"one shouldn't trying hard to get used to broken hearts. each breaking has its own distinct pain one should experience just as much as the heart could take. scars does not relate to purity."

i thought a broken heart is just some sort of typical sickness you had a certain remedy you could always take whenever it appears. but turns out it wasn't such of sort. when a heart broke, and then by any means it was healed, it was never the same exact one anymore. so when next time it got broken again, well, you'd most likely need any other means to heal it. and by any other means, it was anything but time.

i hope a fairly decent start is not too much to ask as something worth all those broken hearts.

1994.

while winter crawling to its end, slowly farewells preparing the parties.
and it's not about a changing year.


a white winter is a best possible time to end things, and to start others in queue. not spring. because spring definitely is a better time to build a connection. to understand more. to fall in love, to fall out it. to catch the falling cherry blossom petals before the ground. with loved ones, on a checkered table cloth of blue and white.

and then summer came a little bit too late. a perfect round of forgetting, and letting go. of things we haven't yet owned. a realization might come at the last minutes. and that's normal. nothing are too false nor too true when it comes to building trusts. those might crashed by the cliff. or went safely to the glass house. nothing is eternal, as sun never stay put at a seat.

finally it's fall. when the need of settling down finally took over the thoughts. that's when you take a look at the hourglass in the corner of your bookshelf. and gave it an exhale. a long one. you never took the hard-to-count sands as a metaphor of your year-time regrets. you never had any time to regret things to begin with. but it all became a different matter when you decide to get off the bar stool, going home, and make a comfort out of your broken-white couch.


the parties are over.
and it's not to celebrate another circle of a year.

because pains are growing, with different shades among each of us.
and unfortunately those come in perfect round yearly.

januari.

setiap dinding jiwa punya gelisahnya masing-masing.

ada yang tersamar lukisan semburat merah matahari terbit, tergantung sempurna pada sisi pertama. ada yang cukup tersapu dengan cat tembok berwarna abu-abu. ada yang siap terpasang, namun paku terpalu tak tepat pada titiknya. ada yang menetap dengan tirai tipis berwarna putih.

dan setiap gelisah punya payung peneduhnya, genggaman jemari penenang, atau sepasang telinga yang selalu ada. setiap gelisah adalah hujan bukan badai, ketukan tak berirama pada lapis kaca di atas meja, dan cerita yang melingkar.


tuhan maha adil.

sebuah gelisah tak kan lahir, tanpa hembusan nafas yang memeluknya.
dan setiap hembusan nafas adalah pilihan untuk berserah pada kesadaran.


setiap dinding jiwa punya gelisahnya masing-masing.
dan tidak semua gelisah adalah tanya.

2015.

cita-cita dan jatuh cinta, memang hampir selalu tentang dan tidak jauh-jauh dari rumah.

adalah sebuah 

"bagaimana pun aku cinta padamu, bukan dengan sederet alasan, tapi lebih pada sederet walaupun"

.

memiliki rumah, memiliki tempat berpijak dengan segala keragu-raguan.

memiliki rumah, memiliki penjaga untuk kotak-kotak berumur tentang bagaimana hari ini menjadi.

memiliki rumah, memiliki lemari tempat menitipkan cita-cita.

memiliki rumah, memiliki sebuah tempat terjatuh yang teduh ketika tergelincir pada nama cinta.

. . .

menetapkan hati pada sebuah rumah,

adalah perjalanan panjang setitik rasa yang bertumbuh melewati batasan semesta.

.

2015.

sepenggal jalur untuk ditapaki sebaik-baiknya.

satu tahun yang baik,

seperti setiap yang sudah lalu,

sebagaimana pada mereka cita-cita lahir dan bertumbuh, cinta jatuh dan berdiri.

ps : 

i'm hoping to being done with all the greed. 
this year will be a nice one. and that's beyond enough :)

a script on another might be about falling in love.

2015.

there's gonna be a lot notes about falling in love.

maybe it's still not the time.
maybe the time has already passed, who knew?
maybe it's about the wrong person,
maybe, or maybe, it's about the wrong time.

maybe, it's just the wrong side of heart,
a wrong side of soul.

maybe there's time difference in how our heart flips.
maybe there's a split screen on how our feelings being unmutual.
maybe there's an undo button right before the love fell from sky.

maybe the story starts in an imaginary parallel universe, if there's one.

.
it might, however, also be the exact time.
the destined one on the destined time.
with the right side of heart and soul.

it might, as well, that time difference was just about a perspective.
the split screen didn't even valid as reasons, as they were not virtual.
and an undo button, was just, as much, not needed.

because love falls against all prerequisites,
and those include another opened heart to catch.

catatan tertinggal, 2014.

rotasi matahari tak pernah terlalu biasa,
tak ada jeda yang dapat tercuri darinya tak menjadikannya tak istimewa.

hanya sebuah hari yang berbalik
adalah sesederhana siang yang berganti layar dengan malam.

demikian pula dengan hari ini dan esok.

cerita pagi.

akhir-akhir ini hati berhenti bercerita.
mungkin ia kehabisan peristiwa,
atau sekadar lupa cara bertutur yang biasa,
atau bisa jadi sedang hilang denyutnya.

lembar-lembar putih kembang kempis.
menjadikan garis-haris hitam seakan meliuk,
mengikuti irama sebentang hening yang mengaga di antaranya.
mereka haus momen terka alur yang mengikuti sebaris cerita.


lalu pagi menggeliat,
rengkuhan malam tetaplah kepompong nyaman yang tak ada banding.
namun ada yang sedikit berbeda dari embun hari ini.

pagi pun bangun,
tergesa kukira.
sampai lupa ia menyibak tirai dan mengambil kacamata.
semua karena waktu yang berdiri tenang di depan pintu.
membawa sekarung cerita

teruntuk pagi.

sebelum bulan tenggelam.

aku rindu padamu,
tentu saja. juga pada percakapan tanpa henti
tentang berapa keping dimensi yang mengelilingin rasa.

sebentar lagi, ada tahun yang beranjak
mungkin membawa rindu padamu,
atau mungkin meninggalkannya telanjang bulat begitu ia mejejakkan kaki keluar hati.


aku rindu padamu,
tentu saja. juga pada surat-surat tak berbalas
tentang betapa waktu menggigit pelan-pelan tali-tali mimpi yang belum bersimpul.

sebentar lagi, ada bulan yang tenggelam
mungkin membawa surat-surat balasan hingga karam
atau mungkin menjadikan mereka binar-binar cahaya purnama
yang tak sempat dipinjamnya dari matahari.

sebelum bulan tenggelam,
biar kubisikkan padamu setetes rindu yang menyublim
"selamat pagi, wahai pengurai simpul mimpi"

when one door is closed,

don't forget

there're couples of windows to break through.

it's much different, though, whether you want to break out or to break in.

[notes] november.

november,
it's sure a hard work cleaning all these mess left by october,
the one i never thought would be among my worst months.

november,
all i ever need was a clear blue sky,
as clear as honesty.
and a red sunsets over the bridge,
as bright as being bold.

november,
again i learnt it the hard way :
for good needs a real good plan,
and much to countless disappointment.


ps : never get too used to disappointment, deal with it each and every time, differently, progressively, like a real lady. disappointments are not to be ignored. let it have the way to make you grow.