Yin Maka Yang

Kata Yinyang, ada orang-orang berbeda sifat yang ditakdirkan untuk hidup bersama karena mereka saling melengkapi.

Kataku, kau yang pujangga tidak mungkin tahan bersebelahan lama-lama dengan seorang gila matematika. Kataku, kau harus mencari lawan main dari liga yang sama. Warna yang sejenis.

Tidak, Yinyang memaksa.

Hubungan itu seperti bahtera, tidak bisa berat ke salah satu sisi kalau tak mau tenggelam. Harus seimbang kiri-kanan.

Terserah.

Lalu hari itu aku berjalan menyusuri taman bintang untuk bertemu kekasih pujaan.

Kami sudah lama saling mengedipi satu sama lain. Jika tidak terpisah jutaan kilometer jauhnya, mungkin kami sudah menjadi sepasang kekasih yang dielu dan irikan temanku. Dia mengeluarkan sinar di galaksi lain, dan aku terperangkap di bumi. Namanya bintang.

Bukan, bukan kejora yang dinikmati banyak orang. Ini bintang pribadiku sendiri.

Teori Yinyang jelas salah.

Aku dan dia sama-sama cerah berpendar. Reaksi helium dan hidrogen di permukannya memancar, begitu pula aku dengan auraku yang menurut mereka membuat segan.

Aku dan dia sama-sama menjadi pusat gravitasi. Kami independen dan tidak bergantung pada sebuah inti, planet-planet justru berputar mengitari kami.


Lihat itu, Yinyang. Aku dan bintang adalah kembar, adalah sama. Kami tidak beda.

Kemudian kulihat mereka.

Sepasang kekasih, sang gadis dengan gitar terpasang di punggung dan kekasihnya yang berkacamata setebal botol susu.

Yang laki-laki berkemeja membosankan, memohon agar pujaannya menyanyi. Lagu favoritku, pintanya. Lalu permohonan dikabulkan. Si pria bersenandung mengiringi dengan nada lebih sumbang dari klakson metromini, namun wajah lebih bahagia dari supir yang mendapat pemasukan berlimpah. Dia tak perlu mengerti kunci G, Am, atau C, dia hanya tahu hatinya berlompatan melihat gadisnya bernyanyi dengan senyum termanis di dunia.

Selesai.

Ini tengah malam. Ayo pulang, katanya. Bergandengan tangan, dua dunia berbeda, bergerak ke arah selatan.

Sejenak hitam bertemu putih. Sepercik warna abu hadir mengganggu.

Aku berpikir lagi.

Mereka tak mungkin sama. Jengkal manapun dari isi otak mereka pasti beda bentuk dan dimensi. Kon, tras. Kontras.

Itu yang kubilang dari tadi, sambar Yinyang.

Yang berbeda memang harus bersatu. Agar harmonis, agar seimbang. Kalian yang sama harus berpisah, ibarat enzim kalian bukan jodoh dari yang lain. Berpisahlah.

Kuberitahu satu hal, Yinyang. Kecocokan itu manusia yang tentukan. Yang sama bisa klop, yang beda pun bisa pas.

Kau boleh pakai baju biru di atas celana biru, tapi baju biru di atas celana hitam pun tak kalah sedap dipandang.

Sama, beda, kalau cinta, maka apa daya.

Judul

Namanya Judul.

Tempatnya di atas, hanya terdiri dari dua sampai lima kata, tapi dibebani sebagai perwakilan utama dari paragraf-paragraf panjang. Dianggap dewa dan tertera di setiap sampul. Disalahkan jika gagal menarik hati pembaca.

Judul sering dimetaforakan sebagai pintu utama yang bisa mengundang atau mengusir tamu dari teras untuk masuk ruang tengah sebuah kisah.

“Karena dia aku bahkan tak dibaca!” ujar Paragraf Pertama.
“Dan jika kau saja dilewati, apalagi aku!” sahut Paragraf Di Bawahnya.
“Baiklah, teman-teman, kita harus buat sebuah kesepakatan. Ini bukan salah Judul. Terkadang aku yang seharusnya simpel dibuat terlalu menjelimet sehinggga orang muak.” bela Kesimpulan.
“Sudah! Diam kalian semua! Aku Judul. Aku yang sejak awal menyanggupi tugas ini. Kalau dianggap Dewa, aku harus siap dengan konsekuensinya. Kalian diam saja dan laksanakan tugas dengan baik!” akhirnya Judul angkat bicara.

Lalu semua terdiam.

“Bagaimana jika kau sendiri gagal menarik mata-mata pembeli?” tantang Tanda Baca memecah kesunyian.
“Aku… Akan mundur. Kalian boleh bunuh aku. Jadilah kisah indah tanpa Judul. Biarkan sampul itu kosong tak bertuan, kalau itu yang kalian mau. Semoga kalian sanggup.”
“Kau serius?”
“Terkadang aku pun lelah menjadi Judul. Aku ingin ber-reinkarnasi dan lahir kembali sebagai Isi. Atau Koma.”

Tanpa disangka, percakapan barusan didengar oleh Sang Penulis. Penghapus pun diambil, dan sesuai permintaan Judul, ia lenyap menjadi noda pada karet. Tidak diganti, pula tidak lahir kembali.

Semoga engkau bahagia di alam sana, doa Kata dan Kalimat.

Date A Guy Who Sings

(This is another version of Rosemarie Urquico’s ‘Date A Girl Who Reads’.)

Date a guy who sings. Date a guy who spends his money on new guitar strings instead of cigarettes. He has problems with iPod space because he has too many good songs. Date a guy who has a list of CDs he wants to buy, who has sung for his mother since he was twelve.

Find a guy who sings. You’ll know that he does because he will always hum while waiting at the bus stop. He’s the one lovingly tapping his feet to the ground when he listens to the song he loves. You see the weird gentleman smiling on the CD cover in the second hand music store? That’s the singer. They can never resist playing the songs on their guitar, especially when they have great lyrics.

He’s the guy singing while walking to the hall before that general lecture. If you peek on his iPod screen, the battery is running low because he’s kind of engrossed in the rhythm already. Lost in a world of the musician’s making. Walk by. He might give you a glare, as most guys who sing do not like to be interrupted. Ask him if he likes the song.

