try to find the black dot in this image below...
*taken from www.mentalfx.com
Wednesday, June 29, 2005
psychedelic trip
need some psychedelic trips lately?
try to find the black dot in this image below...
*taken from www.mentalfx.com
try to find the black dot in this image below...
*taken from www.mentalfx.com
Wednesday, June 22, 2005
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--
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--
Sunday, June 19, 2005
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--
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--
Wednesday, June 15, 2005
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
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
Tuesday, June 14, 2005
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.
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.
Wednesday, June 08, 2005
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---
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---
Tuesday, May 03, 2005
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-
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-
Sunday, May 01, 2005
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-
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-
Wednesday, April 27, 2005
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--
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
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
Sunday, April 24, 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-
‘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-
Thursday, April 07, 2005
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-
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-
Sunday, April 03, 2005
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--
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---
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---
Wednesday, March 30, 2005
The First Death
what is death?
is there any life after death?
when i'm died, will my soul still be lingering here?
will i still be the same mind entity that i used to be?
will i still love the person i'm loving now?
will i still enjoy the ability to question, to observe and to contemplate?
what is death?
is it only a transformation of my solid body being,
in to another form of being?
is it a deformization of my solid body being?
or is it a metamophorsis, an evolution (or revolution) of my present entity into another form?
what is death?
will i still see colours in my dead vision?
will i still taste the sweet, the sour and the bitter?
will i even still exist?
will i even still exist?
--sisie--
is there any life after death?
when i'm died, will my soul still be lingering here?
will i still be the same mind entity that i used to be?
will i still love the person i'm loving now?
will i still enjoy the ability to question, to observe and to contemplate?
what is death?
is it only a transformation of my solid body being,
in to another form of being?
is it a deformization of my solid body being?
or is it a metamophorsis, an evolution (or revolution) of my present entity into another form?
what is death?
will i still see colours in my dead vision?
will i still taste the sweet, the sour and the bitter?
will i even still exist?
will i even still exist?
--sisie--
Sunday, March 27, 2005
Wednesday, March 23, 2005
feelin... stupidly and sickly melancholic
...outside's drizzling steadily,
here, Des'ree's Kissing You...
.......
.......
pride can stand thousand trials
The strong will never fall
But watching stars without you
My soul cries
Heaving heart is full of pain
Ohh, ahh the aching
'cause i'm kissing you, ahh
I'm kissing you, love
Touch me deep, pure and true
Give to me forever
'cause i'm kissing you, ahh
I'm kissing you love
And where are you now
Where are you now
'cause i'm kissing you
I'm kissing you, love
.....
oh yes and i can say that my heart is not in its default stage.
should i find a way to cope with it or should i just justify it?
.....
ah none.
cheesingly romantic, and irritating, and spoiled, and weak, and 'menye'ish..
ah none.
just none.
hmm... zzzzzzzz.....
here, Des'ree's Kissing You...
.......
.......
pride can stand thousand trials
The strong will never fall
But watching stars without you
My soul cries
Heaving heart is full of pain
Ohh, ahh the aching
'cause i'm kissing you, ahh
I'm kissing you, love
Touch me deep, pure and true
Give to me forever
'cause i'm kissing you, ahh
I'm kissing you love
And where are you now
Where are you now
'cause i'm kissing you
I'm kissing you, love
.....
oh yes and i can say that my heart is not in its default stage.
should i find a way to cope with it or should i just justify it?
.....
ah none.
cheesingly romantic, and irritating, and spoiled, and weak, and 'menye'ish..
ah none.
just none.
hmm... zzzzzzzz.....
Sunday, March 20, 2005
The Pigs' Musing...
Saturday afternoon, me and him was doing what so called ‘leyeh-leyeh’ – Sindrow’s term, hope it’s not copyrighted… - smiling contentedly to each other when suddenly he gave a very soothing gaze to my eyes and asked
‘Why did we meet?’
A bit bemused of his question, I answered ‘because we worked at ak’ sa ra, remember?’
‘I know, dear. But I mean, why did we meet?’
‘I don’t know. Because it’s just happened, I guess. I happened to work there and so did you, and so there we were then.’
‘No, no… I mean, why? Why did we meet? Was it planned? Was it because of chaos? Was it incidental? I mean… all of a sudden I worked there and I found you and I chose to fall for you and then I chose to let you know my feeling and here we are now, feeling as happy and as content as we are now. Why? Destiny?’
