akhirnya di sore yang gloomy ini, aku menyanyi jugaa...

head over feet

I had no choice but to hear you
You stated your choice time and again
I thought about it

You treat me like i'm a princess
I'm not used to liking that
You ask how my day was

Chorus:
You've already won me over in spite of me
Don't be alarmed if i fall head over feet
Don't be surprised if i love you for all that you are
I couldn't help it
It's all your fault

You love is thick and it swallowed me whole
You're so much braver than i gave you credit for
That's not lip service

You are the bearer of unconditional things
You held your breath and the door for me
Thanks for your patience

You're the best listener that i've ever met
You're my best friend
Best friend with benefits
What took me so long

I've never felt this healthy before
I've never wanted something rational
I am aware now
I am aware now

lihat, matahari? lihat, matahari? aku bernyanyi lagi :)

sendirian di suatu sore yang gloomy, ah ingin menyanyi...

aku kesepiaannn...hwa..hwa...hwa...

when i decided to leave him, i know that i left a part of me there,
my love my dear love...i know it hurts, i know it does, and the pain will still be aching in our heart for the time that i dont even know until when...
but this is the rightest way my love, for by being brave and encouraging ourselves to open our eyes would make us grow...to see the truth...to let our bare feets feel the real coldness of the grass in the misty moor...
one day, if we finally have fully grown, we will be able to look back to this one particular point in our live when we are forced to leave our warm and steady hiding cave, and smile...feeling glad that at the least point we know that we had finally able to let go our deepest feeling that had been locked inside for a long time...the feeling called courage...for we know that only by trusting ourselves with our own courage, we could open our eyes and see the world, feel the world with our most honesty, not with superficiality...

i love you, i hope you know that... and i guess that 'love' is far beyond romance now, i love you because i care for you, i want to see you grow, i want to see you smile to the world because i know you could, i want to see you run fast to reach your dreams...
so please dont cry... you are more than everything to me, you are a part of me...my best friend that i care for...

i want you to know that i could take care of myself, no need to be worry... :) i'm reaching my sunshine, i'm running and hopping and cheering and smiling to my dreams, i will see the world with my own eyes, with honesty and with hope :)

jadi hari ini, tanggal 27, aku tahu aku kesepian dan aku memikirkanmu... i hope ur doing fine there :) aku tidak lupa tanggal ini, dan meski tidak kulakukan lagi meneleponmu di tengah malam hanya untuk mengucapkan selamat tanggal 27, aku memeluk tanggal ini, tanggal kita. dan aku akan tersenyum karena hati ini tahu bahwa aku, dan kamu, dan the rest of the world akan baik-baik saja.

dan matahari, matahari yang kumiliki, menggenggam tanganku erat hari ini dan membuat hari yang dingin ini menghangat... setidaknya di hatiku.
hujanku, suatu hari nanti akan kubawa kamu pada matahari.

dan matahariku...bersinar hari ini.
biarkan aku tersenyum untukmu?

---sisie---

raining ode for rainy him

Katakanlah, ketika malam datang, aku melihatmu disana.
Kamu tersenyum, dan menggenggam tanganku erat.
Tidur saja, bisikmu, lalu selimutku kamu naikkan.
Tidak perlu, sudah hangat, kataku. Kamu tidurlah.
Kamu tersenyum, tidak berkata apa-apa, tidak juga membiarkan aku melepaskan selimut yang nyaman memeluk itu.
Lalu jemarimu membelai rambutku, aku menutup mata.
Dan hangat jemarimu, tetap terasa sampai aku benar terlelap.

Lalu sebutlah, di malam lain, ketika hujan dan angin meniup dingin.
Aku melihat keluar jendela dan kamu ada disana.
Menunggu dengan diam, hendak membawaku pulang.
Lalu keluarku dan kamu tersenyum.
Dingin, kataku sambil merapatkan jaket.
Ayo cepat pulang, katamu. Aku tidak ingin angin membawa sakit untukmu.
Lalu kamu menggenggam tanganku erat, dan aku sadar kalau kamu tidak mengenakan jaketmu.
Mana jaketmu? Tanyaku. Aku juga tidak mau angin membawa sakit untukmu.
Jaketku ada di tas, nanti saja. Katamu.
Nanti bagaimana? Lihat angin yang meniup itu. Sikerasku.
Kamu terdiam lalu menarik tanganku sambil mengelus jemariku dengan jemarimu.
Aku terdiam, tidak ingin berdebat.
Dan ketika kita berdua naik ke atas bis yang akan membawa kita pulang.
Pendingin buatan semakin menusuk tulang.
Lalu aku melihat kearahmu, khawatir akan keadaanmu.
Ingin bicara tapi aku diam saja, tidak ingin berdebat, tidak ingin memancing amarahmu.
Lalu kamu membuka tasmu dan mengeluarkan jaket itu.
Pakai ini, katamu. Aku sengaja menyimpannya dalam tas,
Karena kalau aku pakai lebih dulu ketika hujan dan angin meniup saat aku menunggumu di luar jendela,
Maka jaket ini akan menjadi dingin oleh hujan dan angin.
Dan aku tidak bisa menghangatkanmu lagi.
Pakai ini, aku tidak ingin angin membawa sakit untukmu.
Aku terdiam, tidak tahu harus berkata apa.
Aku tahu aku juga tidak ingin angin membawa sakit untukmu, aku tahu aku sayang kamu.
Lalu kamu menggenggam tanganku erat,
Dan aku mengenakan jaketmu diatas jaketku,
Sambil bersandar di bahu dinginmu yang tidak terlindung penghangat apa pun.

Lalu hari lain ketika aku berbohong,
Kamu peluk aku erat dan mengelus rambutku.
Air mata, disana.
Tapi kamu tetap peluk aku meski air mata disana.

Lalu semua kata-kata
Baik, buruk, benci, jahat, indah, kekanakkan...
Semua air mata
Semua genggaman tangan dan tarian dalam hujan
Semua pelukan erat dan semua menit dimana kita lama terdiam
Semua amarah dan semua senyum yang ada
Hari ini harus pergi.

Dan aku sedih.
Sedih sendiri.
Dan kamu sedih.
Sedih sendiri.

Dan aku berjalan, sendiri di tengah hujan.
Tidak lagi menengok.
Dan kamu menatap
Jauh dibelakang.

Cintaku pada hujan, cintaku pada awan yang mendung
Bau tanah yang basah dan genangan air di ujung jemari kaki.
Pergi.

Matahari, pagi ini.







Tidak akan hilang, muffin ku. Selamanya disini.
Meski cinta sudah berbeda.
----sisie----
191202
2211

staying awake at night in a stupid stiff bed, staring at the ceiling, rationalizing love...