Walk together to the main building.

Let him know what you really think of John Mayer. See if he got through the songs of Room for Squares. Understand that if he says he completely understood the meaning of his songs he’s saying that to sound intelligent. Ask him if he loves Jason Mraz or he would like to be Jason.

It’s easy to date a guy who sings. Give him a CD for his birthday, for Christmas and for anniversaries. Give him the gift of rythms, in songs or played tunes. Give him The Script, Maroon 5, or D’Sound. Let him know that you understand that tones are love. Understand that he knows the difference between songs and reality but by God, he’s going to try to make his life a little like his favorite song. It will never be your fault if he does.

He has to give it a shot somehow.

Sing wrong pitch to him. If he understands rhythm, he will understand you need to do it. Behind tones are other things: lyrics, meanings, soul. It will not be the end of the world.

Fail him. Because a guy who sings knows that failure always leads up to the chorus. Because guys who sing understand that all things will come to an end. That you can always create another verse. That you can begin again and again and still be the master of song. That life is meant to have a wrong pitch or two.

Why be frightened of everything that you are not? Guys who sing understand that people, like pre-chorus, develop. Except in jazz songs.

If you find a guy who sings, keep him close. When you find him up at 2 AM playing a guitar on his chest and weeping, make him a cup of tea and hold him. You may lose him for a couple of hours but he will always come back to you. He’ll talk as if the lyrics in the song are real, because for a while, they always are.

He will propose on one of his gigs. Or during a rock concert. Or very casually next time he’s sick. Over Skype.

You will smile so hard you will wonder why your heart hasn’t burst or flown out of your chest yet. You will write the songs of your lives, have kids with strange names and even stranger tastes. He will introduce your children to the classic kid songs, maybe in the same day. You will walk the winters of your old age together and he will sing Ronan Keating under his breath while you shake the snow off your boots.

Date a guy who sings because you deserve it. You deserve a guy who can give you the most colorful life imaginable. If you can only give him monotony, and stale hours and half-baked proposals, then you’re better off alone. If you want the world and the worlds beyond it, date a guy who sings.

Or better yet, date a guy who creates songs.

Tempat Yang Terasingkan

Aku masih di sini. Di tempat terjauh dari hatimu. Tempat  menyimpan rindu – rindu yang tidak terungkapkan.

Aku masih di sini. Di tempat yang menampung luka – luka yang berserakan. Tempat jatuhnya ribuan tetes air mata.

Aku masih di sini. Di tempat yang bahkan engkau enggan untuk sekedar menoleh. Melihat semua penderitaan dan menyaksikan beribu kepiluan yang mendalam.

Aku masih di sini. Di tempat yang tak mungkin engkau temukan. Mengamati engkau dari kejauhan.

Aku masih di sini. Di tempat yang bahkan sebelah mata saja kau tak pandang. Memperhatikan tanpa ada yang terlewatkan.

Aku masih di sini. Di tempat yang hanya aku punya kuncinya. Merekam semua yang kau katakan.

Aku masih di sini. Di tempat dimana aku mencoba mengabadikan senyuman – senyuman. Mencoba menghapus peluh yang terkadang datang.

Aku masih disini. Mencoba berharap agar kau sadar, bahwa ada seorang yang selalu meninggikanmu dalam segala hal.

Aku masih di sini. Di tempat yang selalu kau abaikan. Di balik senyuman yang kutegar – tegarkan.

Aku masih di sini. Di tempat reruntuhan hati. Di balik air mata yang selalu kusembunyikan.

Aku masih di sini. Di tempat pusat titik kejenuhan. Di ujung pangkal kekecewaan.

Aku masih disini. Di dasar kubur air mata. Di antara puing – puing harapan.

  

Semoga ini bukanlah batas akhir dari penantian. Karena layaknya sebuah penantian tidak akan pernah berakhir.

Aku masih di sini. Di tempat bermimpi yang tak berkesudahan. Mencoba berlari tapi tetap bertahan. Mencoba melupakan namun kutahu tak semudah membalikkan telapak tangan.

Ah, semoga ini hanyalah sebuah mimpi yang panjang.

Kini biarkan aku terbangun dan jangan pernah paksa aku untuk sekedar menoleh tempat yang terasingkan.

Escaping

I am not the type of person who likes to be alone, but sometimes I like to have my own space.
I like to take my laptop and download some old-ish songs that remind me of the memories.
I like to let my imagination takes over myself and roaming around the impossible places that I couldn’t reach if I do it myself. Places where only the sounds of the wind that I could hear, the pictures of the memories that I could see, the feelings of the unspoken words that I could say.
That’s just how I clean my thoughts.

I like to leave the ground behind.
I will take one of my favorite novels, and put my earphone on and get drown in a new world.
I like to daydream what I am gonna do in 5 years, who will I end up settle down with, or sometimes I like to replay the old memories like why?
Why I said those things?
Why I let that happened?
Why didn’t I do this?
Well something like that.

A lot of people said that I’m delusional. They said I am too imaginative. But what they don’t know is, I’m just trying to replay those things, I’m trying to do the cross-check about the things that had happened.
I have to finish what I’ve started. That’s what I’ve always said to myself, because there were so many things that I left halfway.  And since then I’ve always kept in mind, when things happen I have to finish it for good. If I fight, I have to end it with peace. If I get hurt, I have to forgive. That is what I called as responsibility, that’s what I called as loyalty, and I am still learning about it.

I like to create scanarios in my head. When I read a book or watch a movie, I like to think differently. What if this girl goes to other place, or sometimes I like to do a roleplay where I am the main character in that book and experience the things in its world.
Or when I listen to a song, I like to mark it as my favorite and start to imagine things about that song. I like to connect the dots, draw a line and compare my life with that song.

Everyone has their own way to escape from the real world, build their safehaven. And this is how I do it, this is my safehaven where I will just gonna drop the thoughts that I have in mind and explore myself in a whole new perspective, in a whole new world.
When I can’t travelling, my mind does the job. Swarming around the street and bring me to my intention where it answers all the curiosity. When I think about someone who hurt me and then I will just visit my memory lane until I found what I've been looking for, forgiveness and affection.
Many people misapplied their imagination, and it will just bring them down to the bottom of the cliff of confusion. When in fact, imagination shouldn’t have brought you down to a deluded place. It should’ve been an enhance button that helps you to understand things that you need to do.

