samedi 9 mars 2013

If This Was A Movie

If this was a movie, will you come back right now just because I call you so?

Will you knock out my door? And when I open it, will you hug me passionately?

People say, sometimes you miss the memories, not the person. The theory works out on me. I miss every little pieces of our memories; the way you told me why leaves turned yellow, the way your eyes spoke more honest than your mouth ever did, the way you acted insane just to make me laugh. I miss those movies we watched together secretly, too, though I always ended up laying on your shoulder, sleeping. I was glad and proud when you let me see you cried for the first time. You, and your fragile weakness behind your cold act. But after you'd gone, why those memories weren't the same anymore, even if I did them with other guys?

Hey, you know that I'm an absentminded, but why does myself never forget to remind me how much I love you? Why do I never forget those lyrical song and rhythm of your guitar? Why do I always remember that you made those songs just for me?

Until now, I still wondering, is there any other gentleman who will open up the door to let me in, saying, "You look okay, as ever." Yeah, you never called me beautiful or pretty. You always called me "okay." But those words splattered perfectly of your mouth. And I always did feel okay. You knew exactly things that increase my mood.

I still remember the dark times, too. When you were never here when I needed you so. I always reminded myself that time, that this game was just like any other hero game. You always flew away to save other people's day, and heroes always think of other people first before they could ever think about their girlfriends. In this way, you completely look like Superman. But if you could be Myman, why did you choose to be Superman?

You were the one who made me in love with Michael Bublé. You were the one who realised I love white rose more than red rose. You were the one who pressed me uncontrollably and I wrote four novels for you. You know, every single time I listen to Taylor Swift's music, your shadow are jumping out at me, teasing and reminding me that our story were flawlessly a masterpiece till I tore it all up.

I'm sorry for all those things.

I love you.

If I only could get you back.

If my memories could be solid, not fade.

But I know we are never ever getting back together, even if you and I want to.

I know we weren't meant to be.

I know it shouldn't be a painful story anymore.

And all I can do now is just playing back memories, asking the sky the same question.

Why?

vendredi 8 février 2013

Mengenangmu

Mengenangmu mungkin hanyalah syair tak berbait, atau puisi lama tanpa kata
Mungkin pula sebuah kesederhanaan dari nilai kompleks suatu cerita
Mengenangmu mungkin adalah nina bobo yang sayup-sayup disenandungkan
Mungkin pula sebuah jeritan yang terkemas dalam kebisuan

Tak peduli di halaman berapa kita berada,
namun kulihat bayangmu di balik kelopak-kelopak bunga
Kudengar pula tawamu dalam dengungan lebah-lebah,
dan kutitipkan salamku pada semilir angin yang menderu

Mengenangmu mungkin adalah kata yang tua
definisi yang tak teruraikan
atau sapuan warna pada kanvas kosong
Namun bila aku bisa mendapatkan segalanya dalam hidup,
kan kuhabiskan setiap detikku untuk mengenangmu

Originally written by Esa Khairina
7:04 pm, 8/2/13
dedicated for my friends,
thank you for everything.

samedi 2 février 2013

Kenangan Choco Glee part 1

Bahkan walaupun ada bintang besar yang menubruk bumi dan menyemburkan debu keberuntungan, Ara tetap sangsi kesialannya hari ini bakal terhapus.

Pertama, di hari pertamanya dalam semester dua ini, Ara udah kena semprot wali kelasnya. Masalahnya sih sepele, gara-gara dia make sepatu beda warna! Padahal sih, ini bukan salah Ara (walaupun dia memang salah). Memangnya keinginan Ara apa, wekernya error sampe-sampe telat bunyi? Alhasil Ara menghabiskan Senin paginya dengan blingsatan nyari peralatan sekolah.

Kedua, Ara ditempatkan di kelas yang ia bahkan nggak kenal satu pun muridnya. Bukannya Ara ansos, tapi dia memang segan menyapa orang yang udah terlalu seru haha-hihi sama orang lain. Makanya, dia jadi cuma kenal sedikit orang.

"Hepi dikit, kek, Ra, kan kelas lo isinya anak pinter semua. Buset dah, itu kacamata udah tebel-tebel kayak martabak!" demikian Giri, sohibnya, berkomentar.

"Ish, cablak banget sih lo!" gerutu Ara gusar. Diam-diam matanya menerawang melewati kaca jendela kelas Giri, dan tanpa sadar senyumnya mengembang. Ada dia di sana, sedang bermain kemoceng sambil kejar-kejaran. Ara bahkan nggak menghitung seberapa lama ia terpaku dalam keterpanaan total, sampai-sampai orang yang dipelototinya menoleh. Matanya bertemu dengan mata Ara.

"Sial, sial, orangnya ngeliat, lagi!" gumam Ara, panik. Buru-buru dibenahinya bukunya, diiringi tatapan aneh Giri, bersiap-siap balik ke kelasnya, class sweet class.....

