kapan & dimana saya akan jualan air mata?

ada orang yang suka menjual air matanya untuk mengetuk pintu hati yang lainnya. dan itulah yang dia lakukan. setelah menjatuhkan saya dengan frase ini, frase itu, dia lalu menangis di depan semua orang. seolah-oleh saya adalah manusia paling jahat yang pernah jalan-jalan di jakarta-bandung. ini tidak terbalik ya? bukankah saya yang seharusnya menangis mendengar semua gunjingan orang yang bahkan tidak saya kenal? haha. menggelikan bukan? betapa orang yang belum memperkenalkan dirinya pada saya bisa berbicara begitu banyak seolah-olah dia pernah hidup dengan saya.

setelah saya yang merasa bersalah karena saya tidak bisa memaafkan dia, saya lalu berkata: "maafkan saya yang tidak bisa memaafkanmu waktu itu"
dan kini, kebodohan dan kenaifan saya itu memakan korban lagi. dan saya adalah si korban itu. hahahahahahahaha. saya dikerjai dua kali, bahkan setelah minta maaf?

sekali lagi, bukankah seharusnya saya yang menangis?

oh maaf, saya lupa. kantong air mata saya sudah saya gadaikan demi ramuan ajaib yang konon bisa menumbuhkan ketegaran juga keangkuhan.

you see? when it comes to conspiracy, bahkan IQ saya yang berjumlah 173 itu tidak ada fungsinya. saya juga tidak berbakat menjatuhkan orang. mungkin monyet saja bisa dilatih. tapi saya......
sama sekali tidak maju-maju dalam hal itu.

hey manis, selamat berlatih bersama monyet kalau begitu.

the only way to win the game, is not to play at all

me: "can i please please have this t-shirt? pleaseeee...."

him: "hey i knitted this yellow t-shirt for 5 days long, i cant just give it to you, ai..

me: "what if i buy it?"

him: "it's not for sale. don't you get it? it's my fave t-shirt. i'm not gonna give it to anyone including you"

him: "and don't wear legging it looked terrible on you, oh i'm so ashamed by the way you dressed today..lets go home and change your clothes."

me: ...................................................

him: "gees, honey you have a horrible body size, hey even Susan my neighbor's body is better than yours"

me: ...................................................



GAME'S OVER. GO TO HELL, MAN.

"we're all consumers. we buy everything everyday just to make sure that we feel better about our lives and those product company loved us because we stupidly spend our cash just to be a perfect trend. we're not a person. we are just some new shoes, new cell-phone, new LCD tv, new bike, new bags, new car...

and beyond that, we can't admit how we do feel empty, insecure, unhappy and we lied to ourselves. every morning, we say this all over again: "by buying something new, i think i'm gonna feel better about myself now and won't be lonely".

face it. being alone is human. it's even more normal than spending the rest of your life sending hundred messages to some girl you didn't know in facebook that goes like: "hi, i like your eyes. they're beautiful. can i have your number?"

man, why can't you just cut the crap and ask her "CAN I FUCK YOU?"

Do not afraid to let go anything you own. because everything you own, end up owning you. It's only after we've lost everything that we're free to do anything.

the promise i broke

i once promise to myself that i won't get more tatts. well, like most people...i sucked big time when it comes to stop having new tatts. this is my first colour tatts. i usually dig for black and grey ones, but this time, i gave up to some colour haha

things i embraced with my lens and you can go to hell with that "so-called-you-said-i-ain't-no-nothin'-about-photography" attitude

there's always a price to pay if you're being such a smart ass. these pictures of mine were once exhibited in Smarta Gallery few years ago.

gotcha (part 2)

and yes, i had no problems by being nude and almost naked. it's the most honest pose and human skin was created beautifully to be taken by the lens of our camera. to Arya Kusumadewa who helped me out, thank you for always being a gay.

gotcha (part 1)

it's good to pretend that i didn't know anything about everything, especially in photography. in that way, i can see the real person in you. do you teach me & respect me? or do you just teach me to show me that you're better than me?


these are those babies i had with my cameras:

banyak yang mulai meminta saya menyelesaikan cerita tentang Antiokhia. ya saya bebal dan pemalas memang, maaf teman-teman haha. okay okay, i'll write again!

Angin dan Antiokhia

Antiokhia punya teman dekat. dia bernama Angin. mereka biasa tertawa bersama. makan bersama. mendengarkan musik bersama. bernyanyi bersama. dan membaca bersama. melihat lukisan bersama, walau mereka belum pernah melukis bersama. mereka selalu melukis di tempat terpisah. mereka melukis masing-masing. kemarin mereka mulai tidur bersama. kadang hampir setiap hari.

hingga suatu hari Antiokhia berhenti datang bulan. dia bercerita pada Angin. lalu Angin bilang dia akan memeliharanya. pergilah Antiokhia ke toko. membeli alat tes kehamilan. menggunakannya dan melihat tanda itu. dua garis merah. positif. lalu Antiokhia mengambil telepon genggamnya dan mengirim pesan elektronik pada Angin.

