Further Studies in Prose Final Assignment

Woman’s Subjectivity to Man’s Existence in George Orwell’s 1984 (Nineteen Eighty-Four)

Abstract

This essay will examine a novel, a fiction novel about politics life’s future from the writer George Orwell. The novel, Nineteen Eighty-Four, obviously tells us about politics feature in Orwell’s mind by creating the fiction of it. However, in this essay, subjectivity and existence criticism theory will be used to analyze and examine the work which, I believe, has subjectivity issues especially related to the existentialism. In the novel the readers, whether conscious or not, have been forced to agree that men will always need women in their lives. This novel also shows that woman can change the man’s thought with her faith or with her power. The power that I mean is subjectivity. Subjectivity obviously influences people’s existences. For some people, subjectivity is easy to get and always inside them. However, for other people this subjectivity is difficult to get and even lost from their thought. Therefore, some people need other’s help to get their existences.

Key words: subjectivity, existence, existentialism

Introduction and Analysis

This novel tells that 1984 (setting of the story) was a terrible year for the residents of one city in the UK. This happened because of the unusual system of government that controlled on every citizen very strictly. On the other hand, the government seemed to limit the power of thought of all citizens by controlling them strictly and giving very hard punishment on anyone who rebelled. The main character in this novel is Winston. Winston is a thirty-six-year old man which was working for the government. At the beginning of the story, it was told that Winston was an ordinary man who could not rebel in the system administration. However, he was not known as a person who loved the government. He always looked moody and always thought about what was happening in his life and his country. This could be seen when Winston told about what he experienced that if he had written a true diary, it would have harmed him. In other words, Winston had no existence. In the middle of the story, the character of Winston turned into a bold man and began to change his life. I assume that Winston started to feel his existence that he was born and grown up. In addition, in the end of the story the character of Winston greatly changed because he did not feel his existence anymore. He could no longer think what he always thought about in the beginning of the story. In my opinion, the change of Winston’s character was connected to the role of female characters in the novel. One of the female characters in this novel is Julia. Julia is very influential figure in the birth of existence of Winston’s character. Therefore, I wrote this essay to examine how the existence of a person, especially a man can be constructed by a female subjectivity.

1984 (Nineteen Eighty-Four) is not only the work of novel genre made by George Orwell in his life. He wrote the novel in 1947-1948 and the novel was published in 1949. According to the data gathered by the free encyclopedia site:

As literary political fiction and dystopian science-fiction, Nineteen Eighty-Four is a classic novel in content, plot, and style. Many of its terms and concepts, such as Big Brother, doublethink, thoughtcrime, Newspeak, Room 101, Telescreen, 2 + 2 = 5, and memory hole, have entered everyday use since its publication in 1949. (Wikipedia)

As the site mentioned above, 1984 (Nineteen Eighty-Four) is a dystopian science-fiction work which has the real fiction, doesn’t occur in the real life, and only happens in the writer’s mind or thought. Therefore many uncommon words are found in this novel. It can be said that it’s only the writer’s imagination and dream about damage future related to his real life in his era.

1984 (Nineteen Eighty-Four) is called as a dystopian work because it describes the undesirable future. However if that is true, regarding to my research it will much help me because: I can analyze whether subjectivity can still exist or not in the frightening imagined life and how the people in undesirable life can keep their subjectivity which is usually taken by their arbiter. In addition I can examine how other subjectivity can influence other existence based on this novel.

Knowing that the novel is a pure-fiction novel, I realize that the writer wanted to explore what would happen next if his thought were true. Furthermore, I realize that the characters in the novel are only fake characters and absolutely it did not happen. However what Orwell wrote in this novel shows us his high imagination. I do believe that what he wrote also is at least one of his experiences. Therefore, the issue of existentialism within subjectivity occurred in that time.

To discuss what I mentioned above, I have to look for the theory regarding my statement and I focus on existentialism, subjectivity, and power. The first thing I would like to introduce is existentialism theory especially from Jean Sartre in Philosophical Library. 444-451.

What they think that existence precedes essence, or, if you prefer, that subjectivity must be the starting point.

