Rosaline & Tulpa #3

Tell me,
can true love flee away
like those birds that fly away,
having a ditch from a tree of life
to another?
Tell me,
does giving in
to despondency
signify the fate you're opted for
is
not to be loved?

***

Once the blanket covered up my whole body, I fell asleep in an instant.

Rosaline was now sitting on a bench, somewhere in nowhere. The bench was actually dank but whatever. She kept sitting on it as she was trying to figure out where the dream brought her to this time.

Glimmer of hope to find out where she was never really came after some time--she wasn't so certain how long she'd been in there, it was like only minutes but probably coulod be hours--and therefore she began to amble up to wherever her feet heading to. Trees with bare branches were in her both right and left sides, fogs surrounded all over her, and the light was so dim she only could see something within 10 meters, despite the moonlight. She came to a halt for a second and fidgeted for a little while, shuddering, gasping. It occured to her it was just so bizzare that how cozy it was with the way the wing blew plenty of scattered leaves on the boulevard, with the clouds of obscurity in her mind, and with the emptiness she often felt in spite of the crowded world. A pang of pain pricked through her blood, rushing through each artery in her body. A dog was yelping in a far, far away, out of her sight.

She then continued ambling up, enjoying the odd icy dew on her skin.

That is actually pretty rare that I can be pulled away that easily from the reality to the hazy fuzziness, called dreamland, where Tulpa can never come in. And I am really happy, temporarily happy though, as I have waited for this moment to come for... I don't know, like 10 years? 5 years? Or a year, perhaps? I forget how long I've waited for what I thought was just a vain effort, and I also forget how that even feels.

It occurs to me that I terribly yearn to be dragged to this beautiful unconsciousness. And once I'm in it, I never want to be woken up. Ever since I suffer from this disorder, I barely can sleep. The insomnia always has my mind in tangle like it keeps running, working, over thinking regarding something either real or unreal, I can't really tell, because I have these high imaginations that the average teenagers surely don't have.

Imaginations that made my old friends give me weird look, followed by "what are you talking about, you must be joking since it can't be true" once they heard of it. I remember I laughed my ass off despite the agony, not that it was funny, it was awfully hurting instead. I was afwully hurt. The bitterness I felt was way too much I kept blaming myself for being so stupid telling such a personal privacy to them. Because they considered me as a weirdo afterwards.

Imaginations that made people rant about me being crazy and yap about how that can't possibly happen. I always assume those people just don't get it, I mean how come this impossibly happen when me, the sufferer, the real so-called victim does exist? Me, whom they thought was only another nut, standing and living and inhaling the same oxygen as they do? They only keep compressing each cell in their brain with silly statement that I'm just one with no commonsense, which--of course--isn't true. Or probably is true. Whatever.

And imaginations that made my dad, my own dad, behaves so awkwardly reluctant, distant, cold, and all that to me ever since doctor told him. I was literally aghast in the first month or so once he barely even talked to me. I don't have any siblings, and all I have now is only him. So what can I do? Average teenagers go out of their way to keep bringing up how sweet their dads allegedly are. I believe their stories after all since I also have ever felt them a couple years ago, but it's just no way for now. Oftentimes, I grumble how love can slip away that way, how life can be so unfair, and how everything goes sucks way too much.

Rosaline was now in the middle of the night, where the moon was exactly on top of her. It was downright murky. Her sight was only 10 meters away and yet she kept on wandering.

A wooden building considerably loomed as a haggard one, wedged in a darkening patch of shadow. The grove of trees seemed to be steadily disappearing as--apparently--a shack with a muddy water in front of its door came to her sight. The window, the only window in there, was really dust-frosted. The shack had seemingly not been cleaned up like in ages, and it was gross.

Rosaline knocked the door as though there were any ones living in it. But of course no answer came as a response, and therefore she then opened the door and found an old wooden chair as the only thing left in that shack.

She sat, thought of an absolute nothing, waiting to come down to earth and play another fun game with Tulpa in real life.

This is what I've learned about life: happiness and pain never go hand in hand. --ets281214

Dear My Future Hubby

Well this is gonna be awkward since I don't know who you might be and where you might be, and I also don't know when our first meet was or when our first meet will be. And yet, here I'm telling whoever you are, what have been my wishes since forever once we've become a bride and bridegroom in bridal dais, spending our time together till death afterwards.
But, please promise me first that you will never consider this as something disgusting or something way too blunt or whatever it is because, sorry not sorry, I don't give a damn. What I care is you to consider this as either something to respect or something to be the reason why you've gotta put your trust in me later on.
Okay, let's just get this started, I'll make it quick.

Dear my future hubby...
Indeed, as far as I'm concerned, love is such an abstract theory that cannot be put in words theoretically. My bestie, Ainun Nabiila, even said that "you don't need to understand what love is to feel". Because nevertheless, love is just so real in reality that every single one must have ever been in it. No one is perfect but love completes them to be a perfect one.
So I already know that you, somewhere on Earth, are no man. You, why on Earth reading this pile of klunk, are no boy. You are no saint. You are no prince. No genius. No perfection. But I'm truly hoping that you are one of those pious men who have a brilliant and critical mind walking the Earth. I desperately need you to be mine, to complete me for being such a bitchy brat that cannot take the credit enough for the success she's got. I need you to impress me with your achievements, that you are my missing piece of clever part in my brain. I need you to remind me to always be in the right path, together with you. I need you to advice me the simple yet wise words to live as often as you'd like to, because I barely hear it from the guys I've ever been into, and if you could, you'd scare the hell out of each cell in me that I'd literally love you till death. And I need you to convince me that by the time we've been under the same roof, all the time we'd spent together is really worth wasting.

Dear my future hubby...
If you're one of those lecherous nuts who only love girls physically, then back off. I'm better out. Why? Because it means you didn't love me at all in the first place. I'm not the girl with sexy body, whose curves can make guys down on their knees, with such a very soft skin as fuck, whose boobs as big as what you've been dreaming of, with cute shaven pussy, and all that. If you're kinda disappointed and ask me "oh, aren't you?", I'm undoubtedly gonna say "yes, I'm not."
And reluctantly Imma say "and nah, I am.", that I'm the girl with skinny body. I'm the girl with tanned complexion. I'm the girl with flat nose. I'm the girl with glasses. I'm the girl whose hair on each limb of hers. I'm the girl with small boobs and booty. I'm terribly sorry to tell you that I hate staring at my own body, I hate myself for not being able to hide the ribs, I hate myself for being a hag-look-like.
If you insist me there's been love between us, all I can say is that "may that so-called fucking love be buried in fucking hell and I hope there's a slut who'll ever cuddle with you and be wrapped around your fucking fingers without any love involved."

I'm sorry not sorry, but seriously, I don't expect you to love me for the way I look, but I do expect you to love me for the way I am.

Dear my future hubby...
I'm actually hoping you're a white foreigner *no offense* so that I can always use English while talking with you, but if you aren't, then at least please God give me the one with great English skill. I desperately wanna live the rest of my life with someone who can understand how obsessed I am with English. How I can't even spend a day without speaking English. How I literally am gonna die if you don't speak English. It's just... I don't know, it's not solely a habit, a weird habit, but it's just much easier when I say something in English, you got it? You know once I can't find the proper word in Indonesian then I'll end up saying it in English. I don't know it's just like the English words have popped in to my mind so it's really easy to simply write them down right away than having to think what the exact Indonesian word for that... oh damn me, I can't explain this whole thing but I swear once you've got to know me, you'll understand.
And oh! I'm also sort of obsessed with going abroad. Do you mind to spend our honeymoon in The Netherlands? Or England? Or Australia? Or America? Or London? I've been craving for this since forever and yet the countries I've visited are only Singapore and Malaysia and those are not enough. I need to feel the four seasons Indonesia doesn't have, especially the fall.
So, please, I'm begging you... Take me out to other-marvelous-countries and let's have some sexy hot night as we've been doing the unforgettable fascinating experience.

