Spring came, rain fell...

The Part of the Freeway that Always Wakes Me Up

2011-02-22T16:46:00.002+07:00

The part of the freeway where the weather dropped cold around the mountains with the lushful meadows on their peak waked me up. With my eyes half closed, I tried to find a blanket or a jacket or anything to keep my body warm but my hand found nothing I can put on.

I was going to mumble, asking for your hug like a spoiled kid asking for his mum to lullaby him to sleep before I realized I was on a shuttle car going away from you and the town you can't run from.

The Wind that Shook the Oak Tree

2010-12-28T14:34:00.004+07:00

The breeze suddenly went colder, dropping fifteen degrees making him putting on another blanket just to keep his body warm.

A storm is coming, said the weatherman, and it's safer to stay at home.

He turned the TV off. There was not much that he could hear at that time. The wind blew strong, shaking the oak tree near the window, making loud swooshing sound while the leaves were being swept away.

He took a sip from a cup of hot earl gray tea he prepared before. He felt warm. But his heart was tired. For sacrificing too much he didn't know for what.

2010-04-25T16:15:00.000+07:00

Walking under the shade of the withering trees, our feet swept the dropping leaves on the ground. We should do this more often.

The Lightning Strikes and the Flashing Sky

2010-04-15T20:47:00.009+07:00

They both saw the lightning, the thunder that ripped the silence in the air, giving it a slight disturbance, a whole new meaning.

From their own window, they witnessed the lights flashing in the sky. They remembered one night when they were walking home. They were crossing a big field of grass, under the same flashing sky caused by roamed lightning before it rained.

They stopped walking and saw the lightning danced in the sky. So they danced. No one was around the neighborhood so they were not embarrassed of doing it. To dance underneath the flashing sky.

They pretended to dance actually, since none of them were a good dancer. So they did an awkward waltz, and swing, and she stepped on his feet and fell on him. They laughed. They laughed hard. They laughed until the lightning stroke somewhere near them so hard they jumped of the grasses and ran, ran and laughed and held hands and laughed more when the rain started pouring down near her apartment.

That night in her apartment, they sat by the window and watched the raindrops together. The cold weather frosted the window, leaving dews dripping down for them to watch in silence. The silence broke her heart, so he hugged her from the back and made her felt better.

He wrote their names on the dewy window while she drew a heart by the corner. Their fingers met and they held hands together.

“Never let me go,” she said. “I won’t.” He said. There was confidence in his word that secured her, made her smile while putting his right palm between her left cheek and shoulder. He smiled too, and closed his eyes and smelled her hair. He rubbed his nose on her hair and loved how her shampoo smelled.

Three years later, they watched the lightning strikes and the flashing sky from the back of their own window. She began to wonder, did he miss her the way she miss him now? He asked himself the same question to her while trying to remember what her shampoo smell but he failed.

They heard a roar of thunder. And none of them knew the answer.

The Boat and the Water Ripples

2009-12-27T20:04:00.001+07:00

Apparently, we’re on the same boat.

We don’t know for how long we've been stranded here, stuck in the middle of the ocean listening to the sound of the waves and the ripples for days and days pushing us farther to forget about the sound of the car-horns in traffics and the noises that come out from the keyboard when we’re typing words. We even fail to recall the sound of the barking dog echoing in the Abbey Road.

For how long we don’t know.

Apparently, we’re on the same boat.
We sit on the side of the boat facing each other without saying a word. The silence revolves into a comfortable situation which we finally get used to. We feel content as it slowly fills the empty space and sits together with us.
We look into each other’s eyes and found nothing but only the reflection of ourselves. Yours in mine and mine in yours. Like seeing ourselves in front of a mirror.
There are only two of us now.

Why did they leave? Or maybe we’re the one forcing them to leave?
I don’t care for the answer. I’m not hoping for any answer. I don’t even want you to answer.
I put up my left hand with my palms open, reaching you. But you hesitate. Your right hand never meets my left.
You take a sigh and look into the lake. Please bring me to the coast, you said, while my left hand is still hanging silently in the air.

Then I paddle. The boat moves and the water ripples.

2007-08-09T22:33:00.000+07:00

...oh my God, I can't write stories anymore!

*after 30 minutes trying-to-think-about-something-to-write but just staring-at-the-blank-monitor-screen

The Tear that Falls on the White Rose

2007-07-24T13:13:00.000+07:00

He sat there at the playground. No, it supposed to be a playground, with the swingers and the merry-go-round. They told him so. But it was never built that way. Now it was just a parking area with all the colorful pavements. They removed the grasses and the shrubs, leaving just an oak tree behind. Instead of swingers and a merry-go-round, they just built the rounded bench around the tree for people to sit.

And there he sat, waiting for her.

The wind that night was never that cold, the shimmering lights that night was never that odd. Somehow it gave him the dim shade colors of blue and purple. Despite of all the people surrounding him or just passing by, he felt lonely and deserted, and thought that he just the only person there. Even the negative hollows, the spirits that take the enthusiastic and optimism from people when they flies through people’s body, couldn’t make him more pessimistic: he was negative already.

That night, he wanted to end it. The love he found but could never be hold, he wanted to it. He couldn’t stand the feeling of being neglected and being fooled around. Did she neglect him? Did she fool him around? She left him with doubted and wandered thoughts, and he tired with that kind of uncertainty.

He prepared a romantic goodbye; he brought a white rose because he couldn’t find a pink carnation that she loves very much. He intended to propose her, and he knew somehow the answer was going to be a big ‘NO’. He believed the ‘NO’ answer will end the uncertainty, and it would be a sign for him to leave her and move on. Maybe he would find another girl or maybe he would cry and regret the things he had done. But it was the only way, at least he thought it was.

He closed his eyes. All the vague memories he had with her just came, and gushing out like water stream in a river. Her touch, her scent, her kiss, everything he had with her. In his mind he saw a goodbye, and it made him wanted to cry. He opened his eyes to stop him thinking. He tried to drive the thoughts away, so he counted the stars like the way he used to do.

And there he sat, waiting for her.

* * *

She had enough. They argued again the night before, and he messed up again. She tired herself with the drama she had with him and the guy she had been with at the moment.

But she knew she never wanted to end it, she knew she never wanted to have enough with him. They were a perfect match. They talked together, they laughed together, they dreamt about the time when they would live together in a cheap apartment he would buy in Paris. The awful thing was, she knew she loved him much much more than anything. If he appeared just for a second, she found it enough just to make her rest of the day brighter.

But she had enough. She wanted to end up with him.

No, if I love him, why I should stop this love-train we ride? Oh, God, why can’t I be with him, or should I just be with him, the unconvinced question once again came to her mind.

She prayed to God, should I stop this? I wanted to be with him, just please give me one sign so I’m sure that he’s the one, he’s the one I’m looking for.

It was the only best she could do, hoping that God would be kind and showed her a sign, an indication so she could be with him. Maybe forever. So she waited and waited for a long time, but God wasn’t that good-hearted enough; she didn’t see a thing that could prevent her from saying goodbye. Still, she wasn’t willing to let him go, but she didn’t have any choices. She gathered all the courage she had and stood up. She had to go, she would meet him there, at the supposed-to-be playground place. He told her so. She walked. Her steps were heavy carrying the sadness of letting him go.

Before she came there and meet him, she cried.

She cried that night.

* * *

Finally she came up. He felt the love they have, but he forced the feeling to disappear.

She sat beside him and said nothing. He noticed how cold she was, and he began to think about the option of she hate her enough now and wanted to stop the love they both had, especially after the arguing last night.

‘I’m sorry for last night, I messed up, once again I’m letting you down,’ he said it with his very apologies. He turned around and tried to look her in the eye, but she didn’t. She just stared at a spot in front of her and trying to be tough. Every goodbye wasn’t meant to be easy, she knew that and she was prepared for another one now.

‘It’s okay. I’m okay now,’ another cold answer slipped from her mouth. And his heart broke. Yes, it was the goodbye he wanted, but it seemed that he didn’t have to run his scenario to leave: she was ready to leave him.

Despair met his eyes. He took a peek on the white rose he brought to stir its glance away. His right hand got the flower, and he gave it to her. There was no conversation, and he knew he didn’t have to say a thing. When can people say goodbye to the one they love, because their hearts shattered, left the minds with questions and the answers they didn’t want to hear, and made them couldn’t think clear enough just to find a words to say.

* * *

She didn’t know what to say. Her heart filled her with thoughts of leaving, made her couldn’t look him in the eye because she knew she could have drowned once again in the love he had in his eyes.

‘I’m sorry for last night, I messed up, once again I’m letting you down,’ she heard that soft voice once again through her ears, the voice that used to wake her up in the morning.
‘It’s okay. I’m okay now,’ should I leave him? She looked down at the pavement, Oh, God, just give me one sign so I could be with him.

And there is the moment when he gave her the rose with his right hand, one of the hands that used to hold her close enough she could felt his heart beating for her. She picked the white rose, and it made her trembled. Could this be the sign she had been waiting for? Yes, it was the sign that she wanted, just a single excuse so she could be with him.

All the doubtful thoughts disappeared. At the exact moment, she only was sure of one thing: she loved him.

She looked him in the eye and saw that lovely eyes again, the eyes that made all the toughness she gathered for the goodbye suddenly gone. She loved him so much and now she had found the reason for him to stay. She just didn’t realize that he loved her more than she ever knew.

Her eyes couldn’t hold the gleaming tears they had inside. A tear dropped on her face, running through the surface of her cheeks, and fell on the white rose.

* * *

The Love Ecstasy

2007-07-18T16:22:00.000+07:00

{ just take the love ecstasy
because the moment you sober
is the moment you think }

- End -

PS: I'm okay, really.

The Old Rusty Piano and The Pink Ballet Shoes (pt. 2)

2007-07-16T13:28:00.000+07:00

We are a perfect lover. We don’t always be together. But the important thing is we know we love each other.

I marry you in a small chapel at the outskirts of the town. It has a small garden, and it’s perfect for our small garden party. We invite our friends, only the closest one, and our family. They smile happily, they can see the happily-ever-after in our eyes.

On the happiest day of our life, we’re dancing at the front. You look beautiful in your white wedding gown. You say that I’m gorgeous in that white tux. I hold your body close to mine, and we slowly dance, enjoying the elapsing moments, the seconds that move slowly when we are together. And suddenly you cry on my shoulder. I don’t say a thing, it’s an I-glad-I-found-you tears, and I don’t really need to say a thing. You can feel my heart beating the same thoughts, but I couldn’t cry in front of you or this people. I act to be tough, but still I shiver.

Then we go to travel agent, looking for some place to have a honeymoon on…

Where do you wanna spend our honeymoon? I ask you.
I don’t need a honeymoon, I just need to be with you, you reply.
I smile.

So, we don’t take the honeymoon trip, since we don’t really need one: everyday is a honeymoon day for us. Both of us take a week off from the work so we really could be together. We’ll open the wedding present, and surprised by it. There are black lingerie (why don’t you put it on?), a coffee maker (we already have one),

It’s just the time when we’re making love all day or just laying naked on the bed without thinking about what time is now and we have to go to work and else so we don’t really have to get up. We just lay there nakedly and hold each other’s body. But then it’s noon already and we’re hungry, so we decided to wake up and cook chicken cordon blue together.

You are happy. I am as pleased as you are. We are the happiest newly-wed couple for the entire history in the universe.

Few weeks later, you come to me with the brightest smile in your eyes and excitedly run to me and say,
We’re gonna have a girl!
And we spend the rest of the day clinging to each other, talking about the name of the baby, while I softly embrace your belly.

* * *

We have two kids, Nina and Ksatria. Nina was born two years earlier before Ksatria. She is an active and cheerful, and has a very attractive smile that makes everyone happy until the end of the day…

…she has wonderful smile like yours, I said it to you.
You smiled.
I watched your smile, Yeah, she really smiles just like you….

…while Ksatria is a calm, a little bit shy I think, but genius in the way he thinks. He loves reading and gets good grades academically.

…and he will have your beautiful eyes that I love, you interrupted.
I looked at you, and smiled.

We want them to follow our line of profession. You want Nina to be a lawyer just like you, while I hope Ksatria want to be an architect like I was. It’s okay though if they don’t want to, we won’t push them anyway. But we don’t really need to push them, they are the one who want to be like us. Nina admires the way you defend the innocent one, and Ksatria loves to sketch any view he sees. One day, he will sketches us sitting on the bench beneath the Eifell tower and gives it as a present for our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary.

Every afternoon, we gather on the usual bench beneath the Eiffel. Both of us are from our office, while Nina from her ballet class, and Ksatria from his piano class. We eat the sandwiches I bought at the bakery not faraway from there, then walking home together. Sometimes we sing and laugh, don’t care whether the other pedestrian are looking at us or not. What a perfect family we have.

At night, all of us sit on the sofa with our white bathrobe, watching the drama on the soap opera, laughing at the jokes, tell the special incident we had today like the fat girl who fell in love with Ksatria, or the handsome brother Nina’s ballet-class friend has. Then we put our masker together, which surprised the pizza-delivery guy when Ksatria opened the door.

Sometimes we ask Nina’s boyfriend or Ksatria’s girl to come and have a dinner with us. But since they don’t have any, we just eat together as a family. Sometimes before we sleep, Nina and Ksatria put on a show for us. They turn off the lights, leaving one-two bulbs spot lights on the wall. Ksatria plays the old piano, it’s one of the romantic songs he made before. I bought the old piano on the second-handed store. It was rusty and had this dust and spider web all over it, but it still good though. I can’t afford something more expensive but I want Ksatria to have his own piano on his seventh birthday. But it turns out that he really loves it, no matter how cheap the cost is or how dreadful it looks. The only thing that matter is how his father loves him and the way he plays the piano.

After thirty seconds of minor 7th melodies he made himself, the music takes a pause for a moment, and continues as Nina comes in and does the ballet. She fall in love with ballet when we took her watching your old friend performance in the theater building near our apartment, and she shouted excitedly when she looked a pair of pink ballet shoes in her birthday-box present from you. And now just look how elegantly she moves, while she only twelve years girl.

We never thought the presents would turn them to be like this. We hold hands and cry…

I stopped. You cried. I watched closely, yes, it is the dripping tears from your eyes. I panicked for a while, held you near and wiped the tears away,
…why do you cry, dear? You don’t like the story?
You don’t answer, you just cried on my shoulder.
Come, come, there’s no such thing for you to cry about.
You sobbed, no, it’s the future that I want to have with you…
And there was a slight moment of pause in my breath, a moment of emptiness of air in my lung, the moment that made me realized how you really really love me.
Finally I got a grip of myself, said nothing but continued the story…

Yes, their performance is fantastic. We cry our happy tears, and they love to see us happy like that. But it’s night already so we take them on their rooms, and kiss them goodnights. We get into our room too, maybe we’ll make love before we sleep, or reading the books first then sleep. We don’t forget to kiss each other and saying ‘I love you’s.

That night and the same other nights, we sleep with that happy smile in our faces,
what a perfect family we have.

* * *

The Cheap Apartment We Live In (pt.1)

2007-07-09T12:45:00.000+07:00

We are a perfect match. You love me very much. I love you even more.

We live in a cheap apartment in the suburbs not faraway from Paris downtown. Its color is between brown and beige, but it has more yellow. I chose the place when we arrived there because I like the color. You even like it more because it has this golden shine when the setting sun hits the wall directly.

We do the same ritual in the morning. You wake up first and kiss me, then make two coffees for both of us. The smell of the coffees wakes me up. I get up and give you a good-morning kiss then put the strawberry jam on the breads. Sometimes it’s the peanut butter or just a slice of cheese in between the breads. We eat it and drink the coffee together while watching the morning news. We laugh on the silly gossip. You go to bath. We take turn, sometimes we bath together.

We already dress neatly with the office suits. I put beige cardigan outside my white shirts and have my black scarf on my neck. You have the black blazer suit and the beige scarf around your neck. Yes, we are a perfect match.

We take the elevator to the ground floor. We look at each other at the front door. I look at you on my right. You look at me on your left. We smile, we kiss. We luck each other then be apart. I go to the left. You go to the right. Our offices are on the different directions. Mine is a local newspaper office located near to the south while yours is an international law-firm on the north near the Eiffel. They’re not far away though.

I take my bicycle at the parking area on the garden beside the apartment. It’s old, classic, slim, and tall black bike that I love very much. I don’t drop you at the office; you ride on trams. We don’t have a lunch together. But it’s okay anyway, since we usually still busy with the works on the lunch hour.

I finish my work at four, and ride on my bike to your office. It almost takes twenty minutes to go there. You finish your work at five which means that I still have an hour to get to you. It doesn’t that tiresome riding that bicycle in Paris. The views are great, I can sight-seeing while riding, and it never bores me.

You wait for me at the usual bench in the park beneath the Eiffel. I park the bike and have hops on the pavements, trying not to step on the mat. You see me come, and smile happily.
Do I make you wait long, honey? I asked.
You answered, I don’t mind waiting forever for you.

The reply blushes me. We have a peck and a conversation or two while sitting on the bench beneath the Eiffel. I open the paper bag and take the sandwiches I bought for us. You love it. I love seeing your smiling eyes while eating it. And the pedestrians passing over have their eyes at us, some of them almost crying as if they see a romantic scene happens on the bench with the Eiffel on the background. Some envy on how we spend the time together with a smile on each other face.

When it’s almost dark, we go home walking. I walk alongside the bike, on the left, while you walk on its right. We grasp our pinkie together, my right and your left. You swing the grasp so it has the perfect rhythm with our walking.

We arrive on the apartment. I park the bike, you wait at the door. Then we steps on the entrance stairs and walked into the elevator. We’re home already.

What will we do in the night? You asked me.
Hmm… I don’t know, but let’s continue the story…

It’s seven already. I throw myself onto the sofa. You throw yourself onto me. I put the TV on with the remote. We watch our favorite soap opera. We laugh. We hug. We kiss. We just lay there on the sofa. You decide to take bath. Sometimes we bath together. But usually I wait for my turn and cleaning the mess first: our shoes, bags, papers, documents, put it on the right place.

After I took the shower, we’re back together again on the sofa, just sitting there still with our white bathrobe. Tonight you don’t do the take-home works. You just sit there with your masker on. You put the masker on my face too. Now we just like silly green aliens on their white robes who surprise the pizza-delivery guy when you open the door. I order it because you’re hungry again.

You eat quite lot but never get fat. I envy you somehow, I said.
I hear you chuckles, if you don’t want the pizza, I’ll eat it all.
Then I eat my slice, No, thanks, I’m hungry too.

After eating, you put the cucumber slices on your eyes. But I don’t; I want to watch the night news. You hear it too. We comment the news and laugh.

Hours later, we’re on the bedroom. It’s not that elegant, but still has the comfortable atmosphere. You’re lying on the bed. I walk to the corner and turn on the old gramophone I bought at the garage sale. The plates are the classic sixties-swing. Sometimes we dance together. Some other times, we just hear it while reading the novels or making love.

You stop reading and put the novel on the desk on your side of the bed. You turn off the reading lamp on the desk.
You kissed me, Do you want to sleep now? You asked.
I’ll have another chapter, dear. I’m still drowning in my reading, I don’t even turn around.

There’s a moment of upsetting on your face but you’re understand it already. I love reading and writing, that’s why I gave up the architect profession just to take the job I always wanted to have, works on local newspaper.

…I’ll have sleep first then. Goodnight dear, don’t stay up too long, you drive the upsetting thoughts from your mind.

I, get sober, stop reading. I look at your back. I place the page-marker on the page, close the book, and turn off my reading lamp. I put the book on the desk on my side of the bed and move towards your back,
Goodnight, dear.
I kiss your hair. You turn around and placed my hand underneath your neck so I can hug you.

We hug each other, and not long enough fall asleep at the same time as the city descends and rests its emotion into the shadow of the night.

* * *

The Other Guy

2007-07-04T21:46:00.000+07:00

I have all the things that he doesn’t have,

but he only has one thing that I don’t have.

And it's the only thing that does matter.

If only you would see how good-looking I am in that black outfit.

If only you would see how I comb my hair neatly because you always said that it’s messy.

If only we would spend this Saturday night together.

If only you could hear my new story I prepared for you.

If only I could give you the pink carnation. I bought it this morning so it could be such a surprise for you when we meet. But we don’t meet at all. You cancelled it because he’s there at your house.

I was ready leaving the house with that black outfit, combed hair, the pink carnation. I stand for a moment in front of the closed gate. The flower is still fresh and I want to give it to you tonight. It might have been lifeless tomorrow. I don’t even know whether we meet tomorrow or not.

Should I just put the flower outside your door? No, he might have a look at it and it will be such a problem then for you.

Darn it…

I throw the flower into the garbage pot then light a cigar I take from my pocket. I walk nowhere, giving up the option to where my both feet take me to.

I take a mouthful smoke from the cigar, then breathe it out completely out of my lung.

…goddam it.

* * *

The Thousand Kisses

2007-07-01T21:15:00.000+07:00

Another cloudy afternoon, it had been like this since few days before. I looked down again and watched the road I walked. The quality of the blacktop surely wasn’t that good. There were bumps everywhere. I never like road like this, it made me had to look down, concentrating on which step I had to take so I didn’t slip my feet or fell just because of the bumps. The second reason was I couldn’t enjoy the scenery of the sky and guess the shape of the cloud at that time.

It was because I have to look down.

It was two good reasons for me not liking the road, I think. But more and more I think of it, it was a bit of denial. The two reasons were acceptable and not quite enough for me to make it such motives. I didn’t even care about the cloud, or the dusty field, or the slope, or the bumps.

The reason why I don’t like walking down there was because I felt it was a bit lonely walking there alone. It made the road seems far enough. The funny thing was I never think it was that long when I walked along with you; the distance just shrinks and the time flies by.

It was because of you.

I yielded and sighed, but continued walking there.

* * *

There were kids playing hide and seek when I pass through there. Oh, how I missed the time when I played the game every afternoon with my friends when I was a child. I saw one hiding at the back of the pick up. He watched me moved alongside the car, put his finger in front of his finger and made a quiet ‘Sssh!’ to me. I smiled. But then I thought if the seeker saw me smiling, he may be interested with the back of the pick-up. I look around, the seeker was in front of me, but he didn’t look at me. He was looking the other direction, so I just look forward again to save the hiding kid.

The sound of laughing, running steps, and yelling from behind followed me into the alley, making reverberation voices as if they were for me. The rough-plastered walls didn’t absorb them at all. The voices kept replicating to direction I walked. Or maybe they were following me intentionally?

I took the right turn and kept walking until I saw your door, opened. I saw you in there, sitting in the sofa. You look pretty with your dress and perfectly fine with your astonishing smile.

So, you were waiting for me.

I didn’t know since when but I noticed that all the voices were gone, completely disappear.

* * *

‘I’m sorry. Will you forgive me?’

‘Sorry for what? There’s nothing to apologize for.’

‘I’m sorry for the day when I canceled the meeting.’ You looked me into the eye, and somehow it was shivering me.

I smiled, ‘It’s okay. I’m not mad at you. It was a grief though.’

‘Aw, I’m sorry dear, really. Just stop pretending it was okay, I know it’s irritating you.’

‘Okay, okay. I forgive you if you give me a kiss.’

‘I’ll give you thousand kisses.’

All of sudden, you kissed me. The moment just lasted for a second, but it was enough for making me feel the warm emotion flowing from your lips to mine. I was surprised; I didn’t see the kiss coming.

‘So, am I being forgiven now?’ You look at me again.

I, sat there beside you, still in the stunned position, gave you the strange look. I still didn’t believe how you had kissed me.

Did she just kiss me?

It was a shocking certainty, legitimating the facts that love has come and spread it wings once again. Yet, I still sat there with that stupid I-don’t-believe-it looks.

You chuckled, laughing at me.

‘Ha ha, what’s with the looks? And am I being forgiven or not?’

‘…I was waiting for the next nine-hundred-and-ninety-nine kisses actually.’

‘Ha ha,’ you kissed me again.

‘Okay, I forgive you. Nine-hundred-and-ninety-eight kisses more, if you don’t mind?’

You laughed then put your hands on my cheeks. Once again you give that loving look that made me as frail as thin glass then suddenly shattered and broke into pieces. It was the indication of a love symptom. And both of us were infected.

‘You’re a really funny guy, don’t you know that?’ (peck) ‘And I like you.’

‘Fair enough, since I like you to.’

Nine-hundred-and-ninety-seven kisses to go.

