Pikebubbles *

I just realized a funny thing. For the past 48 days alone, I hade unconsciously used the phrase ‘ah… he really looks like my dad’ or ‘he reminds me of my dad’ for at least three times, addressed to at least three different men. First, it was Popo, when he kindly drove me home and refused to let me pay for his gas after I got ripped off by that dumb and irresponsible bandit - quoting the term used by the Russian government to refer the Chechen terrorists - on that bloody Friday afternoon. Second, it was the ‘dad’ from an oldskool Japanese quiz show in television who was struggling to pile up three hundred coins of 10 yen in less than seven minutes in order to win prizes for his family, he had five children, all of them are under 10, and an unadorned beautiful wife, the ‘dad’ was given five days to practice making the coins tower in his own house before had had to do it live in the studio. He practiced and practiced and practiced, and the coins tower was always fell, fell, and fell. In that five days of practice, out of… maybe more than 100 attempts of piling up the coins, he succeeded only three times, because his house was so small and he had so many children, small children who could not stop running and bouncing around while keep on screaming and yelling all the time. Every time the coins tower was beginning to stand high, the smallest child came and sat curiously next to the ‘dad’, unfortunately, he was always making too much moves which of course made the table in which the ‘dad’ pile up those coins shook and the tower fell once again. However, although knowing that he really should make it right if he really wanted to win the prizes for his family, not a single time the ‘dad’ was caught making even an annoyed face when his children disturbing his concentration over and over again, he always gave the same patient smile, never once got snap even though his coins tower always fell and fell. When the day of the show really came, they invited the whole family to watch him making the coins tower, but this time… no more practice, it’s the final, once he failed and the tower fell, there would not be any second chance, and those prizes for his family would be gone forever. And everything went so tense at that time, minute after minute, coins after coins, the camera rolled and the viewer could even see how his children closed their eyes and prayed for him, one of them even got too anxious and worried, he got burst in tears. But finally, in the minute six and fifty seconds, their dad succeeded in making the coins tower. He was a hero for them at that moment.
Then the third man reminded me of my dad was the character of Victor Navorsky in The Terminal, played by Tom Hanks. Navorsky was the stranded immigrant from Krakhozia, who was compelled by the power-syndrome-evil immigration officer to stay at the airport while waiting for permission from the USA government to grant his visa and passport and allow him to enter the USA in order to complete his mission. This however, would remain nearly impossible, because at the very same time of his landing, it precisely coincided the point of time where the war had struck in his country, which had caused his nation of origin to no longer exist, making him a man without a country, who did not have any valid identity that might be acknowledged by the states. So he was stuck at the airport and had no other choice but to make his life went on. But Navorsky did not complain, he was not even angered. He did not face his oppressor with fist and fury but he chose to try to make the best out of his bounded life instead. He found every simple joy of life that would somehow make him smile and make other people smile, and that’s how he swept the board.

I miss my dad, and maybe that’s why those three persons remind me of my dad so much. They definitely do not share any similarity in terms of physical, but they do share things in common; they are all the kind of person who doesn’t use rage and anger as their weapon.
It’s very rare to see my dad pull an angry face, he’s the kind of person who instead of chosing to use his energy to lower the car window to shout angrily and give a finger to those sickly annoying motorcycles or metrominis that always overtake his road, his energy is used to lower the car window to give a smile and a thumb up for all those people who kindly let him pass his way. He’s the kind of person who faces his client’s exasperating complaints with a patient smile while listening to all their needs. He ceases anger with smile and, most of the time, it does work.

I remember one day when we’re driving, there’s a car that pass his way so sudden it almost hit our car. My dad had to brake hard to avoid the car. He was a bit pissed, I know, but he did not crack up, he let the car passed through his way while taking a deep breath. I was the one who got a bit angry that time and could not stop protesting his weak respond. My dad only smiled and said, ‘Sisie, it’s not a weak respond, think of it as an act of kindness, as a good deed, probably the driver of that car really had to do that because his wife is about to give birth and therefore he needed to be in a very rush, or maybe his daughter is dying and he really needed to be there on the side of his daughter or… whatever. I mean… we never really know, don’t we? Had we chosen to unleash the rage, it would only make things worse for him. Besides, it did not do us too much of a harm if we chose to yield a bit, instead, it might help other people. And believe me, any act of kindness always come round again, it’ll always be returned. Every time I do my act of kindness I always remember my family and I always remember you, If I do kindness to other people, I know that other people will also be kind to my daughter.’

I was touched knowing that he really do care about me so much, but I had to admit that I never really believed on such thing. I mean, what kind of logical explanation could explain the possibility of my dad’s act of kindness, no matter how kind and touching it might be, would be straightly returned to his daughter? None, I believe.

However, at the very same day, I had to go back to Jakarta. Everyone who knew me really well of course how bad my spatial sense is, so at that time, after my third visit to Gambir, I still got lost. But fortunately, everyone there had been so nice and helpful I managed to find the right gate and took the right train to Depok. Of course I still thought that it had nothing to do with ‘the act of kindness’ philosophy my dad told me, not until I finally got to the train. The train was a bit crowded, so I had to stand. It was a bit difficult because my backpack was a bit heavy and I carried two small paper bags on both of my hands, so practically I could not be able to take a grip on anything to keep me steady. And it was a bit annoying too, because there, right in front of me, there was a young man who was pretending to sleep, so that he would not have any obligation to give his seat for me. I mean, not that I was expecting for him to give his seat or anything, but his faking was so obvious it really nauseated me. But suddenly there was a pat on my hand, I looked and there was an old woman with worn-out clothes and a shabby look, sat right next to that young man, she was smiling and said ‘Mbak, turun dimana? Kasihan… sepertinya bawaannya berat sekali… mari saya pegangin bawaannya, mbak. Saya masih jauh turunnya, di stasiun Bogor.’

I was touched. Well… maybe it was because I looked so pitiful at that time, or could be… because my dad’s right.

And I think I envy my mum, she’s a darn lucky woman.


-sie-

*A title of a song about dad sung by the Cardigans in the Emmerdale album.

Meaningless Mumble

This is sickening... i just had a chat with some guy who tagged me at YM who said that Punk is the root of all evil, came from antichrist movement who was eventually became the root of all moral degradation or whatsoever including free sex, the anarchy movement, even nudism!
-sigh- hopeless... and he implicitly said that i knew nothing about that so just shut up and listen...

kalo orang2 kaya gini semua, enlightment apaan juga yang bisa ngebantu ya.. :(

anyway, better go home now i guess, males juga ngebahas yang kaya gini, i have a final test tomorrow so i guess i'll better burn and torture myself with that shocking pink semantics book, plus... there are two topics that i'm in the process of writing now for my blog, i guess i have to finish those two so that i can post it here.

*masih pusing kepala*
-sie-

oh iya... a flash info... me and hany had a big upcoming project, tapi masih raw banget
check this out and tell me what u think (jadi ceritanya gw mo menjual seseorang...engg... sesuatu... atau apapun itu lah..)

Rino the Rhino
Adult entertainment all in one package
He can dance, he can sing.. and he's a one way ticket to pleasure island.

Gimana? kira2 kalo gw pake tag begitu dah cukup menjual belum ya?
atau ada ide lain?
hmm.. desperately needs money... -_-'

Je Cherche Un Homme

Je cherche un homme, un homme, un homme
Un Pierre, ou Paul, un Jacques, ou Tom
Mais n'importe comment il se nomme
S'il est un homme, homme, homme

Je n'exige pas un ???
Qui s' ??? dans les salons
Ni un type fort comme un Samson
Pourvu que j'ai un «mate » un ???

Il n'a pas besoin d'être un milliardaire
Qu'il soit beau, non ça m'est égale
Il n'a pas besoin d'être un grand lumièrestar du cinéma, ni prince royal

Je cherche un homme, un homme, un homme
Qu'il s'appelle Pierre, ou Paul, ou Tom
Pourvu qu'il donne son maximum

Je cherche un homme, un homme, un homme
Doesn't have to be prince or movie-star
A Texas oilman, or a French marquis
Doesn't have to be handsome as a picture
An ordinary guy is allright with me

Je cherche un hommme, un homme, un homme
Qu'il s'appelle Pierre, ou Paul, ou Tom
Pourvu qu'il donne son maximum

Je cherche un homme, un homme, un homme
Je cherche un homme, un homme, un homme

*Eartha Kitt*

tidak tidak... saya tidak mengerti bahasa Perancis... tapi lagu ini menyenangkan sekali :)
setelah kemarin menonton To Wong Foo, thanks for everything, yang sangat hillarious itu, saya jadi ingat lagu ini lagi... :) ahahaha... padahal waktu dulu jaman2nya kerja di ak'sa ra denger lagu ini bisa sampai empat-lima kali dalam satu shift... hahahaha... ah senangnya.. ada yang punya MP3 atau CD nya lagu ini nggak? mau dong...

Gelangputih buat mutihin kulit...

Sekarang bergaya 'bling-bling' tu lagi keren ya? Yah well... nggak tau dan terserah juga sih. Gw nggak gitu peduli... kalo gw ngerasa berhak make baju apa aja yang gw suka ya berarti orang lain juga lah. Saya sih senang2 saja lah, kadang2 menyenangkan juga jalan2 ke mal dan ngeliat bermacam2 AGJ yang berlomba2 dandan paling 'bling-bling' dengan celana hipster gede banget n anting2 kinclong nan gede... dengan kulit yang makin lama makin tan aja... mungkin disekolahnya mereka sengaja ngisengin guru supaya dapet alesan dijemur di lapangan upacara biar kulitnya jadi makin coklat ala artis2 hip hop n r 'n b luar negeri...
Tapi ada yang sedikit ngeganggu... salah satu temen gw kebetulan bergaya kaya gitu juga. No offense ya man, beneran gw ga keberatan kok sama fashion statement lo... cuma mau ngebenerin dikit aja. Inget gak waktu gw tanya kenapa lo pake gelang putih di tangan kanan lo? Trus lo ngeliat gw dengan tatapan aneh seolah pengen bilang 'ini sisie knapaaa lagi nanya pertanyaan ga penting kaya gitu... ya suka2 gw lah mau pake apaan...' trus sambil ketawa kecil lo jawab asal2an... 'Ga pa pa... putih... biar bisa mutihin kulit. Lagian emang kenapa sih?'
Trus gw cuma senyum kecil aja.
Sebenernya lo pake gelang putih bukan buat mutihin kulit kok, apalagi buat gaya2an... tapi karena ini .

Umm... tapi nggak juga kali ya... mungkin gelang putih yang lo pake emang bukan buat yang ada di link diatas.. tapi murni buat mutihin kulit... bener nggak?

-sisie-

A spell of ranting...