I like to refresh bad memories of mine. Memories that can only hurt me and that can open the old wounds. I like to gateaway to start afresh and bury all those memories at the back of mind. I like to have my own space so I can really feel the feeling of being present. And disenchant myself for every heartbeat, for every breath, for every blink of eyes that those rubbish thoughts and memories are nothing compared to what I have now.
It’s like you put off your heavy bag, your jacket, your shoes, and let loose your tight ponytail, that’s all a realief, that bring out a satisfactory sigh.

Like a notebook that full filled with handwriting.
When a blank a paper is full with our handwriting, just turn the page and start another one.
Clean, new, and ready to be written.

Like a new novel, we open a new chapter.
We don’t know what we’re going to read ahead, unless we start reading it now. And then we will find out.

My life could be little and boring for you. But at least it’s mine; not some assembly-line, autopilot life driven by media.

And this is how I do it, to start something new. With silent, thinking, and letting go.
How about you?

Kalau

Kamu paling suka bermain ‘Kalau’.

Gantungkan nasib pada hal lain agar kita sendiri tak terbebani, itu ide utamanya, bukan? Sudah banyak kalau-kalau yang keluar dari khayalmu. Kalau-kalau yang membuatku terkatung di ruang tanpa dasar.

Kalau lampu merah itu jadi hijau dalam 3 detik, aku akan jadi pacar kamu!
Kalau keretanya lewat dari kanan, kamu dan aku berjodoh!
Kalau kucing itu belok kanan, kita akan jadi teman seumur hidup!
Kalau koin ini menujukkan angka, maka kita…berjodoh.

Kamu dan kalaumu.
Aku dan pastiku.

Oke. Begini saja. Kalau kau menang suit dariku, kau ikut aku ke Bali.

Maka aku menang dengan tiga gunting berturut-turut. Maka kita terbang ke Denpasar. Maka kita basah di laut yang sama, tidur di angin yang sama, dan kenyang dengan roti yang sama.
Setiap kalau itu keluar dari mulutmu, jantungku melambat setengah ketukan. Nasibku digantung di tali itu. Tali kalau.

Kalau besok masih ada hari, kita akan bersama lagi!
Kalau aku tidur nanti, aku ingin mimpikan kamu!
Kalau tidak ada matahari, aku masih punya kamu untuk menyinari duniaku!

Kenapa kamu begitu tenggelam dalam laut kalau? Bukannya kalau telah membunuh perasaanmu sendiri? Kalau, kalau kalau, ka, lau, kal, au, kalau kalau kalau.
Kal.au, Gal.au.
AH! Tidak tidak.

Kita mendengar cerita bahwa Adam hidup bersama Hawa karena mereka berbagi tulang rusuk. Tuhan menciptakan mereka tanpa kalau.

Lalu kamu bilang,

Kalau Hawa tidak makan buah dari pohon itu apa yang akan terjadi?
Kalau Tuhan tidak menciptakan Hawa apa yang akan terjadi?

Ah, aku mana punya jawaban untuk itu.

Aku selalu hidup dengan kepastian dan keyakinanku.

Aku yakin akan dirimu, tapi mengapa kamu ragu?

Lalu kamu bertanya untuk terakhir kali,

Kalau Hawa tidak diciptakan dari tulang rusuk apa yang akan terjadi?

Lalu jawabku,

Aku yakin perempuan itu diciptakan dari tulang rusuk yang dekat dengan hati agar disayang. Perempuan tidak diciptakan dari tulang kaki agar tidak diinjak injak.

Kamu memejamkan mata dan bilang,

Kalau aku pergi dan kembali lagi, maka sambutlah aku
Tetapi kalau aku tidak kembali, relakan saja.

Tidak!
Bagaimana kalau kamu tidak kembali?
Bagaimana kalau kamu hanya pergi begitu saja?

Ah, puas kah kau sekarang VIRUS KALAUMU SUDAH MULAI TERTANAM DAN BERKEMBANG dalam diriku!

Aku hanya ingin memusnahkan keraguan, aku hanya ingin kau dan aku memiliki asa dalam kepastian.

Date A Girl Who Reads

Date a girl who spends her money on books instead of clothes. She has problems with closet space because she has too many books. Date a girl who has a list of books she wants to read, who has had a library card since she was twelve.

Find a girl who reads. You’ll know that she does because she will always have an unread book in her bag. She’s the one lovingly looking over the shelves in the bookstore, the one who quietly cries out when she finds the book she wants. You see the weird chick sniffing the pages of an old book in a second hand book shop? That’s the reader. They can never resist smelling the pages, especially when they are yellow.

She’s the girl reading while waiting in that coffee shop down the street. If you take a peek at her mug, the non-dairy creamer is floating on top because she’s kind of engrossed already. Lost in a world of the author’s making. Sit down. She might give you a glare, as most girls who read do not like to be interrupted.

Ask her if she likes the book.

Buy her another cup of coffee. Let her know what you really think of Murakami. See if she got through the first chapter of Fellowship. Understand that if she says she understood James Joyce’s Ulysses she’s just saying that to sound intelligent. Ask her if she loves Alice or she would like to be Alice.

It’s easy to date a girl who reads. Give her books for her birthday, for Christmas and for anniversaries. Give her the gift of words, in poetry, in song. Give her Neruda, Pound, Sexton, Cummings. Let her know that you understand that words are love. Understand that she knows the difference between books and reality but by god, she’s going to try to make her life a little like her favorite book. It will never be your fault if she does.

She has to give it a shot somehow.

Lie to her. If she understands syntax, she will understand your need to lie. Behind words are other things: motivation, value, nuance, dialogue. It will not be the end of the world.

Fail her. Because a girl who reads knows that failure always leads up to the climax. Because girls who understand that all things will come to end. That you can always write a sequel. That you can begin again and again and still be the hero. That life is meant to have a villain or two.

Why be frightened of everything that you are not? Girls who read understand that people, like characters, develop. Except in the Twilight series. If you find a girl who reads, keep her close. When you find her up at 2 AM clutching a book to her chest and weeping, make her a cup of tea and hold her. You may lose her for a couple of hours but she will always come back to you. She’ll talk as if the characters in the book are real, because for a while, they always are.