Dear my future hubby...
It occurs to me that I am indifferent. I don't give a fuck on what's happening around me. What I only care about is myself. How I really should have some fun but this headache always bugs me. How I really should spend my teenage hood right but this school stuffs and shits always make me browned off. I'm the girl who would concern myself with careers rather than house chores. I can't wash clothes. I can't iron too many clothes. Worse, I can't cook. And I am allergic to dust. I'm sorry for being so blunt but really, I say that careers come first.
But, if-no, when-we are already in the same house, I promise you I'll do the best I can do. Before our marriage, I'll learn how to wash clothes with or without washing machine. I'll learn how to not be easily tired of ironing clothes. And most of all, I'll learn how to cook. Sure my Mom will teach me how since she's so dope at it and yet her daughter, me, is so nope at it. But at least I'm going to try learning, right. I will be such a good chef before you propose me, really (with one condition, let me run my career as well, I don't wanna be housewife only, it sucks). Because I know you're just way too valuable to not being deserved right.
Because I know you'll have been gonna be my last one, my forever boy, the boy whom I've been waiting for since I was born; by the time we're married.

Dear my future hubby...
Are you a nerd? Are you a bookworm? If yes, I can't thank God enough for having you as I believe you'll understand how freak I am with books, especially novels. As a matter of fact, I'm planning to have one room in our future house, the room with only our books in it. Yeah, so-called mini library! Can you imagine how fun it will be?! Can you imagine how enthusiastic I will be-we will be? That's... Heaven on Earth. I mean, ugh I'm sorry I'm running out of words to say.
Just give me some novels for our anniversary celebration instead of taking me out to romantic dinner, then I will definitely love you forever. Note this.

Dear my future hubby...
Meet me as soon as possible! I'll love you to the moon and back. --ets251214

No Title's Required

Love. The only thing that boosts us up to survive this fucked up reality.
Love. The only reason why we still exist until now, right this second.
Love. The only compulsion that works successfully having people be on their knees.
And for God's sake, it's love. The only word that has so much power it can't even be defined by anyone.

You know it's like there's nothing-even a single thing to describe love. The way how it feels, how it affects, how it influences our life, blinds or sight, limits our mind, changes our behavior and our habit; when we are in love.

Am I right?

Anyway, I wonder...
Can this be called as love when you slightly touch the skin of your crush's and out of sudden your heart were like about to jump forward a few meters?
Can this be called as love when you're talking with your crush and out of sudden you feel as though you had a claustrophobia that world were getting smaller and smaller and the people left on it were only you two?
Can this be called as love when you're drowned into your crush's sparkling eyes everytime he's staring at you?
Can this be called as love when your crush leaves such a beautiful electricity after he slightly touches your skin that it literally stifles you?
Can this be called as love when someone only says your crush's name and yet you look after the voice immediately, hoping your crush is right over there that results in pounding heart?



So, tell me, can those be called as love?
Because you know, most people will say yes yet some will say the other way around.

It might be as romantic as ever but it will end up in pain nonetheless.
As love itself that darkens your soul.
As love itself that messes everything up.
As love itself that breaks everyone's heart.
As love itself that bugs you, pisses you off, and makes you fed up with.
As love itself that makes you wake up at dawn then scream over the pain.
As love itself that results in suicide, abortion, mental disorder, and many more.
As love itself that gets you to cry, let the tears go down your cheeks, and let your eyes be bloodshot,

"You know you're in love when you can't fall asleep becaure reality is finally better than your dreams." --Dr. Seuss

"Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up." --Neil Gaiman

No title is required since love has a very general definiton. Once someone finally can define it, people perception's about it will very likely be limited.

Am I right? --ets201214

Rosaline & Tulpa #2

Blood draining from his arm.

He ground and bore it though.

"Urgh! What the fuck?!” He tried to wipe the blood off his left arm with the nearest mop his right hand could reach, though it got him to need some steps and stand against Rosaline.

“For Lucifer’s sake what’s bloody going on,” He grumbled, causing it not be heard as a question. He then threw the mop away without bothering to see where it going to land.

He seemingly didn’t care about the outrageous words spoken just seconds ago as Rosaline was standing still right next to him. He seemingly didn’t even notice that Rosaline was also in the kitchen, if he didn’t spun around.

 “And what are you doing in here, Rose?!"

By the litany of swearwords following it, the way his scratchy voice heard outrageously, and the way he said each word very pronouncedly, Rosaline's Dad seemingly didn't even bother to try to struggle keeping his voice even. His lips taut with anger, his bloodshot eyes bulged, flared with great fury, peering deadly in the eye at his daughter who was his only child (if only he still considered her as his child). He clenched his fist as though he'd punch her right in the face seconds after, inducing his biceps much more bulged. A surge of heat pulsed through his veins.

"I-I am pl-ay-ying new g-game, Dad-dy!" Rosaline innocently answered, clapping her hands excitedly while jiggling her legs up and down as if she just had told her Dad a very good news she couldn't even shut her mouth up any longer. Then she stilled, squinted, perhaps anticipating her Dad's response.

Rosaline's Dad squeezed Rosaline's left shoulder by his right arm-the arm which wasn't stabbed. He then took several deep breaths while bending over Rosaline.

And again, he peered deadly at her in the eye.

“What did ya just say?” He said too slowly it was more like whispering.

“I-I am pl-ay-ying new g-game,”

“New game?”

Rosaline nodded. “Tell me what kind of game that using knife as its toy, huh?!” His Dad was shocked at how steady his voice sounded.

Rosaline shrugged and shook her head as answering, “I d-don’t kno-ow, Da…”

“How come you don’t know when you just played that new game and stabbed me?! Stabbed your own father!?” He yelled at her, waiting for Rosaline’s excuse.

But Rosaline just shuddered, cringed, wrinkling up her face as she finally snapped out of her daze. Initially, she was confused, but then her brain somehow sent  signals that told her that her Dad was being angry. She then gave in to either fear or grief. Her eyes began to be glassy. She didn’t understand why her Dad be such downright hideous. She then closed her eyes for several seconds when her Dad tugged her chin up.

“Huh?” He said.

“I-I real-ly d-on’t kn-n-ow…” She murmured then sighed in trepidation, avoiding the eye contact with her Dad. “She d-didn’t tell m-me an-anythi-ng.”

Her Dad gawked at her for a moment. “She?” Rosaline nodded and wiped her tears away, didn’t want his Dad see her crying like a loser. “Who is she?”

“T-tul-pa.”

Her Dad stood up, stilled, furrowed his brow. “Tulpa?”

Confusion swirled in his brain. No, the proper word for it actually was disbelief. Disbelief swirled in his brain. He did know that her daughter suffered from that-whatever-psychological-disorder, but never knew she was this severely suffered.

Never knew, because he had never even been trying to rivet to how weird every single behavior his daughter had since her wife, Rosaline’s Mom, passed away almost 3 years ago.

And he would probably never try.

Rosaline’s Dad’s head was like slipping beneath the water he couldn’t think

He then took a deep breath, sat down cross-legged leaning against the wall, trying to figure it out though he somehow knew he couldn’t. The distinct smell of blood, icy air, and some kind of foods made him wanna puke. The air somehow felt colder than before it made him shiver in despair. He tried to find another lap to mop the bloody floor and clean up the mess he-they-just made.

“Whatever. Just go back to your room, Rose.”

Rosaline bustled in haste. She stayed clamed up even when her Dad shouted, “And make sure you won’t do any stupid game like this, will ya!”

She entered her room in, didn’t let the icy wind blow in from the open window as she closed it right away before going to bed. A woman-she forgot who she was, her Mom perhaps?-once told her that she was born to be the strongest girl ever alive in this universe. Rosaline honestly never really considered it as her words to live, but she somehow knew that it was true. She could feel it in herself. And she believed it.