"Heh, Pendek!"

Spontan Ara menoleh, membuat beberapa senior yang nongkrong di dekat tangga bersuit, "Pendek, gangguin kita dong!" Menghela napas panjang, Ara memberengut pada Aldri.

"Puas, lo? Gila, bisa-bisa nama angkatan gue jadi 'Pendek', nih!" Ara menyepak betis Aldri tanpa ampun.

"Anjir, pendek-pendek ternyata tenaga lo gede juga, ya. Untung lo cewek. Coba kalo bukan." Aldri memamerkan kepalan tinjunya. Dilayangkannya tinjunya ke sekeliling kepala Ara, tapi alih-alih melukai cewek itu, Aldri justru melilitkan jari-jarinya pada rambut Ara yang kayaknya belom disisir.

"Ish, lepasiiiin! Genit banget sih jadi cowok!" Ara langsung beringsut menjauh dari Aldri.

Yang digertak cuma angkat bahu dan menyenderkan diri pada tiang koridor kelas IPS.

"Kelas mana lo sekarang?" tanya Aldri sok ngebos. Ingin rasanya Ara cakar bibirnya yang sok seksi itu.

"Heh, pake manyun segala, lagi. Sok imut, lo. Ntar tuh bibir jatoh aja, baru tau rasa."

"IPA-1," sahut Ara ogah-ogahan.

"Gila lo, Ra. Bisa-bisa sebulan di situ minus mata lo nambah jadi -100!"

"Garing lo ah. Lagian, apa hubungannya mata sama IPA-1?"

"Kan isinya anak pinter semua. Pasti lo bakal banyak tugas, deh. Terus, lo makin ansos, makin jarang keluar rumah, makin jarang olahraga, terus, ujung-ujungnya jadi makin pendek, deh!"

"Bo-do-a-mat!" Kini Ara memukul setiap bagian dari tubuh Aldri dengan bukunya. Aldri, seperti biasa, cuma menjulurkan lidah dan memberi sentilan selamat tinggal di dahi Ara, kemudian ngacir entah ke mana.

*****

Ara suka sama Aldri.

Mungkin itu adalah rahasianya yang paling besar. Rahasia yang paling boom-shakalaka yang pernah Ara simpan. Pertama kali Ara melihat Aldri, adalah waktu mereka ikut lomba pembacaan puisi di kelas 8. Aldri ngakak sampai terjungkal dari kursinya waktu giliran Ara tampil, membuat konsentrasi Ara pecah ke keping rekahan. Alasannya? Mikrofon diletakkan lebih tinggi daripada Ara, sampai-sampai Ara nggak nyampe, dan gara-gara tangannya udah penuh dengan buku, dia nggak bisa memendekkan tinggi mikrofon.

Yang bikin Ara keki bukan cuma itu. Ketika ia duduk, ia melotot pada Aldri, tapi Aldri justru mengedipkan matanya, dan membuat gerombolan teman SMP cowok itu ikut ketawa juga. Parahnya lagi, Aldri yang keliatan slengean kayak gitu bisa jadi juara satu, mendepak Ara dari posisi yang membuatnya karatan selama dua tahun berturut-turut. Ara cuma dapat juara dua.

Saat Ara ikut tes masuk di SMA Airlangga, salah satu SMA internasional favorit di Jakarta, ternyata ia ketemu lagi sama si muka slengean itu. Aldri. Parahnya, Aldri malah duduk di belakangnya, menyodok bahu Ara dengan pensil tiap butuh jawaban. Kalau Ara nggak nengok, Aldri bakal menggumam, "Pendek, nengok dong!" yang sukses membuat Ara menoleh garang. Lebih parahnya, pernah, saat tes fisika, Ara sok budek, sok gagu, terhadap bisikan Aldri. Aldri pun punya solusi cerdas, yaitu dengan menendang bangku Ara. Entah badan Ara yang kelewat enteng atau emang tenaga Aldri yang lebih-lebih dari babon, bangku Ara sukses terbalik.

Ara pun jadi makin keki saat tahu Aldri peringkat tujuh, mengalahkannya yang peringkat sembilan. Dan, seolah itu belum cukup, ia dan Aldri sekelas, pula. Ketika mereka sekelas, frekuensi kejailan Aldri menurun, walau nggak musnah sepenuhnya, sih. Aldri paling cuma manggil Ara, "Pendek!" beberapa kali, kemudian berlalu.

Saat itulah Ara sadar dia kangen Aldri.

Tapi bagaimana pun, Ara sadar dia nggak akan pernah dilirik Aldri karena 1.) Aldri kelewat eksis, sampe-sampe ia pernah mendengar namanya disebut-sebut dalam gosip ibu-ibu tetangga, dan 2.) Ara duduk sama Tari yang digadang-gadang bakal jadi Miss Indonesia begitu lulus SMA nanti. Nah, mana ada cowok yang bakal naksir Upik Abu kalo ada Putri Salju?

