#closed minded

I like, resonate, and accept Billy Hargrove because he’s messy. Flawed. Humane. Angry. Real.

He’s driven by complexes, insecurities, and broken ideologies that have warped the way he sees the world, but he’s not irredeemable.

If given a proper support system, he could have been very much capable of un-linear, unclear, imperfect growth.

Was his anger, resentment, fear and self destructive energy targeted to undeserving people? Yes; But that’s honest.

When forced to endure warfare the way he was, in adolescence no less (so no one at his age behaves perfectly all the time and treats everyone how they deserve to be treated, even without one physically abusive parent and one neglectful one—which in and of itself is a form of abuse in my opinion to a child whose entire evolution in formative years depends upon said parents), you start to see the world through a distorted lens that tricks your brain into believing there’s a war everywhere and with everyone. Because that’s all you know.

Is it hard to watch at times? Yes. Is it honest? Yes. But that’s why it’s hard. It hits close to home. It’s human. It holds a lens to the way life happens to us all. Whether we respond “perfectly” or not.

It’s too easy to write Billy off as an apple who didn’t fall far from the tree of which gave him life, but that’s honestly lazy.

What he could have become when the reigns of his father was loosened, is endless.

Would he have changed overnight? Not likely. But he would have evolved. Without question that is a fact. He was a child still. In adulthood, he would have evolved regardless, as we all do, even if he didn’t change for the better. But I’m inclined to believe that he would have. He threw himself in front of a girl he didn’t know, had remorse for the actions that his flayed consciousness made him commit, and longed to protect a mother at a young age, even when that mother failed to protect him.

I myself love Lucas Sinclair and don’t make any excuses for Billy’s behavior with him. But I also refuse to turn a blind eye to the factors that shape all of us.

People are capable of change. And before his death, Billy made the choice to take the first step towards that growth. And yet still, he’s regarded as only the mistakes he’s made.

Mind you a boy like that?; Almost every decision he makes out in the real world stems from a deeply rooted trauma response of trying to be who his father demands. And seeking silent approval that his father will never grant.

He’s trying to earn a love that was his birthright.

He’s trying to be whoever he needs to be, a monster or not, to feel like finally, one of the people who are meant to love him, will at least, see him.

So as he charges into the world, he’s not really acting of his own free will when his autonomy has been dictated and snatched away from him since before he understood what was truly happening.

Billy Hargrove is a cautionary tale.

There were so many Billy Hargrove’s who grew into Neil’s because people regarded them as such before they ever had a real chance to change.

We write people off and reduce them to their wrong doings, placing them in box or a void that they can’t escape, and then we wonder why they won’t make a move to better themselves.

They’re in a cage, angry and battered, we judge and ask them why they scream.

Why they hate.

Why they don’t evolve.

The world sometimes doesn’t allow for evolution when we pass harsh and unforgiving judgements, deciding who quote on quote deserves to grow.

Billy Hargrove wasn’t perfect. And yes, we should have conversations about his actions and where he went wrong. The problem comes from when we talk about him as if he’s incapable of being more than that.

So many Billy’s are capable of flourishing and changing when given the grace to do so, and when taken out of the environment that lead them to believe they had to have raised fists against the word to begin with.

Billy Hargrove died before ever understanding that he wasn’t what his father said he was with strikes against the face and damaging expectations.

He was a victim.

The world is so stuck on having a perfect victim to accept.

Someone docile. Someone who retreats into themselves in response to abuse. Someone who wants to be invisible and who doesn’t make too much noise.

And that response to abuse is valid. But so is rage and anger and self imploding.

There is no perfect way to respond to trauma, there’s only a way.

Billy’s way was hurtful to those around him. It wasn’t perfect. But it was real. It was honest. And he should have been better to Max, absolutely. He shouldn’t have put hands on Lucas. Undeniable. But he never had anyone to show him that this wasn’t the way.

How do you know there’s anything different when a father strikes you constantly in your formative years?

How do you know the world at large isn’t under attack constantly?

How do you know that you’re safe in a world when your father taught you young, that you aren’t.

How do you know how to communicate with words when your father only taught you a language through violence?

You learn from the people around you.

If Billy had any other figures around him that helped guide him, and who’d have given him the space to do so without a constant judgmental oppression, who knows where he could’ve gone in life. What he could have been.

How much growth he could have had.

Who knows.

Shipping harringrove or resonating or understanding Billy doesn’t make you any less of a person. Nor does your opinion hold less weight.

Billy Hargrove wasn’t seen while he was alive like so many real people aren’t. Which is why I think it’s important to take an extra second to see beyond what’s obvious. To see what’s really there.

Not my fault you don’t like the facts and can’t stand to have a decent conversation with someone who thinks differently than you. 

Should I specify a trigger warning with this one? We’re gonna play a bit of pretend here.

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Let’s choose the easy route for the sake of this post shall we? Lots of hope and redemption. It’s getting old right? Let’s go the other way because keeping that kind of theme is really hard.

Forget this hate for myself. Let’s hate everyone else. Let’s reach out to someone happy about a particular game or movie and shit on it just because we can. Let’s be a troll for the lolz and make ourselves feel better. Let’s hate on your politician of choice. Not because we know facts but because we don’t agree. Let’s be the digital police and tell people what to do and when. What to say online. Who to talk to. Who not to talk to. Let’s go the whole nine yards and shove ourselves in someone’s face.

You should chase happiness, right? Fuck that. Let’s be mad. Let’s turn on the news and ruin a safe space by playing the same crap political agendas that have been happening for the last four years. Did I just force an opinion? I guess I did but fuck it, because I don’t care how others feel. Let’s jump on online forums and find something we can hold onto the entire day and argue with people on the internet who disagree. Let’s watch a bunch of explicit material online and then complain that the real thing isn’t satisfying. Let’s drink up all the alcohol and do all the drugs, act like a crappy person, and blame the others, not ourselves for why we did what we did. Self-accountability is overrated anyway.