What was just happened minutes ago was sort of haze. Blur. It was like loads of thoughts were milling about of her mind, but she couldn’t speak it all out. It stifled her; that mixed of one point when she was about to cry and she was about to scream.

The dense thoughts disorientated her in her own mind.

Rosaline was whacked, drowned in obscurity, too overwhelmed to move. --ets300614

Rosaline & Tulpa #1

The girl fidgeted on her feet, then leaned forward and craned her neck out of the window.
The icy wind blew plenty of leaves across the yard, caressing her face. Glimmers of an eerie moonlight shone through the open window, it cast a wavering spectrum of colors both on her face and half of her body. The moonlight was the only light shining that room, no wonder since someone was on the way to come over.
That someone.
She loved darkness as she'd been growing with it since forever.
And she'd been living in it.
Shivering, the girl ground her teeth due to the friggin' icy wind. It was way too cold for spring. The Doomsday ain't probably lurking no more, it was probably about to happen in the next some years instead, as the world going to be fucked up much more and more every year. At least that was what she thought.
She stilled, waiting.
"M-may-y-be this ti-me we're b-better to be-e shone on-ly by-y moon-l-light!" She said more like to herself, 'cause no one was in the room yet, but her.
11:47 pm.
She breathed in and out, breathed in and out, breathed in again until compressing her lungs with the icy air. She reeked of her midnight breath. The night was getting later, but she was still totally awake despite the bloodshots of her eyes were getting worse.
Bummp. Bummp. Bummp.
Krieekk...
Something was coming. She was coming eventually. Each step creaked and groaned under her weight. Tulpa loomed as darker shadow, ambling up to her.
"Rosaline." The way she called the girl was more like whispering.
Rosaline startled, gasping. She finally snapped out of her shock. She then turned her body back, ready to see whatever-her, the Tulpa-behind her. She then glanced at Tulpa who was now right in front of her. Her face devoid of expression.
Tulpa's blond hair was cut long, cascading over her shirt; the same as Rosaline's. She has pale complexion; the same as Rosaline's. Her height was about 5'5 tall and her weight was about 94 pounds; the same as Rosaline's. She was as scraggy as klunk; the same as Rosaline. She has scratchy voice, almond-shaped eyes, a bit square jaw; the same as Rosaline's. Rosaline's voice actually still carried the high pitch of childhood though. And Rosaline's face was flabby and flushed.
"Tulpa!" Rosaline cried, her voice was chipper as though she just had discovered something never been found. "L-let's play-y Tulpa c'm-c'mon!"
Rosaline Matthews, usually called Rose by others, was an 14 year old teenage girl. She'd been suffering from "Skizofrenia Disorganized" and still in the process of recovery, though the theraphies she'd been taking actually hadn't seemed worked at all. The "Skizofrenia Disorganized" caused her to overimagine something and be out of the reality she lived in, be out of the real social life. One the most literal example was having bestfriend which was actually a tulpa.
Suffering from it made Rosaline suffer from insomnia as well. She could barely sleep every night despite her eyes grew bloodshot. Nah, she didn't give a fuck on her bloodshot eyes though. She didn't really give a fuck on anything. Everything in real life was solely adornment in her bluish green eyes. Solely adornment.
The actual misery of being in despair made her eyes bulged, darting back and forth. She was always in sort of daze and every now and then her face became such a porcelain face. She couldn't really express her feelings as though her face muscles once in a blue moon became paralyzed, exactly like someone suffered from "Mobius Syndrome".
Oftentimes, in spite of the beautiful face she had, people disdained her existence and see herself in contempt. Then again, she didn't give a damn instead of being hurt. Tulpa was always by her side and cheered her up (if though she ain't sad like literally) and muttered, "Don't fucking listen to them, Rose. Those saps ain't doing any good. They don't even know what they are doing for fuck's sake. I'll ensure they all are gonna get the freaking impressing reward... hopefully soon. Very soon." Tulpa usually grinned after saying that, then creased in scowl. Rosaline only gawked at her. "Can't wait to play another more thrilling games! Wonder how'll ya feel, sweetie. There'll be bloody red ink... those shanks will be as pale as klunk, writhing in agony, as we're laughing our fucking ass off, Rose."
Rosaline honestly never understood what Tulpa either meant or planned. She got a bit the "red ink" part though. "R-red ink? Is-s it b-bloo-d, Tulpa?"
But she always got nothing of reply.
00:14 am.
Tulpa ambled up to the table, then sat down next to it, motioning to Rosaline to do the same. Rosaline did, felt her eyes widen. Her breathing stopped for a moment. The light was too dim to scan her expression.
"Brr... T-Tulpa, aren't-n't you free-eezing? This-s is so-o cold." Rosaline said.
"Nope, and nah it's not."
"Can-can I clo-se the w-wind-d-ow?"
"Just let it open, you shank, and feel the warmth, will ya."
"But I a-am f-freezi-ing..." Rosaline said.
"Just ignore. Don't give a bloody fuck on how you getting goose bumps. Don't give a bloody fuck on how this be like icy dew on your skin. Ya get me, sweetie? Don't you wanna play games with me huh?"
"I do! I d-do!"
Rosaline shrieked tinnily, her voice was downright chipper as knowing they were going to play very soon. Tulpa leaned against the wall. "Better not to play those fucking freaking dolls again okay, I'm sick of them!"
"O-okay, so wh-at about th-this?" Rosaline showed her car toys.
"Nope."
Rosaline winced her brow, then tried to find another toys. "What ab-bout this?" She showing her books.
"I'm not a nerd for God's sake. Nope."
"Hmm, th-this?"
"I thought I've told you I was sick of dolls, haven't I?!" Tulpa snarled.
"Oh r-right! I for-g-got hahahaha,"
Tulpa rolled her eyes. "Haha. Funny." Then she stood up. "What about another toys that are not here?" She said each words she could into the syllable. "I mean, we can go outside of this bloody room and find another... toys."
Rosaline's expression turned into disappointment. "You d-don't wan-nt to play-y with me-e?"
"Urgh, come on just go with me!" Tulpa jerked Rosaline's sleeve and headed to the kitchen.
"W-what are we-e search-ch-ing for, Tulp-pa?"
"A razor blade. It's in the kitchen, isn't it?"
Rosaline didn't answer. She was too excited to do this new kind of games until she realized what the razor blade was actually for. Her brow wrinkled up and she felt her eyes widen of curiousity. "For wh-what?"
But again, she got nothing of reply.
"Ah! It's ab-about the "r-red ink-k" r-right-t!?"
Tulpa glanced at her, amazed. "Whoa! Never thought that you're actually smart, sweetie."
00:40 am.
They were now in the kitchen, opening every food cupboard, intented on finding the razor blade. No, of course Rosaline never knew where the razor blade was.
They found nothing.
"No razor blade. What about knife? It's more thrilling I swear!" Tulpa suggested and Rosaline nodded as the answer.
Tulpa reached and pulled one of the knives lying on its place, then gave it to Rosaline. Rosaline sneezed, shivering due to the friggin' icy wind. Her teeth rattling.
Out of the blue, the lamp on the kitchen then turned on. Rosaline's eyes moved as the very light shone through the lamp. Her eyes tried to set to it. She turned around, seeing a heavily muscled figure wearing tight shirtsleeves standing about 9 feet away from her.
"Rosaline?"
"Da-ddy!"
Innocently, Rosaline ran to her Dad excitedly with a knive clutched in her right hand. Her Dad just realized it when the knive stabbed his arm, made the blood of his cascaded over his arm and trickled the floor down. The floor was flooded by the blood. The "red ink".
Dad's jaw persisted. He was seemingly both shocked and angry with what just happened a few minutes ago, with what just happened to him.
Tulpa secretly grinned in satisfaction, whispered to herself, "This is how the real game begun, sweetie." before finally she was gone.
No, Rosaline's Dad could never see Tulpa.
Only Rosaline who could. --ets280614

Him.