From that sentence I think that the author wants to say that existence in human life is more than everything. Therefore, the theory says that existence goes before essense or the essense can not stand without existence. In addition, the  the existence or the real existence can be created by subjectivity. Subjectivity is the most important thing in the human’s life because without subjectivity, human does not have power to do. Thus happens because when someone has a power to do something (subjectivity) in his/her life, she/ he also can be recognized as the subject that many people know. However, many people do not realize that they have power. Therefore, their bodies are exists but they are actually not exist. This happens to the main character in the novel, Winston, who does not have existence in the beginning of the novel. Although he exists, he does not know what to do because he only lives following government’s command. This appears from the text:

He sat back. A sense of complete helplessness had descended upon him. To begin with he did not know with any certainty that this was 1984. It must be round about that date, since he was fairly sure that his age was thirty nine, and he believed that he had been born in 1944 or 1945; but it was never possible nowadays to pin down any date within a year or two.

For whom, it suddenly occurred to him to wonder, was he writing this diary? For the future, for the unborn. (Goerge Orwell1984 : 1949)

Those sentences describe us about Winston. Winston seems desperate and lost his existence. Although he has body, he does not have any sense to show that he is alive. Moving to next theory, I would like to introduce subjectivity theory especially from Donald E. Hall. This theory will make us understand what subjectivity is and also make clear what I will write in this paper.

Donald E. Hall described what subjectivity is by citing a work from Regenia Gagnier:

The term “subjectivity,” as Regenia Gagnier has argued in her incisive investigation of Victorian self-representation, can mean in critical parlance today many things simultaneously:

First, the subject is a subject to itself, an “I,” however difficult or even impossible it may be for others to understand this “I” from its own viewpoint, within its own experience. Simultaneously, the subject is a subject to, and of, others; in fact, it is often an “Other” to others, which also affects its sense of its own subjectivity. . . . Third, the subject is also a subject of knowledge, most familiarly perhaps of the discourse of social institutions that circumscribe its terms of being. Fourth, the subject is a body that is separate (except in the case of pregnant women) from other human bodies; and the body, and therefore the subject, is closely dependent upon its physical environment. (Gagnier 1991: 8)

(Hall, 2004)

The understanding that I can take from Gagnier’s explanation about subjectivity above is that: the first, a subject is not only for the subject him/herself but also for others and it means that when a person has a subjectivity, the subjectivity can be for other selves; the second, the subject can be an “Other”, I interpret this as a person who becomes strange, unknown, something that is other and this subject is also something which others can learn from, perhaps by analyzing or studying it; and the last, a subject is a body who has its own mind and a subject does not need any mediator to the body if it wants to be complete.

However, from this understanding, what becomes my concern from the previous theory is that a person subjectivity can be subjectivity others or one subjectivity can be a two-existence. That statement increasingly convinces me that someone can influence the existence of others or one's belief in him/her self can influence the belief other people against themselves. If I noticed the daily life, most people will argue that a person who can influence the lives is male. This occurs because of the assumption or understanding which believe that men are stronger and smarter than women. However, in this novel, that is not very visible nor even reversed it. The belief or understanding of female characters (subjectivity) in her self will affect the existence of male figure. This thought is proved by the text:

‘You’re hurt?’ he said.

‘It’s nothing. My arm. It’ll be alright in a second.’

She spoke as though her heart were fluttering. She had certainly turned very pale.

‘You haven’t broken anything.’

‘No, I’m alright. It hurt for a moment, that’s all.’

She held out her free hand to him, and he helped her up. She had regained some of her colour and appeared very much better. (Goerge Orwell1984 : 1949)

This conversation happens when Julia pretends crashing Winston because she only wants to give letter to Winston. This situation shows us how woman can be brave and have subjectivity. The subjectivity that I mean is the faith of her/his owns condition or the awareness of what going to do next in her/his life. In this novel, Julia believes in her thought and it is what I mean by subjectivity.

The influence from Julia is Winston’s change, which appears in the text:

Finally he decided that the safest place was the canteen. If he could get her at a table by her self, somewhere in the middle of the room, not too near the telescreens, and with a sufficient buzz of conversation all round – if these condition endured for, say, thirty seconds, it might be possible to exchange a few words. (Goerge Orwell1984 : 1949)

After receiveng Julia’s letter, writen ‘I Love You’, Winston starts to wake up. He even thinks about what he has to do next. In addition, he always makes a plan to get a way to meet Julia. He finally knows the certainty which has never comes into him. In addition, Julia faith runs to change Winston thought. This is the text related to it:

‘It’s this bloody thing that does it,’ she said, ripping off the scarlet sash of the Junior Anti-Sex League and flinging it onto a bough. Then, as though touching her waist had reminded her of something, she felt in the pocket of her overalls and produced a small slab of chocolate. She broke it in half and gave one of the pieces to Winston. Even before he had taken it he knew by the smell that it was very unusual chocolate. It was dark and shiny, and was wrapped in silver paper. Chocolate normally was dull-brown crumbly stuff that tasted, as nearly as one could describe it, like the smoke of a rubbish fire. But at some time or another he had tasted chocolate like the piece she had given him. The first whiff of its scent had stirred up some memory which he could not pin down, but which was powerful and troubling. (Goerge Orwell1984 : 1949)

