His Glorious Death Pt.2

It was just after summer when school starts ten years ago; the year I made an acquaintance with Joshua, the kid who was just as energetic as he was when I met him in his last days.

“Valerie, right?” All the vibration in this words flirt

“You are?” I asked, rather uncomfortable with all that was going on

“Joshua; rather to be called ‘Posy’ with those of who pampers me – in which you looked like one”

“The heck?” I said, clearly annoyed

“Wait, seriously, you’ve forgotten? Joshua, though, from elementary? You used to call me ‘Posy’ for some reason and that got stuck with me every time.”

“NO. WAY!”

And yes, it turns out that he was the Joshua that used to be my elementary friend. And no, I have never remembered him. I wouldn’t say that we were friends, really. First of all, I’ve had a lot of friend called Joshua during elementary. Second of all, I’d only let myself play with him once and that was merely letting him run and find me during a hide and seek on sixth grade – which was nothing compared to the large number of kids playing. And third, there was also this other time when I’d let him touch my hand and walk along the corridor together because I was so sad and he’d insist to make me feel better – which happened during fourth. Josh told me all about this, of course.

All conversation went on easily after that. His charm won all the attention I’ve got until I can’t hold my words any longer to spit out that “shit. How did you get all these good genes and get so handsome?” sentence.

3 years of getting to know Joshua as I never remembered of knowing him made us closer than we intended to be. We became more than just classmates – we are soul-mates.

This Josh would tease me like hell just because I’d let him held my hand during elementary and completely forgotten all about it.

This Josh would be my ultimate teammate when it comes to teamwork; because we trusted each other so much and our values in working aligned as bad as some other pairs were that we became inseparable.

This Josh would protect me as if I was his girlfriend when everybody knew Josh had been single all along (he wasn’t interested in any of those girls, if I could still clearly recall).

And this Josh, to let everyone know, has never been more alive than when he was in the waters; when he swam. I never liked him better when I saw he swam. He was just so good at it.

Anyways, Josh could’ve got any girl he wanted. He was a charming bad-ass. A perfect specimen to love. But no, Josh hadn’t touch a single hand of a girl ever-since fourth grade. He have had an ultimate crush to this girl that he never outgrew. A lot of girls pursue him, but he was never interested – especially not after this girl came back marching into his life again after 3 years missing; and it was then he perfectly knew that he was meant for this girl for the rest of his life.

“Josh?” I called him one time as we were heading down to the first floor, where our canteen were. It was the year we were freshman, long before I even thought of liking him anyways.

“What was it like to never get interested in anyone? You know, to not to want to touch their boobs or whatever. You’re not gay, are you?” I asked

“Well, first of all, you must’ve had some big guts to say someone as charming as I am to be gay. Thankfully, I am not gay”

I laughed. I knew he was right. I do have big guts. But I wasn’t into pleasing him, so I felt alright confronting him with anything I wanted.

“Second of all, I’ve liked multiple girls. Yet, I’ve never dated any. And yes, I do want to touch boobs whatsoever before my life ends, really. But I can’t touch anyone whom I can’t commit my love life into. So there’s that”

Well, there was the start of liking Josh, I guess. He made everything of loving him so effortless that I didn’t see sophomore year coming already. He was more charming than ever by then when he’d actually dance with me during the senior prom in which he was invited to – perks of being the senior’s favorite, he would say.

But prom night, oh Lord, would I never get the chance to have another night like that.

Josh let me dance with him round and round the circle without speaking; minutes spent of touching his rough and tough working hand; laying a smell of his smartly sprayed tuxedo; minutes that were spent alone on the luxurious hotel verandah with a drink on one hand and another on my spine. I was more than thrilled that night.

It was the night he told me he was madly in love with the lady on whom he danced all night with, the lady whom mesmerized him every time they talked. How badly he wanted to spend the rest of his life with this person, the person who’d touch his hand during elementary school and let it comfort her; even though she probably still hadn’t had any clear idea that it happened. This Josh, yes, is in love with me. Madly.

