Thursday, February 1, 2018

Lies Covered Lives


I think there's a misconception going around.
A sort of fallacy of the human mind,
about inner peace,
about the wiring of our souls,
about what filter should be used to show happiness,
and how many likes you should earn to convince the entire population that you have found yourself.

I think there's a fog of delusion covering our truths.
A drug that's circulating freely amongst our minds.
Handed out like grace but robbing us of our existence.
Given like free meals for the poor but the more you have the less you'll see.
Thrown around every day like prayers for the lost, yet the more you take the further you are from home.

And that is where we are,
As far away as we can get from the truth of our being.
As deranged as we have been since we started wars by greed.
As distorted as we deny ourselves to be.

And that is the truth of how exposed our lies are.
Our lives are.
The lies of our lives are.
Sad isn't it?

It isn't though.
It truly isn't.

At least, with all the inner battle.
With all the drifted souls.
With all the hungry and all the forgotten.
With all the criers and all the demented.

At least, with all the secret dishonesty.
With all the tear covered smiles.
With all the anger covered laughter.
With all the lies covered lives.

At least, with all that catastrophe.
At least, we're alive.
And we have us.

By God, at least, we still have us



Jakarta, 1st February 2018
Y.A.P..

Tuesday, August 22, 2017

Nak,

Nak,

Jangan pernah lupa
Kalau Tuhan tidak pernah tidur
Hanya kita yang terlelap
Dalam janji
Dalam rasa
Dalam angan
Dalam diri,

Nak,

Jangan pernah lupa
Kalau Tuhan tidak pernah pergi
Hanya kita yang tertutup
Oleh janji
Oleh rasa
Oleh angan
Oleh diri

Nak,

Jangan pernah lupa
Kalau Tuhan tidak pernah lelah
Hanya kita yang terkapar
Karena janji
Karena rasa
Karena angan
Karena diri

Nak,

Jangan pernah lupa
Kalau Tuhan tidak pernah rela untuk tidur
Kalau Tuhan tidak pernah rela untuk pergi
Kalau Tuhan tidak pernah rela untuk lelah
Demi JanjiNya
Demi RasaNya
Demi AnganNya
Demi Dirimu,
Nak.

Thursday, January 12, 2017

Yes!


I have learned early in life the easiest thing to say is "yes".
I have heard it from you the most.
I have seen how satisfied he was when you said "yes".
"Who is this little thing, sad eyed with her little knuckles white as sheet holding her dignity?"

I know back then he was doing all he can to drown your courage to say "no".
And you couldn't bare to look at him, straight in his eyes.
While all he did was look straight past the warrior hidden inside you.
Spit on your eyebrows, he mockingly said,
"Who is this little sweet face, pretending to stand tall as the mountains?"

I know how he treated you like you're a toy.
And we were pieces of insignificant puppet in his convoluted dollhouse.
I know how you covered me, braced yourself up and stood straight, weakly shouting "no!"
He looked at you annoyed.
"Who is this little ungrateful piece of trash, her voice so vain and her cry so somber".

I know I was just a tiny human of only two.
And I watched how at that moment I found my own voice through your cries.
I realized what I was fighting for was the war you couldn't finish.
Knowing I had a part of your eyes,
I was born with my sight aimed towards the top of that mountain.
And I had a fragment of your roar paving my climb.

Cause I have lived enough through your eyes.
I have seen how echoes of his anger choked you and your very existence.
In your world, saying "yes" gets you to sleep safely at night.
But as you wake me up at the break of dawn,
You took me outside, tiptoeing quietly, scared we'll wake him with our echoes of hope.
Then you brushed my hair.
Singing faintly a song of bravery.
And you,
Yes you, 
My child,
This will never be you.

So, Mother.
Here I am.
I shouted "no".
I climbed your hills.
Our hills.
I planted a piece of us wherever I arrived.
I moved that man-made mountain he created to imprison you.
Cause you,
You my strong soul tall standing eager sighted warrior,
You were born as my Mother.
And I will be the echo of your spirit, the one he stole from your hands.
And though he'll remember you as the woman who said "yes",
The echoes of your "no" manifested through the sound of my heartbeat.

Cause you,
You my Mother,
Planted the start of my dreams.

My strength to say "no".

Tuesday, January 10, 2017

No.

You know how everybody else's first word was "yes"?
And yours was "no".
They looked at you funny.
"Who is this little thing, wide eyed with her little knuckles balled into a fist?"

You know back then everybody was trying to get you to say "yes"?
And you looked at them straight into their eyes and kept saying "no".
They looked at you laughingly.
"Who is this little cutie, eyebrows so strong  it formed a mountain?"

You know how they tried to give you dolls so you would give in and say "yes"?
And you stood up straight, feet planted like roots of a banyan tree, and you shouted "no!".
They looked at you annoyed.
"Who is this little brat, her voice so little but her roar so loud?"

You know how you were a tiny human of only two?
And I watched how at that moment you grasp the world by your hands.
Realizing what you believe is what you're fighting for.
Knowing your sights are fixed to the top of the mountains.
And your roar will pave the trails.

Cause I have lived before you in a world where everyone echoes it's surroundings.

