Agustus tahun lalu, aku meninggalkan kamar tiga kali empat yang tiap paginya dihiasi sinar matahari dan aku bisa menatap matahari terbit seperti seorang yang sedang patah hidupnya. Hidupku memang patah pergi dari satu tempat yang membuatku merasa menjadi karakter baru dalam sebuah TV show yang dikontrak dua tahun oleh perusahaan. Hidup harus berlanjut sebab usia sudah mengganjal pertanyaan-pertanyaan yang sudah membosankan. Selama September hingga Desember nasib kadang tak menetapi doa-doa yang dipanjatkan tiap usah ibadah. Aku menghabiskan Oktober hingga November di pulau seberang, ternyata menyenangkan mendobrak diri dari hal-hal yang tak pernah kita harapkan.

I woke up with tears streaming down my cheeks. Now I'm baffled about my own existence. I'm scared I'll never be a good enough son for my parents (who I already knew was disappointed in me), my brothers (who I never feel are always pleased of me), my friend (who I don't sure how to identify) and myself (I am afraid I will give up on you). What truly is happiness? Is it a source of joy for us? Is it something that gives a feeling of security? I've haven't really felt that way. Everything I've given so far is, I fear, just another mask. I'm insecure about my career, studies, love life, and relationship every day. Is it a case of karma? "Why do you always listen to sad songs?" people always ask. Why do you create sad stories and poems all the time? How do you even become a more closed-off someone who simply wants to drive others away? My response is that this is a source of pain for me. I never know how to deal with it, and it hurts just as much as the question you asked. Words are lethal weapons that can kill more people than a pistol or a nuclear weapon. Consider a mass shooting and a world war. It occurred as a result of words.

At the closing of this morning's terror, I just want to express my gratitude to everyone who remains to read my misery and nonsense. Even if it's agony and yuck at times, I'll keep trying to tell my journey because that's life (You will never receive what you desire.)

Is it possible that it has something to do with mystery and y?

He begins to cry every night during his voyage through his broken heart, when some people around the world hide their tears under their blanket.

May not ever know about the bliss because the wind never addressed his wounds, and He had to put up with the dark days after noon.

May is about his unsaid wound, which he never tells the soil or the river about. He writes a poetry from his pain, word after word, and no one ever reads it. He makes the decision to burn all of his memories in one day. may be content after he has passed away and turned to dust.

What happened to the y and the mystery? They hide in people's eyes and smiles while they try to continue their story.

You make it beats faster than it should, colour it with your beautiful smiles and bring blue clouds to my grey clouds. you hide behind your silence; words are like longing that hangs because our eyes can only cry without looking

The clock still walking in middle of night, you stare at the blue walls saying it's just normal night. Another night changes with the same nights. When will the stars come. O I forget, my shooting star is not there anymore

all night in pandemic season, meeting words like wet paper that wants to be written. I am a poet who hides from poetry that will end.

I tend to wake myself up before sun, it seems sun moving faster than my disappointments. Frog sings even when the rains ain't coming, reminds me the day when you were not here. I only see myself and my shadows. We walk passing by the bridge of memories.

before you fall asleep, I always guess how old we are, and write letters, until the rest of our lives are burned to death, and every day the postman knocks on your door;you are never lonely after my death.

What kind of loneliness that i never had?

I could remember every little tastes of Them. Rub my nap to remind again the smallest pain of paintings in my room gives when I stare at them

Sebagai anak yang tumbuh di lingkungan dengan pengabaian emosi dan bullying, kesepian udah seperti kekasih yang selalu bisa dipeluk setiap saat.

Bahkan tumblr ini usianya udah hampir 11 tahun kalau lihat tulisan dan reblogan lama jaman sekolah ya isinya vibes kesepian dan kesendirian.

Bagaimana bisa kuakhiri sisa tahun, ketika waktu telah mengunci jawaban dan menghabisi sisa-sisa kehidupan

aku telah tenggelam dalam kegelapan sebelum usia baru lahir dari rahim doa-doa pendosa yang berharap bahwa nasib tidak lagi mengingkari

biarkan saja ketakutan berkecamuk di kepala kita, bukankah masa silam ialah perkabungan yang panjang sebab dunia sudah mulai menutup satu per satu jiwa

di manapun ketika Tahun menyambut hari baru, kesedihan selalu bersiasat dalam diri dan selalu menggantung pada setiap matamu dan bersemayam saban hari.