* * *

The Seething Rain Weeps You

2007-06-26T15:38:00.000+07:00

He doesn’t know what to feel. If it’s not anger, then maybe it’s grief.

He already arrived there when the message come. Standing there with all the rain showering at his black umbrella, he gives empty looks at the sloping road. It is the road to her home. He just has to walk for a hundred meters or two, and opens the gate and knocks the door like he used to do. But the sudden arrival of the message anguishes him, makes him feels so desperate just to think about what decision he should make.

Should he continue to walk there, or should he turn his back and crossing the road walking home, he doesn’t know. The first option seems very satisfying for him, but it’s the second one he takes.

So he turns and starts walking. The rain drops madly, and somehow it makes him melancholy. Maybe it’s just the accumulation of the sadness feeling; he used to think but he tries not to think with her.

He tries to think nothing, and he does think nothing, except the sound of Louise Louisa starts playing on his mind. It was the silly companion (no, he doesn’t think it’s silly at all), the comfort and the emotion, and the slow motion moments. It was the overcast room, and the chuckles, and the beating. It was everything.

It is everything.

He remembered how dark the room was, but he could recognize her figure very well. He remembered how she lay down on the bed while he softly whispered the words through her ear:

Stay with me, don’t want to be, alone…

But now, he just walks back home. The heavy rain disturbs him, but not quite to make him hate it. The umbrella shields him from the raindrops. It’s not that big though, his shoulders wet already.

He looks up and watches the back of the umbrella, and thinks about something,

Yeah, it only fits for one person down here…

So he continues walking home, alone.

The Colorful Cinema and The Perished Dream

2007-06-20T12:04:00.000+07:00

The Colorful Cinema

We walked passing the food court, the place was very inconvenient with bright orange and green everywhere. They told me why it is very inconvenient – they made it like that. I told you why it is very inconvenient: they made it like that. We walked passing the posters, we entered the cinema lobby.
You asked, ‘What date is it? Is it eight already?’
I looked at the date on the display on my cell phone and answered, ‘Yep, June 8 it is.’
And then you said, ‘Oh, there’s the film.’
And I said, ‘Where?’
You said, ‘Studio 2.’
And I just said, ‘Oh.’

The cinema was quite empty. There wasn't many people there.
‘Shall we buy the ticket?’
I looked at the schedule behind the cashier, ‘It’s still an hour again though.’
You insisted on buying it first, ‘Let’s just buy it and then take a walk outside.’
We bought the ticket, twenty-five thousands each. I gave her the money. She gave me the tickets. I gave you the tickets. But you give it back to me (‘I’m afraid I’ll forget where I put it’). So I put it in my bag, at the back of The Short History of Tractors in Ukrainian.
‘Just remember that it’s at the back of the novel.’
‘I’ve told you that I’m a forgetful person.’
‘We’ll see about that later.’ I smiled.
You smiled. I looked your smile. It was a stunningly gorgeous smile. And I could felt the time abruptly elapsing in slow motion, making me could see your every slight movements from your feet until the hair. The sound suddenly disappeared – I heard nothing except my own heart beating.

This was the time when the dramatic moment comes in film, like when Neo dodging the bullet. I could even amplify it with such black-and-white picture, but I choose it remained in colors. I remember, the lobby was shady red with blue and white signs. Your hooded t-shirt was green. I wore a yellow t-shirt with a beige cardigans on. My pupils were grey while yours were brown. Our jeans were a matching blue. I really enjoyed it until right after you really knocked the sub-consciousness out of me, by simply just saying,

‘Let’s go outside and find a place to sit.’
I sobered. ‘Okay,’ followed with a peculiar act in just a milliseconds time.

Luckily you didn’t notice.

* * *

The Perished Dream

So there we were, outside, trying to find a place to sit. I saw couples walking by holding each other hands. I saw it but think nothing. Did I try to think nothing or did I think nothing, I wasn’t quite sure.

Anyway then you said, ‘How about… there?’
And I said, ‘Where?’
You fingered, ‘There.’
And I just said, ‘Oh.’

We walked into the front of the Japanese restaurant. It has this big log at the façade for the waiting list. But we sat there and people passing by watched us like we were some sort of weird couple smoking there at the display. Maybe they considered us as a part of the unusual display, especially when you put my big headphones on. I wanted you to hear my other band songs. It was semi-acoustic one. I played the bass but sing few songs too.

And you realized, ‘Could this voice be… yours? It’s good…‘

I turned my head around trying to look the other way to keep you from seeing my blushing cheeks. But you realized. You teased me, I blushed. And after me begging you to stop teasing, we talked and talked again.

You talked about your perished dream, ‘Have you watched Great Expectations?’
‘Yes. You like it so much, do you?’
‘I still played the movie every week.’
‘Why are you quitting for just some silly reasons?’
‘I don’t know. I just quitted. I don’t even want to try it again.’

The voice was a soft trembling voice. I saw the look of sorrow in your eyes. You tried to deny yourself how you wanted to paint no more. But you could never lie; when we talked you always talked about the paintings, your paintings. You talked about the smiling faces seeing your paintings.

I gave an empty stare at the fountain in front of us, imagining the smiling faces of them when they look at the picture. I took a glance at your face; there goes the lovely face when you said much about paintings and drawings. So how could you say that you don’t even want to do that again?

You talked about the canvas and the crayon. I stared back at the fountain, listening the rest of the story. Then the gardeners came with a bucket full of flowers. They put the freshly-picked flower blooms into the fountain. I don’t know what the name of the flowers was, maybe you know it. You were the one who always wanted to have a flower shop. Maybe I’ll ask you later.

I wanted to go to the gardener that held the bucket and asking for a flower to give to you. But it was very harsh thing to do in the middle of you talking about your dreams. I considered doing it later and postponed the action. Which later I did and you kept the flower. Do you still keep it today? I don’t know but I hope so.

You talked about the picture of your ex,
‘It was when this meeting, we gathered around in a circle and on that time he was right there in front of me. I was so boring, I started to draw his face on my book unintentionally (I just considered him as a friend that time, though.). Later he asked me out, and so on, and then we were a couple. I gave the picture to him, he was quite happy and put it on the fridge.’

‘Haha, so just give your drawing of my face later, okay?’ I tried to tease you.
‘Well, okay, maybe you’ll become the first one I’ll draw after a long time.’

I turned around, trying to find a joking tone or even a mockery one but couldn’t find it in that sturdy looks in your eyes looking straight to the front. I didn’t know what you stared at, but one thing I did know was you weren’t joking, you weren’t teasing, you weren’t even trying to be cynical or something. Was it a sign, a green light, a candle in the dark that you’re trying to give me? Or it’s just a bundle of your last hope that you’re trying to fortitude?

I answered shortly, ‘…I’ll put it on my fridge.’
And suddenly I felt like I became the teased one.

* * *

We stood back, grabbed the bags, and started to walk inside.
‘Red or white?’ I asked you suddenly.
‘White,‘ you said to me.
So I came to the fountain and picked the one of the white blooms from the fountain.
‘For you,‘ I gave the flower to you.
‘Thank you,’ you opened your right palm, it was dirty, ‘Oh, my hands are so dirty, sorry.’
‘It’s okay. Maybe it’s because of the log. Look at my palm; it’s the same like yours.’

‘What is the flower’s name?’
‘I don’t know any flowers name – you’re the one who wanted to be a florist anyway.’
‘Haha, I don’t know either.’
‘White, huh? Could it be tulips?’
‘No, it’s not.’
‘…lilies?’
‘I don’t think so.’
‘I don’t know anymore name of white flowers.’
‘If it’s red then you’ll consider it as a rose?’
‘Maybe.’
'Ha ha..'

The automatic doors opened. We walked in and went up by the escalator until the top floor. We walked passing the food court, the place is very inconvenient with bright orange and green everywhere. You told me why it is very inconvenient – they made it like that. I laughed and said, ‘I feel a strong sense of dejavu… could it be we already have been here together on the past life?’

You chuckled. There goes the chuckle again, I said it in my mind. I chuckled.
We walked passing the posters, we entered the cinema lobby. We bought popcorn caramel and ice lemon tea. The cashier gave us the popcorn,
‘…is this it?’
‘Why?’
’They gave much much more at Blitz.’
‘Oh, the popcorn? Haha, you’re a silly popcorn boy..’
‘…but you ate it too before, right?’
‘But I’m not making such mess like the way you ate it.’
‘Okay, I’m not going to share it with you..’
‘Hey, this time I’m the one buying it.’
‘I don’t care.’

It was just a silly childish game we played. The cashier seems to look at us and worried whether we would make a ruckus right in front of the popcorn machine beside her table. Then we laughed.

We waited for a while – the doors hadn’t been opened yet. It wasn’t that much people waited in front of the studio. Even for the premiere of the film.
‘I wonder why there’s just a little people here…’
‘Maybe because of it’s Friday?’
‘Hey, it’s Friday night..’
‘We have six-day work. Luckily my college has five so I could spend the Saturday sleeping for the rest of the day.’
‘You lazy bum.’
‘Can’t help it, sleeping is one of human basic needs.
‘Haha, there’s a good point, clever one.’
‘Thank you, I’ll take that as a compliment.’

The conversation stopped because the door was finally opened. We waited for people getting in for a moment, and got ourselves in after no more people out there. I gave the tickets to the checker. She ripped the half of the tickets. She gave the rest of the tickets to me. I gave one of the tickets to you.
‘Choose one.’
You raised your eyebrows, ‘Why didn’t you keep it?’
‘Be romantic, okay? Keep it as a memorabilia of our date.’
‘Haha, okay.’

You picked the right one. I looked at the ticket, C-8, which meant that you got C-7. Hmm, I wanted to have the number seven, but it was okay anyway.

We looked at each other, smiled. I nodded my head a little to the left, ‘Shall we going in?’
You answered nothing, just smiled pleasingly and going in. It was like such a romantic act - we acted as if you were the Cinderella and I was the Prince Charming asking you to dance down the dancehall.

It wasn’t that much of audience inside the cinema. More than half of the red seats were empty. But I wasn’t surprised about it either. It was Friday afternoon and most of the people still busy in their cubicle working. The audiences there were mostly the teenagers, high school students; maybe they went home first and changing the uniforms right after the school hour was over then came here.

However, I didn’t care if it was empty or full.
As long as you were there with me, I didn’t care if it was empty or full.

* * *

The Date and the Taxi

2007-06-15T20:53:00.000+07:00

..but it’s okay if you couldn’t go there.

I don’t want to disturb the practice.

No, it’s okay.

But your band rehearsal is at eight, right?
(while mine is tomorrow)

Well, I don’t have anything to do NOW.
Can we just make it at two?

Oh, okay. Two o’clock, right?
(hmm..)

Yes, I’ll met you there.

You sure know the way there?
(hmmmmm...)

I’m at Cisitu. I know the way from here.

Okay then, we’ll met there.
(...what clothes will I wear?)

See you there!

See ya..
(…am I REALLY gonna see you?)

I hang up the phone and pull the pillow underneath my head again.
I try to think for a long time, but I couldn’t come up with a thing on my mind except the sound of the clock’s ticking on the wall and the light from the bulb. The light irritates my eyes.

I buried my head underneath the pillow abruptly, trying to plunge some consciousness into the surface.
I couldn’t think about anything and I realize that I have to accept the fact:

Damn it, I’m on a date.

And I can feel the butterfly flying around in my stomach.

* * *

The taxi takes another left turn at the crossroads. It is a lovely Tuesday afternoon with a bit quite cold air and the fresh after-the-rain smell. The driver keeps his eyes on the road, pretending not to hear us chit-chatting, and trying not to see us doing things at the back even though we just sitting like the usual passenger. Until the next red light, the eyes take a look around to see the car passing by from the right to the left.

You keep talking, and somehow I find it very persuasive. I like the pleasant and friendly tone in your voice, deep inside it makes me really think you as an old friend of mine. You begin mumbling a song, a song I know quite well I don’t even know you know it.

And I don’t know what to do, I think I’m in love with you..
(I don’t know the lyrics this part!)
Dududududududu, dududududududu…

Hey, stop it before my face gets red..

Haha.
The song keeps playing inside my mind. I like it.

Really?

Yep. I like the dudududududu part.

Hmm, fair enough,
considering how your dudubdubdub stays on my mind…

(chuckles)

She has the quality of the chuckles that makes you want to try it. We both chuckles. And suddenly I feel sorry because we're gonna be separated for a while.

* * *

Permintaan Maaf

2007-06-11T16:24:00.000+07:00

Dengan penuh itikad baik, saya meminta maaf atas teman-teman dan pihak-pihak yang merasa tersinggung dengan postingan sebelumnya. Saya mengaku salah dengan tidak berpikir panjang dan menggunakan kata-kata tertentu yang membuat beberapa pihak merasa dilecehkan, dirugikan, dan dirusak namanya.

Oleh karena itu. saya mengaku salah dan meminta maaf kepada teman-teman dan pihak tersebut dengan penuh penyesalan dan tidak akan mengulanginya lagi. Saya memang orang yang usil, suka mengurusi kehidupan orang lain, pengecut, pecundang, sampah, dan sebagainya.

Terima kasih atas perhatiannya.

End.

PS: Tidak ada komentar untuk post ini,
apabila ada komentar akan saya hapus dengan segera..

You Are What You Eat: You Write What You Read

2007-06-10T20:46:00.000+07:00

When I did the usual ritual that can lighten me up a little: I go to the rooftop, just lying there on the roof feel the nocturne breeze on my face. It really calmed me down and made my mind abruptly stated a thing that I didn’t realize before: my lack of reading. Both quantity and quality.

It’s already a year or more since I last read a good novel. Come to think of it, the last novel I bought was A Clockwork Orange by Anthony Burgess. It was on April 2006, a year ago. Darn it. I had been too busy to stop by at Tobucil or Omu just to see new books they had on their shelves. Plus since then my (ex)girlfriends didn’t seems like having some good books either.

Indah was an exception. She’s intelligently smart (oh yeah we read Tim Burton’s together). I really enjoy the time when we had the English conversation late at night at her house for hours. Until now, there are only two people I could only have a very comfortable English conversation with: Indah and Maya (it makes me wonder how Maya is doing now, I hope she’s fine though).

My next girlfriend after Indah is smart academically. She, majoring Nursery, had good grades, but I couldn’t seem to find too much similarity in the things we read. All I can think about her books is thick and thicker books about human’s anatomy, or pharmacology, or something like that. She read that every nights, no wonder she had good grades, eh? She had some novels too, she likes reading. But I couldn’t borrow a good novel to read for me. The one and only book I borrow from her is a local-writer’s book about people sending emails, starting to fall in love with each other, and finding themselves couldn’t be together. The book wasn’t too bad, but it wasn’t that good either. I wouldn’t recommend it as a one of the books I like.

The same thing happened with my girlfriend after her. She only had the books and magazines about architecture and interior design stuffs. The good thing is I have the same major with her, so we could read the magazines together and discussing the stuffs we read. It was a really good discussion, but only about the architect’s profession. But no novel, even a science-fiction. No novel at all.

So now I’m trying to feed up my mind by reading few novels I bought but haven’t read it.

To gain my touch of writing too, maybe. There are some lack of quality in my writing now, I think. Although some of my friends said that my writings are good; they think I’m a natural born writer. There’s no such things as natural born something, it’s silly. In the end, it all came up with good books and practice. Maybe it’s kind of silly, but to me, really, I write what I read. You write what you read. If you read good writings then you can be a good writer. Sha, a sweet girl I know, could make fine lyrics because when she has read so many lyrics; she differ the good song from the bad one basically by judging the lyrics.

I don’t want to end up with writings about crapping this or yelling those or angry about this or backstabbing (my friends favorite words, haha.) about that. I read that kind of people's writings too much lately, and I don’t think it’s a good one. I mean, it’s a good way to put up your emotions into the writings, but don't write emotionally. You just trying to embarrass yourself by making people laugh at you. You are rubbish because you write rubbish. I mean, if your writings aren’t good enough, then the books you read aren’t good enough.

And suddenly I feel that I miss QB. Really.

...

Oh my God, what the hell am I writing about?

white is the colour of the despair in her eyes

2007-05-30T17:12:00.000+07:00

I'm scared.
Should I be so scared?

But she's scared. It really kills me when I looked her eyes. She tried so hard not to cry, but the eyes never tells lies: they held mountful of gleaming tears, making a soft stream drowning me deeper and deeper into the sea of sadness in her eyes that I couldn't even know the deepest depth:
she's afraid that she's not going to make it.
I'm afraid that I will think that she's not going to make it.

Don't go, she said to me before entering the room, please stay... She, still lying on the bed, said that to me like it was her last wish, like she said that with her very last breath.
I didn't say athing. No, I couldn't say a thing. I only nodded a little and held her hand. It was so hard for me to hold the tears from falling, especially when I felt the little tremble on her hand. It was shaking: she was trying to fight her apathy with all her courage left, with all her guts that she might had.
But I won't cry for good. I didn't want her to see my cry.

We still held hands while silentness comfortably filled the room, like the shadow crawling from the bottom corner of the wall making the whole room blackened. But the dim light from the bulb was still glowing.

My heart crushed. It was like the shadow climbed from underneath my feet to the toop. The shadow opened my chest and ripped it apart making me could see what lies within: the lungs, the bones, and others. The shadow stopped to look around when it saw my heart. It took out it's black hand slowly then pulled my heart out. I saw blood spilled everywhere, on the floor, walls, on the bed, the white uniforms, on the sad faces, everywhere. But nothing spilled. There were no reds on the floor, walls, on the bed, the white uniforms, on the sad faces. No reds anywhere. But I saw them.

I felt like I was going to collapse. How could I even stood when my heart just being crushed like that?

Had my eyes conceived me, or it's just their eyes lying them, she had to go into the room. Her eyes telling me, No, I don't wanna go there, but she had no choice. She didn't have enogh power left to fight, she stayed still.

The people on the back came forward, leave it at God's hands, and, God be with you! still they said to her. I heard so many God words, but do You really hear their wishes, oh, the One they called God?
I tried to look up but found none except the light and the ceiling.
...I guess I didn't have choice but to trust You.

They pushed her bed into the room. She still held my hand while the bed moved forward. It was the kind of holding you never want to let go. Until the distance forced you, it forced me to let her hands go.

And the door was shut.

Dear Frosti*

2007-05-20T17:09:00.000+07:00

Dear Frosti,

I just like it when you smile,

it drives away her misery for a while.

And I like it when you touch her,

it’s like both of you will stay close like that forever.

I’ve seen her sad a thousand times actually,

but I don’t consider it silly. She’s not a crybaby.

I know that she’s a tough girl,

it’s like nothing underneath the sky can crushes her world.

She’s lonely, like a sheep separated from the shepherd,

Don’t you know that she only wants to be heard?

She’s wanting for someone to have a nice chat on,

while drinking coffee in her room with all the lights on.

Oh Frosti, at the moment you appear,

suddenly she feels everything so clear.

No more despair, gloom, or depression,

you give her the perfect kind of needs and affections.

Don’t you know that her cheeks blush red,

everytime she replies your messages on her bed?

Now she wakes up with a happy face,

the picture of you is the only images she could trace.

Oh, somebody please tell me how juvenile,

how sometimes love can make us run mile and mile.

And when her winter night haven’t still over,

suddenly you make her feel like it's already summer.

I don’t know the messages you sent or how you first met,

but I’m quite sure you still keep it and will never forget.

Just stay beside her, don’t go away,

Make her smile grows bigger, every night and every day…

[Maybe she’s just curious,

Or maybe it’s already conspicuous.

But may the best things come for you,

For both of you.]

*Goodnight Frosti, it has been a pleasure to know such people like you.

*curhat

2007-05-16T20:01:00.000+07:00

Hmmm.
Serba salah.
Mau ketawa, nanti dikira ketawa merendahkan. Padahal memang ingin ketawa karena tidak menyangka komentar yang main-main itu berbuntut serius. Dan bagaimana mereka malah marah-marah dengan serius. Dan bagaimana mereka serius marah-marah karena menganggap saya telah menghina dengan sengaja. Dan bagaimana orang-orang dengan serius menganggap masalah orang lain menjadi masalahnya.
Saya hanya bisa tertawa.

Hmmm.
Serba salah juga.
Mau ketawa, nanti dikira menghina. Tetap saja lucu melihatnya. Katanya sih tidak marah, tapi malah marah-marah. Katanya sih tidak ada masalah, tapi minta maaf malah ditolak. Katanya sih tidak peduli dengan apapun kata orang tentang dia, terus kenapa harus marah-marah kalau begitu? Sudah dibilang tidak sengaja, tetap ngotot dianggap menghina.
Atau memang lebih baik harusnya saya hina ya?
Ah, sudahlah buat apa cari masalah, toh sudah selesai masalahnya.
Atau mungkin di(a)anggap selesai tapi masih jadi masalah ya?
Haha, lucu sekali bagaimana tindakannya selalu berlawanan dengan kata-kata. Tapi kalau saya bilang itu juga, nanti dianggap menghina.
Yah, mungkin hanya orang berpikiran terbuka saja yang mau mendengar kata-kata buruk tentangnya. Kebanyakan anak kecil memang masih labil, mentally, emotionally.

Hmmm.
Serba salah.
Mau nulis ini, salah. Mau nulis itu, salah. Kebebasan berekspresi saya dirampas oleh orang-orang yang terlalu menggunakan perasaan dan menyangkutpautkan tulisan dengan diri sendiri.
Saya jadi tahu perasaan Inul yang selalu diprotes Bang Haji Rhoma kalau bergoyang sedikit saja.
Bisakah saya cuek saja?
Hmm, saya pasti bisa.
Pertanyaannya: bisakah mereka?

Du du, du du du du du du.*

*sumpah, saya tidak mau berniat nyari masalah. Ini sih murni curhat perasaan doang..
** Beck, The New Pollution

Artificial Life, Artificial Friends*

2007-05-15T10:40:00.000+07:00

Gara-gara kejadian akhir-akhir ini dan juga pertemuan kembali dengan seorang lain yang bernama Albert, membawa pikiran saya bertualang ke masa lalu. Seperti membuka laci dan menemukan mesin waktu, mungkin Doraemon yang meletakkannya disitu. Memulai perjalanan pikiran ke masa lalu.

Saya jadi ingat versi berantem anak SMA (dulu namanya masih SMA): tawuran.
Keroyokan vs keroyokan.

Entah kenapa anak SMA kalau berantem senangnya beramai-ramai. Atau sekarang anak SMP juga sudah ikut-ikutan tawuran? Dasar anak kecil yang suka tawuran.
Saya tidak suka tawuran: bikin macet jalan.

Hal yang membuat saya teringat ketika saya SD dulu, ketika saya bertanya kepada Papa,
"Pa, bolehkah saya berkelahi?" Mungkin saya masih belum bisa memutuskan apakah berkelahi itu sesuatu yang buruk atau baik. Bodohnya.

Papa hanya menjawab, "Kamu terlalu kecil untuk berkelahi, nanti saja kalau sudah besar sedikit."

Jawaban yang tidak memuaskan. Jadi pertanyaan itu selalu saya simpan untuk ditanyakan kembali..

..ketika SMA, pertanyaan sama keluar dari mulut saya,
"Pa, bolehkah saya berkelahi?"

Papa yang lagi membaca koran di teras depan menurunkan korannya dan melirik saya.
"Kenapa kamu harus berkelahi?"
"Ada teman yang punya masalah dengan anak sekolah lain. Saya diajakin ikut tawuran."
"Kenapa harus tawuran?"
"...entahlah Pa, memang seperti itu anak SMA sekarang mungkin.."
"Kalau kalian kalah, gimana?"
"Ngg, balas dendam lagi paling nanti."
"Tawuran lagi?"
"Iya."
"Bisa-bisa sekolah kosong kalau kalian tawuran semua. Terus siapa yang belajar? Yang wanita saja?"
"Iya kali, Pa." (diiyain lagi, begonya saya..)

"..."
Kalau teman kamu yang punya masalah, kenapa kamu harus ikut campur? Jangan suka mencampuri urusan orang, itu tidak baik.."
"Tapi nanti namanya nggak setia kawan, Pa. Bisa-bisa saya dimusuhin deh sama anak-anak.."
"Kamu mau nggak sih ikut tawuran sebenarnya?"
"Malas sih Pa."
"Terus kenapa harus ikut?"
"Ngg, atas dasar pertemanan dan setia kawan Pa."
"Terus kalau teman kamu ngajak terjun ke jurang, kamu mau ikutan?"
"Ngg..."
"Kalau misalnya ada yang menantang kamu berkelahi, berkelahilah dengan jantan sebagai lelaki, satu lawan satu. Tapi tidak boleh ada dendam dari pihak yang kalah, dan masalah kalian selesai. Kamu bisa seperti itu?"
"...mungkin?"
"Mungkin? Papa butuh jawaban ya dan tidak, bukan mungkin."
"...nggak kayanya, Pa."
"Ya sudah, kalau begitu kekerasan tidak akan menyelesaikan masalah. Kecuali ada yang bisa tidak mendendam kalau kalah."
"Oh.."
..."