Antiokhia: aku datang bulan. akhirnya. hore!
Angin: bagus. :)
-end of message-

esok harinya saat seorang teman datang berkunjung ke tempat tinggal Antiokhia...

Kala: mengapa kamu berbohong?
Antiokhia: belum saatnya.
Kala: ya, tapi apa yang kamu tunggu?
Antiokhia: aku akan bertanya dulu. dia mencintaiku atau tidak.
Kala: apa artinya? anaknya sudah dalam rahimmu!
Antiokhia: jangan katakan ini tidak ada artinya. jika Angin tidak mencintaiku, ada perbedaan besar dan aku akan mengambil keputusan yang tepat.

hari-hari terus berjalan. seiring dengan gejolak hormon seorang perempuan yang sedang mengandung, Antiokhia mulai sering mengajak Angin bertengkar. terutama tentang hal-hal yang tidak ada artinya. hingga satu hari pertanyaan besar itu dilontarkan, dan Angin pun menjawab.

"aku sudah mati rasa. aku sudah mati rasa"

hari itu juga, Antiokhia pergi ke suatu tempat bernama Ufuk Barat. sebuah tempat dimana mereka membunuh dan membuang bayi-bayi seperti sampah. namun di sana, semua harus dipesan terlebih dahulu. dan karena antrian telah terlalu panjang, maka giliran Antiokhia adalah 35 hari lagi. begitu banyak pesanan di sana. begitu banyak orang yang tidak menginginkan anak mereka.

kemudian Antiokhia menunggu. menunggu selama 35 hari. menunggu dalam hening tanpa pernah memberi tahu Angin. atau siapa pun selain Kala. menunggu hingga sang anak genap berusia 25+35=60 hari.

hari itu pun datang. namun saat itu Antiokhia harus bekerja. maka ia akan datang ke Ufuk Barat sore hari sepulang kerja. saat jam pulang kerja tiba, Antiokhia merasakan ada duri yang menusuk kepalanya. membatalkan semuanya, Antiokhia pun pulang ke tempat tinggalnya. ke tempat tidurnya. 5 jam 21 menit lamanya dia tertidur.

7 hari kemudian sebuah bercak darah terlihat di tempat duduk sebuah taksi yang ditumpangi Antiokhia. dia mengelap bercak itu dengan kertas yang berisi hitungan harga susu kaleng untuk ibu mengandung. hari itu, sang anak pergi meninggalkan Antiokhia tanpa dia harus datang ke tempat mengerikan seperti Ufuk Barat. Antiokhia menangis dan berteriak selama 180 menit di dalam kamar mandi sambil melihat darah yang terus mengalir keluar.

setelah itu Antiokhia pulang ke rumahnya dan menceritakan semuanya pada sang ibu. menghabiskan 14 hari di sana dengan berbaring di atas tempat tidur.
tidur dan makan. tidur dan menangis. tidur dan makan lagi. dan menangis lagi.

hingga hari ini, Antiokhia tidak pernah lagi mencari Angin. atau memberi tahu apapun tentang seorang anak yang sempat ia namakan Lealta.

yang berarti kekuatan, kepercayaan dan hati yang teguh.

Lealtà

some people know how to paint, some how to sing. some are math teachers, some can play piano. while some of them know how to cook like a culinary champ. i, happen to be some of who can write, who know how to impress people with my royal words. i thought it was just an ordinary boring gift. until one day, that gift had made me met the man i will be with 7 years after i met him for the first time.

i was only 17 when i saw him at the competition. and the most weird thing is i don't remember anything particular at that time. i was one of the winner and every winner got 5 very expensive books. and if it wasn't for my math teacher Miss Theresa, i won't go for the competition. because every teacher in my school refused to sign the following letter and forbade me to send my writing. they all said i won't make it through the competition. so i walked 2 miles to the post office, bought the most expensive stamp i could afforded and sent it while making some cross sign on my chest.

few months later the school principle called me to meet him. he was so curious why i even had the nerve to send those writing and that he was glad i did it because my name was one of the finalist.

the funny thing is, now i couldn't remember what happened back there in the competition. but i do remember the first time i met him again. i was 24 and was volunteering on some NGO. i postponed my college and i taught in a free education for fishermen's children. while he had this only-God-knows-what faith that believe i will be a great person who can do important things for this country.

people come and go. even them who promised me most beautiful things of friendship, love, loyalty, religious bible phrases and some underground solidarity of communal activism. but this guy never turned his back on me. and so i will never turn my back on him, no matter what.