Those sentences describe Julia’s habbitual action. On the other page of the novel, I also found:

Julia, in any case, seldom had an evening completely free. She spent an astonishing amount of time in attending lectures and demonstrations distributing literature for the Junior Anti-Sex League, preparing banners for Hate Week, making collections for the savings campaign, and such-like activities. It paid, she said; it was camouflage. If you kept the small rules you could break the big ones. (Goerge Orwell1984 : 1949)

This faith and certainty make Winston believes in his own thought and return or maybe bear the existence in his life. Therefore, Winston was sure to marry Julia. Whereas, at that moment, no one can choose what they want and what they believe. However, Winston is not afraid to rebel the government’s police. This occurs in the text:

He wished that he were a married walking through the streets with her just as they were doing now, but openly and without fear, talking of trivialities and buying odds and ends for the household. (Goerge Orwell1984 : 1949)

The text in the novel above shows us how Winston acts differently from the first page because Winston can be a dreamer and free. He absolutely gets his existence without using his subjectivity but with using woman’s subjectivity. However, in the end of the novel, Winston loses his existence because his existence and Julia’s existence. Although Winston loses his existence, he at least has ever felt his once.

After analyzing the novel and the theory above, I finally agree with Toril Moi, who stands for the idea or theory about that. Therefore, the next theory is only about the dominance and power of woman and man.

For Millet, the essence of politics is power, and the task of feminist crtitics and theorists is to expose the way in which male dominance over females (which constitutes her simple and versatile definition of ‘patriarchy’) (Toril Moi: 1989)

When I read that sentence, I think many concepts that relate to our life because our life can be separated from the dominance and the person having power. In my opinion, the dominance happens because of the silence, which happens to Winston. In addition, the power comes to Julia, who is powerfull enough because he gets subjectivity in her heart and mind. Sometimes, we think that men always dominate women without thinking that women usually keep silent and let men do whatever they want. However women absolutely can dominate the men with their actions.

Conclusion

Upon finishing and examining this essay, I have proved myself that woman’s subjectivity can influence man’s existence by acting and throwing the silence. In addition, woman can change man’s life with her faith and certainty.

References

Hall, D. E. (2004). Subjectivity. New York: Routledge.

http://en.wikipedia

Moi, Toril. Feminist, Female, Feminine. Essays in Gender and the Politics of Literary Criticism (1989): 117-132. Blackerell.

Orwell, George. (1990). 1984 (Nineteen Eighty-Four). England: Penguin Books.

Sartre, Jean P. Existentialism. Philosophical Library. 444-451

Shakespeare's

There are many Shakespeare's writings, melting the readers including me myself. :)

Enjoy this sonnet, buddies...

SONNET 18

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? 
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer's lease hath all too short a date: 

Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimm'd; 
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance, or nature's changing course, untrimm'd;

But thy eternal summer shall not fade
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st;
Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st; 

So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee. 

World Wind

Millions of years ago, a baby of wind, whose birth had been eagerly awaited by his parents and the entire population of the wind village, was born. It was said that the wind baby could change the life of the wind village to be better. It was known from the characteristics of the mother when she was pregnant with the wind baby. Wind mother never complained, felt angry, or damaged anything when she was pregnant. whereas, it’s common or even becomes habit if a pregnant mother with the wind baby would damage the wind village.

So, when knowing that the mother was different, the father then questioned the wind king. However, the wind king unexpectedly cried and congratulated the father of the wind. The father was in confusion because he did not understand what the king meant. He then ventured to get an explanation. Unfortunately, the king was too touched to respond to the questions. The king went to his room.

The father went home with a big question. The question that should be answered and become clear even made him more confused. He then told his wife and the villagers what he had heard from the king of the wind. Hearing this, the villagers immediately cheered and rejoiced. Many of them even congratulate the young couple, the mother and the father of wind, directly. They also said that they rejoice in the birth of the baby. Besides, they would also keep the mother's pregnancy and waited for the wind baby’s birth.

