Sepiring Berdua.

Bagi dia, bagi dua. Tambah lagi 1 telor dadar, pakai garam agak banyak. Bayar setengah harga, dia bilang tidak usah. Berdoa pada Tuhan yang sama. Caraku begini dia begitu. Tuhan, semoga makanan ini menyehatkan untuk jiwa raga kami, Amin. Piring di tengah meja, makan sambil lirik-lirik ke mata. Lalu ada tawa tentang lagu-lagu remaja, yang didiskusikan berlarut-larut lewat suapan nasi. Bagaimana pekerjaannya, apa yang dia rasa, siapa yang dia temu. Aku dan temanku, aku dan hariku, aku dan musikku yang dia tidak paham. Karakter dan figuran hidup yang sama-sama kita benci. Dia makan tomat, aku makan ketimun dua. Abisin, biar jodohnya gak jerawatan, sambil tunjuk nasi di setengah lingkar piringnya pakai sendokku. Dia lihat wajahku dengan alis bertaut, mata memicing. Jerawatan, dia bilang. Sepiring berdua. Tidak ada sebutir nasi yang sisa. Supaya jodohnya (aku dan kamu) jangan ada yang jerawatan. 


Ada semoga dalam cegukan dan perut kekenyangan. Semoga yang kamu tau apa.

Capricorns.

It's in my traits, you know. To constantly hope for the best, but expecting the worst. I have seen so much people, how they speak about love. Of course, it might have so many different interpretations for each and everyone of them. Because just like God, you recognize love and its existence, in your experience of encountering it. What I see is that love is never a guarantee. You might say you love someone, but who knows your body needs more than just love itself? I'm not saying that loving someone should always be about touching and physical contact, but hey it's true! How many times have you seen someone said, 'I love you', yet they keep looking for others temporarily. 'You're my forever,' they'd say, 'they're nothing, they are just them. You will always be you,' Bull-shit. Like being in love was never enough. Like love was an excuse to go back home after years of wild adventures when you had nothing to eat anymore. Like people actually some kind of need the distraction. It's a human nature. I've seen it: I've seen lots and lots of unfaithfulness, and how they somehow made me stop hoping for love. That's actually the reason why I know, I'll never find one.

I keep it to myself all this time. Because I'm still some kind of hoping that maybe someday I will. Life's a bitch, you know. You want something, it won't give you any, or yes it will, but a little too late. You hate something, it would keep coming back like an itch on your back. Now that I think about it, I think I've found it out since I was a little girl already. I used to forcefully suggest my mind the counter-point of a fact, because I was sure as fuck what will happen is the other side of the statements I've made. It buried deep down inside of me, and I've been carrying it all along. Now that I grew up and I want something, I will forcefully suggesting, that I won't get that. It's like a hopeless kind of faith, a kind-of-shy form of expectation. Maybe being with you are one of the case.

Mom asked me about you. I told her you were nothing. She doubted me. So I also told her that in fact I won't find love again in the future. She told me to watch my mouth. And right after I said it out loud, I cried so hard. I don't even know why I'm scared. Maybe because deep down I thought I can't wait any longer for it to happen otherwise. But also maybe, just maybe, because I knew, it is somehow true.



P.S : I'm not kidding, though. About love isn't always about physical thing. Because I've been kissed, and hugged, and made love with by you, without you even touching me. It made me believe that one day when we finally kissed, it won't be your lips that I'd taste. It's your soul.



Of course I should tell everybody otherwise or else it won't happen. Right?

Questions.

"Why are you so quite?" 

I don't know. That's how people read me. I become quite when I got sad, or mad, or when I got so much in mind. I don't know. I visit places I've ever been with you, alone. I thought I've missed the place. Like being homesick for so long until my head hurts. It's not. Fuck.

"Why are we keep hurting each other like this?"

I don't know. Maybe it's our rhythm, maybe it suits us best without we even realize it. Maybe that's what we do best, you know? To hurt each other's feelings and pretend to be okay. Like it is supposed to be. 

"Why are you crying?" 

I don't know. Because it's not that I miss the place, I realized this wasn't homesick, this was way even worse. It's just I'm so sick of wanting so much to see you but I couldn't.