That boy is sitting in the corner of the dark side,
sort of hiding in the darkness,
sort of running away from the reality.
No,
he is not captivating.
He looks divergent though.
And no,
he is not expressing any discontent.
He looks eager though.
He's staring at God knows what,
that I don't really know what.
Assuming he's waiting for someone does hurt me.
I somehow kinda want him to notice me,
the stranger one who's initially don't give a dang about him.
'Til he starts to stare at me instead of staring at nothing.
He smiles,
and time suddenly stands still.--ets120614

My Soul?

"There's nothing to think about. There's nothing to debate about. Just run!" --Anonymous.

And here I am, running as fast as I can until I feel my feet dumb and I feel the blood rushing so fast in my veins. I keep running and yet don't know where I'm heading. Seriously, I don't even know where I am. Where is this? Trees, silence, darkness... and a 5'9 tall boy with hairstyle like James Dean's (you know, which has some natural wave in it, my girlfriend sait if effortlessly looks cool) and with pale skin running. Me.

And there's only me.

No, I don't really know what happened. I was chilling with some friends and my girlfriend in a cafe as usual, because I'm always free on Saturday. No school. No fake bitches. No annoying teachers. No mounting homeworks. And no fricking tests. We were so much having fun, we told some jokes, we laughed until our laughter echoed the room we were in, we kissed, we hugged, but then something whispered in my ears. Something which was like my own voice.

It's the time... Just run as fast as you can, don't give a damn on every freaking body who beg you to help them. If you help, you'll die.

I was scared, and I am actully still scared. It was a very eerie sensation when whatever that was whispering in my ears. However I didn't really care about it. Initially, I didn't really care about it.

Until that happened.

I heard people screaming so loudly. They ran... they ran while shivering. Their eyes stared at nothing. They started to bleed, from nose, ears, and mouths. All people, but me.

What's wrong with me? What's wrong with people?

And out of sudden everything stopped. Everything stopped in only a second. It's hard to believe that the previous second they were somewhat like zombies.

And now they stared at me deadly in the eyes.

I knew that I had to run, but I just sat with my trembling hands. "Why are you guys looking at me like that?" I asked. I know it was such a silly question, but whatever.

They kept walking towards me.

My mind worked hard and I asked to myself what should I do?

"Help... H-he-lp..." Her voice was so familiar. But, who? "Help..."

I tried to find the one who just asked for my help: Callysta. My girlfriend.

She no longer is your girlfriend. She's not Callysta... Again, that frickin' something whose voice was so much like mine whispered in my ears.

"Shut the fuck up. She is my girlfriend. I should help her no matter what! I believe the actual Lis is still there!"

And after that, she tried to hurt my wrist when I hugged her.

Run.

Everyone in the cafe became much crazier as ever.

Run.

Everyone in the cafe became more uncontrollable as ever.

RUN!

I ran as fast as I could without even looking back. What the hell is happening right now?! I asked to whatever that thing is but nothing came as an answer. I know you heard me, you dickhead! Tell me what's exactly going on here?!

That-whatever-thing chuckled. Keep running otherwise they will find you, Jared.

I still don't get it why "my own" voice chuckled in such this situation. I mean, fuck it. Doesn't it understand how scared I am? Nah, I don't dread it actually, I dread those people in the cafe insted. Well if only I still can call 'em "people".

The night is when I'm alive, Jared. I hide in the darkness, between moonlight and starlight. I walk without even knowing where I am heading because of you. I have been following you since forever but I can't posess you, ever. I don't know why. I'm so much like your shadow instead of your soul.

What?

I can't reason this.

Tell me, how the hell can you reason such this confusing thing, which was said by your soul, as you're running to avoid people who'd like to kill you?

BAMMM!!!

"Help... h-he-lp..."

I stop running. I'm gasping for oxygen. I look around, trying to find that bloody zombie.

Goodness, why.

It was my Mom. --ets110614

Colors Literally Can Speak!

PARTICIPATING IN NSO 2012

"WHAT?!"

I was very surprised when my Junior High School English teacher asked me to join National Science Olympiad for English subject in the middle of February 2012, while that day was actually the end of January already. Yep, so I only had about 2 weeks left to prepare for it. Well, actually I didn't know how I felt back then, either I felt in the pink or felt blue due to the sudden invitation. The problem was I had been in the 3rd grade of JHS already, I fckn should focus on National Examination, you know. However, since I'm not one of those who have a yellow streak, I just accepted it. Aside from that, I didn't want to make my beloved English teacher see red.

So, the next 2 weeks, on February 12, 2012, I went to Solo by train (actually with 2 teachers and 3 other students). It took us for about 9 hours from Bandung Station to Solo Balapan Station. Well, I bet it was a kind of white lies that I felt so cold (that I couldn't even omg it was like I was living in the coldest place ever) but I just said it's all good to my teacher next to me. I thought I was just caught red handed since she asked me such a question LMAO... I mean, hello, I only whitewashed the situation, pretended that I didn't feel cold, you know that.

The red letter day came eventually. It was on February 14, 2012. Yep, Valentine's Day, but I had to fight for winning the olympiad. I went to MTsN Surakarta 1, the place where the olympiad would be held, and guess what? The committees rolled out the red carpet when they saw me coming, LOL! I mean, I'm not queen for God's sake ROFL why should they have to do so?

Everything had not been blacklisted until the olympiad began. The fact that I have to tell you is that I am a person who is not really good at technology (aka I'm not a geek). I didn't check my laptop's volume before since I was fckn frickin nervous, I just started to do the olympiad.

But something wrong happened afterwards.

Its volume... or the back sound... or whatever, sounded VERY loudly!

I myself was very surprised that jumped a bit from my seat and I only talked to myself WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING RIGHT NOW DAMMIT while my hands busily pressed all buttons on my laptop's keyboard.

But still.

IT DIDN'T WORK, AT ALL.

Literally shucks.

You silly, Sa, literally silly. What the fck is this. What's happening.

I was blue in the face handling it all alone. No one helped me, just so you know.

I sighed. God damn it! How green I am! 

Out of the blue, a girl who sat in front of me turned around, stared at me (like I was the very weirdest girl alive, and omg she was such a creeper FFS), and then said something which actually should be red penciled. Goodness! She was somewhat--LITERALLY--browned off!

The next day, I went to Borobudur Temple. It was so much fun! It was a sunny day and I felt really in the pink. I saw a boy with his over the top posturing, some girls singing songs (fck their dissonant harmonies!), and... that boy. I turned green with envy seeing that boy, another contestant, buying a unique two-tone souvenir. I walked approaching the stand, giving the green light to buy the same souvenir. I intentionally brought more money in order not to end up in the red. Then I went happily... until I tripped over big stone and fell to the earth! I found myself black and blue all over when I looked at the reflection of me in the mirror.

Finally, the announcement of the winners was announced on February 16, 2012. Well, perhaps it was not my good luck since I was not the winner (someone who prayed for me may the odds be ever in your favor was probably no one, urgh). I only got the 95th rank from about 330 contestants.

Nevertheless, I had tried my best in this fckn competitive olympiad. What I need to do is believing that every cloud has a silver lining.

The Advantages of Taking A Tutorial Course

Education in this era becomes more challenging than it used to be. Why do I say so? Because students nowadays have higher demands to reach their realistic goals, and not to mention about the obstacles they should face. Let me take one obstacle as example which is technology. As we all know that technology has some benefits, but here I will focus on one of them which is as the entertain for people, such as games. That’s the reason why most students prefer technology to books and why most students’ academic performance become worse. Due to that, parents are sure to be worried, they will find the way how to make their children’s academic performance better. Based on the survey that I did, the first thing coming to most parents’ minds to overcome the problem is tutorial course, since it is very mushrooming nowadays, right? According to a web in internet, tutorial course is a class conducted by a tutor for one student or a small number of students and this way of study results in good effects. Taking a tutorial course causes the students to have scheduled study hours, improve their academic performance, and be goal-oriented.