And let me tell you something important: that to have someone you’ve actually known for so long to like you when you’re actually falling for him as well was miraculous. But that night holds more than just the spoken feelings. It holds secrets he’d never told me about himself. It was the night everything broke down – the systems of his body; the tumor in the brain.

Sadly, the day that dates our strengthen bond also dates his destined death a year later.

But the lie never hit me then. It hits me a year later; when he was actually gone – for good. –red

TO BE CONTINUED

Observashit: Observasi La Kebodohan

Udah lama, ya, gue ngga bikin entri yang geblek sejak kapan tau terakhir gue membahas kebodohan? HAHAHAHAHAHA. YES. ITULAH MASA LALU GUE YANG KELAM. YOIII, you know what’s coming.

Sebelom edisi kedua “His Glorious Death” gue upload, gue pengen bikin entri yang dulu gue selalu lakukan sebagai remaja geblek (emang sekarang engga, Glor? HAHAHA SIAL. OKE SIP GLOR BHAY).

In case kalian bingung kenapa gue jadi bocahan gini, tolong diingat bahwa gue bukannya lupa minum obat. Plis deh, gue ngga minum obat apapun kecuali obat pengencer dahak (emang ada? ADAIN LAH) sankingan gue keselek ingus gue sendiri sebelom ini.

Oke, observasi gue.

1.      Kita sebagai cewek memiliki keuntungan yang cukup signifikan kalo mau menentukan cowo yang sesuai dengan kelompok usia kita. Gini. Kalo kalian cukup observatif seperti gue yang kece ini, maka kalian akan sadar juga bahwa kelompok usia seorang manusia setengah setan ditentukan oleh celana yang digunakannya: semakin tua makan semakin lebar juga celananya. We are now in the ‘skinny jeans’ era, you know.

Temen SD gue yang dulu gue anggep cakep aja skarang pakeknya skinny jeans. BEH. Kurang kece apa mak. Gue sih yang dulu demen malah jadi ilfil sekarang (PS. Kalo sampe bebeb gue nanti ternyata pakek skinny jeans juga, tolong tampol gue kalo ketemu). Tapi kalo disuruh milih antara dia sama om-om celana jins gedombrongan, sih, mendingan temen gue juga. Psh, please.

2.      Seiring dengan menjamurnya kantor notaris didaerah Tangerang, gue jadi eneg sendiri liat even plangnya – macem alfa sama indomaret gitu dimana-mana ada. Serba salah ngga sih sama hal-hal yang menjamur gini; sebenernya sih perlu tapi kalo kebanyakan juga bingung mau pilih yang mana giliran perlu – cem milih cowok jatohnya. HAHAHAHA. OKE LANJUT.

3.   Belakangan ini bokap gue lagi ultra sensi sama orang. Gue rasa kalo bokap lagi kesel dikit bisa disenggol bacok kalo bokap bawa-bawa senjata. Terakhir, bokap gue sempet ngatain orang “ngetot”. Wah, gue kira angkatan gue doang yang doyan kata-kata begituan – itupun dipakenya buat kasus ngeledekin orang; bukan ngatain beneran. Kayanya sekarang bukan cuman gue sama nyokap doang yang PMS. Gawat. Eh, apa bokap malahan udah mau menopause? #mati

4.      Gue lagi dengerin christmas albumnya PTX ketika gue mikir: mereka menyanyikan sebuah holiday yang umumnya dirayakan oleh masyarakat Amerika – lagu-lagu yang mungkin juga merefleksikan kepercayaan mereka. Nah, kalo misalnya PTX muslim, gimana ya? Nada minor apa yang akan mereka pertama nyanyikan? HE. HEHE. EHEHEHE. NGGA, NGGA NGEBAYANGIN.

5.      Masih dengerin PTX dan pas lagi diputer lagu “Mary, did you know?” gue jadi mikir lagi: kira-kira, dengan Maria ngambil tanggung jawab itu sebagai ibunya Yesus secara fisik, apakah kemudian Maria secure a spot for herself in heaven? Gatau juga, sih. Namanya juga kepikiran doang kan ya.