There's this time in my life when i held his hand tight
and looked deeply to his eyes, his observant adorable eyes which i always relish
to gaze and wonder how does it feel to see the world through those eyes, and
there he was smiling at me and said that he loves me.

you do? i asked him. quite rhetoric i guess because i
knew exactly what he was going to say.

yes. i do. do you? he asked me back. And i knew that it
did not meant to be rhetoric for the fact that i kind of always hid at my warm
blanket and sort of baffle him with my endless doubts and the rickety stage i
put him in to.

what is love? i gave him a question as an answer for
his question. And i found his reaction towards my question was very amazing
because most people would be pretty annoyed to have this kind of answer for
their question - this i know because most people ask questions because they do
not keen to think further thus searching for a settlement for the anxiety which
trouble their minds, however, if someone answers their questions with another
questions, the settlement stage for their anxiety would not be achieved, because
they are forced to think more, and to think more means to be involved more in
those anxiety status of mind. therefore, they will most likely feel annoyed, for
the fact that they are sort of obliged to think more. - his reaction, however,
is far from annoyed, and i knew that was because he loves to think. So he gazed
at a distant and i knew that's because he was thinking.

it is... when you feel that someone has become a part
of you. he said. you are a part of me. he continued.

oh okay. i thought. maybe he is right. this feeling
called love is beyond caring, beyond liking, those are the elements of love, but
the love itself is far more beyond that.

so last night i kind of observed my own feeling towards
him. i starred at the ceiling and tried to recall all of the feeling i have when
he is around.

my feeling. i know my feeling is very complex, and at
certain points, it became really complicated that it caused a lot of trouble,
not only for me but also for other people. and that night i tried to understand
my own feeling, to rationalize whatever i'm feeling inside, to examine
logically what is going on deep within my head (and heart, i guess... ).

feel. feeling. what do i feel for him? what do i feel
inside when i'm with him?

i feel so many things going on within me when i'm with
him. so many things at the same time.

i feel happy yet afraid.

i feel excited and thrilled yet mellow.

i feel taking yet taken.

i feel this unusual sense of being smart and full of
inspiration, yet i feel my nothingness.

those feelings are contradicting each other and they
are all happen at the same time when i'm with him. i hardly couldnt explain why
such state is happening in my head, let alone define what is actually the
meaning of all these. however, as i spent more hours awake on my stupid stiffed
bed, i started to see those contradictive feelings, those feelings which oppose
one another as a form of a balance. just like the yin and yang, things are
opposing each other and they are completing one another. then i came to one
conclusion that at the state when you are completing each other, then it means
that you are a part of one another.

so i feel that he is a part of me

therefore i 'love' him.

i guess now i could answer his question not with
another question.

good night, thinker-bell.

161204 - 2.54

--sisie--

One Trifling Day...

Thinker-bell… that day you laughed.
You and me, sitting together in
two stupid little red chairs
sort of inhaling death.

And you said it was funny,
because all of a sudden I was there
There in your life.

And I said it was zany
because all of a sudden you were here
stayed in my heart.

And you said that you love me.
And I said that I don’t know,
guessed I feel the same way too.

And you said
with a funny furrowed brow
‘what do you mean that you don’t know?!
one should be able to define one’s own feeling’.

And I kissed you that day.
And I saw you closed your eyes.
And I let you held my hand.

And the next thing I knew
was that
I agree with you

---sisie---
6.12.2004
2202

Admirably Enjoyable, But Not in A Relaxing Way

A review on Pat Barker’s Union Street

‘… But even when he had succeeded in forcing her hand to close around the smelly purple toadstool, it wasn’t enough. He forced her down and spread himself over her, his breath smelling strongly of peppermint and decay. At first her tight skin resisted him, and he swore at her until he found the way in...’

Terrified, shocked and swept. Nobody would ever forget those lines when Kelly Brown, the first character introduced by Pat Barker in this novel, is being occupied by the man. Terrified, yes, for Barker described the episodes with a smooth, terrifying and emotionally-throbbing plot with a very descriptive language that suck our mind into it. Shocked, certainly, for she had successfully managed to create a nice flowing story where we keep questioning about Kelly’s mind and her next fate, which make us decide to keep on following that little girl wherever she go in order to peek right into every single action that she did, and guessing on what would probably happen to her. And yes, as we got the result, still we got that striking shocking sensation for Barker had managed to frame and play with that cliché episode carefully so it doesn’t come out to be cliché at all. And for sure yes we got swept, for the author had made our mind so engaged with the character that we even beg and wish unconsciously when it has come to the line when we finally made our guess that yes, that man is going to rape her, that no, we wish so bad that it is not happening. We wished as if we were Kelly, as if we were thinking as she did, and feel the same fear as she was.

Probably those descriptions might sound a little bit too exaggerated. There’s no way a writer could create such superb sensation, well at least not on her FIRST NOVEL, right? And by the way, what the hell is this about anyway? She called it a novel but she had made it as if it is a collection of short story with titled the main character’s name each. Is it because she hadn’t been able to develop a full and long story just like a novel supposed to be so she decided to divided into several shorter stories describing each character’s life? And who’s the main character of this novel anyway? If she decided to tell every single inches of each character’s life, then which one did she meant to be the bold one just like a main character supposed to be?

Questions, questions, questions. And yes, to be able to answer those you definitely need to read this book. It’s a fun searching though, you will find yourself enjoy your trip on searching for the answer of those questions, but probably it is not enjoyable as in relaxing and cheering kind of way, for this novel is deep, almost depressing.

It is a novel which tells a story about a street, called Union Street, where people from working class lived and died. There are people living in that street, and each character has their own stories, their own suffers, their own masks, and yet their own happiness, or escapes. And as you read the story one by one, character per character, yes you’ll get the sensation of being terrified, shocked and swept at once for these stories are alive and stayed in our minds even after we finish reading it. Just like we won’t forget Kelly’s pain and anger, we will feel Joanne Wilson’s fear and dilemmas, Lisa Goddard’s burden, Muriel Scaife’s sorrow, and so on and so on. Barker uses a very strong and descriptive language, as well as a nice flowing yet hard-to-predict plot which really contributes in her success in creating such sense. She zooms up close to a significant or emblematic detail to magnify the scene for the reader. Depending on the detail she chooses, the effect can be vivid, moving, shocking.

Furthermore you’ll see then, that Union Street is not a collection of short stories, each story of each character are united by a thin red line, the street, the fact that they live in the same street allocated for the working class people, Union Street. This fact shows that even though they carve up different problems and tales, they share one similarity; they are living poorly and are all working-class women, who try to survive. Barker’s trying to picture this condition of working-class life, and she chose women as the characters that she wants to explore and emphasize to portrait their struggle towards the disheartening situations.

And in this novel, every character is the main character, for she believed that every eye has it own vision and every heart has its own beats. The women in this novel are the main character of their own life, and every single inch of their life is meaningful and poignant. All of their stories contribute and strengthen the same idea, that life is a battle for the survivor.