Alright, so it’s all started here… I hate it, really hate it when I see people’s eyes judging me and telling me how much I’m becoming just like you. It felt like I’m nothing but your shadow, cannot think, cannot do anything without you, and based everything that I do upon your standards. It really sucks.
At first I didn’t think much about it, I thought it was just in my head. Well, surely everyone who knew me for just two or three years ago or even less would realized how I had changed… well… a bit… recently, and it all started when I decided to be with you. Alright… so I became more fearless and spontaneous I guess, I’m not afraid to try, to do or to state anything that I believe or I want. I’m more outspoken about my thoughts and I don’t feel reluctant to defy anything that I despise. Well, my life became less organize here and there, of course, but surely we cannot expect all to be perfect, right? But not just all that, so they see me as sort of… degrading in terms of their values, their own superficial values imposed upon their mindless doctrinated head expecting everybody to adapt and conform upon it. So they use the term ‘degrading’ because they see me, whom they had always been addressed using the boring adjective of nice, smoked cigarettes, got drunk and stoned celebrating my birthday, using pot every now and then, not blushed when asked whether I am still a virgin or not while easily said no, and spared some public displays of affections. And really, I don’t pretty much give shites about the term they use to address me, I mean… who cares about their superficial standards and values, which they themselves do not particularly aware and care to know why they had chosen to adapt and conform to those values. Compare to those mindless doctrinated bunnies, I am bloody proud to be called ‘degrading’ upon their standards and values, well at least I know that I do not walk hand in hand, and placed in the running counter with them. But, so here’s the bloody but, but ladies and gentlemen, what bothers me is because they address all those sort of changes of mine, sort of degrading whatsoever their terms might use happened to me, are all in a manner conforming with you! Are all because of you.
Well, I cannot say that it’s totally wrong, though. I mean… it’s true that you had always encouraged me to be not afraid to say the hell everything I want to say, the hell everything in my thought and in my mind, to resist everything that I found despising, to be not worried in being whatever I want to be, in standing for what I believe, as well as learning to stop listening to those people who had always tried to make be something they want me to be. You always smiled at me and made me feel that I don’t have to be anyone else when I can be my own self and always be accepted. Now, I can say that those things that had changed me, from the ‘sisie’ with the boring adjective of nice to the ‘sisie’ they would pleasantly dislike and whom they’ve always talked behind her back. I am not afraid to come out of my shell and say that religion, for instance, is nothing but stupidity unless you’re not afraid to drag yourself out of the doctrines and dogmas and not feeling hesitant to seek for the true meaning out of it, if there’s any, of course, and how I believe that the term ‘free’ sex needs to be redefined, and so on and so forth. And yes, it does really bother me, that those people, those annoying empty-headed bunnies see all the thoughts that came out of my head, all the things that I did, weren’t my actual self, were nothing except another doctrines you gave me in order to cut my shape so that I could fit in with yours. It’s sort of annoying, because to me, the process to come out of the shell took a really long and painstaking process of thinking and re-thinking, questioned and re-questioning whether it’s the right thing or not. I even let myself be confused on determining the so-called ‘right’ in whatever terms it might be cited. As well as collected all my courage piece by piece and let go my… err… let’s just call it primordial love… in having my freedom to be myself. And now that I found my freedom and myself, they just ignorantly say that it’s not even myself? What do they know about myself?? But really, even though it is annoying, it’s even more bothering because they acted as if they’re trying to save myself and tried so much to make me realize that I do nothing but fooling myself…
So at one particular of time one of my friends told me that there’s this guy, this guy that I used to regard as ‘friend’ as well, told her to tell me that I really should stop playing little sisie miss philosophical with all those so called defiant philosophical thoughts about everything, and that I should just be ‘sisie’. Furthermore he even said that I should find my life back, otherwise I would get lost if then I break up with you, since I wont have anything to hold on to. WTF???? What does he know about myself? Who is he has the right to tell me that I am not myself this way? What kind of ‘my life’ does he think I should find back? It was so annoying, really. I’ve managed to ask him about these things, actually, but I found it was really pointless because he only came up with those circling and feeble reasons while giving me those annoying pity look saying that I really have to save myself before I fell too far.
And not so long after that, while I still felt discontented about it, I realized that even your friends considered me as your resemblance or whatsoever, or the ‘sisie’ who does not have any ‘free will’. Once I remember that I was in a conversation with one of them while you weren’t there. Quiet surprisingly with his so-called capacity of thinking, when I stated my opinion, although coated with those chatty quips, he replied by saying ‘what do you know anyway, dear? I bet all the things you know were from him.’ What the… I thought. So apparently, it seemed that I don’t have any knowledge at all and I am incapable of stating my opinion if you’re not there.
And it went all the way, really. When I talked with one of my friends about the possibility of the truth there in the religions, she implicitly said that I dared to speak that way because you are an atheist and of course I would stand on your side. Hell, really even if you weren’t an atheist, my opinion towards that would remain the same. Even all the simple and trivial things, like my activity now in ISAFIS, where I often go to embassies and stuff, they linked all with you, you, you. They said ‘where you’ve been, sisie?’ and when I said that I just got back from the Russian Center of Culture, they said ‘Really? But why? Ah … of course… with him?’ aarrgghh… it really sucks.
And you know what even more annoying? I’m sick and tired of explaining myself to them. What do I owe to them to explain that I bloody well also read books thus justify all my knowledge, and all their boring adjectives addressed to me were something that I used to laugh at behind their back because bloody hell I wasn’t like what they think of me… and so on and so forth… So let just all those people think whatever they want to think about me, I just don’t care. If they want to think of me as a dumb blonde who’s trying too hard to fit with her smart-ass boyfriend, I don’t give a shit.
Hell… why do I even bother about all these… ahh… probably because of this stupid PMS… hormones, hormones… blame it on the hormones…


-sisie-

Heavenly Blissed

Today i got a quite interesting text to be translated in my TTU (Teori Terjemahan Umum) class... it's about the quest for paradise.
So apparently people, with their own differences in conceptions, point of views and beliefs, come up with different conceptions of heaven as well... it was said that Buddha proferred enlightment, an existence without suffering as heaven. The vikings, on the other hand, always dreamed up Valhalla, a hall of dead heroes battling by day and feasting by night for eternity - hmm... this sounds like the kind of heaven Ruli would die for... I wonder why he hadnt born as a Viking... - Dante in his Divine Comedy described heaven as something that is logically ruled by reasons, the nine spheres of heaven. Meanwhile Jorge Luis Borges, the author of Labyrinths, presumed that heaven is a place like a huge library where you can satisfy your thirst for knowledge.
In general, i think the concept of heaven is actually a place, where you can find your eternal happiness. Now, the tricky thing regarding this issue of course, as a unique human being, we have different concept of happiness, or things that would make you happy, or place you think would make you eternally happy.

So, what is exactly your conception of heaven? your eternal happiness?

ah... the clear water reflects my shadow

i dont understand, every thing every single thing seems to contradict each other
dan kalo biasanya gw suka kesulitan menjelaskan perasaan gw sendiri, kali ini nggak. gw tau gw nggak kesal, gw tau gw nggak sedih, gw tau gw bukannya kecewa, gw tau gw nggak takut...
gw marah
because u refused too explain those things to me
because u thought our arguments were pointless
dan perasaan gw sekarang nggak campur2 aneh seperti biasanya
gw marah dan itu jelas sekali rasanya.

funny, eh?
biasanya gw paling nggak bisa ngedefinisiin apa yang gw rasain.

-sisie-

umm... no komen ah... :p

mwahahahahah...
so because my latest entry is about the religion... i kinda curious about my own stance, so i decided to take this funny quiz... and it turns out that i am...

"WHAT RELIGION BESTS SUITS YOU?"


Agnostic
You've probably studied loads of different religions, but you're just not sure if any of it is true. Evolution makes some sense to you, but it doesn't satisfy you. Lastly, your personality is one of question, but you won't go out of your way to find -The Truth- It's more of a hobby.

taken from: http://www.zenhex.com/quiz.php?id=1257

Licking the God's Boots

What is a religion? This is a very ticklish question. I know that I should think of better things to do, or find a job since I’m particularly on the breadline now (ha-ha), or manage my disorganized schedules, or finish my readings, or whatever aside than thinking about the answer of the question that has been a debate among people for so long, but I’ve decided to muse on it a bit.

Well, I think about so many possible answers for that question, an answer that would make sense in order to complete the puzzle why the word ‘religion’ is indeed one of the most bloody words ever in the history of mankind, so many possible answers came up to my head, so many cause-effect relation possibilities, round and round and round and round, so many that I begun to feel nausea, then I decided that it’s time to stop before bad things started to happen…(well… I have this stupid habit of getting really really nauseatingly cheesy when I’m feeling a bit stressful or frustrated, and when that happened I usually wrote some cheesy poems, or pick-up lines, or ‘pantun’ for Ruli, and really… you don’t wanna know… it’s awfully cheesy you want to kill yourselves when you hear it… so no no… I don’t want that to happen, enough torture for that poor guy, so I decided to pause a bit from my thinking)

But as I let myself to continue to think about it, I found that the fittest piece that would possibly complete the whole puzzle is actually the simplest one, I think religion is a system of belief, or sets of principles, which involves god as the creator and the judge, with groups of society as his worshipper. And there’s exactly where all the problems started.

So here, in religion, god is viewed not only as the creator of the universe, but also as the judge of all the deeds that have done by his worshipper. As the judge, he gives and determines rewards and punishments for the people. Rewards come in the form of heaven, and punishments come in the form of hell. Well… at least that is the concept in Islam, Christian and Jews. In Hinduism I think the concept of reward comes in the form of moshka, the liberation from the chain of birth, death and rebirth while the concept of punishment comes when the soul bond to the karma is born over the condition that is not so pleasant because of the unfaithfulness to the god, or the bad deeds that that person has done in his or her previous life (or maybe I’m wrong… please do correct if I’m wrong…) well, this whole concept of samsara, the cycle of birth, death and rebirth in Hinduism, is controlled by god, therefore here god is also viewed as the judge.
Buddhism is a bit different though, I’ve checked some resources and I found out that in Buddhism there is no actual god. The Buddhists believe that human mistakes and human doom are linked in a relentless chain of cause and effect. So all the bad deeds that you’ve done may cause you a bad fate in your future, pretty logical I guess. Therefore, in order not to have bad fate, you have to do good things in your life (again… of course my understanding and knowledge is sooo… very limited so please do correct me if I’m mistaken about this)
I don’t know much about other religions, like for instance Confucianism, Shinto, Zoroastrianism, or Sikhism, or maybe Neopaganism, or others… (you guys might wanna help me about the infos though…). But from what I see, the religions, which have the most followers, usually believe in god as the creator and the judge, and I think this is where all the problems begun.