In a public place? Even better. A chance to inflate my ego. I know I know who you are but I’ll acknowledge you for the sake of being greeted. Makes me feel good for that second I wanted. I’m a celebrity though. I’m talking to staff about important matters. I’m pulling status on you. You can walk off now. I’m famous, you aint shit. Unless you’re complimenting me. Then you’re the world to me…for as long as I decide. Bartenders best get me what I want when I want it. I own this bar. Heck I own all around me. The world revolves around me.

All aboard the righteous indignation, I’m taking everyone down, because life isn’t fair.

Ilmu itu seperti buah manggis. Untuk mencicipi manisnya ilmu, kita mesti melewati kulit luarnya dulu. Kepahitan.

Hari ini, beberapa puisiku dibaca oleh penulis terkenal yang kuhubungi di akun IG.

Beberapa bulan terakhir aku memang memburu perhatian dari sastrawan-sastrawan terkenal. Melalui akun FB, IG, Email, Blog mereka dll. Beberapa sastrawan tidak menanggapi. Beberapa lagi tidak ada kelanjutan saat kukirimi karyaku.

Tapi, eh hari ini DM IGku direspon.

Kulayangkan saja maksud dan tujuanku.

Kutawari untuk membaca karya-karyaku.

Aku dipuji? Dihormati? Disemangati?

NO!

Pertama, aku disalahkan karena tidak memiliki Blog untuk share karya-karyaku.

Kedua, Puisiku langsung kena kritik. Bukan isinya, tapi masalah sepele (menurutku). Kosa kata. Gramatikalku banyak yang keliru. Tidak sesuai KBBI. Dia malas melanjutkan membaca.

Aku?

Down. Benar-benar amatiran. Dunia sastra telalu luas dan tinggi. Aku masih ada di lantai. Di bagian paling bawah. Ekspektasiku hancur. Berkawan dengan penulis lain. Masuk ke dunia sastrawan.

Ya, memang kritik itu rasanya selalu pahit.

Tapi hei, aku harus bertahan. Sama seperti perjalanan-perjalanan lain dalam menempuh ilmu.

Setelah mendapat saran dan kritik, pikiranku terbuka. Seberapa krusialnya penulisan kata-kata dalam dunia puisi. Seberapa pentingnya share karya kita kepada khayalak lewat daring ataupun langsung.

Kami berdiskusi panjang. Meskipun sebenarnya harga diriku hancur. Banyak kata-kata dan argumen yang kutahan dan kutelan lagi. Aku juga punya konsep dan ideologi. Ini juga kali pertama karyaku mendapat kritikan. Sama sekali tidak dipuji malahan.

Tapi aku bersabar. Bukan melawannya hanya demi harga diri. Aku harus bisa menempatkan diri di posisi pemberi kritik tersebut. Mengkritik diriku sendiri.

Maka benar kata Lao Tzu, "if you want to become full, let yourself be empty" senada dengan yang dilakukan Bob Sadino, " setiap bertemu dengan orang baru, saya selalu mengkosongkan gelas saya terlebih dahulu".

Itulah masalah kebanyakan orang. Sudah merasa pintar dan paling benar. Hanya mau menyerap pengetahuan dari apa yang didapatnya seorang diri saja. Atau bahkan menolak pemikiran-pemikiran dari luar.

Open minded adalah pintu kanal bagi pengetahuan yang akan masuk ke dalam otak. Siapa yang mengatur pintu itu adalah sang pemilik otak.

Memang tidak mudah membiarkan ilmu dari luar masuk. Kita harus membuka pikiran dan mau merendahkan hati. Bukankah padi semakin berisi maka semakin merunduk.

Masalah selektif dalam menerima ilmu itu beda lagi.

Orang lapar dan haus, boleh selektif dalam memilih makanan yang akan dimakannya. Tapi porsi yang akan dia konsumsi pasti akan tetap luar biasa besar. Toh nanti di dalam perut, masih ada seleksi dalam pemanfaatan atau penyerapan makanan.

Begitu juga dengan haus ilmu. Buka pikiran selebar-lebarnya. Seluas-luasnya.

Lupakan harga diri. Utamakan rasa penasaran dan rasa haus diri.

Marah atau berhenti saat menerima kritik itu lemah. Atau terlalu kolot dengan konsepsi diri. Hanya bisa menempatkan diri dalam satu sudut pandang saja.

Atau lebih parah lagi. Menutup pikiran. Sudah merasa paling benar. Menolak apapun yang di luar dirinya. Menempatkan diri selalu di atas orang lain.

Malas membaca buku juga salah satunya. Enggan membaca karena sudah merasa cukup. Enggan menerima pemikiran lain. Pengetahuan baru. Bahkan takut ideologinya berlawanan dengan bacaan atau bahkan berubah.

Bisa dianalogikan seperti menyimpan bunga di dalam lemari. Maksudnya ingin menjaga bunga tersebut dari orang lain karena begitu indah dan berharga.

Tidak ingin bunganya dilihat orang lain lalu dibanding-bandingkan atau ditiru. Tidak ingin diganggu atau dirubah. Tidak ingin ada yang mengungguli keindahannya.

Hasilnya? Lama kelamaan bunga itu tidak berkembang. Tidak tumbuh. Bahkan mati. Karena tidak diperbolehkan menerima cahaya matahari. Tidak menerima kumbang-kumbang madu dari luar.

“Power-lust is a weed that grows only in the vacant lots of an abandoned mind. ”

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Atlas Shrugged

Ayn Rand

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