Monday, March 27, 2017

crossed path.

And there she is, smiling. Holding her pieces altogether, at last. She knows this is for the best.
She knows your path and hers crossed for a reason. Nothing ever happened without reason. And this is hers: you came exactly when she thought she was incapable of love. She thought the world was incapable of love. And so were men. But you proved her wrong; no, the world wasn't as dark as you think it was.
In a way, without even realizing that, you helped her. She stumbled upon the path she's in now but she got back again, steadier than before. She's picking up the shattered pieces she ignored the night before; since she planned to go on with a hole in her chest. But this time she changed her mind; she's gonna bring those pieces. Because those pieces, no matter how badly broken they are, they're part of her. They're her lesson.
You don't know this; but thank you. Yes, you and her won't be a story; a story with happy ending, at least. Maybe this is the last bit of your crossed paths because you both have been broken badly, and choosing to keep crossing path would lead you to another brokenness. Maybe you both are playing this safe; it's okay. At least, she knows now.
She knows how to love again.

Sunday, March 26, 2017

Idiot -the good kind, tho.

She has it in her hand, a piece of you. She goes out of the door, humming. Holding you close to her heart. It's been a while since the weather feels this nice; it's really been a while. And there she is, smiling. Like an idiot. People are staring, but she just doesn't care. Everything else is a blur. Every other noises have gone silenced. It's just her, and a piece of you inside her arms.

She wants to bury her head inside the warmth of your embrace;
She wants to hear your deep, calming voice.
You made her lost few hours of sleep, without you're realizing
But she's fine with that. At least, she wasn't crying.

She was smiling.

She has it in her hand, a piece of you. Smells so brand new. She's ready to drown herself inside your poetic glances, she knows she's being adventureous but if that results in the idiotic smile she has right now -she doesn't mind, at all.

Friday, March 24, 2017

Bekas Luka.

Orang bilang, luka yang tidak kelihatanlah yang paling membekas. Yang tidak bisa disembuhkan oleh waktu. Bahkan oleh cinta yang baru sekalipun, mungkin hanya mampu memudarkan luka itu menjadi sebuah gambar tak berwarna yang tersimpan rapi didasar laci; hanya dilihat karena ketidaksengajaan, lalu ketika laci itu disurukkan masuk, lukanya tidak terasa lagi.

Kukira begitu.

Tapi luka ini ada, nyata. Aku melihatnya setiap pagi; seberapa kerasnya usahaku untuk tidak melihatnya, lukanya tetap ada disana. Mengejekku, seolah mengingatkanku akan kebodohanku dimasa lalu. Kebodohanku menyerahkan seutuhnya hidup dan cintaku untuk orang yang sama sekali salah. Orang yang pada akhirnya membuangku ke tempat sampah. Luka itu seolah pengingat, lihat, betapa naifnya dirimu. Betapa bodohnya.

Bagaimana rasanya menurutmu, punya luka yang kelihatan; luka yang tidak akan pernah hilang, luka yang akan kamu bawa sampai matipun bekasnya tetap ada, jadi matipun percuma. Kamu bisa memegangnya, menyentuhnya, dan saat itu juga lukamu yang tidak kelihatan ikut menyerangmu. Ikut berusaha membunuhmu. Luka yang akan ada entah itu di masa lalu, masa sekarang, maupun masa depanmu.

Entah sampai kapan; aku juga lelah melihatnya.

Tuesday, March 21, 2017

Berdamailah; dengan apapun.

Terkadang, saat kita lemah, Tuhan tidak mengirimkan pelukan. Yang Dia kirimkan malah orang dengan masalahnya dan membutuhkan kita. Membutuhkan kita untuk menguatkan; untuk memberikan berkat.
Bersyukurlah :)
Itu jauh lebih baik daripada sekadar pelukan. Jauh lebih baik daripada kamu yang dikuatkan. Karena kamu bermegah dalam kelemahanmu dan kuasaNya yang bekerja saat kamu memberkati orang lain dengan itu.

