Still Trying Anyway

Stray cats and dogs walk around without any clear destination, just roaming through the streets, and I can’t help but feel sorry for them. They look so innocent, so detached from the weight of the world, and sometimes I envy that kind of freedom. Unlike them, I feel like I’m always carrying something heavy. I enjoy helping people, it gives me a sense of purpose, but lately it feels less like a choice and more like a duty. Even right now when I sit here alone writing this, I realize how often I keep apologizing in my head, saying sorry for not being enough, sorry for not doing better, sorry for everything. I wonder when there will be someone who actually carries me the way I try to carry others.

Today alone, so many people have said thank you to me. On the outside, it sounds nice and I smile, but deep inside I sometimes feel like a piece of shit. I know my own flaws, I know the mistakes I’ve made, and the darker side of me that most people will never see. So when people thank me, I keep asking myself whether I really deserve it. Are they thanking the real me, or just the version of me that shows up to help? Maybe they only see the good moments, the surface, while I’m still haunted by all the parts of myself I try to hide.

In Islam we’re told the best people are those who are useful to others. People call me generous, a helper, and sometimes I wear that label like armor. But the truth is I don’t feel like a good person all the time. I’ve done things I’m not proud of. I have a dark side that I try to keep to myself. Still, I keep trying, because maybe trying is all I can do right now.

I keep wondering if people would still say "thank you" if they saw me in full, with all my sins, regrets, and selfishness. And that thought makes their gratitude feel both comforting and strange at the same time. It’s like collecting coins that don’t really belong to me, but I take them anyway because I don’t know what else to do. So I keep giving, I keep apologizing, I keep pretending like it’s enough. But deep down, I don’t know. Maybe I’m just waiting. Waiting for someone to say it’s okay to stop, that even with all of my flaws, I can still be worthy. Or maybe I’m waiting to see if that moment will ever come at all.

My friends say I’m okay, that I shouldn’t worry so mucj. I’ve thrown these thoughts away again and again, but somehow they always return. So I write because it's how I can make sense of what I can't say out loud.

Let me be clear, I'm not depressed, Life is beautiful, yes, but it can also be strange in ways I can’t explain. Maybe I’m only tired and maybe everyone else is too.

Good night everybody.

What Happened to Iryna Zarutska Still Haunts Me

 

What's going on in America nowadays? Every time I read the news or scroll through social media, it feels like there's always some new tragedy. The tragedies aren't even just tragic, they're shocking, brutal, and senseless. America doesn't always feel like the land of opportunity it's sold to be. At times, outside, it is actually a living simulation, almost like a GTA game where anarchy spills over onto the streets and mayhem can erupt anywhere. One of the stories that actually lingered with me for the past few days was the heart-wrenching sad tale of a young Ukrainian woman named Iryna Zarutska.

Who She Was Before the Headlines?

Iryna was not a celebrity. She was not rich. She was not famous in her lifetime until it abruptly ended the night before. She was a young woman who had already seen war, who had seen things that no one at her age should ever be made to see, and who immigrated to America with her family just to survive. Her family helped her raise money on GoFundMe to escape Ukraine and start anew in the United States. Neighbors described her as kind and gentle, someone who loved animals, someone you’d be happy to live next door to. She studied at community college, worked shifts at a pizzeria, and did everything she could to support her family. Life wasn’t glamorous, but it was hopeful. And that hope made everything worth it.

The Train Ride That Changed Everything

On the night it all happened, Iryna had just finished her shift. She boarded the light rail train in her pizzeria uniform, probably tired but happy her shift ended. She took a seat, maybe thinking about her loved ones, maybe dreaming about tomorrow, maybe just zoning out like we all do on the way home. Sitting behind her was a african-american male who was wearing an orange hoodie. Everything seems normal, but then, in a moment, everything changed. He got up, pulled out a pocket knife, and stabbed her in the neck. No argument. No words said. Just like that, savage violence that cut short her life before she even knew what was happening. She collapsed, and soon police confirmed that she had died. A life that had held so much hope was lost in the blink of an eye, not on a warzone battlefield in Ukraine, but on a train in America.

