Saturday, December 19, 2015

The rain, the snow and all the things in between.

The rain drizzled softly all morning. The already cold-enough-for-Jakarta weather influenced the air conditioner to breeze uncontrollably freezing. I couldn’t help but thinking of how that was winter might feels like.


Rain never does the tragic-romantic minds like mine any good.

It’s either the gloomy-mood attack or the sudden urgency to think about life. Not like those two are dreadfully bad nor completely pleasurable that I sometimes can’t handle. But, maybe more to combination of both things that make them seem uncertainly overwhelming.

However for that specific morning, I decided to think about life. Not just because I was gloomy enough already because of certain things at work, but also because I wanted to describe what I had experienced lately.

The roller coaster kind of ups and downs, the eager and the anger, the impalpable laugh and mysterious anxiety. All in very intense form that I’d been forgetting for God knows how long. It was only a silly birthday wish, the intensity. I said I wanted to feel it all, to the level that going to psyched or crush my nerves. And yet now it became real, I felt that I failed to understand.

Perhaps, it was one of those things that aren’t supposed to do anything about, other than just to be felt loose. I told myself, “Don’t think too much, you’ve been doing it for too long.” Then I grinned. Never thought it would be easier to understand just like that.

As easy as how the snow-like rain poured that morning.


I randomly told you all of those right away, as if my thoughts hadn’t been so random ever since.

“I imagine this is how winter would like, Sharky. I want to feel the snow, I want to touch the flakes."
“Winter is way colder than that, Wabbit.”


“Stay tonight, it won't change how we feel
Although its late, I guess I'll give it one more try
Even though it's hard to think, we'll find your keys in the dark
Stay tonight, it won't change anything…”—Panama, on: How We Feel.

Monday, November 2, 2015

The day when the rain finally pouring down.

Rain rain rain pour down like tears. Wash wash wash away our fears.


As the rain goes down, there’s a distinct feeling busting hard in my chest. The feeling I remember from that night. Now that it passed, can only be defined as regret.

Could it be the same feeling you think about at the very moment?


Sting and those feelings that still sting. Will you be there and hear me sing?

Monday, May 11, 2015

dalam seucap doa.

Beberapa waktu lalu saya bertanya pada ibu, kenapa beberapa hal yang sangat saya harapkan belum juga terjadi. Bahkan seringkali terhenti saat mencapai kata hampir. Lalu kata ibu, “Kamu kurang berdoa…”


Dalam setiap kejadian pasti ada makna. Entah kurang berusaha, kurang sabar, kurang memberi, kurang berterima kasih, atau memang belum saatnya saja. Begitu cara alam semesta berbicara. Lewat tanda yang kadang sulit terbaca, lewat kesal hati yang lebih mudah terasa. Saya selalu percaya.

Lalu apakah sebuah doa?

Meskipun sedikit lebih sulit untuk memahaminya, karena logika saya kurang setuju bagaimana seucap kata-kata saja bisa secara ajaib membuat harapan jadi nyata. Tapi kemudian saya berpikir, tak mungkin sesuatu yang dipercaya sebegitu kuatnya hanya berarti sedangkal  kedengarannya.

Mungkin sebenarnya, doa terucap bukan untuk meminta. Tapi memberi waktu agar hati bisa lebih peka, untuk kemudian berdamai dengan semesta dan memahami maksudnya. Sebuah kesempatan untuk berdiam, mendengarkan, dan sejenak memejamkan mata.

Setidaknya begitu untuk saya. Sebuah momen sakral dimana hanya ada kita dan semesta, bukankah itu tak ada duanya?


Ibu menambahkan lagi sambil merangkul saya, “Kalau usaha sudah terasa melelahkan, cobalah berdoa. Doa punya kekuatannya sendiri untuk mewujudkan hal-hal.”


"When the road gets dark
And you can no longer see
Just let my love throw a spark
And have a little faith in me

And when the tears you cry
Are all you can believe
Just give these loving arms a try
And have a little faith in me..."
---John Hiatt, on: Have a Little Faith in Me.

Tuesday, March 3, 2015

let me hate you just for today.

All those paranoid posts about begal annoy me. It got into my nerves when one of my friends talking shits again about his newly started hipstery life (he was Blink 182 biggest fan for god sake). It gets me angry when I found out the Fifty Shades of Grey downloaded file that my friend gave me is totally fucked up. I’m mad about how the French fries I ordered weren’t like what I’ve been craving all day when finally delivered. I snap over the internet connection at the office when I failed to open an unimportant YouTube video about a race between babies and little animals.

I hate everything today because apparently you went working abroad with the ugly girl—which I’m pretty sure wouldn't mind if you would like to fuck her anytime—I hate for a week. That happened to be the first information I gain when I opened my eyes this morning. I also hate that.

And you… I hate you for making me feel this way.

I hate to make it impossible to just hate you forever. Because I know whatever happen I will still thinking of you in a very fond way. But today, please let me have it.

Let me hate you today, just like I hate anything else because of you.



"Does she talk about politics
And all the stuff that used to make me sick
Does she smoke cigars and stay up late, oh, she's so great

Does she tell you what you want to hear
And I bet that she can grow a beard
I'd feel better thinking you were queer, it's not fair

I can't compare to an ugly girl
To an ugly girl..."-
--Fleming & John, taken from: Ugly Girl.

Thursday, February 19, 2015

deserve good.

In between cursing the air and puking by the plants, she asks me, “Do I deserve someone good?”
I answer, “Of course honey, of course…”

“But you know… I don’t think I’m good enough as a person to have that…”

Then she pukes again, now on my lap.


Love. The best form of cruelty the universe could offer.

It always starts as something harmless. Well, at least until it makes you dare to raise the expectation. To meet your expectation, you let your other half aware of it. Often by some arguments or even tears. Then you try to work it out, you compromise. But suddenly you feel as if you are not you. You’re tired, you’re worn out. You realise your expectation hasn’t changed ever since and probably it’s not match at all with what your other half wants. You’re now angry. After that sure comes the hate. Hate towards your partner? No.

You hate yourself, that’s when love completely changing into something cautious.


“Don’t question whether you’re a good enough person or not. Ask about how sincere you are in loving other.”

Now she’s holding my hand. And I… I hold hers back.


"For you I was the flame
Love is a losing game
Five story fire as you came
Love is losing game

One I wished, I never played
Oh, what a mess we made
And now the final frame
Love is a losing game..."--Amy Winehouse, from: Love is a Losing Game.