Not Like Them

Dzikri Mahfud

Today is Wednesday, the third day of the week, which also the third day of Ramadhan month, which also the third day of fasting. This Wednesday also happened to be the third day of minggu tenang, a week where students supposedly get to calm and rest, because it is the first week of Ramadhan, and because students need to prepare for the next week—UAS week.

In minggu tenang, there are no classes. You read them right, NO CLASSES AT ALL. Most of my non-Unpar friends are currently undergoing UAS this week, and they would probably still be undergoing UAS next week, and when they finally get their holiday, I will get mine too, on the exact same date. Yay for Universitas Katolik Parahyangan. But there is a saying on the mighty internet:

“There are two sides to every coin.”

There are always assignments to every holiday.


Not-so-yay for Unpar.

Frankly speaking, the ‘tenang’ in ‘minggu tenang’ is not actually there. It can be seen, but it cannot be felt. Just like the Bella Twins.

They are from WWE.

It is their theme song.

I never liked Bella Twins.

It is nine past nine after meridian. My right leg is in the blanket while the other wanders around the bed. I rarely could open my eyes without having to scrub it lately—I had times when I do not have to, but looks like people does that the first time they woke up, I have often seen it on TV, so I guess I am being people. I tried to reach my sticky eyes with my right hand—ah, haven’t checked the phone; luckily I am good with multitasking.

LINE—Instagram—Path, always in that pattern. Ah, yes, Safari, how could I forget to mention Safari. I have been digging into these superhero comics thingy for the last two weeks, so I open Safari a lot these days, even my last opened page is a comic page, continue reading then—whoops, LINE notification, guess I will check LINE first. I replied all the chats; last night’s and recent’s, including the sweet good morning chat from my girlfriend. Hell I miss looking on her face, but looking at her profile picture and her photos feels almost the same. Okay, I am sticking my eyes with my phone showing her photos for a while.

Now let’s do some scrolling and liking. To my surprise, I got to the last night posts within seconds, which I have liked them all. Well, not so much to see in the morning. I just remembered that people tend to post their photos or videos in the afternoon or in the evening, because they get more likes. No, I do not assume, I know, my friends told me it is the strategy of posting on Instagram. My friends also told me this other strategy of Instagram: like all of your friends’ posts because they will like your posts back. It is called symbiotic mutualism, like that particular fish—I forgot the name—and the sharks have. As for me, I do not follow the strategy, no. I post whenever I feel like it, and I like posts because I LIKE them. I am not one of the fish.

As I dive through Instagram’s explore section, my Path notification shows up, tells me Radityo is listening to a mainstream song, too mainstream that I remembered to always switch the channel whenever the song came up on the radio. I click on the notification to get me into Path. I kind of liked Path, because people could update what they are listening to, and sometimes I discovered new good artists or albums I never listened to, but nowadays my Path friends seems to only listen to the same music every day, like this Radityo. I guess I need to update a song that my friends never heard of, some kind of “this is real music” thing.

I get back to LINE, visiting the timeline. It used to be a nice place, where the posts were only my friends’—the game posts were still annoying, though, but since LINE added the not-so-official account feature AND the ‘share’ button around two years ago, people could easily share other people’s posts, and it gets more and more annoying every day. My friends shared mostly quotes; relationship quotes, sad quotes, and—oh! And share-this-if-you-love-your-mother posts. I often like the last one. I want my mother know that I love her very much, and everybody else should like posts like that too. Show your mother some love. Be like me.


All of them are annoying. Maybe not all, I mean sure, there are still good posts; funny pictures and videos, music and movie updates, and informative articles. But posts like that are minorities. According to the spontaneous research in my head, it’s 5:1 with good posts on the latter.

I have no idea why my friends like to share unimportant things; like they are not worse enough to listen to mainstream songs, like do they ever think—oh look at the hour! It is five to one already? Feels like only been seven or maybe eight minutes though. I have assignments to do. Assignment plus s is plural, which means I am in confusion of deciding which one I should work on first. I have this syntax paper, this prose paper, and this writing assignment that requires me to write—of course—in a minimum of eight hundred words about my generation. I know nothing about my generation, honestly. I do not live to my generation standards, I guess. How am I supposed to write about things I know nothing about? What am I supposed to—oh maybe, maybe I should write about how they are addicted to gadgets. Yeah they are addicted. They could spend hours just for chatting. Hell, even the first thing they do when they woke up in the morning is checking their gadgets. Okay, guess I could work with that. Now I should—ah, about time my girlfriend send me Snapchat.

Word Count: 1015 words.


Someone’s Wednesday morning.

Bella Twins theme song:

Their fight:

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