Terus saya harus bilang apa ke teman saya?"
"Bilang saja, selesaikan masalah kamu sendiri, mau berkelahi kek, panco, main karambol, apapunlah. Kalian boleh mendukung dia, tapi jangan suka ikut campur urusan orang, Nak. Kalian sudah dewasa, bukan anak kecil yang suka penasaran sampai-sampai ikut campur urusan orang."
"Kalau dia marah sama saya Pa? Nanti saya nggak dianggap teman lagi."
"Teman sejati nggak sedangkal itu menilai temannya sendiri."
"..."

"Kalau dia nggak mau tahu, ya kamu tinggal cari saja teman yang lebih banyak lagi, susah amat."
"Tapi saya masih nggak tahu mau ngomong apa ke dia, Pa..."

Papa melipat korannya dan menatap saya tepat di mata. Tatapan yang saya suka. Tidak marah karena pertanyaan saya, tidak tertawa karena pertanyaan saya. Tatapan bijaksana mata seorang ayah untuk anaknya...

* * *

"Saya tidak suka berkelahi dan tidak suka melihat kamu berkelahi. Tapi kamu tetap teman saya. Datanglah kepada saya jika kamu terluka, tangan saya akan selalu terbuka."

Ia berkata di perbatasan nada antara kesal dan tenang,
"Kalau emang itu prinsip lo, gue hargain, jangan sampai lo berantem kaya gue. Mending sekarang lo pulang aja ke rumah, nggak usah nungguin kita lagi deh."

Saya tidak mengerti arti kata-kata itu. Tapi saya sudah siap diteriaki atau dimaki-maki lagi oleh teman-teman yang lain. Tapi ternyata mereka diam saja. Ada tatapan tidak suka dan kecewa, tapi tidak ada yang berbicara. Mereka pergi, saya hanya melihat kepergiannya dari warung rokok di depan sekolah. Lalu kembali menyeruput es teh manis yang belum habis.

Hati saya tidak tenang. Ada perasaan lega karena tidak melakukan sesuatu yang saya suka, diikuti perasaan bersalah karena tidak menjadi teman sebenarnya menurut mereka.
Lagipula, apakah arti teman sebenarnya?

Saya pergi ke ruangan ekskul band. Terkunci. Saya mengambil kuncinya di guru pembimbing ("Mau bersih-bersih studio, Pak!") dan kembali ke sana. Masuk ke dalam ruangan.
Sendirian.

Saya mengambil bass saya yang sengaja saya tinggalkan disitu.
[Memainkan lagu.]
Saya tidak tahu kabar mereka saat itu.
[Mengiringi perasaan sendu.]
Atau mungkin lebih tepatnya, saya tidak mau tahu.

Esok harinya saya dengar kabar, teman saya mati ditikam.
Saya terdiam.
Mungkin Tuhan tertawa ketika perasaan saya remuk redam.
[Benarkah begitu, Tuhan?]

*In memoriam of Al.

The Tale of A Desperate Guy and The Desperate Girl

2007-05-09T01:29:00.000+07:00

Desperate guy, desperate guy

Who desperately wants to get back with his girl

He thinks that love is something he can buy

With a new car, or necklace from a pearl.

It doesn't work; he tries something else

Because her heart didn't melt, it stays like ice

So he always stays beside the girl

A tactics to make her thinks that she's his only world.

He tries to look so hopeless

Like a sea turtle hoping to touch the moon

Presuppose that she will be clueless

And poorly gives her love soon.

But he gets jealous when she nears another men

He yells at them, don't you dare to lay a finger!

He looks like a fish without a fin

He's a fake, he's not even her lover.

Desperate guy, desperate guy

Just look at how desperate you are

Looking for love so desperately, is that all you can try?

Go have a drink and sit yourself at the corner of the bar.

With a desperate girl, desperate girl

Who desperately wants to remove the memory of her man

Seeing new guy(s), she thinks she's in the love twirl

Like drinking love beer from a love can.

When he appears, she grows a big smile

After he leaves, she send him messages of love and fascination

She thinks she's in love after a while

He becomes her only obsession.

She doesn't know that he only plays, he's a player

He tells me that he already gives another girl his passion

But she still thinks that she's his love twister

And the love has to end because of somekind of bad situation.

She thinks that the males love her

But she never knows what's on their mind

They have never been so much interested with her

She is only a place to play, then they leave her behind.

Sadly, she doesn't have any guy around

Noone interested with her while there's so many guy in town

Oh, she desperately wants to have a lover

Then she notices the desperate guy sitting beside her.

She doesn't want him but doesn't have any option

I just want to be loved, it's her mind's commotion

Oh desperate girl, desperate girl

Could you be so desperate like this than you ever were?

A desperate guy, with a desperate girl

Having seats on a table at the corner of the bar listening to the band

Desperate people are meant to be together

Go have yourselves a fake-love-drink from your fake-plastic-beer can.

PS 1: I dedicate this to both of you...

PS 2: Thank you for Tim Burton's The Death of The Oyster Boy.

Perjalanan Ini

2007-04-20T02:39:00.000+07:00

Lagi-lagi aku berada di jalan tol Cipularang ini. Sekarang ke arah Jakarta lagi. Kembali ke kota yang dulu pernah aku benci. Pertama karena panas. Tapi kemudian alasannya berubah, karena kau ada disana. Karena kau meninggalkan aku dulu dan lebih memilih dia. Perlukah aku memikirkan alasan itu lagi kini? Entahlah, jika tidak, mungkin aku tidak akan mempunyai alasan yang lebih lagi untuk membenci Jakarta.

Yang jelas, aku tidak suka Jakarta. Aku bisa merasakan apa yang dirasakan mereka, wajah-wajah lesu yang berebut mikrolet yang kulihat dari balik kaca jendela mobil. Kaca yang mengamankan aku dengan dunia. Kaca yang memisahkan aku dan mereka.
Aku mencoba membaca wajah-wajah itu satu demi satu, tapi aku tidak sanggup. Terlalu banyak emosi, terlalu banyak duka. Sukakah mereka akan hidup mereka?

Aleise menepukku pelan,
Pagi-pagi kok kamu sudah melamun, katanya.
Daripada melamun ketika presentasi nanti, lebih baik melamun sekarang, jawabku.
Ia tertawa.
Aku kan sudah disini, buat apa kamu melamunkan aku lagi?
Aku ganti tertawa.

Aleise adalah atasanku. Wanita muda, 25-26 mungkin, aku tidak berani bertanya, wanita suka menganggap laki-laki yang menanyakan umur dan berat badannya adalah laki-laki yang sangat tidak sopan. Jadi aku lebih memilih sembarang menerka daripada bertanya dengan resiko dibenci olehnya. Ia manis, pintar, wanita paling cantik di kantor dan jelas saja disukai oleh semua pria di kantor. Tapi ia suka menggodaku, entah serius atau main-main saja. Jika dia sudah seperti itu, aku hanya tersenyum, atau tertawa, atau terkadang kami berbalas goda.

Sekarang kami dalam perjalanan bertiga ke Jakarta. Satu lagi adalah Iwan, laki-laki dengan logat Jogja, late twenty, sudah bekerja lima tahun sebelum aku masuk ke kantor ini. Ia menjadi office boy, supir, apapun yang disuruhkan pasti dikerjakan. Yang aku suka dari dia adalah ia SANGAT pintar (percayalah, ia SANGAT pintar). Seringkali ia menemaniku ketika lembur, dan ia suka bercerita tentang apa saja, dengan SANGAT detail. Mulai dari sapi, Habibie, baja dan fibre, hubungan diplomatik Australia-Indonesia, minyak bumi, dan masih banyak lagi. Sayangnya ia kalau sudah mulai mengobrol susah sekali berhenti. Aku menjadi curiga, ada sebuah skenario yang kunamai sendiri: KONSPIRASI IWAN; kenapa ia bisa sepintar itu, jangan-jangan ia adalah bos yang sebenarnya tapi menyamar menjadi seorang office boy agar leluasa bergerak dan mengawasi kantor?

Hei Travolta, nanti siang kita mau makan apa? Iwan bertanya. Gara-gara ia teman sekantorku jadi suka memanggil John Travolta.
...apa ya, entahlah. Apapun jadi. Aleise mau makan apa?
Ah gampang, ntar aja kita cari di dekat2 Senayan. Kamu yang bayarin ya Joni..
...lho? Kok saya? Kan Aleise yang jadi bos.
Kan kamu kalah taruhan waktu kita ke Jakarta kemarin.
Taruhan yang mana? kata Iwan.
Ah! Sial! Dasar bule brengsek, dia minta no hp kamu ya?
Iya dong, haha. Memang susah jadi cewe cakep, seksi lagi.
Ih, najis.
Haha, iya, najis. Terus kamu kasih ke dia?
Nggaklah, aku kasih aja no entah siapa. Hihi.
Wah, sayang tuh Mbak, bule kaya gitu kan banyak duitnya.
Emang kamu tau darimana Wan? Pernah jalan sama cowo bule ya?
Belum sih, tapi saya tau kalo itunya pasti gede.
Iwan dan Aleise tertawa. Aku juga.

Mobil terus berjalan. Aku menikmati pemandangan Cipularang tanpa pernah merasa bosan. Bagus sekali, setiap lekukan bukit, awan biru dan pegunungan yang membentang di kejauhan, membuat aku merasa tenang. Tinggal sebentar lagi hingga aku menyapa..

Itu tuh pohon kesayangan kamu, Joni, kata Aleise.
Oh ya, itu Frache, di sebelah sananya itu Mille.
Pohon pinus aja kok dikasih nama aneh-aneh..
Ih, jangan sirik dong Wan, daripada kamu. Chiko dikasih Whiskas, sendirinya makan di warteg. Masak mahalan makanan kucingnya daripada orangnya..

Semua tertawa.

Berapa lama lagi nih sampai Wan? Jangan sampai telat ya, kata Aleise.
Tenang aja Mbak, bisalah sampai jam 9.
Ntar pulangnya ingetin mampir di QB ya Wan, saya mau liat-liat buku dulu..
Buku yang dari saya kemarin sudah selesai kamu baca belum?
Ya belumlah, Leise, ngasihnya aja baru dua hari yang lalu. Gimana pula bisa selesai kalau desain saya aja terus kamu revisi?
Haha, bukan begitu, saya suka desain kamu kok. Tapi mau gimana lagi, klien itu banyak maunya.
Iya, klien tolol, masa direvisi lagi jadinya sama aja kaya sebelum revisi.
Plin-plan.
Bego.
Banyak maunya.
Banyak begonya.
Super-idiot.
Sok modern.
Kapitalis.
Hahaha.

Aku mengeluarkan headphone besar kesayangan dari tas.
Lho Travolta, sudah mulai ritualnya? Cepet amat.
Oh, ini sih gara2 kurang tidur kemarin, pengen tidur2an aja dulu. Jangan ganggu ya..
Kalo aku yang ganggu kamu gimana? Aleise mulai menggoda lagi.
Aku melotot. Aleise tertawa. Iwan tertawa.
Kamu sih Leise, pake acara ngajakin saya ke Jakarta cuma demi bule-bule itu. Mending ada cewenya biar saya agak semangat ngejelasinnya.
Yah, mau gimana lagi Jon, di kantor kita kan yang bahasa Inggrisnya paling bagus itu kamu.
Huh, salah masuk kantor..
Hihi.

Aku memasangkan headphone di kepala, mengambil bantal yang selalu Aleise bawa kalau naik mobil ke Jakarta, lalu melihat keluar jendela. Ritual untuk menenangkan diri. Memakai headphone, menyetel lagu keras-keras.

Frasche dan Mille sudah lewat sejak tadi. Aku memandang sekeliling, berharap ada sesuatu yang tidak biasa yang menarik mata. Tapi tidak ada. Cipularang pagi ini terlihat biasa saja.
Aku memejamkan mata, mencoba tidur, sambil mendengar samar entah Aleise dan Iwan berkata apa, hingga aku tertidur...

Surat dari Olivia

2007-04-04T19:51:00.000+07:00

Joni,
aku sadar, saat ini kau sedang mencoba melangkah dari kehidupanku.
Aku tak akan menahanmu, karena aku juga sedang berusaha memperbaiki kehidupanku sendiri.
Aku tak tahu,
apa alasanmu yang memilih untuk melangkah.
Mungkin karena kau memikirkan kebaikanku?
Haha. Jika ya, maka aku berterima kasih.
Atau mungkin kau memang terbiasa berkelana memikat hati yang terpesona akan auramu?
Entahlah, kurasa aku tak akan pernah mengenalmu cukup baik untuk mengerti cara berpikirmu itu.

Yang jelas, aku tak akan mengganggumu lagi. (dan aku akan berusaha tak terganggu olehmu lagi)
Aku hanya tak ingin cerita ini berakhir begitu saja tanpa kata-kata penutup.
Karena yang demikian itu sama sekali tak ada etika..
Paling tidak,
setelah ini aku tak harus membuang pandangan jika harus bertatap mata denganmu lagi. Karena aku tahu semuanya telah usai.

Tak usah kau risau, tak ada sakit hati dalam hal ini. Aku memandangnya sebagai suatu pertemuan dua manusia.
Dan tiap pertemuan pasti ada perpisahannya. Itu biasa.
Dan aku cukup bersyukur untuk pernah mengenalmu.
Karena tanpa sadar, setelah mengenalmu aku banyak berpikir kembali akan detail-detail kecil yang pernah aku lupakan dan melihat kembali segala sesuatu dari sudut pandang yang baru.
Kau adalah pribadi yang unik, sekaligus sebuah lubang hitam yang tak akan pernah aku mengerti.
Dan aku tak ingin berusaha untuk mengerti.

Yep,
Aku tak akan membiarkan surat ini lebih panjang lagi. Karena akan membosankan dan aku tau kau benci hal-hal yang datar dan overrated.
Sudahlah.
Selamat jalan. aku harap kamu temukan apa yang kamu inginkan.

Olivia

* * *

Rokok itu masih menyala di sela jari. Kedua bola mata itu membaca surat itu sekali lagi. Bibir itu menghembuskan asap rokok, untuk kemudian tersenyum kembali.

...Terima kasih, Olivia, karena sudah berusaha mengerti.

Rilla

2007-03-24T14:18:00.000+07:00

Rilla tidak percaya apa yang ia lihat, apa yang ia baca di monitor komputernya yang masih menunjukkan kata-kata yang entah kebenaran atau hanya cerita. Rilla tahu lelaki itu sering menulis cerita, tapi ia tidak tahu apakah itu benar cerita atau bukan: kisahnya begitu nyata. Betapa banyak emosi yang tertumpah di dalam ceritanya, mungkinkah hanya sekadar cerita?

Ia mencoba mengingat wajah lelaki itu, lelaki yang ia kagumi. Lelaki yang cuek dan terkesan tidak peduli; wajahnya malas namun seketika menjadi serius jika mengerjakan sesuatu yang ia sukai. Rilla menyukai keseriusan yang terpancar di matanya dan entah kenapa bisa memancarkan pesona dari lelaki itu. Dan kemudian ia baru tahu ternyata lelaki itu bisa terluka; lelaki yang ia kira kuat selama ini telah menunjukkan tangisannya ketika sahabatnya pergi. Air mata adalah luapan emosi yang tidak pernah bisa tertahankan lagi. Ia baru tahu kalau lelaki yang tidak peduli itu bisa merasa, dan Rilla ikut menangis juga karenanya. Makin bertambah kekaguman dirinya kepada si lelaki. Andai saja..

Namun kini, di cerita yang ia baca, sang lelaki telah mengakui cintanya kepada seorang wanita, Olivia, sahabat dekatnya. Apakah Rilla tahu hal itu? Apakah ia mengira tidak ada apa-apa di antara mereka, ia juga tidak yakin. Ia melihat pertanda, pertanda yang langsung mengabur ketika lelaki itu kembali bersikap tidak peduli seperti layaknya ia biasanya. Ataukah sebenarnya Rilla telah mengetahuinya, tapi mencoba bersikap tidak peduli dan tidak merasa apa-apa?

Namun kini, apa yang ia baca telah menceritakan semuanya. Rilla tidak pernah tahu perasaan mereka berdua sedalam itu, sedalam apa yang telah ia baca. Ia tahu kenyataan tidak akan bisa mempersatukan mereka, tapi mereka tetap mencoba.

Ia menangis, kalut, sedih, benci dan amarah bercampur menjadi satu. Ia tidak tahu apa yang harus ia pikirkan sekarang, haruskah ia membenci lelaki itu dan sahabatnya? Haruskah ia menyerah dan membiarkan saja mereka berdua?

Olivia, katakanlah kepadaku, benarkah cerita itu?
...

Olivia tidak bisa membohongi Rilla. Malam itu, Olivia menceritakan semua kisahnya. Ia menangis. Rilla menangis. Mereka berdua berpelukan sambil sesenggukan. Semuanya karena sang lelaki. Rilla tidak tahu bagaimana perasaannya terhadap sang lelaki, masih haruskah ia kagumi ataukah harus ia benci?
Yang ia tahu hanyalah ia mencintai sahabatnya Olivia dan tidak ingin Olivia terluka. Maka ia memutuskan untuk membenci sang lelaki, dan menghancurkan semua rasa yang pernah ada, semua rasa yang ia simpan dari dirinya untuk lelaki itu.

* * *

Aku membencimu, kata Rilla.

Mereka bertemu kembali. Malam itu ia melihat lelaki itu melintas sendiri dengan headphone besar di kepalanya, memperdengarkan lagu-lagu dari Ipod miliknya, menunjukkan betapa autis dan tidak pedulinya ia dengan dunia.

Ketidakpedulian yang membuat ia terlihat keren sekali dulu. Dulu, sebelum Rilla memutuskan untuk membencinya.

Lelaki itu duduk, membuka laptop, dan mengerjakan sesuatu entah apa. Ya, terpujilah teknologi yang tidak membutuhkan kabel untuk sebuah koneksi. Rilla mengamati lelaki, matanya bergerak lincah menjelajahi layar monitor, tangan kanannya sibuk mengklik mouse dan tangan kirinya mengetik karakter yang ada di keyboard. Sesekali ia mengangguk-anggukkan kepala, menikmati musik yang ada di kepalanya. Sesekali ia melihat ke langit dan langit-langit (lelaki itu memang suka memandang ke atas sana). Sesekali ia meminum mocha latte kesukaannya. Sesekali ia berhenti menatap laptop, dan menatap sekelilingnya, berusaha menerka-nerka: siapa mereka, apa yang mereka lakukan tadi pagi, akan apa mereka malam nanti, semuanya.
Sifat kanak-kanak yang masih menempel pada dirinya, dan itu yang membuat ia berbeda. Lagipula itu lebih baik dari kanak-kanak yang dipaksa dewasa, tanpa sadar bahwa mereka tetap saja kanak-kanak yang melarikan diri dari realita.

Lelaki itu terus memperhatikan sekelilingnya, mengubah perlahan arah pandangan. Hingga akhirnya mereka bertatapan.
Lelaki itu dan Rilla.
Ada hujan yang turun, gunung es yang tiba-tiba muncul dari permukaan ketika mata mereka berdua bertatapan.

Tidak ada kata yang terucap antara mereka berdua. Tapi lewat sorot mata, lelaki itu bisa menebak apa yang Rilla rasa.

Malam semakin larut dan satu persatu orang-orang bangkit dari tempat duduknya beranjak pulang. Mata mereka masih bertatapan.
Lelaki itu melepas kacamatanya, ia tidak pernah suka mengenakan kacamata,
"Kacamata menciptakan batas antara mata dengan mata. Aku lebih suka menatap matamu dan berbicara melaluinya. Lucu terkadang, bagaimana mata bisa menjadi perantara rasa, menembus dalam ke hati melebihi dalamnya samudra..."

Rilla melihat ke dalam kedua bola mata itu sekali lagi. Tapi kini berbeda, ia tetap kuat dengan segala kelemahannya. Ia telah berubah banyak, kenapa, Rilla bertanya-tanya.

Lewat mata itu mereka berbicara.
Aku membencimu, kata Rilla.
...karena aku mengecewakanmu, atau karena Olivia?
...aku tidak tahu, mungkin keduanya. Rilla tertunduk sedih.

Rilla sendiri sekarang, semua temannya telah pulang tapi Rilla memutuskan untuk tidak beranjak dari kursi ia duduk.

Hanya satu-dua orang yang masih duduk di tempat itu, menikmati minuman mereka. Saat itu sudah malam, entah jam berapa. Untung saja tempat itu terus buka. Rilla tidak kuasa, ia menelungkupkan kedua tangan ke wajah, wajahnya ke meja.

Lelaki itu menghela nafas, ia tidak ingin melihat wanita menangis. Ditutupnya setengah laptop itu, bangkit dari kursi dan pindah ke sebelah Rilla.

Rilla sedikit terkejut ketika ia menyadari sebuah tangan menyapa bahunya, lelaki itu menatapnya dekat, tidak jauh, tapi lekat.

Mengapa, mengapa ia?
Kami memang egois, dan merasa perlu jujur kepada diri sendiri sesekali.
Tapi kau tahu ia tidak bisa bersamamu?
...
Berhentilah menghubunginya.
Jika tidak, ia akan menghubungiku juga.
...
...
(hening)
...aku membencimu, semua kekaguman untukmu seketika hilang di mataku, hancur tanpa pernah kau tahu..
...aku tahu semuanya, dan aku menerima kau memikirkan aku seperti itu. Konsekuensi logis dari tindakan yang aku ambil kini.
...
...
(hening)
Jadi apa yang akan kalian lakukan?
Entahlah, biar waktu yang menentukan apa jadinya perasaan.
Tolong jangan menemuinya lagi, kau hanya akan melukainya, dan aku akan terluka juga karenanya..
...maaf, Rilla. Aku tidak bisa menjanjikan apa-apa. Yang aku tahu hanyalah aku sangat egois sekali saat ini.

Dan aku menginginkan Olivia, kata-kata yang tidak bisa keluar begitu saja dari mulutnya, karena ia tahu kata-kata itu akan menyakiti Rilla.

Rilla menangis dalam hatinya. Ia seakan bisa mendengar kata-kata yang tidak keluar dari bibir sang lelaki. Namun ia bisa mengerti, bahwa lelaki itu dan Olivia mempunyai rasa. Rasa yang tidak pernah ia tahu sedalam apa itu. Dan ketika ia tahu sedalam apa samudra, ternyata masih tetap tidak bisa mengukur kedalamannya. Rilla menerawang ke depan, berusaha mencercah sebuah asa, harapan yang tidak sempat terpikirkan. Tapi yang ia lihat hanya meja dan meja, kursi dan kursi, orang lewat sesekali dan tiada lagi...

Kalau begitu, janganlah kau sakiti dia, Joni.

* * *

Olivia

2007-03-20T17:30:00.000+07:00

Dinginnya udara Lembang sudah biasa aku nikmati. Dingin dan menyegarkan hati. Namun kali ini membuatku bertambah mati.
Baru tadi, Minggu pagi ini, satu temanku pergi.

Aku duduk di beranda rumah, menghisap rokokku dalam-dalam sementara mentari pagi masih berusaha mengusir embun yang enggan jatuh dari kelopak bunga, dari urat-urat daun yang menempel di ranting pohon.

Apakah kau sudah terjaga, Olivia?

Tidak ada pembicaraan berdua malam tadi dengan secangkir kopi hangat di tangan kita seperti yang telah kita janjikan sebelumnya. Kau tertidur lebih dulu semalam, dan aku tidak ingin membangunkanmu. Aku hanya bisa menatapmu yang tidur dengan wajah damai, melepas semua bebanmu sejenak, melarikan diri dari dunia tanpa perlu merasa bersalah karena meninggalkannya. Membuat aku hanya bisa tersenyum tanpa perlu berkata-kata. Inginku mencium lembut dahimu sambil ikut tertidur bersamamu, menghangatkan diri dalam selimut dan menjadi hangat karena aku di dekatmu. Tapi berita tiba-tiba ini membuatku insomnia, jadi aku memilih untuk keluar saja dan membiarkanmu tertidur lelap.