Sejak saat itu Ara selalu mengasumsikan, setiap Aldri memperhatikannya, itu pasti Aldri sedang melamun melihat Tari yang mukanya emang 11/12 sama Miranda Kerr.

Bukannya Ara pesimis, sih. Dia orangnya cukup optimistik, kok. Tapi emang bukan Ara namanya kalo nggak tertutup. Sampai saat ini, belum ada orang yang tau kalo Ara naksir Aldri, bahkan membayangkan prospek eh-lo-tau-nggak-gue-naksir-Aldri-loh itu saja membuatnya bergidik. Di dunia ini, cuma ada satu orang yang Ara percaya: dirinya.

*****

Setidaknya, di jam-jam terakhir matematika, Ara mendapat sedikit penghiburan. SMS dari seniornya di teater, yang mangatakan kalau mereka akan mementaskan suatu kolaborasi sama "SMA sebelah". Ara sih nggak ngerti kenapa orang-orang menyebutnya demikian, tapi sepertinya sebutan itu memang sudah mendarah daging. Ara juga nggak ngerti, sih, nggak ada angin nggak ada ujan, tiba-tiba Teater Airlangga mau bikin pentas kolaborasi sama teater SMA Mandala yang notabene adalah musuh sekolah mereka.

"Lo pasti bakal excited, deh. Di sana kan, bakal ada Zakari Anggara, Ra! Itu lho, yang dapet award pemain utama pria terbaik! Anjrit, tuh cowok mirip banget sama Nicholas Saputra!" seru Ivo, rekan teaternya, berapi-api.

Mungkin Ara keracunan saat itu, karena ketika ia mendengar kata "Nicholas Saputra", yang ada di pikirannya adalah Aldri. Dan rasanya baru tempo hari ia menjerit di bioskop pas nonton film 5 cm, meneriakkan, "Mirip Aldri!" saat Fedi Nuril muncul. Untung bagi Ara, waktu itu dia cuma nonton sendirian.

Jadi Ara cuma bisa menjawab, "Hm-mm?"

Ivo menghela napas. "Ih, lo, nggak asik deh! Seneng, kek, excited, kek! Nggak usah malu-malu gitu kali, lo mah malu-maluin adanya!"

"Dih, siapa juga yang malu-malu. Adanya lo, kali. Ngitung nggak sih lo, udah setengah jam nih, lo masih megang tuh kaca sama sisir!"

Ivo cuma cekikikan dan meletakkan dua benda itu di meja kafe. Ivo lalu menggebrak meja dengan halus dan mencondongkan kepalanya ke Ara. "Pokoknya, Ra, kolab ini harus jadi ajang cari pacar dan wahana penumpas kutukan jomblo! Gue kan nggak mau jadi jones seumur hidup, cuma bisa mupeng tiap liat orang pacaran."

Mendengus meremehkan, Ara memutar mata. "Yaelah, apa sih enaknya pacaran? Tujuan utama lo mah, bukannya buat berkarya, tapi buat nyari cowok. Santai aja, lagi. Cowok tuh suka sama cewek yang fokus pada tujuan. Kalo lo bisa tampil bagus, prima, dan nampilin yang terbaik, pasti si Zakaria itu..."

"Zakari Anggara!"

"Nah, iya, itu. Dia pasti juga klepek-klepek sama lo!"

Wajah Ivo mencerah. "Wah, pinter juga lo. Nggak salah ternyata gue berguru soal cinta sama lo."

"Gue kan udah pernah pacaran, Neng, jadi bukan jones lagi...."

"Udah ah, nggak usah dibahas! Yuk, buruan ke GOR!"

*****

GOR sebenarnya bukan tempat yang tabu untuk dikunjungi Ara yang berulang kali latihan teater di sana, tapi rasanya aneh aja, duduk melingkar di aula GOR bersama anak-anak dengan seragam "SMA sebelah". Ara melirik anggota Teater Mandala. Sembilan orang cowok dari total 24 anggota, sangat sedikit untuk tiga angkatan. Dengan malu Ara mengingatkan diri bahwa, boleh saja sih, Teater Airlangga punya sekitar lima puluh personel, tapi cuma ada satu cowok di antara mereka.

Untuk ukuran pertemuan pertama setelah konflik tahunan, bisa Ara nilai 8 dari skala 1-10. Anak-anak SMA Mandala tampak tak seramai anak-anak Airlangga, tampak kikuk dan canggung. Kepala Ivo dari tadi sudah menjulur kayak jerapah, mencari-cari "mangsa".

"Wah, cowoknya nggak ada yang jelek, Ra!" bisik Ivo berisik.