An entry to Amos.

Suppose this was a love letter.

Hi. I just wanted to let you know that when I told you I loved you, I'm deadly serious over the phrase. With all flesh and bones.. I never thought it'd be this deep, though. And most of all, I don't know it would hurt like this. I wanted to know if you meant it, when you said you loved me too. Because I couldn't stop my heart from skipping a beat. I wanted you to know that you had contagious smile, a kind of smile that would calm down a war inside of me. Like when I was having a bad day, or the shittiest part of life so far, but then you said Hi, and smiled like that.. it's a healing, you know.. You're the healer. 

Suppose you read this,

I don't mean to push. I just wanna see you. Like, constantly. And I'm sorry for being so cheesy, or gigantically melancholic, or annoying you big time through all of my acts. You know where to find me. You always knew. I love you, Tevinstein. Say it right back. And for the rest of the world, I swear, I'd be just fine getting along not talking to you as much.


You're so enough.

Kuburan Mimpi

Aku berjalan suatu malam di kuburan mimpi. 'Selamat jalan', begitu tulisan di papan kayunya. Aku pikir mungkin harusnya 'Selamat datang' karena toh aku datang kesini, bukan? Aku tengok sana-sini, bukan karena penasaran tapi karena dingin hawa putus asa. Lalu aku lihat nisan baru, 'disini terbaring, Sang Penulis.' Akhir-akhir ini banyak mimpi baru yang mati, semakin hari semakin penuh dengan subjek atau karakter yang terdengar asing. Tanah basah, mungkin habis hujan aku pun tak tahu. Kulihat anak kecil di ujung pintu, berjalan menenteng sayap patahnya sambil menangis, dengan kedua jarinya yang seperti gunting. Mimpinya baru saja ia kubur. Mungkin orang tuanya ingin ia beli mimpi lain, yang lebih baru, lebih kaya, atau lebih besar. Ada lagi nisan ini: tua sekali seperti purba. Banyak lumut hijau tumbuh menutupi ukiran namanya. Di sekelilingnya tidak ada bunga, mungkin tidak ada yang peduli lagi padanya, mungkin terlalu lama sampai pemiliknya mati. Kasihan sekali mimpi satu ini. Aku jadi penasaran, siapa namanya? 'Kemanusiaan. Semoga beristirahat dengan tenang.'

Lalu ada blok-blok yang lebih tinggi, tempat yang lebih tidak terjamah. Pohon beringin seperti petua raksasa penjaga nisan dengan sulurnya yang seperti jenggot kebijaksanaan. Sudut ini tempat orang menguburkan mimpinya yang paling kelam, paling jauh, atau paling ingin dilupakan. Aku duduk bersila di depan nisan, menyanyikan senandung bahagia agar hatiku tidak sesedih ini. Edelweis di tangan kanan, cangkul di tangan kiri. Setengah mati berperang dengan akal sehat untuk mengorek kembali bangkai tak nyata dari mimpiku yang ini. Tanganku akrab dengan ukirannya, yang punya jejak menyenangkan sewarna kulitku. Terima kasih atas kematianmu, sayang. Oleh karenamu, mimpi lain tumbuh seperti jamur. Mereka tidak pernah lebih besar dari dirimu. Meski demikian, ada gema yang hampa dan bergaung, yang tak henti-hentinya menggemakanmu di seluruh ruang kosong tubuhku.

'Untuk lelaki terbaik dalam hidup wanitanya, namamu.'

Gerimis dalam E Minor.

"Aku pernah memimpikanmu suatu malam.
Aku melihatmu di hutan gelap, dikepung
pohon-pohon yang seakan tumbuh sejak purba.
Di tengah hutan itu kau sendirian, bergaun serba
putih, duduk memainkan piano. Tidak ada suara.
Lalu batang-batang pepohonan purba itu,
bagai tangan raksasa yang hitam, perlahan,
melahapmu. Aku tidak pernah menceritakan
mimpi ini kepadamu. Mungkin itulah yang
membedakan kita. Kau menyimpan rahasia,
aku menyimpan ketakutan. Mungkin
benar, kita dipertemukan bukan untuk
kebahagiaan, tetapi untuk saling
menguatkan."


Agus Noor.