You will propose on a hot air balloon. Or during a rock concert. Or very casually next time she’s sick. Over Skype.

You will smile so hard you will wonder why your heart hasn’t burst and bled out all over your chest yet. You will write the story of your lives, have kids with strange names and even stranger tastes. She will introduce your children to the Cat in the Hat and Aslan, maybe in the same day. You will walk the winters of your old age together and she will recite Keats under her breath while you shake the snow off your boots.

Date a girl who reads because you deserve it. You deserve a girl who can give you the most colorful life imaginable. If you can only give her monotony, and stale hours and half-baked proposals, then you’re better off alone. If you want the world and the worlds beyond it, date a girl who reads.

Or better yet, date a girl who writes.

—Rosemary Urquico

Your Special Day

Happy Birthday, Love.

I’m not going to say your name, though I know you won’t see this.

But everyone who knows me will certainly know who you are.

You’ve already took a new step in life as you grow up, not only your age but your mind. You don’t know me and I doubt that you will. But I don’t mind,

To be completely honest I’m kind of sad because I realized it’s been 3 years i got caught up in you, and you still don’t know me. But love takes time right? And love worth the wait, isn’t it?

I’m wondering in this special day of yours what are you going to do? Are you going to throw a party? Having family dinner? Or celebrating it with you errr…. girlfriend? ah, it sounded bitter from my mouth. Okay, leave it there. Well, I am wondering what are you wishing for as you blow your candle later today? (timezone sucks, so I don’t really know when you will blow your candle).

Hmmm, the more I think about you the more I realize that you stand extremely— awfully far away from my grasp, it feels like I will never reach you.

Scratch that! I’m talking about your special day, and this writing is suppose to be about you.

Backt to the phase, are you happy right now? I hope you are. Because your happiness is mine, there it goes corny — cheesy line. I’m not good with words, never been. And it is hard for me to fathom the right words.

What do you usually have for your special day? A cake? Pizza? Turkey? Something fancy?

What are you going to wear? Black skinny jeans and t-shirt with boots? Or you perhaps want to look more decent by wearing suit? Or not. Well that’s all I can do; wondering.

For now, I probably can only wondering what would it be to be a part of your life. But I’m hoping one day, I could be a part of your life for real not only in my dream on my sleepless nights. Maybe one day I will stand beside you while you blow up your candle and cut the cake, and holding you saying happy birthday to you and tell you how much I love you.

But for now let me just represent my actions into words;

Happy Birthday, Love!

I’m hoping you the best in life, I’m hoping for your happiness, I’m hoping that everyone treats you right, I’m hoping you get what you wish for. And don’t forget to be grateful for everything that God has given to you, and may God’s blessings be upon you and your whole family. Many happy returns. And I love you like….i love you (guess how much?) well I love you like you wouldn’t believe.

With Love all the way from here, Clara. 

To Myself

I didn’t even want to start this with the sweet greetings, dear Me. Because at the very first time this cheesy idea—a love letter for myself—popped into my head, I hated myself. Like. There you go again, self-centered narcissistic doer.

But then I recalled what Diane Von Furstenberg said in the quotey Tumblr I saw long time ago: “The most important relationship in your life is the relationship you have with yourself. Because no matter what happens, you will always be with yourself.”
The iconic American fashion designer’s sentence… I suppose she’s true.

So, okay.

Dear Me,

This is a very-short lovey letter for you. You, too, deserve something nice, sincere, and sweet after all this time. Don’t you?

Well, I got a little nervous here. Hello. This is me, you must be familiar enough since we integrally life in the same body.

Let’s just cut the crap.

Your mediocrity, never fail in fascinating me. You may not the biggest fish in pond, not a prettiest girl in town. You’re not an object for envy. You’re such a lazy arse, not so smart though. You read books a lot, nerdy much eh? You are over dramatically mellow when it comes to love.

But look what you’ve done. Those smile. Spontaneous nicety. Your gentle caress. Cats even in love with you even though you have the opposite feeling for them.. People always ended up forgiving your fault. Because they know, you never meant to be cruel. Yes. You never do. People always ended up laughing at your jokes. Because you are hilarious even with your non—sense humor. And people always ended up asking ‘what’s wrong’ when you put a frown on your face. Because they can’t stand seeing you so upset about whatever—things—are.

Your insecurity, ah you have it a lot but somehow you manage to brush it away, even when your so—called friends calling you names. You just giving them your biggest smile brace up like it’s all nothing. But now, leave your achiever friends for a while, relax with me. Take your time. You’ve been being a good friend for all. Put in your shoes, can they do better than you? (A little shake of your head could answer it all.)



Until next time,
Me

Tanpa Judul

2014 has been a huge start for me, and these past weeks has been the most challenging yet heart breaking moment.

Pernah gak sih kamu berada di satu momen dimana kamu sedang ada di persimpangan jalan, situation are forcing you to make a choice tapi kamu cuma diem, gak pingin ngapa-ngapain. It's like you just wanted everything else to stop, for a moment or two, and breath.

Everything happened so fast that can't even feel the clock ticking and the wind moving. It's like in a snap, it just happened, like that. Udah jadi gitu aja, you can't even feel the process.

I have a sort-of love-hate relationship with this matter, waiting.
Either itu menunggu kendaraan, menunggu minum yang udah lama di order, atau menunggu...apa hayo.
Hahaha apapun itu there's always this funny and heart breaking feeling when it comes to waiting.

Last week, i was having a total heart-breaking moment. I was crying, i felt stupid.
Kenapa? karena saya harus ucapkan selamat tinggal untuk perasaan saya.

People said that loving someone is worth the wait, but is it really?

Saya menunggu seseorang untuk 6 bulan lamanya. Saya menjaga perasaan saya untuk 6 bulan lamanya. Dan setelah 6 bulan itu saya harus mengucapkan selamat tinggal untuk seseorang. Hari ini tepat satu minggu saya menjauhkan diri dari seseorang.

I was having personal battle with my heart.