Kita bisa menguatkan karena kita bisa merasakan penderitaan orang lain. Kata yang memberkati bukan hanya kata yang sekadar terucap; tetapi kata-kata yang lahir dari empati. Mungkin kamu baru saja mencegah orang bunuh diri; siapa yang tahu?

Jangan pernah menolak orang yang membutuhkan penguatan dari kamu.

Dia berkata, "bisa melewatkan satu hari dengan baik-baik saja adalah sebuah kemewahan buatku." dan aku menangis. Bukan karena kata-katanya sedih, tetapi karena aku tahu rasanya. Karena aku juga disana.

Ketika aku mengira aku sudah baik-baik saja, lalu Dia mengujinya dengan cara menumpahkan alkohol di sekujur tubuhku untuk mencari tahu apa aku memang sudah benar-benar sembuh.
Dan ternyata masih banyak bagian yang luka.

Begitulah caraNya. Sakit. Tapi kita tahu. Dan Dia tahu. Tidak sekadar tahu saja, Dia sembuhkan.

Kamu mungkin pernah berpikir ingin mati. Dan aku tidak akan mencemoohmu; percayalah, aku tahu rasanya. Aku tahu seberapa berat usaha untuk melawan keinginan mengambil sebuah pisau dan menorehkannya di pergelangan tangan; atau bahkan menghunuskannya langsung tepat di jantung. Betapa berat menahan dirimu ketika melihat seutas tali; atau ketika berada di tempat tinggi; atau ketika berada di jalan raya, dan keinginan untuk menabrakkan dirimu muncul begitu saja.
Atau, ketika kamu seorang pengecut dan ingin mati, usahamu adalah membeli berlusin-lusin obat tidur dan ingin pergi tanpa rasa sakit.

Aku tidak akan mengejekmu; aku ingin memelukmu dan menangis, dan mengatakan, aku tahu rasanya. Bahkan dadaku sekarang sakit dan sesak untukmu, karena aku tahu rasanya. Kamu tidak sendiri.

Kalau sampai sekarang kamu belum mati, semesta punya akhir yang lebih baik untukmu. Percayalah.

Mati-ku kutumpahkan dalam doa dan tulisan. Dalam air mata dan kesesakan. Sudah lama rasanya tidak bernafas dengan lega. Tapi buktinya sekarang aku masih ada; masih bisa tersenyum, masih bisa menulis, masih bisa menguatkan orang lain. Mungkin orang tidak akan pernah tahu, seberat apa hidupku sampai aku ingin mati. Tapi biarkan saja mereka berspekulasi. Kalau mereka tahu, mereka akan mengerti. Memang orang yang tidak tahu, akan jauh lebih mudah mencemooh. Jadi, sabarlah.

Tujuanku sekarang sudah bukan bahagia.
Tujuanku juga tidak sesederhana baik-baik saja.

Aku ingin berdamai; dengan apapun.
Hidupku, masa laluku, dosa-dosaku.
Orang yang menyakitiku; orang yang "membunuhku". Ingatanku, kekasih barunya.
Aku ingin berdamai dengan rasa sakit itu. Aku memaafkannya, terlepas usahanya setiap hari untuk membunuhku.

Karena aku tahu, rasa sakit itu tidak akan pernah hilang. Dia akan tetap ada disana; mengintaiku. Menunggu saat terlemahku sebelum akhirnya dia bisa mengambil nyawaku.

Tapi aku bisa berteman dengannya; dan tidak lagi memberinya kekuatan untuk membunuhku.

Karena aku akan bahagia, dan aku akan terluka. Tetapi selama aku berdamai,
--aku ada.

Monday, March 20, 2017


Once again, you found yourself in an unfamiliar place. New faces, new cafe, new taste of coffee. But this time, you know you're not lost.

