in memoriam

kucing betina jelek itu melangkah sembari memandangi rumahku. mungkin
ia heran mengapa hanya ada aku di sini. ya, aku tahu. aku sendirian
sekarang. istriku mati beberapa hari yang lalu. pergilah! ia berlalu.

perempuan
itu memandangi rumahku. bolu kukus dikunyahnya. ia merasa ada yang
aneh. ia melihatku sendiri. aku ingin ia mendekat. sudah lama sekali ia
tak menyapaku. ia mendekati rumahku. ia mencari-cari sesuatu di bagian
atas rumahku. ya, aku tahu. istriku. kau tidak akan menemukannya di
sana. ia mati beberapa hari yang lalu.

kok tinggal satu, ia bertanya.

ya, perempuannya mati sudah lama, jawab wanita yang sedang menyiangi bayam di samping rumahku.

ia
menatapku iba. jangan menatapku seperti itu. aku menatapnya. ia
menyuapkan sepotong kecil bolu kukusnya. aku menyambutnya. sudah lama
kami tidak seperti ini. aku tidak tahu apakah ia menyayangiku atau
bahkan mencintaiku. mungkin dulu, sekarang tidak lagi. aku selalu
menyambut uluran jari-jarinya. aku tidak tahu mengapa dulu istriku
begitu takut padanya. mungkin istriku takut karena ia begitu berbeda.
ia hanya ingin bersahabat dengan kami. ia tidak ingin menyakiti kami.
istriku takut mempercayai itu.

perempuan itu menerawang. ia
kembali menatapku. masih menatapku iba. jangan kau pandangi aku seperti
itu, perempuan. aku tak apa-apa. aku tahu istriku tidak lagi bersamaku.
sumpah, aku sudah tidak bersedih lagi. sepi, memang, tapi si kucing
betina itu masih sering duduk sambil menjilati bulu-bulunya yang
berkutu di depan rumahku. sepasang kura-kura bertempurung hitam itu
juga terkadang menghampiri rumahku meski hanya untuk mendongak. aku
tidak sendirian. asal kau masih setia mengulurkan sesuatu melalui
jari-jarimu itu. sesekali.

being sok sibuk, i didn’t realize that the green lovebird passed away few days ago.

on myth, legend, and hypocrisy

Being on the second day of muharram
He opened a conversation asking about the empress of the south sea
She replied with a story she claimed to be true
I didn’t even bother to set an ear at first
I vaguely caught the earlier part of it
It was in the eighties and on batu hiu pangandaran
When a shark which i more likely to believe as a whale from her description was stranded
People believed that it was the empress’ ride
They were afraid of her and command themselves to obey all the superstitious rules
Yet, they apparently care shit about that poor fish or mammal if it were infact a whale
They slaughtered it and took the meat
Mimi told us that the meat would make a terrific oil
I become more certain that it was a whale
I become all ears and condemned those beasts
I imagine that poor whale hyperventilating while people sliced its body parts
Cruel. Brute. Bastard.
Then a vivid image of me all modern and call crap of all the things i can’t see
digesting baby shark meat that i refer to as delicious but a bit too salty
That was approximately less than two years ago in Jogja
Hmmm...
And the hypocrit would be...

yoohoo!

i’m sick of the mouse scroll button. the joy of browsing on the
internet doesn’t rush my adrenaline anymore. i just don’t feel like
clicking the mouse left button. opening e-mail is no longer fun.
viewing profiles on friendster or posting blogs bored me. i don’t even
want to let my fingers caressing the keyboard.

what i feel like
doing is to lay on your chest. feeling it go up and down in a constant
pace. listening to your heartbeat. inhaling the scent of cool water for
men. putting my arms around your waist. and letting my tears go down my
cheeks and soak your over an age polo shirt. while your chin is placed
on top of my head. your left hand harassing my hair and your right hand
squeezing my left arm. just that without any vocal chords interrupting.
without you even gasping an ‘hmmm...’

this time i want you to
listen to me. i want you to hear me sniff. i want you to feel my grief.
i don’t want you the way you were when i did it while you’re driving. i
don’t want you giving me the
she-needs-her-space-now-and-i’m-just-gonna-let-her-cool-off-beside-i-have-to-pay-attention-on-the-road
scheme. i need you not to ignore me.

i don’t even know why i
put up with you afterall these times. while in fact you’ve been nothing
but thinking about yourself. you know i will always spare an ear, a
mind and a heart for you anytime. i long for the day when you would
really listen to all the things i went through. you don’t have to
comment just listen carefully with your ears, and your mind and your
heart. when you say i don’t understand you, try to understand me.

i’m
sick of the things going on and off of my life. the least thing i could
use is that you got sick of your life, especially of the one concerning
me.