So if you’re looking for a fluffy lovey fairy tale with lots of beautiful dreams and sweet tingling sensations, here’s a suggestion; find another book, for this is the kind of book that will always pat in you in the head in every single line you read to remind you the reality of the life. If you the kind of person who reads for fun to escape from your already tough daily stressful work, you won’t find this book relaxing. Well, probably not at all scenes, there is still a humorous section with a bit of sexual content in Blonde Dinah’s chapter, you can skip the entire chapter and read that one. It is still quite depressing and touching in a way to find out or to guess her real miserable life or feeling, but there’s still the funny sexual content, you might enjoy that. But yes, if you’re looking for a good book with an admirable exploration on languages which carry your emotion deeply and keep your feet on the ground, you will definitely enjoy this one.

Prettier Eyes to See Prettier World

A Review on Toni Morrison’s The Bluest Eye

…“Please, God,” she whispered into the palm of her hand. “Please make me disappear.” She squeezed her eyes shut. Little parts of her body faded away. Now slowly, now with a rush. Slowly again. Her fingers went, one by one; then her arms disappeared all the way to the elbow. Then her chest, her neck. The face was hard, too. Almost done, almost. Only her tight, tight eyes were left. They were always left.

Try as she might, she could never get her eyes to disappear. So what was the point? They were everything. Everything was there, in them…

Everything was there indeed. Pecola Breedlove couldn’t be able to make her own self whole fully disappear from this catastrophic and miserable life. Her eyes were always left, forcing her to see the world with those eyes. World full of calamity and misery, world of never-ending whipping and beating, world where you see yourself seen with a distant gaze, a total absence of human recognition even by the storeowner from whom you bought candy, world where your friends, if you might call them so, use your name to mock others, world where you see other kid call your mother Polly, a given name you could never ever dare to give to your mother, world where you’re always afraid, world of pain, world of total submission.

You could not possibly do anything about it, for your eyes were always there. Like it or not they would seemingly force you to see that world. And even for the worst part of it; those eyes let you see yourself, there in the mirror. Your face, stood there in a nauseating distant. You’d then begin to see and realize that your face stood there without the skin of fairest complexion and without a sheer of beautiful pink blush on each cheek, without the hair which is dazzlingly blond and the curls that shines, and the eyes which is so not beautiful, which is not blue. Those eyes force you to see all of the ugliness of life, all of the ugliness that could ever bear by a person.

Pecola Breedlove could no longer bear those ugliness. And because God couldn’t grant her wish to make her eyes disappear to save her from seeing those ugliness, she’s thinking of another wish. Another wish that would solve her problem. She wished and she prayed to God, to make her eyes blue. Because blue eyes are pretty and if she could see through prettier eyes, then probably she would see prettier world. Probably everything would be better if she’s prettier.

It’s a complete package of pain, anger and pitiful feeling as Toni Morrison, the author of this novel, brought the issue of racist beauty through this novel. At first she brought up the issue of standard beauty with the haven standard of living; a happy beautiful white family with pets in a happy beautiful house. If everyone wants to seek for a happy life, everyone should refer to that concept. The results for those who can not fulfilled to reach those described, however, is a mix of frustration and anger.

The frustration and the anger are everywhere in this novel. We can feel it in the deep thought of mostly all characters. What is interesting is that their frustration and anger was also the root of other character’s frustration and anger. For instance, Pauline Breedlove, who can not fulfill her standard of happiness she dug up from beautiful actor and actress in the movie screen, uttered her frustration and anger to her family that she considered as a part of her devastated life, something that she always want to deny. The fact that she bore two ugly, not beautiful, children were making her denial even worse. Similar case occurred also in other characters in this novel.

In Pecola Breedlove, the main character of this novel, the frustration and anger had somehow gathered in a different retort of reaction and emotion. For all the calamity, misery and sadness she felt, she was trapped in a situation of hatred and powerless at the same time. This powerless made her could not do anything to save her from her feeling of frustration and anger. The only elucidation she could think of to cope with the situation is to eliminate the ugliness from her, something that she believed as the cause of her frustration and anger.

As a result of her elucidation conversely is the bridge that brings the reader of this novel to the whole real message conveyed by its novel. That’s why it is even more astonishing and enjoyable for the reader to read this novel more than once, because by reading the novel over again several loop holes within the whole flow of the story that would only be patched as the message is fully conveyed would be whole fully patched up, thus make the story even more heart-throbbing.

The issue of racist beauty chosen by Toni Morrison is a strong point that emphasized the eminence of this novel. She successfully conveys the anxiety of the black society in answering the concept of standard beauty. With Pecola Breedlove as her tool, she gives a picture of frustration and anger in the community at that moment. As the result, she left the reader with the feeling of touched, petrified, after finishing this novel. Yet the philosophic questions will still linger, if you were prettier, would life be better?

A Puzzle Game

A Review about the Novel ‘Snake’ by Dewi Anggraeni.

Reading Dewi Anggraeni’s Snake is like playing the jigsaw puzzle game without knowing how the puzzle would be when it has already performed in full form at the end of the game. The excitement you’d have at first, the curiosity that pump up in your mind, and the challenging sensation that tingling in your minds for finishing the game.

And yes, likewise any puzzle games that touch your curiosity, so does this novel successfully done in building the heat of the story, well at least at the first parts of the novel. Enriched with the unique cultural elements of the East, by dissolving the exoticness of the East such as superstitions, unique customs as well as the meeting of the East culture and West culture – Serena, the central character of this novel, is described as a mix-blooded of a Chinese-Sundanese mother and an Australian father – make this novel is appealing and elicits the readers’ curiosity.

So, as the first page of the story within this novel is opened, the game then starts to begin. Pieces by pieces of puzzle are thrown everywhere and it’s the readers’ duty to collect those pieces one by one in order to make them a complete form. At first, it’s a very exciting game. As soon as you find the first pieces, which introduce you to the journey, you’ll begin to enjoy it. There is the description about Serena, a brief explanation about her life, a little touch about her love life and quite appealing sensations about the East culture in the first piece of the puzzle you’ll find. And then, as you continue the game, the next piece you’ll find will give you a little clue about how finally the puzzle would be then. It’s about the Snake brooch that Serena got and the mystery that surrounds it which would really attach your curiosity. You’ll then feel the sense of mystery which most likely is the most visible factor for you to keep on playing and enjoying your puzzle game.

However, as the story flows, as a player of this game you have to keep on searching for every single pieces of puzzle which are scattered around in order to make it a one finished work. Unfortunately, Dewi had made too many puzzle pieces and she had scattered them too far that makes the readers rather confused to collect them all along and to arrange them correctly. For instance, the pieces she made about the family ties and the long-winded description about minor characters who rather irrelevant and unimportant to the main picture of the novel. It seems like she has made too many unnecessary pieces, describing about unimportant details and forget her duty to emphasis the most important picture she wants the readers to see within the puzzle game she made. As a result of this, the pulse and excitement as well as the curiosity the readers had already have at the beginning of the game will beginning to decrease as they are forced to collect every single pieces, some of them are really confusing, in order to finish the game.