You sit alone in the terrace, sipping warm coffee. Your journal is opened in front of you, all blank pages, waiting to be written on. You smile out of nowhere, your hand reach out for pen and you start writing. This place's ambience is great; you sit under a roof of leaves and flowers and it feels as tough they give you a protection, from the sun's heat and the rain's coldness. And a nice breeze in between.
Just then; a deep voice is filling the air you left silence before. Usually, you would ignore these kind of voices. But again new places always bring new feeling towards a lot of things, including voices.

"You're too beautiful to be sad alone."

You look up and see a new face. But this time, it feels familiar. So you smile. "Why so? I'm not allowed to be sad?"

He returns your smile with a curve, which is slightly better than yours. "No, I said that you shouldn't be sad alone. May I join you? I bring coffee for an offering," just then you realized he has a cup of coffee in his hands.

"Be my guest, then. Offering accepted."

He grins; as he puts that cup of coffee in front of you, he sees your writing. "So you write."

"Yes; that way I won't commit suicide."

He raises one of his eyebrow. "Why so? Life's got you broken badly?"

"Not just broken, I think. It's better being broken; even shapeless and used bottles are still wanted by some. But the lost kind; not everyone bothers to go looking for them."

"So you're lost."
"Oh, the story's gonna take a whole day to tell."
"I've got a whole day."

You're stuck in his gaze. Deep, warm, offers honesty rather than lust. At first you think you're not gonna let yourself get hooked again, but as weak as you are, you choose to trust your instict. To let yourself.

You close your journal and move your glance to the empty air in front of you. Everything becomes a blur and you're ready to have your story told. The funny thing is, this stranger has so much power to make your self sinks in his curiosity.

"Life's got everyone broken but with different patterns. Some are left like broken glasses and it's still beautiful, somehow. Some are restored. But some are just demolished into the first form before creation; dusts.
I was in the third state for quite a long time.
Have you ever met someone who's good at wearing her face? She's smiling like nothing happened; but deep inside she wants to end her life so badly. She just wants every pains to come to an end as quickly as possible; and there's no other choice.
It's as tough you're in the edge of a dark, deep forest. You have no choice but to move forward, because you've burned the bridges behind you with a hope that the fire would light your way. But no; the fire just simply a reminder that there are people who just don't want you in their lives. A solid proof. It just makes the forest even darker.
And you're too shameful to pray; to ask for a help from above. You've been neglecting Them for too long, and this is your reward, or so you thought.
But They full of love. They love lost people because They are able to save them. Sometimes They're as kind as shredding densed tree's leaves above you to send some lights;
To help you see your path.

And that light, for me, was to write.

I write so I don't commit suicide."

He's been quiet the whole time you talked. He gazed into the depth of your words; one by one he listened very carefully. He feels something about your sadness; the beautiful kind of sad. As if you're able to bring him into your stories, even he feels the water comes down from the dense leaves to the nape of your head.

"You're not from here, are you?" he asks.
"No. I'll be leaving tomorrow."

So that's one thing about a meeting; you've got to be prepared to say goodbye. He feels tight on his throat; he doesn't want you to leave as much as he wants to know the next part of your story. He clears his throat as he gathers the courage to ask you one thing, which is:
"Would I be seeing you again?"

You know the story doesn't end here.

Saturday, March 18, 2017

Back again.

Jogja, March 18, 2017.
here, I'm back again, alone this time. In a city full of memories but the funny thing was I didn't reminisce a thing.
just a sign, maybe, that I've made peace with my past. With whatever happened the morning before I went here; the name I didn't want to see or hear or read again suddenly came up out of nowhere, and I was quite shaken.
but that's just another way of universe telling me,
it's about time, dee.
so here I am. I came in peace, and to make peace with my past, Jogja. So I won't feel my lungs got suffocated again.

Tuesday, March 14, 2017

Menulislah, dan jangan bunuh diri.