‘Destiny? No. I don’t believe in such thing.’ I said.
‘You mean… you don’t believe that something had already written?’
‘No. I mean… well yes, I do believe in destiny, sort of, but the destiny does not mean that somebody’s pattern has already been written entirely, so all he got to do is to walk on the written pattern. I do believe that in somebody’s life, there are several bold patches. Those bold patches are the intersection on whatever random acts that person chooses to do.’
‘What do you mean?’ he asked.
‘It’s like this. In your life, of course there are paths, several different paths. For instance, you could chose to enter the path of not to send the application weeks earlier before the recruitment were already opened, or you could chose to enter the path of coming to the job interview two hours late that will resulted in you being replaced in the different schedule with mine. However, if we talk about that so called destiny, supposed ‘you meet me’ is the bold patch in your life, whatever minor paths you chose, it will always led you to the intersection of the patterns, that is, you meeting me. Maybe that’s what people called as destiny.’ I said.
‘For instance, the different lines in the picture are the random paths you have in your life. The red line is probably the path of you not coming to the job interview. The pink line could be the path of you choosing to flirt with Ditri at campus before deciding to apply at her office, and so on and so forth. However, no matter how twisted and twirling the path you chose, those different paths will come into one intersection, the bold patch, that is, you meeting me. After experiencing the bold patch, then the random paths again. It is you who made the random path, it is you who decide to choose or not to choose it, but somewhere beyond, there’ll be another bold patch that you’ll meet. That is destiny. I guess’ I continued.
He then looked at me, and said.
‘Interesting. But, I think every different random path chosen will result in a different bold patch. Entirely different. For instance, if I chose to come late back then in our first day of work, I would not met you that morning, would not be able to see you panicking because you thought you’d came too early, and we would not spend the morning smoking and chattering while waiting the time to finally point at nine thirty where we could start to work. The result will be entirely different, then. Had I not undergone those things, I might not come into the same bold patch if I had undergone those things. So if I chose different path, I will be led into different pattern, of course I might met you, and most likely I would also fall for you, that is, an intersection of pattern, but the pattern I undergo would be different, baby.’
‘See the lines, suppose that blue line is the path of me choosing to come early that morning, then that choice led me to see you that morning, smiling relievedly when seeing me there, and then here goes the bold blue patch, we met and we talked. However, if I happened to choose the orange line, suppose it is the path of me choosing to wake up a bit late that morning, I would came late, then I would not see you, then probably instead of talking to me that morning, you would end up talking to Ditri or Yumma or whoever person it might be, then the pattern of the blue path and the orange path are entirely different, of course there might be intersection, but the final result would not be the same.’
‘Interesting.’
‘It is, isn’t it?’
‘So you mean, if you had not chosen the path you chose back then, we might not be here, right here, at this moment?’ I asked.
‘I guess. If I chose the red line, I might still have the same feeling of loving you, but probably because of the sequence of acts caused by that particular choice, we might had not came in to this stage of relationship, probably we would just about to start it or probably even better, the feeling we have right now might be even deeper. It is a matter of the path we choose. Different path, different pattern, different result.’
‘Very interesting. So it means that, had you not chosen the path you chose back then, and had I not chosen the path I had chosen, you would not be here, holding my hand, and we might not come across this feeling we have now?’
‘I guess.’
‘Babi, whatever theory that is correct, I’m glad we’ve chosen what we had chosen. I’m happy that right now, in this precise moment, we’re here, doing exactly what we’re doing, with the exact feeling we’re feeling right now. I love you. Really really.’
‘I’m glad too, love. Really really.’
--sisie--
‘Why did we meet?’
A bit bemused of his question, I answered ‘because we worked at ak’ sa ra, remember?’
‘I know, dear. But I mean, why did we meet?’
‘I don’t know. Because it’s just happened, I guess. I happened to work there and so did you, and so there we were then.’
‘No, no… I mean, why? Why did we meet? Was it planned? Was it because of chaos? Was it incidental? I mean… all of a sudden I worked there and I found you and I chose to fall for you and then I chose to let you know my feeling and here we are now, feeling as happy and as content as we are now. Why? Destiny?’
‘Destiny? No. I don’t believe in such thing.’ I said.
‘You mean… you don’t believe that something had already written?’