6.      Pertanyaan gue yang kali ini dateng pas ada percakapan bonyok tentang ada anak kecil (yang gue yakin adalah titisan pengemis) yang disuruh jualan tissue kering di jalan raya Bogor plus berita Angelin ditivi mobil. Percakapan berlangsung kira-kira seperti ini:

Nyokap: Eh eh! Liat deh... itu ada anak kecil masa disuru jualan tissue?

Gue: orangtuanya macem apa ya... gila aja anaknya disuru jualan

Bokap: yah, jualan tissu paling gampang kali; murah dan untungnya lumayan

Gue: *sial, kok bokap malah jadi ngedukung mereka sih*

Nyokap: tapi kan kasiaaan... anak kecil masa udah disuruh kerja aja?

Gue: Iya ya, orangtuanya mana tanggung jawabnya coba?

Nyokap: tadinya mau beli aku. Tapi, ah gajadi lah! Gaboleh beli! Nanti mental mereka rusak! HUAH

Terus dari situ kepikiran lah oleh gue, statement maha gaul berikut ini: ngapain juga ya orang miskin ngemis kalo mereka sendiri sama aja ngga sejahteranya?

WAW! SUPER SEKALI PAK GLORIA!! (?!@#$%^&*). Tapi mungkin, daripada mereka ngga ngapa-ngapain di rumah dan ngga bisa makan gara-gara ga ada duit, mungkin untuk saat ini mengemis adalah pilihan terbaik yang mereka miliki...

7.      Gue udah bosen banget sama lagu “Love Me Like You Do”-nya Ellie Goulding. Tau kan, semacem lagu “Up Town Funk”nya Bruno Mars yang keseringan diputer di pusat-pusat perbelanjaan gitu sampe kita sendiri hafal reffnya walopun gatau awalnya? IYA, KAYAK BEGITU TUH. Udah diambang gondok berlebih sih, lebih tepatnya. Tapi kadang gimana juga sih, giliran nemu cover “love me like you do” yang dinyanyiin sama Todrick Hall, gue malah langsung mewek dan ketagihan. Sial. It sounds so sincere that it broke my heart – padahal masih jomblo juga. BEH.

Mau lanjut lagi???

UDAH DULU YAH. UDAH.

Jangan ketagihan gitu. Ntar kalo sampe kalian kejang-kejang ketawa didepan panci berisi indomie goreng yang bentar lagi mateng kan ngga lucu (terus indomienya abis itu gue colong; boleh juga sih).

Kasihanilah otak kalian yang sudah bebusa itu.

Yak, bebusa. Bebusa karna gue terlalu gaul #HOEK –red

Dear God

Dear God,

I know prayers shouldn’t be in the form of letters because it’d be too cheesy or too readable to others when it’s supposed to be between just the both of us or terkesan nyogok dan ngga penting buat orang lain untuk tau doa gue, but hey, if writing a prayer is also a way of expressing fear, faith, and whatsoever, You would still read it, right? Because this is one of those expressions of fear I do not know how to express except in prayers and in words of type. So, this is how it came up: writing a prayer letter.

I promise it’d be as bad as the usual prayers I’ve said to You, though. HAHAHA.

Anyways, God. Here’s the thing. College is just around the corner and as good teenagers would, I’m damned about thinking too much about what I will face. You know, the usual “ntar kalo begini gimana” and things like that, right? Right, those were the things I am about to talk about.

I am currently in a state of desperate sadness, if not too desperate to say as “almost as courageous as dead”. But Lord, You know me: I’m the indeceisive girl who didn’t know anything of her values with no rights to hate but hates anyway. I guess we all lived in a world where what the society thinks we should be is the reality; that what they ask of us is what we should do; and that we wanted to be different but afraid of being different ourselves. I wanted to be accepted; but I don’t know how I should act when I finally become one of their pack members. I don’t know what’s right; I can’t be nothing but a creeper; I can’t be “the same”. One part of me knows that I won’t fit but my head keeps begging me to fit in.