Jari telunjukku panas. Rokok yang hampir menyala habis menyadarkan dari lamunan yang hinggap, mengajakku kembali ke dunia. Tidak ada lagi lamunan, khayalan, atau imajinasi. Membuatku harus kembali berpikir dewasa. Walaupun aku tahu aku seorang dewasa yang masih kekanak-kanakan. Tapi aku lebih suka seperti itu, daripada kanak-kanak yang dipaksakan untuk bersikap dewasa.

Aku mematikan rokok itu dan melemparnya ke tempat sampah. Meleset, biarlah nanti aku masukkan kembali. Aku masih memikirkan temanku yang pergi, mengapa harus terjadi. Air mata tetap tertahan, walaupun kesunyian semakin mengajak aku untuk melepaskan. Aku memikirkan pekerjaan yang sementara dilupakan. Sabtu dan Minggu ini aku sudah berjanji kepada diriku sendiri untuk melihat wajahmu, Olivia. Walaupun Jumat kemarin tiba-tiba banyak sekali pekerjaan yang diberikan. Aku sudah bekerja lembur semalam menyelesaikan, hanya untuk paginya (pagi tadi, tepatnya) diberikan pekerjaan baru lagi. Untunglah deadline-nya Senin pagi, aku akan mengerjakannya malam ini setelah kita kembali ke Bandung nanti.

Kepalaku pening. Kenapa aku masih saja memikirkan banyak hal. Padahal aku bisa melupakannya sekarang, sebentar saja. Karena Olivia. Ia sudah bangun dan mendekapku tiba-tiba dari belakang,

Badanmu hangat, kau baik-baik saja?
Jawabanku hanya sebuah senyuman kecil tanpa kata-kata.
Terlalu banyak yang kau pikirkan, adakah yang bisa aku lakukan untuk membuatmu melupakan?
Tidak mengapa, asal kau ada di sini tidak mengapa.

Sisa pagi hari itu terhabiskan dengan dekapan untuk mengusir dingin. Hingga aku masuk dan kembali tidur di ranjang. Aku ingin tidur yang lelap tanpa harus terjaga kalau bisa. Betapa aku merindukan tidurku yang dulu, yang membuatku bangun jam sepuluh atau jam satu.

Dekaplah aku, Olivia, jangan biarkan aku terjaga...

* * *

Bangunlah, sudah hampir tengah malam.

Aku membuka mata, dan melihatmu, Olivia. Dimana aku, hari apa ini, apa saja yang telah aku lewatkan dari bumi. Pertanyaan yang biasa menghantui kini tidak ada lagi.

Sinar lampu temaram dari kamarmu membuat tenang perasaan, mengusir segala kegelapan yang ada di pikiran.

Aku tidak mengira Senin ini aku akan berada disini. Kemarin malam aku sudah tidak tahan, hampir pingsan. Untunglah aku sudah sampai rumah, jadi aku tertidur begitu saja. Kau bangunkan aku tengah malam, karena ada yang harus aku selesaikan, pekerjaan yang tertunda.

Siang tadi kau menjemputku di kantor. Kita pergi makan berdua di Lantera. Harusnya kita pergi berjalan entah kemana, tapi kau memutuskan untuk diam di rumah saja. Panas sekali siang ini dan macet dimana-mana, katamu. Baiklah kalau begitu, kataku, kita menghabiskan hari ini di rumahmu. Aku menceritakan tentang mimpiku tadi pagi, aku dalam sebuah band memainkan lagu The Beatles di gurun pasir,

Tapi kamu tidak menyukai Beatles.
Bagaimana aku tahu, mimpi selalu datang begitu saja tanpa rencana.
Lagu apa?
Aku lupa lagu yang dimainkan, tapi sepertinya salah satu lagu populernya.
...I Will?
Oh, itu dia! Sepertinya lagu itu.
Hmm, itu salah satu lagu favoritku.
Betulkah? Kalau kamu mendengar versi rock ‘n roll-nya, aku sangsi apakah kamu masih menyukainya.
Haha.
Ya, haha.

Kita ke rumahmu. Kita berbicara tentang apapun itu. Aku mengambil gitar dan memainkan lagu untukmu. Kau ikut menyanyikan lagu. Terkadang aku diam dan membiarkanmu menyanyi, sesekali menimpali. Hal yang menjadi lucu, karena lagu-lagu yang telah aku mainkan dan kau juga nyanyikan terdengar di radio kemudian. Kita menertawakan hal-hal yang tidak perlu ditertawakan tapi tetap saja ditertawakan karena menggelikan. Kau menceritakan duniamu, aku menceritakan kisah-kisah dongengku padamu.

Kita makan malam berdua. Kau menyuruhku untuk mencoba bumbu pecel yang pedas itu. Kucicipi dan aku tidak mau, kau hanya tertawa. Aku juga tertawa.
Kita duduk di sofa. Kau menceritakan hidupmu, aku mendengarkannya sambil melingkarkan tangan di bahumu. Televisi yang menyala tidak lagi perlu kita menontonnya. Kau menyandarkan kepalamu di bahuku.

Aku mengantuk, katamu. Lebih baik kita pindah ke kamarmu, kataku. Tapi kau sudah tidak mendengarnya, kau tertidur pulas, dan aku membiarkanmu larut dalam mimpimu.

* * *

Beberapa jam kemudian, aku yang terbangun di kamarmu. Melihat wajahmu yang berada di samping wajahku.

Pekerjaanmu sudah selesai?
Sudah cukup untuk malam ini. Bagaimana denganmu, apakah kau akan pulang malam ini?
Aku tidak mau. Bolehkah aku tinggal disini malam ini?
..kau harus pulang..
..haruskah aku?
...
... aku takut jika aku melangkah keluar dari kamar ini walaupun hanya satu langkah kaki, aku akan menyesal karena aku telah melepasmu pergi.
...

Kau mendekatkan tubuhmu padaku, kudekapkan diriku padamu. Entah kemudian apa yang kita pikirkan saat kita mulai berciuman, sesuatu yang sangat ingin kita lakukan sejak dulu. Sesuatu yang tidak bisa kita lakukan dulu karena kau bersamanya dan aku bersama dia. Sesuatu yang harus kita lepaskan namun kini telah kembali menemukan kesempatan ketika kita menyerah begitu saja pada suasana.

Tidak perlu memikirkan apa-apa karena saat itu yang ada hanyalah kita berdua, kau dan aku, Olivia.

* * *

Bercinta telah usai, ciuman tidak perlu kita lakukan lagi karena telah membekas di hati. Kita diam rebahan memandangi bintang-bintang yang terlihat di langit-langit kamar, tanpa memedulikan lolongan anjing di malam hari. Kau lelah dan tertidur. Pelan aku menarik tanganku dari bahumu agar kau tak terbangun. Aku bangkit dari ranjang, keluar kamar dan duduk di sofa, lalu menyalakan sebatang rokok. Sambil mengingat kata-kata yang termaknakan dalam pembicaraan kita tadi,

Bagaimana jika kau terbangun nanti kau tidak bisa menemukanku? Bagaimana jika semua yang barusan terjadi hanya sebuah mimpi, Olivia?
...aku akan sedih, hatiku hancur berkeping dan mungkin akan mati. Bagaimana denganmu?
Aku akan kembali tidur, mencoba mengejar mimpi itu kembali dan tak ingin terbangun lagi.
[Mata kita saling bertatapan, sambil mengatakan perasaan lewat senyuman]

Kau masih tertidur ketika aku kembali ke kamarmu. Aku kembali naik ke atas ranjang, mendekapmu dari belakang. Perasaan gundah datang dan bertebaran ketika mataku menerawang menjelajahi kamar dan menemukan foto kalian di atas meja. Kalian sedang duduk di sebuah meja, entah dimana, mungkin sebuah pesta atau acara biasa. Namun keduanya bahagia, entah apa yang kalian rasa sekarang.

Kau tertidur pulas dalam pelukanku, ketika aku berbisik lirih di telingamu,

Jangan pernah tinggalkan kekasihmu demi aku, Olivia..

* * *

Handphoneku masih tergenggam di tangan. Mataku masih membaca berulang-ulang, pesan yang kuterima darimu tadi malam,

Aku ingin mengingat malam ini sebagai sebuah cerita, yang dapat kubaca berulang-ulang ketika aku merindukanmu.
Biarkan aku tidur dan memimpikan kisah yang kau ceritakan padaku, biarkan kau tidur dan memimpikanku.
Selamat tidur ksatria-ku..

Maka biarlah kisah ini tersampaikan untukmu, biarlah kau baca kisah ini ketika kau merindukanku. Ingatlah malam itu sebagai kenangan antara kau dan aku, sebelum begitu saja berlalu...

Chika, Chiki, dan Chiko

2007-03-15T20:21:00.000+07:00

Chika berambut putih dengan sedikit lingkaran oranye di punggungnya. Ia sangat malas. Hobinya adalah tidur. Setiap hari ia tiduran di keset di luar pintu, membuat setiap orang yang ingin keluar tiba-tiba meloncat agar tidak menginjaknya. Jika udara luar terlalu panas, ia menunggu orang membuka pintu, lalu masuk dan tiduran kembali di koridor. Membuat orang yang lewat melihatnya sambil melemparkan senyum kecil kepadanya.

Chiki berambut oranye, dengan strip-strip putih dari kepala hingga kaki. Kakinya berwarna putih, membuat ia seakan-akan mengenakan kaos kaki putih. Sehingga aku memanggilnya Chiki si Kaus Kaki Putih. Ia sangat manja. Selalu saja mengejutkanku karena tiba-tiba sudah berada di bawah meja, sekadar minta sedikit elusan di kepala atau pangkuan di paha.

Chiko berambut abu-abu, dengan mata coklat tua. Ia sangat ingin tahu. Setiap hari ia pergi menjelajahi ruangan untuk bercakap-cakap dengan mesin printer yang terus mengeluarkan kertas dari dalamnya, bermain tepuk-tepukan dengan tirai jendela, dan juga berkejar-kejaran dengan gumpalan kertas yang tidak masuk sempurna saat kulemparkan ke tempat sampah.

Jika sore hari hujan turun, aku membuat teh manis hangat dan duduk di sofa depan sambil menyeruputnya. Melihat keluar kaca, apakah kau merasakan perasaan yang sama?
[Pertanyaan bodoh, tentu saja. Kau benci hujan.]
Aku juga heran, karena aku pernah tidak menyukai hujan sepertimu. Sangat membencinya malah. Tapi justru karena kau perasaanku berubah. Aku sekarang menganggap hujan sebagai sebuah perasaan, perasaan harus melepaskan. Seperti mendung yang harus melepaskan hujan, untuk kemudian kembali cerah dan terang, mungkin benderang. Seperti aku yang harus melepaskanmu, untuk kembali berpikir dan mengerti hidupku, mengerti hidupmu.

Entah kenapa ada perasaan hangat yang tersisa, menyelip sempurna ke dalam hati ketika hujan turun tanpa henti, mengalahkan dingin beku yang meraja dalam suasana. Aku bahagia dengan hidupku kini, bahagiakah kamu? Walaupun ada sebuah rasa yang hilang, orbolan kita selama berjam-jam yang sangat kurindukan. Tidak pernah aku bisa berhenti berbicara denganmu hingga subuh dan pagi akan menjelang. Tapi kini aku sudah terbiasa berbicara dengan hatiku, menanyakan apa kabarnya, dan permainan apa yang akan kami mainkan hari ini. Mungkin akhir pekan aku akan mengajakmu pergi, untuk sekadar bercerita, tentang aku, tentang kamu, atau tentang bulan purnama di malam itu. Tapi mungkin kau sibuk dan tidak punya waktu. Aku juga sibuk dan entah aku tahu apakah aku punya waktu untuk itu. Atau tidak.

Tik. Aku mendengar suara tetesan hujan. Tik. Satu tetes lagi di antara sejuta. Kalau di film-film, adegan ini adalah saat dimana gerakan berjalan sangat lambat dengan suara diheningkan kecuali satu tetesan tadi. Detail wajah diambil super close –up. Saturasi diubah menjadi hitam-putih agar lebih dramatis rasanya.
Apakah kau bisa mendengar tetesan hujan yang sama dengan yang aku dengarkan? Mungkin tidak. Mungkin kau tidak punya waktu untuk mendengarkan suara hujan. Mungkin malah terdengar konyol untukmu. Lagipula kau membencinya. Tidak mengapa. Tapi cobalah sekali-kali mendengarkannya, mungkin kau akan suka.

Ya, hujan ini membuatku melankoli. Tapi aku menikmatinya. Apalagi dengan seruputan teh manis hangat. Dulu kau juga biasa membuatkanku teh manis hangat. Kau tidak tahu takaran gula yang tepat untukku, aku sangat menyukai teh yang sangat manis dan hangat. Tapi tidak mengapa, kau membuatkannya dan untukku itu sudah cukup.

Tapi itu dulu, kini aku hanya sendirian di dalam ruangan. Dan langit masih mendung sejak tadi. Hujan masih turun, entah berapa lama lagi berhenti. Mungkin aku akan terus melamunkan apapun andai saja Chiki tidak mengelus kakiku. Aku menoleh dan melihatnya. Ia menoleh dan melihatku. Kuletakkan cangkir teh dan meraih Chiki. Aku duduk bersila dan meletakkan kucing itu di pangkuan, mengelusnya hingga ia tertidur. Hingga Chika datang. Dan Chiko yang juga menyusul melompat ke sofa. Keduanya ikut naik ke pangkuan dan tidur sementara aku hanya melihatnya tanpa mau melakukan apa-apa.

Entah jam berapa waktu itu, hujan telah usai dan ketiga kucing itu masih ada di pangkuanku. Malam telah tiba, mengajak para pemimpi untuk kembali ke dunia petualangannya. Bintang telah memanggilku untuk bermain dan bulan ingin bercerita tentang kau dan hidupmu yang tidak pernah aku masuki lagi sejak saat aku memutuskan untuk meninggalkanmu walaupun sebenarnya kau yang meninggalkanku.

Kuangkat hati-hati ketiga kucing itu dari pangkuanku, satu-persatu, dan berusaha sebisa mungkin tidak membangunkan mereka (Chika tidak akan bangun, Chiki dan Chiko sempat terbangun namun kemudian tertidur lagi). Aku bereskan meja kerja dan berjalan keluar. Sempat kulihat ketiga kucing itu masih tertidur pulas, Chika mendengkur pelan. Aku dekati mereka dan memberikan masing-masing satu elusan terakhir sebelum aku pulang. Kubuka pintu dan kututup pelan agar mereka tidak terbangun.

Dan disinilah aku, kembali di luar, kembali berhadapan dengan peradaban. Tidak ada lagi dinding yang mencoba mengekang atau mungkin malah ingin melindungi dari kehidupan.

Bintang, Bulan, kemarilah, ada yang ingin aku ceritakan kepada kalian...

oh my god, what the hell has happened to me....

2007-03-08T19:58:00.000+07:00

Damn. I love this job. Eventhough I have to work overtime until 12pm and walking home alone because there is no more bus (luckily I always bring the ipod with me).

Damn. I think I go crazy because eventhough I'm working full-time-nine-to-five, I still looking for another job vacancy. I still can do some freelance works.

Damn. I drank alcohol again (a lot!) and smoking badly. But I don't mind this time. All 2 years of quitting drinking just disappear. Maybe because it's because of the stress? Hmm, I don't feel any kind of troublesome pressure.

Like I told you before, I AM happy with the situation I am now.

The funny fact is I begin to wake up at 5, doing the holy-ritual things before I go to work, and always arrive at the office 30 minutes early.

Wow, I'm afraid I'm going paranoid-workaholic-architect. I'm afraid I didn't have enough time to do some daydreaming or sleeping or just writing stories.

...

Enough with the talking. Let's do some working.

~life moves on, summer dreams on!

2007-03-07T06:35:00.000+07:00

"Time is something given to everyone with the same amount. That's why we must use it well.
Time changes our surroundings. Time changes us. Time changes you."
-something I read somewhere-

Funny how you wake up in the morning and you realized you've done so many bad things in life. Yep, slothness made me feel lazy. But now I'm fixing everything's up, and I'm happy about it.

Happy?

Yep, never been happy like this before. I got to go to work and that means new situation, new things I will meet. But the fact that I like it is something I didn't think of it before. Maybe it's like you just afraid of something you didn't know, but it turns out to be something you really like to do.

Or maybe she really changed my mind, but nevermind. I'm doing this for myself, for sure. I'm just glad that I met her; I learned so many things from her. And I feel glad to let her go. I have more time and spaces for myself now. Olivia came back to me, but I don't want to think about any kind of relationships right now. I'm just love the situation I am in with the works, works, and works (which also means money, money, and money of course...).

Or maybe, after getting sober while last night you're getting on with bottles of JackD (dammit you guys, haha), you could really thinks clearly enough to realize things. What have I done, why am I here, and questions like that. The drinking and getting drunk is an action to escape, but when you're sober you turn your back and you could see well enough to realize your mistakes.

I used to be too lazy too work, but wow, time really changes people including me.
Funny it is, because I feel good. Maybe I turns out to be a workaholic too, you'll never know. Neither do I, haha.

Love my life? Yes, I love my life now for sure, and that's not including her. I feel a little bit lonely though, but last night Olivia said to me,
"Loneliness linger, but everything's gonna be alright at its time.."
So, they just suppose to happen. It's normal, I think. And I'll get over it.

Hmm, it's 8 already? Well, I've got to work now. Remember people, always turns your internet off when you're working, it's just another kind of distraction that makes your don't do your works. Haha, goodbye for now everyone, I'll see you later after the work is done.

morning reminiscence

2007-03-04T09:55:00.000+07:00

I wake up in morning reminiscence.
The dream wasn't that nightmare; it doesn't have that kind of scary monster, or you don't have to run because of the zombies chasing you.
But still, the dream was a horrible nightmare to me: I was there with her, but she left. She walked away, she walked away and I couldn't do anything to stop her. I followed her. She took the left turn at the crossroad. I took the same turn but she's just not there. I began to search everywhere, but she's just not there.

Why are you still in the same dream that keeps repeating night after night you left me? The memory of you hunts me. Funny it is, how you could miss the old days when they are already gone. Do I miss you? I'm sure I do. You're the one who told me to leave, you have no idea how much the love I feel for you making things that didn't real become the reality themselves. It's such a weird feeling in my stomach

The hole I am in now is dark, and I still don't want to climb up. I feel tired a little bit although I know I have to get out of here quickly. My wings still hurt; the time you fall was the time my wings shattered. I have to climb it but it is an infinite darkness.

Sadly I couldn't cry. Because there's no use of crying now, no more tears should fall.

But when I look up, I see light. That will be my reason to get out of here , as fast as I could.

kepergian

2007-03-03T00:53:00.000+07:00

Akhirnya, ia memutuskan untuk pergi. Ia telah berusaha untuk mempertahankan semuanya namun sudah terlambat. Ia berusaha untuk memperbaiki kesalahan-kesalahannya namun dia menutup mata tak mau melihat.

Sebenarnya ia tak ingin pernah pergi dari situ. Ia tak yakin apakah dia tahu. Tapi dia terus menyuruhnya untuk pergi. Ia berpikir dan menyadari, bahwa dia sudah tak ingin bersamanya lagi. Sedih memang, ia kecewa, hatinya pecah, dan hancur berantakan entah berapa ratus ribu kepingan.

Ia hanya merasa dia telah jauh berubah, dia bukan lagi dia yang pernah ia tahu. Atau mungkin ia memang tak pernah tahu. Atau mungkin dia yang dahulu menipu. Dia yang dulu menerimanya sepenuh hati dengan segala kekurangannya. Namun kini, kekurangan itu menjadi alasan perpisahan mereka.
Ia tidak menduga dia akan berkata seperti itu.

Ia sudah memutuskan untuk pergi menjauh dan memberikan ruang untuknya. Agar ia tidak membebani dia. Agar dia bisa tersenyum lepas tanpa perlu merasa tertekan oleh ia.

Sakit memang, tapi ia terpaksa pergi. Ia tidak tahu harus berbuat apa lagi. Dia sudah tidak ingin berbicara dengan ia, mungkin dia sudah membenci ia. Hingga akhirnya ia memutuskan untuk pergi daripada terus menyakiti dia. Pergi dengan terpaksa.

Malam itu ia memberikan bunga kepada dia, dan lagi-lagi sebuah puisi cinta. Tapi dia tidak mau menerimanya lagi. Ia bingung. Mungkinkah kata-kata yang ia tuliskan dulu menyinggung dia? Ia tidak pernah bermaksud buruk dengan kata-katanya, mungkinkah terjadi perubahan resapan makna? Atau mungkin alasan yang sederhana: ia telah menyakiti dia sedemikian rupa sehingga dia tidak mau berurusan lagi dengan ia.
Ia menyadari kesalahannya namun kini sia-sia. Ia ingin memperbaiki, tapi dia sudah tidak mau lagi.
Maka biarlah kini mereka berjalan sendiri-sendiri.

Ia masih takut untuk salah memilih. Karena ia terbukti salah dengan mencoba mempertahankan dia. Apakah ia benar ketika melepaskan dia? Mereka telah berbelok arah yang berbeda. Kemarin ia masih berada di persimpangan, menunggu dia berputar kembali dan kembali berjalan bersama ke depan. Tapi dia terus berjalan. Sesekali dia berhenti, untuk kemudian terus berjalan kembali.

Ia hanya bisa menatap itu dari kejauhan. Sia-sia ia menanti. Dia tak kembali lagi. Akhirnya ia melihat ke jalan yang ada di persimpangan itu. Di belakang ia adalah jalan yang telah mereka lalui. Namun dia berbelok ke kiri. Ia memutuskan untuk berbelok ke kanan, bertentangan dengan jalan yang dia pilih. Sesekali ia menoleh ke belakang berharap ia kembali. Tapi dia tak pernah datang. Ia mengharapkan dia akan tiba-tiba memeluknya dari belakang, sambil berkata, kejutan!
Andai saja itu nyata, karena tak pernah ada.

* * *

Malam itu ia pergi meninggalkan kantor tempat dia bekerja. Dia barusan pergi, wangi parfumnya masih jelas terhirup oleh ia. Tapi biarlah itu segera terlupa. Karena kini ia telah berada di trotoar, menatap lurus ke jalan yang kakinya akan langkahkan. Tapi kali ini sendiri, dia telah pergi meninggalkannya.

Angin malam terasa menjadi tak bersahabat. Kegelapan mengunci bibirnya rapat, sehingga tidak ada rintihan pilu yang keluar malam itu. Dingin menusuk rusuk ketika ia melangkah pergi.
Ia tidak tahu harus merasa apa, ia sudah tidak bisa merasa sejak hati dibawa pergi oleh dia. Kini tidak ada air mata, lautan air matanya telah kering karena setiap malam dalam kesepian yang menyedihkan.

Dalam suatu tapakan kaki kanan, menyala benderang tiba-tiba lampu jalan. Lampu yang sebelumnya mati dan tak pernah menyala sebelum ia lewati. Apakah ini sebuah pertanda, apakah ini sebuah jawaban, O Tuhan?
Lampu jalan hanya ingin menghiburnya, menunjukkan bahwa ada cahaya di setiap kegelapan.

Ia berhenti sejenak, bertukar pikiran dengan sang Lampu Jalan. Beberapa detik mereka bertatapan. Sehingga akhirnya ia menunduk tersenyum, menghela nafas, dan kembali melangkah. Dipasangnya headphone ke telinga dan lagu kembali terdengar. Lagu perpisahan. Lagu mengenangkan.

Hatinya sudah tidak sedih lagi. Tapi kosong, ia tidak merasa apa-apa. Sangat sulit untuk mengakui bahwa ia harus berpisah dengan dia yang masih ia rasa cinta.
Hampa, ia berkata, terima kasih Malam, karena telah memberikan kenangan antara aku dan dia..

Dearest Ophelia,

2007-02-28T14:16:00.000+07:00

Mungkin kamu sekarang benci padaku, aku tidak ingin surat ini menjadi sebuah kata-kata memojokkan atau dengan nada kebencian, atau sebuah pembelaan. Tapi aku mengatakan ini hanya untuk kamu dan kebaikan kamu.

Kata-kata kamu benar, kamu berubah menjadi seseorang yang mungkin kamu sendiri tidak tahu.