This is quite risky, however, if Dewi had wanted to create a puzzle full of mysterious journey, she ought to make it more intense. Even if she decided to make a huge number of puzzle pieces, each piece should contribute to shocking, relevant and important details of the picture so the readers would keep on searching for other pieces because each piece will attach them deeper and deeper to the game and deepening the excitement. By creating too many unnecessary and monotone details, not only is Dewi retarding the process of finding the puzzle pieces, but also forcing the readers to develop an extra patient if they want to finish the puzzle game.

Nothings would be matter then if the players of the puzzle game, in this case, the readers, are patient and persevering enough to work on the puzzle until the last pieces and see how it looks like at last. The rewards would be a beautiful picture that might be seen as a unique picture of the melting point and the exoticness between the East and the West. But that would never be happened and the picture would never be seen if the readers get too bored and impatient with the game. Instead of enjoying the beautiful picture, they’ll leave the game immediately.

when frankenstein is combined with an uproar true story

When Frankenstein is Combined with an Uproar True Story

A Review on Peter Carey’s My Life As A Fake

If you are a writer, or a director, or a comic strip artist, or whoever person involves in a process of making an imagery character to live up the story you’re making, have you ever thought, or imagined, that somewhere, somehow, your imagery character is happened to be a true and a real authentic person, living up his or her life on her daily ordinary life which is precisely the same as the one you’ve designed through your story?

Knowing the sudden fact that your inventions had somehow became reality would probably makes your minds fill up with enough eeriness and strange sensations. Now, let’s imagine that your supposedly-imagery character then turns out to be your stalker, one that haunt you with lots of questions and follows you wherever you go, unquestionably it will freak you out!

Those dreadful premises probably were the one trigger Peter Carey to write this book. Having the Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein note on his first page, Carey underlines the fear of creating a real monster through your imagination that will someday then pursuit and ruin your life, in which he splendidly describe and transform to this appealing novel.

Actually, Carey did more than just describing the fear inspired by Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. He combined it with an uproar true-story based incident happened in Australia in 1944, where an imagery poet was invented by some other poets to trick or to make fool one editor of a magazine called ‘Angry Penguins’. The imagery poet was named Ern Malley, whose poems was so fascinated the editor of that magazine, named Max Harris, who afterward recalled Malley as someone so brilliant that even at the time when he finally found out that Ern Malley was only a hoax made to humiliate him; he still believed that Malley was somewhere out there, alive and breathing.

In My Life as A Fake, Carey transforms the hoax in the form of fraud character made by Christopher Chubb to treat a lesson to David Weiss, an editor of a poetry magazine, who is envied by Chubb. The hoax character invented by Chubb was named Bob McCorcle, and it’s successfully tricked Weiss whom then publish the hoax and grant the poems made by McCorcle, in this case is Chubb as the inventor. Later on, because Weiss publish that poem, he then fell into an accusation of exposing obscenity and has to be trial in court. Suffer from the humiliation, Weiss was reported killed himself after the court.

Interestingly, and fruitfully unique, Peter Carey dissolve that inspired-from-a-true-story element with the fear of having created a monster inspired by Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. As the story flows, surprisingly Chubb was shocked by the fact that there’s this man, described with disturbing giant figure and big forehead, which came and claimed himself as the real Bob McCorcle. The sudden appearance of the real Bob McCorcle was said to be the real cause of Weiss’ death, and much more than that, he turned out to be a stalker to Chubb’s life and even had ruined his life for fifteen years, as well as being the perpetrator of his daughter’s kidnapping which involved him in a long yet interesting pursuit adventure in the Malay and Indonesian jungle. As a result, Carey had invented an attention-grabbing story full of unusual ideas and interesting descriptions about the Malay-Indonesian culture here and there. He even makes Chubb’s dialogue so singlish that I found it as one other thing that would make this novel is considered favorable.

Another thing unique from this novel is the existence of a character named Sarah Douglass, an editor of London poetry magazine, who acts as a narrator in this story. She tries to writes the story of Chubb and his becoming-real invention, Bob McCorcle. But Sarah is not only functioned as a narrator, she too has her own story which later on revealed as the story flows. In where later on the reader would probably see her life as what is referred by this novel’s title; My Life as A Fake. Whose life as a fake anyway? Well, it could be Chubb’s, McCorcle’s, Sarah’s or even all of them.

With those unique, intense and strong plot which drag the reader’s question even until the last page and the appealing description of Malay and Indonesian culture here and there, this novel is so worth reading. The only flaw contained in this novel is probably the method of no punctuations used by Carey. It might considered unique at first, but as the story flows and becoming more complex, especially at the time when Sarah’s acting as a narrator of a story narrate by Chubb, the punctuationless makes the story rather difficult to understand because the readers are often forced to figure out who’s saying who. However, aside from that, for those of you who seek for good book with touch of unique culture in it, you won’t find any regret reading this book.

Across The Universe... renungan tengah malam ku...

Across The Universe

Words are flowing out like endless rain into a paper cup,
They slither while they pass,
they slip away across the universe

Pools of sorrow, waves of joy are drifting through my opened mind,
Possessing and caressing me.
Jai guru de va om

Nothing's gonna change my world,
Nothing's gonna change my world.
Nothing's gonna change my world.
Nothing's gonna change my world.

Images of broken light which dance before me like a million eyes,
That call me on and on across the universe,
Thoughts meander like a restless wind inside a letter box they
Tumble blindly as they make their way
Across the universe
Jai guru de va om

Nothing's gonna change my world,
Nothing's gonna change my world.
Nothing's gonna change my world.
Nothing's gonna change my world.

Sounds of laughter shades of earth are ringing
Through my open ears inciting and inviting me
Limitless undying love which shines around me like a
Million suns, it calls me on and on
Across the universe
Jai guru de va om

Nothing's gonna change my world,
Nothing's gonna change my world.
Nothing's gonna change my world.
Nothing's gonna change my world.