            Having scheduled study hours is the first advantage of taking a tutorial course. Many students say that it is an utterly hard thing to study after school. They would play game or go to somewhere else before going home rather than study, review the lessons they just got that day, or do their homeworks. Consequently, they just study in school. However, with nowadays challenges and demands, studying only in school is not always effective, is it? Remembering how hard to get successful in the future when present education is challenging. Therefore, I can say that studying after school is needed, and tutorial course has the answer for it. Tutorial course makes the students have scheduled study hours. Having scheduled study hours definitely will make students easier to pursue their dreams. They have to get used to struggle and manage time well, which are the keys to success.

            The academic performance of students who take a tutorial course is different. It seems better indeed, proven by a research called “Private Supplementary Tutoring: Comparative Perspectives on Patterns and Implications” which was conducted by Professor Bray in Hong Kong University. The research says that “Students' academic results are improved after attending tutorial class.” Let me explain more about this. Students who take a tutorial course will get additional scores from teachers more often because they become more active in class ever since they take a tutorial course. They often raise hands to answer teacher’s questions since they have already learned the lessons first in the course. The lessons in class are understood fast by them, so when they have tests, their scores will be good and oftentimes, be the best in class. Most of the students who take a tutorial course then get the first rank and will be easier to be accepted in their favorite colleges. Therefore, improving their academic performance is the second advantage.

            The third, taking a tutorial course causes the students to be goal-oriented. Their self-confidences become higher since they know their academic potentials are good. Their frequent study and their study hours are enough to make them believe that they surely can be accepted in their favorite colleges. As a result, they enjoy studying and automatically will concentrate more while studying in order to pursue their realistic goals in the future. They focus their efforts on achieving them until they get what they want.

            All in all, taking a tutorial course has 3 advantages, which are having scheduled study hours, improving students’ academic performance, and being goal-oriented. When students’ study hours have been scheduled well, they can automatically improve their academic performance in class. At last, it can mold new good personality that is goal-oriented for students so that they can focus their efforts on achieving their realistic goals. If you want to get those advantages, then just take a tutorial course and I’ll make sure you will get them.

Created by Elsa Tamara Shalsabila

Movie Review: Wolverine

Wolverine tells us about a mutant names Logan who is immortal. He has lived many years and has powerful power to help people. His immunity is really strong, I mean he is bulletproof and his injury can be cured by itself so that he won't need any doctor to cure his injuries.
The story begins in Nagasaki, Japan, when America let atomic bomb fall to the area. There is one of Japanese soldiers names Yashida who is hiding inside something strong, and Logan protects him from the bomb. Yashida then thanks Logan for it. He gives samurai to Logan and teaches him how to hold the samurai well. Nonetheless, Logan ignores it and asks Yashida to keep it safe for him because he will come back someday. Yashida agrees.
Some years later, Logan lives in a forest with a bear which is actually his bestfriend. But then one day, the bear is killed and Logan searches for them who have killed it, until there is Yukio, a Japanese girl who is very good at using samurai. She asks Logan to go with her to Tokyo since her boss who is actually Yashida, asks her to do that. At first, Logan doesn't want to, but then he agrees. They go to Tokyo and Logan meets Yashida eventually.
Yashida is going to die, and his last wish is that he wants Logan to protect his granddaughter, Mariko, since he gives the throne to her. Mariko's father couldn't agree less about the idea because he really wants to be the next leader who can have the throne.
But when Logan protects Mariko from groups of criminals, slowly but sure, Logan becomes weak. He loses his power since there is something sticking to his heart. His injuries cannot be cured by itself anymore. One thing he knows that actually he is going to be human if he can't get that something sticking to his heart out. The problem is if he becomes a human, he surely will die. Someday.
And then Logan and Mariko escapes from Tokyo to Nagasaki, but then the groups of criminals kidnappes Mariko and then Logan tries to find her with Yukio's help. Before finding Mariko, Yukio says that she sees Logan will dia with much blood around (Yukio can foresee actually). Logan doesn't believe it. However, he tries to get that something sticking out of his heart and he successfully does it at last. He is still alive.
The ond of the movie tells us that actually Yashida hasn't died. He actually wants the immortality of Logan. He and his friend, Viper, makes a very powerful robot from metal to fight against Logan, and Yashida is inside of the robot. He cuts Logan's claws and tries to take power of Logan into his body. But fortunately, Marioko comes in the correct time, bringing the cut of Logan's claws and immediately sticks them to Yashida's neck and Yashida dies eventually. Logan is still and will always be alive.

Perihal Asa dan Kematian

Datu...
Bukankah 'tuk menggenggam asa,
dimensi dan detik hanyalah omong kosong belaka?
Lalu katakan padaku,
mengapa detik ini semakin terasa jua, Datu?
Jiwa ragaku 'kan berpisah tak lama lagi!
Bibirku pun takkan pernah mengulum senyum lagi!
Betapa penyakit ini seperti bisa, Datu...
Ia tak peduli akan peluhku.
Tak juga ia mengerti akan keluku.

Datu...
Gemeresik daun itu dulunya simfoniku.
Gemercik air itu pun dulunya simfoniku.
Sinar bulan temaram itu pun dulunya senantiasa menaungiku,
saat aku menulis.
Aku menorehkan segala asa dalam benak, Datu!
Namun kini aku hanya tepekur,
menunggu waktuku.
Tiada peduli, detik teruslah berpacu.
Tiada peduli, dimensi teruslah bisu.
Dan asa tiada jua bersua...
Yang memang takkan pernah.
Takkan pernah, Datu..
--ets070114

"Thrush Can Speak?!"

Hi. I’m Everest O'Neall, just call me Eve. Yes, that simple.

            I’m still 16. I am an easy-going person and I don’t feel stressed too much the way others feel due to tasks—well, at least I haven’t felt it for even once. And honestly I don’t know whether I am too stupid or… crazy or whatever, since I talked to a thrush and the thrush talked to me back!!! Yes, I myself still don’t believe this but I really experienced it! It happened when I was on my trip to Colorado, United States, some weeks ago. I went there when I was having my school vacation with some of my classmates. I mean, my crazy classmates. They always laugh everywhere at every little thing which is actually not funny at all, and they are sassy as well. And due to that, I turned to be kind of the personalities ever since I knew them. Ugh.

            We went to a mini beautiful forest in Colorado by bus. We left home at 9 o’clock in the morning and the trip took us for about an hour, until we arrived there. “WELCOME, MY TWINS!” with a picture of a smiling gorilla beside it, welcomed us warmly—well, it was annoying me actually. I’m too beautiful to be called “my twin” by gorilla, for God's sake.

After entering the forest, we saw various animals such as big elephants near a small pond, small ants which were standing in rows on big leaves, wild tigers in their cage, and many more. None of them hadn’t been taken their pictures by me.

I love taking picture indeed.

I’ll even do weird things only to take picture.

Yes, I have ever done.

And that time I did it again—the weird thing.

We were still a bit normal—I mean, not too crazy like laughing and sass—until Suzanna, one of my friends who’s a bit sassy said, “Hey Eve, I’d be very happy to buy you a new camera if you could draw the thrush’s attention and take a picture of it at the same second.” She appointed towards a very beautiful bird with combination of yellow, red, and orange feather which was perching on a high tree calmly.

I saw it.

But then I wondered, thrush should have black and white feather, shouldn’t it? Then why that thrush’s feather is yellow, orange, and red…?

“If you don’t want to, then you have a yellow streak, Eve.”

“Don’t underestimate me, Anna.” Then I walked arrogantly approaching the thrush (burung kutilang), but perhaps I walked so fast that made the thrush fly away. I heard my friends started laughing—again—and it made me really fed up. I followed the thrush immediately and left my friends behind with camera hung on my neck.