Ophelia sekarang merasa kuat dan bahagia, tapi kenapa aku selalu melihat kesedihan di matanya? Kesedihan yang timbul dari perasaan terluka karena harus menjadi apa yang orang lain mau, bukan apa yang ia sendiri mau. Perasaan yang didapat Ophelia dari cara orang menghargainya, bukan cara ia menghargai dirinya sendiri.

Tidak seperti Julia, yang matanya bersinar cemerlang dengan asa yang tetap menyala walaupun dunia menentangnya.

Julia selalu membuktikan kalau dunia salah, Ophelia,

Ia tidak menyerah bahkan tidak berhenti ketika dunia menertawakannya. Maka aku akan menopangnya agar jangan dia lelah, agar jangan pernah ia berpikir untuk menyerah kepada dunia.

Bersama, aku dan dia akan berjalan, bergandengan, untuk saling menjaga dan berbagi cerita.

Kamu mengira kalau kamu kuat, tetapi itu hanyalah salah satu bentuk penyangkalan karena takut kamu dikecewakan orang-orang, kamu takut pandangan mereka berubah jika kamu terlihat lemah, Ophelia. Tapi kenyataannya kamu lemah. Julia jauh lebih kuat darimu.

[Aku tulus melihatnya, dengan segala kekuatan dan kelemahan dia.]

[Aku memuji kekuatan Julia, aku mengagumi dia dengan motor besarnya, dengan gayanya yang tomboy, dengan kesibukannya, dengan perhatiannya.

Jika lelah, Julia bersandar dan menceritakan hal-hal yang membebaninya. Aku akan mendengarkan ceritanya hingga habis, dan kemudian memeluknya atau memainkan bibirnya hingga dia tertawa.]

Mengertikah kamu, Ophelia? Dengarkanlah kata hatimu, jangan biarkan orang-orang itu mencuri kata hatimu dari dirimu sendiri sehingga kau tidak bisa mendengarnya.

Tapi aku akan menjadi apa yang kamu minta.

Joni.

and that was the time when friends come in handy

2007-02-27T03:11:00.000+07:00

Lo kenapa?

...another punishment for I have sinned, haha.

Jadi gimana?

...ya kaya yang gua bilang tadi, entahlah.

Udahlah, nggak usah dipikirin.

...yah, it's easy for you to say, I'm trying, dodol..

Mending kita jalan-jalan aja, gua ajakin yang lain deh. Lo mau ga, Dan?

Eh, yuk, gua mau nonton nih, lo mau nonton juga ga?

...not in the mood buat nonton nih, males ah...

Jadi kita jalan kemana nih?

...I'll go wherever you will go lah, I have no reason to live, haha..

(semua) hahaha!!

Kasian banget sih lo..

Ngepsky, diem lo, haha.

Jadi mau kemana nih?

I'll go wherever you will go lah, I have no reason to live..

Mending ke Ciwalk atau ke Blitz?

(mumbling) I'll go wherever you will go lah, I have no reason to live..

Jangan sedih gitu dong lo, pathethic amat sih jadi orang.

Pathethically romantic maksud lo?

(semua) Hahaha!!!

Ya udah, kita ke Ciwalk aja, nongkrong di J.Co

Bolehlah, I have nowhere to go, neither reason to live.

Yah, jangan gitu dong lo, gua bayarin deh. Satu donat aja tapi.

Haha, sial. Ya udah, kita ke J.Co aja kalo gitu, gua yang traktir.

Ih, baik banget lu?

Asik ditraktir, makasih ya! hehe.

Haha, nevermind..

(it was me, thanking on you, guys.)

bunga mawar, cheese cake strawberry, dan puisi cinta

2007-02-26T01:25:00.000+07:00

Sejak pagi lelaki itu berada di kantor sang perempuan. Ia datang pagi, karena tahu perempuan itu akan bekerja dari pagi hingga siang. Tetapi dia baru saja pergi ketika ia tiba.

[Kalau begitu, aku akan menunggunya kembali hingga sore nanti]

Ia telah menyiapkan mawar merah yang masih mekar, segar merona. Seperti cinta sang lelaki yang selalu membara untuk perempuannya. Juga sepotong cheese cake srawberry untuk dimakan perempuannya. Sebenarnya ia ingin membelikan yang blueberry tapi tadi sedang tidak ada, entah habis atau memang belum siap tersaji pagi-pagi. Tidak lupa juga ia siapkan puisi cinta. Lelaki itu sangat mencintai perempuannya maka biarlah puisi yang mengutarakan pereasaannya walaupun makna pastilah tak akan pernah menyamai dalamnya cinta lelaki itu sebenarnya; takkan ada kata-kata cinta yang bisa cukup untuk menunjukkan seberapa besar dan dalam rasa cintanya.

Lelaki itu senang membayangkan kira-kira apa yang akan perempuan itu rasakan. Bahagia, semoga. Atau senyuman kecil, itu sudah cukup untuknya.

Tetapi dia baru saja pergi ketika ia tiba.

Kecewa. Tapi tak rela menyerah begitu saja. Lelaki itu akan menunggu hingga perempuan itu kembali ke kantor sore nanti. Entah perempuan itu kembali sore nanti atau tidak. Dia biasanya kembali. Tapi malam ini pasti dia bekerja lagi. Jadwal di dinding kaca yang memberitahunya, menyuruhnya untuk menemui perempuannya.

Akhirnya lelaki itu menyiapkan bunga mawar, cheese cake strawberry, dan puisi cinta di meja kerja sang perempuan, yang tak ingin menemuinya. Ia tersenyum membayangkan perempuannya datang, terkejut akan barang-barang yang dilihatnya. Lalu setelah dia selesai membaca surat cinta itu, sang lelaki mengendap pelan-pelan mendekatinya, lalu mendekapnya dari belakang, atau sekadar meminta maaf sambil menatap dalam ke sepasang mata yang ia cinta.

Ia susun bunga mawar, cheese cake strawberry, dan puisi cinta itu di atas meja. Hmmm, tidak begini, bagaimana kalau ini disini, tidak juga. Puisi cinta diberdirikan? Kurang pas sepertinya. Atau begini saja ya, ia selalu memindah-mindahkan letak dan susunan bunga mawar, cheese cake strawberry, dan puisi cinta agar perempuan itu langsung tersenyum begitu melihatnya. Diletakkanyalah bunga mawar melintang diagonal di tengah meja ("Biar sesuai dengan tangkai mawar yang terlalu panjang") meniduri puisi cinta. Cheese cake strawberry diletakkan di sudut kiri atas lembat puisi dan itu membuat mereka terlihat manis, dan lelaki itu puas akan apa yang dilihatnya.

Ia bersembunyi menunggu perempuan itu datang. Berdebar hatinya. Ia tahu perempuan itu tidak mau menemuinya, tapi ia merasa harus menemui dia. Mungkin sebuah tamparan keras di pipi adalah jawabannya, tak mengapa. Lelaki itu rela melakukan apa saja dan diperlakukan bagaimana saja oleh perempuan itu. Asal tidak pernah ada kata berpisah. Karena ia tidak pernah ingin berpisah dari dia.

Ego sang lelaki membuat ia menelantarkan perempuannya. Tanpa pernah ia sadari betapa perempuannya telah terluka karena ego sang lelaki, hingga kini tak ingin menemuinya.

Lelaki itu merenung dengan muka muram. Kata maaf sudah tidak berarti sekarang, tidak cukup untuk membuat perempuan itu kembali padanya. Ia akan membuat perempuan itu jatuh cinta lagi padanya. Membuatnya teringat akan masa lalu, ketika ia pertama kali melihat perempuan itu, menaiki motornya, dan langsung jatuh cinta.

[Aku melihatmu sebagai kamu, sebagai dirimu apa adanya bukan ada apanya..]

Tanpa sadar sore telah menjelang. Sang perempuan tak kunjung datang. Satu-persatu teman-teman kantornya beranjak dari meja, entah pergi kemana atau pulang. Perempuan itu tak kembali lagi.

Kini ia sendiri di ruangan kantor. Lelaki itu bangkit dari tempat persembunyiannya menghampiri meja sang perempuan. Tak ada yang berubah. Bunga mawar masih berada pada posisi yang sama ketika ia tadi meninggalkannya. Begitu pula dengan puisi cinta. Cheese cake strawberry mulai mencair, membuatnya terlihat menggembung dan entah rasanya masih enak atau tidak.

Perempuan itu tidak datang malamnya.

Lelaki itu jatuh terduduk. Lututnya lemas, kakinya seperti mau lepas, lepas karena tidak kuat menopan berat tubuhnya.

Keheningan membalut luka ketika ia diam bersandar ke dniding. Teringat kembali akan semua kesalahannya pada perempuan itu, lelaki itu terseyum. Senyum penuh ironi, inikah akibat diriku menelantarkan cintamu ketika itu?

Ia ingin tertawa, menertawakan dirinya sendiri seperti orang gila. Namun ia merasa ia belum gila, jadi tersenyum saja. Air mata keluar lagi dari matanya.
Ia tetap tersenyum, sambil menangis.

Bunga mawar, cheese cake strawberry, dan puisi cinta, dan perasaan cinta yang tidak tersampaikan segera ia bawa pergi. Ia berlari dan terus berlari. Semua orang yang melihat mungkin akan menganggap ada orang gila sedang berlarisambil membawa bunga mawar di satu tangan, cheese cake strawberry dan puisi cinta di tangan lainnya, sambil mengucapkan kata-kata cinta. Lelaki itu juga tidak peduli. Perasaannya harus tersampaikan malam ini.

Lelah berlari, ia menarik nafas sejenak. Lelaki itu mendongak. Ia sudah berada di depan rumah perempuan itu. Mobilnya tidak ada, dia belum juga pulang. Lelaki itu membuka pintu pagar dan memutuskan untuk menunggu dia pulang di bangku teras.

Satu jam hingga dua jam berlalu, perempuan itu tak kunjung datang. Lelaki itu cemas dalam penantiannya, jangan-jangan dia mengalami kejadian entah apa. Perasaan cemas yang segera tergantikan kecewa. Kecewa karena tiba2 ponsel sang lelaki berbunyi, ada sms masuk yang segera ia baca,

[Kamu tidak usah menunggu aku.]

Dia sudah tau ia berada disitu. Mungkin dari ibunya yang telah melihat lelaki itu datang dan menunggu dia, namun dia tak kunjung juga ada. Dingin menyelimutinya perlahan.

[Banyak hal yang ingin aku bicarakan, tentang aku, tentang kamu, tentang kita, tentang apapun..]

Dingin membuat kakinya mati rasa. Seketika ia ingin mengutuki lubang besar di lutut celana jeans yang membuat lututnya malah kaku sekarang.
Tidak ada balasan dari perempuan itu. Lelaki itu menjadi bimbang apakah ia harus menunggu, atau pergi mencari, atau pulang ke rumah, apakah menitipkan setangkai bunga mawar, cheese cake strawberry, dan puisi cinta.

Ia duduk diam. Bunga mawar, cheese cake strawberry, dan puisi cinta masih tergenggam di tangannya. Merasa ditelantarkan, inikah yang telah ia lakukan dulu kepada sang perempuan?
Lelaki itu hanya bisa tersenyum, menangisi hatinya. Ia tidak tahu hal apa yang bisa dilakukan lagi selain tersenyum. Itulah yang bisa memaksakan dia harus merasa bahagia hanya demi sebuah alasan: karena ia tersenyum. Tapi hatinya hancur berkeping-keping.

Entah apa yang harus ia lakukan sekarang. Penantiannya sejak pagi, semuanya seakan sia-sia. Mungkin ia memang seharusnya menitipkan saja bunga mawar, cheese cake strawberry, dan puisi cinta itu daritadi dan beranjak pergi dari rumah perempuan itu sejak tadi juga, tapi tetap saja ia menunggu disana...

hujan, air mata

2007-02-25T11:36:00.000+07:00

[Uuuu, uuuuu… uuu, uuuuuuu...

Ku berjalan tiada henti tuk memastikan diri

Mencari apa yang terbaik di dalam hati ini… ]

Suara lirih nyanyian sendu terdengar mengisi kekosongan. Ada suara tidak jelas di luar yang segera terkalahkan oleh musik yang sengaja diputar kencang. Kamar yang tadinya sepi kini telah terisi. Terisi namun masih sunyi. Sunyi karena lelaki itu hanya sendiri di dalam ruangan. Diam, terus duduk menatap dinding berwarna krem pucat dan rak-rak yang penuh dengan CD-CD yang entah sudah berapa lama berada disitu.

Lelaki itu masih berada di pojok ruangan. Duduk, diam, dengan kedua kaki terlipat, dengan kedua tangan memeluk kedua kaki, dengan dagu bersandar lemas di atas lutut, dengan tubuh gemetar menahan rasa. Ia tidak bisa menamai rasa itu apa, tidak ada kata yang tepat untuk menamainya. Rasa itu membuat perutnya bergejolak aneh dan membuat ia tidak makan dua hari ini.

Lagu masih terdengar, lagu yang pernah membuatnya gemetar, hampir menangis. Lagu itu telah bisa mengatakan apa yang ada di hatinya untuk perempuan itu, karena lelaki itu bukanlah orang yang pandai berkata-kata. Lucu memang, terkadang lagu bisa menjadi sebuah cara manusia menyampaikan perasaan dalam bentuk kata. Lagu yang indah untuknya, dan untuk perempuannya. Pernah mereka mendengarkan lagu itu bersama di sebuah kamar, lelaki itu mendekap erat tubuh perempuan itu, tak ingin melepaskannya dari dekapan itu. Perempuan itu memejamkan mata, gemetar, takut cinta akan meninggalkannya. Ia berkata lirih, merintih,

[Jangan pernah tinggalkan aku..]

[Tidak, aku tidak akan meninggalkanmu..]

Janji itu terhembus dari kedua bibir yang bercumbu, lalu perlahan terbang menguap dan terukir di langit-langit kamar. Kamar yang kini sepi, tidak pernah lagi perempuan itu datangi.

Kini lagu itu hanya didengarkan oleh lelaki itu sendiri.

[Tak mudah tuk bisa mencari rasa yang telah mati

Namun asa telah menanti di dalam hati ini..]

Hujan turun dengan derasnya di luar. Benarkah turun hujan? Karena lelaki itu sendiri tidak dapat mendengar suara hujan, tapi kesedihannya memaksanya mendengar suara hujan. Kesedihannya memaksa ia untuk menangis, tapi tidak ada air mata yang keluar. Ia ingin mengeluarkan rintihan lirih seorang yang patah hati, namun tidak ada suara yang terdengar.

Tapi hujan benar-benar turun di luar, deras sekali. Ia tidak tahu, ternyata Tuhannya masih memperhatikan. Setiap tetes rintik hujan yang turun adalah air mata yang terwakili, air mata yang tidak bisa jatuh karena lelaki itu takut. Ia takut jika ia meneteskan air mata ia akan tenggelam oleh air mata kesedihannya, hanyut tenggelam, dan melarut di dalam lautan. Lautan yang menjadi asin karena tetesan air matanya.

[Tuhannya mengerti kesedihannya yang begitu besar dan dalam, maka hujan turun dengan derasnya.]

Setiap rintik hujan yang turun adalah kata cinta yang lelaki itu ingin katakan ke perempuan itu, seiring dengan betapa hancur perasaannya. Satu tetes jatuh ke ilalang adalah satu kata cinta yang ingin ia ucapkan ke hati perempuan itu, dan juga satu tetes air mata yang mengalir turun dari pelupuk mata melewati pipi dan dagu lalu jatuh turun membasahi pakaiannya.

Oh, andai saja perempuan itu tahu betapa menyedihkannya keadaan lelaki itu saat ini, akan ibakah ia? Lalu memeluknya?

[Peluklah tubuhku sayang, kesunyian mencekam menikamku pelan-pelan]

Betapa lelaki itu merindukan pelukan sang perempuan, rasanya seperti sudah bertahun-tahun ia tidak merasakannya. Ia selalu menyukai dekapan wanita itu, hangat dan membuatnya selalu bisa melupakan dunia. Lelaki itu memejamkan mata, mencoba merasakan dekapan yang ia cinta, namun kedua tangan yang melingkari punggungnya tetap tiada. Kepala yang bersandar di bahunya juga tiada. Namun ia masih bisa merasakan wangi parfum sang perempuan, juga dengan wangi rambut yang selalu ia cium.

[Kenapa kamu selalu mencium bahuku?]

[Agar ketika aku memejamkan mata, aku masih bisa mencium wangi parfummu, dan bisa merasakan kau ada dekat, di sebelahku..]

Yang ia rasakan hanyalah dingin mencekam, menghujam ubun-ubun kepala lalu turun ke dada dan membuatnya sesak nafas. Susah sekali ia mencoba bernafas, terengah-engah dan membuatnya ingin muntah. Membuat segalanya tampak menghitam...

[Bahkan aku harus berjuang hanya untuk bernafas sekarang..]

Ada suara terdengar. Familiar. Bukan, bukan, bukan seperti suara hujan, nyanyian bulan, atau angin malam yang biasa ia dengar. Lelaki itu terlonjak, samar ia merasakan suara panggilan sayang si perempuan. Cepat ia berdiri, berlari ke arah pintu dan membukanya. Senyumnya merekah untuk kemudian segera musnah. Pintu yang terbuka semua. Lelaki itu berada di bagian dalamnya tanpa perlu ada perempuan di bagian luarnya. Tidak ada siapa-siapa diluar sana.

Kecewa dan lunglai, ia melangkah gontai kembali ke sudut kamar. Kembali duduk termangu. Kembali memeluk kedua kakinya yang terlipat. Ruangan yang lega itu membunuhnya. Tidak pernah begitu jika perempuan itu ada. Lelaki itu memandang ke arah pintu yang masih tertutup rapat, berharap pintu itu akan terbuka dan ia bisa melihat senyum perempuan itu yang mengatakan,

[Aku telah kembali, aku tidak pernah pergi dari sisimu walau sedetikpun, sayang..]

tapi sia-sia, karena pintu itu tidak pernah terbuka. Bahkan imajinasinya tidak bisa berbuat apapun untuk menipu matanya. Tidak ada seorang pun disana. Tidak lagi ada senyum yang ia inginkan. Tidak lagi ada dekapan yang menenangkan. Tidak lagi ada suara yang mengatakan cinta.

Lelaki itu terdiam sejenak. Wangi parfum itu sudah tiada.

Ia memejamkan mata, mencoba membaui parfum itu sekali lagi, namun benar-benar tidak ada apa-apa. Sia-siakah ia berusaha?

Ia mencoba untuk tidak berpikir apa-apa, mencoba untuk menahan air mata jatuh dari pinggiran matanya. Tapi tubuhnya berguncang hebat. Tapi makin susah ia bernafas. Dan tanpa pernah ia sadari, setetes air mata jatuh mengalir di atas permukaan pipi kirinya. Tangan kanannya meraih air mata itu, mencoba menghapus air mata itu dari pipinya. Tapi tidak bisa. Air mata itu terus turun walaupun sudah berusaha ia hapus. Kini di pipi kanannya. Hingga kedua pipi itu basah oleh air mata yang terus mengalir turun tanpa bisa ia hentikan.

[Setiap tetes air mataku mengatakan betapa aku mencintaimu, betapa aku menginginkanmu malam ini, andai saja kau tahu..]

Kemudian malam itu, hujan deras telah berhenti. Tanpa suara, lelaki itu menangis sejadi-jadinya...

A Love Letter to Julia

2007-02-24T12:56:00.000+07:00

Julia,

Red is the rose ,

red is a strawberry ,

red is the strawberry in the strawberry cheese cake

[Red never tells you lies, Dear...] .

Red is the wine,

I drank it and it made me warm

just like your love .

Red is your blushing cheeks

each time I sang Apple to you .

Red is your heart that I love,

Red is the love that I feel

everytime you are near,

here .

I've let you down so many times, I know .

But if the past meant to be that way

and sorry still doesn't change a thing ,

I'll live to make you smile again today ,

tomorrow,

and the day after ...

Love you,

Joni.

contempted morning

2007-01-29T20:01:00.000+07:00

A nice way, I think to wake up with you..
- One Flew Over, Eight Was Destroyed, Mew -

Dingin di pagi hari membuatku
terbangun. Sementara rintik hujan
masih terdengar di luar
sana, membuat suara tik-tik-tik..
Seperti lagu kanak-kanak dulu.
Tik-tik-tik, bunyi hujan di atas genting
Sementara kau masih tertidur
lelap,
aku bangun dan membetulkan selimut.
Menghangatkanmu, menatap wajah yang
lelah.
Beristirahatlah sejenak, disisiku kau yang
telah
datang dan menemaniku malam ini:
Tak pernah akan kubiarkan kau pergi...

2007-01-12T16:28:00.000+07:00

Sidang sudah selesai.
Pengumuman sudah keluar.
Walaupun sempat deg-degan hati ini tadinya, tapi akhirnya lega karena...
saya lulus TA 10 sks sialan itu!
Hohoho.
Tapi tetep aja masih harus internship jadi belum bisa lulus Maret, paling Juli.
Ah, sudahlah, yang penting TA sudah selesai.
Hohoho, senangnya...

2007-01-09T10:37:00.000+07:00

Di saat harus ngurusin Tugas Akhir (sialan) dan internship, yang saya lakukan malah pacaran dan ngeband.
Hhh, skala prioritas dong, skala prioritas!

New Year's Resolution

2007-01-01T03:29:00.000+07:00

It's already new year now. I couldn't get some sleep so I think I'll just write things on the blog.

What would I write anyway?

Hmm, let's start with some unimportant things like it's already half hour past three in the morning. And it's already January 1st which means it is a new year for me, for us to face. And when it's new year, it always comes up with resolutions, goddam resolutions: something to achieve, something to put your hopes on.
What are my resolutions?

...dammit, I couldn't think about any. Maybe the liquor doesn't give me enough power to think. Hmm, I gave up drinking last year, I just hate it when I am on that tipsy thing. When I was drunk, I couldn't control the way I acted, or the way I spoke although maybe I was just blabbering about nonsense and crap or something like that. Plus the hangover and the puke at the closet ritual in the next morning was something I didn't like, yeah, it was such a bothersome thing.
But I think it is allright anyway since I didn't make such resolution as "Drink Liquor No More". See, it turns out perfectly okay if you don't make resolutions: you can't blame yourself when bad things happened.

Break. I need water. My mouth feels terribly bitter. It's the effect of the cigs, I'm smoking too much lately. I've been trying to quit smoking but it turns out just to be another big nonsense. My not-smoking-record last year is only a month and aftr that I just did helluvalot more smoking. Addicted to cigs, I am. But hey, it's fine anyway since I don't make "Give Up Smoking" as my resolutions last year. To tell you the truth, I just don't make any resolutions last year. I just don't feel like I have to make one.
So I don't feel bad when the liquors and cigs doesn't go away from me.

Come to think of it, I think I have to make resolutions to make a better of me. It's not that I don't want it too, but I can be such a guy with some poor memory. Luckily, I have Julia now. Yes, she likes to send me messages to keep reminding me things such as don't forget to meet the lecturer for the architecture project, don't forget to eat, don't forget this, don't forget that. She really cares a lot for me, and that's a thing that I like from her. It's like she wants me to be a better person. And because of that, I, myself, want to be better man too. Like the old Robbie said, Lord I'm doing all I can to be a better man. So why don't I make resolutions for this year to change myself better. Splendid, isn't it? You wouldn't know unless you try, that's what Julia often told me.

Julia, Julia... It's funny how she always comes up to my mind in the end.

Haha.

I'm gonna grab my cellphone, and sent her a message:
Julia, let's make our resolutions together...

you're not a LOOSER, lad, you're a LOSER.

2006-12-16T08:49:00.000+07:00

Oh, please...

You're trying to find a reason why. Why she choose another man. Why she left you. The truth is you're the one who left her behind. The fact is eleven month is a long time to get a life on. She had already moved on. Why can't you just accept that.

For that reason, I pity you...

Don't try to compare yourself with him. It just make you silly. A new car make you looks rich and cool? No, lad, it's a very shallow thinking. You think the material things? Not the money. No, it's the love and affection. Another man gives that to her, and it makes her feel very rich.

The truth is, you can't live alone while she's not alone. You can't accept the fact that she's happy without you. She's loving another person that is not you.

For that reason, I pity you...

You just wanted to look better than him. If he said he'll graduate in July, the next day you told everyone that you'll graduate on June. But the truth is, you're already late two year, buddy.
You don't need to force yourself to prove that you're better than him. Just to make her to look at you. But you know what, she doesn't even care for you.

For that reason, I pity you...