"Biasa aja, ah," balas Ara simpel. Keningnya berkernyit melihat seseorang yang Ivo tunjuk. Oke, dia bukan orang munafik, jadi mau tak mau ia mengakui cowok itu memang lumayan hot.

"Jadi, itu dia si Zakari Anggara?"

"Bukan, bukan! Wah, Zakari Anggara itu seratus kali lebih kece, Ra. Lo harus liat, deh."

Ara cuma melamun, dan buru-buru mengalihkan pandangan ketika Devina, sang ketua teater, berdiri berdampingan dengan Andros, ketua Teater Mandala. Masing-masing dari mereka mengucapkan sepatah-dua patah kata (oke, ini bohong banget. Ara yakin dia bisa tertidur andai pidato Andros-Devina diperpanjang satu kalimat, saja). Setelah itu, sesi perkenalan. Ara cuma menonton dengan bosan, sementara kuping Ivo tegak, mengingat-ingat setiap nama cogan yang dilihatnya.

"Gila, abis ini gue mintain ah PIN-nya satu-satu!" Ivo bersenandung riang. Ara cuma mengerang.

"Ra, Ra, liat deh, tuh cewek cantik banget!"

Ara cuma menoleh dengan ogah-ogahan, tapi ia langsung megap-megap begitu melihat siapa yang ditunjuk Ivo. Cewek yang sedang memperkenalkan dirinya sebagai Kirana Deswanty itu membuat Tari menjadi seperti setitik debu. Kalau Tari mirip Miranda Kerr, Kana mirip Keira Knightley!

"Cantik banget," gumam Ara mengakui.

"Ih, jangan-jangan lo lesbi, ya? Dari tadi gue tunjukin cogan, lo cuma menyendiri dan mingkeeem aja kayak ayam lagi ngerem telor. Sekarang giliran ada cewek cakep, lo malah melek. Gimana sih lo."

"Lo cuma kesel soalnya envy. Secara, dia lebih cantik daripada lo," Ara menyeringai, to the point.

Ivo cuma merengut dan kembali sibuk dengan kaca.

*****

Sampai pukul lima sore, segalanya baik-baik saja, tapi menjelang pukul enam, mood Ara kembali terjun bebas. Ivo merengek terus-terusan karena Zakari Anggara tak kunjung muncul, sedangkan yang lain mulai ikut casting. Yang beda, para pelatih nggak memberi tahu seperti apa naskah yang akan mereka pentaskan. Mereka cuma memberi tes uji kelenturan dan menyuruh mereka melakukan beberapa gerakan tari.

Sejauh ini, Kana adalah yang paling bagus gerakannya. Cewek itu lentur dan menjiwai tariannya, tapi Rasti, sang pelatih, cuma tersenyum masam. Setelah itu Kana menyingkir ke pinggir bersama Ara.

"Tadi lo keren banget," puji Ara, walau setengah hati, sih.

"Thanks," cewek itu nyengir. "Nama lo Ara, kan, ya? Yang waktu pentas itu jadi musang, kan?"

Ara menyeringai. Di pentas sebelumnya, Teater Airlangga menampilkan The Lion King, dan Ara cuma dapat peran minor sebagai Nona Musang. Latihan tiga bulan membuat Ara tanpa sadar meringik layaknya hewan pengerat itu selama tiga hari berikutnya. Aldri mengejeknya habis-habisan.

"Iya, gue..."

Ara tak sempat menyelesaikan ucapannya. Aldri berdiri di pintu, melambai. Ia mengernyit. Tak biasanya Aldri melambai padanya. Kata "Pendek!" adalah satu-satunya sapaan Aldri, dan sialnya, Ara selalu menoleh.

Aldri mendekat, dan otak Ara seperti membeku. Ada gerangan apa Aldri ke sana? Apa Aldri ingin menyusulnya? Apa Aldri ingin bertemu dengannya? Apa Aldri.....

"Hai, Kan."

Bayangan itu hancur seketika. "Kan"!!! Tentu saja, Aldri menghampiri Kana, rupanya.

"Eh, elo, Ra. Saking pendeknya sampe nggak keliatan," cetus Aldri santai, kayak biasa.

Kana tersenyum pada Aldri. Senyum yang memuja. Senyum yang juga diam-diam Ara kembangkan ketika nggak ada yang melihat.

"Dri! Long time no see!" Kana langsung mendekati Aldri dan memeluknya.

Ara sesak napas. Selalu begini. Dia memang nggak pernah dan nggak pernah jadi orang yang Aldri peluk. Aldri yang kece, dan Kana yang gorgeous. Pasangan matching.

"Aradia Hau!"

Ara langsung merangkak ke hadapan pada tetinggi dan tetua teater. Ia linglung sedetik sebelum "nyontek" gerakan orang lain diam-diam. Kemudian ia berdiri, memasang tampang paling jutek dan keras yang ia tahu tak akan bisa diterima, lalu mulai menari.

