April 6. 2020

 if only, i could pick of what things better remain as memories, i would choose your every companion. with your eyes fixing on your work, with your words, never really answering to my preaches and carps, but still... you stayed. 

He came, with an extra slice of mocha nougat roll-cake.

"I thought it wouldn't be enough, but it's big and i paid two already..."  his hand moved, putting the wooden tray on the table, first, placing the cake beside my glass of vanilla latte. 

"a treat." he added.

i observed how he took a seat, putting of his coat, taking out his phone and put it upside-down on the table. He didn't look worried that he shared a table with a stranger. At last, he finally was crashing concentrated on his tablet's screen.

"do you always come here? for a vanilla latte?" he finally realized my presence.

"mm... it's two-cents cheaper than anywhere else." 

he laughed.

and stopped, when watching me picking out the nuts.

"you enjoy the cake that way?" he asked 

"why?"

"eat the cake..."

"i will... slowly."  

how could i finish this so hastily, i value this so heartily. i got retribution-- for waiting over almost like a decade-- to see you...

 October 17, 2019

He's just another man -- the only special he owned was, he would sit across me with his both ears ready for long preaches and ratting. Just another man, who would respond my elated or agitated expression with  the same smile, or if he was being generous--a little chuckle.

 August 17, 2019

Between cries and struggles...

Dear my dear self, you'll finally arrive in a world you never expected before.

You'll finally realize that, it's a good thing to not give up in the beginning, in the middle, up to the end.

You'll see yourself, in a very proud way, that you've finally able to conquer and strive.

I have never felt my self as not okay as these days.

Everything passed in indiscernible way.

In every morning runs, late night crams, and sleep deprived in the mid-day, it's hard to find the right rhythm.

But, hey-- it would get better soon.

I would find my self being happy and enjoying these tortures.

August 10, 2019

 

an-Americano between nights.

Through any transpicuous windows, the crowds of lamps failed to call you in.

and, how much time more I'll have to wait for us to cross?


Dear universe,

I am waiting for his shadow to pass by.

Let me count, if possible,

The days passed so fast that I might not care of how much times wasted.

For you, an-americano between rains in April.


"He came alone, yesterday, only for a quick take out." this lady behind the counter said as she gave me back my card.

"Who?"

"the owner of that parasol. in your bag, miss..." she replied with smile.

"Really? I can leave this to you? he might come back, he might need it anytime soon."

I, of course wouldn't need her answer to take out the umbrella from my bag.

But the door's bell rang, breaking the silence between us.


"Evening..." the lady greeted a person behind me that automated my neck to more than 90 degrees turn around.

Brown coat.

He. is...

that americano-man.



I raised my hand awkwardly, showing his umbrella right in front of his head.


"Oh?"

He noticed his stuff, right?

"Vanilla? Latte?"

God. his voice traveled to my heart and spur my AV-nodes harshly, rudely. I thought I might faint.

I stepped aside and just nodded foolishly.

"How fortunate, this umbrella would go home, finally." I handed it to him.

"Thank you, what a coincidence."

No-- you rude man, I am waiting for like a decade. No such a thing like coincidence. I disagreed.

I have been waiting for every chance I got to land my ass here, only for a slight hope that I might have a brief companion for a glass of vanilla latte.

"Wait-- I'll place my order."

I frowned that he suddenly stopped me when I was about to walk to my seat.

He peeped through above my head. "Ah, you'll sit there?"

I hummed.

His head turned back to his phone and paid his americano. So what? At least, talk! will you sit with me or how? Geez-- man! That's how rude man is!

The window-seat was the witness, of how we met in one cold rainy day, in April.

People were coming and passing by, but I couldn't find you.

 

But god pushed you here, to pick your umbrella see me, thank you for coming mr. americano.

 December 6, 2018

I have been away and trapped my self inside my cube. 

The worst thing I got, your last warm smile lingering in my mind.

Damn! I was betrayed again, by the ticking time. 

You just wouldn't take that smile away, the envenoming memory of how sweet he could be.

The rains pouring every night, watering my longing for every single you in my memories.

it's raining lightly outside.

featuring Sam Kim's Seattle. 

November 29, 2018

 

 

We met in early april, and I kept passing that same path way home with your very own umbrella. I wished I would be able to shake your hand at least, for thanking you letting me hid under your umbrella.

You looked hurt that day.

You held your anger with your cold americano in rains.

Coffee isn't calming for some reasons, dear mr. americano in brown coat. I would treat you to a glass of vanilla latte once we meet again, at least a latte, to comfort your uneasiness. 

I was waiting you at the same seat we sat on that day. I was bringing my own book, Great Gatsby. But I couldn't concentrate onto every classic words I read. I kept wanting to look up whenever the door was opened, hoping that you might stop by.