Jai guru de va,
jai guru de va
Jai guru de va,
jai guru de va
Jai guru de va.
Jai guru de va, jai guru de va.

senangnyaaaaa

senangnya senangnya senangnya....
kemarin, minggu 24 Oktober tu hari yang ber sejaraaaaaaahhh banget buat sisi... lalalalalaa... gw udah norak seharian dan hari ini gw mau norak lagi di blog gw...
cerpen gw dimuat di koran Tempo! hehehehe... seneng deh, soalnya sama sekali ga nyangka sama sekali ga ngarepin... emang sesuatu yang datang diluar ekspektasi itu efeknya berasa banget yaa...

dubidubiduuu...
cerpen itu buat papa yang ga henti2nya encourage sisi dari sisi masih keciiiill banget
buat mama yang bikin kangen

dan buat erlan yang hari minggu itu ngebangunin sisi sambil membentangkan koran yang berisi cerpen sisi sambil tersenyum lebar...
luv u muffin...
wouldnt be able to make it without you...

ketika seratustujuhpuluh kelinci berlompatan dari kepalamu hari ini

Ketika Seratustujuhpuluh Kelinci Berlompatan dari Kepalamu Hari ini

Risyiana Muthia

Seratustujuhpuluh kelinci berlompatan dari kepalamu hari ini. Ada yang berwarna putih, hijau, coklat, ungu, abu-abu, transparan... wah banyak sekali. Aku tidak sempat mengamati satu-persatu karena mereka berlompatan dengan sangat cepat dan segera menghilang begitu menyentuh lantai kayu di auditorium gedung B yang dinginnya menusuk tulang.
Tapi meskipun kejadian berlompatannya kelinci-kelinci beraneka warna itu berlangsung hanya sekejap, dari sini jelas sekali terlihatnya. Aku bahkan bisa melihat kelinci terakhir, kelinci keseratustujuhpuluh – aku tahu mereka berjumlah segitu karena kelinci-kelinci itu memakai nomor punggung seperti pelari-pelari olimpiade – menggoyangkan buntutnya sebelum terjun deras ke lantai.
Dan kamu, oh kamu, seperti biasa tidak pernah tahu apa-apa. Kamu tidak pernah tahu. Dulu sekali, waktu ada burung dodo berlarian mengitari kakimu, kamu hanya diam, tanpa ekspresi. Sedangkan aku, nyaris beku karena kaget. Lalu dua hari lalu, waktu tigapuluhlima beruang madu berukuran mini menarik-narik bagian belakang kaos Mook kesayanganmu, kamu tak bergeming. Lalu hari ini, ketika seratustujuhpuluh kelinci warna-warni berlompatan dan terjun bebas dari kepalamu, kamu tidak bergerak sedikitpun! Sungguh mengherankan. Matamu terus saja menatap nanar kedepan, tak jelas menatap atau memikirkan apa. Aku tahu pikiranmu sedang tidak berada disini, entah jauh dimana, pikiran siapapun tidak akan berada disini pada saat ini, di dalam ruangan yang dingin ini dengan dosen serta pelajaran yang begitu membosankan dan membuat siapa saja menjadi gila. Semua orang diruangan ini pasti sedang memasang sayap pada gumpalan pikiran mereka, atau mengecek mesin, mengisi bahan bakar, dan membiarkan gumpalan pikiran itu lepas landas terbang dan melayang-layang hingga akhirnya meletup dan menaburkan serbuknya pada satu titik tema dalam kehidupan.
Untukku, satu titik tema kehidupan itu adalah kamu. Gumpalan pikiran milikku selalu meletup dan menaburkan serbuknya tepat diatas kepalamu. Semakin kupikirkan rasanya semakin kutemukan korelasi antara binatang-binatang aneh yang sering terlihat mengitarimu itu dengan serbuk yang berjatuhan dari letupan pikiranku. Setiap kali gumpalan pikiran itu meletup, binatang-binatang itu selalu muncul, mengagetkanku, tapi tidak dirimu. Sampai sekarang, belum pernah rasanya ada binatang yang begitu anehnya sampai mengagetkanmu dan membuatmu menoleh, atau setidaknya berhenti sejenak dari usahamu untuk menerbangkan gumpalan pikiranmu sendiri.
Aku tidak pernah tahu kemana kamu menerbangkan gumpalan pikiranmu. Atau mungkin aku tidak mau tahu. Yang jelas, belum pernah ada kelinci yang tiba-tiba melompat dari balik rokku, atau berang-berang yang menarik-narik kaus kakiku. Jadi yah, begitulah.
Ah, coba lihat. Ada yang menyembul dari belakang kursi tempat kamu duduk. Ya ampun, itu kan kecoa Madagaskar, besar sekali! Sayapnya bergerak-gerak dan bergesek menimbulkan bunyi desis yang mengerikan dan membuat bulu kuduk berdiri. Ah bukan cuma satu, ada dua, tiga, empat, ada lima kecoa Madagaskar yang sedang merayap dibelakang kursi tempat kamu duduk! Ini menggila, aku merinding sekali. Mereka sedang merayap kearah bahumu. Tidakkah kamu takut? Ayo cepat menoleh, masa tidak sadar juga? Kamu harus sadar sekarang atau kecoa-kecoa itu akan segera merayapi lenganmu!
Kamu menoleh sedikit, akhirnya, dan kecoa-kecoa itu meletup dengan bunyi ‘pop!’ pelan meninggalkan asap berwarna putih dibekas tempat mereka meletup. Dan kamu, seperti tidak sadar akan apa yang sedang terjadi, kamu berpaling lagi, mungkin kembali sibuk menerbangkan gumpalan pikiranmu.
Bel yang menjerit segera membuat gumpalan pikiran yang sedang meletup-letup diatas kepalamu terhisap dengan cepat kembali kedalam kepalaku. Lalu aku menemukan diriku berada disini, diruangan yang dingin ini, berisi enampuluhdelapan mahasiswa yang sedang berusaha menangkap kembali gumpalan pikiran mereka masing-masing yang berterbangan dimana-mana. Beberapa begitu susah ditangkap sehingga harus dikejar-kejar. Gumpalan pikiranku sendiri cepat sekali kembali, memaksaku membereskan buku-buku dan file yang sejak tadi tertumpuk tanpa guna diatas meja.
Seperti tidak pernah sadar akan apapun, tiba-tiba kamu melintas disamping kursi tempat aku duduk. Tanpa menoleh, tanpa bertanya apapun tentang binatang-binatang yang sedari tadi berkeliaran didekatmu. Tidakkah kamu tahu bahwa aku satu-satunya orang yang tahu dan mengerti apa yang terjadi pada dirimu? Tidakkah kamu ingin tahu, mengapa binatang-binatang itu selalu ada?
Aku berjalan, pelan dibelakangmu, dipisahkan oleh tigabelas mahasiswa yang berbaris ribut didepanku mengantre untuk keluar lewat pintu yang hanya satu untuk ruangan sebesar ini. Dan kamu, didepan sana, sudah hampir mencapai pintu. Kamu begitu tenang, begitu sunyi, seperti mengambang. Padahal aku tahu, dalam hitungan detik saja sebentar lagi binatang-binatang itu akan bermunculan lagi.
Dan benar saja, tepat ketika aku mencapai pintu, aku melihatmu bersandar dipojokan koridor, mengambil sesuatu didalam tasmu. Kamu mengambil sebotol air mineral, begitu segar, begitu jernih. Kamu hendak meminumnya. Oh tidak, tidakkah kamu lihat apa yang ada di dasar botol itu? Cacing, cacing, begitu banyak cacing, begitu tipis, hitam dan berlendir, lengket, lembek. Beberapa mulai mengambang kepermukaan. Jangan masukkan cacing itu kedalam tenggorokanmu! Jangan! Jangan! Tidakkah kamu melihatnya?
Botol minum itu terhempas, airnya bercipratan kemana-mana dan menggenangi lantai. Cacing-cacing itu beringsut keluar dari bibir botol, begitu pelan, begitu liat, begitu menjijikkan. Slow motion. Lalu air mulai mengalir pelan terbawa oleh miringnya lantai, ke kiri, ke kanan, kemana-mana. Cacing-cacing juga mengalir. Kekiri, kekanan, kemana-mana, lalu mencair bersama air.
“Apa-apaan sih? Kamu ngapain?”
“Air itu... dan cacing...”
“Cacing? Cacing apaan? Have you lost your mind?”
Tidak. Tentu tidak. Aku menyelamatkanmu dari cacing-cacing itu, dari cacing-cacing yang hendak mengalir ke tenggorokanmu. Aku menyelamatkanmu. Tidakkah kamu sadar?
Lalu mata itu. Matamu. Menatapku. Tajam, begitu tajam, namun penuh tanda tanya. Kamu bingung? Kamu pasti bingung. Kamu pasti tidak melihat cacing-cacing itu. Seandainya kamu tahu, kamu pasti berterima kasih padaku, lalu aku bisa dengan leluasa bercerita padamu tentang binatang-binatang yang selalu mengelilingimu, sekaligus memperingatkanmu akan binatang-binatang mengerikan yang sesekali muncul.
Lalu mata itu. Mata. Bukan hanya sepasang. Tapi berpasang-pasang. Berpasang-pasang mata menatapku saat ini. Begitu banyak. Begitu ramai. Ada yang menatapku dengan heran, dengan geli, dengan kasihan, dengan mencemooh. Begitu banyak. Begitu banyak mata. Menatapku. Menelanjangiku.
Ah mereka tidak mengerti. Mereka semua tidak mengerti. Beberapa mulai berbisik-bisik, menunjuk-nunjuk kearahku dan genangan air itu. Tidak sopan! Hentikan! Kalian semua cuma tidak mengerti!
Aku tidak suka ditelanjangi. Maka itu aku berlari. Aku berlari seperti lalat yang melintasi taman, seperti belalang yang melompati padang, seperti... lari. Aku berlari terus melewati berpasang-pasang mata yang terus berusaha menelanjangiku. Mereka melucuti pakaianku, mereka merampasnya. Aku lari. Aku harus terus berlari.
Aku tidak suka telanjang. Aku tidak suka berpasang-pasang mata mengamati bagian-bagian tubuhku. Mengukur dan membandingkan ukuran payudaraku, menghitung setiap gumpal selulit, menatap tajam pada setiap bekas luka gigitan nyamuk, mengamati kemaluanku. Aku tidak suka telanjang. Maka satu-satunya tempat yang aman untuk ketelanjanganku adalah disini. Di tempat ini.
Di tempat ini semua orang berhak telanjang, tanpa malu, tanpa rasa takut. Maka aku berdiam disini, di bilik toilet paling ujung di dalam toilet perempuan di gedung H, gedung paling ujung di kampus ini. Aku meringkuk diatas kloset yang tertutup, menatap setiap inci ketelanjanganku tanpa rasa malu. Aku akan terus disini, menunggu pakaianku terbang kedalam toilet ini, sehingga aku bisa keluar tanpa telanjang, tanpa rasa takut itu.
Aku menunggu, dan terus menunggu. Gumpalan pikiranku mulai merayap pelan keluar dari kepalaku. Dia hendak terbang. Aku ingin mencegahnya, karena aku tahu kemana dia hendak terbang, meletup dan menjatuhkan serbuk. Aku juga tahu bahwa binatang-binatang itu akan segera muncul lagi disekitarmu. Aku tidak ingin itu terjadi karena aku sedang tidak bisa menjagamu sekarang.
“Nggak bisa dipercaya. Gue nggak percaya ada aja yang begitu.”
“Maksud lo?”
“Ya begitulah. Nggak tau dimana urat malunya. Emang sih dari kemarin-kemarin dia udah sering begitu. Maksud gue, sengaja mondar-mandir didepan Dimas, ya masih bisa lah diterima. Tapi, kalo mondar-mandirnya bener-bener mondar-mandir... maksud gue bolak-balik tanpa jelas tujuannya, itu kan aneh. Gila malah menurut gue. Anak itu bolak-balik tiap setengah menit, di depan Dimas! Padahal nggak ada apa-apaan. Dan tiap dia bolak-balik tu matanya bener-bener menatap Dimas! Gila!”
“Yah, namanya juga cari perhatian. Tapi kayaknya anak itu emang beneran aneh. Gue kan selalu sekelas sama dia di kelas Komposisi Bahasa, barengan Dimas juga. Anak itu, selalu duduk dua bangku di belakang Dimas, dan yang lebih aneh lagi, selama hampir dua jam di dalam kelas, matanya nggak pernah lepas dari Dimas. Gue tau soalnya gue sering curi-curi pandang ke arah dia. Belum pernah sekalipun gue mergokin dia nggak sedang menatap Dimas, matanya pasti selalu ke Dimas.”
“Lebih nyeremin lagi karena anak itu emang beneran misterius ya? Maksud gue, kita nggak pernah bener-bener tau dia karena dia emang jarang banget ngomong sama kita-kita. Dia kan selalu sendirian gitu ya? Dulu sebelum sering sekelas sama Dimas, gue aja nggak nyadar kalo anak itu ada!”
“Tapi sekarang kita semua nyadar... hahaha...”
“Yah... begitulah... lucunya lagi Dimas sendiri nggak pernah bener-bener nanggepin segala kelakuan anak itu. Ya kan?”
“Hahahaha... iya! Dan tadi tu emang bener-bener heboh! Saking frustasinya dia nyoba narik perhatian Dimas, bisa-bisanya dia sampai ngebanting botol minumnya Dimas! Gila! Hahahaha... nggak ada cara lain ya buat narik perhatian? Dandan kek, gimana bisa diperhatiin kalo tampang aja kayak orang sakit begitu. Hahahahaha...”
“Bloon... hahahahahaha...”
Salah. Semua salah. Mereka semua cuma tidak mengerti. Aku hanya mencoba menyelamatkan dia dari cacing-cacing itu. Aku hanya memperhatikannya karena binatang-binatang aneh selalu mengelilingi dirinya. Aku hanya ingin memberitahu dia, memperingatkan dia, bicara padanya...