You're telling the story to all the people you know. You're looking for supports, you're trying to justify yourself. You're looking for people to make him and her look wrong. In the end, everyone tells you to leave them alone. You can't accept that, can you?
Jealousy envies you.

And for that reason, I pity you...

When suddenly the man came, you meet him, you just try to look cool and call your (ex)honey the way you wanted to. You just try to make her look like she still loves you. That makes you become the winner. But you're already lose. Since you're running away and just take a look at them from a distance. You're trying not to confrontate, you can say that. But I say it's just the act of a cowardice. You're coward and can't even have a face-to-face situation.

For that reason, I pity you...

You're placing your-new-girl-with-you pictures. But then you said that you want to be with your ex, you write how you love her much. Please, consider your new-girl's feelings, moron. Learn to act mature sometimes, not from the age, but from the way you ACT.

How many times, really, do I have to pity you?

PS:
Past is already past. She used to love you. It was, not is.
And please, don't even compare yourself to me.
She loves me for the side that you completely don't have.

And you know what, I don't even care for you. So stop to think that I'll get irritated by your acts, it just make you looks silly.
What can I say. The truth is I laughed at you so many times: you even pronounced LOSER with a double "O", haha...

renungan di awal desember...

2006-12-05T09:19:00.000+07:00

...setelah ke Jakarta dalam rangka Annemarie tampil dalam acara PL Fair hari Minggu kemarin:
1. apa jadinya hidup kita tanpa jalan tol Cipularang.
2. udara panas Jakarta masih membuat saya kesal.
3. mode fashion cewe-cewe SMA sekarang: kaos oblong dengan celana pendek ("Celana di atas lutut!" kata Uncrit).
4. Samsons mempunyai aksi panggung yang lumayan bagus.
5. The Adams ngepet, live-nya jauh lebih bagus dari Samsons.
6. begitu rupanya rasanya jadi artis tenar yang tampil dalam panggung besar 50 m x 10 m dengan sound system entah berapa ribu watt dan puluhan lampu menyala di atas panggung. sempat grogi juga main di stage kaya gitu, haha.
7. Kinky Burger di daerah Mayestik rasanya biasa saja dan sangatlah tidak kinky.
8. i cant live without AC di Jakarta.
9. tidur di pelukan kekasih hati sangatlah menyenangkan (dan menenangkan juga).
10. it's good to be back in Bandung again dan makan bubur di subuh hari dengan udara dingin menyegarkan sehabis hujan walaupun menggigil agak kedinginan.

Cukup waktu berkontemplasi.
Sekarang waktunya beraksi, reaksi dari hasil kontemplasi.

Hmm, bagaimana dengan Anda semua?
Sudahkah Anda berkontemplasi di awal bulan ini?

Hujan Tengah Malam

2006-11-27T14:24:00.000+07:00

Hujan. Akhirnya turun hujan.

Saya tidak pernah bisa bisa menyukai hujan. Hujan adalah peringatan. Hujan adalah sepi yang menekan. Hujan adalah titik dimana semua rasa terlepaskan, terbebaskan turun ke bumi untuk kembali menguap kembali ke awan.

Semalam saya terbangun. Tengah malam. Entah kenapa perasaan tidak enak. Tenggorokan seperti tercekat. Seperti menelan duri. Saya tidak ingat pernah menelan duri sebelumnya, tentu saja, mungkin ini hanya sebuah firasat buruk, pertanda. Pertanda sesuatu, tapi apa? Duka? Suka?

Tidak mungkin suka. Perasaan tidak enak selalu pertanda buruk. Seperti di film atau cerita. Cerita yang tidak selalu berakhir dengan bahagia. Seperti cerita tentang Gadis Ophelia. Mungkin nanti saya akan bercerita tentang Gadis Ophelia, saat ini pikiran saya masih mencari. Mencari alasan mengapa saya terbangun malam ini.

Saya duduk bersandar pada bantal yang bersandar ke dinding pula. Dalam kamar, sendirian. Televisi masih menyala. Tapi suaranya samar. Hanya hembusan nafas terdengar, pelan-pelan pertanda sadar.
Dan hujan turun deras di luar sana, di balik dinding yang memisahkan luar dan dalam. Hangat dan dingin. Memisahkan kita. Memisahkan saya dan kamu, entah dimana.

Saya mencoba mengingat-ingat mimpi apa yang membuat perasaan saya tercekat. Namun tidak bisa ingat. Jangan-jangan memang tidak bermimpi sama sekali. Hingga saya menyadari betapa hujan di luar sana membuat saya menggigil kedinginan. Hingga tubuh saya selimutkan. Hingga perasaan kembali nyaman. Namun tetap saja otak masih membutuhkan alasan. Alasan mengapa saya harus terbangun tengah malam.

Apakah karena hujan?

Hujan. Saya benci kamu, Hujan.

Hujan adalah tangisan. Hujan adalah perpisahan. Hujan adalah kebencian awan yang menolak menyimpan tetes-tetes air dan kemudian dijatuhkan kembali ke bumi.

Dan saya tetap terjaga, entah untuk berapa lama saat itu: satu menitkah, satu jamkah, bahkan satu dasawarsa tak akan terasa bedanya. Jam di atas televisi itu sudah tidak bergerak lagi sejak kapan, saya selalu lupa mengganti baterainya. Ataukah waktu memang berhenti sejak tadi?

Julia.
Julia?
Ada apa dengan Julia?

Telepon tiba-tiba berbunyi. Kejutan. Tengah malam. Membuat penasaran, siapa gerangan yang menelepon saya tengah malam.
Halo?
...Joni?
Julia rupanya.
Ada apa, Julia?
Aku bermimpi, buruk sekali. Entah kenapa mimpi itu datang mengganggu. Aku tidak tahu.
...tenanglah Julia, semuanya akan baik-baik saja.
Peluk aku Joni..
Selalu, Julia..

Beberapa menit kemudian percakapan terhenti. Sendiri lagi. Sepi lagi. Apakah telepon tadi sebuah alasan? Sebuah pertanda? Sebuah jawaban? Jawaban mengapa hujan turun dan saya harus terbangun?

Tidak ada suara lagi selain hembusan nafas yang keluar pelan dan terdengarkan. Juga rintik hujan yang semakin deras mengeras, membuat nafas semakin terdengar tak jelas.

...

Hujan.
Semakin saya membenci dirimu, Hujan...

Dialog

2006-11-26T01:50:00.000+07:00

Kenapa kamu mencintai aku?

Memangnya kenapa? Tidak boleh?

Bukan begitu. Aku hanya ingin tau alasan kamu.

Apakah butuh alasan untuk mencintai kamu?

Hmm, tapi aku orang yang sangat logis. Aku butuh alasan.

Well, terimalah fakta kalau aku mencintai kamu saat ini.

Betul begitu?

Ya.

Kalau begitu aku juga mencintai kamu.

Oh, jadi kamu mencintai aku karena aku bilang aku mencintai kamu? Seandainya aku bilang aku tidak mencintai kamu kamu juga tidak mencintai aku?

Bukan. Kalau begitu aku akan tetap mencintai kamu walaupun kamu tidak mencintai aku.

Kenapa begitu?

Apakah butuh alasan untuk mencintai kamu?

intermezzo..

2006-11-22T09:10:00.000+07:00

Julia curang.
Dia bisa menyanyikan lagu I've Got Johny In My Head sementara saya bingung mencari-cari lagu yang ada kata-kata Julia-nya..
Apa?
The Beatles?
Tidak, saya tidak begitu suka dengan lagu yang itu, nadanya aneh. Saya juga tidak suka The Beatles kok.
Lagu apa ya..

* * *

Julia sialan.
Sekarang semua teman kerja di kantornya mengetahui blog ini.
Saya tidak terlalu suka.
Mampus.

* * *

Biar lebih terkonsentrasi buat kalian yang ingin membaca Balada Joni dan Julia, silakan buka blognya di http://baladajonidanjulia.blogspot.com/ atau klik disini.
Saya tetap akan post di blog ini dan nantinya akan saya post di blog barusan itu juga. Cerita-ceritanya belum dibikin juga sih, yaaaa, liat aja beberapa posting sebelum ini sebagai cerita pembuka yang akan dipost ke sana.
Haha.

Balada Joni dan Julia di Atas Motor

2006-11-20T13:24:00.000+07:00

Julia.
Suka naik motor. Tidak tanggung-tanggung: Thunder yang kalau dinaiki membuat badannya yang kecil makin terlihat mungil. Yang juga kalau dinaiki membuat para lelaki yang mendekati menjadi kecil hati mengurungkan niat mendekat lalu pergi.
Hal yang membuat Julia kesal setengah mati.

Pada suatu hari Julia pulang dengan motor Thunder kesayangannya. Ia terkejut. Di depan rumahnya duduk seorang Joni. Tampang Joni diam seperti memikirkan kata-kata. Joni diam seribu bahasa. Apalagi Julia, yang takut Joni akan berkata menghina seperti lelaki lainnya:
Ih, cewe kok naik motor Thunder. Nggak pantes!
Julia mendekati Joni. Tampang Joni masih menunjukkan kebingungan. Tampang Julia menunjukkan kegelisahan. Lalu Joni berkata:
Bwahaha, cewe kok naik motor Thunder. Lucu!
Julia ternganga. Karena tidak mengira Joni akan tertawa. Namun dalam hati merasa lega, lega karena Joni menerima dirinya apa adanya dan bukan ada apanya.

Joni.
Joni tidak pernah bisa naik motor. Teman-teman Joni kadang mencerca,
Cowo kok nggak bisa naik motor?!
Hal yang membuat Joni bingung: sejak kapan gender menjadi pertimbangan bisa naik motor atau tidak? Bukannya tidak mau, ia hanya merasa itu tidak perlu. Toh ia tidak punya motor dan tidak punya SIM C, katanya. Katanya juga,
Buat apa ada supir angkot?
Dasar Joni cuek setengah mati. Sangat tidak peduli.

Pertama kali Joni melihat Julia pulang ke rumahnya menaiki motor Thunder kesayangan Julia itu, Joni diam seribu bahasa. Ia hanya berpikir,
wow, motornya bagus..
Dan juga,
wow, dia jadi terlihat kecil sekali...
Dan pikiran lain seperti,
wow, saya lapar, ngantuk pula belum tidur dua hari..
Membuatnya menghasilkan mimik bingung nan autis sebelum Joni sadar kalau Julia mendekati. Tampang Julia menunjukkan kegelisahan, mungkin grogi. Lalu Joni berkata:
Bwahaha, cewe kok naik motor Thunder. Lucu!
Dasar Joni seperti orang gila. Mikir saja kok lama. Otak Joni memang sedikit berlebihan. Julia ternganga. Karena tidak mengira Joni akan tertawa. Namun dalam hati merasa lega, lega karena Joni menerima dirinya apa adanya dan bukan ada apanya.

Jadilah malam minggu itu mereka pergi nonton ke bioskop. Naik motor Julia. Tentu saja Julia menyetir motor dan Joni dibelakangnya. Udara malam dingin menghembus mereka di jembatan layang Pasupati. Joni melihat-lihat ke kanan kiri. Banyak pasangan yang sedang pacaran di pinggir jembatan. Saling berpelukan.
Lalu Joni memeluk Julia dari belakang. Tapi Julia protes, katanya, geli. Joni menarik tangannya lagi lalu tertawa kecil. Joni senang sekali. Akan dia ingat malam ini.

Prolog

2006-11-20T13:19:00.000+07:00

Joni.
Mahasiswa. Dua puluh dua. Tampang biasa tapi lumayan gaya. Romantis katanya. Cuek setengah mati. Selalu dikira orang tidak mandi. Suka melihat langit dan langit-langit setiap hari. Tidak suka ikan. Tidak suka sambal karena pedas dan bikin keringatan. Oleh karena itu, ia tidak akan pernah makan ikan sambal. Tapi ia menyukai Julia.

Julia.
Mahasiswi. Dua tahun lebih muda dari Joni. Pintar. Sedikit maskulin. Dandanan tetap feminin. Suka ikan. Suka pedas. Suka ikan sambal yang pedas. Suka menyendiri. Kecewa karena cinta yang telah mati. Berjanji tidak akan jatuh cinta lagi. Namun ia menemukan Joni.

Berdua akhirnya mereka membuat cerita:
Balada Joni dan Julia.

Hmm, nantikan saja.

november 18 sore hari di cubicle julia

2006-11-18T17:38:00.000+07:00

Ya. 18 November lagi. Ulang tahun lagi.
Dan seperti layaknya orang yang berulang tahun, setelah tengah malam hp saya terus berbunyi menerima sms yang masuk. Huh, mengganggu orang yang mau tidur saja. Tapi tidak apa-apalah, sekali setahun ini. Untung saja ulang tahun itu cuma satu hari dalam satu tahun. Coba kalau tiap hari, bisa gila juga nggak bisa tidur karena hp terus bunyi setiap tengah malam. Dan juga, istilahnya jadi terasa tidak enak didengar: ulang hari.

Maaf, malam ini saya capek sekali. Jadi, hp saya silent dan saya tidur dulu. Tepat setelah Mama memberikan ucapan selamat plus kecupan lama di pipi kanan.

* * *

Pagi-pagi bangun dan benar saja: you got 18 new messages.
Hmm, saya baca satu-satu. Ada yang standar, ada yang cukup meriah, ada yang lucu. Seperti pesan dari Budi, Bada, dan Badu:

[From: Budi Bada Badu
Jon, met ultah. Wish u all the best!
Komik Calvin and Hobbes pertama kali muncul jg tgl 18 November. Tp 1985.
Lu 1984 kan? Atau 1884?
Ya'olo, tua banget lu Jon!]

Haha, dasar mereka. Saya memang tergila-gila dengan Calvin and Hobbes dan bisa-bisanya dikaitkan dengan ulang tahun.
Dan yang najis seperti ini:

[From: Sahala Maynard
Jonbi, met ultah ya. Smoga panjang umur, panjang kuliah,
panjang t*t*t, panjang list mantan.
Pokoknya panjang segalanya.
Jon, lo tau kan gw sayang ama lo!!
cup2 muah2...]

Tai lo La, FYI gua NGGAK akan sayang sama lo kok. Ya minimal juga kalo gua gay, gua ga akan jadi pacar lo, haha.

Wah, terimakasihlah buat kalian semua teman-teman...

* * *

Hmm, saya sedang tidak ada kerjaan. Menunggu Julia sebenarnya. Dia sedang bekerja di studio. Dan saya menunggu di cubicle-nya. Berinternet ria. Lambat sialnya. Buka email. Menulis cerita ini di blog. Juga buka friendster. Ternyata di friendster juga ada testimoni untuk saya, masih seputar ulang tahun ria.

Ah, cukup-cukup. Tidak usah membahas ulang tahun terus-terusan. Karena seselesainya Julia bekerja, kami akan pergi kencan. Sekali-sekali Julia datang ke cubicle-nya menengok saya, siapa tau saya merasa bosan dan butuh hiburan. Dan saya menyapa,

"Hai cantik.."
"Apa sih ah.."
"...halo jelek..."
" (tersenyum) halo juga, jelek..."

kemudian dia kembali ke studio. Tapi saya cukup sabar ternyata menunggu dia. Lagipula, di cable tadi ada Pocoyo (ah, sudah lama saya tidak menonton Pocoyo) dan itu cukup membuat saya terhibur.

Ah, malam cepatlah datang dan jangan pagi menjelang.

Balasan dari Julia

2006-11-17T18:59:00.000+07:00

You've got the ticket, Joni. Tiket untuk mengobrol sampai puas. Untuk membicarakan dan mendebatkan banyak hal. Membicarakan banyak buku. Melihat banyak gambar sambil makan cheese cake dengan balutan blueberry. Sambil bergandengan tangan melewati lift yang sempit dan lorong yang gelap tanpa merasa sesak tanpa takut pobhia menyerang di saat tak terduga.

Si Gadis Ophelia, punya alasan sendiri kenapa dia hanya diam, kenapa dia hanya tertawa di dalam mimpi-mimpinya, kenapa dia berhenti berbicara, kenapa bibirnya yang dingin membeku untuk berhenti tersenyum, kenapa si Gadis Ophelia hanya duduk sendiri termenung menatap matahari terbenam.
Mungkin... karena dia sendirian. Dan merindukan seseorang disisinya.

Hey Joni, Mari kita berjalan bergandengan tangan, besok...

* dia memanggil saya Joni, dan saya baru ngeh kalau kata Johny dalam lagu I've Got Johny In My Head yang dia katakan itu adalah saya, Joni...

Surat Untuk Julia

2006-11-17T02:44:00.000+07:00

Sudah jam 2.22 pagi dan saya masih di studio. Tempat printnya sudah tutup sekarang, tapi katanya jam 5 akan buka lagi. Mungkin jam 5 nanti saya kesana.

Studio sepi. Hanya beberapa orang yang terjaga. Sidang tinggal 4 jam lagi dan saya tidak merasakan emosi apa-apa. Tidak tegang. Tidak senang. Tidak kesal.
Semuanya terasa datar.
Mungkin juga karena saya lelah, otak sudah jenuh, tidak mau memikirkan apa-apa lagi karena sudah terlalu penuh.

...
Kamu tahu apa yang saya inginkan sekarang?

Ketika semua ini selesai dan saya mempunyai semua waktu di dunia ini untuk saya habiskan, saya ingin terus bersama kamu, entah sekedar bercerita tentang angin yang menyampaikan salam dari ksatria tadi malam, atau tentang bulan memberitahukan kepada saya betapa indahnya dirimu bertualang di dunia mimpi hingga mentari lagi. Mendengar cerita mereka membuat saya tersenyum, dan membuat saya terus terjaga tanpa bisa tidur.

Kita bisa duduk atau tiduran di padang penuh ilalang, tanpa takut kehabisan waktu karena pagi tak akan menjelang jika kita tak saling melepaskan pegangan tangan. Atau berciuman di bawah bayangan pohon willow sambil berpelukan tanpa pernah merasa dingin karena perasaan kita saling menghangatkan.

Dan saya berharap lusa akan segera tiba agar saya bisa pergi ke hatimu dan mengetuk pintu di dindingnya yang merah jambu hingga kaubukakan dan mengajak saya bermain di dalamnya..

Saya merindukan kamu, Julia..

* dan ketika saya memejamkan mata saya saat ini, saya masih mencium wangi parfum yang kamu pakai tadi malam, dan itu membuat saya senang karena merasa kamu masih berada di sebelah saya...

kontemplasi pagi 5:19

2006-11-15T06:09:00.000+07:00

Pagi hari. Cahaya mentari
menyilaukan mata dari sebelah kiri.
Masih subuh. Sudah jenuh
tapi belum juga tidur. Mungkin
setelah semuanya selesai aku akan tertidur lelap
tidak hanya sekejap.

Jalan Dago masih sepi. Udara dingin
menembus masuk ke paru-paru. Sementara rokok ini
tak kunjung habis. Hanya aku di luar berdiri
menikmati langit subuh yang memerah
sementara kau masih tenggelam dalam mimpi-
mimpimu yang kucintai.

Matahari terbit merah perlahan berubah
jingga. Mengajakku tertawa. Tawa yang dipaksa.
Karena kau masih tenggelam dalam mimpi,
mimpiku akan dirimu yang kucintai.

selasar plano

2006-11-14T17:47:00.000+07:00

Tadi saya berjalan di selasar Plano dan melihat si mantan yang saya benci karena selingkuh itu bersama adiknya sedang berjalan ke arah saya di samping kanan jauh saya.
[Otak saya sedang jenuh. ]
Saya berinisiatif melupakan dendam di masa lalu. Katanya, bukanlah permintaan maaf yang penting, tapi keinginan untuk memaafkan.
Sudahlah, masa lalu biarlah berlalu, mari kita mulai lembaran berlalu.
Jadi saya tersenyum sedikit sambil terus berjalan. Entah dia melihat atau tidak.

Tapi kemudian saya mendengar suara tawa dia dari kejauhan.

...
Okay, maybe I'll reconsider about the forgiving things...

2006-11-10T17:33:00.000+07:00

Hari ini di studio TA banyak sekali teman-teman yang akan lulus (diwisuda besok). Semuanya berdatangan dari kampung halaman. Well, mereka sudah nggak kuliah lagi semester ini, karena tinggal diwisuda itu.

Dan mereka semua bicara tentang kerja, mau jadi apa ntar, mau jadi arsitek di Singapore atau nggak, mau nikah kapan, bla bla bla.
Dan sialnya mereka semua berkumpul di cubicle saya. Saya serius di depan komputer, mereka ngobrol sambil duduk di belakang saya.
Dasar tidak sopan, jadinya saya terpaksa ikut mendengarkan mereka ngobrol bla bla bla tadi walaupun mata masih melihat komputer.
Dan jadinya saya juga menjadi memikirkan mau jadi apa nanti, mau kerja dimana nanti, mau nggak nikah atau nikah, bla bla bla.

Huh,
pikiran saya jenuh.
Perut saya menjadi penuh.
Jadi ingin berkontemplasi di kloset untuk sementara.

hasil pergaulan bersama mtv tengah malam

2006-11-09T11:11:00.000+07:00

Ada yang tahu band berjudul Whisper Desire?
Ini kedua kalinya saya melihat video klipnya di MTVnya Global. Klipnya lumayan bagus. Lagunya juga. Tapi bukan itu yang bikin saya penasaran. Sepertinya saya pernah dengar nama Whisper Desire. Curiganya sih band anak ITB juga...

* * *

Saya lagi suka-sukanya dengan Muse (lagi). Gara-gara lagi nggak ada kerjaan Minggu siang, jadinya tidur-tiduran di kamar dan akhirnya nyalain TV. Eh, ada Arctic Monkey di MTV Live. Lumayan. Panggungnya gede, acara outdoor. Kaya standar Glastonbury. Ternyata habis Arctic Monkey satu jam, ada Muse masih di MTV Live.

Whoa, tempatnya di gedung teater tua yang (hanya) panggungnya disulap jadi modern dengan background screen LCD plus lampu warna-warni. Puas, puas sekali. Penampilan panggung mereka memang nggak ada matinya, walaupun bertiga tapi nggak ada sedikitpun bagian yang terasa kosong. Angle-angle yang diambil kameramennya bagus lagi. Kalo saya jadi editornya acara itu saya udah merasa di surga dapet footage bagus-bagus kaya gitu.

* * *

Dan saya sedang suka-sukanya juga sama lagu Starlight-nya Muse plus videoklipnya (sampai bela-belain download videoklip dari internet). Lagunya sedih. Matthew Bellamy selalu bisa nyari nada-nada falsetto yang bagus dan masukin emosinya ke lagu. Saya ikut sedih waktu saya dengerin lagunya sambil memejamkan mata.

Video klipnya bikin saya tambah depressed. Sepi terasa, kesenduan merajalela. Apalagi adegan pas malam-malam dan mereka dishoot dengan fill in cahaya merah kelap-kelip dari kembang api.

Seperti itu. Dan ini..

Dasar DOP keparat, gambar-gambarnya bagus semua.

* * *

Dasar Peter Pan, videoklipnya bagus-bagus semua. Tapi saya suka dengan klip Bila Aku Jatuh Cinta-nya Nidji. Gerakan slow motion, setting yang perfect dengan tone-tone klasik, ambience coklat (atau kuning ya?) yang menyelimuti klip dari awal sampai akhir, dan lengkungan di sudut frame itu membuat perfect. Kesannya klasik sekali.

Oh, betapa saya ingin membuat video klip seperti itu.

* * *

Oh ya. Klip Utopia - Homogenic bikin saya penasaran juga: berapa liter cat yang ditumpahkan dan apa yang terjadi kemudian ke tanah, kolam, dan pohon yang ditumpahin cat itu. Tapi pemilihan warna catnya bagus. Bagus, bagus...

* * *

Enaknya nongkrongin MTV tengah malam: banyak video klip band lokal: hampir semua! Jadi tau perkembangan dunia klip musik dalam negeri...

kalau jodoh tak lari kemana..

2006-11-08T16:41:00.000+07:00

Sore-sore di LFM. Duduk. Ngobrol. Eh, ada cakru yang lumayan lucu itu lagi ngobrol sama cakru-cakru yang lain. Saya mau sekedar menegur dia, tapi itu berarti saya harus berdiri, jalan kesana beberapa meter, lalu kembali duduk lagi. Dan anak-anak LFM tinggal ribut ciah cieh.

Nggak jadi deh. Jadinya duduk aja sambil menatap dari kejauhan. Kayanya dia ngeliatin juga sih. Liat-liatan deh jadinya. Atau saya yang ge-er ya?