You.

You were the unfamiliar feelings lingered around my heartbeat.

You were butterflies tickling me inside. 

You, might be the sweetest americano I know, even now. 

October 9, 2018

September 15, 2018

Reading this Novel-like Autobiography was a challenge at first. Despite my curiosity about politics, I am also in a position between skeptic and apathetic. This four hundreds thick of papers is written by a politician from a government side, Budiman Sudjatmiko (Partai Demokrat Indonesia Perjuangan).

During this second time of reading, i read and tried to discern every words into pieces of depiction and arrange it in the end to see what's the big picture I portray after a week of battle between slumber and cats in my head. This agenda of re-read the book is also a part of my way to learn about Indonesia, in terms of politics. 

I was as bewitched as the first time when I got this book as my 17th birthday gift from my sister and read this. Through very eloquent words, Budiman Sudjatmiko presented an explicit picture of how thrilling it was, since the beginning, fighting off people with power, dominance, arms, and faint consciences. There's this section entitled "Cakar-Cakar Kekuasaan" which straight-forwardly herd me into a gripping moments when Budiman Sudjatmiko and his fellow partisan were pursued and tortured by the regime's henchmen (Soeharto Era).

The story rises from Budiman Sudjatmiko's childhood. Where he lived in Majenang, surrounded by the inevitable bitter reality of people lived in poverty. Where he started contriving his idealistic toward democracy and prosperity. From a quiet night which let him to witness a suicide of Mbah Dimin, an old man who decided to lose and surrendered from life, from vicious destitution which introduced him to loan sharks.

"The reality, they couldn't help Mbah Dimin when he was alive, when he was in debt. They only showed their compassion after he was found dead. They gave him tribute and honor in his funeral, reading him forced obituaries and burning incense. I believe that they respect a body because they refused to help the living humbly."

How am I supposed to say it? Sometimes we reason and make excuses, that we are in no better condition to help. And I do this, at times.

Budiman Sudjatmiko embellished his story with little-or-much quotations and phrases from related books to support and justify his notions. From these, I envy him so much for spending most of his time being curious and searching the world. He is a passionate reader and spirited politician since young. Reading Anak-anak Revolusi was like jumping between books and journals, also as if I were a bench where he tried to explain every words said by an elaborated sources of facts, views of others, and fixed theories. Budiman Sudjatmiko provides his reasoning of how he perceived things.

More than glorifying his abundant of excruciating experiences or dramatizing every affliction, he wrote the flow in a good manner, where I could imagine how the kid Budiman Sudjatmiko grew onto an awkward adolescent, fledged onto a half-mature man until he finally immersed completely into practical politics during his college study.  

In the last few pages, Budiman Sudjatmiko depictured his life as a political prisoner, the life of some "democracy fighters" from a secluded penitentiary striving their vision, steering the movement and battle from inside.

Besides, life was never been so much fun without love story.

Budiman Sudjatmiko met by his very first lover and loved one in an unfathomable moment. That was a tickle between cries, a rose in a wild-wood. Beautiful.

September 9, 2018

Jika ada sesuatu yang terkadang mengusikmu, aku harap itu bukan kiriman umpatan jarak jauh dariku. Karena aku tak bisa untuk diam saja, membiarkanmu merebut dan menempati setiap petak lobus memoriku.

Musim hujan akan segera datang dalam beberapa minggu ke depan. Hujan juga sudah mulai sering singgah dan membawa angin beserta riuhnya pesta gumul-gumul awan abu-abu. Kemudian hatiku akan menjadi kusut sedikit demi sedikit karena terdesak kenangan yang akan sering mampir di sela jendela dan hujan. Kusut masih bukan masalah, tapi bila kusut kemudian terberai rindu yang terelakkan? Aku tidak tahu harus berbuat apa lagi.

Semakin rindu, tetapi aku semakin tak ingin bertemu.

Beberapa bulan lalu, di senja yang hangat, aku harap itu akan menjadi kenangan terakhir untuk beberapa waktu ini. Artinya, aku masih belum mau bertatap lagi dalam keadaan bingung seperti ini. 

Aku telah menyelesaikan sebagian besar urusanku, kemudian setelah lama aku tak pernah rindu sehebat ini, tiba-tiba di satu bagian otakku, di bagian parietal kanan dan kiri otakku, di mana aku menyimpan namamu, wajahmu, dan cerita tentangmu, tiba-tiba seperti kebanjiran dan meluap-luap.

Aku masih bingung harus berkata dan berbuat apa. 

Aku pikir aku telah lupa atau setidaknya hilang rasa.

Tapi ternyata kemarin-kemarin, aku hanya sesaat merasa hampa.