Gerakannya kacau dan sama sekali tak membekaskan keindahan, karena konsentrasi Ara terpecah. Bayangan Aldri dan Kana berpelukan membuat urat-uratnya menggeliat panas. Seiring waktu, gerakan Ara semakin cepat, persis lumba-luma yang terperangkap di jaring, minta dibebaskan.

Setelah ia selesai, Ara mengedikkan kepalanya sedikit, bingung. Anehnya, semua orang bertepuk tangan untuknya, dan bahkan para senior tersenyum untuknya.


10:04 a.m., 02/02/13.
For HY,
don't say goodbye too fast, please.

mardi 22 janvier 2013

Mood Pancaroba

Andai lo tau apa yang gue lakukan saat ini, gue sedang mengedarkan pandang ke tiap sudut kamar. Kertas bertebaran. Alat tulis berserakan. Laptop nyala berderang. Dan mood gue nyaris sekerang arang.

Gue tau sih semua penulis pasti pernah merasakan ini: nggak mood nyentuh keyboard, ide kayak lagi ngantre lampu merah, dan bawaannya muak ngebuka file yang sedang on progress. Saat ini gue lagi mengalami itu. Entah ini karena gue yang moody atau apa, hal ini dipicu masalah sepele: esai SMP gue ilang.

Itu bukan sekadar esai, Bung. Itu adalah esai 4 halaman full folio yang gue tuntaskan dalam dua jam dan menjadi kendaraan gue menuju takhta juara kedua lomba esai tentang lingkungan. Padahal selama ini gue selalu bawa tuh kertas, di binder. Dan giliran sekarang gue butuh, jrenggg! It was like, halo-kakak-saya-sedang-menghilang-harap-tinggalkan-pesan-dan-ciptakan-esai-baru-Anda.

Ah, sudahlah.

Jujur aja sih, sebagian orang nganggep itu ide yang paling susah dicari. But for me, it was mood that hard to find. Ketika gue lagi mood, gue nempelin pantat ke bangku juga udah penuh tuh kertas A4. Mood gue yang paling bagus adalah ketika gue nyelesain buku Bluish seri pertama, which only took 3 days to complete. Bentar ya, gue mau mengenang masa-masa jaya dulu.

Gue akuin, lingkungan itu sangat berpengaruh dalam pencarian mood. Mungkin dulu gue selalu mood karena gue bersosialisasi dengan baik; gue main dengan teman-teman dan menciptakan petualangan kami sendiri. FYI, 24 Hours Stay at School itu diangkat dari kisah nyata, loh. Dan Ello di Fantastic Five serta Nathan di Bluish, hmm, itu adalah duplikat untuk orang yang sama. Masalahnya sih, sekarang gue sedang menulis novel yang ada Ello-nya, dan si inspirator sudah nggak ada di sini lagi.

Oke, lanjut.

Dulu waktu SMP, gue punya banyak waktu buat main-main. Seneng-seneng. Worry a little, laugh a lot. Sekarang segalanya udah beda. PR SMA gue numpuk and too many times to worry. Lingkungan pergaulan gue juga serius; gue berteman dengan mereka yang mulai memandang hidup dengan kacamata yang selama ini orang dewasa lakukan. Masa transisi ini menyita banyak waktu, dan orang-orang dalam fase ini juga bakal ketawa ketika lo cerita tentang ide lo yang brilian, seperti kisah tentang tokek piaraan Pak Mentri. Kadang, gue merasa imajinasi gue dibetot dari segala arah. Tapi gue selalu berpegang teguh pada frasa, "Good author are always difficult to understand."

Mungkin ini salah mood gue yang selalu ganti kayak musim pancaroba. Atau salah ide yang datang dan pergi kayak cowok PHP. Atau salah gue yang nggak mau melawan semua itu. Yang jelas sih, sekarang gue harap bukan cuma Jakarta yang kebanjiran air. Gue harap diri gue juga kebanjiran imajinasi.

dimanche 13 janvier 2013

Mencari Cangkang Baru

Entah dari mana gue dapet ide ini, mendadak gue nyamber laptop *ga nyamber ding, gue kebetulan baru ngelarin tugas Geografi* dan nulis kalimat ini. Mungkin karena beberapa menit yang lalu gue nonton TV. Di sana, ada artis cewek yang gue ga tau namanya. Pokoknya tiba-tiba dia nunjuk pohon pisang trus bilang, "Itu ada siput keluar dari cangkangnya!"

Temennya, cowok yang gue curigain agak lekong, pun menimpali, "APAH?! CIUS?! MIAPAH?!"

Gue secretly bersyukur adegan absurd itu ga ditambah dengan sesuatu yang lebih dramatis, seperti ada gerombolan tanjidor lewat, atau Hogwarts Express nyasar trus ngelindes si cowok. Makin abstrak bisa-bisa.