Saya ditinggalkan oleh seseorang, and i was wondering what did i do wrong? Saya pikir saya sudah melakukan yang benar menunggu dan menjaga perasaan saya untuk dia. Waktu itu saya marah besar kepada dia, i was feeling betrayed.

Bukankah perasaan itu seperti wine. The longer the date, the better the taste. The longer the process, the better the quality.

But then we couldn't really blame on the feelings, because it's there for a reason. Tapi yang jadi masalah adalah timing nya. Having feelings itu yang paling susah adalah bukan saat ditolak atau di abaikan, tapi ketika harus disimpan sampai waktunya tiba and in my case the time hasn't come yet. Feelings forces us to rush things up. Mereka yang membuat kita menunggu.

Lalu setelah satu minggu penuh i'm having some time apart saya mulai berpikir, I guess soal tahan lama atau enggak nya, it all depend on us. And it doesn't mean that semua harus dilama-lamain, but the time and the process has to be right. Not too long and not too fast. I mean, if it's meant to be then it will be, right? We don't have to force things up. Let time and let God do their part, and let us do our part. Being the best guy and the best girl that we could be.

Mungkin, selama ini saya yang tidak bisa membaca waktu dan perasaannya. Saya terlalu terburu-buru menyimpulkan bahwa dia menginginkan saya seperti saya menginginkan dia. Saya tidak menyalahkan dia, atau perasaan atau waktu yang sudah saya gunakan untuk menunggunya, tetapi justru saya menertawai diri sendiri karena semua itu.

Falling in love are beautiful, it changes our perspective, the way we see things. But we don't have to rush it. Taking it slow and enjoy the ride. Just as time will heal, and it also will decide. It doesn't mean that the road will be smooth and nothing will be broken, but I could guarantee that it is all worth the wait.

Untuk kamu disana, i just wanted to say that;
"i wish nothing but the best for you"

Farewell

I’m a scribbler. I scribble a lot.


Over these past few weeks, I have especially been writing a lot with a whole mumbo-jumbo of mixed emotions. Weell, not to the point where I bravely post it in here… Mostly it just end up in my Draft Folder, like every other writing that I wrote, maybe because it’s too downright honest.

But after a lot of consideration, here’s a thought that’s worth to share with you all;


Of the hundreds of relationships you participate in throughout the course of your roller coaster life — associations of all kind: good/bad, joyful/sad, casual/serious, friendly/hostile, short/long, romantic/heartbreaking and everything in between, there will always be this one relationship that harrows you like an old wound that refuses to heal. It haunts your mind, frequents your thoughts, making it hard for you to just, breathe.

Not that like it’s impossible to heal, but maybe a part of you, unconsciously, is letting the hurt to ail you. Or maybe it’s because of the fact that you find yourself reluctant to fight a losing battle when your emotions are swinging back and forth like those dusty old broken saloon doors on rusty hinges.

You restlessly live, breathe, dream, and repeat— but such malady of discontent and heartbreak just won’t go away! Causing your heart and emotions to play a constant game of tug of war, each pulling one end of your instincts.

Wrestling with your emotions over the dream of someone who still claims so much of your sentiment but it just falls flat on the reality that the person, is no longer there… well isn’t that lovely.

Trying to make it all feel better, you try to settle down and think.

But you realize that you can't. So you choose to distract yourself… And it works wonders.

I spent a lot of nights tossing over it and it seems all roads lead to one conclusion. Ultimately, my prayer is that Jesus continue His ever-present work in my heart, change me from the inside out, unearth and kill off those roots of sin, doubt and immorality so that I may better reflect Christ, so that I may better serve Him, so that I may better understand and live the life of love He’s called me to live.

The more you mull over it, think about, and go over the scene in your mind, the more it has the opportunity to take root within your soul and plant deep seeds of bitterness.

Though I’m still learning, I’m trying hard to forgive, and the only thing that will ruin that, is if I keep on thinking about it. So better not, don’t you think? :)


My only job in this case is just to love them as Christ loves me, and to demonstrate His noble love no matter how they act in return. But how often do I worry about living a pure life of love if/when I’m not living the way God has commanded me as a follower of Christ? By all means, I am guilty.

I just want to have that hunger to experience the fullness of all God has for me on this earth, I wan’t to be caught up in the most epic adventure of a Christ-centered life, I want to be so a live and ebullient in God that I’m unshakable to the point that no allure of the world can pull myself into apathy or impassivity, most of all, I want to demonstrate God’s love towards people and that my personality and character to be His means of expression.

And thus, I believe that even when you’re going through trials or hardships in life, they can even remind you that all that are actually exciting God-given opportunities to gain greater victory, patience, faith, strength, and dependence upon Him.

So goodbye now to the breakdown between thought, emotion and behavior. Farewell to faulty perception and inapt actions and feelings. Goodbye to withdrawal from reality and personal relationships into fantasy and delusion. Good riddance to an overwhelming sense of mental fragmentation.

This is not like my usual post but it has to be said and i’m so excited about life.

To Him be glory, greatness and power.

“I ask you that we all love each other. And love means living the way God commanded us to live. As you have heard form the beginning, God’s command is this: Live a life of love.”

2 John 5-6.

To The Guy That I Love Hopelessly

Dear you…

I hate the fact that I am trying to reconstruct what I think about you.
I hate the fact that you show your dimple when you smile it makes me lose my balance, and how badly i want to shove a pencil into your dimple, oh well that sounded creepy, wasn't it?
I hate the fact that your green orbs eyes-blink make my hypothalamus order my body to stimulate adrenaline that enables my heart to pump two times faster, resulting my body to wet in this disgusting love sweat.

Why do you have to be so amazing?

Dear you…

Thank you for making me one step closer to be desperately in love with you than i already am.
Thank you for making me imagine how my hand would touch yours when I introduce you who I am.
Thank you for doing absolutely nothing, not even responding to how I feel.
Thank you for being so fantabulously amazing, ah, yes of course, I know that you live in a higher ground. I need to jump in order to grasp your toe.

But please, please, just stand there. So I know where you stand and how high I need to jump.