Finally, on that day, the awaited baby was born. The residents of the wind village welcome the baby with full of emotion and joy. They believe that the baby would bring luck to them. So, on that day, the wind village was very crowded and full of light and joy. The villagers held a big party. The wind king was invited to welcome the baby. However, the king did not come. There were other reasons making him not able to get out of the palace. A palace guard said that the wind king were sick and crying.

Years passed, the baby grew up with love of his mother. However, the expectation of the villagers was like a pseudo thing or even disappeared by time. The wind baby grew into a weak child, wihtout any strength. In fact, the wind baby could not do anything. He was silent and could not play like the others . Paralyzed. He could smile only. His smile was only able to move one or two reeds, nothing more than that.

Every night, the wind mother cried. She felt very sorry for his son. Moreover, she felt helpless when the villager did not want to know her family anymore. Happiness and beauty of living in the world in his eyes vanished.

-to be continued

A response for listening to the poem ‘The World Is a Beautiful Place’ by Lawrence Ferlinghetti

Rainfall

I don't, actually, know to write because I can't, actually, write. However, just now I've decided to begin, again, making a note. Well, making a note for all things that had begun in my life was a wrong thing if you know. But. But you don't even know a rising sun nor even look at the rainfall. Now, I am seeing the rainfall. It's too much to just imagine in your little brain. Rainfall. when I see them, I see your eyes there, that's why I just wanna see rainfall now.

The Waste Land

THE BURIAL OF THE DEAD
by
T. S. Eliot

April is the cruellest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.
Winter kept us warm, covering
Earth in forgetful snow, feeding
A little life with dried tubers.
Summer surprised us, coming over the Starnbergersee
With a shower of rain; we stopped in the colonnade,
And went on in sunlight, into the Hofgarten,
And drank coffee, and talked for an hour.
Bin gar keine Russin, stamm’ aus Litauen, echt deutsch.
And when we were children, staying at the archduke’s,
My cousin’s, he took me out on a sled,
And I was frightened. He said, Marie,
Marie, hold on tight. And down we went.
In the mountains, there you feel free.
I read, much of the night, and go south in the winter.
What are the roots that clutch, what branches grow
Out of this stony rubbish? Son of man,
You cannot say, or guess, for you know only
A heap of broken images, where the sun beats,
And the dead tree gives no shelter, the cricket no relief,
And the dry stone no sound of water. Only
There is shadow under this red rock,
(Come in under the shadow of this red rock),
And I will show you something different from either
Your shadow at morning striding behind you
Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you;
I will show you fear in a handful of dust.
Frisch weht der Wind
Der Heimat zu.
Mein Irisch Kind,
Wo weilest du?
‘You gave me hyacinths first a year ago;
‘They called me the hyacinth girl.’
Yet when we came back, late, from the Hyacinth garden,
Your arms full, and your hair wet, I could not
Speak, and my eyes failed, I was neither
Living nor dead, and I knew nothing,
Looking into the heart of light, the silence.
Od’ und leer das Meer.
Madame Sosostris, famous clairvoyante,
Had a bad cold, nevertheless
Is known to be the wisest woman in Europe,
With a wicked pack of cards. Here, said she,
Is your card, the drowned Phoenician Sailor,
(Those are pearls that were his eyes. Look!)
Here is Belladonna, the Lady of the Rocks,
The lady of situations.
Here is the man with three staves, and here the Wheel,
And here is the one-eyed merchant, and this card,
Which is blank, is something he carries on his back,
Which I am forbidden to see. I do not find
The Hanged Man. Fear death by water.
I see crowds of people, walking round in a ring.
Thank you. If you see dear Mrs. Equitone,
Tell her I bring the horoscope myself:
One must be so careful these days.
Unreal City,
Under the brown fog of a winter dawn,
A crowd flowed over London Bridge, so many,
I had not thought death had undone so many.
Sighs, short and infrequent, were exhaled,
And each man fixed his eyes before his feet.
Flowed up tbe hill and down King William Street,
To where Saint Mary Woolnoth kept the hours
With a dead sound on the final stroke of nine.
There I saw one I knew, and stopped him, crying ‘Stetson!
‘You who were with me in the ships at Mylae!
‘That corpse you planted last year in your garden,
‘Has it begun to sprout? Will it bloom this year?
‘Or has the sudden frost disturbed its bed?
‘Oh keep the Dog far hence, that’s friend to men,
‘Or with his nails he’ll dig it up again!
‘You! hypocrite lecteur! — mon semblable, — mon frère!’

Soul

Zia was listening to his favourite song when his soul went out of his body again. He was hovering, seeing a lot of things he had never seen before. His soul was frantically looking for another soul around, looking in bushes, behind the moon, in the dark of night, at the end of the road, under the bridge, at the bus stop, in the rose garden, in empty buildings and in every place he had ever visited.

