'what's in a name?'

3:10 PM Unknown 0 Comments

‘now tell me,
what meaning is possessed in your name?’

‘mine?’

‘yours.’ I said as I toyed with a strand of my hair. Flirtatiously. Yet keeping it innocent and unaggressive. I didn’t want to offer him a second of green light.

I have had always indoctrinated myself to be a young lady with a proud soul. I would not let life happens to me, I trained myself to situate everything under my control—I am too, too proud to permit unwanted paths crossing my ways.

As well as I found where myself happened to be at this p.m., accompanied by a young man in a crimson hooded-sweater sitting in front of me, I placed this evening as my decision. As my willing and not because of him drawing my interest.

‘one with a gentle heart,
one who is able to convey calmness over a storm.”

I tilted my head as he finished his words,
“’one with a gentle heart, one who is able to convey calmness over a storm?’” I chuckled; I lifted my left eyebrow as a mark of questions.

He was chill, he replied my doubt only with a smirk, and then followed:
“you’ll see.”

“alright, sir.
Let’s see if I’ll see.”

He was far from a type of mine,
he smoked cigars although he numerously proclaimed he’s in the struggle to quit.
I don’t date smokers. I won’t, ever.

He didn’t speak politics nor he spoke any Marx,
he didn’t give a single damn about Das Kapital and would never think any of it matter,
‘he’s a simple man’, I thought to myself.
And I don’t date simple men. I won’t, ever.

Anyhow of him being the least of guy I would sleep with,
in a peculiar short time, I found myself losing my breath between his soft kisses.

He was a smoker but he washed off his top to toe before seeing me to ensure I wouldn’t smell the slightest debris of ash.

He either spaced-out or had his forehead wrinkled when I mumbled him of how Western media has distorted the World from the truth, yet he listened, letting the language of alien streamed to his ears.

He is, indeed,
one with a gentle heart,
one who is able to convey calmness over a storm,
yet to his calmness,
he could brick down my barricade,
that I surrender to his name.





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not even the outerspace

3:07 PM Unknown 0 Comments

Most of souls are fond with the idea of leaving the town when one is encountered with great sorrows
they worship the concept of starting the so-called new life,
they wish for a new place where not even a mortal acquaint them so that one can serenely be whoever they wish to be,
so convinced that to fly far away from home would free the so-called wings that they believe—have been restrained,

but what if I tell you,
no place (not even the outer space) can ever fill whatever you’re longing,
as long as the void is within?





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the classic 3 am thoughts

3:06 PM Unknown 0 Comments

thoughts that kept me awake at 3 AM

1.     The death of my Persian cat one and a half year ago: I was not there when she took her last breath. I arrived at home from a family trip only to find her stiffed, furry and tiny dead body yet when I approached, it was still warm. The last time I wept before her death was a dreadful heartbreak. When I had her in my arm for the last time, I sobbed even harder. What caught me off guard was letting her fought her last breath on her own, poor little fighter. I was, and still am, terribly sorry that she had to go without any soul around but the angel of pets’ death. Wished I were there to hold her little paws and whispered words how precious she was.
2.     How do deaf people experience music? Do they see colors in every vibration a rhythm produced?
3.     The kind of love I clandestinely wish is an obsession kind of love, to feed a passion in which I find beauty; selfishness. I want you in my possession. I want none of your skin touched by any other entity; and I want you to desire nothing but me.
4.     And how I ought to sync my sleeping pattern back. The aftermath headache has been killing me.
5.     Boy oh boy, this world is no better than a nightmare.



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Katanya,

10:03 PM Unknown 1 Comments

Katanya,

Katanya—sebenarnya ‘nya’ itu siapa sih?—jangan pernah membandingkan diri sendiri dengan orang lain, karena tiap insan adalah diberkati jalur balap sendiri-sendiri, melawan arus di sungai yang bukan milik insan lain.
Alihnya, adalah bijak untuk membandingkan diri dengan diri sendiri di masa yang telah silam. Klisenya, dengan kamu yang kemarin. Apakah ditemui dirimu yang tengah berkedip hari ini ialah lebih apik dari sosok yang telah didahulukan?

Entah apa pula tolak ukurnya, tapi sebagai manusia setengah matang yang jauh dari kata jenius, mari aku beri contoh yang sederhana;
Misalnya tiga semester lalu kamu sukanya bangun siang, selalu bolos ibadah Subuh, persetan dengan mandi segera loncat ke kampus.
Kemudian, kamu temui kalau belakangan ini yang kamu jumpai saat bangun tidur adalah jarum jam di angka 5, mengindahi ibadah Subuh, usainya tidak lagi hadir rasa ngantuk sehingga kamu hadirkan air mandi agar segar sebelum ke kampus.

Hal-hal sederhana, entahlah, empat triwulan sebelum matahari ini atau kemarin sekali, jika dibandingkan dengan waktu ini juga, adakah kamu lebih baik?

Adakah?

Jika yang tersua adalah sebuah ‘iya’, hore! Aku turut senang.

Namun apabila yang tercermin adalah sesak, menemukan ternyata sosokmu yang dulu lebih elok dan yang kau dapati saat memandang kaca sekarang adalah seonggok kegagalan;

Sini,

Kemarikan tanganmu.

Sekarang hadapi cermin di depanmu,
yang kau anggap adalah seonggok kegagalan,
justru begitu rupawan, begitu manusiawi.

Kalau boleh aku beri bicara,
tidak usah tergesa dan merasa ada di rana mendapati sosokmu yang dulu seperti lebih bersinar, aku juga tidak akan ngomong: ‘dulu saja kamu bisa, masa’ sekarang begini?’

Tidak akan mampu, dan tidak layak diperjuangkan.

Mari anggap saja sosokmu yang dulu itu manusia lain, orang lain,
jadi jangan repot ingin jadi seperti dulu.

Temui pasir pada gurun, dalam lampaunya ialah kawanan bebatuan yang gagah, macam tak terkalahkan. Namun kelamaan ia lapuk pada waktu, tertempa terik pula tergeming angin.
Hingga terkikis, halus, ia bukan lagi yang terkisah gagah; melainkan koloni pasir yang lembut.
Bukan lagi batu yang kerasnya dapat merenggut nyawa; sekadar pedih di mata apabila diterbangkan.

Tetapi, pernahkah sang gurun pasir menyesali hilangnya jejak kegagahan saat waktu belum menerjang, tatkala tubuhnya masih batu—keras dan galak?

Gelengnya: tidak.
Karena gurun pasir mengamini sosoknya yang kini,
ia paham betul kegaduhan apa yang bisa ia bawa:
sebuah badai; yang mampu mematikan kota semegah Dubai.

Paham?
Berhenti membebani diri agar kembali jadi batu,
agungkan kamu yang sekarang pasir,

ciptakan badaimu.

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