SWORDS

Highlight dari tahun 2017 buat seorang Silmi mungkin adalah sebuah kata “mengenal”. Nggak cuman mengenal perasaan-perasaan yang baru kutau ada, tapi juga mengenal perasaan-perasaan lama lebih dalam. Nggak cuman mengenal negara-negara baru dengan suhu udara dan bahasa yang baru, tapi juga orang-orang yang berdiam dibawahnya. Perjalanan yang katanya disebut kehidupan ini kadang bosenin. Tapi terus pada suatu hari dipertemukan dengan Pablo dari Alaska, yang keliatannya lebih pantes jadi kakek gue ketimbang temen sekelas, yang sambil menyesap anggur Merlot beberapa kali bilang “life is boring”, dan masih bisa ketawa-ketiwi dan sama sekali nggak kelihatan kebosanan. Pablo Si Sesuka Hati, ekonom yang senang pindah-pindah (dan seringkali mengingatkan (lagi-lagi) akan kata “ Fernweh ”), yang pada akhirnya lebih memilih jadi guru Bahasa Inggris yang gajinya nggak segimana besar – tanpa sedikitpun menyesali apapun yang dia pernah buat. Hidup itu memang pada hakikatnya begitu-begitu sa...

Nggak sengaja baca sebuah kutipan dari Joko Pinurbo di sebuah halaman internet, rasanya perlu ditulis disini, for the sake of reminder: Kelewat paham bisa berakibat hampa. Paaaaahampahampahampahampahampa.....

Di banyak malam di dua tahun terakhir, kepala ini macem ibukota. Pikiran-pikiran di kepala macem kendaraan-kendaraan – berlalu lalang, macet, klakson sana-sini, dan tak jarang, bertabrakan. Dan, juga seperti ibukota: ini bukan hal yang baru! Pastinya ada lebih dari sedikitnya lima juta orang di luar sana yang juga punya kepala sepadat ibukota – atau bahkan lebih – yang membuat sebuah kalimat terlintas berkali-kali: kalo aja kehidupan adalah makhluk hidup, pasti bakal gue bully abis-abisan. Antara marah dan menyerah, entah mana yang lebih besar. Sampai, pada suatu malam, masih di ibukota, sebuah percakapan antara dua orang anak berumur 8 tahun tiba-tiba tersajikan di kepala. Dua anak itu adalah aku, dan (sebut saja) Sui. Sui pernah cerita kalo bapaknya keras dan suka mukul karena hal sepele, kalo kedua orangtuanya sering berantem, dan kalo ibunya sering menangis. Suatu hari Sui yang malang bercerita sambil sedikit-sedikit ngeluarin air mata, bahwa kalo dia baca buku, dia perlu ...

Hampir 48 jam penuh terngiang sepenggal lirik: Ah, kau, Puan kelana Mengapa musti kesana? Jauh-jauh Puan kembara Sedang dunia punya luka yang sama

Taken from a page of my (very personal) 2015 journal. I thought of Love as this sacred thing one could only touch after certain rituals. But then Love comes spontaneously beneath the wings of the wild butterflies that attack my stomach without any warning. Love comes along with the hopelessness and an indescribable tiredness after a day full of shits. Love comes with a little smile and sarcastic tone. Love is careless, skeptical, and a little bit rude. But seeing Love is sweet, like a real-life version of Here Comes Your Man by The Pixies . Remembering Love is warm, like a random hug from the back that shakes me to my bones. Love isn't interested in most of the things I talk about, not even sees me in the way I have expected. Love is nothing like what I see every night in my dreams. But I know, I always wanna be awake everytime Love pops on my mind. Although, Love is just kidding!

Got a weird late night urge to post one of my favorite spoken poets reading one of my favorite poems. Sharing is caring, no?

I’ve officially lost count on how many times have I tried to find a decent sentence to start this post. One of reasons to it is maybe because my teachers have talked too much about writing techniques, that there has to be an understandable flowing transition from sentence to sentence, paragraph to paragraph, which makes me think a lot more before I write anything. As one hell of an easily distracted person, that sure is quite a big deal for me. I guess I have just finally come to realize that I just have to write things down, no matter how shitty this post is gonna be then. It sure is much better than having so many words, emotions, and thoughts bouncing inside my head all at once for one more day. With all my heart, I really hate to admit to myself that I am currently facing a self-crisis, in which I have to be trapped inside deadly routines and postpone a little while again to do what Maslow believed, and what i agree, as human’s main need to be internally alive ; sel...

I can fluently narrate how things could easily fall apart, how two lovebirds could become strangers in a matter of seconds. I've witnessed many patterns of relationships: how they begin, how they affect our routines - and our heartbeats, and how they finally reach their last pages. But yet, for some reasons i still want to take this chance and risk my own self to possibly be broken, one more time. There are too many uncertainties and insecurities this guy and I must consequently encounter along the way, often we question each other of what is real and eventually grow even more anxious and fragile. But it is precisely when we’re anxious and fragile can we actually become brave and finally see the beauty in whatever we see and whatever we have. And to it he responded, "when you bite your tongue when you eat, it hurts, but do you blame the food? Or the teeth? Or the tongue? Or just let go and keep chewing?" I'll make sure that i'll keep chewing. __________...