Haha, the thrush perched on a high tree eventually. I prepared to take a picture of it and stood underneath the tree, then 1… 2… 3…

Click.

My friends were walking towards me.

“Yeaaah, I succeeded, klutz! Remember you’ve to buy me a new camera, Anna, hahaha!” I laughed loudly, felt satisfied. “I don’t believe you’re that silly to ask me to do such a very easy thing, Anna.”

Anna sighed, then she said, “I wonder if you’re deaf, or you just forget, or you're very stupid, Eve. I said draw the thrush’s attention and take a picture of it at the same second, didn’t I?” She looked askance.

I looked aside and just realized that she really said that, but I forgot. “It means you have to make the thrush look at you while you're taking its picture. Got it?” Suzanna said.

Without answering Suzanna’s question, I reached for the thrush and found it still perching on the high tree.

No prior thought.

I climbed up the tree.

My friends laughed at me, but whatever. I didn’t give a damn.

I kept climbing up, climbing up, climbing up, until the beautiful thrush was right in front of me and fortunately, it didn’t fly away again and it looked right at me. I took my camera and said “Cheers!” to the thrush and… “Cheers.” Click.

“Wait, what?!” I asked to myself. “What?” I looked at it. I didn’t say cheers for twice.

“What?”

“Oh my God!?” I was very surprised when knowing the thrush could speak! Thrush just talked to me! I never heard that thrush could speak with humans before. “This is unbelievable, I want to run, I want to shout, oh my God you can speak, YOU JUST SPOKE TO ME, DIDN’T YOU, THRUSH?” Well, I forgot that I was still on top of the tree.

“I am not thrush.” The bird replied.

I was made really confused by it. “Not a thrush?”

“I am not thrush.” The bird replied the same answer. “I am not thrush. I am not thrush. I am myna (burung beo).”

“Myna? Oh your name is Myna?” Yes, to be honest, I was really stupid that time.

“No, you silly! Silly girl. I am myna. Myna.” The myna flew away and left me confused on top of the tree.

I still hadn’t noticed what the bird meant until I arrived home at 5 pm. I searched for Myna Birds in the internet immediately after arriving and… ugh.

“Why didn’t I think that myna is actually a kind of bird which is capable of speaking?! Of course it was not thrush, no thrush has ever been capable of speaking in this world!”

And now please don’t tell me I’m stupid or crazy or… what. The one who is so is actually Suzanna. She was the one who said first that it was thrush, not me. Heh. The end. --ets110913

Media Power and the Dangers of Mass Information

In this era, media no longer becomes a strange thing. It overwhelmingly influences not only us, as human being, but also the world's development in all aspects. Let me focus on one example which is television. Television is an utterly influential media that alters and distorts our perceptions of reality, and due to that, it results in enormous consequences.

When distant events that happen in another country, such as human disasters and Football World Cup, are showed on the television, it can influence our feelings. The delivery of real-time experiences in a sensational manner makes us share the daily both triumphs and tragedies of human race. Consequently, it results in a new kind of knowledge. Therefore, television alters our perspectives about world.

Second, television influences the process of thinking and deciding. The  progression which happens when we are reading and watching is obviously different. When we are reading, it is begun from words to reason, to conviction, and to action. On the other hand, it is begun from image to impression, to emotional reactions, and to action, when we are watching.

Television sometimes needs to distort knowledge since it always focuses on visual things, becomes the third point. Oftentimes, the things are photographed and then provoke people's emotions, and are dramatized at last. Salient things are frequently neglected though, as it doesn't come with pictures.

The fourth, television expands our knowledge. News shows, headlines, and dialogs or talks are programs that overwhelm our brain's capacity. Nevertheless, they create problems since everything is chopped into tiny pieces of informations until it is difficult to digest, analyze, and judge.

Those points cause enormous consequences for publicity. As we all know, television--as mass media--produces instant mass emotions, instant mass opinions, and mass pressures. Those 3 things force policymakers to act without prior thought and against their best judgements. Mass media have the power of not only magnifying as well as reporting conflicts of power, supporting, and harassing, but also explaining. These powers make it become both the collaborators and adversaries of government.

As we know, mass media greatly mold public opinion in orded to serve their needs. False issues and facts are often created due to that. They don't base on reality and displace truth, only to get the greatest media impact and public favor.

What we can do about this is by coming up a new kind of journalism that is "Preventive Journalism". It should try to identify the underlying causes of crisis before happening, rather than after happening. It is not enough to provide the videos-for examples-of war only, the underlying causes of it have to be provided either. This would require a different mindset and new techniques. It would mean looking deeply into societal trends on a sustained, long-term basis, so that public can know the process that might lead into a crisis.

Summarized by ETS from Michael J. O'Neill's essay

Economic Growth

As we know that the economy of our beloved country, Indonesia, does not stand a good chance of having as tremendous economic growth as China does. It is a far cry from China. Economic growth in China absolutely will always increase from year to year. The only question is whether or not the economic growth grows as very well as previous year? But let's see our country's economic growth. Will it increase in next year? How many percent of it? I bet our country's economic growth will still be a salient problem since there is one thing that has not been handled well by the government.

Poverty. Thousands or even millions people starve because of poverty now. They do not know where to live, what to do, how to survive. The job fields here in Indonesia are not as numerous as we expect. So how can they make our country's economic growth increase when they don't even have job or jobless, I ask? How can they be smart as Chinese to invent new technologies to make Indonesia's economic growth better in the next few years when they don't have enough nutritious foods or some of them even starve? Just keep dreaming if you still wish our economic growth will be as tremendous as China. Keep having that nice dream!

To conclude, that Indonesia stands a good chance of having as tremendous economic growth as China does is still impossible, I think. Poverty, which is still a big problem which had not been handled well by the government really has significant role in it. If the poverty goes to decrease, I bet then the economic growth goes to increase.

Written by Elsa Tamara Shalsabila on December 3, 2013

Demi Waktu

Demi waktu.
Katakan padaku saat cinta mulai menghampiriku.
Katakan padaku saat cinta mulai mengintip persembunyianku.
Katakan padaku saat cinta mulai menggerayangi pintuku.
Katakan padaku,
hanya itu.

Demi waktu.
Tegurkan aku saat cinta mulai merayap masuki relungku.
Tegurkan aku saat cinta mulai bermain2 di benakku.
Tegurkan aku saat cinta mulai butakan mataku.
Tegurkan aku,
hanya itu.

Dan demi waktu.
Belailah aku saat cinta mulai mengecup sendu.
Belailah aku saat cinta mulai merangakak menjauh.
Belailah aku saat cinta mulai menyentuh kelabu.
Belailah aku,
hanya itu. --ets011213

Kamu, adalah kamu

Kamu,
yg diam-diam datang,
tanpa ketukan dahulu.
Kamu,
yg diam-diam hipnotis bawah sadarku.
Kamu,
yg diam-diam merayap masuki relung,
pun jua jantung.
Kamu,
yg diam-diam tepiskan sendu,
gantikannya jadi rindu.

Adalah kamu,
rasuki benak tak kenal waktu.
Adalah kamu,
bisikkan senda tak kunjung kelu.
Adalah kamu,
merayap menyentuh relung,
pun jua jantung.
Adalah kamu,
tepiskan peluh, gantikannya jadi candu.