At that time, he also went to the hospital. He wished there was someone who could accompany him and chatted with him. Yet as usual, there was no soul that separated from the body. The soul of a man returned directly to his body with the end of a song he was listening to,.

She
She, oh she

He woke up. His soul had returned to his body again. He looked down, irritated against him who never knew what really happened. He looked down, wanted to shout that soul and body belong to him completely. "No one has the right for me, my body and soul" he said quietly, as quiet as turning clockwise when a doctor injected vaccination into the body. It was so quiet, as quiet as girls’ voice when they spoke to their boyfriend.

Zia always wanted to play back song that he had heard before. Maybe he had been playing the song in ten, hundred, even thousand of times before he went. He began to select and open the music folder in black colored laptop in his room. It’s not a peculiar thing that he began to push his buttons Click to playlist listed there. Then, after few minutes a song came.

She...

May be the face I can't forget

The trace of pleasure or regret

May be my treasure or the price I have to pay

She...

May be the song that summer sings

May be the chill that autumn brings

May be a hundred different things

Within the measure of a day

She...

May be the beauty or the beast

May be the famine or the feast

May turn each day into a heaven or a hell

She may be the mirror of my dreams

The smile reflected in a stream

She may not be what she may seem

Inside her shell

...

1984

This is only my point of view ^^

After reading the novel 1984 by George Orwell, there are a lot of questions in my minds. How not, I have to read the work of someone with such a wild thought. At the beginning of the story I feel fear. This kind of fear comes from the depiction of the narrator about the background and the plot of the novel. How can I not feel fear? In this kind of freewill era, free-speech and free thought, I have to think of the times where people can not argue or even think freely of their own volition. There are always people who control everything. Besides, they (Thought Police) keep watching on people by putting on telescreen in every corner of the room. Thus, when people think about something which is deviated from the ideology they profess, it emits telescreen. The ideology that they believe in, mentioned in the novel, is INGSOC (English Socialist). Chairman of this group is called Big Brother. It is because the telescreen always displays a post “Big Brother Is Watching You”. They display this writing in order that people are always scared and realize that there are always people who keep an eye on what they think. Nevertheless, the main character in this novel has another view. He wants to express what he thinks. Therefore, he writes a diary. In fact, at that time, writing activities is also prohibited. So, is it not worth if I feel scared when I read the beginning of the novel?

When I ask whether I like the novel 1984 or not, especially book 1 chapter 1-4, my answer is then both. On the one hand, I like the way the author of this novel imagines 1984 in which he himself had never experienced it so that there are a lot of the things that he exaggerated. However, those kinds of things make us interested. Besides, he also has a very wide and high imagination of the era. So that, the narrator that he created is so vivid and knows all things. The factor of narrator is what actually makes me confused because I think that the narrator knows everything that makes him want to tell us all parts of main character’s life. In addition, narrator also tells a few things or words that we don’t not know before.


This novel raises a political issue, especially about socialism. It is illustrated with the shared interests, not the individual interests. Individual interest is prohibited in this novel. This evidence comes from the telescreen mounted on each wall to determine the individual thoughts. This is done to prevent someone from being smarter than others, or being more powerful than others. The principle that they profess is that all people are the same; status, rights, and obligations. And if you compare it with this era, it is not likely to happen eventhough it might occur in 1984. Moreover, this novel also raises the dualism, the thought that puts the two sides, there is always a good thing in terms of bad things and it returns as well.

Have you ever thought about this poem and related to our country? It's so sad...

Morning at the Window

by: T. S Eliot

They are rattling breakfast plates in basement kitchens,

And along the trampled edges of the street

I am aware of the damp souls of housemaids

Sprouting despondently at area gates.

The brown waves of fog toss up to me

Twisted faces from the bottom of the street,

And tear from a passer-by with muddy skirts

An aimless smile that hovers in the air

And vanishes along the level of the roofs.

Who is she, honey?

Yesterday,..

I found the eyes gazing at you,

I saw the lips smiling at you, your eyes,

I looked at the hand holding your hand, yours,

And, and, and,...

I met the girl who was walking, laughing, and joking with you, mine!

Two Gorgeous Orchids

Mysha Qowiyya El Amin

Rajwa Shauma El Amin

Hello there,.. it's march, and I love it so much because I believe that this month breezes and starts to spring. ^^ However, I actually feel sad and sick to see my little nieces, yeah two little beautiful kids with their dimples in their cheeks. Really, I miss them so much.