That concept, where god is viewed as the creator as well as the judge, makes god as the absolute factor who has the absolute rights to decide whether one particular person would be granted reward or punishment. The reward, of course would be given to one who has been really faithful in following all the principles of the religion, one who has been really obedient and devoted to god. Therefore, in order to attain the reward, those religious worshippers would try to be as faithful and as devoted in worshipping the god and obeying all the principles. This could be a good thing, I guess, because basically and of course, ideally, all religions teach good values and virtuousness. However, it is evident that the more strongly adherents of a particular religion believe in its precepts or principles, the more fiercely do they react to those with different beliefs. –sigh–

So last week, I went to Gramedia. Chicklits and teenlits along with those blissfully happy AGJs were all over the bookstore so I kinda looked around to find a place that wasn’t too crowded. The religion and philosophy section looked quiet enough, so I decided to browse around there. Randomly I went to the Islam section first, and I found that some of the books displayed there were books with title like “Homoseksualitas? Ih… Takut!”, or “Bahaya Darwinisme”, or something like that… I kinda forget the rest of the titles of the book there… I thought… alright, why does these books need to be full of hatred and enmities… I mean… it’s like they see other people’s beliefs with their own personal standards, and impose their standards upon it. When those other believers do not walk hand in hand with the standard that they have, they reject those other beliefs and see them as thread. And why does it so, because these people, these religious people, are so faithfully and strongly believe in their own percepts, their own principles of religion, that they see other beliefs as something that are wrong and inappropriate. And why do they become so faithfully devoted to those principles? Because they see god as the absolute judge who has the absolute right to determine whether they will be given the rewards or the punishments, and as a result of this viewpoint, they want to try to be as faithful as they can so they could have the biggest possibility in attaining the reward that their gods have promised them.
At exactly the same day, when I was still at Gramedia, Ruli called me and told me that some terrorists had bombed London, over 50 innocents people died because of the explosion. When I went home, the news said that not so long after the explosion, there was a report that Al Qaeda officially stated that the bomb was intentionally fired off by them.
And like two days ago, there’s this news that those stupid worthless FPI had destroyed the Ahmadiyah’s site because they think that the Ahmadiyah is ‘sesat’ and dangerous. What despised me more was that because I saw them, with their glorious sorban and gamis and whatever attributes they wear in the name of Islam, looked really proud when they threw stones, destroyed the gates and hurt those Ahmadiyah people…

I think it’s sickening. Well… if god is really the judge, then probably those stupid so-called faithful and religious people are nothing but those little toadies who are trying so hard to lick the god’s boots. That’s if god ever has boots at all. If he does not have one, what’s the point of licking something that does not exist?

-sisie-

shoo... shoo...

about six or seven months ago, remember how i've warned you that i could be such a pain in the ass, how i am really not perfect, how over sensitive i am, how melodramatic, how moody, how weird, how boring and how you would finally see all those and then you'd be sorry and then i'd be sorry and then we'd be hurt because we've decided to fall, how we've decided to take all the risks, how we've decided not to care at all, remember?
and upon all the things that are so hard to be explained i found that it is my feeling that is so hard to be explained and i know that and i know that you cant understand how it could be like that and how i really miss you sometimes and how sometimes i wonder why it seems that there is a wall between us and how i dont understand why do i need to cry at all while i know that u wouldnt be there and u wouldnt understand and how it is too absurd to even be comprehended and how even myself could see that it is absurd and there is no reason for me to feel that way at all...
and do you know that sometimes when u're there right beside me how i want to scream like really loud like so loud really really loud that i do love u so much and i want to hold ur hands and i want u to hold me and i want u to look deeply into my eyes and i want u to know that deep down inside sometimes i wonder what's on ur mind and wanna know what u think about me or do i even exist there or do i make u bored or do u sometimes wish me to disappear...
oh sometimes it is me indeed who wish to disappear.
i'm just a little girl and i want to rest my head upon ur shoulder sometimes and i know that i shouldnt feel hesitant to do so because i know that u're there and u'll let me rest my head upon ur shoulder but really even myself dont understand why sometimes i'm so afraid to do so and if u ask me now why do i feel that way i'll say that i dont know because it's true that i dont know...
i dont have any reason and i know that u'd expect reasons but i dont have one and i know that i cant tell that to u because i cant explain it and it's all because i dont have any reason for this and u'd be pissed and i'd feel bad because i made u feel bad and u know i dont want that because i only want to make u happy and see u smile and it'd be frustrating and i'm so frustrated but i dont have any reasons and i'm not secure and i'm afraid and i dont know why and i'm so afraid.
u're just right there and u're just like the sunshine and u're shining so brightly and u stand so bravely and u're so strong and u just dont need anything or anyone to comfort u and i'm exactly right here sitting alone in the park while its raining and i look at the sky and i feel the rain drizzling upon me and i stay quiet but my toes are freezing and i think that maybe it'll be nice if i have someone who smiles at me and comforts me...
can i just... sleep beside u... without saying anything, just sleep, without explaining anything, just sleep and feel ur soft soft hands caressing my head until i close my eyes and really fall asleep?
can i?
i love u so much but i dont know how to explain all the feelings that i'm feeling inside now.

-sisie-

Bitter Butter

So this is 2005 and I live at the capital city of Indonesia and if I suffer for a chronic insomnia and I don’t have that much money to afford cable in my home I should ungrudgingly find a way to cure my nocturnal compulsion while frustratingly switch off my telly at night because there is no local channel is allowed to broadcast after one a. m.
Yes I live at the capital city of Indonesia and when I’m out clubbing with my friends, or having some drinks at the local nice cozy bar or lounge, or at any restaurant, I definitely should not let myself forget to remind my friends not to get too drunk because all those places are closed at two a. m. and everybody should go home.
The capital city, of Indonesia, and we have hours and hours of long queue to get ‘minyak tanah’ right in the middle of the city, and shortages of gasoline everywhere in the city.
And we have babies suffer for ‘busung lapar’, children suffer for the supposedly extinct poliomyelitis everywhere around the town.
And we live right here, in Jakarta, the capital city of Indonesia. Now can you imagine the even worse conditions in other places, here in our beloved nation?
Oh. Almost forgot.
Our dearly loved ‘wakil rakyat’ have just claimed for another salary increase up to thirty million rupiahs for the members of the fraction and up to sixty million rupiahs for the head. And also they have just proposed a new allocated budget for their ‘study tour’ programs around the world, with the total cost of 32 billion rupiahs.
Nice, isn’t it?

The Oddity about the Park that I Went to Last Night

There’s nothing too odd about the park that I went to last night
There were flowers
And ponds and trees and lamps and park benches
And everything and everything
There’s nothing too odd,
Except the grass
The grass was black
Pitch black, matte black, really dark it drew all the lights, swallowed it up, inside.
Absorbing, draining all the twinkling light, whatever.
And there were crows, all over the grass,
With their raucous voices, gathering around, flocking together in a large large mass,
Chattering, flapping their wings, moving around like hell,
Restless, tense, agitated.

There’s nothing too odd about the park that I went to last night.
Oh yes of course I told you that the grass was black.
But there’s nothing odd about black,
Black is just another color, like red, yellow,
Green, brown, pink, blue, white, purple, orange, whatever.
Oh yah well, did I just say that there were crows too?
Um… well… that’s a bit odd, though…
What the hell were the crows doing there in the park upon the black grass?
Let me sneak a look there then one more time,
Oh
I forgot. Crows and its evil omen.
There was indeed a dead body on the black grass.
But, yah well…
People die everyday
So I guess it’s not that odd either.


-sisie-

Reality Check

So yesterday my loved one said that he was going to close his friendster account soon enough. I asked him why, and he told me that the friendster account is pretty much useless, there’s nothing that he can do there, everything’s just so pointless and hopeless.
For him, friendster, and its bulletin board facility was supposedly a good opportunity to exchange insights, ideas, point of views, or information. He does not own that many friends on his friendster account, only seventy something, but it supposedly means seventy something opportunities of different point of views, or seventy something new windows of information. It turned out, of course, like we all know, the bulletin board is only full of those people filling some very trivia and meaningless quizzes (yes, even me too is included in these kind of people, like you all know, I guess) or some stupid EOs informing about some stupid R ‘n B parties (you know, I don’t mind people informing about some parties of course, but these EOs are really annoying, they could post up to 40 bulletin board at the same time only to inform one or two parties, which of course always causing my bulletin board section become flooded). Meanwhile, when he tried to post something a bit serious, something that should be put a bit in our concerns, like the dying Africa children for instance, or some massive ruin of our countries, or whatever thoughts to be discussed, very few people care to give respond. Since they are only looking for those trivia quizzes, and not some so called ‘yang berat-berat’, as one of my friend said… wont mention her name though. He said that, only very few people care to share their opinions and be the part of the discussions, even fewer people care to forward it so that their own circle of friends would get the bulletin and the thought sharing would be expanded.

It’s true though. Nobody really gives a fuck about those so called ‘yang berat-berat’. When Ruli posted a bulletin board about our ruined country, only Yogi , Lurino and myself, out of seventy something care to forward the bulletin board.
When my friend JJ posted a bulletin board about those AGJs phenomena, also only few people forward the bulletin board (I don’t know how much though, because I don’t really know how many people are there in his circle of friends)
When I posted a bulletin board about chicklits and the massive retardation, again, only very few people out of two hundred something care to forward the bulletin board; Ruli, Lurino and… I don’t remember whether Yogi forward my bulletin board or not.
When Lurino, Yogi, or Agung posted something or two about their thoughts, very few people care to continue the discussion, exchange the thoughts or give new point of views.
And when I posted an info that there are little kittens that are desperately need help and a home, nobody replied.

So apparently, the discussion and the though sharing are not expanded. Ruli’s right, I guess, two hundred something of my friends and seventy something of Ruli’s friends in friendster don’t necessarily means that much point of views. Nothing’s really new, actually, I mean, I hang out with Ruli, Yogi, Lurino and the rest of the peer groups quite often (if not to say, nearly everyday… -sigh- … I really should get a life :p) so Ruli’s thoughts, Yogi’s thoughts, Lurino’s thoughts, are not really that new for me, I mean, we had discussions in real life, we exchange our point of views and opinions in real life, so I wont consider those thoughts they posted on friendster as something newly discovered, whereas the rest of the people in my friendster account whom I less likely have the time and opportunity to meet and sit in a discussion to exchange our thoughts and opinions, whose point of views are supposedly something I don’t usually hear in the real life (since I don’t hang out with all of them like I do with the ‘peer groups’) are very seldom care to do exchange opinions or point of views, or probably even care to read those ‘yang berat-berat’ bulletin boards which usually come in a quite long articles, unlike those fun, easy-to-read quizzes.

