Friday, 5 September 2014

Ada Cerita di Suatu Pagi

Ada cerita di suatu pagi
Tentang denting jemari
Dan hembusan angin
yang memenjarakan rindu
Mengikat tepiannya pada gerigi atap
Lekat, meski didera hujan

Cerita di suatu pagi
Melafalkan makna kulit
di atas kulit
Berkisar di pelataran rutuk
yang menganak sungai
Gemericik sunyi, menyingkap letih
yang tersembunyi

Di suatu pagi
Berkisah langit pada rumpun nimbus
Berkisah terang mentari pada Icarus
Berkisah rumput pada janji-janji lampus

Suatu pagi
Hangat menjelma jadi emas
Siluet menjelma jadi berlian
Insan menjelma jadi arang

Pagi
Saat semua pungguk, pesakitan,
tersembuhkan
Lalu kembali sekarat


5 September 2014

Siluet menjelma jadi berlian

Saturday, 30 August 2014

15 Questions Tumblr Challenge (2)

If you could have been told one thing that you weren’t told when you were a teenager, what would you like to have heard?


I'm still a teenager though.

Sometimes I wish someone would call me beautiful, someone who weren't my parents. However I think it is stupid and kind of creepy but really relatable for most teenage girls so that's it.

Most of the time I'd like people to tell me that I matter. Not just for social manner and sweet revelation, but because they really do think and feel that I matter. This. 

And the last, I want to be told anything people feel about me, good or bad, and how I affect them and how they want to react around me, to create any impression in my presence for certain reaction, or whether it was worth it to do so for me. Whether or not I make them feel.

I'm still a teenager though, so who knows.

Caserolle.. Eh, Casserole

Assalamualaikum :)

Sudah lama saya tidak menggunakan kata 'saya' dan menyapa dengan sok alim :p

Hufft, akhirnya selesai juga rangkaian acara akhir pekan ini. Walaupun lelah, tapi nyenengin dan banyak banget manfaatnya. Acara apakah itu? 

Apa yaaaaa??

Ceritanya besok aja ya. Soalnya sekarang mau cerita yang lain.

Ceritanya tentang casserole. Tapi sebelum kalian membaca cerita saya tentang casserole, saya harus cerita sejarah panjangnya dulu. Oke? Oke.

Saya adalah seorang fangirl. Dan sebagaimana kalian ketahui, para fangirl itu sudah biasa malming-an nggak keluar, tapi malah pada baca fanfic. Kalian jangan salah dulu. Fanfic itu bukan cuma buat seneng-seneng imajinasi ketemu artis dan blah blah blah. Ada komunitas fanfic yang 'niat' banget sampai bikin awards tiap enam bulan sekali. Award-nya nggak main-main. Teknik menulis dinilai, kesegaran ide dinilai, tata bahasa (berhubung kebanyakan komunitas fanfic internasional, jadi pake bahasa Inggris) dinilai, potrayal atau penggambaran karakter tokoh yang diperankan artisnya juga dinilai.

Ada satu fanfic di One Direction Fan Fiction yang judulnya Sugar on the Asphalt. Gula di atas Aspal. Haha. Ceritanya tentang cewek Amerika bernama Graceland Ainsworth yang berasal dari daerah kota kecil di Tennesse. Itu lhoo, daerah yang terkenal gegara musik country-nya yang rada koboi itu. Grace, panggilannya Graceland ini kabur di umur sembilan belas tahun ke London karena suatu konflik keluarga. Di London, Grace kerja jadi asisten rumah tangga sekaligus pengasuh anak dari bussinesswoman yang namanya Rebecca. Terus suatu hari Grace disuruh anterin paket sama Rebecca dan dipinjemin mobil buat nganter. Grace-nya kan bingung karena belum familiar sama daerahnya, dan dia muter-muter nyari tempatnya dan tanpa sadar dia nabrak seseorang. Seseorang itu adalaah... Harry Styles. Dan dari situlah cerita dimulai.

Monday, 25 August 2014

Winter Drawing/Writing Challenge (Day 1-Sweater)

My alliance with sweaters started long ago, before I can even spell my name or count to ten or distinguish purple from a spectrum of reds. I can measure it outside the bonds of academic marks. I wore sweaters long before I can feed myself.

The first sweater of my childhood memory was one that was knitted, orange and blue with cute little black buttons on the chest as an accent. It was a little itchy but very very warm. I liked it so much that I wore them almost every night, as I cheer over the moon or the ceilings of my old bedroom, which was the coldest room in the house. It kept me warm. It protected me, hugging me just the way I like it.

But that sweater caught my earrings too often with its woolen threads. When I woke up I'd find myself pulling my earring out of the mess and as a result, the thread loosened. I ruined it, and I was only three.

Since then I asked my mom for more sweater and refuse to wear jackets. I didn't care if they were itchy or soft, because I felt like it protected me. From the haunting cold, ghosts under my bed, monsters in the cabinet, and the thoughts of the stars collapsing to the ground and then the nights went colder, untouched.

Sweater and winter, perfect match. When winter comes I'd laundry all my sweater by myself and put them in order by their thickness. Thin, medium, thick, super thick, medium. So that I can caress them over. From top to bottom and feel myself slipping away to the years that I've passed, or the years that passed me.

In winter, they'd smell like cloves and coffee beans, and maybe a little cinnamon and jasmine. That's because I go the coffee shop a lot in winter. Inhaling crisp air and letting sun leaking its light through my flesh and into my bones on the way, running my fingers on the fabrics. Just because.

They might be hidden under coats and capes, but nothing I'd rather cover myself with than its warmth. Its steady warmth.

My alliance with sweaters started long ago, and it won't end soon.

15 Questions Tumblr Challenge (1)

You were just given a yacht. What would you name it?


 I'd name it Hector, or Granada. Depends on how it looks like. And if it looks like both Hector and Granada, then I'll just think of a proper ship name.

See what I did there?