I’ll tell You what, God, I’m just basically tired. I’ve been tired almost half of my 17th years and now half of my 18th. I’m tired of being the introvert. I’m tired of being the weird one – even if “weird” is the term I would only use to myself. I’m tired of just noticing and not able to take actions as fast as others. I’m tired of both judging myself and judging others and being indecesive. I am tired of trying to fit in. I. AM. TIRED.

I’m not saying that I’ve given up yet, but I’m tired; scared. I’m even scared to be scared. Because when people say they hate something, they would turn into that something and becomes as hateable as the thing they hated initially. At first, I thought it would be great to be oblivion to those frightening things, but I found out just recenly that it would make me even weirder because they will think that I’m not living as regularly as they are – that I don’t know how to feel to certain kind of things. Really, though, should all teenagers be feeling this? Dude, no wonder we’re the anomalies of the universe.

Back to what I’m afraid of.

Scary thing number one was the thing I mentioned above: not being accepted. Well, I’ve had that “not feeling accepted” all my life though so I shouldn’t feel as afraid as some others are, I guess.

Scary thing number two, is being pulled down to the wrong society, though, God. I’ve been indecesive my whole life and even though I’ve had this natural gift of intuitive, I tend to divert on the wrong kind of life, You know. Yes, You’ve probably designed me to be wanting a little bit too much to break myself down in order to help rehabilitate others or such stuff; but how can I do it in my own too? To help rehabilitating others is a thing, but not being drowned in to darkest world and not being able to go back to the light is another thing. I’ve got one foot in and one foot out. I haven’t pick a side yet. I’m scared of it – but I still can’t make myself choose in the mean time. Gosh, I’m pathetic, aren’t I?

The third and last to all scariness this whole world holds is as bad as the second one: I’m afraid that I won’t realize my limitations that I helped people beyond what I can repair myself. That should’ve been a good sentence to explain. I do not know any other way to reveal it.

As indecesive as I’ve been all my life though, God, I’ve decided to leave my whole matter of life and death and whatever’s within it to You – everywhere, everytime, anytime. I do want to leave the matter of my soul in safe hands so that I’d be choosing wisely. So, shall we meet again soon? I love you Daddy. –red

His Glorious Death Pt.1

There was this house near my very home today that used to withold the life of someone I truly cared about. I wouldn’t exactly say I love this person, really because the truth is that I don’t actually know how I really feel for this person until I truly lost him – that he  had actually been my significant other. I used to be disoriented from the difference of what loving and caring could’ve brought me except for the fact that love destroys any kind friendship we used to have with someone. He was my significant other because we were so good together all throughout highschool that everybody thought we grew up together in this very neighborhood when we have just actually met each other that first day of freshman.

But he died anyway, you know. We just can’t help it.

It was midnight when the screen to my phone lights up; when the caller ID shows his brother’s name on screen. I wouldn’t expect a death, actually. He was on his A-game when we last met; which was only a few days before it occured.

“Val” A strangled voice acknowledged me from the other end of the line.

“Jer? What’s up?” I asked, hoping for something good to hear in which I know I wouldn’t happen. There was this desperation in his voice I’ve never heard before.

“Josh is in the ER again. Seizure caused by this huge-just-recently-found tumor in his brain stem. I think he might not make it this time. The Gleneagles, as usual. Get in through the left-est door of the hospital. I’ll get you from there. 15 mins?”

“Sure,” I said, almost choking myself.

As soon as I got there, Josh, the literal significant other to my life were in lots of tubes and injections as he stayed unconscious. He has been in the ER for at least five hours and was undergoing the operation to remove the remains of the tumor in his brainstem when I came. He was moved to the highly restrictive room after the operation team did what they could to extend what life Josh deserved with that agonizing terror when none of anything of his is actually extending except for the suffering if it wasn’t for death a few hours later.

Jerome, his brother and a few other family members rounded around Josh’s bed and were heading outside to give me a little private session with Josh. Jerome stayed voluntarily to help me, he said, helping to do what I don’t know. We’re all tired of all the waiting and the worrying, I know. But we couldn’t do more than to grief – unbelieving that they’re still in the running to hope for Josh’s recovery.

