20th post: You: a POV [1]

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We barely knew each other. I saw you there, no, we were supposed to be togædere, to be fitted in one aggregation but I was choosing the other way. I had no idea. Who was that living creature, le petit humain, la petit fille—precisely, you were looked like a little girl on my first impression—among zillion living creatures living the earth? I don’t know. With those two pair of white ribbon shoes on your little feet, felt like I had captured you somewhere before and lost the photograph itself. It stranded in somewhere, on the brain. Couldn’t find it anywhere, probably because my brain was completely a mess at that time.

I had been looking thru the piece of glass, the interconnected webs at that time. Chercher ton existence. Pardon my curiosity, well, it had killed the cat anyway. There you were, as a person. With a persona, playing the masquerade among the grown-ups. My curiosity killed the cat again; I was so reluctant to let my fingers touched the button, but the force between my fingers and my brain was tough, and my fingers won. Precisely; the game was intentionally started by these innocents.

There you were, unpredictably, standing in front of my existence. You saw my existence on the interconnected webs. You finally decided to join the game. Those days, when those little things popped the glass, left the reddish as an epitome on the corner at the end of the day. I thought it was considered normal. The gap was okay, we were still on the different strata. You were okay.

But I wasn’t okay since I thought you weren’t a normal person.

Until that night, when the darkness overwhelmed the whole night and the droplets didn’t want to stop themselves. Tons of unsolved things were my loyal acquaintances. I pressed the button. You were there and left the trace, with some numbers. Questioning the life.

Until we got the chance to ask each other’s life. Face-to-face. Of course, with the gap lingered. And personal spaces. But we shared each other personal spaces anyway. Until you started another game by leaving your small piece of notes to me. Personal notes. Seemed you really wanted me to be involved on this game by sending some jumbled characters to you.

I was completely aware that my role was the innocent guy. I played the innocent guy. I acted like i didn’t know anything, like there was nothing happened, like there was nothing to be exaggerated, whispered my brain. So I finally decided to join your game.

I was the one who typed hesitantly, and ended up erased the whole stranded, jumbled characters that supposed to be arranged but it didn’t. But sent it anyway. With some cheers, left the creepy smile to make it more friendly. And an exclamation mark, which was my bad habit. It was obvious for those who didn’t know me that well, exclamation mark must be a thing: a portrayal of apoplectic head.

Minutes passed. Hours spent.

At the end, cerulean blue was the only thing I found. The only trace intentionally left there by you.

I was sighed. I was standing on the bus at that time since the bus was filled with homo sapiens. It was a long gap of silence and thoughts until I finally arrived at my temporary home. I tried to bury my disappointment deep down there.

Ah, right. There was this small lake near my home. I was thinking to drown everything, all of them, those hours and games we’d spend on. Probably I didn’t exist at all in your eyes. Probably.

I opened my window to get some fresh airs. That night was filled by stars. I could see Proxima Centauri clearly. It was unusual. I didn’t usually find it shining brightly, the sky was polluted and hard enough to be seen. But that day was different. Well, I wasn’t trying to be superstitious.

That night, there was something different. Someone was walking down there. Seemed so familiar, with the posture and all of those measurements. And the pair of white ribbon shoes. I strangely looked at it. Until the person was realised I was stared on the shoes. She smiled mysteriously & waved at me. It was her.

(to be continued)

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19th post: Un Chagrin, Sans Titre

19th post: Un Chagrin, Sans Titre

Holding hands—or holding the future? Or holding the selfishness, creating they own world. Solitary.

I’d rather to befriend the solitude than face the reality to engage with those people who doesn’t even want me in their world, either being a complement or a substitute. Unlisted.

People say it seems not that hard to me to engage with new people and make friends with them. Well, they just didn’t know what lies behind. “Look at those eyes! They’re rejecting you. They don’t want you. Let’s have another walk. Find another one. Someone who will accept you as a friend, the way you are.” Told these two hemispheres of the upper part organ. My brain.

Then I walked again. I had some miles to get through. Passed million human being. Some others were decent enough to be called as human, some others not. Some others did realise my existence, some others just let it be. Some others welcomed me to their life, some others left those disgusting look to my presence.

I’ve been spending 6787 days here. Still struggling, still got rejected by those eyes. My mother said I’ve always got that social problem since my kindergarten. Still the same, until now. I don’t know, probably the problem is in me, or I am the problem myself. The unwanted persona non grata.