-Depok, 23 Juni 2004-

at the night when i shut myself

at the night when i shut myself (black ode for thinker-bell)

the cause of this brain
catastrophe
the seizer of my mind
overflowed
with prodigious amounts of thoughts
in myriad forms
and shapes and contours and lines and moulds
so uncontrollable
turbulently on tenterhooks

thinker-bell,
last night
i shut myself
try to hush the calamity
inside
there in silence
i drew a map of my brain
only to discover that

you were attached
to every single speckle
of my contemplation

-----sisie-----
Wed, Oct 13-04
-1750-

..............................................

the lost community

Lagi-lagi diluar sedang nggak hujan, tapi gw ingin sekali menulis ini. Tentang komunitas yang tersesat. Seperti judulnya yang mungkin menyesatkan, gw nggak sedang bicara tentang sekelompok backpacker yang lenyap di hutan belantara di Rio Cariyacu, Peru, juga nggak sedang membicarakan sekte-sekte yang dianggap beraliran sesat, apalagi membicarakan sekelompok anak muda yang memilih jalan yang sesat di Jakarta yang panas ini! (hahaha... apaan sih lo sie... )

Anyway, komunitas yang sedang gw bicarakan ini adanya dekat sekali disini. Dekat sekali, di kampus gw sendiri.