People are so full of judgement these days. Maybe I was, too. But once we've been places we've never been before, it gives us things to think about. Things we used to hate; things we used to despise; things we used to mock about, once we've got through it, our minds were cleared. We're able to see it from different perspective. And for me, this time it'd be about suicide.
I used to be a very optimistic person. I saw everything from the bright side and usually just ignored the bad. Being suicidal had never crossed my mind, no matter how broken I was. But turned out the brokenness I felt in my past was nothing compared to this new brokenness.
Never thought before, that I'd get hurt so bad I just wanted to die, literally.
Everytime the memories strike, the hurts come like hurricane inside my chest. I couldn't bear it. I couldn't bear the fact that someone was able to hurt others until that other people ever had a thought to die. No. A person couldn't be that mean. But as hurt as it got, I had to learn that the hard way, yes, a person like that does exist in this world. A person who's willing to hurt others so badly for their own good.
I've been trying to end my life so many times, before this. I have tried to go to a rooftop of an apartment before; but I didn't have enough courage to do that. I was still afraid of the pain. I imagined myself to be involved in an accident; but that didn't happen. And the last and safest thing I could ever think about was sleeping pills. So I bought tons of it. But somehow, I was afraid, too. What comes after this? What comes after I end my life? What if I don't find peace even after I die? Maybe my insanity didn't come as strong as my concious mind. And maybe, the prayers of people around me are way stronger than my will to die.
Until I found that phrase, somewhere I forgot.
dan jangan bunuh diri."
So here I am. Writing, almost everyday. Almost about everything. Poems, silly heart-pouring sessions, songs, everything.
And maybe that's one way to be slowly healed.

Most of the time, everytime we read a news about a person committed suicide, we would have this reaction: what the hell were they thinking about? Are they stupid? And so on.
But no. It's more than just a stupidity. It's more.
Mental depression is not something you can joke about. It's an illness. I once laughed and mocked my friend because she was taking an anti-depressan pills; but now I understand that she was just trying to save herself. To survive. And I laughed at her effort to stay alive; what a foolish being I was.
Because I've been through that phase on my own, I learned that we have to be kind, always. No exception. Everyone deserves our kindness, no matter how badly they've hurt us. Be the light to lighten up this dark, dark world. That's my reminder, in these unkind days. To be kind. Because maybe out there, the person you talk to is going through a difficult time. She even might have tried to end her life the night before. Your words could save her life, or could bring her down. So be kind with your words... Speak blessings. Forgive. And pray.
Suicide isn't something we can joke about. People whoever thought about commiting suicide, are people who need our kindness the most.

Monday, March 6, 2017

my window of inspiration.

There's no spesific things that inspire me; to me, you can find inspiration basically anywhere as long as you open up to see more, to know more. Even the sound of tires screeching can be a source of inspiration to a composer. But of course, when the tap of inspiration of mine is kinda stuck, there are some things or people that I can count on. And here, is the list.

Of course, music comes first for me. When I took some phsycological test to find out our talents, I got highest score for musical which is kinda weird to me because I'd never make a career out of it (Heaven knows, tho). But talents are not just about careers and earning money, but it's about doing what you love and what you're really passionate about. Sometimes I wrote songs, but always feel inadequate enough to call those as songs, let alone publishing it. But never let fear stops you from doing things you love.
Music speaks in a way we could never really understand. Even when you can't understand the lyrics, music still has something magical in carrying your soul to another dimension. When I want to write sad things, I listen to indie musics; you can find thousands of great indie songs on Youtube. My fave will always be The Narrative's Eyes Closed. When I feel like dancing, I listen to radio songs; I've been listening to Yellow Claw and BigBang nonstop these days. And when I want to just chill, writing things, doing my thesis or bullet journals, I'd just listen to some 60s song. I had REM - Losing My Religion and Beach House - Hearts of Chamber on repeat now. Before I go to sleep, I'd play a playlist consists of Hillsong's musics, and my faves as per now is Even When It Hurts.

Oh yes, watching movies can give you some inspirations, of course. I don't think this part needs further explanation. so I'd just mention my faves: La La Land (of course, duh), Dr. Strange (funny how some fantasy action movie can give so much inspiration to me, gonna write on a separate post about this movie), The Vow and 500 days of Summer.