Well, about the long articles, I do realize though that most people are unwilling or probably don’t have much time to read them, so I usually post long articles in my blog, not in the bulletin board. And also, of course I do realize that not all those people there in my friends list who do not forward or reply the discussion are totally ignorant or do not have any concern about the topics discussed, probably they’re just as pessimistic as Ruli who thought that it’s pretty much useless to put the thoughts there since there wont be anybody who care anyway, so they choose to pour out and share their opinions and point of views in different medias, blog for instance, like some of my dearly friends do here in my blog links section.

So what’s the use of the friendster’s bulletin board anyway?

Obviously it’s not for some holding some discussions about some particular issues that are happening and need our concern, it’s also not for exchanging point of views, or information…
Well, I’m not saying that filling those trivial and funny quizzes as something that is wrong, though… it could be quite an amusement sometimes… some of the questions in those quizzes are so trivial that it makes me stop for a while and smile a bit. You know, sometimes you get too busy thinking about those intricate and complicated things in your life, you forgot about those simple details that you often missed. However, the thing is… stopping awhile for simple and cute details, really, do not mean that you have the excuse to forget about the whole and the real design…

But, probably Ruli’s right… friendster and its bulletin board and those circles of linked friends are indeed not in the mean or not designed for ‘yang berat-berat’…

-sisie-

Oh.. so.. really?

So I got the link of these quizes from Lurino's
last entry, titled "A Quick Post", but it turned out that it didnt get that quick for me because i found other quizes there are also, really really interesting...

ha ha ha... and the quizes results prove that yes... I am REALLY that angelic... ha ha ha *satisfied laugh*

You are a
protector.
Yes, you don't like to kill people. That goes
against everything you belive in. It's not that
you are a coward, but your ideals and morals
wouldn't allow it. You are the typical hero, do
the righteous things, get the bad guys and do
it all legally. But just because you don't kill
doesn't mean you can't kick ass. And that is
what you do. You use your brain and your
strenght to do honourable deeds and protect
people you know and love. If an evil guy is
going to take over the world soon, it's you who
will get involved. You hate watching innocents
suffer, and love seeing bad people getting what
they deserve. You are probably also happy and
optimistic and work pretty good in groups. And
the friends you usually make are true ones.

Main weapon: Anything at all
Quote: "You only live once, but if
you do it right, once is enough" -Joe
Lewis
Facial expression: Smile

Your element is Water. You have a calm aura around
you and are in tune with the world around. You
observe it but rarely interfere. Because of
your shy and timid nature you will not have so
many friends in your life. But then again,
large crowds aren't your thing anyway. You are
comfortable on your own and are reserved to
others who you don't know or know very little
of. You know everyone out there does not want
to be your friend, and knowing that is good.
However, people who don't know you that well
thinks that you are cold and distant since you
don't want to talk to them. Although you mean
no harm, you can't always be perfectly
understood in the world. No one can. Life in
general are you quite serene with even if there
are some things you don't like. Your love-life
is not so full of boys/girls, but if you
flirted more with the ones you were interested
in I'm sure something would happen. The hobbies
you choose are calmer ones, you are no party
girl that likes to drink and make-out with
three or more guys/girls in one night. Reading
a book or swimming is more your thing.



Your word is: Brooding. You are a true thinker and
often try to figure out the meaning of life,
why we are all here etc. You may not be so
social, and often think twice before acting but
those thoughts you have in your mind never stop
flowing in. Sometimes you can be so
concentrated you forget about other things that
you have to do. Don't change, this world needs
deep people.


taken from: http://quizilla.com/users/PainfulBliss/quizzes/

no need any fucking novocaine

so here i am contemplating about at least... four topics in my head... thinking about how to compose them as soon as i get home...
while trying to forget that i had missed my MIDTERM today.

yes.

I HAD FUCKING MISSED MY MIDTERM TODAY.

while my dad had paid 600 thousands rupiahs just so that i could take that subject.

oh yeah and please dont ask me about HOW exactly do I feel inside.

psychedelic trip

need some psychedelic trips lately?

try to find the black dot in this image below...

*taken from www.mentalfx.com

The Monogamy Thought

Is it natural for human being to be monogamous?

The answer is, it depends. It depends on the definition. There are two definitions of the concept of monogamy itself, at least according to the encyclopedia I read. First, monogamy is the practice or state of being married to one person at a time. Second, it is the practice or state of having a sexual relationship with only one partner at a time.

If the question is applied in the first definition of the monogamy, I guess the answer will be, yes. However, we have to be careful in using the word natural, though. Natural means something that is existed in or caused by nature; not made or caused by humankind. Meanwhile, the concept of marriage itself is actually a society-consensus concept. From the very beginning of humanity, the concept of marriage itself has always been related with the social structure or organization of the society. The marriage, formal union of a man and woman, recognized by the society law, is actually needed in order to accord status to the offspring, so that there will not be any disorderliness in determining inheritance or patrimony. In other cases, marriage is carried out to unite two disputing tribes, or countries, or even clans. Catherine of Valois was betrothed to Henry V in order to cease the dispute between England and France. Marie Antoinette was married to Louis XVI in order to consolidate the relation between France and Austria. Nowadays, in modern society, marriage is needed, again, to accord status, to secure identity. In the society, your identity is something that is crucial, something that is used to define and address you, to delineate clearly your position in the society. Marriage could grant that status, the legalized piece of paper sets clearly who’s the husband of who, who’s the wife of who and who’s the father of who, and so on and so forth. Thereby, that person’s dot is clear enough within the map of the society. From that we can see that the concept of marriage always related with the society, meaning that it is not inherently natural in the characteristic of humankind to have that kind of agreement that recognized the bond between man and woman within the society. To love is a natural characteristic of mankind, but to have a socially recognized relationship is a concept that was made by the society.
If monogamy is defined as the state of being married to one person at a time, it could be said that it is actually natural for human being to apply the concept. If the purpose of marriage is to accord the status of the offspring, to consolidate the disputing parties, or even to make a love-based relationship between man and woman socially recognized, then it could be said that monogamy is the most suitable mode to achieve the purpose. With the concept of monogamy, those purposes could be achieved properly and efficiently. In order to accord status for the offspring to avoid disorderliness in determining heritance or patrimony, a single partner is the most efficient and proper choice than having more than just one partners of marriage. More partners would lead to more complicated position to determine the exact status of the offspring, let alone to determine who has the right to inherit what and so forth. Of course it will be possible to be done, though, however, it is definitely more complicated to achieve the main purpose of marriage by having more partners than just having a single partner, so we can see that monogamy is indeed the concept that is most visible in achieving the purpose of marriage itself. When a concept is created, it is usually created because of some purposes or some targets to be achieved. If the concept of marriage was created to achieve its purpose to accord for the status of the offspring, then we can assume that it is natural to be monogamous, because it is the most proper and efficient way in order to achieve the purposes meant.
The same case as well occurred if the purpose of marriage is to consolidate the relation of two disputing parties, surely we could see that having more partners of marriage would be deficient for that purpose. If Louis XVI married, say, the daughter of Russian’s Catherine the Great while at the same time become the legal husband of Austria’s Marie Antoinette, the consolidation between Austria and France would probably not run as smooth. Therefore, we can see, in this case, it is natural for human being to be monogamous upon the created concept of the marriage itself. Why? Once again, because it is the humanity itself that created the concept of marriage, to achieve certain meant purposes, of course it is natural to find a concept that would be the most proper and effective way to achieve the purposes and logically speaking, it is the concept of monogamy that suits the purposes, therefore; it is natural for human being to be monogamous.

If, however, the question is applied to the second definition of the concept of monogamy, that is; the practice or state of having a sexual relationship with only one partner at a time, the answer is, no. It is not natural for human being to be monogamous. Why does it so? Firstly, again let’s take a look to the meant purpose of the sexual relationship itself. There are two major purposes of a sexual activity; first, as a mean of procreation, and second, as a mean of recreation. In order to avoid confusion about those two purposes, we first have to be able to separate perfectly the different concept of a sexual relationship and the concept of marriage. The concept of marriage is created by the society, society created a sort of agreement that acknowledge and determine a legal basis for a man and a woman to be engaged. Meanwhile, the concept of sexual relationship is a concept that is more naturally instinctual. Long before the concept of marriage was created, human has been able to survive their clans and regenerate by using this concept of sexual relationship.
Therefore, we can see that those two concepts, sexual relationship and marriage, each carry out different purposes. In applying for those two purposes of a sexual relationship, that is; as a mean of procreation and as a mean of recreation, it is actually natural for the human being to be not monogamous. To achieve the mean of procreation, for instance, by applying the concept of monogamy, human would find limitation in reproduction. The capability of producing ovum and sperms is limited by amount and age. Man, as well as woman, for instance would probably not be able to be fertile for the rest of their life. Therefore, to be able to achieve the first purpose of a sexual relationship, that is, to procreate, to create descendants, it is natural for the humankind to find as many partners as they can in order to procreate as many offspring as they can. The same thing also applies in achieving the second purpose of a sexual relationship, which is; as a mean of recreation. The basic characteristic of an activity as a mean of recreation is to find pleasure and enjoyment. By being monogamous, of course this mean would be possible to be achieved. However, by not being monogamous, this mean would be even possible to be achieved in a more effectual way. I could sense that this argument would drag protests or controversies. But, see it this way. First, of course it is natural for human to be bored of the same patterns, if boredom occurred, then the purpose of recreation would no longer be plausible to be achieved. Yes, the boredom could be avoided by applying different patterns. However, having a sexual relationship with different partner could efficiently attain that task, because then the pattern would be inherently different. Now, more partners would of course means more different patterns, therefore, in order to achieve the second purpose, that is; as a mean of recreation, it is natural for human being to be not monogamous. How about the love factor? Well, it is only possible for someone to fall in love with one particular person at a time, but that does not necessarily eliminate the possibility to achieve the purpose of recreation, though. Love is one of the elements that make a sexual relationship pleasurable. But there’s also another element related with the physicals that would still make the mean of recreation could still be possible to be achieved. There we can see that it is natural for human being to be not monogamous in a sexual relationship, because a non-monogamous relationship is more effectual in order to achieve the two major purposes of a sexual relationship.

So, because it is natural for human being to be married with one partner, does it mean that one cannot be married with more than one partner? And because it is not natural for human being to have only one sexual relationship for the rest of their lives, does it mean that the only acceptable type of relationship is the ‘open-relationship’ type? No. One could freely choose whatever suits them. Classifying the natural and the unnatural would only create the boxes of right or wrong or the boxes of should be done and should not be done, and of course we know, there are no such things.