Lundi, 23 Janvier 2017. With all of these broken-hearted feelings, rejected by the society.

18th post: Vendredi, 13 01 2017: Roadshow, Banten & I

18th post: Vendredi, 13 01 2017: Roadshow, Banten & I

I don’t know where I belong to; my parents were newcomers themselves. Mom was born & raised in Tanah Datar, Sumatra Barat while Dad was in Bandung, Jawa Barat himself. They met here & started a life here too. Me? Born and raised here, Banten. Been spending the whole 17 years here.

Years back then, I didn’t really like depicting myself as a Bantenese. Simply because I can’t speak their lingua franca nor understand theirs. That just (the language) was feeling so weird, looked so peasant-ish. Probably because it was majorly spoken by some unscholarly locals. Hehe shame on me, I know. Have no idea why I was acting like this.

Until I started to continue my study in another place. The university was located in somewhere I hardly know, somewhere new and strange to me. At first I didn’t really like to identify myself as a Bantenese since I didn’t even inherit their bloods. To me, Minang was felt more suitable. But what could I do? I wasn’t born there, living there or spend my study there. I only inherited half of Minang & Sundanese blood.

There I was, starting to join their community (let’s say it’s a community for students from Banten at our university), and trying to feel the likeness and unity since we came from the same place. I was trying to involve myself on their events. Like some gatherings and events, even my senior from high school back then involved me to their events.

So, today was my 3rd day “walking” aka roadshow around the town: visiting different schools with different social & financial backgrounds. “Babbling” around.

Well, honestly I am not a fan of doing this roadshow thing. I personally don’t like showing myself off of them, with this bright, yellowish alma mater jacket. I’d rather to stay clandestine, unnoticeable, working behind the stage than being spotted by people. I don’t really like being spotted. Yeah, things weren’t just ended-up being passers-by, they changed the other things too. So were my mind. It was changed. I’ve decided to join in.

We’ve visited some “fortunate” and “unfortunate” schools though they weren’t that plenty. We’ve spent the three days visiting five schools, and two schools by one day, with them alone, at the first day of roadshow.

Our babblings depend on the type of school. Sometimes we have to shorten our babblings, but sometimes we have to explain it a little bit longer because they have no idea what we’re actually talking about or even don’t know what we’re talking about is actually existed. Some students probably don’t know things such SBMPTN & SIMAK do exist (let’s say these two are the Indonesian version of SAT). Some students probably don’t know they can pay zero expenses on their college tuition fees to study at university. They only know the unreachable numbers of expenses they have to pay for the sake of studying at university. And so they choose to find a job and working as young labours to earn some money instead continue their study in university. Some of them really want to study at university but their parents can’t afford those expenses. Some of them don’t have any idea what they’re going to do.

Heartbreaking, indeed. We’re living on the same town but there’s a big gap of life that separates us. That’s only my town. How about the other regions? Bet there are tons of them facing the same problems like these high school students. I hope these students finally get the chance to continue their study at public university. Not just simply giving up their dreams. We definitely can’t simply let our life as it be.

Thank you, Tim Roadshow region Cilegon for these precious, last three days. So much fun. Although I am a newcomer myself from nowhere, it’s definitely our compulsory to change our beloved Banten, Cilegon in particular, to a better one. #RoadshowGakMilihMilih

17th post: Imaginary Friend

17th post: Imaginary Friend

To break the silence, I tell everything to you.
You subconsciously realise you know everything, all the gesture and your oracle instinct.
You subconsciously realise you have nothing more to say.
All you have to do: wrap your lips in silence, let me babbling right away, fussing the whole thing, the whole world, let myself on my own world.
Fully immersed by my own world.
But you find out myself fully immersed with your own, your whole world.
The whole silence in your tiny world. Silence is everything.
Every millisecond is worth a pleasure.
I enjoy you in silence.
You can hear me bumbling.
And here I am deafening with your silence.
We are subconsciously trapped, letting ourselves incorrigible.
We both are trapped in our incarceration.

17 06 2016

14th post: 3AM Thoughts, Time-teller

14th post: 3AM Thoughts, Time-teller

At the end of the day
Calling out every single elephant who can remember
At the top of melancholy hill
The big pile of memories
We put an elephant on a top of it
So it can be the storyteller to the old days
Years already passed when you’re trying to look into another glass and digging
Going deeper and deeper
Through the big pile of memories
Until we find ourselves as memento for our children
At the end of the day

Cilegon 23 07 2016