt loved.

Needless to say, it was never the same, and the relationship ended not long from then.

Guilt has always driven me to try changing how I am to make things better. Not that it works that much. Perhaps because neither I nor whoever he is really have a clue. Yet, I often can’t help trying to find a balance point of how I should be, how I should act in order to make a relationship work. At the same time, I’m not really sure that balance point exists. If it does exist somehow, I’m not sure I can or want to reach it.

Which leads me to a thought that sometimes slips off my mind. A relationship shouldn’t be spent working your way into a perfect balance of, for example, neediness and independence. Balance will come from imbalance, so to speak. Compatibility comes from those always changing imbalances. Once you can be open to criticism, once you can evaluate and adapt willingly, both of you, you’ve got nothing to worry about.

“Do you believe that there’s this one special person for you, you know, like in
How I Met Your Mother?”

A dear friend of mine asked this question today. I instantly felt a mental smirk form swiftly in my mind. The answer was clear, no pause needed. I said no. I didn’t. I don’t. I’m not sure whether I’ve ever believed in the whole concept.

The world is just too huge to provide only one (one!) or just a few so-called ‘soul mate(s)’. ‘The one and only’,  ‘meant for each other’, ‘made for each other’, those phrases make no sense to me. I believe there are plenty of people in different times and spaces that someone can be compatible with because of various factors, like chemistry, similar backgrounds, similar ideologies and of course hard work and acceptance, among others.*

For me, saying “We’ve been together for so long because we’re soul mates.” is like saying “I’m full because fate made it happen,” when in fact I’m full because I just ate two Whoppers in one sitting. We’ve been together for so long because we love each other and we make efforts to make this relationship work.

Logical fallacy or not, that’s how I see it. Sure, anyone can always argue that it’s because of fate I can eat two Whoppers. But then, why not focus on things we can actually work on?

Harsh? If you say so. Rational? You tell me.

*Interesting way in seeing interpersonal compatibility by one of my favourite lecturers here.

I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of this song. Al Green before his then-girlfriend committed suicide and, seeing the incident as a wake up call, he became a pastor in Memphis. This live performance is even better than the recording, it’s just so good I want to cry.

(Let’s stay together)

I’m, I’m so in love with you
Whatever you want to do
Is alright with me
‘Cause you make me feel, so brand new
And I want to spend my life with you

Me sayin’ since, baby, since we’ve been together
Ooo, loving you forever
Is what I need
Let me, be the one you come running to
I’ll never be untrue
Ooo baby

Let’s, let’s stay together
Loving you whether, whether
Times are good or bad, happy or sad

Oooo oooo ooo ooo, yeah
Whether times are good or bad, happy or sad

Why somebody, why people break up
Oh, and turn around and make up
I just can’t seeeeeeeee

You’d never do that to me
(Would you baby)
‘Cause being around you is all I see
It’s why I want us to

Let’s, we oughta stay together
Loving you whether, whether
Times are good or bad, happy or sad

Let’s, let’s stay together
Loving you whether, whether

- Said Adi Weda, a guest lecturer in class today, when asked about tips for being a successful photojournalist. He is an Indonesian photographer working in EPA (European Pressphoto Agency), after having worked before in AFP. Rephrased for clarity and dramatic effect.