Hmm… I don’t know, at least that’s how I see it.
--sisie--

Being Erased

This is a very late scribble, actually. It should have been posted a week ago, exactly on my birthday. But better late than never, I guess, this brain catastrophe needs to be poured out, so yes…

I think my life is a mega circle. Well, not exactly mega, but large enough to come to some intersections with anybody else’s life which is also, another mega circle. Those intersections could be occurred because of a lot of things, but substantially because of the interactions I made with other people. Every new interactions encountered, every reciprocal actions, every thoughts shared, every single day spent creates a set of intersections within my life and other people’s lives.
So many other circles I’ve intersected and every single scrap of intersection in my mega circle had created a new spectrum, new shade of color that colors my colorful mega circle.

Last week, in June 10th, I was turning twenty. No longer a teenager, I guess. Another one year added to the age of my mega circle, and so far, up to this moment in time, my mega circle had been adorned with so many beautiful shades of colors, lots and lots scraps of intersections. It’s pretty logical, I guess, every new day you pass means a great chance of opportunities to find another circle that would intersect and color your mega circle. So, as my mega circle becomes older and older, those opportunities become greater and greater also. As a result, I presumed that the older your mega circle are, the more complex and rich your circle with colorful intersections. I guess that’s how I thought.

I guess that’s how I thought. But last week, I realized that it does not always turn that way. I learned that those intersections, those beautiful shades of colors you might have in your mega circle do not always intensify in accordance with your intensifying age, but also could be disappeared, or… erased deliberately.

I used to have a prominent color, a huge scrap of intersection, in my mega circle. It had adorned my circle for at least four years, the color was so vibrant and the scrap was large. It happened that way because of the intense interactions I had with that particular circle owned by someone. So, his circle, intersected with mine, created a large scrap of intersections with a vibrant and prominent color in my mega circle, and of course also in his.

However, we all know that life is a realm of randomness, a chaotic random logical consequences of every single tiny bit of your action-reaction. The logical consequences of my ventures had brought me to the fact that the prominent interactions I used to have with that particular person became more and more faded away, until there’s nothing left, went sadly awry. Still, I dare feel that even though the interactions had gone retired, the intersections which was there in my mega circle would not turn to be as faded. This could be happened because, even though you no longer meet or interact with one whom you used to, each and every single interaction, reciprocal action, thought, and feeling you shared with that particular person would still be there, stored in your memory, occupied a portion in your heart, or in your brain, unless of course if you caught some retrogade amnesia or whatever. So the colorful scrap of intersections between your mega circle and that particular one’s mega circle will still be there, just like how I believed the scrap of intersections between mine and his mega circle still remained in its place.

It was not true, though. I forgot the fact that in order to be called an intersection, there should be at least two circles that are intersecting each other. In my heart, and in my brain, I know that his presence stands still. Every single memory and remembrance of him and the interactions, the reciprocal actions, thoughts and feelings we used to have and share are still stored in my mega circle. So, for me, the color, although maybe not as vibrant, is still there coloring my circle. But not for him, I guess. My scrap of intersection of my mega circle in his mega circle has been erased completely, one by one, I guess. Every single tiny bit, until nothing, not a single thing would remain.

In June 10th, I realized that I was erased from his mega circle. He did not call, he did not send me a single sms, and when finally I had managed to recollect all my courage to dial his number and gave him a call, I found out that he had changed his number. He eliminated every single trace of my interactions, every single remnant of the past I used to have with him, he erased his stored memory of all things related with me, my occupied portion in his brain and heart was burnt and the ashes were swept out. My scrap of intersection was erased.

But this writing is not supposed to be sappy and over sentimental. Yes of course I cast a gloom and I was sad but this is not about that. Because he had erased my scrap of intersection in his mega circle, there’s no longer an intersection of his circle and my circle. My mega circle had lost one of its colors. His circle had withdrawn so far away until there could no longer be any possible intersection with mine.

And yes, I learnt that every new day you pass, every age added, the opportunities you might have are not just about finding new colorful circles to intersect and adorn your circle, but also about losing one, or two, or three, or more…

And the moral lesson of this writing is, your mega circle, no matter what happens, should always be kept colorful. I have great friends with all their unique colorful tones, and someone whose color is so wonderful it occupies a large portion in my mega circle with warm feeling and comforting love.
My mega circle is adorned with so many beautiful shades of colors.
I think I should be super-grateful for that.


--sisie--

Ordinary People

I'm in love with you
The same to honeymoon, pass the infatuation fate
Right in the thick of love
At times we're sick of love
It seems like we aruge everyday
I know I misbehaved
And you made your mistake
And we both still got room left to grow
And though love sometimes hurts
I still put you first
And we'll make the things work
But I think we should take it slow

We're just ordinary people
We don't know which way to go
'Cause we're just ordinary people
Maybe we should take it slow
Take it slow
This time we'll take it slow
Take it slow
This time we'll take it slow

The same to movie
No fairytale conclusions are
It gets more confusing everyday
Sometimes it's heaven sent
Then we head back to hell again
We kiss then we make up on the way
I hang up your call
We rise and we fall
And we feel like just walking away
As all love advances, we take second chances
Though it's not fair to see
I still want you to stay

We're just ordinary people
We don't know which way to go
'Cause we're just ordinary people
Maybe we should take it slow
Take it slow
This time we'll take it slow
Take it slow
This time we'll take it slow

Maybe we'll live and learn
Maybe we'll crash and burn
Maybe you stay, maybe you leave, maybe you return
Maybe in another find, maybe we won't survive
Maybe we'll grow and never know

Baby, you and I
We're just ordinary people
We don't know which way to go, yeah
'Cause we're just ordinary people
Maybe we should take it slow
We're just ordinary people
We don't know which way to go
'Cause we're just ordinary people
Maybe we should take it slow

Take it slow
This time we'll take it slow
Take it slow
This time we'll take it slow
Take it slow, slow
This time we'll take it slow
Take it slow
This time we'll take it slow

--John Legend

not good... not good...

Christopher Fry said that this whole damn fucking worthless world does not need a fucking worthless halo.
Oh.
Tell that to all those brain catastrophes.
Hail to the self destruction
self seclusion
self seclusion
self seclusion
self seclusion
self seclusion
self seclusion
self seclusion
self seclusion
Ah Fuck.
This whole thing just, really
an explosion would be suffice for this
su-per-fi-ci-al-li-ty.
You, shut up.
Yes you.

And dont give me that fucking look, really.
Not Helping At All


-sisie-

unexplainable state of mind, this time, again, i would say.
as always, you said.

Carol

I don’t want anything for my birthday
I don’t want to go anywhere
I don’t want to meet no one

I just want to have my all-daylong sleep
Like a happy honey bear

ZZZZzzz...


Thu, 9-6-05
---sisie---

To Ishtar

Ishtar, the guardian of the prostitutes.
can I, on behalf of myself
declare how I found
this contradicting
sense within
of the really really do how much I care for you
and an urge
to stab your beautiful back.

-sisie-

blame it on the hormones

this week has been hell.
I've been excessively and unexplainably hell this week.

really, you're lucky for not being my boyfriend,
because i'm excessively bitchy, annoying, a spoiled-brat lil' girl who is an attention seeker this week. believe me, it's a worst nightmare.
oh yeah, and I cry a whole fucking lot times this damn week.

and yes it's been a week,
and still I haven't got my period.

shhhoot.
-sie-

The Reading

I was reading
something
it’s his eyes
today
that I read

don’t put genre
cause no genre ever
would fit
all the feeling
you feel
when you read
his eyes

you can call it
a journey full of crazy adventures
with pirates and monsters
and hydras and dragons
and behemoths and ogres
one absurd knight
carrying a big heavy cavalry sword
with a curved blade
and a single cutting edge
save the tortured fairies
beat the beasts
and that evil Crown behind the dreary fortress
don’t give him any mercy

but then the next page you turned into
you would want to call it
a contemplation of all
your deepest philosophical thoughts
your thoughts about life
about the existence
about the humankind
about the truth
about the false
all piling up
questions
leaving you
searching

yet don’t expect
that it’s the end
of your reading
care to turn into the next page
and you might want to cling it
to the category
of a simple romantic love story
where you can see
all the lovers’ glee
holding hand
real tight
feeling no need to even say anything at all
but yet they smile to each other
contently

no no no
you’re not finished yet
it’s not the end
of your reading
there are still lots of things left
leaving you feeling mystified
bewildered, exhilarated,
thrilled
addicted

and today
I just realized
that no matter how hard I tried
to finish my reading
before the time brought me
to the end of the day
I always failed
and how I couldn’t wait until tomorrow
to continue reading.


Wed, 270405
1040 PM
--sisie--

Simple Joy of Life?

I’m happy. This is even more than simple joy of life.
I’m happy… no matter how people say how insignificant it is.
To me it IS significant. And I’m hopping… hop… hop…

:)
This is the short story; it was on Koran Tempo, Sunday April 24th 2005. And I’m so blissful. One in the paper was the edited one (the edited one is better, really… thanx to the editor), this one is unedited. Hope you might enjoy the short story, as for myself, I like this one better than the previous one (the Ketika Seratustujuhpuluh Kelinci Berlompatan dari Kepalamu Hari Ini) because when I was making this one, it’s so intricate, it’s like making a puzzle game. Enjoy, hope you could solve the puzzle.