‘No. I mean… well yes, I do believe in destiny, sort of, but the destiny does not mean that somebody’s pattern has already been written entirely, so all he got to do is to walk on the written pattern. I do believe that in somebody’s life, there are several bold patches. Those bold patches are the intersection on whatever random acts that person chooses to do.’
‘What do you mean?’ he asked.
‘It’s like this. In your life, of course there are paths, several different paths. For instance, you could chose to enter the path of not to send the application weeks earlier before the recruitment were already opened, or you could chose to enter the path of coming to the job interview two hours late that will resulted in you being replaced in the different schedule with mine. However, if we talk about that so called destiny, supposed ‘you meet me’ is the bold patch in your life, whatever minor paths you chose, it will always led you to the intersection of the patterns, that is, you meeting me. Maybe that’s what people called as destiny.’ I said.
‘For instance, the different lines in the picture are the random paths you have in your life. The red line is probably the path of you not coming to the job interview. The pink line could be the path of you choosing to flirt with Ditri at campus before deciding to apply at her office, and so on and so forth. However, no matter how twisted and twirling the path you chose, those different paths will come into one intersection, the bold patch, that is, you meeting me. After experiencing the bold patch, then the random paths again. It is you who made the random path, it is you who decide to choose or not to choose it, but somewhere beyond, there’ll be another bold patch that you’ll meet. That is destiny. I guess’ I continued.
He then looked at me, and said.
‘Interesting. But, I think every different random path chosen will result in a different bold patch. Entirely different. For instance, if I chose to come late back then in our first day of work, I would not met you that morning, would not be able to see you panicking because you thought you’d came too early, and we would not spend the morning smoking and chattering while waiting the time to finally point at nine thirty where we could start to work. The result will be entirely different, then. Had I not undergone those things, I might not come into the same bold patch if I had undergone those things. So if I chose different path, I will be led into different pattern, of course I might met you, and most likely I would also fall for you, that is, an intersection of pattern, but the pattern I undergo would be different, baby.’
‘See the lines, suppose that blue line is the path of me choosing to come early that morning, then that choice led me to see you that morning, smiling relievedly when seeing me there, and then here goes the bold blue patch, we met and we talked. However, if I happened to choose the orange line, suppose it is the path of me choosing to wake up a bit late that morning, I would came late, then I would not see you, then probably instead of talking to me that morning, you would end up talking to Ditri or Yumma or whoever person it might be, then the pattern of the blue path and the orange path are entirely different, of course there might be intersection, but the final result would not be the same.’
‘Interesting.’
‘It is, isn’t it?’
‘So you mean, if you had not chosen the path you chose back then, we might not be here, right here, at this moment?’ I asked.
‘I guess. If I chose the red line, I might still have the same feeling of loving you, but probably because of the sequence of acts caused by that particular choice, we might had not came in to this stage of relationship, probably we would just about to start it or probably even better, the feeling we have right now might be even deeper. It is a matter of the path we choose. Different path, different pattern, different result.’
‘Very interesting. So it means that, had you not chosen the path you chose back then, and had I not chosen the path I had chosen, you would not be here, holding my hand, and we might not come across this feeling we have now?’
‘I guess.’
‘Babi, whatever theory that is correct, I’m glad we’ve chosen what we had chosen. I’m happy that right now, in this precise moment, we’re here, doing exactly what we’re doing, with the exact feeling we’re feeling right now. I love you. Really really.’
‘I’m glad too, love. Really really.’
--sisie--
Wednesday, March 09, 2005
it's not a curse... it's a tear burst...
sublime sublime sublime sublime
kadang-kadang gw pikir gw SUNGGUH over estimate myself...
gimana enggak coba,
jual diri jadi MAPRES, mengangguk gembira ala puppy yang kegirangan waktu ditawarin lomba debat di FE, lompat-lompat minta dikasih tugas bikin artikel buat bulletin, sampai bersemangat '45 menyelamatkan fakultas gw sendiri dari kebobrokan demokrasi yang dibuat sebagai justifikasi untuk mengislamkan kampus oleh orang-orang Islam fundamentalis itu...
hasilnya adalah...
kadang-kadang gw pikir gw SUNGGUH over estimate myself...
gimana enggak coba,
jual diri jadi MAPRES, mengangguk gembira ala puppy yang kegirangan waktu ditawarin lomba debat di FE, lompat-lompat minta dikasih tugas bikin artikel buat bulletin, sampai bersemangat '45 menyelamatkan fakultas gw sendiri dari kebobrokan demokrasi yang dibuat sebagai justifikasi untuk mengislamkan kampus oleh orang-orang Islam fundamentalis itu...
hasilnya adalah...