Diam-diam juga gue mikir. Apa yang akan si siput lakukan setelah ini? Apa dia bakal berkelana cukup lama? Atau dia bakal langsung nyari cangkang baru? Terus, apa yang salah dari cangkang itu? Bukannya semua cangkang, intinya sama saja? Belum lagi, adaptasi sama tempat tinggal baru itu ga semudah yang dibayangin. Belum lagi kalo ternyata si siput rada idiot. Bukannya masuk cangkang spesiesnya, dia malah ngembat cangkang kura-kura.

Setelah itu gue kaget, karena pertanyaan itu juga kerap membetot gue hari-hari belakangan ini. Si siput itu pindah. Pindah. Move on.

Pertanyaan pertama gue tadi: apakah dia akan berkelana cukup lama, atau langsung dapet cangkang baru? Ini kasusnya 11/12 sama orang yang baru putus. Apakah orang itu bakal ngejomblo bertahun-tahun, atau langsung dapet orang baru? Kalo kasusnya diaplikasikan ke gue sih, yang pasti gue jalan... jauuuuuh banget, sampe gue pegel trus nemuin tukang urut. Dalam asosiasinya, tukang urut itu ibarat orang yang menyembuhkan patah hati lo.

Permasalahan si siput belom sampe sini. Kalau pun dia berhasil mendapatkan cangkang baru, pasti segalanya berbeda. Nggak peduli seberapa nyaman cangkang baru itu buat dia, tapi pasti ada bagian-bagian kecil dari cangkang lama yang dia kangenin. I mean... sesempit-sempitnya cangkang lamanya, tapi cangkang itu pernah jadi tempatnya bernaung. Persis kayak mantan. Sebrengsek-brengseknya mereka, still, mereka orang yang pernah hadir dalam hati kita *pret* Apalagi gue tipikal orang yang berpikir kalau cinta itu unpredictable. Datang tanpa assalamu'alaikum atau ketok-ketok, tiba-tiba, BRAK! Pintu hati kita udah didobrak masuk gitu aja.

Gue kaitkan juga hal ini dengan lagunya Mas Anang, pipi dari Aurel. Separuh Jiwaku Pergi itu ga selamanya dusta, lho. Ketika kita putus sama seseorang, ada bagian dalam hati kita yang tercecar, entah dibawa orang itu, atau kandas tak berbekas, persis bentuk hubungan itu sendiri. Bentar, ya, gue nyetel lagunya Syahrini dulu.

Lanjut pada si siput. Gue juga bingung, kira-kira apa yang salah dari cangkang itu? Keliatannya sama-sama aja dengan cangkang yang lain. Kemudian gue sadar, gue baru aja memakai kacamata mereka yang selalu meremehkan. Dari luar, keliatannya memang baik-baik aja, tapi siapa yang tau di dalamnya? Sama kayak orang pacaran. Di depan sih mesra (apa lagi di depan mantan sebelumnya, hihihi), tapi siapa yang tau di belakang, mereka nyoba saling bunuh?!

Oke, itu rada lebai sih.

Mungkin, si siput meninggalkan cangkangnya karena emang udah expired. Mungkin dia nggak sanggup bayar kontrakan. Atau mungkin, ada siput lain yang lebih "berkuasa" atas cangkang itu. Ada banyak alasan.

Perbedaan si siput dengan manusia yang gagal move on, si siput selalu bisa menemukan cangkang baru karena mereka memang butuh. Mereka akan menerima cangkang baru dengan segala kekurangannya. Kita yang gagal move on (wait. KITA?!) biasanya kerjaannya cuma duduk di pojokan, ngestalk Twitter, berharap ada meteor jatuh dan pacar baru sang mantan koma. Yah, gue ga sejahat itu, sih.

Ada beberapa orang yang memilih jalan hidup si siput, tapi ada juga yang cuma berjalan. Terlalu banyak kualifikasi dan syarat untuk si calon cangkang baru, sampai-sampai mereka ga pernah nemuin cangkang. Trus akhirnya, mati sendirian.

Nggak, kok. Gue nggak nyumpahin kalian yang gagal move on buat mati. Tenang aja, nggak.

Sekian dulu deh penggalauan dari gue. Stay tune ya. Maaf kalo temanya rada dark gini. Mantan gue baru jadian soalnya.......

vendredi 4 janvier 2013

15 Most Favourite Authors in 2012

Hey fellas! Long time no see:) How's life? I was 'baking' some ideas into a pure novel (yes, I'm making it) when that sucks writer's block came all of sudden.

(Spoiler: I dunno how that comes but WB appears more often since. It kinda freaks me out).

Well....

First, I wanna congrats you a happy new year. May the Odds be ever in your Favor. And talking about 2013, I have no resolution bout it, and even if I have got it, who are you to tell?

Now sit back and relax, dude. These people would calm you down. They will hypnotize you with their enchanting idea, shut you up with their fascinating words spreading in beautiful, marvellous sentences. I think read them two days before school (HELL YEAH!) will be a great idea.