I could never go back to my old neighborhood if it wasn’t for Jerome that day we came back to revisit. Not long after Josh’s death, it became too unbearable for his family to keep staying at that household without constant rememberance of Josh’s existance. That’s why they moved. I easily moved as well because I was to study abroad just a few days after he passed – and the day I came back home to my homeland happened to also be the day Jerome came to get me griefing; again.

Wait, no. It was a week after I came back, actually. I have almost recovered from the scar Josh’s death had caused me until I realized that it won’t wholefully heal unless I went for a little trip to his old house and mourn thoroughly – a trip in which I found out Jerome came for as well that evening.

The room that once was always well lit on the second floor is now mostly dead – was it ever even been lit again after all those years. Even the whole house would’ve been an intended ruin if it wasn’t for the other neighbor which faithfully turns on the front lights regularly to illuminate the exterior a little bit.

“You remembered what the doctor claimed after his death, though?” Jerome said with his teary eyes after a lengthy hug we exchanged.

“Yeah. It still hurts; like bad. As if Josh has done trying himself that he’d let it pass”

“Screw that.” Jerome said, obviously crying

“It’s been 4 years eversince and I still hadn’t get over his death, you know. I still feel we could’ve done better” He continued

“No. Hey, listen. Listen to me. Josh’s dead. There’s no more blame to put on – not you, not me. We’ve helped all we can even though that kind of ‘help’ would never feel as worthy as any pain his death’s been strangling us” I tried not to comfort him as much as I know that those kinds of words wouldn’t comfort me anyway. But what more can I do?

After what it felt like forever, finally Jerome said it. His words that will forever affect how I see my infinity:

“But you know what I mean, right? That we would’ve never survived his lost, even if we wanted to forget him so bad. We both know it because we were literally there before he really died. I remembered you said you didn’t want him to go and so did I prayed. But what did it gave us? Still a loss we couldn’t help – humanity has lost one other of their most worthy fighters. We, one day, will also die and leave a scar to the people surrounding us. I hoped I kind of do what he did, you know, to die as meaningfully as he did. He is a forever a fighter to me even though the world forgets it.”

Gosh, did I cry that night along with Jerome as a quiet gush of wind sings its lullaby. But I remembered, Josh. I remembered everything. You couldn’t have wanted me to forget any of it, could you? –red

TO BE CONTINUED

Ketidaknyamanan Gue

Sejauh ini, ada dua hal yang selalu ngganggu gue ketika gue berada ditengah keluarga besar bokap – yang biasanya terdiri oma gue dan beberapa om dan tante gue lainnya.

Hal yang pertama masih bisa gue toleransi dengan ngga ngedengerin mereka karna hal pertama yang bikin gue ngga nyaman adalah pembicaraan mereka mengenai dunia.

Iya, kalian semua lebih mengenal gue daripada keluarga gue sendiri bahwa pandangan gue mengenai dunia ini tuh terlalu fana jadi gue males banget sama pembicaraan macem itu. Terlalu bullshit, if you’re familiar with it. Menurut gue mendingan tune out of conversation sekalian biar ngga makin sedih. Gimana ngga sedih, sih kalo pembicaraannya bukan tentang pembunuhan baru-baru ini, gosip selebriti, ato mengenai korupsi? Udah eneg gue sama obrolan yang begituan entah kenapa.

Tapi beda sama hal pertama, hal kedua ngga bisa sepenuhnya gue toleransi dan tune out of karena accusations mereka mendarat langsung buat gue. Entah ini gue yang terlalu sensi atau gimana, tapi gue benci banget dibandingin sama salah satu saudara sepupu gue seakan dia selalu lebih baik dari gue – seakan dia lebih sempurna dari gue – seakan dia lebih bisa dari gue.

Ato kalo mau lebih nusuk, gue bakal bilang gue ngga sesempurna dia – secara fisik maupun secara mental. Padahal, fisik gue juga lengkap kok sama kaya dia.

Mungkin kesamaan kita hanya sejauh “kelengkapan fisik” aja. Menurut mereka abis itu semua tentang gue ambles.

Yep, karna gue anak tunggal kali yah makanya gue ngga biasa dibandingin.