The Man in the Hoodie

His name was Decarlos Brown, and his past was a major red flag, he's been arrested 14 times. He had been arrested for such crimes as robbery and assault. He had schizophrenia, and he would follow delusions, explaining to everyone that there were voices in his head that were forcing him to do things. Even his family members admitted that he was not stable and would be dangerous sometimes. A couple of days before the tragedy, he talked to his mother about if he could spend one night at her house before he was sent to a homeless shelter. She agreed, because whatever he had done, he was still her son. She even told him she loved him. That moment makes the story even harder to swallow, because it shows how love, mental illness, and responsibility can meet in the most heartbreaking ways.

Watching the footage, you can see Brown clearly agitated that evening. He shakes his head, nods, like he’s lost in his own world. meanwhile, Iryna is completely unaware, just sitting there, finishing her ride home. Later, according to his sister, he attacked her because he thought she was reading his mind. It sounds unbelievable, but watching him on that video, it’s easy to see how he was trapped in his own delusions.

A System That Keeps Failing

What makes this story all the more unbearable is how it might have been preventable. 14 arrests. Multiple red flags. Diagnoses. Relatives sounding the alarm. And the system still managed to let him slip through every gap until he could ride the same train as Iryna, be able to carry a knife, be able to destroy all things that her family had fought so hard to maintain. It is betrayal, not just of her, but of the promise of safety America makes to everyone who comes to her shores with hopes of a better life. She left behind bombs and war only to be killed on a train.

The Anger and the Aftermath

When the news broke, people were furious. Some blamed the courts for letting him go. Others cursed the broken mental health system. Politicians weighed in, including President Trump calling for the death penalty. But the outrage didn’t stop there. Some people even blamed Brown’s actions on his race, making comments like Black people are violent or that African Americans have higher crime rates, which only fueled anger and heated debates online. The scene on the train was chilling. Iryna was the only white person visible in the footage, and everyone else around her was Black. Even as she was attacked, nobody stepped in. No screams, no shouts, no attempt to stop it, just silence as her life slipped away. None of this can ever matter to her family. None of it can ever fill the emptiness she left behind. Justice may punish Brown, but it can’t bring Iryna back, and it can’t erase the fear she felt, alone and defenseless in those final moments.

Why This Stays With Me

I think what keeps me coming back to this story is because how preventable this tragedy was. You could do everything right such as work hard, be nice, follow the rules, and still be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Iryna did not know Brown. She was not provoking him. She didn't deserve any of it. Her murder was not an accident, t think it was a sign of a broken system that was looking away from too many red flags. And when I think about it, I wonder how many more people like Brown are there, untreated, neglected, waiting to rupture in ways that can destroy innocent lives?

Remembering Iryna

Iryna’s name should not be just another headline or a political footnote. She was a daughter, a sister, a student, a kind neighbor, a young woman brave enough to start over in a new country. She deserved more than the life taken from her. The least we can do is honor her memory, not just to mourn, but to do better, to protect those like her before it’s too late.

Headache and a street vendor Who Ruined My Day

I woke up this morning feeling awful. My head was pounding so hard I could barely open my eyes, and all I wanted was to stay in bed and forget the world existed. But of course, reality doesn’t work that way. At 9 AM, I had an online class, and by 2 PM, I had to be on campus for a Student Council meeting. As the secretary of the event committee, I was responsible for keeping things on track. So I pushed myself through the day, dragging my body along with that awful headache.

When the meeting finally ended around 4 PM, I was done. My body was tired, my head still spinning, and then my stomach reminded me that I hadn’t eaten anything. Not a single proper meal. I stopped by a minimarket, grabbed some medicine, bread, and milk, and started walking home. On the way, I ate the bread and drank the milk, just trying to keep myself alive. When I was done, I held onto the empty wrappers. I thought, “I’ll throw this away once I find a trash bin.” Simple, right? But apparently, even that small thing is too much for some people.

Near Azra Hospital Bogor, I spotted a street vendor with a cart. He had a trash bag hanging there, so I walked up and asked politely if I could throw my wrappers in. What he said next completely ruined my mood. With the most casual smile, he pointed to the drainage canal next to him and said, “Just throw it in the water. We all do it here.”