Seperti yang mungkin sudah diketahui secara umum, setiap tahunnya UI selalu menambah jumlah kuota mahasiswa. Hal ini sudah membuat gerah banyak orang baik dari kalangan mahasiswa sendiri sampai ke kalangan umum di luar UI, dan rasanya sudah terlalu banyak dibicarakan sehingga nggak perlu gw singgung-singgung lagi di tulisan ini. Gw sendiri termasuk orang yang gerah dengan kebijakan ini. Gw nggak tau apa alasan lain dari kebijakan penambahan kuota ini selain dari alasan yang sangat praktis yaitu materi!

Oh ok, mungkin ada yang akan berargumen mengenai perluasan kesempatan bagi masyarakat untuk mendapat fasilitas pendidikan yang berkualitas dan layak. Jadi, konon, dengan menambah kuota mahasiswa yang diterima setiap tahunnya, UI bertindak bijak dengan menyediakan kesempatan yang lebih luas bagi calon mahasiswa yang ingin menikmati pendidikan yang bermutu dan fasilitas yang baik, apalagi tahun ini kuota bertambah hampir dua kali lipat jumlah kursi mahasiswa baru tahun kemarin. Bayangkan saja luasnya kesempatan yang ditawarkan.

Hmmm... menarik. Menurut gw alasan tersebut sangat logis dan bisa gw terima. Tapi gw nggak akan membuat tulisan ini kalau nggak ada sesuatu yang salah dengan alasan tersebut.

Oke, gw ambil contoh aja kejadian hari ini. Hari ini gw terpaksa harus berlari-lari ke perpustakaan tepat setelah bel tanda pelajaran berakhir berbunyi. Kelas gw adanya di lantai dua, dan gw tentunya harus menuruni tangga untuk bisa keluar dari gedung itu. Siapapun yang pernah ke Fakultas Ilmu Budaya, UI, pasti tau gimana serunya berjalan di tangga gedung-gedung di FIB. Tangga yang begitu minimalis, ramping dan hemat tempat, lebarnya hanya cukup untuk dilalui oleh dua orang saja, itupun harus ekstra hati-hati agar tidak saling bertabrakan.
Serunya tangga di FIB gw alami betul2 hari ini. Tepat ketika bel berdering dan gw bergegas keluar dari pintu kelas, yang pertama kali gw lihat adalah lautan manusia. Begitu banyak orang dari berbagai arah. Ada yang ingin ke kiri, ke kanan, masuk kelas, ke luar kelas, mencari kamar mandi, naik tangga, turun tangga, dari segala penjuru! Seru sekali memang, apalagi gw benar-benar harus bergegas untuk pergi ke perpustakaan. Entah berapa manusia yang gw tabrak saat gw mencoba berlari-lari kecil untuk keluar dari gedung itu. Dan semuanya tentunya menjadi semakin seru ketika gw berusaha untuk menuruni tangga. Disaat gw hendak berusaha turun, gw terpaksa harus berhenti sesaat karena tangga dipenuhi dengan antrian orang yang hendak turun serta naik pada saat yang bersamaan. Sungguh membingungkan, dan makan waktu! Memang tidak terlalu lama, tapi gw sungguh nggak habis pikir kenapa untuk turun tangga saja harus mengeluarkan usaha sesusah itu.

Pertanyaan selanjutnya adalah, kenapa sih gw harus terburu-buru keluar dari gedung itu? Toh kalau gw santai-santai saja tentu efeknya tidak akan sedramatis itu dan tidak akan banyak orang yang gw tabrak siang tadi. Jawabannya adalah karena gw harus segera sampai di perpustakaan! Soalnya gw ingin mengerjakan tugas disana. Harus buru-buru! Kalau tidak...

Kalau tidak gw nggak akan dapat kursi di perpustakaan. Seperti tadi siang. Perpustakaan begitu penuh. Di lantai satu, lantai dua, lantai tiga, semua dipenuhi manusia-manusia yang sibuk mengerjakan urusan mereka masing-masing. Oke, karena perpustakaan penuh, akhirnya gw nggak jadi mengerjakan tugas. Mungkin nanti sajalah, di kostan... gw lebih memilih untuk makan siang aja dulu. Jadilah gw berjalan ke Kansas, kali ini lebih santai.

Apa?? Lo mau ke Kansas pas jam makan siang?? Becanda lo! Kansas pas jam makan siang tu udah nggak kaya kantin. Nggak layak banget, panas, asap dimana-mana, dan begitu banyak orang sampai-sampai untuk berjalan saja harus antri. Jangan tanya soal antrian makanan, kalau sedang beruntung makanan-makanan yang dipesan bisa datang dalam selang waktu sepuluh menit. Kalau nggak beruntung? Silakan berharap, karena pesanan anda akan diselak terus. Diselak, tanpa terelak. (apaan sih lo sie...)
Tapi mana bisa pesan makanan juga lagian, kursi aja nggak ada. Lo sangat beruntung kalau bisa menemukan kursi nganggur di Kansas pas jam makan siang. Cuma satu kata buat Kansas pas jam makan siang... nggak ding... dua kata... f**king crowded!

Akhirnya karena perut gw nggak bisa berkompromi untuk bersabar tanpa diisi, terpaksa gw dan beberapa (baca: banyak) korban lain pada hari itu terpaksa memilih untuk mengungsi. Kantin sasaran ya apa lagi selain Balgebun atau Takor, soalnya emang dua itu yang paling dekat. Tapi...

Tapi ya nggak mungkin lah! Anak-anak FISIP dan Fasilkom aja ngungsinya ke FIB! Pas mereka ngungsi mungkin juga mereka mengalami nasib yang sama seperti yang gw dan beberapa (baca: banyak) korban dari FIB siang tadi. Terus kalau sudah begini, apa yang bisa dilakukan lagi?
Mau ke perpustakaan, penuh. Mau ke warnet untuk nyari tugas, penuh. Mau ke kantin nggak ada tempat. Lalu harus kemana lagi?
Akhirnya yang ada ya itu tadi. Muncul komunitas-komunitas tersesat di UI. Komunitas yang nggak tau harus kemana lagi, karena manusia-manusia di UI sudah overpopulated sehingga komunitas-komunitas tersesat ini nggak kebagian fasilitas!