Dear you…

Can’t you hear it?
Can’t you hear me saying your names in my prayer? That someday you will even notice that we’re in the same world after all. That we breathe the same air.
I don’t have to switch my fin to have pairs of feet by my voice just to be part of your world, do I?
I don’t have to leave one pair of slippers just to make you chase me, do I?
I don’t have to roar in the middle of jungle just to make you realize that I exist, do I?
I don’t have to secretly wish to a magic genie to turn me into princess to outshine your aura, do I?

I never think I love you.
I never know I love you.
My brain, every smallest neuron particle of it, always orders me to find a magic wand to obliviate myself and erase you from my memory. I want to forget you. Indeed.
My rationality has never been this clear. And yet, my heart. My heart can’t just suddenly stop beating for you.
Do you know when your mother beats her heart for yours? That moment you don’t even have a heart. You’re just an embryo formed from a strong sperm injecting an ovum. You barely exist. But your mother’s heart has sustained your life in her womb.
My heart doesn’t sustain your heart. It sustains mine. It has to pump two times faster to make me live.

It hurts to forget you. It hurts to imagine that you don’t exist. Because you do exist, living life that i know i wouldn't fit in.
If I have to forget you, what will I get?
Yes, my heart will pump slower just like any other days before I met you.
Just like those other days filled with boredom and empty ambition.
Just like those old days filled with nothing.

Dear you…

I can no longer live with a slow pumping heart.
You are my pacemaker. You make my heart beats two times faster. You spark excitement to my life. To a certain extent, I feel that what I am having is idiocy. But to think that there might be chances where we meet, look at each other, smile at each other, and hold hands to say “Hi”… It denounces all my rational calculation. Possibility might still exist if I bear this pain.

For now, allow me to think of you.
For now, allow me to visualize how I might randomly meet you in the perfect time and perfect place.
For now, allow me to imagine how I will approach you, and you approach me, look up to me and listen very carefully when I whisper, “Hello, I love you”.

Sincerely,
A Girl Who Hopelessly in Love With You

Brain and Heart

Brain: "Heart, i can’t reach you. Tell me your skype, i wanna talk to you".

Heart : "Sorry, i’m busy preparing myself for him. Call me later"

Brain : “It’s about him, i had a bad feeling”

Heart : “Pardon me, feeling? Hey i owned that. Where’s your logic anyway?”

Brain : "I can’t reach you! if you keep not listen to me, i’m gonna dissapear. Let’s talk"

Heart : "I’m BUSY. LEAVE ME ALONE"

—————————————-—————————————-

Heart : "Brain….. i’m not busy right now. This place is still empty. He’s not coming. Are you there?"

Heart in the head : "Yes, i am here" 

Tinggalkan Aku

Sapuan mata terhenti pada garis tertentu.

Memilih pura pura buta supaya lupa, memilih pura pura lupa untuk meringankan luka

Semua masih langkah pura pura. Hanya perkara waktu nanti yang menjadikannya nyata.

Seperti anak kecil yang merengek dan menangis hingga tertidur, ia esok akan lupa meminta boneka atau permen.

Seperti itulah,

Semoga esok aku lupa, pernah meminta kamu

dan aku kembali berjalan bukan dengan langkah pura pura.

Jika engkau biarkan, Tuhan dan alam akan berkonspirasi membuatku lupa.

Itu jika engkau biarkan aku dan berhenti melawan lupa dengan terus mengingatmu

Sekarang setiap mimpi yang terajut,

merupakan rentang selangkah menjauh dan lalu mendekat pada hutan asa baru.

Hingga aku tergiring dan tersesat lagi dalam belukar senyum, yang tumbuh di kepalaku.

Serajut mimpi. Selangkah menjauhi lalu. Sehasta mendekati baru.

Tak cukup kau buru aku lewat kenangan, kau tikam pula aku lewat mimpi.

Maumu apa? hatiku sudah terkoyak, aku tak punya lagi.

Bagaimana menghilangkanmu?

Saraf di kepala bagian mana yang harus kuputus untuk mengenyahkan kamu yang terus menggerogoti.

Seperti rayap

Yang enggan meninggalkan kayu.

Sudah cukup kau jajahi aku seperti itu.

Kamu lari dari hati ke kepala. Mengobrak-abrik lagi apa apa saja yang masih tersisa.

Perjalananmu mengalir bersama darah. Mendesir gelisah ke segala arah.

Sesampainya di kepala kamu bingung. Ada kamu di dalamnya. Bukan satu, tapi seribu, dua ribu, entah kau sendiri tak sanggup menghitungnya.

Di hati kamu hanya satu, di kepala kamu sejuta, menempati luas rasa yang sebesar luar angkasa dikali dua.

Tak peduli, kau ajak semua kamu di kepala memporak porandakan semua. Lalu banjir air meluapi mata. Menggenangi pipi lalu ke hati.

Lalu kamu pergi, namun sedikitmu terus kembali.

Kaulempar sendiri bayanganmu kesini.

Bisa tolong berhenti.

Bisa kah engkau berikan aku waktu.

Bukankah aku sudah mengaku kalah?

Bukankah aku sudah tidak punya apa apa lagi?

Kapan aku bisa membenahi diri?

Tolong, kiranya engkau beri aku kesempatan untuk menjalani hidup yang baru, tanpamu. 

Buku

Ada rentetan huruf yang belum ku-eja. Tersimpan dalam buku. Kutelusuri satu per satu halamannya. Hingga kutemukan namamu.

Buku...

Aku mulai membacanya, aku tahu bab awal, tapi aku tak tahu kapan bab terakhir. Yang kutahu aku harus terus membuka satu per satu. Pada suatu halaman, aku beri pembatas buku berupa pita berwarna merah. Aku terhenti. Aku berhenti. Di situ.

Aku baca paragraf awal. Ah, bahkan membaca paragraf pertama hati ini sudah terasa nyeri. Aku tak yakin sanggup membaca paragraf-paragraf berikutnya.

Enggan membaca lagi. Kutinggalkan di rak buku. Setiap kutengok, yang aku lihat jelas hanya seutas pita merah yang terapit di antar halaman buku.

Terantuk di satu masa, ingin kusobek halaman berpembatas merah itu menjadi bagian-bagian kecil. Kuremas-remas dan kucabik, lalu kubuang saja di tempat sampah. Karena di halaman itu, kata kata yang tertulis terlalu tajam seperti belati. Ceritanya menyakitiku. Huruf-hurufnya menerjang akal sehatku. Setiap paragrafnya melumpuhkanku.