Let me introduce them to you. They are my old sister's daughters. >>

The left one is my first niece. I (now) call her "kakak" because she has young sister now. I used to call "mey-mey" and absolutely look after her when my sister was in hospital few days after she was born. She is a charming little girl with many ideas to do everything. She always has something to ask to many people, especially to her mom and dad. We love her so much, moreover my mother who becomes the first grandmom for her. Although her age is about to four, she knows and understands what the adults say or think such as when I got married, she said "now, ateu Tsani is om Noval's,... " then she continued saying while looking at us (my husband and I) "kiss Ateu, Om!" Suddenly we were laughing together. She also is good at acting, yeah, she can cry and directly smile.  I think she can be an actress later,..hhihihi... over all, She really loves talking or telling everything. She can compose a new story every day. And I usually have no idea how she has many ideas to tell a new thing. It's really awesome! Yeah, she is the first orchid in my family, my mother's orchid who will always be loved and looked after by us. ^^

The right one is my 2nd niece, the calm one. hihihi,... I don't even have something to tell about "De Jua", her nick name (actually we call her because she has no brief to ask what she wants) hehe, Yeah, She is a real baby because she understands us well. She is a silent baby. She is only able to cry once or twice a day and it has a reason. She will sleep so soundly if she has been full. She is really cute. and I believe if you meet her, you will want to pinch or even bite her, especially her cheek. yeah, she is the contrary of her old sister. I can say they both really differnt. I mean, their characters because if their faces, you can see from the pict, they are same; beautiful. De Jua seldom greets others except her uncle, my husband. I don't know why she really likes him so much. It appears if they meet; she will smile and laugh for long time. And it always makes me envy to my husband because he can make her laugh very long. It's really amazing! Yeah, she is the 2nd orchid in my family, my 2nd mother's orchid who will be loved and looked after as same as the first orchid by us, your family. ^^

I will always love and take care of you both, my gorgeous orchids. 

really love this poetry so much :)

Resumé

by: Dorothy Parker

Razors pain you;

Rivers are damp;

Acids stain you;

And drugs cause cramp.

Guns aren’t lawful;

Nooses give;

Gas smells awful;

You might as well live.

Big Minds

by: Naomi Sun

That “humans are so creative, innovative and consumer” is the sentence that I always heard from my Dad when he was standing or walking in the shopping center. When I thought about it twice, it was true. The shopping center buildings are always great and high, showing the development of human knowledge, yeah, they are so creative. After building one, they built a better one, more beautiful, taller, bigger, and of course more luxurious. It signifies that humans are innovative. And the word that always sounds in my ears is "consumptive". Dad was right that the humans are consumers. They always want everything and spend money on unnecessary things. Buying much food and wasting their time for choosing it are common activities for them. They also buy shoes and clothes whenever there are events, ceremonies, parties, and other holidays. They buy things that are still used. In fact, people say that our economy is down and out of control, don’t they? Of course not.

In every shopping center, the prices increase rapidly. And people are never satisfied with what they have. They always want to buy new things, the new one, the others do not have. Yeah, although prices soar so high, but traders will always smile, they are happy, because people never stop shopping. As of today, around me see a lot of people. Busy moms shop, they are looking for discounted clothing, shoes are clearance, which is half the price of food, other items are buy one get one, and picking out all the considerations that they said it was the best. Teenagers are running, laughing, or just sitting in a corner with their friends, companions, or girl/boy friend. Fathers were just following the mothers shopping, sometimes they will call their wives and ask when they will return. They would prefer to go to a more valuable history, education, or places that could spoil their tongue.

I was in one of the great shopping places in the city, Bandung. In this shopping center, there's not much I can do. Like most people, my friends around my age, I could only walk, look around, or be silent with my other friends. Like most other shopping centers, here also music was played. Music was with the loud volume and made everyone forget that they have spent money in their wallets. Yet today, in the shopping center, I think there are different things. Most of the music being played was sad and touching music. It sounded so obvious in my ears, yeah I know the music and the lyrics,

I'm a big-big big girl in a big big world...

Yeah, I thought immediately and agree with the lyrics. I remember how I first got to know this song, I was fascinated, a big girl in a big round about. The song is so amazing. My friends invited me to see the dress that is a trend. I said yes. Following their lead and the song still sounds very clear,

It's not a big-big thing if you leave me...