Kalau UI berargumen, atau katakanlah, membela diri dengan mengatakan bahwa penambahan kuota adalah demi perluasan kesempatan bagi masyarakat untuk memperoleh pendidikan yang berkualitas dan layak, maka komunitas tersesat di UI harusnya tidak ada. Harus segera dilenyapkan. Diekstradisi. Supaya mereka tidak semakin bingung dan menggila karena tersesat.

Lalu gw pun bisa menikmati tongseng ayam di Kansas pada jam makan siang dengan damai...

Fri, Oct 15, 04
----0126----

the sublime philosophy

ok, the sublime...kyny kata itu bakal tinggal lama di dalam kepala gw ha..ha..ha...
setelah berminggu-minggu gw memegang kita suci berjudul The Sublime and Beautiful akhirnya gw bisa juga mengerti esensi dari filosofi si sublime hehehe...well..mungkin nggak mengerti juga sih, lebih tepatnya tersentuh, tergerak, tergoyah...ha ha ha...

no, really...selama berminggu-minggu gw udah menganggap kitab itu sebagai teman tidur sekaligus obat tidur yang setia (soalnya setiap baca maksimal tiga kalimat aja dari buku itu gw langsung... zzzzzzzz ....bobo hehehehe)
sampai akhirnya kemarin gw tersadar kalau hari ini gw harus mempresentasikan kitab maha suci itu. dua kata doang yang terlintas kemarin.

mati gw.

maka mulailah gw memaksakan diri gw lompat kedalamnya. dan menarik banget. really, banyak banget yang gw temui disana.

bahwa pencapaian sebuah satisfaction dan pemerkayaan jiwa tidak melulu bisa di dapat melalui imej-imej indah dan pengalaman batin yang memanjakan indera dan membebaskan imajinasi-imajinasi paling menyenangkan.
ada sesuatu yang jauh lebih dalam daripada itu.
it's the inward satisfaction, through the sublime.
bahwa terror, fear, pain dan astonishment, the state of soul in which all its motions are suspended with some degree of horror, menawarkan sesuatu yang jauh lebih dalam daripada kepuasan yang didapat lewat hal-hal yang indah.

it's something that you can get through your senses, actually. something derives from the nature itself, or actually, from how you see the nature.
just like i've said before, it's an astonishment, where you see something so grandeur, something vast, something infinite, something magnitude and magnificent, something obscure, something so powerful and omnipresent which makes you shrink into the minuteness and nothingness.

itu semua ada di alam, dan menawarkan pengalaman batin yang berjudul si sublime tadi.

pikirkan apa yang kamu rasakan ketika kamu melihat lautan luas yang seolah tidak terbatas, langit maha tinggi yang penuh berjuta bintang yang mustahil kamu hitung, tebing yang curam dan kasar, jurang yang dalam yang tidak bisa kamu perkirakan kedalamannya, hutan yang gelap, penuh dengan pohon-pohon maha besar dengan dedaunan yang lebat.
maka kamu akan merasa sangat kecil, merasa obscure, afraid, when you do not know the full extent of the danger you might experienced, when you experienced a great deal of apprehension that is entirely filled your mind...

trembling...
powerless...

tarik napas dulu ah...
hehehehehehe....

pengalaman emosi seperti itu, disaat kamu bisa melewati fase fear, pain dan surrender to its grandeur, maka kamu sudah mengalami sublime...
dan perasaan sublime ini jauh lebih membekas dan berharga dari pengalaman emosi yang kamu dapat dari sesuatu yang tidak strikingly disturb your security seperti imaji-imaji yang menyenangkan hati...

bisa gila gw lama-lama...
hahahahaha...
tapi ini sangat menyenangkan, membuat gw bisa berpikir dalam-dalam tentang segala sesuatu yang ada di sekitar gw dan nggak melulu menyerah pada pikiran-pikiran indah yang menghangatkan hati.

mungkin malam ini gw akan tidur larut dan melihat bintang

kalau bintangnya ada...

luv you muffin
^_^



..............
could it be possible to be a deep thinker and a pragmatist at the same time?
i dont know
yang gw tau adalah, gw selalu berusaha memikirkan segala hal yang gw temui, tapi di saat yang sama gw sering sekali merasa stuck akan semua itu, lalu men-shut down semua aplikasi yang sedang berjalan di kepala gw, untuk kemudian membiarkan diri gw mengecil dan terus mengecil sampai semua pikiran-pikiran yang sedang berseliweran di kepala gw itu terasa begitu jauh dan berhenti mengusik gw.
i became really pragmatic.
pragmatic towards everything.
numb, if i could say.

ada keinginan yang begitu besar untuk mengerti semuanya, menjelaskan semua hal yang gw rasakan dan gw lihat. tapi disaat gw tidak bisa mencapai titik itu, semuanya menjadi
.........
mati

deep inside of you...

when we met light was shed
thoughts free flow you said
you've got something
deep inside of you

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - muffin i'm drowned

sigh

luv u

sexy thought...

i was thinking of making a poem, a very short one perhaps, to start my blog... but right now my mind is so mixed up, jaded, confused, blah blah blah...gak jelas gitu pokonya...umm...sering sih gw berada di keadaan pikiran yang kaya gini...terutama gara2 kejadian akhir2 ini (he..he...) but it's getting worse and worse and i dunno why...

sekarang aja gw terjebak di dalam warnet sastra, ga ngerti mau ngapain....harusnya baca The Sublime and Beautiful nya Edmund Burke tapi dari kemaren kemaren pembatas buku gw nggak berpindah2 letaknya, tetep di halaman yang itu-ituuuu ajaa...and again...i dunno why...

di luar nggak hujan, tapi banyak banget yang gw pikirin. sialnya lagi pikiran-pikiran itu seperti berjejalan tanpa kompromi di dalam otak gw, saling bertindihan dan berseliweran seenaknya tanpa bisa gw kontrol.
gw nggak ngerti kenapa... kadang-kadang gw pikir semua itu salah gw sendiri, karena dengan kurang kerjaannya membiarkan pikiran-pikiran yang begitu banyak, dan luas, dan memusingkan itu bisa menyelip masuk ke dalam otak gw.
gw kan nggak harus mikirin semuanya!

mungkin akan menyenangkan kalau gw bisa figure out way how to membuat segala rupa pikiran-pikiran yang menggila itu lebih masuk akal, praktis dan terorganisir...but then again, gw emang harus banyak belajar lagi...

so i dedicate this first writing untuk seseorang yang menjadi salah satu dari sekian banyak pikiran-pikiran membingungkan yang mengisi kepala gw akhir-akhir ini. satu titik kecil yang melompat masuk kedalam pikiran gw,tinggal disana dan seperti virus, menulari titik-titik lain yang ada di dalam pikiran gw itu, menyebar dengan cepat dan menciptakan bermacam-macam titik-titik pikiran baru hahaha....

kamu membingungkan
bukan
..........
aku yang membingungkan