some people were born not to tolerate. some can't forgive you once you hurted them. and some are just like me, who was born to be a genuine pain in the ass. some people cursed me, some left me unnoticed. and those who raised me couldn't even look me in the eye. 3 of my best friends stop talking to me and for God's grace i still have some old friends who still take care of me when the pain from the back of my head strike like a number one bullet. and he, as a matter of fact was, is and will always be my back door. my infinity and beyond.

and people who still stick up with me after all the storm of war (hell, i'm not such a nice person i could be such a trouble you should have killed me long ago), every one of them are people who had the imitation of Jesus Christ. they didn't change the way they treat me even when i stabbed them, i tested them, i threw all the shit thing at them. and that's when i actually stop. i stop stabbing and realize that i should treat this one differently. they are specials. they are not just common people. they are golden. you can burn gold into some flame, pour them some alcohol, some oil and they would still be golden. and life, is only worth enough when you have all the best chosen golden people.

The Invitation by Oriah (Mountain Dreamer)

It doesn’t interest me
what you do for a living.
I want to know
what you ache for
and if you dare to dream
of meeting your heart’s longing.

It doesn’t interest me
how old you are.
I want to know
if you will risk
looking like a fool
for love
for your dream
for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn’t interest me
what planets are
squaring your moon...
I want to know
if you have touched
the center of your own sorrow
if you have been opened
by life’s betrayals
or have become shriveled and closed
from fear of further pain.

I want to know
if you can sit with pain
mine or your own
without moving to hide it
or fade it
or fix it.

I want to know
if you can be with joy
mine or your own
if you can dance with wildness
and let the ecstasy fill you
to the tips of your fingers and toes
without cautioning us
to be careful
to be realistic
to remember the limitations
of being human.

It doesn’t interest me
if the story you are telling me is true.
I want to know if you can disappoint another
to be true to yourself.
If you can bear
the accusation of betrayal
and not betray your own soul.
If you can be faithless
and therefore trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see Beauty
even when it is not pretty every day.
And if you can source your own life
from its presence.

I want to know
if you can live with failure
yours and mine
and still stand at the edge of the lake
and shout to the silver of the full moon, “Yes.”

It doesn’t interest me
to know where you live
or how much money you have.
I want to know if you can get up
after the night of grief and despair
weary and bruised to the bone
and do what needs to be done to feed the children.

It doesn’t interest me who you know
or how you came to be here.
I want to know if you will stand
in the center of the fire with me
and not shrink back.

It doesn’t interest me
where or what or with whom you have studied.
I want to know
what sustains you from the inside
when all else falls away.

I want to know
if you can be alone with yourself
and if you truly like the company you keep
in the empty moments.

cerita Antiokhia

halo. nama saya antiokhia. tinggi 162 senti, tapi tidak pernah tahu berapa berat badan saya. orang-orang suka melihat rambut pendek saya yang menguning karena warna cat artifisial lalu mereka bilang saya sedang krisis identitas. saya akan jawab: "memang. who doesn't? semua orang kadang masih perlu mencari dimana mereka berpijak. Festina lente. To make a move slowly adalah nama lain dari evolusi yang berakar dari pencarian jati diri."

hari ini tidak hujan, tidak juga cerah. menyebalkan saat cuaca bahkan sama labilnya seperti saya. karena saya ingin semuanya bisa dijadikan model, stabilitas atau apapun yang bisa membuat saya yang labil ini merasa jauh lebih baik dari hari kemarin. mungkin saya harus belajar berhenti menyalahkan diri sendiri dan akan jauh lebih mudah menyalahkan orang lain, terutama mereka yang biasanya menerima kita apa adanya.

saya lupa apa yang terakhir benar-benar bisa membuat saya bersenandung. komposisi lagu-lagu yang ada di pasaran lokal akhir-akhir ini terlalu bisu untuk bisa bercerita bahwa apa yang mereka ciptakan itu bisa dinikmati hingga saya terkena ekstase.

ibu saya, seorang penjual guci kesepian yang ditinggalkan suaminya tiga tahun lalu sering menelepon saya tengah malam. dia hanya menghembuskan napasnya perlahan sambil menyebut nama saya berkali-kali, hingga akhirnya dia tertidur dengan telepon dalam genggamannya. saya, seperti sang ibu, juga kadang melakukan hal yang sama.
satu kali, dua kali, empat belas kali, lalu kekasih saya pergi berselingkuh dengan lelaki lain. dia bilang dia muak. dia bilang dia tidak suka bau tubuh saya yang mirip ayam goreng kalasan. dia bilang dia lebih suka mabuk-mabukan daripada terima telepon dari saya.

kini, saya semakin suka meneleponnya. mendengar teriakan histerianya yang sambil berkata supaya saya berhenti mengganggunya. tapi saya semakin suka bermain-main dengannya. semakin. semakin. semakin. dan semakin.

i live like a fire.