Memories of him are so clearly, when he left me here, in this shopping center. He chose someone else, who is better than me. I was very sad at that time, yet it’s not a great thing, not as big as this shopping center, a very large shopping center, which symbolizes human pride and human extravagance. He left me with a flat expression without speaking anything except "I do not love you anymore, there is a girl who is better than you and I love her." I did not say a word at that time. My age is too young to protest or even cry. Not a single tear came out of my eyes. That's not a big problem for me. "You want to buy this?" My friends show me clothes with new models, "I still have many clothes" I answered without hesitation. A little or a lot, my father affects my mind. Before all my friends and I move from a shop to another shop, the song still sounds in my ears. I hear one of the song's lyrics, loud, shrill

But I do do feel That I do do will

Miss you much

Miss you much

I can see the first leafs falling

It's all yellow and nice

It's so very cold outside

The Seasons

by: Naomi Sun
I

“Lee, why are you so slow? I am bored waiting for you.” My sister said to me for many times with her gloomy face and her dejected expression. I didn’t have to answer her question because she knew my reasons. She knew everything about me. I just kept preparing my needs and as usual I said to her, “You can go ahead, Mera.” But she just stood next to me and stared at my face. At that time, I felt that she really pitied on me. I made my movement faster than that of before. After preparing, she and I waited for bus in front of our house. I saw bus after many minutes past. I got on the bus and Mera shouted “Do the best and get that job!” I looked at her and noded.

On my way, I got a new friend, a beautiful friend, I thought. She was wearing a blue shirt with a flower skirt colouring soft blue and pink. She was like an angel in the warm of summer. Her face is very peaceful and gorgeous with flawless skin, pointed nose and black hair. I met her, Titania, on the bus in classical way. I help her when her books fell down next to my seat. At that time, I actually was thinking about Mera and my self but all of her books directly lost all my thought. It was nice but actually I did not like it. I always imagined that I would meet someone whom I love in winter. So, I thought Titania is not the one for me although she was really intriguing me. She sat next to me and we talked about everything. I also told that I wanted to apply for a job in a company. I did not know how we began our chatting but I just knew that my feeling was happy to listen to her voice and we talked about our hobbies. “I like listening to the music,” she said. “So do I” I perceived her statement. Her face was still peaceful but she seemed rather gloomy. I did not say more, I am afraid of disappointing her with my statement. Suddenly, she showed me her music player and had me listen to her favourite song. “Dancing bears... Painted wings... Things I almost remember...” It sounded very sad for me. I looked at her face, her friendly face, which always brought everyone to her life when she talked or smiled. If I had been able to say that I did not really like her favourite song, this story would have changed, she would have stopped her music player and I would not have listened the following lyrics “... once upon a December.”

Listening to that music till the end, I remembered something, someone, and some stories, I meant a story, called mine. Titania still sat next to me, waited for my opinion about hers and absolutely smiled at me.

Titania frowned when she went as if she was staring at something she did not want. She, in her ego is probably buried in, looked at me quizzically, I think she's weird, or maybe I'm weird, ain’t I? My feeling was so unpredictable, messy, scattered like an airplane that crashed into a cliff or possibly to abyss of infinite height. It’s never limited by time, logic and feelings.

“Someone holds me safe and warm, horses prance through a silver storm, Figures dancing gracefully, across my memory,...”

Titania got out from the bus. Her favourite song was left here in my memory. Here, it’s in my time box that will never stop spinning. Ya... here, it’s in the place that they could never find in their seeking. Ouh... here, it’s in nerves that connect many questions and can be dizzying madness one person, two people, or all people in this world which never stops talking. All things from my past, four years ago in my counting of fingers came again into my minds; the autumn, the winter, girls, a bus, and absolutely a December.

II

I felt the sky giving out light that in fact it is the sun that ruling split into two. The sky continued to rhythmically and believed that the sun will continue to exist until the autumn turned into winter. It’s still in the blue sky that never measure, providing all the colours in the sky that had never lost to grasp in love or solace. I was so fascinated. Fascinated with all things in my body, my mind and everything extended my life.

That should be a special day ever where everyone greeted me, gave all their attention to me, kissed my left and right cheek, hugged me, and said "You're so great." Flowers; roses, lilies, orchids, and few flowers that I do not know their name met my hand. Not only that, the wreath that said congratulations on my name in front of the building was lined graduation. The president of my college congratulated and gave me awards granted directly exclusively. Envious looks from other graduates made ​​the day it was supposed to make it special. Moreover, everyone was cheering my name. Heard that they said: "Lee's parents are very lucky" or "Lee is so great" or "Lee’s girl friend would surely be happy with him" and all the words that actually ill my ears. My left side of one-way speech sounds: "Lee’s brother or sister would join happy." “Oh, really?” In a matter of less than a second, my heart immediately revolted. I wanted to step and say: "How do you know about me? Why do you have to say something like that? Don’t you have other topics to discuss than mine?" But the words were simply buried and left behind in my heart. Sad.