- besok gw mesti submit paper buat Mapres, belom bikin sama sekali, not even started, bahan masih di download, dan itu sebabnya gw masih di warnet sampai semalam ini...
- disket ketinggalan di kostan, padahal editan artikel gw ada disitu, artinya gw gak bakal bisa ngirim editannya setidak2nya sampai besok. Andrei dan Tami akan merajam gw. well... mungkin nggak Tami, tapi Andrei... definitely...
- presentasi buat paper lomba debat di FE belom gw buat sama sekali, latihan apalagi... padahal lombanya hari Senin ini... sungguh mati gw ini.
- tulisan gw buat FIB masih setengah jadi, dan gw agak ragu untuk melanjutkannya... for several reasons that i've discussed with Ruli... though he clearly despised my so called 'too soft and not-going-to-win' approach... tapi makasih ya babi untuk selalu menjadi partner gw untuk terus mikir mikir mikir dan mikir... >hug<
- Speaking belum, Writing belum, ngabisin baca buku yang sejubel2 gw pinjem itu juga apalagi...
hyaikh... tampar aja lah gw... ni Adobe Acrobat masih 90% padahal gw dah nunggu hampir dua jam...
aku
butuh katarsis...
--sisie--
pindahan tahap II
gw udah ngecat.
the original sound track was Yellow-coldplay
diselingi dengan sedikit Somewhere Beyond the Sea-nya Robbie Williams yang dinyanyiin sepenggal-sepenggal (karena gak apal liriknya...)
Dr Worms - They Might be Giants yang dinyanyiin dengan suara satu dua tiga dan sepuluh bareng-bareng antie n hany
Ordinary People - Frente
Love Fool - The Cardigans
No One Else Come Close - Joe
pokoknya gw udah ngecat.
barang-barang akhirnya udah dipindahin semua.
kecuali mug Scorpio kesayangan gw sama piring beruang dari mama
besok mau ngambil ah ke kostan yang lama.
re-arrange barang dan bersih-bersih bikin gw GILA
bersin bersin bersin bersin bersin terus sampe tepar dan gak mampu bergerak.
tapi akhirnya lumayan rapi juga.
beli beli beli peralatan kostan.
anjir mahal.
tapi gak pa pa, yang penting bahagia.
he
he
sekarang tinggal ngurusin lemari,
or else segala kardus-kardus menggila itu belum bisa dipensiunin...
Sophaaannn hua hua huaaaa... ayo bantuin gw ngebongkaarr...
Om yoosskiiiie... katanya mo minjemin mobiiillll...
hiks.
doakan saya ya (sambil hormat ala benteng takeshi)
--sisie--
the original sound track was Yellow-coldplay
diselingi dengan sedikit Somewhere Beyond the Sea-nya Robbie Williams yang dinyanyiin sepenggal-sepenggal (karena gak apal liriknya...)
Dr Worms - They Might be Giants yang dinyanyiin dengan suara satu dua tiga dan sepuluh bareng-bareng antie n hany
Ordinary People - Frente
Love Fool - The Cardigans
No One Else Come Close - Joe
pokoknya gw udah ngecat.
barang-barang akhirnya udah dipindahin semua.
kecuali mug Scorpio kesayangan gw sama piring beruang dari mama
besok mau ngambil ah ke kostan yang lama.
re-arrange barang dan bersih-bersih bikin gw GILA
bersin bersin bersin bersin bersin terus sampe tepar dan gak mampu bergerak.
tapi akhirnya lumayan rapi juga.
beli beli beli peralatan kostan.
anjir mahal.
tapi gak pa pa, yang penting bahagia.
he
he
sekarang tinggal ngurusin lemari,
or else segala kardus-kardus menggila itu belum bisa dipensiunin...
Sophaaannn hua hua huaaaa... ayo bantuin gw ngebongkaarr...
Om yoosskiiiie... katanya mo minjemin mobiiillll...
hiks.
doakan saya ya (sambil hormat ala benteng takeshi)
--sisie--
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