Kamu,
adalah kamu. --ets101113

Renungan Malam

Guys, mari berdiskusi barang beberapa menit yuk! Terutama bagi yang merasa memang termasuk pelajar SMA yang pintar dan rajin nih. Aku ada uneg-uneg yang hampir give up to solve it. Gimana sih menurut kalian, ketidakjujuran vs kejujuran? Siapa yang bakal menang? Nah.. yuk mari berdiskusi!
Gak ada satupun pelajar yang benar-benar suka/ hobby belajar. Menurut aku sih gitu, ya. Karena aku juga merasanya seperti itu. Temen-temen satu sekolaheun selalu nganggep aku ini such a nerd, such an eager beaver. Mereka kebanyakan mikir kalo aku tuh sort of obsessed with studying omg can't anyone convince them that in fact I DON'T LIKE STUDYING? Maksudku, aku memang terkesan banyak belajar, ngikutin 3 les dalam 1 minggu yg memakan waktu setiap harinya sampai harus pulang ba'da Maghrib.. tapi itu bukan berarti aku suka belajar kan? Aku cuma dituntut untuk bisa, at least mempertahankan nilai-nilai raport aku yang udah terlanjur tinggi dari semester 1, sedangkan kalau mau ke jalur undangan kan harus naik si nilai-nilainya sampai semester 5. Nah.. karena itu aku mati-matian berusaha keras supaya aku bisa tetap jadi juara kelas.
Tapi, guys, masalahnya bukan itu. Masalahnya adalah aku yang kalau ulangan terbilang lebih sering jujur, percaya sama kemampuan diri sendiri, harus bersaing dengan classmate yang setiap ulangan selalu ob alias open book. Pantas ajalah nilai-nilai ulangan dia bagus, dan dia jadi 3 besar juga semester lalu. Tapi guys, to be honest aku takut dikalahin sama dia. Aku yang cuma bergantung sama hafalan-hafalan di luar otakku dan pemahaman materi masa iya dikalahin sama orang yang bergantung sama bukunya? Maksudku, itu gak adil sama sekali kan? Kenapa dia bisa selicik itu, gak ngehargain usaha aku yang luar biasa melelahkan ini? Kenapa harus orang macam itu (read: licik) yang harus jadi 3 besar dan jadi ancaman terbesar aku di kelas?
Aku harus gimana, guys, kan gak mungkin juga kalau aku harus ikut-ikutan ob cuma demi tetep jadi yang terbaik di kelas. Seakan cuma mengejar nilai kalau begitu, bukannya mengejar ilmu, bener gak? Tapi kalau dia tetep licik begitu, ya bisa jadi kan ujung-ujungnya ketidakjujuranlah yang bakal menang? Dan aku... kalah? Wtf?!
Apa dia yang harus diberi pelajaran? Dinasihatin aja gak mungkin, dia (katanya) memang dari SMP selalu ob begitu, dan sebelnya tuh setiap kali dia ob, gak pernah ketawan sama guru. Semacam udah professionallah. Padahal aku ingin banget kali-kali dia ketawan ob biar mampus aja tuh namanya tercemar, guru-guru juga bakal lebih "waspada" sama dia, biar tau rasa, kalau jadi orang jangan begitu. Kasian yang udah belajar sungguh-sungguh, gak menghargai kan.
Aku benci banget sama uneg-uneg ini. Kenaikan kelas masih 4 bulan lagi... semoga kelas 12 nanti aku gak sekelas sama dia. Ya Allah tolong aku.. aku gak mau sekelas sama dia ya Allah, tolong.. aamiin. :((
Guys, gimana pendapat kalian? I'm kind of tired dealing with it lately. Please help! Xo

Persetan dengan Dimensi Ruang dan Waktu

Persetan dengan dimensi ruang dan waktu.
Tidak bisakah dibuang pergi saja?
Keberadaan mereka kentara sekali mengganggu.
Aku tak ingin ada yang memisahkan kita, tuan.
Masih tak pahami juga kau itu?

Persetan dengan dimensi ruang dan waktu.
Aku ingin mendekap segala rasa,
aman berada dalam rengkuhanmu,
nyaman merasa dicinta, tuan.
Mungkinkah? Tapi mungkinkah itu?
Aku tak tahu, dan memanglah demikian.

Persetan dengan dimensi ruang dan waktu.
Detik tiada peduli, bukan?
Oh pernahkah itu?
Aku ingin benamkan wajah,
dalam dadamu,
menikmati getaran listrikmu, tuan.
Ya, tapi detik terus saja berpacu.
Tidak bisakah dibuang pergi saja?

—ets171213

Kunci Cinta Tanpa Gembok

“Huh,”Gerutu Salsa kepada diri sendiri. Tas dilemparkan begitu saja tanpa lihat sekeliling, tak peduli buku-bukunya berserakan.

Sekolah hari itu terasa begitu tak berarti baginya, bagi Salsa Dwi, si cewek melankolis dengan kacamata tebalnya. Ya, baginya, hari itu terlalu menyesakkan, membuatnya sulit tuk hirup kehidupan segar yang biasa ia dapat. “Bagaimana bisa satu halsaja mampu membuat hari ini sepenuhnya tidak terasa baik?!” Lanjutnya kesal, seraya berganti pakaian dan duduk di atas tempat tidur. Otaknya selalu memutar balik saat-saat dimana Galih memberitahu apa yang selama ini tak penah ingin didengarnya.Ia melamun. Fokus matanya kian lama kian berkurang, menampakkan momen itu untuk kesekian puluh kalinya.

“Ayo, baris sesuai kelasnya masing-masing, berurutan dari absen terawal!” Perintah guru olahraga Salsa. Layaknya petani yang mengurusi bebek-bebek berjalan di jalan, bebek-bebek itu serempak melakukan perintah si petani.

“Sa, tahu tidak?” Tanya Galih tiba-tiba yang membuat Salsa terkejut. “Ternyata si itu sudah menyadarinya sejak jauh-jauh hari, lho,”

Detak jantungnya mendadak memburu. Desah napasnya menderu-deru, sungguh tak kuasa ia kontrol lagi. Satu hal yang ada di benaknya: Rakka peka.

“Sa?”

Serasa jiwanya melayang ke saat-saat dimana ia bersama Rakka. Kenangan demi kenangan terlintas cepat tak kenal waktu, tak peduli ia kini sedang berada di tempat yang tidak semestinya untuk berderai air mata. “Hah si itu?!”

“Iya. Dia curiga di kelas ada yang naksir dia dan dia curiga itu kamu, tapi…”

DEG! Jantungnya berdegup lebih cepat. Pemikiran negatif mulai bermunculan di benaknya.“Tapi apa?!”

“Dia gak mau ada yang suka sama dia, soalnya katanya sih, dia mau setia sama si Lina,”

            “…”

            Lemas. Mendadak konsentrasinya buyar, benar-benar terpecah. Bak jiwa tanpa raga yang rapuh, terjatuh, tak kuasa bangkit

‘Mungkin lebih baik telinga ini tak berfungsi sejak awal daripada harus mendengar semua ini, Tuhan… Bukan ini yang ku maksud agar dia peka…’Batin Salsa.

            Pelajaran olahraga pun usai.Kebetulan pelajaran selanjutnya tak ada guru. Ia manfaatkan untuk mencurahkan isi hati di selembar kertas yang masih suci. Bolpoin dengan tinta biru siap menari, juga alunan musik slow yang akan selalu menemani. Kata pertama yang ditulis adalah…

            Kamu.

            Ya, kamu: dia--Rakka. Satu-satunya hal yang amat mengganggu pikiran.

            Entah apakah ini benar, namun harus ku akui ini memanglah fakta. Seorang kamu peka? Oh Tuhan, aku tahu ini hanyalah mimpi, bukan? Tak bisakah Kau bangunkan aku?

            Bolpoinnya semakin lincah menari-nari di atas selembar kertas putih itu.

            Hm… Ketika ini semua hanya mampu terucap. Ketika perasaanku tak mungkin aku tunjukkan. Ya. Ketika semua hanya sebatas kata, yang ternyata perlu aku lakukan hanyalah sadari ini, bahwa kau tak mungkin miliki rasa yang sama. Segala tindakan bodoh yang telah aku lakukan demi kamu hingga detik ini sia-sia, bukan? Aku memang bodoh, ya, aku memang bodoh telah terus memperjuangkanmu sedangkan kamu… memperjuangkan dia.