Thank you so much mum and dad for always supporting me
and for the fat pig, who loves cats better than he loves humanity (and yes I’m beginning to be able to see it from his point of view), I love you so much, if it wasn’t because the discussion I had with you, all the rather harsh critics, all the saying of ‘cerpen lo tu hampir sama jeleknya sama cerpen2 sastra Indonesia yang lain, yang sok bermain simbol padahal sebenernya ga ada isinya…’ or ‘lo bermain analogi tu cuma di permukaan aja, you should be more focus on the plot, not just on the details’, I would not be able to make this. I love you so much, really really.
>HUG<



Ibuku Menjahit Sayap

-Risyiana Muthia-



Kalau ada yang bertanya, apa yang terlintas dibenakku ketika mendengar kata ‘Ibu’, kata yang pertama kali muncul adalah... sayap. Lalu yang kedua adalah... mati.
Kalau kemudian mereka lanjut bertanya mengapa sayap dan mengapa mati, maka aku akan meminta mereka untuk duduk manis di sampingku. Karena jawaban dari pertanyaan itu adalah awal dari sebuah cerita yang panjang sekali. Maka aku akan mulai memperingatkan mereka tentang panjangnya cerita ini, lalu kalau mereka bersikeras, aku akan menyarankan mereka untuk mengambil secangkir kopi pahit, atau teh hangat, atau biskuit-biskuit kecil, atau apapun yang bisa membuat mereka nyaman sambil mendengarkan ceritaku.
Sedang aku? ya sudahlah tidak usah kuatir tentang aku. Tentu saja aku akan tetap berada disini, dan dengan senang hati akan kuceritakan semuanya kepada mereka. Tidak usah kuatir, aku tidak merasa terganggu sama sekali. Aku sudah terbiasa bercerita tentang apa saja tanpa harus berhenti sejenak dari pekerjaan maha penting yang sedang kulakukan ini. Maka tentu saja akan kuminta mereka untuk duduk diam sajalah mendengarkanku bercerita kalau memang ingin tahu. Hanya saja, mohon dimaafkan kalau aku tidak bisa selalu menatap lekat-lekat mata lawan bicaraku ketika bercerita. Maklum, pekerjaan maha penting ini harus segera selesai.
Rupanya kamu ingin mendengar ceritaku, ya? Baiklah. Biarkan aku memulai. Sudah siap dengan teh hangatmu? Bagus. Sekali lagi aku mohon maaf kalau aku tidak menghentikan sejenak pekerjaanku untuk bercerita kepadamu. Sama sekali bukan karena tidak hormat, jadi yah... maklum sajalah.
Ibuku. Ibuku adalah sayap. Ibuku adalah sayap yang cantik. Lebih tepatnya lagi, ibuku adalah pembuat sayap yang cantik. Hampir sepanjang kemampuanku merekam keberadaannya dalam ingatanku, tidak pernah sekalipun terbayang dirinya tanpa sepasang rangka sayap raksasa yang selalu ada di pangkuannya setiap malam, setiap hari dalam hidupnya. Rangka sayap itu begitu besar dan kokoh, dan diatasnya, tersulam dengan rapi ratusan bahkan ribuan helai-helai bulu halus putih yang dijahitkan oleh ibu satu demi satu pada malam demi malam.
Aku ingat, ketika usiaku belum genap delapan tahun, pernah aku bertanya pada ibu untuk apa ibu menjahitkan ratusan bahkan ribuan helai-helai bulu halus putih itu setiap malam pada sepasang rangka sayap raksasa itu. Untuk membuat sayap, begitu katanya, sayap yang bisa membawa terbang, lanjutnya lagi sambil menyunggingkan senyum cantik, senyum paling cantik yang pernah kulihat. Lalu ibu akan memintaku mengambilkan sebuah keranjang kayu yang teronggok di sudut ruangan untuk diletakkan di dekat kakinya yang terus saja menjahit helai-helai bulu halus putih pada rangka sayap itu. Kulongok isi keranjang, isinya helai-helai bulu halus putih lagi, saling bertumpukan seperti kapas yang baru dipetik dari pohonnya.
Lalu aku ingat, ketika itu aku juga sempat bertanya, dari mana Ibu mendapatkan helai-helai bulu itu. Begitu halus, lebih halus dari helai bulu apapun yang pernah kusentuh. Juga, begitu putih dan murni, tidak ada setitikpun noda ataupun bercak diatas halusnya. Dan entah bagaimana caranya dan darimana mendapatkannya, setiap malam, keranjang kayu itu selalu saja dipenuhi helai-helai bulu halus putih yang baru, meskipun pada malam sebelumnya, kesemuanya telah ia jahitkan pada sepasang rangka sayap raksasa itu.
Helai-helai bulu halus ini, datang dari cinta, anakku. Kata ibu ketika itu.
Aku hanya diam dan mengiyakan. Tidak paham benar apa maksud Ibu. Tapi tahun demi tahun berikutnya, ketika aku mulai beranjak besar dan bulan demi bulan sudah kulalui merintih sakit khas perempuan, aku mulai memikirkan kembali jawaban Ibu atas pertanyaanku ketika itu. Cinta? Cinta apakah? Cintakah yang memproduksi helai-helai bulu halus putih itu sehingga setiap malam selalu ada di dalam keranjang kayu milik Ibu? Cintakah yang membuat ibu begitu tekun dan tanpa henti menjahitkan helai-helai bulu halus putih itu pada sepasang rangka sayap raksasa setiap malam? Cintakah? Cinta pada siapakah?
Waktu itu aku hendak menanyakannya lagi pada Ibu, tapi urung karena malam itu Ibu terlihat begitu lelah, meski ia terus menjahitkan helai-helai bulu halus putih itu pada sepasang rangka sayap yang kini sudah nyaris seluruhnya berwarna putih tertutup bulu. Tinggal beberapa bagian saja yang masih berupa rangka, rupanya pekerjaan Ibu sudah hampir selesai.
Sementara itu, entah bagaimana dan tidak kumengerti kenapa, tubuhnya terlihat semakin lemah. Ia memang tetap cantik, dibalik cekungnya mata dan tirusnya pipi. Juga tubuh yang ringkih bagai tulang dibalut kulit, kulit yang kering dan berkeriput. Namun betapapun ringkihnya ia, betapapun gemetar tangannya ketika merajutkan helai bulu itu, ia tetap menjahitkannya pada rangka sayap raksasa itu. Dengan perlahan, dengan lembut, dengan pasti.
Ibu, berhenti dulu lah. Kataku.
Tidak bisa, anakku. Tidak bisa berhenti. Ini harus segera selesai. Katanya.
Tapi untuk apa, Ibu? Sudah bertahun-tahun Ibu mengerjakan pekerjaan ini. Berhentilah barang sejenak. Tidak bisakah semalam saja Ibu langsung terlelap tanpa menjahit? Semakin kurus saja tubuh Ibu. Ibu perlu istirahat.
Tidak bisa, anakku. Setiap helai bulu, yang ada pada hari ini, harus segera terpasang pada tempatnya. Tidak bisa dibiarkan teronggok pada keranjang begitu saja. Harus segera terpasang, harus segera terjahit. Maka dari itu Ibu tidak bisa begitu saja tidur tanpa menjahit.
Kalau begitu jangan cari lagi bulu-bulu itu, Ibu! Suaraku menjadi meninggi.
Jangan lagi Ibu cari bulu-bulu itu, jadi keranjang itu tidak perlu terisi, dan Ibu bisa memejamkan mata tanpa harus menguras tenaga terlebih dahulu. Sudahlah, Ibu. Jangan cari lagi. Tidur saja lah.
Anakku. Kata Ibuku, matanya menatap lembut.
Tidak pernah sekalipun bulu-bulu halus putih ini ibu cari. Tidak pernah sekalipun. Setiap hari ia selalu muncul sendiri dan mengisi keranjang kayu. Apapun yang Ibu kerjakan pada siangnya, bagaimanapun Ibu berupaya menjalani hari dengan berbeda, bulu-bulu halus putih itu selalu muncul sendiri dan setiap helai bulu yang ada harus segera dijahit sampai tuntas. Tidak boleh ada yang tersisa. Maka dari itu Ibu terus menjahit, sayangku.
Aku menghela napas panjang. Lalu duduk di sudut kaki Ibu. Kuulurkan tanganku dan mulai memijat lembut mata kakinya. Kaki yang merenta.
Baiklah kalau memang demikian, Ibu. Tapi bahkan tidak bolehkah aku bertanya, mengapa helai-helai bulu putih dan halus itu harus segera dijahitkan? Untuk apa, Ibu?
Ibu terdiam. Lama sekali. Tidak sepatah kata. Meski jemarinya tidak henti menjahit bulu-bulu halus putih itu.
Lalu tiba-tiba ia menatapku, tajam.
Anakku. Sayap dibuat untuk terbang. Ibu harus menjahit setiap helai bulu yang ada agar pekerjaan ibu segera selesai. Jadi Ibu tidak perlu menjahit lagi dan Ibu bisa beristirahat. Lalu sayap ini, sayap raksasa ini, bisa menjalankan tugasnya yang utama, membuat terbang.
Aku terdiam, saat itu tidak begitu kumengerti maksud Ibu. Kupijat-pijat kakinya dan kubiarkan ia terus menjahit sampai habis bulu-bulu halus putih pada keranjang kayu itu. Tapi di dalam hatiku, aku bertekad untuk mencegah bulu-bulu halus putih itu datang mengisi keranjang kayu pada esok hari. Sehingga Ibuku bisa beristirahat tanpa harus menjahit, walaupun untuk semalam saja. Ia sudah terlalu lelah, sejenak istirahat akan sangat berarti untuknya.
Untuk itu, tentunya aku harus tahu dari mana bulu-bulu halus putih itu berasal.