Eh, nggak taunya pas pulang malam2 kita naik di angkot yang sama: rumahnya searah. Jauh lagi, jadi bisa ngobrol lama.
Memang kalau jodoh tak lari kemana..

250 kilometer in one night

2006-11-07T14:46:00.000+07:00

Senin malam:
19.00 di Bandung
21.00 di Pondok Gede
21.15 makan di McD Tamini
22.30 hangout di J.Co Citos
23.20 masuk tol meninggalkan Jakarta
23.40 mampir ke Starbucks yang di tol, mau ngopi lagi tapi sayangnya sudah tutup
01.15 keluar tol Pasteur
01.20 di Bandung lagi.

Kalau dipikir-pikir, ngapain juga jauh2 ke Jakarta pulang-pergi dalam sehari semalam kalau ujung-ujungnya disana makan McD lagi, J.Co lagi, dan juga Starbucks lagi?
Iseng.
Yeah. Hit me anywhere except on the face.

Tapi saya benar-benar kangen dengan Cipularang di sore hari. Sayangnya sekarang pergi malam dan pulang masih malam juga, jadi tidak kelihatan apa-apa. Menurut saya, Cipularang adalah jalan tol dengan pemandangan bagus, apalagi menjelang matahari terbenam dengan cahaya kuning senja yang temaram...

* * *

Obrolan di McD Tamini:
"Burger + french fries + cola = cara bunuh diri pelan-pelan.."
(people laughing)
"Oh, tambah satu lagi tuh biar makin mantep.."
"Apaan?"
"Rokok..."

* * *

Di sela-sela orang tertawa, saya melihat bulan purnama di langit Jakarta. Jakarta yang saya benci, Jakarta yang kamu cinta. Saya benci karena langitnya yang kelabu, kamu cinta karena terbiasa sedari dulu.
Biasanya saya langsung akan menghubungi kamu atau sekadar mengirim sms yang kurang lebih berbunyi,
"...semoga purnama yang kucinta menyinari Jakartamu yang kelam,
agar jangan pernah kamu tenggelam.."
Sejenak saya melihat hp yang tergenggam di tangan, menarik nafas, menghela nafas, memandanginya sebentar lagi, mengedip-ngedipkan mata, mengucapkan kata-kata tak bernada tanpa suara, lalu memandang penuh tanya kepada purnama, hingga akhirnya logika menyuruh tangan saya meletakkan hp itu dan membiarkannya tergeletak terbalik di atas meja.

...masa lalu biarlah berlalu. Ingin rasanya saya menelpon kamu, but in truth, I'm lost for words if I hear your voice. It recalls me the old memories, it gives me the chill, walaupun udara Jakarta seperti biasa panas malam itu.
Ya, tanpa saya sadari saya merindukan kamu, Ndahz...

PS.1: Sms itu akhirnya terkirim pukul tiga tiga empat dini hari keesokan harinya ketika saya sudah kembali di Bandung dan masih belum bisa tidur karena terlalu banyak minum kopi hari itu..
PS.2: Diiringi lagu Chocolate-nya Snow Patrol, perasaan saya makin mellow...

2006-11-05T19:33:00.001+07:00

Dari khotbah yang saya dengarkan di gereja:
"... dan Tuhan tidak peduli IP Saudara berapa."
Hmm,
bisa nggak ya jadi jawaban waktu Mama nanyain IP?

things constantly change, it's you who not noticing...

2006-11-05T19:27:00.000+07:00

Senang rasanya bertemu teman-teman lama.
Nostalgia.
Semalam saya merasakan kembali masa-masa 4 tahun yang lalu, waktu saya masih cakru yang sedang berjuang mau masuk unit film. Dan mereka adalah kru-kru tua yang seenaknya minta dibikinin kopi..

"Tapi kopinya nggak ada gitu.. (ngeles)"
"Nih duit (hasil patungan lima menit), beli kopinya sana.."
"Gulanya juga habis.. (keukeuh ngeles)"
"Jangan lupa beli gulanya sekalian!"

Sekarang, kami - saya dan teman-teman seangkatan - yang baru datang ke rumah salah satu alumni dalam rangka acara halal-bihalal, langsung disuruh bikin sirup. Walaupun kami sudah kru, tapi mereka sudah jadi alumni. Tetap saja statusnya lebih tinggi. Semua joke dan sindir-sindiran tentang masa lalu pun muncul kembali, tentang si ini yang pernah ngecengin itulah, tentang itu yang dikerjainlah, blablabla. Semuanya ketawa, saya juga.

Senang sekali saya bisa bertemu dan mendengarkan joke mereka lagi. Dasar alumni LFM gila garing semua. Beberapa di antara mereka jadi scriptwriter Extravaganza malah. Sudah kebayang kan joke sehari-hari kita segaring apa?

Hah.
Gila.
Ini ya rasanya nostalgia? Padahal baru 4 tahun. Gimana perasaan orang-orang angkatan 70an di acara-acara temu alumni itu ya?

female species

2006-10-29T01:38:00.000+07:00

Female.

The opposite of sex that can make you, male, go crazy.

How they can be so clumsy but still attractive. How they can deceive your heart by their stare. How the scent of their perfume can drive you horny. How you love to see them beside you when you wake up early. How their kisses passionate your heart. How their mood changes suddenly (and the only reason to come up with is PMS). How they get the sexy looks with their body. How they can lie but you just try to trust it. How they can runaway so easily. How they want all of the affection in the world.

Eventhough you hate all about them, but still, there is a part of them that makes you crazy. Even it's just a tiny little bit of their eyes, or their legs, or their hair, or just the sweetness in the smile. Suddenly you forget with the hate and you start to love them even more than you ever know.

But never, I tell you this, to trust a woman who fall in love: they tend to tell lies. Goddam lies.

I just hate that.

Lebaran? beat me...

2006-10-26T18:28:00.000+07:00

Alasan kenapa saya membenci Lebaran:
1. Warung tutup semua.
2. Tempat beli pulsa juga tutup.
3. Angkot lewatnya setengah jam sekali.
4. Malam sehari sebelum Lebaran berisik bunyi petasan dan orang-orang takbiran.
5. Liburan yang terlalu lama. Dua minggu tahun ini. Tahun-tahun sebelumnya malah tiga minggu: dua minggu sebelum Lebaran dan satu minggu sesudah Lebaran. Dasar orang-orang ngelunjak dikasih libur minta cuti.
6. Banyak sms minta maaf lahir dan batin yang masuk ke hp saya, dan secara etika saya harus membalasnya dengan sms maafkan saya juga secara lahir dan batin.
7. Tiba-tiba semua acara televisi bernuansa tobat islami.
8. Limpahan masyarakat Jakarta pengunjung FO di Bandung yang bikin jalan Dago macet total.
9. Semua rutinitas yang sudah terjadwal hancur seketika.
10. et cetera dan et cetera.

Conversation About The Things

2006-09-29T15:31:00.000+07:00

In the end, life gets you nothing...

"Haha, I thought that you would be here."
"...oh, it's you."
"Yes, yes, yes, it's another contemplating nights upon the rooftop."
"...what are you doing here anyway?"
"Just say that I miss you a lot. What happen to you now, Kiddo?"
"Aw, shut up! I've told you so many times that I don't want you to call me Kiddo..."
"Oh, now you're forgetting that I, in particular, don't like a weird name like Gidds?"
"How could I know? It was years back then. I don't even remember why I named you like that. It just came up suddenly into my mind..."
"...like the words Kiddo suddenly slipped into my mind either..."
"Yeah, right..."
"Well, you can call me Mr. Reindeer, I like that."
"It's so OBVIOUS that you ARE one, Gidds."
"Reindeer. Mister Reindeer please."
"Oh, and that would make you happy?"
"Yep."
"Okay, Mr. Reindeer, nice to meet you."
"Good."
"And stop calling me Kiddo."
"Well, I don't remember making a promise like that before."
"Cut the crap, or just be gone."
"Aw, come on Kid..."
"Or maybe I just go to that Lacuna Inc..."
"Hey hey, okay, you win this time. Anything but not that Lacuna, okay?"
"Geez, it really scares the shit out of you, Lacuna eh?"
"No, it's not that. I just feel sympathy to that Jim Carrey person."
"Why? I think it was such a brilliant idea, making a place like that. Sometimes, I even dream like wanting to have a short term memory lost like Leonard."
"Really? I think it really annoys you. When you wake up in the morning, you see your girl as a beautiful stranger lying next to you in the bed but you have no idea who she is. Like the film that had Drew and Adam in it."
"Oh, yeah, that could be troublesome. But Lenny always brings his Polaroid and pen to memorize things up."
"So, you still wanna do it?"
"Do what?"
"The memory lost things?"
"Why wouldn't I? It seems like a new adventure, even a new life. You lose all your connections, all of your burden just in one night and start a new life."
"Hmm, it could make a great reality show, I think. People would watch it! The rating will increases every day eventually..."
"...just don't tell me you never watched tv?"
"Why would a reindeer like me watch a television?"
"Oh, youre the worst one. They ALREADY had a show like that."
"Really? So who is the lucky person?"
"Truman, of course. It's already the 11784th episodes."
"That many?"
"Well, each episode is for one day. He's already 30 now. Poor guy, he just such a good, nice, and warm guy. Sadly they turned his life like a bad joke, it really makes me wanna choke."
"Rhyming words, huh? Not bad, but not that good either for someone like you.
"Oh, shut up. When did I ask your opinion anyway. Just shut the hell up or I make your horrible horn as a hanger for my clothes."
"There you goes, Mr. Sarcastic."
"Thank you, Mr. Reindeer. How considerable you are."

* * *

"What? Really?"
"Yes, I know. But I DID go and have a dinner with her."
"How could you? After all the things happened between you and her?"
"I cant believe myself too, taking that kind of decision. Fool..."
"Of course you're a fool, haha!"
"Shut up..."
"Remember that she came back for you..."
"Oh yeah, I remember that."
"...yet, she left you..."
"Twice, to make it worse."
"Yeah! Twice! And you still need a reason?"
"Yeah, I know. But they had a broke up since a long time ago..."
"Do you want the third one?"
"Aw, come on, don't be so mean, Gidds."
"You just like her, don't you?"
"... I don't want her, not this time..."
"If you want to, I'll be your Mr. Hyde and you could be my Dr. Jekyll."
"Lucky for you, you ARE Mr. Edward Hyde..."
"Ah, his name was Edward. I thought it was Edwand."
"What kind of name is Edwand?"
"I don't know. I just thought it like that. And who is the doctor's name again?"
"Jekyll. Dr. Henry Jekyll."
"So you're the good innocent Henry Jekyll huh?"
"Yes. And you're the manifestation of my evil side, Mr. Edwand Hyde..."
"Haha, is that so?"
"Playing innocent now?"
"Haha, nevermind. Why would you still go with her anyway?"
"Hhhh, I don't quite sure either..."
"Don't be sad like that, cheer up a little, Kiddo.."
"...I was trying to forget him for such a long time, until then..."
"Then what?"
"We bumped into each other at the supermarket, after a very very long time since the last time we met, and I still found her very attractive..."
"Oh, I see. And suddenly the world turned dramatically in 180 degrees, right?"
"Yep."
"..."
"..."
"She's simply irresistible, isn't she?"
"Yeah. Curse my luck, damn it."

* * *

"So now what?"
"What what?"
"What to do, what to think, what to choose, what to sing..."
"I'll sing the Acid House Kings..."
"Hey, another rhyming words again."
"You're like someone I know..."
"Really? On what qualities?"
"On taking seriously some silly sentence. He's worse that you; he changes the words into jokes."
"What joke?"
"Irony, satire, you name it. I think he could make any words into a sudden joke anyway."
"Natural born joker, huh?"
"Yep. Another two-legged freak headed to town..."
"And he turns out to be the biggest clown. Hey, that's rhyming."
"So what? It's only a rhyming words."
"Oh, thank you Mr. Cynical. You have torn my creativity apart from me."
"I wonder if a reindeer like you have one..."
"You'll be surprise if I say that my race, reindeer are far far more intelligent compared to you, humans."
"Really? I thought it was the mouse and the dolphin."
"The dolphin are true, but we have the conspiracy to make mouse the most intelligent creature on earth."
"Why mouse?"
"So what? Does Platypus really suit you?"
"God, no."
"Oh, so now you're saying God. When was the last time you're going to church?"
"Okay, now you got me. I wonder what was God thinking anyway when He made the platypus..."
"Come on, they're funny looking guy."
"But still, it's platypus, silly mammal with a duckmouth. I wonder if my Mr. Hyde is an ugly platypus..."
"Hey, you're ruining my entire image."
"Haha, I can't even think of it..."
"Good, because I don't want to be like one."

* * *

"Hey, why don't you go to bed? It's already late."
"No reason in particular, I just don't feel like sleeping now."
"Insomnia?"
"What kind of friend are you? Since when did I get insomnia?"
"I don't know. Probably when you were 5 and we haven't met, you got insomnia fluently?"
"Yeah. And I live in the aurora. But I don't recall of having any or living there either."
"Okay. What are you looking up there?"
"Will you just stop asking question and leave me in a complete silence for just ten minutes?"
"What are you doing anyway?"
"...I'm trying to count the stars up there."
"Oh, another childish games, huh?"
"Shut up. It's my child habit. And now I forget the last count, what was it... two thousand and fifteen?"
"Just give up already. There are four hundred thirty five thousands and six hundred seven stars up there."
"...how did you know?"
"I have already counted it before."
"..."
"Hey, what's wrong with the looks? Don't be mad, okay. I'm just teasing you. It's actually two hundred forty five..."
"..."
"Hey, where are you going?"
"Backdown to my room. You're ruining the night. Thank you Mr. EDWAND Hyde..."
"Aw, cmon, don't be such a fussy kid..."
"Shut up. Goodnight and just go..."
"Imogen Heap, huh? That's one of my favorite."
"..."
"Okay, okay, enough with the killing looks, okay?"

*blam* (noise of the closing door)

* * *

And another night passes by...

The Demon Who Wished To Be Human

2006-09-20T13:53:00.000+07:00

A long time ago, lived a demon from hell. He was bored with the things that were happening in hell, so he came to God and asked Him whether he could go to the earth. He was always wondering what kind of things happened there. God granted him permission to go there as long as he wants with one condition: that he will never become a human.

The demon agreed. He was so happy; he didn't even torture any human soul for the rest of the day. He couldn't care less about any other thing beside his trip to earth.

Then the next day he went there, to earth. There were so many beautiful views: the wooden homes, green-green grass under the blue-blue sky, with the yellow sun shining down the flying pink butterflies. In just a split second he fell in love with the earth. He neither ever saw the grasses nor the sun before; hell is just rock and fire and tormented soul.

Days and days passed by, but the demon still standing there, stunned and amazed by the new experience he had. On the next day, a couple of young people came there and laid themselves down on the grasses under the shade of a big tree looking at the sky for a long time. The demon watched them; they look so happy just like when he tortured a human soul in hell back there. He thought, that could have been very pleasing, so he did exactly like they did; watching the blue sky while laying under a tree. But the demon felt nothing. He looked once again to the couple and found them enjoying themselves. He checked if anything's different on his place; the grasses were the same, the tree was indifferent either. Yet he felt nothing.

In confusion, he woke up, came to the couple and asked;
why could I not feel happy like both of you?

The couple stared each other for a while, but then smiled nicely and answered him:
the sky is already blue,
the grass is already green
all can be pale
but the beautifulness that you seek
is only in your heart within...

The demon realized that he don't have a heart to feel; only human has heart. Then, the demon wanted to become a human. But to become one he needed to find a heart. So, to get one he was ready to eat humans. Start with the couple who just answered him nicely. And then he was looking for another human to eat them.

There was only one thing on the demon's mind: to have a human heart. He became obsessed with the earth and more obsessed to become human. The most important thing was he already forgot about the condition he made with God: that he will never wanted to become human. That demon wasn't aware of his horrible doing, because a demon, by definition... has no heart.

He began to wander around the village and ate every person he met. Young and adults, he ate them all. Soon, the village was on this terrorizing fear. Every villagers were afraid of him so they left their home and hide somewhere safe. The demon searched for another human left in the village but he couldn't find any.

Until one day, a man appeared in front of the demon and said to him,
eating the heart of a man will not give you anything.

So the demon asked the man,
If that so, what should I do to become human?

Sadly, at that time, the people of the village who ran away came out from their hides. Soon, they captured the demon who has weakened his guards.

Then, the man asked the people,
He is a demon, he knows nothing of human nature and life. I'm asking you humbly to spare his life...

But they refused,
No! He is a human being! He will be judged following our rules!

The demon was beheaded and died.

The man pitied the demon. He buried his head and planted a tree as a tomb. He believed that the demon would finally obtain a heart in his next life. The tree grew bigger and bigger as the years passed by. Now it resisted the rain and now looks down on human with kindness.

Did the demon ended up with a heart?

Don't ask me. It's up to you to decide.

* * *

2006-08-29T18:32:00.000+07:00

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PS: Majalahnya lumayan bagus kok, membuat saya mengerti tentang musik indie di Indonesia yang sangat susah nyari infonya...
So, people, don't just stand there, buy it!

2006-08-16T18:20:00.000+07:00

"We do not know what happened to the people, they are always changing. Even special persons that we thought to be the same they just changed. Just only memories stay the same. Those memories we left behind. And it would be precious if those memories was the real and true, not just a fake not know what happened to the people, they are always changing. Even special persons that we thought to be the same they just changed. Just only memories stay the same. Those memories we left behind. And it would be precious if those memories was the real and true, not just a fake."

It's the last message from someone I knew, but this person had just had this terrible accident and died accidentally.
Such a nice words, I think, and I want it to tell it to you, yes, you who just read the paragraphs.
For me, I still can't write such good words; no words come out from my mind...

2006-08-04T14:00:00.000+07:00

Tiga.
Hal yang cukup membuat saya heran adalah seringnya saya dijadikan pembicara dengan tema: IKLIM PERFILMAN INDEPENDEN DI BANDUNG. Mungkin gara-gara jadi filmmaker dan ikutan unit kegiatan di kampus yang bernama Liga Film Mahasiswa. Dan beberapa hari yang lalu, beberapa hari setelah suara saya kembali lagi (yang terjadi beberapa hari setelah suara saya hilang), saya menjadi pembicara lagi dengan topik yang itu-itu lagi.

Aduh, entah kenapa malas rasanya menilai-nilai orang lain, dalam hal ini para filmmaker di Bandung dan sekitarnya. Toh, pada akhirnya penilaian dan pendapat saya tidak berarti apa-apa. Paling juga untuk sekadar memberi informasi dari orang yang tidak tahu apa-apa menjadi tahu apa. Tapi belum hingga ke taraf membuat orang lain terdorong untuk terjun dan berkarya di dalam dunia perfilman.

Tapi memang sungguh tidak mengenakkan hati menjadi pembicara, setiap kata yang saya keluarkan harus mempunyai alasan yang kuat dan logis. Padahal ingin rasanya kalau ditanya,

"Menurut Anda, bagaimana iklim perfilman indie di Bandung?"

saya hanya ingin menjawab,

"Bagus, bagus..."
"..."

tapi mungkin pendengar tidak akan pernah puas. Mereka selalu ingin minta dijelaskan, kenapa begini, kenapa begitu. Jadilah saya menjelaskan panjang lebar walaupun malas mengulang hal yang sama pada acara yang berbeda.

Hhhh, saya tidak ingin terlalu memikirkan hal-hal yang seperti itu. Rasanya kok makin dipikirin, makin pusing jadinya. Asal bikin film saja, menurut saya itu yang paling penting. Tinggal bagaimana kita promosi film yang sudah dibikin ke masyarakat. Daripada talkshow-talkshow seperti itu, bisanya ngomong doang dan nggak perlu pakai follow-up bikin film. Sudah berasa kaya kritikus, bisanya cuma mengkritik hasil doang tanpa perlu tahu proses. Orang-orang kaya gini nih yang perlu disuntik mati.

Hmmm,
saya jadi ingat sinema-indonesia.com ...

2006-08-02T14:56:00.000+07:00

Dua.
Gara-gara salah beli rokok, Marlboro Light padahal harusnya Marlboro Light Menthol, dan saya masih juga masih menghabiskan rokok itu satu bungkus sampai habis padahal tenggorokan sudah tidak enak rasanya, tenggorokan saya sakit beberapa hari kemudian sampai-sampai saya jadi tidak bisa berbicara sepatah kata pun, kecuali..
"...TAI!"

Di kampus, saya jadi sasaran penertawaan teman-teman saya...

"Kenapa lo, diam aja?"
"..." (sambil melancarkan tatapan yang berarti, Oh please, suara gua ilang gitu..)
"Ayo dong, ngomong dong. Diem mulu daritadi."
"..." (yea, yea, terserah lo deh..)
"Jangan-jangan lo lagi patah hati ya? Hahahaha..."
"...TAI..."

Tuh kan, giliran ngumpatin orang, suara saya keluar. Tapi ketika saya mencoba untuk ngomong lagi,

"...."

Kejadian paling lucu adalah ketika ada telepon dari Papa, terus saya angkat. Lalu beberapa detik kemudian saya baru menyadari bahwa saya tidak bisa ngomong apa-apa.
Hhhh. Sungguh merepotkan memang jadi orang bisu. Dan untunglah saya bisa merasakan jadi orang bisu untuk beberapa hari.

Sial. Di saat-saat seperti inilah saya merasakan akibat buruk dari merokok. Salah beli rokok sih tepatnya. Atau saya harus berhenti merokok sekalian ya?

2006-07-25T14:47:00.000+07:00

Okay,
sebagai seorang blogger saya harus terus konsisten menulis.
Daripada Badu protes lagi ke saya
("Gimana nih blognya? Nggak diupdate lagi?"
"..Iye, iye..")
, terpaksa saya menulis.
Tapi sekarang saya tidak tahu mau menulis apa,
jadi saya akan menceritakan kejadian sehari-hari saja untuk kali ini, buat persiapan mental artis yang setiap hari harus rela diekspose acara infotainment sampai mampus.
Siapa yang tahu besok saya jadi aktor sinetron?
*yeayea..*

* * *
Satu.
Saya benci sekali anak kecil.
Apanya?
Semuanya.
Mulai dari kesoklucuan mereka, suara berisik mereka, dan kebanyaktingkahannya juga.
Dan tadi pagi ada saudara saya yang masih kecil, 6 tahun kali ya, masuk ke kamar di saat saya sedang melakukan ritual banguntidur - bacakomik seperti biasa.
Saya yang masih santai di kasur,
...anak kecil..
otomatis kaget,
HuH???
walaupun masih dalam pose tiduran menyamping sambil baca komik. Tapi mata saya tidak berhenti menatap dia dengan penuh kebencian.

Pertama karena dia telah masuk kamar saya dan saya tidak suka ada orang masuk kamar saya seenaknya,
yang kedua karena dia telah menyentuh komik2 saya di samping kasur dan saya tidak suka barang-barang saya dipegang-pegang orang lain seenaknya,
dan yang ketiga karena dia seorang anak kecil.
Alasan yang ketiga sebenarnya sudah cukup bagi saya, tapi banyak orang merasa aneh karena saya tidak menyukai anak kecil.

"Lo dulu anak kecil juga gitu..."
"Itu kan sudah kodrat darisanany, gua harus jadi anak kecil."
"Ntar kalo lo punya anak gimana?"
"...siapa bilang gua mau punya anak? Gua kan bisa memilih untuk punya anak kecil atau nggak..."
"Tapi anak kecil itu lucu banget tau."
"Nggak. Mereka pura-pura lucu aja. Jangan sampai tertipu..."
Dan setiap pembicaraan saya dengan siapapun tentang anak kecil selalu berakhir seperti itu.

Dengan muka (sok) polosnya, dia melihat ke tumpukan komik yang ada di samping kasur lalu membaca-baca komik yang ada di situ, tanpa merasa sadar akan adanya tatapan membunuh dari kasur yang siap menikam..
sampai Mama tiba-tiba muncul di pintu kamar. Terus ngeliatin.
Dan saya memberi kode dalam kesunyian dengan tatapan tadi, kurang lebih artinya seperti ini:
...ini anak kecil darimana ngapain ada di sini dan tolong cepat dibawa pergi sebelum lima menit lagi dia mati...
Mama, yang tentu saja mengerti arti kode tatapan mata tadi langsung mengajak anak kecil itu ke bawah bermain-main dengan anjing saya.