Ah, bisakah kau jelaskan pada…

            “Sa? Lagi ngapain?”

            “Hah?” Sontak Salsa berhenti menulis. Kertasnya ia balikkan agar tak ketahuan bahwa ia sedang mencurahkan isi hatinya. “Engga, ini lagi nulis-nulis aja, corat-coret, hehe”

            “Oh, serius amat ya,” Vani duduk di sebelahnya, mengeluarkan novel dan asik membaca. Salsa diam beberapa detik, melihat situasi apakah bolpoinnya bisa melanjutkan menari lagi di atas selembar kertas yang kini sudah tergores tinta hampir setengahnya itu.

            …ku mengapa kemarin-kemarin matamu kerap kali bertemu pandang denganku dan kita saling tersenyum walau dalam hitungan detik? Apa itu namanya, jika bukan cinta, mengingat kau melakukannya tak hanya dalam hitungan jari, Rak?

Aku pikir aku yang salah dan kamu yang memang sulit untuk peka, sulit untuk menyadari perasaan bodoh ini yang dengan sendirinya datang tanpa ku undang… terhadapmu. Tapi mungkin aku harus bercermin lagi dan melihat segala sesuatu dari sudut pandang berbeda. Mungkin memang salahku, mungkin memang aku yang terlalu perasa, dan aku yang terlalu menganggap ini semua sepihak dengan perasaanku.

“Sa, kenapa?”

Salsa terkejut bukan main ketika mendapati Vani sedari tadi membaca tulisannya. Begitulah jika ia sudah berada di dunianya, seakan di dunia hanya ada ia dan hatinya yang terluka bersama kenangan-kenangan yang kerap kali menghantuinya,

“Eh, gak ko, gak apa-apa, hehe,”

“Masa? Segitu kamu galau gitu, cerita dong, aku udah baca dari awal, kenapa sih?”

“Kamu baca kok ga bilang-bilang, sih?!” Tutur Salsa berpura-pura marah.

“Ih bukan begitu, tapi ya aku…”

“Tapi apa?!” Tukas Salsa.

“Ma…”

“Lain kali kalau mau baca sesuatu milik orang itu minta izin dulu dong!” Tawa Salsa di dalam hati semakin meledak melihat ekspresi Vani yang serba salah.

“Sal, aku… aku…”

“Huahahahaha, sudah tak apa, Vani. Bercanda kok, yaelah, diambil hati banget, sih, kamu. Jadi… gini. Aku…” Tanpa diminta lagi, Salsa dengan sendirinya menceritakan semua. Dalam hitungan detik, wajahnya pun berurai air mata.

Pulang sekolah, seperti biasa ia kembali ke rumah sendiri dengan angkutan kota. Masih tak bersemangat memerhatikan sekeliling, wajahnya datar dengan mata sembap menatap luar jendela angkot. Tanpa terasa, air matanya jatuh--lagi!

Salsa mengerjapkan mata, kembali pada dunia nyata, di kamarnya. Duduk tepekur seperti itu membuatnya pegal, maka ia rebahkan diri.

Memang, semua ini bukanlah apa yang ia harapkan--tentu saja. Doa teman-teman di hari ulang tahunnya terngiang kembali, seakan cuplikan film bagian awal yang ia tak tahu bagaimana kelanjutannya.

“Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday, happy birthday, happy birthday to you!”

“Semogaaa si dia cepat peka ya sama kode-kode yang selama ini kamu kasih, Sa, haha, dia gak peka-peka sih, dasar cowok!”

“Ah tapi feeling aku sih dia udah peka, cuma pura-pura gak nyadar saja, hahaha,”

            Alis Salsa bertaut, wajah manisnya tergores senyuman kecil yang pahit mengingat itu semua ternyata berakhir seperti ini. Rakka peka, hanya saja masih tak mungkin lupakan Lina, kecengannya.

            “Apalah arti ku menunggu bila kamu masih menaruh hati padanya?” Bisik Salsa pada diri sendiri. Ia tersenyum masam, “Dan apalah arti semua ini, arti sorot matamu yang diam-diam kau tujukan padaku juga arti segala senyummu yang hanya kau berikan padaku, hah? Apa?!”

            Salsa masih tersenyum masam sebelum ia bangkit berdiri mengambil bolpoin biru dan Diarynya. Lembar demi lembar dibuka, hingga ia temukan lembaran yang masih suci, lagi—ia goreskan kata demi kata di sana.

            Saat ku terdiam, acapkali terbesit namamu. Saat ku ramaikan suasana pun acapkali teringat kenangan kita, saat sorot matamu menatap lembut mataku, dan senyumanmu… yang dengan mantap terarah padaku… betapa aku ingin berhentikan waktu, kala itu… bersamamu, Rakka, Hanya saja, ternyata cinta yang selama ini aku kira mulai bersemi di antara kita itu hanyalah angan, bukan? Dan mengapa tak kau beri tahu aku saja bahwa kau masih dan mungkin akan selalu memperjuangkannya? Mengapa kau biarkan hati ini teriris? Ya, pasti kamu pun tak menyadari bahwa pendar dari mata ini hilang dalam sekejap, bukan? Hah! Tentu saja.

            Rakka, bisakah kau memberi tahuku di mana aku harus menemukan gembok cintamu yang selama ini masih terkunci terhadapku? Apalah arti kunci yang selama ini ku pegang erat dengan penuh harap jika tanpa gemboknya?

“Ah ya, tepat sekali! Itulah kata-kata yang selama ini ku cari, ya ampun, haha,” Tawa Salsa dalam sedih. “Kunci dan gembok. Kunci yang tak mampu membuka gembok hatimu. Ya. Kunci cinta tanpa gembok.” --ets020513

Have You Ever?

Have you ever loved someone so much that makes you crazy?
Have you ever missed someone so badly that makes you cry?
Have you ever needed someone so much that makes you feel all alone when he's gone?
Have you ever been disappointed when he's already with someone else?
Have you ever cried when your relationship's been over?
Have you ever been pissed off when seeing him smiling to someone else?
Have you ever felt nothing when someone you love has forgot you?
Have you ever done something you thought it's the best for you two?
Have you ever done something to make someone smile though you're hurt?
Have you ever thought of someone all day long?
Have you ever fallen in love so much with someone that hurts you?
Have you ever done crazy things only to make someone happy?
Have you ever been haunted by someone you love all night long?
Have you ever been so happy that makes you smile when someone you love texts you?
Have you ever remembered memories you two did when you're listening to music?
Have you ever smiled in tears remembering memories you two did?
Have you ever cried knowing someone you love not loving you back?
Have you ever had a huge crush on someone that makes you tortured?
Have you ever admired someone from distance?
Have you ever missed someone so badly that makes you dream of him?
Have you ever wished to God to make you become his love?
Have you ever felt so blue due to someone that makes you want to write something out of it?
Have you ever exaggerated something due to love?
Have you ever cared about someone so much that makes you do anything to keep them safe?
Have you ever woken up in midnight then screamed someone's name since you miss him so much?
Have you ever closed your eyes but then appears the face of someone you love?
Have you ever thought "HOW IT HURTS" yet you keep doing it only because you love him?
Have you ever smiled in tears seeing him happy with someone else?
Have you ever lied to your parents only to have a date with someone?
Have you ever listened to songs that have history of you two?
Have you ever shared only one headset with someone you love?
Have you ever listened to the same music in one headset with someone you love?
Have you ever tried to convince someone "I DO LOVE YOU, PLEASE DONT LEAVE ME"?
Have you ever waited for someone so long that makes you tired?
Have you ever felt blue knowing you're just waiting vainly?
Have you ever felt tempted to hug someone and whisper "I love you."?

Have you ever wondered why you did those all?

You absolutely have ever thought the answer is due to fckn frickin LOVE.
Yes, you have.

--ets161113