Aku terduduk di lembah bisu. Tak ada yang akan kubaca lagi. Tak ada yang ingin kubaca lagi.

Kemudian angin sepi berhembus. Keheningan merambati kulitku. Aku bergidik. Kusentuh lagi buku itu.

Kupegang pita pembatas berwarna merah di sela halaman yang kubenci. Warna yang cantik, namun tidak secantik kisah yang tertulis di halaman yang mengapit pita itu. Tapi bukankah itu yang menjerujiku. Pita itu selalu menjadi pengingat akan alur yang tak kuingin kubaca, sekalipun pita itu indah bagaikan pelangi senja. Tapi bukankah buku ini belum selesai? Bukankah aku belum tiba pada bagian akhir?

Kutarik dan kuenyahkan pita itu, dengan segenap tenaga kubalik lagi halaman baru. Berhenti terlalu lama membuatku lupa aksara. Kini aku kembali belajar membaca.

…… dan akan ku-eja namamu segera. Di halaman-halaman setelahnya. Akan ku temukan bagian akhir dari Buku kita.

Marah

Semua orang berlomba-lomba untuk berwibawa. Ujung-ujung nya tolol.

Semua orang berlomba-lomba untuk didengar. Ujung-ujung nya semua pura-pura tuli.

Semua orang berlomba lomba menjadi penguasa dan penjilat. Ujung-ujung nya kualat.

Semua orang berlomba-lomba jadi kaya. Ujung-ujung nya gila.

Semua orang berlomba-lomba untuk perduli. Ujung-ujung nya hanya kepo.

Semua orang berlomba-lomba untuk dipuji. Ujung-ujung nya hanya cari popularitas.

Semua orang berlomba-lomba untuk dihormati. Ujung-ujung nya jadi tidak tahu diri.

Semua orang berlomba-lomba jadi cantik. Ujung-ujung nya maksa.

Semua orang berlomba-lomba (terlihat) pintar. Ujung-ujung nya ngotot.

Banyak orang memuja senjata demi kekuasaan.

Banyak orang mati demi baju bagus dan perhiasan.

Banyak orang berani malu demi kepopularitasan.

Hidup bukan hanya sekedar popularitas, harta, jabatan, atau kecantikan.

Hidup itu waktu.

Hidup itu pelajaran.

Hidup itu kesempatan.

Saya marah terhadap diri sendiri, saya marah terhadap orang-orang. Bahwa tanpa kita sadari hidup kita terpaku pada keegoisan.

Saya marah, dunia ini marah, tapi jangan biarkan Tuhan marah.
Karena, apa yang kita miliki saat ini adalah milik-Nya, dan sudah seharusnya kita memusatkan diri pada-Nya, bukan pada hal duniawi.

The Best Thing That We Have

Call me a fanatic, but i’m crazy about my parents.

Bila ada dua orang yang paling sering membuat kita jengkel karena sering melarang dan ngomel-ngomel, pasti mereka adalah; ayah kita dan mantan pacarnya aka ibu kita.

Terutama dalam masa rebellious kayak kita ini. Yang terlintas dipikiran pasti “nyokap sama bokap tuh sok tahu banget, udah kayak yang paling bener aja.” Well, at least hal itu setidaknya pernah terlintas dipikiran kita. Tapi menurut saya; parents aren’t always right, but when they’re not...at least they know how to get away with it.

Apa yang membedakan kita dengan orang tua kita? Jawabannya; Pengalaman. Kadang kita suka gak sadar bahwa mereka juga pernah muda. Mereka juga suka bohong pada ayahnya kalau mau pergi sama teman-teman. Mereka juga pernah pacaran backstreet karena belum boleh pacaran sama ibunya. Dalam beberapa hal mereka pernah mengalami apa yang kita alami dan memiliki apa yang kita miliki.

Tahu gak sih bahwa waktu kita lahir mereka bukan cuma bahagia, tapi juga kebingungan. Seumur hidupnya mereka sudah melakukan semua, tapi selama itu pula mereka tidak pernah menjadi orangtua. Mereka hanya berpikir “what is this thing? And how do i keep it alive?”. Kemampuan mereka untuk menjadi orangtua yang baik, hanya sebesar kemampuan kita menjadi anak yang baik. Mendekati nihil.

Orangtua saya tidak melalui hidup yang mudah, saya tahu itu. We’re ok now, but we weren’t always ok. Terkadang saya sendiri lupa bahwa hidup butuh perjuangan. Terkadang saya juga lupa kalau hidup saya selama ini diperjuangkan oleh orangtua saya. Mereka menyediakan, mereka melindungi, mereka mendoakan, dan terkadang mereka menertawakan keluguan kita. Tapi saya tahu betul they’re there for us.

Kadang, di tengah kesibukan kita dengan sekolah, hobi, kita suka lupa sama apa yang kita punya dirumah, kita terlalu fokus terhadap masalah kita sendiri. Dont get me wrong, i’m as guilty as you are. Tapi perasaan itu yang membuat saya sadar, bahwa penjahat yang paling keji pun di titik rendahnya akan teringat oleh ibunya. Setiap memikirkan itu saya pun teringat betapa beruntungnya saya hari ini, karena saya masih memiliki mereka yang mau menopang saya.

Untuk anda yang masih memiliki orangtua, baik keduanya atau hanya salah seorang, bersyukurlah karena kita masih memiliki keluarga. Betapa beruntungnya kita untuk sekedar mengetahui bahwa ada yang peduli kepada kita, bagaimanapun keadaan kita.  

A daughter of amazing parents,

Clara.

To Someone That I Have Been Dreaming Of

They say that perfect men are not real, I assume they’re true. The thing is, I don’t need a perfect man. I simply need you—someone I haven’t even known yet—who’s willing and going to complete my incomplete puzzle, who loves me, passionately, just the way I am, someone who can understand my weirdness. That one particular person whose weirdness is compatible to mine, because I’m that weird.