Mera, the only one who I have, was not there. When I told her that I had passed my study in college, she never called even the congratulations she had never spoken. In fact, since my parents (her parents too) died, she was the only one who took care of me and raised me. When I was six years old and always asked about our parents, then she just smiled and said "Lee only took Mera, and Mera just need Lee." From that time, I never again whine because I wanted to meet my parents. I just need Mera.

Yet on that day, the words evaporated like mist in the sun. It’s disappeared, disappeared without a trace. On the day of my graduation, I decided to remove the name of Mera in my life even though I knew that she sincerely loved me as her brother. But I was angry, I was angry because she was to sketch out my sadness when happiness had been achieved. And I really did not understand why he had not contacted me since my graduation yet and did not attend it. I never understand these things like that, even though everyone said that I was smart and intelligent that I could finish college just three years. But, for me this was probably stupid, moron, idiot or every word that they suggested that I'm stupid.

III

My decision to leave Mera on graduation day actually happened. After I had finished all the things related to my education, I decided not to return home. I chose to rent a small room not far from the crowds. There were many companies that offered me a good job. Yet I did not want even one of them. I just wanted to be myself no one asked to do something except me, myself. So, for months I did everything but I felt nothing. I waited for no one. Yeah, no one I never met before always came into my dreams. I always ask my self “whom I was waiting for? Shadow? A girl? Imagination? Future? An angel? Or a... devil?” My mind’s full of never-ending question.

There was not compliment any more. There were not people who admire me any more. There were not falling-leaves any more. People's views of me so quickly changed with each passing season. At that time, many people wore parka, drank beer, and stood in front of their furnace for warming up their bodies. Yeah, it’s winter. Winter, the most beautiful season, I thought. Cold. Every morning I went to no where, just sitting down in the bus. No one cared about me. As usual, I took a seat on the bus and look out around. “Lee,..!!!” I heard that a girl was calling me but I didn’t know whose voice was. When I saw her, I remembered my dreams. Really? She was in my dreams. She was so,...  I was speechless. I was tremble, nervouse, worried,afraid, and other feelings that made me just keep silent. She didn’t smile. She directly said “Don’t you remember me?” I really didn’t know her so I just shaked my head. She looked disappointed. “I am sorry,,,” I said. She wasn’t angry to me. She directly introduced her name and promised that we would meet again two weeks after that day. I noded, yeah just noded and didn’t see what would happen.

Two weeks passed, it’s still in winter, in December, I waited for her in the bus stop where we had promised to meet. I was waiting and waiting, but she did not come. I looked at my watch, a classic watch given by my old sister, Mera. Mera, yeah, I missed Mera. “Where is she now?” My heart whispered. I still sat on the settee, looked at my watch again, remembered Mera again, thought about a girl again, looked at my watch again, and again, and again,... She hadn’t come yet. It was two hours for me sitting on the bus stop to wait. “Is the bus stop wrong?” said my mind. I looked at the bus stop name and it was true.

Three hours passed, she didn’t come. I decided to leave the place. When I left, there were three people came to bus stop; two ladies and an old man. I glanced at them. But there was a lady whom I am familiar with. I stoped walking and called her but she had got on the bus. I ran after the bus while called her name “Mera, Mera,..” When I was running after my sister, I saw the girl whom I was waiting for. She waved her hand to me while smiled at me. I didn’t focus on both of them till I didn’t realize that a car smashed my feet.

“Far away, long ago things I yern to remember

and a song someone sings Once upon a December...”

IV

Believe in me “You will go back to one point.” One point that warm will replace winter, dew will replace the ice, and feelings will replace logic. I opened my eyes. My picture when I was a child hung neatly on the wall, yeah, the blue wall. I really realized that everything was the same as a few years ago before I went to college. The house that belongs to Mera and me stayed the same, same as before. And Mera never changed.

V

“...Someone holds me safe and warm, horses prance

through a silver storm, Figures dancing gracefully,
across my memory,

Far away, long ago things I yern to remember

and a song someone sings Once upon a December...”

The lyrics are always on my minds, and I remember something...

“Titania, today you come back again.”