Public Figure.
Youtube and Instagram are my greatest escapes (this is what I've been trying to manage with that seven days digital detox). I subscribed and followed people that can give sources of inspiration to me. On Instagram, my faves are Claradevi (@lucedaleco). She's like, my muse. Maybe if you compare her instagram feeds to mine (who am I tho lol) you'd get the same mood because yes, she's been inspiring me for too long now. She's the one who makes me feel it's okay to dress like my grandma and being called a grandma, even. She inspires me with her words, her writings, her views on things. But as much as she inspired me, I always try to add my own signature. That's what we do when we have a muse; their works are inspiring us; but as much as we love theirs, we would never copy their work. The other person is Gianni Fajri, I love her vibes.
On Youtube, I'm the member of notification squad of these people: Kittendust, Agung Hapsah, Jenn Im and Dodie Clark. They have different contents but they're freakingly inspiring! Kittendust taught me a lot about having different perspectives and how to have a sense of purpose in this life. Agung Hapsah is the golden boy; I adore smart men and he's one of those. Jenn Im, does this need any explanation? I don't think so. and Dodie Clark, for her amazing originals. She put her soul in every songs she wrote and she's just the cutest thing ever. (p.s you can click on each of their names to see their amazing work).

People Around.
I love to spare my time to hang out with people I love and listen to their stories. Most of the times, their stories inspire me. Sometimes it inspires me to make poems about encouraging those who are just as lost as I am; or maybe giving them some advices and then those advices got me thinking like hey this applies to me too. And thank God for giving me sister I never had, who I met back then in high school. We're growing up together, and now closer than ever because both of us are going through the same phase of finding out what's the exact purpose of our existence.

Bible's Scripture
Yes, of course. It's God's words Himself, it's almost impossible not to be inspired everytime I read them. And as for today, I have this spesific verse appeared inside my head: 2 Corinthians 10:5. "We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ."

I know, this list is very basic, but sometimes we're too focused on what's underrated that we forget to be back to basic things and find it there. I hope my list can also be an inspiration to you, to remind you not to take things too complicated; because as easy as it sounds, inspirations are everywhere. This list is just the simple things we often forget, but we can count on everytime we're being too complicated with our sources of inspiration.

God Bless!

Saturday, March 4, 2017

the beauty of things.

We were on the road, like always. I feel like almost half of our lives are spent on the road. I was the one who drove because you got your left hand broken from playing basketball. The funny thing was, I broke my leg too that week. Fortunately it's my left ankle and it's just got twisted, otherwise we would just stay at home because neither of us can drive.

"Are you sleepy, babe?" you asked. I smiled and touched your right hand. "No, dear. Why asked?"
"Just feel bad here because you're driving and I'm sitting here like an idiot, staring at that cheek I want to kiss so badly."
I laughed. "First, I love driving so I'm okay. Second, you're an idiot for saying that you're an idiot and I love you for that. Third, go ahead."
Now it's your turn to laugh. At that time, some old 60s songs are played. "I think I'm in love with a girl who's literally born in the wrong era."
He's right about that one fact. "But you admit that these songs are great."
"Who said they're not? Let me finish my sentence. And I even love you more because your taste is as old as my grandma."
"I'll take that as a compliment, thank you."
You laughed again. "Hey, what's this song called?"
"Yesterday. The Beatles."