So here are my favourite authors of 2012:

1. J. K. Rowling
I know it's certainly unfair since she has become my favourite author for seven years (I read my first HP when I was 8), but she always fill my world with her books. And she's been always a great inspiration, too.

But to be honest, I'm not feeling boom-shakalaka with her new coming book, which titled The Casual Vacancy. Doesn't mean it's not fascinating, but I wasn't as satisfied as when I read HP. But every single Rowling's works are bundled flawlessly, so is TCV. Keep inspiring, Auntie! ;)

2. Roald Dahl
No one could beat him from this place. Roald Dahl such is my hero. I remember my first copy of his works was Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, and it simply became my favourite book all along.

3. Rick Riordan
Call me a liar. I used to be the one who yelled his works as 'hard to understand ones,' but it turned out... I like them. Riordan not only wrote... he poured actions and fantasy, wild movements that could make you awake to read his novel. Percy Jackson series and The Kane Chronicles series and The Heroes of Olympus series are such addictive books. Buy one of them and I guarantee you can't put it down before you read until very last page.

4. Suzanne Collins
She opened my eyes how astonishing dystopian literatures are. I got my THG from Gramedia as a present for I won a quiz (yes, call me lucky). I found myself nibbled my nails as I read Katniss' adventure in a brutal game, I clutched my blanket when she stumbled in a danger and I unleashed a satisfied breath as the trilogy was finished. But I found it kinda obnoxious that Collins didn't put Cato in Catching Fire and Mockingjay, and how Finnick gotta die. But still, it twirled fastastically, though.

5. Veronica Roth
Another author of dystopian literature! I fell in love with Divergent (which I bought in bahasa Indonesia) and she blinded me that I had to read Insurgent, the sequel, right after I finished the first book. And thank God I read Insurgent in English, which improve my English and increased my vocabulary table. The two are full of unstoppable actions; you will hold your breath often. She easily became my favourite author and I can't waittt for the final trilogy (which Roth jokingly called Detergent) that scheduled to published in fall this year.

6. Cassandra Clare
You gotta read her novels, I swear. Hers are not dystopian, but fantasy that mixed up with that-tricky-lovey-dovey-things. I don't know if The Mortal Instruments have traslated in bahasa Indonesia or not, because I bought them in Periplus. But they are not disappointing, I promise.

7. Brandon Mulls
Maybe you don't feel very familiar with his name but he is great, too. His works are kinda about fairy and other magic creatures, but they are not childish. Sadly, it's not that easy to find his novels, though in English. Now his fans in Indonesia are dangled with the final series, that hasn't realeased until now.

8. Nicholas Sparks
If you enjoy watching romantic movies, I'm sure you guys know who is he. He's the brain of the brilliant The Last Song and A Walk to Remember and Dear John and The Notebook. All he created are masterpieces, he knows how to tease his fans. I really enjoy all his works, but make it sure that you bring your tissues because his are teary, heart-pounding books. And I warned you, Sparks kindly likes tragic endings (sorry, Uncle).

9. Lauren Oliver
Aha! She writes dystopian books, too, and really get into it. When you read her books, all looked real. She brought us to a world where your hope are gone and all look worst to the fullest. I love her Delirium trilogy (which the final will come in February this year), they flow beautifully. But I'm not really keen on her triangle love idea, but yeah, it somehow doesn't disturb the lovely of these books, though.

10. John Green
Who doesn't know him, really? He blurted out and showed who is he with his lastest-yet-most-wonderstruck-book, The Fault in Our Stars. After I read that book, I noted that Green is tragic-endings-lover too, but soon after I Googled him, I found not so. I've read Looking for Alaska, Paper Towns, and An Abundance of Katherines too, and Green is really clever to cover the morals with humorous yet flowing sentences.

11. Aprilynne Pike
I love her series, Wings, and sadly it just came until the 2nd book, Spells, and it's uneasy to find her books in Periplus too (don't tell me about Kinokuniya. I was to be a snob who visited it last month and I ended up buying nothing because it's all the way more expensive than Peri+). But I enjoy reading her novels, ya know. They remind me that no matter how old you are, magic is always here, as Rowling taught me that magic never ends.

12. Paulo Coelho
I read his novel, The Alchemist lately. My first thought was that the novel is heavy to read, not that kind of book you bring to your bed before you sleep. But it turned out flowed lightly, extremely fascinating. He taught me about how wonderful this life. Maybe I'm coming off little wiser last year because of his book.

13. Sarah Dessen
We call her 'teenlit author' if she was an Indonesian. I just read her book, This Lullaby, and really loved it. She changed her characters in every novels, the main character could be a superstar, or a bookworm, or an author. But she really made her novels feel alive and I felt like parachuted to the depth of her work.