Keesokan harinya, aku bertekad untuk tidak berangkat ke sekolah. Aku ingin mengikuti Ibu seharian, sehingga aku tahu dari mana bulu-bulu putih itu berasal. Ibu, tentunya jangan sampai tahu. Maka pagi itu, seusai sarapan, kucium tangannya dan berlagakku keluar dari pintu. Tapi tidak kuteruskan jalanku ke luar pagar, berbelokku dan bersembunyi.
Di pekarangan samping rumah, ada sebuah pohon beringin yang besar dan lebat sekali. Sulur-sulurnya berjuntaian sampai ke tanah. Aku memanjat pohon itu dan bersembunyi di sana. Dari atas bisa sangat leluasa melihat ke bawah, dan di bawah, di balik jendela, bisa kulihat dengan jelas Ibuku yang sedang mencuci piring bekas sarapan.
Tidak ada yang aneh, batinku. Sampai saat ini belum ada bulu-bulu yang tiba-tiba menyeruak dari balik punggung Ibu atau bertaburan dari langit secara mendadak. Lalu dimana? Tapi tunggu dulu, aku harus bersabar. Hari masih pagi.
Ibu mencuci piring. Setelah itu piring-piring yang sudah bersih dilap dan diletakkan pada rak piring. Kemudian Ibu merapikan meja makan dan mengganti air pada vas bunga. Semuanya biasa saja. Tidak ada yang aneh, tidak ada yang janggal, aktivitas pagi hari yang sungguh biasa saja.
Tapi tiba-tiba terdengar teriakan dari dalam kamar. Vas bunga yang ibu pegang terlepas dan jatuh. Pecah berantakan. Aku sungguh terkejut. Teriakan itu datangnya dari kamar Ayah. Ibu berlari bergegas meninggalkan dapur, aku bisa melihat wajahnya memucat.
Aku segera melompat dari atas pohon beringin. Berlari aku kearah suara itu. Dari balik jendela kamar Ayah, kucoba melihat apa yang terjadi di dalam. Di sana ada Ayah, Ayah ku. Telentang serampangan di atas tempat tidur. Di bawah tempat tidur, persis di sebelah kakinya yang menjuntai, ada genangan muntah. Tidak jelas muntah siapa, tapi hampir pasti itu muntah Ayah karena dia satu-satunya orang yang berada disana.
Waktu itu aku hanya bisa menatap dengan bingung dan mencoba mengingat-ingat. Ayah. Ayahku. Tidak pernah sekalipun aku merasa dekat dengannya. Selalu masih tidur ketika aku bangun dan berangkat sekolah. Lalu siang atau sore ketika aku pulang sekolah, tidak jarang masih juga ia terbaring di tempat tidurnya. Baru pada malam hari ketika aku sangat mengantuk, ia bangun dan pergi entah kemana. Makanpun selalu di kamar, diantarkan oleh Ibu. Tidak banyak bicara dan tidak banyak mengeluh. Hanya diam. Diam sendiri. Selalu diam. Dalam dunianya sendiri.
Hanya beberapa kali kudengar Ayah bersuara, keras, setengah berteriak. Tapi itupun dia lakukan di dalam kamarnya. Begitu sayup sehingga tidak jelas terdengar bicara apa, tapi selalu terdengar suara Ibu di sela-sela. Seperti juga berteriak, seperti tengah beradu mulut. Tapi tidak pernah benar-benar jelas apa yang dibicarakan.
Dan saat itu, kulihat dengan jelas, dan kali ini hampir pula bisa kudengar dengan jelas karena begitu lekat kutempelkan telingaku pada daun jendela, seraya tetap berupaya untuk tak terlihat. Kulihat Ibu berlari terpogoh-pogoh dengan wajahnya yang tirus dan semakin memucat, menghampiri Ayah.
Baaaanggsaaaatttt. Pelacur tuaaa! Kau letakkan dimana minumku itu, hah? Sudah tua tidak ada guna juga kau! Kembalikan!
Aku terkejut. Siapakah yang ia sebut sebagai pelacur tua? Ibuku. Ibuku jelas-jelas bukan pelacur. Dan seorang suami tentu tidak akan menyebut istrinya pelacur.
Kulihat Ibu menarik napas panjang. Diambilnya lap kumal yang teronggok di sudut kamar Ayah, lalu mulai mengelap genangan muntah di dekat kaki Ayah yang menjuntai itu.
Minumanmu sudah habis dari semalam. Botolnya sudah kubereskan. Apalagi yang kau inginkan? Tidak puas kau siksa aku sekarang kau siksa juga dirimu sendiri. Sudah begitu mabuk sampai muntah di kaki sendiri. Kalau tidak ada aku siapa lagi yang membersihkan?...
Breengsseeekkk!! Diam kau pelacur jalang!
Tiba-tiba saja kulihat kaki yang menjuntai itu seperti ujung cambuk yang terhentak melecut, begitu saja menerkam dan menerjang wajah Ibu. Begitu cepat, dan begitu seketika Ibu tersungkur. Diantara genangan muntah itu. Lalu Ayah bangkit dari tempat tidur dan kakinya yang besar itu mulai menghantam rusuk ringkih Ibuku.
Aku berteriak tertahan. Aku berlari, berlari secepat mungkin, menuju Ibuku yang sedang tersungkur. Aku berlari melintasi pekarangan rumah, masuk lewat pintu depan, dan terus berlari. Waktu itu hanya ada satu pikiran yang terlintas di kepalaku. Aku harus menolong Ibu. Maka aku terus berlari. Secepat-cepatnya.
Dari balik pintu yang terbuka, aku bisa melihat kaki Ayah yang dihentak-hentakkan olehnya menghantam rusuk Ibu. Aku berteriak. Rasanya ingin mengutuk mengapa kakiku, kaki ini begitu lambat bergerak. Seperti gerak lambat. Seperti hanya mengambang. Mengapa begitu lama sampai ke sana?
Tapi tiba-tiba saja, aku melihat banyak sekali helai-helai bulu putih menyeruak dari balik telapak kaki Ayah. Menyeruak, berjuta-juta, menyembur begitu cepat.
Setiap kali kaki Ayah menghantam Ibu, bulu-bulu putih itu menyeruak dalam jumlah yang sangat besar. Begitu banyak. Berterbangan.
Satu kali terjangan. Bulu-bulu terbang.
Dua kali terjangan. Bulu-bulu terbang.
Tiga kali terjangan. Bulu-bulu terbang.
Lalu Ayah beranjak keluar dari kamar, pergi menuju pintu depan, tanpa sempat memperhatikan aku yang sedang memperhatikannya.
Dan Ibu, Ibuku, terbaring telungkup tak bergerak di atas genangan coklat kekuningan muntah Ayah. Tangannya kapar tergeletak. Lalu rambut hitamnya yang tadinya tergelung, terurai berantakkan menutupi pipi, merambah bahu, dan menyatu, helai demi helai, mengambang perlahan, pada genangan itu. Tapi yang sungguh membuat takjub, di sekeliling tubuhnya yang tersungkur diam, bertebaran bulu-bulu halus putih dalam jumlah yang maha banyaknya. Ada yang begitu lembut menutupi sebagian tubuhnya, ada yang masih mengambang di udara, ada juga yang tergenggam dengan indah pada sela-sela jemarinya yang kapar tergeletak. Bulu-bulu yang begitu halus putih, diatas helai rambut hitam Ibu yang basah dan berantakan, dan genangan muntah Ayah yang coklat kekuningan. Putih, hitam dan coklat. Putih, hitam dan coklat. Putih, hitam dan coklat.
Begitulah, akhirnya aku mengetahui dari mana helai-helai bulu halus putih itu berasal, teman. Sudah habis teh hangatmu? Yah, mari diisi lagi. Sudah kukatakan kalau ini cerita yang panjang. Ah ya, memang ceritaku ini belum selesai, sabar dululah, aku tahu masih ada pertanyaan yang membayang dalam otakmu dan belum sepenuhnya terjawab oleh ceritaku ini, bukan? Sabar, sabar dululah, ayo dituang lagi tehnya. Aku akan bercerita lagi, tapi sekali lagi mohon maaf karena aku harus tetap bercerita sambil tetap melanjutkan pekerjaanku ini, teman. Seperti yang kukatakan tadi, pekerjaan ini harus segera selesai.
Selama waktu yang bahkan tidak bisa kucerna dengan otakku sendiri aku ingat betapa aku hanya terpaku diam ketika itu. Tidak tahu harus berbuat apa. Entah bagaimana, diantara kengerian yang kurasakan, aku bisa melihat betapa indahnya bulu-bulu halus putih yang berserakan di mana-mana dalam kamar itu. Tapi tiba-tiba tangan Ibu yang tadinya diam mulai bergerak pelan. Dan tersadarlah aku akan apa yang sedang terjadi. Perlahan kudekati Ibu dan kuguncang bahunya.
Ibu, Ibu...
Mata Ibu terbuka. Sayu menatap wajahku. Bibirnya bergumam. Sayup. Pelan.
Tolong bantu aku bangun, anakku. Terlalu banyak pekerjaan. Kali ini tidak bisa ditunda lagi sampai malam. Kali ini harus segera selesai.
Maka kubantu Ibu mengangkat tubuhnya. Dan ketika ia tegak berdiri, ia tidak berkata apa-apa lagi kecuali segera memunguti bulu-bulu halus putih itu yang bertebaran dimana-mana. Dikumpulkannya bulu-bulu halus putih itu sebanyak mungkin. Karena tidak muat lagi dikumpulkan dalam tangkupan tangannya, dibukanya bajunya yang telah setengah basah dan dijejalkannya bulu-bulu halus putih itu kedalam bajunya.
Aku terpaku diam. Tapi sorot mata Ibu yang menatap tajam dalam sayunya memaksaku untuk tidak diam. Lalu perlahan, kubantu Ibu memunguti bulu-bulu halus putih itu. Semuanya, sampai habis tak tersisa. Lalu kuikuti langkah kakinya.
Ibuku lalu pergi ke kamar sebelah. Disana ditumpahkannya bulu-bulu halus putih itu ke dalam keranjang kayu yang kosong menunggu. Aku tidak tahu lagi apa yang mesti kulakukan selain mengikuti gerak-geriknya. Lalu Ibu mengambil rangka sayap raksasa yang sudah hampir seluruhnya tertutup bulu putih itu dan mulai duduk menjahit.
Rangka sayap ini, anakku. Sudah hampir selesai.
Tidak lama lagi, ia bisa menjalankan tugasnya untuk terbang. Gumamnya seraya terus menjahit.
Aku terdiam menatap Ibu menjahit helai demi helai bulu-bulu halus putih itu. Ibu juga diam, terus bekerja. Setiap kali tangannya menjahitkan helai demi helai, jemarinya bergetar dan dadanya naik turun seperti menyengal napas. Dan ketika ia menjahitkan helai terakhir, aku bisa melihat betapa sempurnanya rangka sayap raksasa itu.
Rangka itu, kini tidak lagi rangka. Ia sudah berubah menjadi sepasang sayap raksasa yang sempurna. Begitu indah, begitu lembut, begitu putih. Rasanya siapapun bisa diterbangkan olehnya. Betapa indah. Betapa sempurna. Lalu kulihat Ibu tersenyum, dan kedua matanya yang sayu, berbinar indah.
Aku juga tersenyum, lama. Akhirnya selesai juga. Lalu Ibu berdiri, diusungnya sayap putih raksasa itu dengan kedua tangannya. Lama ia menatap, lalu ia mulai berputar. Berputar dengan senang.
Anakku, lihat! Bagus sekali bukan sayap ini? Lihat! Akhirnya selesai juga sayap ini. Coba lihat! Alangkah indahnya. Begitu putih, begitu putih karena cinta. Betapa indah.
Ibu mulai menari berputar-putar. Aku juga, turut bahagia untuknya. Lalu Ibu mencoba memasang sayap raksasa itu pada punggungnya, dan kami menari bersama, berputar dan melompat. Lalu sayap raksasa yang indah itu, yang begitu cantik dipenuhi bulu-bulu halus putih, dibelakang punggung Ibu, mulai mengepak perlahan.
Tiba-tiba ibu mulai terbatuk. Dan dari mulutnya, darah mengalir deras. Ibu terbatuk tanpa henti. Aku hanya bisa berteriak. Berteriak lama sekali. Kulihat darah yang mengalir itu mulai membasahi baju Ibu, terus turun ke lantai, lalu mengalir menuju bulu-bulu halus putih yang masih tersisa di dalam keranjang kayu. Sekejap saja kulihat bulu-bulu halus putih itu kini berubah warna. Semua merah! Semua merah seperti darah!
Dan Ibuku, Ibuku tidak lagi menari, ia terbatuk untuk yang terakhir kali, lalu tersenyum lembut ke arahku. Dan sayap putih yang terpasang di punggungnya itu mengepak semakin kerap. Menjalankan tugasnya. Membawa ia terbang. Dan ia pun terbang. Terbang untuk selamanya. Tidak lagi kembali.