Like jumbled words bouncing off cushioned walls in a room full of psychotics.
In a world where saying "yes" gets you to sleep at night.
Then as you wake up, the very first word that forms in your mouth will again be "yes".
And that's how everyone kept their life turning.

Kept their life sane, at least.

But you,
Not you.

That will never be you.

So, my Child.
Go on.
Shout "no!".
Climb hills.
Plant a piece of yourself wherever you stand.
Move that man made mountain they thought would've stopped you.
Cause you,
You my strong fisted tall standing eager sighted warrior,
You were born as a woman.
And you,
You my child will break the echoes.
And they'll remember you as that woman who stood up and said "no".
Cause I do.
And even if no one will march passionately and proud beside you.
I will.

Cause you,
You my child,
Had what I never dared to dream.

The strength to say "no"
.

Tuesday, January 3, 2017

The Truth of The Matter


Look,
I expect nothing much from this road that I have chosen.
I have always been one to be just okay with whatever is in front of me.
Or with whoever is beside me.
Or whatever they're doing around me.

Ok well, maybe that's a little lie.

Fine, that's a lot of lies.

I'm human.
I have expectations.
I have made peace with that.
I have made peace with how intricate my train of thoughts are.
I have navigated the little nooks and crannies of my imperfect logic.
I have grown to know and learned to love the many biases I came across.

Or so I thought.

I thought I have held my views and principles so close to my heart that it became who I am.
I thought that there is no way I would ever doubt what I feel or what I see.
Or that I would start to question if I'm being hopeful or naive.
If I'm being overly idealistic or it's the truth.

I guess, that's the core of the problem.

That I'm surrounded by too many truths.
And in the process I have started to lose sight of my own.

Of what my voice sounds like.
Of how my fears growls.
Of how my wants screams.
And of how much that all matters.

I have, in a bizarre plot twist, been drowning slowly by other's senses that it became my own.

That their truths started to become my views.
Their voice started to become my inner whispers.
Their fears materializing slowly as my own demons I face when I lay my head down to sleep.
And their wants,
Well...their wants becoming my everyday crossword puzzle.

The truth of the matter is...
And I have known this all along that one day this will become a problem.
That this burned out phase will happen and I'll be left feeling nothing.
Cause what I have been feeling are not my own.
It's theirs and I have lost mine.



I need to detach a little.


Cause I matter.
What I feel matter.

Saturday, December 31, 2016

See ya!


This is,
In no way a contemplation
Or a stage for me to share my revelation.

But 2016 has been one hell of a ride.
And if I can say one thing about it,
2016 has been liberating.
It felt like somebody, or something, twisted my insides and pulled it out.

I learned what it felt to be scared.
That I haven't calculated or observed every little thing that will and can happen.

I learned what it felt to have almost lost your mind.
That I haven't quite found the key to letting go.
Or at least,
Letting it go completely.

I learned I needed more time to process the world around me.
That I have little patience when it comes to the people closest to me.
Or at least,
The little patience I had left for them was shattered by my own expectations.

I learned how hard it was to continue to listen
When all I want to do is to scream.
To shake them awake.
And point them towards the very obvious exit.

I learned, and this is hard to admit....
I learned to completely observe.
To watch people fall.
Cause maybe they should.

That's the hardest thing 2016 has shown me.
Not everything or everyone can be steered towards the path you know is safer.
That they don't need to take the hard road.

But,
Let it be my overdue lesson.
That I can't control what people choose.
That I can't control how people live.

Most of all,

That I can't let them borrow my eyes and let them see what I see in them.
That I can't let them borrow my eyes and let them see how obvious things are from where I stand.
That I can't let them borrow my eyes and let them see the beauty just a few steps away.
That I can't let them borrow my eyes and let them just see.

Thank you, 2016.


I promise,

I see.





Tuesday, December 20, 2016

Such Beautiful Contradictions

You know,


It would make your world so much easier
If you can see what I see when I see you.

Well,
That was a lot of seeing.

Heh....
It is, isn't it?
But I have seen so much more in you than what you will ever see in yourself.

In some tragic way,
Maybe it's your cross to bear.
That you see beauty in everyone around you but yourself.
That you stood with your mouth open when you saw pieces of history in museums.
But stood blind with how your history made you into a breathing art.

How your strength is far beyond a zero to ten scale.
How it molds and shapes into a qualitative paragraph...
No...
Essay.
A qualitative essay of what it truly means to be strong.
Cause it blends,
and it changes.
Like the waves we have seen,
Your strength is an ocean.

And how when you laugh,
The walls around you for a second disappears.
And I can tell you this,
For just a second I saw what you have been hiding.
And it was okay.
It was just you.
A more vulnerable and floating you.
But it radiated a light so bright,
In just that one second,
I knew why you're scared.

So take your time,
There's nothing out there for you to prove.
Trust me,
There's nothing out there worth changing for.

Or at least,
For what I have seen in you, in just that one second.

There is nothing out there that can justify ruining what your garden has grown.

A vulnerable yet strong,
An expressive shyness,
A limitless boundary,
An ever expanding being.

Such beautiful contradictions.