14. Ally Condie
She inspired me to make a good name for my characters HAHA. Well Ally Condie is the author of Matched trilogy (thanks to Refal who introduced me to these stunning works, though I misunderstood its title as 'Matjet'). They are dystopian books, too, and I felt awful and curious at the same time when I read them. Just imagine a world where everything is controlled by government, what will you work as and who will you marry. It's simply inconvenient, but Condie made it coming off alive.

15. Gayle Forman
She writes If I Stay and its sequel, Where She Went, which received generally good praises. I think they deserved a standing ovation. Forman is really cool, her novels are well-written, and the plot often unthinkable, hard to guess.

So, those are my favourites. Hbu?

jeudi 20 décembre 2012

8 Signs That You Were Meant To Be A Writer

Do you ever wonder if you were truly meant to be a writer?

Deep down you sense that it might just be so.

But then doubt creeps in, and you just aren’t sure.

You look at your writing. You realize that you aren’t where you want to be. Maybe you just aren’t good enough?

A great writer would be further along by now, right?

Wrong.

If you’re reading this, chances are you were meant to be a writer. You were meant to help change the world and impact people’s lives through your words.

Here are 8 signs that you were meant to be a word
wizard.

1. Secret Dreams
You secretly dream about writing. And if you already write, you dream about doing something bigger, like writing a novel, or scoring that big
freelancing client. You dream about more, bigger, better. Deep inside you know you can do it, but that pesky little voice stops you.

2. Doubt
Yes, doubt is a sign that you were meant to be a writer. If you didn’t have anything to say, you wouldn’t even think about writing, but you do have something to say, and you know it.

But doubt stops you.

However, doubt is just a thought popping up. It doesn’t feel great, but you can say hi, and keep taking tiny steps forward.

Why keep moving forward?

Because you were meant to be a writer.

3. Excuses
Your excuse for not hanging out with your friends is, “I have to write”. You aren’t interested in what non-writers are interested in. They live a different life. They sometimes seem like a different species.

Embrace this.

Don’t give into peer pressure.

If you’re a new writer, you won’t be sure what to do with yourself, but trust your inner calling. Trust your heart.

It knows what you need.

If you have to write, you have to write .

4. Inspiration
Inspiration only comes to those who can use it. If you’re a writer, you get inspired, but you also have to take advantage of that inspiration.
If you are inspired to write a novel, then start today.

Don’t wait for perfection.

Let it be messy.

Let it be chaotic.

Let your thoughts go crazy and your body shiver with fear.

But start. Right now.

5. Perfection.
When you truly care about something, you want it to be perfect.

I care about my writing. I want to help people. I want to help you when you read these very words.

And for that reason, I want it to be perfect, because in my head, I believe perfection equals value to you, but that isn’t always true.

Good enough can have a huge impact on someone’s life.

Perfection is just an idea in my head. It has nothing to do with reality.

Wanting your writing to be perfect is a sign that you care, and that’s good, because it means you will put out exceptional work, even when you feel like it’s crap.

But you have to get your writing out there.

6. Admiration
You secretly admire great writers. You want to talk about the elegant ways they craft their prose, but you often don’t have anyone to talk to,
because your friends or family may not care about writing as much as you do. This alone shows you how much attention you pay to
words.

It shows you that you were meant to be a writer.

All you have to do is muster the courage to write and step up your game.

You are ready, even if you don’t feel it.

Step up to it and enjoy.

7. Lacking
When you don’t write, you feel like something is missing. You need to write. You need to express yourself through prose.

You know you can make a difference, but you’re not sure. We all have doubts. They’re normal, but they don’t have to stop you.

Just keep moving forward. Keep putting words out there and let the universe take care of the rest. The fruits of your labor are none of your business. All you can do is your best, so start putting your stuff out
there, even if it freaks you out.

8. Yearning
Deep down, you feel this yearning to write. It’s like someone is pulling a string that’s attached to your heart. The string is pulling you toward greatness, but you are resisting. You’re afraid. You’re worried. You’re not sure what people will think.

Let that yearning take you to where you need to go.

Forget about what everyone else is doing and follow your calling. Embrace your uniqueness, your quirkiness and your style.

Results may not come instantly, but all is well when you follow your heart.

Listen to that yearning.

Let the string take you on the adventure of your life.

If You’ve Read This Far …
You were meant to be a writer.

I’ve been writing ever since I can remember.

I’ve scribbled down crazy stories about animals when I was 6. But lately, I’ve found myself writing articles like these.

Somehow this is what comes out of me. I just keep following my excitement. I write about what makes my heart sing.

And you should do the same, because what excites you is your internal GPS telling you that you need to pay attention to that.

I have doubts, fears and worries, like everyone else. But I know I was meant to do this, because doing anything else is torture.

So if you’ve read this far, you were meant to be a writer.

All you have to do is embrace it, because deep down you know you want to.

By Henri Junttila.