Begitulah ceritanya, teman. Itulah sebabnya mengapa setiap kali aku mendengar kata ‘Ibu’, yang terlintas di dalam benakku adalah sayap, lalu yang kedua adalah mati. Karena sejak saat itulah Ibuku mati dan tidak pernah kembali. Terbang bersama sayap raksasanya. Oh iya, hampir lupa. Mungkin kamu bertanya-tanya apa yang kulakukan setelah itu. Yah, kamu tentu masih ingat dengan keranjang kayu yang masih berisi bulu-bulu halus putih yang telah menjadi merah itu, bukan? Keranjang kayu itu kubawa pergi, lalu aku segera mencari tempat di mana aku bisa duduk, dan mulai menjahit.
Mulai menjahit, tanpa pernah berhenti. Bahkan sampai sekarang ini, teman. Diatas rangka sayap yang juga raksasa, yang ketika itu kutemukan secara ajaib dibawah kolong tempat tidur ayah. Aku terus menjahit, menjahit tanpa henti. Maka dari itu sama sekali tidak bisa kuhentikan pekerjaanku ini, bahkan untuk berbincang denganmu. Sayap ini harus segera selesai.
Tapi tentu saja rangka sayap yang kujahitkan ini sangat berbeda dengan milik ibuku. Jauh berbeda. Bulu-bulu yang kujahitkan tidak berwarna putih, warnanya merah, semerah darah. Sungguh wajar, karena, tidak seperti Ibu, bulu-bulu halus ini tidak berasal dari cinta. Entah dari apa aku juga kurang begitu mengerti. Yang jelas, aku hanya mengambil bulu-bulu halus merah yang tersisa dari keranjang kayu itu.
Dan aku tidak akan berhenti sampai pekerjaanku selesai. Bulu-bulu halus merah ini juga tidak ada habisnya, temanku. Setiap kali aku bercerita dan terpaksa mengingat kembali, tentang sayap itu, terjangan kaki ayah, dan darah yang keluar dari mulut Ibuku, mendadak jutaan bulu-bulu halus merah akan menyeruak dari kepalaku. Dan aku harus segera menjahitnya, sampai selesai. Agar rangka sayap ini tidak lagi menjadi rangka, tapi sebuah sayap besar berwarna merah darah yang siap menerbangkan aku ke tempat orang itu, orang yang telah membunuh Ibuku.


Depok, 1 Februari 2005

A Sex Talk

Funny hot noon, I was guzzling down my iced cappuccino at Kansas with my friends when suddenly one of them popped a very funny question to me.

‘Sisie, do you consider yourself liberal?’
“Huh? Me? I don’t know. I guess so. Why?’
‘What do you think about free sex?’
‘Huh? It’s okay, I guess. Why?’
‘Would you do that?’

I slurped the last drop of my iced cappuccino.
‘If done safely, I really don’t see anything wrong in doing that. Why? How about you? Would you do that?’
‘Umm… no…’
‘Why?’
‘For religious reason, I guess. It’s forbidden in my religion’
‘Oh okay. So based on your religion, you choose not to do sex at all.’
‘Not really, I mean. I never really do sex, like… the intercourse, because, for me it’s considered as the real sex.’
‘You mean, you do the kissing, necking, petting and all that, except for the intercourse?’
‘Because it’s not the real sex, and I want to keep my virginity until I got married. I don’t do the intercourse because it could rupture my hymen.'

Hmm… interesting, so apparently she chooses not to do ‘sex’ –of course in this case, in her definition of that term – because of two main reasons. First, because sex is forbidden in her religion, and she had chosen to obey whatever stated in her religion. Second, because she wants to keep her virginity until she got married.

I can say that I do respect people’s right to choose. If she prefers to avoid whatever forbidden in her religion, of course it’s her right to do so. However, if we look it closer – even though, of course, I’m not an expert of Islam – we can see that Koran has never quite made a distinct definition about sex. In other words, I have never read anything from the Koran that differs what is called as the ‘real sex’ and the ‘not-so-real-sex’. As a matter of fact, I never knew that Islam has the concept of virginity at all, that is, before marriage, women’s hymen got to remain untouchable. As far as I know, all physical contacts related with human’s lechery between man and woman that is not married is forbidden in Islam.

The definition of sex itself does not specifically mean sexual intercourse. Any sexual activity, relating with genital, could be considered as sex because that’s where the term comes from, the genitals. So, if she does any activity that is intended to arouse the genital, such as petting, masturbating, or giving oral sex, that could be categorized as doing sexual activities, that is, sex.

Now, let’s take a look of the concept of the virginity. We know that Islam never mention about any concept of hymen, so apparently the virginity of a woman does not determined by the remaining hymen in her vagina. And since Islam has never stated that sex is specifically meant as sexual intercourse, we could appoint a definition that in Islam, any sexual related activity could be considered as sex. And of course, logically speaking, she’s no longer a virgin if she had already done any kind of sexual related activity.

Furthermore, since Islam has never mentioned the concept as the hymen at all, we could see that this whole concept of hymen and virginity is a society-constructed concept, a society norm. Norm, as all we know, is a standard or pattern, especially of social behavior, that is typical or expected of a group. Now, because norm is a typical standard of expected behavior in groups of society, it is very logical that different groups of society may apply different sets of norm. The norm is constructed, made and applied based on the various concepts adapted by the particular groups of society, they could came from the traditional customs adapted by the society, or it might even be constructed by any particular purpose. Those characteristics, of course, make norm a versatile concept that is changeable and has the possibility of evolving, later in the future. For instance, it’s used to be a common expected behavior for Indonesian women to be married before her twenties or else she will be looked down and called as an old maiden. Now, because the society’s concept about marriage has changed, we can see that nowadays people no longer adapt that norm. One that is believed as a very clear rule now might as well be changed if the society no longer believes in the concept.

Therefore, basing the choice of not doing an act of sexual intercourse and to remain virgin before marriage on a religious belief and a society-constructed concept is very feeble and implausible. First, because in religion, any act of sexual related activity is forbidden, so even though no sexual intercourse activity had carried out, it is still categorized as forbidden in the religion. If you based your choice on religious reason, then you have to be consistent, don’t do any sexual related activity at all if you don’t want to violate what is written in your religion.
Second, because society norm is versatile and changeable, her choice might be irrelevant if the society happens to change the concept of the virginity itself. And if you only based your choice on what is believed by the society without really knowing the reasons why or put your own stance toward it, then you are only doing the act of conforming to the society standard.

Like I said, I really do respect in people’s right to choose. If you happen to choose not to do sex at all, it’s your right to do so. But at least do it because you know exactly why you do choose the choice, for instance, because you might feel uncomfortable to do it not with a sole partner, that is, your husband. Or probably, you avoid sex before marriage because it might cause bad effects for your body – which of course untrue except you’re doing it in a most damaging and excessive way – or for your psychological state. Or any other reasons constructed and acknowledged by your own consciousness.

If you don’t have any reason to object sex, then why choose not to do it? Don’t let yourself be a sex object, you ask for sex… and people object…
Haehuhauehuahuhuahuea…. Ini jayus bener…

Signing off in a weird cold night where I suppose to prepare myself for my ‘ras dan gender’ presentation for tomorrow.

-sisie-

The bad fruit nobody buys...

Scar

He left a card, a bar of soap and a scrubbing brush next to a note
That said "use these down to your bones"
And before I knew I had shiny skin and it felt easy being clean like him
I thought "this one knows better than I do"

A triangle trying to squeeze through a circle
He tried to cut me so I'd fit

And doesn't that sound familiar?
Doesn't that hit too close to home?
Doesn't that make you shiver; the way things could've gone?
And doesn't it feel peculiar when everyone wants a little more?
And so that I do remember to never go that far,
Could you leave me with a scar?

So the next one came with a bag of treats,
she smelled like sugar and spoke like the sea
And she told me don't trust them, trust me
Then she pulled at my stitches one by one, looked at my insides clicking
her tongue and said "This will all have to come undone"

A triangle trying to squeeze through a circle
She tried to cut me so I'd fit

And doesn't that sound familiar?
Doesn't that hit too close to home?
Doesn't that make you shiver; the way things could have gone?
And doesn't it feel peculiar when everyone wants a little more?
And so that I do remember to never go that far,
Could you leave me with a scar?

I think I realized just in time, although my old self was hard to find
You bathe me in your finest wine but I'll never give you mine'
Cos I'm a little bit tired of fearing that I'll be the bad fruit nobody buys
Tell me, did you think we'd all dream the same?

-Missy Higgins-

ever felt of being hated by the one you love
because it seemed that you love him/her too much?
because it seemed that you love his presence too much
because it seemed that you love all the things he did to you
and all the smile, all the warm smile he gave you
seemed that you enjoyed it too much?
-sigh-

ehm.. ehm..

Sedang bingung.
Ratusan permen dan cokelat hasil jarahan yang sekarang terserak ditempat gw akankah gw jual di kereta2/ bis2, titip di warung atau dijadiin sembako aja ya...
Oh iya... kalo ada yang berminat sama kaos berkualitas dengan harga murah bisa hubungi gw, murah kok...cuma sepuluh ribu aja! Tersedia dalam pilihan warna merah dan putih dengan ukuran M, L dan XL...
hehehehehehehehe....
Iya Andrei... gw murahan... tau kok hehehehehe...

--sisie--

Misteri Empu Gandring

hehehehehehehehehehehe...
gw janji untuk membuat entry tentang ABS si empu gandring sama Ovi... yah wiss viii... nih gw tulis...
alkisah di sebuah kerajaan, hiduplah seorang Raja yang berkuasa bernama Tunggul Ametung, dia memperistri seorang wanita cantik jelita bernama Ken Dedes yang biasa dipanggil Dedes Permataku... namun demikian saudara-saudara... ternyata sang Dedes Permataku ini berselingkuh dengan seorang pria tegap kekar dan berambut gondrong bernama Arok...
Tapi sungguh... tulisan ini bukan mengenai Tunggul Ametung, Dedes Permataku apalagi Arok... tulisan ini tentang seorang empu pembuat keris yang tinggal nun jauh di pelosok hutan belantara. Sang empu rupanya adalah empu kepercayaan kerajaan yang biasa membuat keris-keris maha sakti untuk keperluan kerajaan. Suatu ketika, Arok memesan beratus-ratus keris sakti kepada si empu Gandring ini. Dan disanalah ia, duduk mengasah keris diatas balok papan yang ceritanya adalah batu sambil mengenakan celana selutut berwarna putih yang dibalut kain-kain untuk mempertegas kesakralan si empu itu.
Dan sang empu pun duduk terpekur, serius sekali... sambil... bertelanjang dada.
Lalu terdengarlah bisik-bisik di bangku penonton....

selanjutnya ya terserah anda lah. perlu diingat. tulisan ini sama sekali bukan bentuk provokasi.
apalagi pengantar stensilan.

nahh, lunas janji gw kan vi?

---sisie---