Sial. Ternyata Tante dari Jakarta bermain ke Bandung rupanya.
Pakai acara nginap pula.
Berarti masih ada anak kecil di rumah sampai weekend ini.
Sial.

The Gravity That Pulls You Back Home

2006-07-15T15:15:00.000+07:00

Days and weeks before, I went to Jakarta. Why, if you asked me? I wanted to meet someone, someone whom I love. It's quite irritating, this long distance relationship. But she said,

Long distance relationship could make our hair turns gray.
Let it stay,
Let's pretend it's safari miles away...

Everytime I remember her words, it always makes me smile. I must admit, she is a smart girl who has lovely delicate words. She's good at rhyming the words too. She often sends me poems through the messages. I love it. I always like her poems although she always says that my poems are better than hers (I replied the poem with another poem too). We had a quarrel once because we think the other one have better poems. We ended with a conclusion that it doesn't matter who's the best; maybe each of us just had a different taste on poems. But I don't really want to tell you about the poems now, I will tell you about that later.

So when the holiday started few weeks ago, I went to Jakarta to meet her. She is smart and funny and often makes me laugh. I enjoy every time together with her. I decided to stay there for a while so I can meet there for quite time; my grandma's house near her house and that makes me quite easy to go to her house.

Yep, how happy and how pleased I am - spending the night with her watching the stars from her balcony, kissing under the tree, or just telling stories. There's nothing else in this whole wide world that I want, only her. So I thought I was going to stay there for a longer time, it is a holiday anyway.

It was days and weeks ago, until I felt a weird feeling I didn't understand. Maybe it's because I never like Jakarta anyway: the traffic crazes me, plus the hot weather, dusty and smoky air, with the grey polluted sky as the finishing touch. I usually come here once a year, and that's on the night before Christmas - Mom wants to spend the Christmas Eve with my big family. If it's not because of her, maybe I won't go here anyway.

Or maybe it's just a silly boredom because of the holiday? I don't think so.

That is the reason why few hours ago I was in the cars I ride at this freeway, on a trip back to Bandung. I was sitting besides the window and trying to take a look outside. It was a habit of mine: doing the autism game. When I was a child, I used to count the number of the parabolic TV receiver* at the top people's house. But now, it was all vanished. People use the cable to bring the TV show. So then I changed my autism game: looking at the side of the road and looking for strange objects. The strangest one I ever saw is a nearly dead monster tail (and it still moves a little) and a very very small flying saucer**. I thought it was a styrofoam plate, but then I decided that it was only my imagination (that the thing was a styrofoam plate) and considered it as a flying saucer. Of course I didn't tell it to anyone back then, because if I told them, they would tell anybody and made them think that they're the one who found it. I hate people acquainting other's idea like that.

So now, let's back on our side of the freeway that I watched for a long time.
I do it with a purposed intend to make me forget about the strange feeling I had, in addition with this sadness and loneliness I felt since I left Jakarta, which also means that I left her. I didn't want to go far away from her actually. The car moved fast, leaving a blurry image of the side of the road. It made me a little bit dizzy. Luckily, the freeway had this very beautiful scenery. So I'll just sit here nicely and look around; green-green trees everywhere on every hill the car passed. And that made me felt like wanted to send her this poem,

Oh, how I would like to stop just a little while to just sit under that porcupine tree.
You will love the scenery,
it was green and lovely!
With the sun setting at the west,
filling the sky with magenta acquiesce,
while we're waiting the moon putting up it's crest...

Because of her, I tried to make such rhyming words too. But I don't quite get it, so maybe I'll just make the usual poems of mine. But oh, how it broke my heart to know that I was leaving her. But I just felt like my heart telling me to go back to Bandung, and you should hear your heart. The heart gives you many signs to guide you in this life journey, all you have to do just listen to it. But people nowadays tend to ignore their heart easily. It really hurts your heart if you disregard them like that.

And now here I am, standing at the center in my little and messy room, trying to observe every inches of it. If you see it maybe you'll feel like I'm a sort of an idiot, looking around every corner of the room I lived for years. But I know it, I now the strange feeling had gone. I'm smiling and almost laughing for myself. I turn on the computer, load my mp3's playlist, then laying on the bed with my eyes closed and use the big earphone on my head, listen to the Eirik and Erlend*** soft voices singing the Manhattan Skyline.

I realize. These, all of these are the gravity****. No matter how far you go, or how hard you try, there is gravity that always makes you turn back and makes you run toward home, the gravity that pulls you back home.

I feel very sorry to leave her there, but I feel glad knowing that I'm home.

* Antena parabola, maksudnya
** Seriously, do you think I'm joking?
*** King of Convenience, amazing duo who plays acoustic guitar serenely and puts me in a very peaceful situation
**** Gravity is the song written by Chris Martin, vocals on Coldplay, and then performed by Embrace. I don't know why the song is written for them, just consider that Chris is a generous person.

Repost Edition: Tentang Bulan *

2006-06-18T00:10:00.001+07:00

Bulan purnama pertama tahun ini

seperti saat itu

aku jadi ingat waktu dulu

waktu itu kita masih bocah, lugu dan sempurna

tidak ada tangis dalam cerita kehidupan kita

kertas putih buku kehidupan mulai terisi sedikit cerita-cerita bahagia, tawa, dan suka

tidak ada cerita sedih dan menyeramkan,

tidak ada mimpi-mimpi buruk,

yang ada hanyalah kisah cinta Putri dan Ksatria

Saat bulan purnama tahun itu

di padang kita tiduran

beralaskan alang-alang, berhiaskan langit malam

ditemani Bulan, teman kita berbagi cerita

Langit kelam berawan abu-abu

misterius, namun tetap menunjukkan pesonanya dalam berbagai cara

menenangkanku

Alang-alang mau berbaik hati untuk ditiduri biar kita tidak kedinginan

bahkan Angin pun mengusir hawa dingin dari setiap hembusannya agar kita tetap hangat terjaga

menenangkanmu

Malam itu

saat bulan purnama tahun itu

kita saling mengatakan impian

Putri ingin seorang Ksatria yang selalu menjaganya

melindunginya dari sang penyihir ataupun naga jahat

Aku kan menjadi ksatria itu, Putri, aku berjanji

janjiku setia tak lekang waktu

Tapi jalan itu tidak mudah, Ksatria, sanggupkah kau?

Kaulah yang telah memanggilku ke sini, Putri

pantaskah bila aku berkata tidak?

Maka lindungilah aku, Ksatria

Demi hidupku, Putri

Segenap perasaan tertumpahkan kepada Angin

Angin lalu mengirimnya ke seluruh penjuru dunia

bahwa ksatria siap melindungi Putri

di bawah sang Bulan dia telah berjanji

berhati-hatilah kalian yang ingin mengganggunya

takkan bisa dicabut sehelai rambutnya!

Angin turut menyampaikannya kepada Bulan

makin teranglah bulan bersinar, tersenyum bahagia

beban yang berat telah lepas darinya

untuk terus menjaga Putri setiap malam

dari gelap yang selalu melenyapkan

Makin teranglah ia,

menjelma menjadi bulan purnama pertama

Tapi ada kala Ksatria harus pergi berpetualang,

karena kejahatan kan selalu ada dan harus ada yang memberantasnya

agar Putri bisa terbebas dari sang penyihir dan naga jahat

maka murunglah bulan mendengar hal ini

Pada hari pertama Ksatria pergi, bulan sangat was-was

jangan-jangan ada sang penyihir yang bersembunyi di balik bayangan pohon

siap mengancam dengan ayunan tongkat sihir

jangan-jangan ada naga jahat keluar dari balik gunung

membawa Putri kabur dan menyekapnya di menara sebuah istana

bulan pun makin murung, makin reduplah senyumnya

maka ia berubah sabit

Esok malamnya Angin membawa kabar bahwa Ksatria akan kembali paginya

ragu-ragu Bulan percaya tapi ia tak sabar menantinya,

Ksatria benar-benar kembali esoknya

malam itu ia bersama Putri duduk di padang lagi malam itu

makin teranglah senyum bulan

karena ia bisa beristirahat sebentar dan berbincang dengan Angin

maka ia berubah purnama

Tapi hanya selama tiga hari saja ia purnama

Karena pada hari yang ketiga Ksatria harus pergi berpetualang lagi

Ketika Putri sudah tidur, ia menyelinap pergi

Bulan baru menyadari ketika sinarnya membasahi baju zirah perak Ksatria

Bulan gelisah,

ia bertanya penuh mohon kepada Ksatria

Kenapa Ksatria harus pergi?

Bukankah Ksatria senang berada dekat dengan Putri?

Biarlah Ksatria tinggal disini biar aku tak terbebani!

Sehingga aku dapat menghabiskan malam berbincang dengan Angin!

Ksatria mendongak ke Bulan

Aku pergi karena aku harus pergi

kejahatan masih terlalu banyak di dunia ini

kegelapan masih mengancam Putri

bahkan belum kutemukan sang penyihir dan naga jahat

bagaimana mungkin aku dapat diam saja di sini, wahai Bulan?

Mendengar jawaban Ksatria, Bulan tak dapat berkata lagi

Tenanglah Bulan,

aku pergi tak selamanya akan hilang

aku akan kembali pada hari keduapuluh sembilan

Jawaban Ksatria tidak sedikitpun menambah senyum Bulan

Beban ini sangat berat bagiku sendiri, Ksatria

Lihatlah ke sekelilingmu, Bulan

Bulan menoleh ke kanan dan kirinya

ia melihat banyak kerlipan cahaya, satu, dua, tiga, tak terhitung banyaknya

Itu adalah Bintang, wahai Bulan, ujar Ksatria

aku meletakkannya di atas sana agar kau tak kesepian

jika kau lelah mereka akan membantumu, tentu saja!

Bintang-Bintang turut memancarkan cahayanya untuk membantumu

menyingkirkan kegelapan dari sang Putri

Bulan membiru terharu,

O Ksatria, betapa kau mengerti akan kesusahanku!

maka biarlah aku mendapat kepercayaan dari Ksatria untuk menjaga Putri!

tak akan sedikitpun aku lelah menjaga Putri dengan Bintang-Bintang yang Ksatria beri!

Ksatria berdiri diam,

Maka biarlah Kau menerangi Putri agar kegelapan tak berani menyentuhnya, o Bulan

lalu ia menyampaikan salam perpisahan ke rumput dan embun, pohon dan binatang, padang dan bebatuan,

Angin dan Bulan, sampaikanlah salamku untuk Putri

Maka pergilah Ksatria menapaki jalannya,

jalan hidup seorang Ksatria

Setiap malam berikutnya Putri selalu ke padang,

maka Angin dan Bulan menyampaikan kenangan Putri dan Ksatria

Bulan tidak lagi berkeluh kesah

temannya banyak, tak lagi ia sepi

Tapi tetap saja gelap mengancam

setelah kepergian Ksatria Bulan tetap bertambah murung,

terangnya terus berkurang

Putri menyadari kesusahan Bulan

Putri bertanya kepada Bulan, Ada apa gerangan?

Kemurunganmu membuat aku bimbang, Bulan

tapi Bulan tak ingin Putri tahu

maka ia menyuruh Bintang-Bintang menghibur Putri

agar tak perlu ia merisaukan Bulan

sejenak Putri terlupa akan kerisauan Bulan

Bintang-Bintang itu menarik hatinya untuk dipandang

Namun semakin dekat hari keduapuluh sembilan makin teranglah bulan

tak sabar ia menantikan kedatangan Ksatria

Putri tersadar bahwa Bulan semakin bersinar

tapi tak pernah ia tanya mengapa

karena Putri tahu bahwa Bulan akan menyuruh Bintang untuk menghiburnya lagi

ia ikut senang karena Bulan tak lagi berkeluh kesah

Ksatria kembali pada hari keduapuluh sembilan

banyak kejahatan telah ia berantas

tapi belum cukup banyak untuk membuatnya terus disamping Putri

hanya tiga hari Ksatria melepas rindu dengan Putri

Ksatria harus pergi lagi

sang penyihir dan naga jahat belum mati

Maka petualangan Ksatria terus berlanjut

dan Bulan pun murung kembali

tapi dia akan bersinar terang lagi

hingga Ksatria kembali nanti

bandung, 14 juli 2003

*postingan setahun yang lalu, dan masih saya suka sampai sekarang

The Darkness Red

2006-06-18T00:10:00.000+07:00

red is a glass of wine. dark is the unfolded hand. red is the lips that are trembling. dark is the loneliest escaping.

red is the light. dark is the night.

red is my heart. dark in my mind. red the one who seeks. dark who shall be find. wondering of becoming red. bluntly changing into becoming dark.

and our eyes will see never red. only dark.

red is you. darken me. the side of the story is red. the rest is allowed dark.

but nevermind the rest.

in the darkness we'll seek for red. and later our red heart will live like the aurora putting up on a show in the dark sky upon Antartica. while those people in Tibet praying, we climb the Niagara falls just for seeing us falling. and our eyes will see red, slowly fading into dark. until His hand saves us, saves us from this sufferring land.

why o why, can you just give your heart to me so easily. the darkness red is going to passing me nearby.

...got any better things to do?

2006-05-26T03:22:00.001+07:00

Dari bulletinnn friendster itu. Nggak penting sih. Cuma biar blognya keliatan sok diupdate aja,

01.Your name
End. My old friends called me Ona. I like it, a bit funny it is.

02. Hobbies
daydreaming

03. Gender
male

04. School / work
both

05. Height
around 180cm

06. Horoscope
scorpi

08. Address
bandung

09. Email
i have two and i think youre already know one

10. Hair colour
black. pure black. i dont like colored-hair.

11. Eye colour
dark brown. or black? one of them, i guess..

12. Skin colour
brown? gitu ya?

13. Right or left handed
right

14. Status
single?

15. in love?
not in the mood for love.

16. Last 5 digit of your mobile no
yeah, nice try buddy...

17.When's your Birthday
on the rainy day on november

have u

21. Tried smoking
helluva lot, of course. im a smoker.

22. Drink alcohol
yes

23. Been hurt emotionally
yes

24. Kept a secret from anyone
everyone has their own secrets. and i'll have mine too.

25. Been on stage
yes. quite enjoying it actually.

favourites

26. Colors
the combination of black-white, maroon-black, grey-purple, and also yellow+green.
but black suits me most.

27. Food
kerupuk seribuan murahan! cant live a day without it.

29. Number
prime

30. Cartoons
calvin. and hobbes.

32. Song
hmm, tough one. any Mew's song will be okay.

33. Movie
trainspotting? Elephant? Memento or Donnie Darko?
i'll go with Finding Nemo..

34. Subject
my imaginary friend

rite now

36. Wearing
maroon sweater, blue jeans

37. Hairstyle
semi-messy-bob

39. Thinking of
why am I doing this on a 4:24 in the morning

computer screen

40. Listening to
Annemarie - The Living Model. No no, now it's The Postal Service - Sleeping In

do u believe in

(huh? that's it for the computer screen part?)

41. Love
what do you mean by belive in love?

42. Faith
what do you mean by belive in faith?

43. Yourself
believe in myself? i dont get it really.

44. Ghosts
no. there's a simply logical explanation to all kind of mistery

45. Angels
yes, but not exist in the earth.

in the Last 24 hours

46. Worn jeans
uh huh

47. Cleaned your room
of course not.

48. cried
no

49. met someone new
if passing by someone i dont know on the street is considered met someone new, i'll take that as a yes.

50. Last person I talk to on the phone
Papa

love live

51. Do you believe in love
udah dibilang ga ngerti masih juga ditanyain lagi..

52. Have a secret admirer
wait a minute now.. how am I supposed to know that?

53. Do you wanna get married
no. really. a big NO.

55. How old you wanna be when you get
married?
...I've told you before I don't want to get any.

56. How old you wanna be when you have
your kid?
the reason in particular why I don't want to get married is because i HATE children.

57. How many kids do you want?
no thanks. im quite happy by not having any.

58. Would you have kids before marriage
..are you out of your mind?

59. Do you have a Crush
yes

60. What do you want most in a relationship
hmm...

61. Pink or Black
pink on black is a great combination

62. Kiss or hug
both

63. Summer or winter
winter! oh how I love winter...

64. Sunny or rainy
rainy

65. Chocolate or vanilla
chocola

66. Hanging out or chillin
Chili is my old dog, which already passed away. Oh how I miss him very much..

67. Music or TV
music and coffee

68. Hamburger or Pizza
pizza

69. Smile or Laughing
laugh

70. Sleeping or eating
sleep

71. Mc Donald's or KFC
both are junks

72. Silver or gold
shiny-white-silver

73. Sunset or sunrise
sunset with it's magenta skies

74. On phone or in person
in person

75. Diamonds or Pearls
diamonds

76. Adidas or puma
i'm a puma wearer, but i prefer adidas most.

77. Band members or models
band members

78. Local or international Actres
not any of them.

79. sneakers or boots
sneakers

80. Jack daniels or Chivas Regal
Chivas

81. Dunhill or Malboro
Marlboro. Light Menthol please.

82. clubbing or live music
i dont really like clubbing

83. Johnny depp or Brad Pitt
Brad Pitt of course

84. angelina Jolie or Kate Hudson
noone

85. colosal/epic or romantic comedy
epic adventure

87. BMW or ferarri
BMW

88. incubus or maroon 5
Mew! I like the band very much..

90. long haired or bald
long

91. pop or rock
britpop! with some alternatives tunes

92. beach or mountain
beach

95. nokia or ericsson
nokia

96. 311 or hoobastank
Kings of Convenience and The Postal Service is nice too.

97. Asia or America
Eastern Europe

98. tattoo or piercing
Tattoo

100.asking/answering
?

Dan gua baru sadar kalo pertanyaannya ada seratus.
Bakal ada yang tahan baca nggak ya?

The Love Of Emily Brown (pt.1)

2006-05-02T21:18:00.000+07:00

It has been hours since I sit here on this bench in the park where Emily Brown and I supposed to meet. No no no, we're not supposed to go to cinema to watch movie. There isn't any good movies showing on theatre since Tim Burton's Nightmare Before Christmas was playing last month. But today, Emily Brown and I planned to go on a picnic on the top of the hill, just a few hundred meters at the northwest of the town. It's a very nice hill, I'm telling you. The grasses are short and comfy, and I mean really comfy. You can lay yourself there without even have to worry about the itchy-spiky-grassy-thing. When you lay yourself on it, all you need to think about is how beautiful life is if the sky always blue like that

We, Emily Brown and I, planned to eat our sandwiches there. Or we would watch the sea with ships sailing from and to our town's harbour with seagulls flying around them. It's a very nice little town we had. You should come here and you'll find a million reasons to stay here for a long time. The people are friendly to outsiders. The scenery is beautiful. You could ask me to accompany you for a trip around the town (it's free of charge). I'll take you walking to the windmill (it has this very great river-side view), or watching the sea from the cliff (yep, great scenery indeed), or just collecting stuff we used to collect at the beach: sands, shells, stones, and others. If you're lazy, you can go to Sally the Seashells Seller down by the sea shore. She sells only shells with best quality. It's rather expensive though, but quite worth it. My dad buys a shell that can produce the sound of the sea. It almost cost him a million. If you put the shell close to your ear, you can hear the sound of the waves, the seagulls, or even the mermaid's singing. She's so famous all around the world. If you've heard the song "Sally sells seashells down by the sea shore", then it's the song about our famous Sally. She's still young, only twenty. But young Sally is kind and pretty, so many people remember her. And because of her kindness and prettiness, they wrote a song about Sally the Seashells Seller.

But what I like most is watching the sky under the old willow tree on the top of the hill. My Dad told me that the old willow tree has been here for ages since his great-great-(I don't know how many great there are exactly) grandfather. The kids on that time used to play here too like me. My grandpa (that is my daddy's dad) built a hideout here once, on the old willow tree, with his friends. The tree-house wasn't big, they call it castle. It was made from woods they could find in the junkyard. They made the castle on their own, without getting any help from the old people.

Wow, if I listened to grandpa's story, it really amused me a lot. It makes me want to build my own tree-house. But kids these days doesn't have a lot of time to play somewhere, parents just wanted their children to stay in the house and doing school's homeworks. I seldom got myself out and pretend that I didn't have any homework. I hate homeworks, especially about mathematics. The only lesson I like is history. But the history teacher rarely gives an assignment to do, so I don't really like him.

When I sneak out, I have to be careful so Mrs. Bloomberg couldn't see me. She always tells me to do my homework even when tomorrow is a holiday. And I think she knows that I used to go to the hill. Sometimes she tells me about the haunted hill that has so many ghosts craving from inside the ground and other scary things about the hill. Of course it just a silly story to frightened little kids. Every time I went there, there's nothing scary like she told me before. She just wants to watch me dying by staying at home rather than playing outside. That's why I don't like her, she only tells you lie. I never like people who told lies to other, eventhough it's for the children's own sake.
But hey, a raindrop falls on my head. It realizes me that it's almost 5 and Mommy will get mad at me if I'm not home at 5. So I packed my lunch pack again - I ate few cheese sandwiches when I was waiting Emily - and get up from the bench. I look at the bench again to make sure that I don't left something. Then I turn around and walk out from the park to my home.

But in my mind I began to ask, where is Emily Brown and why did she not come to the park?

angin membawakan kata-kata yang kubisikkan dari atas bukit kepadamu..

2006-04-30T17:16:00.001+07:00

Dirimu adalah utara,
dan saya adalah selatan yang jatuh cinta kepada utara...

guilty pleasure and the sex on tv

2006-04-22T16:13:00.001+07:00

Badan gua capek, suara gua abis. Semua gara-gara malam karaokean di LFM, unit film gua. Berhubung hari ini hari Kartini dan ulang tahun LFM ke-45, jadinya kita makan-makan terus karaokean.

Yo'i.

CD karaokenya ternyata mantap sekali. Isinya lagu-lagu boyband dan lagu-lagu top 40 jaman 90-an. Haha, senang rasanya nyanyi lagu N'Sync dan Westlife sambil joget-joget ga tau malu.

Guilty pleasure?

Banget.

Alah, ngapain mikirin guilty pleasure, yang penting hati senang. Bahkan Rani yang sok emo itu ikut nyanyi2 lagu Backstreet Boys kok. Iya ga Ran? Hehe.
Penutupannya aja lagu Kenangan Terindah yang dipopulerkan oleh Samsons. Kurang najis apalagi kita?

But like I said before, fuck with guilty pleasure! Kalo emang lagu mereka enak dan bisa disukai banyak orang (terbukti dengan jadi hits), kenapa kita harus malu untuk ikutan suka? Ga mau dibilang ikutan mainstream? Pengennya sok unik sendiri? Dasar orang-orang munafik.

Jam 12 akhirnya pulang ke rumah. Masuk kamar, ganti baju, terus nyalain komputer, dan pindahin data dari USB ke komputer. Tadi gua menemukan banyak video clip bagus di LFM. Ada You're Beautiful - James Blunt, I'd Rather Dance With You-nya Kings Of Convenience (Erlend Oye memang oye!), beberapa Radiohead, beberapa Blur, dan juga The Blower's Daughter-nya Damien Rice. Khusus yang terakhir, video clipnya bagus sekali. Walaupun lagunya udah dari jaman kapan beredar, gua baru liat video klipnya sekrang. Sayang sekali dirusak dengan beberapa adegan film Closer yang dimasukin ke dalam klip. But that is a really damn good video.

Berhubung agak suntuk, jadi gua nyalain tv. Nggak ada acara bagus memang jam segini. Yang ada malah acara komedi nyerempet-nyerempet ke seks.

Tai.

Masa stasiun-stasiun tv swasta itu nggak punya harga diri sama sekali sih. Seks dijual. Udah ga ada bahan lagi apa? Mending talent-nya cantik, bodi oke. Ini udah jelek, sok pake swimsuit, perut buncit lagi. Oh god... sumpah nggak banget. Mual gua ngeliatnya.
Ganti channel, eh, acara serupa juga ada. Ini lebih parah. Talent-nya pake rok mini hampir sepantat, baju potongan rendah ngasih liat cleavage (a.k.a belahan dada), tapi bodi dan muka kaya babi (I really mean it, Lady, you're a goddam pig!). Mana akting ancur. Ngomong kaya anak SD yang lagi beramai-ramai baca tulisan di buku bahasa Indonesia. Parah.
Gimana Indonesia bisa maju kalo gini?

Terpaksa tv gua matiin terus nonton klip-klip yang baru didapat tadi. Mending liat si Erlend joget-joget daripada nonton tv kalo kaya gini deh...