I don’t know who you are now. Let me guess. You’re probably watching those non-sense movie, or maybe you’re reading a book, in your room while looking at the ceiling, or you probably are gazing on Jakarta’s beautiful sky scrappers. Perhaps, you’re not even in Jakarta. What if you’re actually in a different timezone from me, reading a book you recently just bought from Barnes and Nobles in Central Park, New York City? Or you just got back from wallmart and listen to the same music as me?

I’ve mentioned a lot about someone who reads. It’s probably because I want you to have the same hobby as I do. I want to read a book, with you by my side, let our minds wander in our own readings, experiencing what Mia and Vincent from Pulp Fiction did. When we can just shut our mouths up, and comfortably enjoy the silence.

Dear you,

I don’t know how we will meet and where we will see each other. Oh, probably I’ve already met you before. You’re probably the guy who always goes to the same bookshop as I do, or maybe once you went to the same cafe as I did. Or you’re the guy who went to the same school as me?

My mind is tired of wondering of what kind of person you are. Are you a guy who wears clothes with collars every single day? Are you someone who’s as simple as what you love to wear every single day, a comfy t-shirt and a pair of skinny jeans? Are you a type of person who listens to Jazz music and love to write a piece of music, with soothing melody? I have no idea. And no, don’t worry. Once I already met you, I won’t compare you to my favorite fictional character or my favorite actors ;)

To someone I don’t even know yet, someone who will make reality seem better than what romantic-happy-ending-novel always describes, someone who proves that happy ending isn’t only in the movies, someone who quotes a lot from books and always compares whenever a movie out of the book he reads come out, I love you. And I’ve been waiting for you to come.

With love,
The Girl Who Has Been Expecting to Meet You Soon

To The Guy on My Twitter Timeline

 Hello!

Or should I say aloha, holla, or something in another language? Since you like to travel around the world. It’s kinda fun to see how often you post the pictures of some places you’ve stepped on, or funny pics of you, you literally post everything on twitter. I remembered when you posted a picture of you where you put a big cheese on your head or when you posted a picture when you got tied up or when you posted a picture of you in paris, or when you posted a picture when you lost scrable with your mom. I do know too that you like to use the word ‘pal’ to call your friends and it’s good because the word ‘pal’ sounds like you try to get closer with everyone and you want everyone to feel that way too. I see how much you love your family and your literally 4 amazing brothers and your job through your tweets. And how much you love your boots, I saw your tweets about your boots that made a couple of holes due the fact that you wear it every time.  Or how much you like to wear bennie or hat and I found it cool, it fits you and your curly hair perfectly.

You may be wondering why I  notice that kind of things but well who didn’t know that? Moreover you must not know me since we haven’t met. Well basically I’m one of your followers on twitter. I heard you and your band-mates was formed as a band at the talent show and I heard you guys sang and I loved it, so I found your  (and band mates) twitter and I followed you (and your band mates) I like hearing to all of you and your band-mates songs and your raspy voice oh how i want so badly to hear the voice of yours like directly. I bet the girls that had been together with you were lucky. You’re tender, you’re such a gentleman, you’re kind, and you don’t badmouth people. I remembered that time when you dated a girl it didn’t last long though and I was glad for that (sorry). Because the day that the pictures of you and her spread up very fast like the wind I felt a pang in my heart which was not healthy because you don’t even know that I’m exist, we haven’t met.

I basically in love on how you tweet with such positive energy by always adding ‘x’ at the end of your tweet. I surprisingly in love on how you brilliantly respond to everyone’s tweet. I unintentionally in love on how you always tweet passionately about things that make you feel alive, about meeting new people, foods, concerts, places. Most of all, I deeply in love on how that gorgeous and heartwarming smile of yours never vanish from your peaceful face. And the dimple, it makes you even cuter. I genuinely think I love you at the first sight. But scratch that. How can I be in love with you at the first sight when we haven’t even shared any sight at all?

This letter may sound creepy, though you might not going to see this. The fact that we have no family relation whatsoever yet I know things about you make me sound like an obsessive stalker. Trust me I’m not. Let just say I am your virtual secret admirer. Above of all, a dosage of blissfulness in your tweet brings happiness in me too. Believe me, it’s contagious. If there’s a lesson that you indirectly teach me is that we are actually luckier and could be happier than we think we are. We just sometimes choose not to. We should just living life to the fullest.

I hope this is not inappropriate. I sometimes wonder will you notice me, will you at least follow me on twitter so you know that there’s a girl who dying to be seen by you. But, thank you. Thank you for being you.

I guess that is all.

Sincerely,

The girl who followed you on twitter

Rangkaian Tentang Kau

Kau, benang hidupku, kita sulam waktu bersama untuk jutaan windu

Kau, museum masa depan, ku tabung senyummu mulai dari sekarang

Kau, bilangan sempurna, akan ku hitung hingga ajal menjelma di hadapan kita

Kau, adalah tuturan doa, yang akan selalu kuaminkan

Kau, bagaikan rumah, tempat dimana aku menetap

Kau, gaungan suara, yang hanya terdengar dikepalaku

Kau, kertas putih kosong, akan ku tulis jutaan kisah kita diatasnya

Kau, tanah tempat berpijak, menopang tegapku memetik langit

Kau, sepasang sayap, membawa ku terbang menuju tak terbatas

Kau, api yang menghangatkan, mendekapku erat dalam dingin malam

Kau, adalah gravitasi, biar ragaku jatuh atas dirimu

Kau, rangkain bunga mawar, harummu semerbakkan hariku

Kau, adalah piano, yang memainkan lagu-lagu cinta

Kau, pelukis handal, sapukan warna merah jambu pada pipiku

Kau, hembusan angin, menyapu air mata yang turun

Kau, kumpulan rindu, rentang panjang yang tak ingin ku ukur

Kau, lentera cahaya, terangkan makna bahwa cinta sejati ada

Kau, jantung hatiku, denyut dan degupnya selalu terdengar saat bersamamu

Kau, seperti harmoni, music mengalun indah disetiap kecapmu

Kau, kumpulan album foto, yang menyimpan kenangan dalam gambar

Kau, adalah jawaban, yang akan kupilih sampai mati

Kau, kumpulan sajak, uraian kata yang tersimpan dalam ruang hati

Kau, sosok paling rasional, yang membuatku berpikir irasional

Tertanda,

Clara Eclesia Fides.