Yep, karna gue jauh lebih reserved dari dia kali ya makanya gue ngiri. Karna gue tipe yang nyimpen dan bukan langsung marah-marah gitu depan orang;  bukan kayak dia.

Yep, karna mereka ngga pernah tertarik untuk menggali tentang gue dari tulisan-tulisan gue makanya mereka bisa bilang gue pendiem dan kalem. Padahal mah, didunia tulis menulis gue adalah orang yang paling bawel yang pernah gue tau – yang paling ngga tau malu juga.

Yep, karna mereka ngga pernah ngeluangin waktu untuk mikirin pendekatan lain untuk “mengerti” gue. Mereka maunya gue kayak adek sepupu gue yang bisa cerita semuanya sama mereka.

Yep, karna adek sepupu gue ini ekstrovert tulen dan dia ngga punya masalah sama sekali dalam mengekspresikan perasaan dia dengan kata-kata langsung sementara gue ngga nyaman dengan itu.

Dan iya, dia emang melakukan beberapa hal lain lebih baik dari gue.

Bukan lebih baik sih sebenernya. Gue ngga tertarik sama apa yang dia kerjain aja makanya gue lebih “jelek” dari dia.

Mereka lupa kalo gue adalah first born dari adek sepupu gue – yang pertama dari enam. Mereka lupa bahwa sebenernya adek sepupu gue itu juga ngikutin beberapa values gue yang dia anggep menarik. Mereka udah males mempelajari tingkah anak muda lagi makanya mereka main ngelompokkin aja – nganggep gue sama kayak yang lain atau beda seenak jidat. Halah, jidat juga rasanya sama sama ketek: asin juga.

Walaupun gue benci harus bilang ini, tapi mereka sebenernya cuman melakukan apa yang semua orang diluar sana lakukan kepada anak-anak seumur gue dan dunia kekeluargaan lainnya: menganggap semua anak remaja itu sama dan membuat sebuah stereotipe mengenai kita. Mereka ngga tertarik untuk menggali potensi kita sebenarnya – kalo semua orang tuh beda dan unik; ada kesenengannya masing-masing dan cara menuangkannya beda.

Wah, kalo mereka boleh begitu, kalo gitu kita juga boleh dong, bikin stereotip bahwa semua orang tua sama? Entah sama bobroknya atau sama ignorant-nya, gue ngga tau yang mana yang lebih baik.

Lagian, itu juga kan yang selama ini mereka cap buat gue?

Bahwa gue ngga pernah lebih baik dari dia?

Bahwa gue selalu kurang dari dia?

Bahwa dia lebih bertalenta daripada gue?

...

Seberapapun gue ngga suka keadaan gue ini ketika gue ada ditengah-tengah mereka, gue bersyukur mereka nganggap gue aneh (atau bahkan gila, gue ngga tau) dengan doyan banget bawa buku tulis atau buku cerita kemana-mana.

Setidaknya, gue berhasil membuat mereka ngerti bahwa gue punya sebuah kelebihan yang hanya gue yang tahan kerjain berjam-jam: yaitu menulis dan membaca.

Mereka ngga ngerti karna mereka ngga pernah baca blog gue dan tau betapa passionate gue dalam “kerjaan” gue ini makanya gue begitu fokus pada dunia penulisan dan membaca dan nyaris ngga meluangkan waktu untuk mengeksplor diri gue dalam hal lainnya.

Setelah dipikir-pikir, gue malah kasian sama keluarga bokap. Gue kasian, karna mereka ngga pernah dibukakan pada pintu keajaiban seorang gue dalam dunia sastra. Mereka ngga pernah terbuka minatnya sebesar gue dalam memberi apresiasi kepada dunia yang bisu diluar apa yang bisa dibicarakan mulut.

Sementara ini, gue rasa gue harus puas dengan apa yang gue mengerti tentang keluarga bokap dan menahan judgements gue. Tapi mereka rasanya juga udah siap kalo-kalo gue meledak dalam waktu dekat ini. Udah cukup, kan, 18 tahun gue nahan dibandingin sama orang yang bahkan belum hidup se-lama gue? –red