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I might be the most stubborn hot-headed person you will ever met, I might have the most annoying laugh you will ever heard, I might never stopped talking until your ears blown off. Believe it or not, there is another person who is as stubborn as me with the similar taste of jokes and complex thoughts. But she is way smarter with words, that I always feel like my writing will never be good enough compared to hers. She complained about how rarely I show my affection towards our friendship through my writing or my random post on instagram. To say that I don't have enough good pictures with her is just a mere excuse because I can simply write my feelings out like I did for my other close friends. But when it comes to her, I never feel like my written word is ever enough. She is a much brilliant writer than I ever be, and most of the time I feel like my words didn't do justice to describe it; to describe how she can be infuriating with her anger & big fire towards injustice of t...

I long to belong somewhere Across this universe Where we could fit in together And then I decided to build one in my mind Some place covered with white walls and high windows; So that the warmth of sun could come And the breezy wind keep on knockin’ Not so big but enough to put in a large tv & long couch For us to sit in while watching; Gasping at serial killer documentaries, Crying at romantic movies, Staying up all night to binge the whole season of series A home full of your voice singing “And yes, I’m a mess but I’m blessed to be stuck with you,” While I laugh doing random dance at the stairs Our morning will be full of my rising anxiety Starting with my last night’s dream story and your hot cup of worry You’ll blow it out with your raspy voice And hug it tight to shut the noise We both know that we don’t need much from a companion Other than a person to share random jokes, stories, and nights full of endless conversation with In a crowded city we will be enough; Me with my pe...

Most of the time I feel so alone until every ghost in this universe could possibly choose not to haunt my gloomy heart simply because it’s way too deserted. Other times I tried to look around and found no one. I was left by myself to answer all of the questions and to figure out how my life should exactly be. Until I glance a stare to a far distance only to find an abundance of Libra waving their hands at me, cheering and welcoming their own favorite one, tis the season to be jolly. Since this writing is not about me. This one is about Hana, someone who is extraordinarily smart, but stupid enough to let me ruin her last year of high school by agreeing to sit with me. And there she is, tangled in my messed up story through the remaining years until right this second. A quite unique Libra, I could say. People could see her but not quite see who she is; brain beauty with a tad of stupidity who I believe will never need any luck in her way. Just because she made it a certain way, and she ...

Things I am not willing to share: 1. The lychee on my iced tea 2. Pia legong 3. The last bar of chocolate 4. My fucked-up history on the family area 5. The scar that’s way too revealing yet i’ve always succeed on hiding 6. The comfort of my own cold & quiet room whenever I need my space 7. My best friend’s confidential stories 8. Names of my crushes (like, never) 9. Hundreds of unfinished letters of anger I wrote to avoid snapping at people when I’m upset 10. The old site of my blog Actually, there are like hundreds of things I am not willing to share to anyone, including you. I’m sorry this is not a love letter and you’re not the only exception. You are not even an exception at all. There isn’t any exception regarding my life and my constant need of dealing with it by my own. Your way of being right there in front of me with eyes full-focused listening to my rambling words about the movie I watched last night while drinking an iced lychee tea is what I want to write about. It is n...

Untuk setiap hela napas, terdapat harapan dan mimpi yang hampir kandas Diselipkan penuh hati-hati dalam satu dua tiga gulir detik yang berlomba dikejar oleh mati Entah tentang rencana panjang atau cara menghindari berjalan telanjang Akuilah, Tidak semua nyata adalah bahagia Semua yang diinginkan untuk menjadi, Pun akan mati di beberapa sisi Seperti seorang penulis yang punya mimpi untuk ciptakan sebuah citra yang memanja mata Namun apa daya, Jauh sebelum kuas menyelesaikan tugasnya, Ia sadar untuk mengingatkan sejuta manusia Akan kesia-siaan yang akan datang Dalam setiap hela napas, Penulis tahu tangannya bukan untuk menggores kuas; Bukan untuk mencampur warna; Bukan untuk mencipta citra, Di akhir cerita, ia akhirnya memanggil teman baiknya Untuk sekadar temani apa yang sudah terlanjur mati Sebelum menjadi Sederet kata yang tersusun di bawah gambar adalah bentuk pemanfaatan akan semua yang telah  hancur berantakan Mati ditelan harapan selama tujuh bulan

Aku mau mulai nulis suka-suka Gak melulu soal hati Apalagi cinta Enggak perlu mikir mau pake diksi apa Nulis satu kata juga suka-suka Enggak kek, gak kek, nggak pun ya gapapa Eh, atau nggak papa? Nulis gini bukan gue banget Pake gue pula ???? Namanya juga udah lama enggak Nggak nulis, maksudnya Kalo nggak yang lain mah udah lama banget Nggak ketemu orang, nggak pulang malem, Nggak ke luar rumah selain kerja Banyak yang protes perkara pesan tak terbalas Banyak yang ilang perkara udah gak dianggap teman Padahal kerjaan cuma gini-gini aja; Melek, minum air, basuh muka, pesen gojek, Absen di lantai 28, pesen americano otr pake saus dolce 2 pump, duduk, minta ditemenin orang, ngisi paru-paru, Balik ke lantai 39, buka laptop, niatin nanti sore pulang kerja mau nulis, eh tiba-tiba udah setengah 7, absen, pesen gojek, Nunggu lift, abang gojek udah sampe, lift belum kebuka, Diburu waktu, dikejar telfon abang gojek, dikelabui buyi ‘TRING’ kirain lift kebuka, berdecak kesal, gak sabaran, ada ...

I used to crawl into bed with the pain of your name Blood streaming down my eyes; praying for the time you came Screaming for air at the same time Not ready to hug you with another goodbye My whole life I only know you as one, And eighteen, twenty one, also thousands of none That afternoon I let the day passed by And yet, you go back to the place when we were still blind The tight hug is not helping at all Neither the easy tone wrapped in a loose t-shirt Your whole existence reminds me of hell I’ve been living in Since the last time you let us be gone And leave me here all alone Those days I wasn’t even sure I will survive because I used to run from everything by going to your reek-of-cigarettes words and cold as stone mouth. The sweet “ oh, darling, remember that you will always come home to me ,” used to make relieve streamed down all over my bones. That was enough, the hand to my limped foot; the band-aid to my burning world. My name rolled over the messages which I knew who it...