I swear, I felt my blood pressure skyrocket. Without even thinking, I snapped back, “You can't just do that, You'll destroy the environment! What’s wrong with you?” I wasn’t only just annoyed but I was disgusted too. He had his own trash bag, right there, yet he told me to dump it into the canal. That kind of carelessness makes me sick.

I'm so damn sure people like him will be the first to complain when floods happen. They’ll blame the government, they’ll act like victims, they’ll cry about how unfair life is. But let’s be real, how can you scream about being neglected when you’re literally choking your own city with trash? You want sympathy? Earn it. Respect the environment you live in.

I suddenly remembered Pak Ahok, back when he was the governor of Jakarta, clearing vendors off the sidewalks. People hated him for it, called him cruel, heartless. But today, I get it. Sidewalks are for walking, not for stalls, not for garbage. Sometimes tough love is the only way to wake people up from their ignorance.

The truth is, this isn’t just about one vendor, one canal, or even one city. It’s about the mindset we’ve allowed to grow. The idea that “a little trash doesn’t matter”, that’s a freaking poison. That’s the reason our rivers stink, our streets flood, and our kids grow up thinking this is normal. It’s not normal. It’s pathetic. I don’t care if you only finished elementary school or you have ten degrees on the wall, you don’t need education to know that throwing trash into the water is wrong. In this case, what we lack isn’t intelligence. It’s awareness. It’s empathy. It’s basic common sense. And the worst part is, if we keep treating this planet like a trash can, it’s not just “the environment” that will suffer, it’s all of us.

So yeah, today started with a headache. But by the end of the day, I realized the bigger headache isn’t the one pounding in my skull, it’s the one caused by people who still don’t give a damn about the world we live in.

The Conjuring: Last Rites (2025) - Movie Review

 

Watched at Vivo Mall Sentul – 20.00 WIB

They say this is going to be the last Conjuring movie, and honestly, that makes me a little sad. But I get it, the actors are getting older, and the story can’t drag on forever. If this really is the ending, I’d say it’s a pretty good send-off.

The ghost design this time wasn’t as creepy as in the earlier movies, but the jumpscares? They still got me good. There were a few moments that really made me shiver, especially when the screen reminded us right at the start that it’s “based on a true story.” I mean, I already knew that, but seeing it written there again pulled me straight into the mood and made me imagine how terrifying it would’ve been if I were actually in their shoes.

The one thing that bugged me a little was the cursed mirror. It was treated like the main source of the haunting, but we never got a real explanation about its origin or why it was cursed. Felt like a missed opportunity, but again it's based on a true story, if Ed and Lorraine really didn't know much about it then it's alright because you can't make things up.

Still, I enjoyed the movie a lot, maybe because it’s probably the last time we’ll see Patrick Wilson and Vera Farmiga as Ed and Lorraine Warren. Their chemistry has always carried the franchise, and I loved seeing them together again.

Oh yeah, I had this funny moment during the movie, it was Judy’s boyfriend kept looking so familiar to me, but I couldn’t place him. Every time he showed up, I kept replaying his voice and face in my head. Then it finally clicked, he played Roger Taylor, the drummer of Queen, in Bohemian Rhapsody! That realization made me way too happy in the middle of a horror movie.

Like always, the movie wrapped up with real photos and recordings from the actual case. And that’s the thing about The Conjuring, it leaves you wondering. Some experts say the Warrens made everything up, others believe that it’s all true. That gray area makes it even more interesting. I ended up going home and googling research papers and old recordings just to dive deeper into the story.

Even though I come from a different faith, I still feel like there’s something real behind these stories, though of course the movies exaggerate things for effect and the drama to make the movie more interesting. In the end, I walked out feeling entertained, curious, and a little spooked. For me, that’s a win. I’d give it a solid 7/10.

Protest With Brains, Not Just Noise

 

Disclaimer: What you’re about to read is entirely my personal opinion based on facts I’ve found and my own reflections. If you want to check the facts, please do your own research. If you disagree with my opinions, that’s fine too, just don’t judge. Everyone has the right to think and speak freely, and this is mine.