We went silence. We listened to the song, to the lyrics, and suddenly a thought appeared.
"Human's as fickle as f*ck," I said.
"One day you say you love her, but tomorrow could be different. You could wake up next to someone you love so deeply last night, but the morning after you're just wondering who the hell is she."
"Is this a 500 days of summer references?"
I smiled. "Kind of."
"Yeah, that's why being committed takes a lot of courage and not all men can do that. Some are just as coward as cows and you've gotta get used to that fact. But I can assure you, I'm no cow."
"I know you're not."
"What are you trying to say, though?"
"Human are fickle. But let's see the beauty of it. If the one who wrote these lyrics didn't undergone such a painful tragedy, there wouldn't be any song called Yesterday.
The ability of the songwriter, to see the beauty of being broken. The beauty of human's fickleness. Instead of drowing himself in the pool of self-pity, he chose to write a song based on his tragedy; they beauty of it. And it became world's hit song. Who ever thought of that? Who knows?
Just by looking at the beauty of things, a masterpiece is made."
You gave me the most incredible smile a person could ever give. "It's a bit like you, actually."
"That's what makes me fall in love with you at the first place. Your ability to see the beauty of things. You're badly broken, can barely survive, but you made it. Instead of drowning yourself in the pool of hatred, you chose to rise. To forgive, and to let go. And to see the beauty of your tragedy. You wrote poems, songs, you create a picture that speaks a lot about you brokenness; but in a beautiful, yet sad, way. You see through what most people cannot see.
The beauty of things."

Most of the time, we overlook a lot of things. We missed a lot of beauty because we're too focused on ourselves. Our hurts, our pains, our wounds. We're busy to hide our scars instead of wearing them proudly. Instead of showing them in a way people can finally understand, what makes you so strong after all this time.
Even in the darkest of times, we will rise again. It's a truth, but it also depends on how you see your life after tragedy happened. If you chose to bury yourself with hatred; believe me, you will never win.
Set your mind free. Have a mind that overlook the flaws and try to see the beauty of things. Who knows, by having that perspective, you could create a masterpiece like John Lennon and Paul McCartney. They look at the beauty of being left by people they love the most; and that's how Yesterday is composed. And indeed, it's a masterpiece.

Wednesday, March 1, 2017

Mi Vida.


Finally, I'm back in the cyber space again.
I've been doing a social-media detox for 7 days, and I can honestly say, it was a great decision. I left my social medias (instagram, twitter, facebook and blog) for just seven days but I already learned so much about life. Maybe later when I get busier I'd plan to do a month digital detox, but for now a week or two are enough, I think. I'm gonna post another writing about the benefits of doing digital detox, but in this post I just wanted to say hi. :D

A lot of things happened in the past seven days; and as easy as it's said, without posting those moments on social media, I feel fine, more than fine. I enjoy my life more, the tap of inspiration opened really wide and I did a lot of work. My thoughts were becoming way more positive, and I pretty much enjoyed life outside my phone. Well, my life isn't that interesting right now but even that became quite enjoyable for me. I was able to look for another escape when I was bored; I looked for another sources of inspirations when I lacked out any. I found inspirations from the simplest things: rain, sounds, sky. Three songs and a looot of writings coming up; get ready! :))

The most interesting and the only painful thing of the week was: I broke my leg. Haha! It was the stupidest thing ever; fell off of stairs and have your ankle twisted. It got swollen as big as tennis ball and I still drove my mom back and forth for two days and even did some photo hunting with my sister. Girl power. It's better now, but I still walk slower than my grandma. It was my left foot that got twisted, and now my right foot's starting to feel burdened for having to do two feet jobs for the last three days. But, yeah. There's always a first time for everything, and this is for me way more interesting rather than painful.

I've been having a #girlcrush for Dodie Clark on Youtube. She's the cutest thing ever! And incredibly gifted. Check her out; currently loving her Intertwined EP album on Spotify and my faves are "Sick of Losing Soulmates" and "Intertwined".

I CANNOT WRITE POEMS AT ALL. WHY. I wanted to write something really sad and painful to read but oh maybe I've passed that phase already. But it's quite depressing tho, because my ability to write is based on the events I'm going through. Sigh.

Oh, and the most important thing is this: it's still raining. Yeah, fickle rain in the middle of incoming summer. But the water feels fine; so it's good I guess. And yeah it's part of the lyrics! Can't wait to let you know what I've been working on.

And the speed God's giving me is quite incredible. I'm grateful each and single day.