Whenever there is a protest against government policy in Indonesia, I’ve never been the type to join the crowd on the streets. Spending all day shouting slogans isn’t my style. But that doesn’t mean I don’t support causes that matter. If a movement truly addresses something that could damage our nation, I stand behind it.

 

The recent protests that shook Jakarta and other cities were not small. They were intense, loud, and, at times, violent. But what exactly fueled this public outrage? Based on my research, there are three main triggers:

1. The outrageous proposal to raise parliamentary housing allowances to IDR 50 million per month.

2. The tragic death of Affan Kurniawan, a young man who was killed in the middle of the street.

3. The never-ending stream of corruption scandals that keeps surfacing in our government.

On these grounds, do I support the demonstrations? Absolutely. Especially when they are led by students who act with morality, and influencers who use their platforms responsibly to educate the public.

But here’s where I draw the line: I strongly disagree with protests that abandon rational thinking.

Protest Is Not a Free Pass to Steal

Let’s be honest. We’ve all seen the videos of mobs raiding officials’ homes and “taking” whatever they could. No, let’s not sugarcoat it, it wasn’t “taking,” it was stealing. Some even broke into innocent citizens’ homes, people with no ties to the government, and stole their belongings. People who shout that the government is corrupt but then seize the opportunity to steal are no different from the corrupt elites they despise. Morality doesn’t bend just because you’re angry.

The excuse that “it’s taxpayer money, so we’re taking back what’s ours” is weak and hypocritical. Theft is theft. If corruption is rotten, then so is opportunism.

The Police Are Not Your Enemy

Another thing: why are protesters fighting with the police? Is every single police officer corrupt? Of course not. Their role on the ground is to maintain order, not to shut down your constitutional right to protest.

Yes, there are videos of citizens being beaten. But there are also countless clips of students deliberately provoking officers, pushing, mocking, even grabbing their gear for the sake of content. If you wear your almamater proudly, act like someone educated. A true intellectual doesn’t need to degrade others to make a point.

Destruction Hurts the People You Claim to Represent

Destroying bus shelters, vandalizing public property, and shutting down transport systems like TransJakarta doesn’t hurt the elites. It hurts the everyday workers who rely on those services to survive.

Our Politics Reflect Our Choices

Here’s an uncomfortable truth: democracy gives us the leaders we deserve. I won’t hide my choice, I supported Anies Baswedan, partly because his track record in Jakarta proved that ideas and competence matter. But he lost and it's okay because that’s how democracy works. What still stings is not the loss, but the reason behind so many votes cast for the winners. Your voices should never have been that cheap.

Politics isn’t a talent show. Leadership needs substance, not hype. And don’t forget that those hypnotists and comedians that you hate? they only got power because some of us handed it to them.

What Should Protests Look Like?

Protests are powerful when they are both loud and smart. Shout outside the gates, demand to be heard, but when the door finally opens, switch from lungs to brains.

History gives us a clear example: in 1998, students stormed the parliament chanting “Down with Soeharto!” But when some of them were invited inside, they sat, spoke, and argued for constitutional change with clarity and discipline. That’s how pressure turned into reform.

Compare that to burning chairs and smashing windows today. Which do you think leaves a stronger legacy?

My Final Thought

It’s easy to dismiss me: “You’re just typing on a screen, why don’t you join the protests?”

But here’s my answer: marching is not the only way to care. I fight with reason, with words, and with faith and prayer, for a better Indonesia.

And if someone says: “Oh, so you support a corrupt government?” no, I don’t. I love my country. Real patriotism is caring enough to speak up and think carefully, not just follow the crowd without knowing anything or defend whoever is in power, that's stupidity.

Because in the end, I believe true change doesn’t come from chaos. It comes from courage, intellect, and integrity. If we truly want to fight, let’s fight with conscience, with dignity, and with ideas so powerful that no riot could ever match their strength. That is how a nation is transformed.

If all you can do is call me names or make assumptions, then congratulations, you’ve just proved my point. But I believe that if you’ve read this far, listened with an open mind, and reflected on these words, it shows you care, and that means you’re part of the change we need.

Get well soon, Indonesia.