Of all people in the world, he forgot her birthday.
It sucks, because she loves him so dearly.

She doesn’t care if her birthday was forgotten. What hurts her is the fact that her birthday was forgotten by him. One “happy birthday” wish from a guy you love with all your heart is a perfect gift that will keep you smiling all year long.

Sadly, it didn’t happen to her today.
I could feel that her heart was torn apart.
I told her to give him a chance.
To give love a chance.

Sometimes, ‘nothing’ means ‘everything’ for someone who loves you.
Just think about it for a while … and be kind.
Be kind.

(Happy birthday, gurl …)

hanny
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“I’m sooo fucked up!” he screamed, staring blankly at the screen of his cell phone that was blinking frantically. “God, I miss her so much!”

“Then why don’t you pick up the phone?” I muttered.

“Shit, no way! It’ll be too easy for her!” he shouted in anger as he slipped back that cell phone into the pocket of his jeans.

We looked at each other and sat in silence for a few minutes, before we realized the fact that it was 3:30 a.m. and the word “sleep” sounded tempting.

So we went to sleep.
It wasn’t a nice sleep after all.
Our so-called ‘pride’ was just too much for the pillow to bear.

hanny
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Jadi, kamu butuh penjelasan mengenai perasaan saya tentang dia?

Well, here it is:

Saya punya sepasang sandal jepit yang sudah tua. Kulitnya sudah ‘keriput’ dan solnya sudah sedemikian tipis, sehingga lumayan berbahaya jika nekat dikenakan untuk berjalan-jalan di luar rumah. Tapi saya suka mengenakan sandal jepit ini karena konturnya luar biasa ‘pas’ di kaki saya. Rasanya nyaman sekali berjalan-jalan dengan sandal jepit ini terpasang di kaki. Seperti melangkah tanpa rahasia, tanpa sisi-sisi tersembunyi.
Ini saya. Seada-adanya.

Di sisi lain, saya punya sepasang sepatu hak tinggi yang saya pakai karena sepatu itu terlihat elegan dan mampu membuat saya terlihat lebih tinggi. Tentu saja, jika dikenakan terlalu lama, kaki saya akan terasa sakit. Tapi kadang-kadang kita harus mentoleransi sedikit rasa sakit untuk merasa ‘lebih baik’.

Saat ini…
Saya masih menunggu seseorang yang dapat menggantikan sandal jepit usang itu. Seseorang yang bisa membuat saya merasa istimewa, hanya dengan menjadi diri saya sendiri, apa adanya.

Sementara dia adalah sepatu hak tinggi yang menawan sekaligus menyakitkan itu. Yang saya pakai hanya untuk membantu membuat saya merasa lebih tinggi, tapi akan cepat-cepat saya lepaskan pada akhir hari dengan perasaan lega yang tak bisa ditahan lagi.

Dan saya akan buru-buru menyelinap ke dalam sandal jepit tua saya itu; dan merasa bahagia seutuhnya, sekali lagi. Kebahagiaan yang akan saya pilih jika kita bicara tentang ‘selamanya’.

Sekarang, kamu mengerti kan, maksud saya?

IMG. http://img.timeinc.net/instyle/images/v2/weddings/091505_shoes_01.jpg

hanny
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Kamu masih ingat sofa itu?

Tempat kita biasa menghabiskan waktu berjam-jam bicara tentang hal-hal yang tidak punya makna–tapi menuai rasa.

Sejak kamu pergi, sofa itu sudah jarang disinggahi; apalagi ditiduri 🙂 Saya pun enggan duduk-duduk di situ lagi. Saya jadi sedih kalau tahu bahwa masa lalu tidak akan pernah kembali.

Tapi kemarin, saya duduk-duduk di situ dengan seseorang. Dan bicara panjang lebar sampai malam menjelang. Kemudian saya jadi senang tidur-tiduran di sofa itu lagi. Melamunkan tentang seseorang yang istimewa, dan merasa bahagia lagi. Sekarang saya jadi semangat mengetahui bahwa masa depan masih belum menjelang.

Hmm, kalau masa lalu memang tidak bisa diulangi, saya harap masa depan bisa membawa kamu kembali. Tapi, maaf kalau nanti saya tidak bisa mengajak kamu duduk-duduk di sofa itu lagi. You belong to the past.

I just want you to want me. It doesn’t mean that I want you…

*dedicated to my selfishness

IMG. http://www.handprint.com/HP/WCL/IMG/PAINTERS/couch.jpg

hanny
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Saya kesal sekali sama kamu hari ini.
Ini hari yang sibuk dan kamu membuat pikiran saya tambah semrawut.
Kamu ternyata sangat arogan.
Dan saya paling alergi dengan orang-orang arogan.

Sejak awal, saya tidak pernah suka sama kamu.
First impression saya tentang kamu sudah terlanjur minus.
Sampai akhirnya kita bertemu—
dan kamu terkejut ketika melihat saya, entah kenapa.
Tiba-tiba sikap kamu berubah 180 derajat;
dan di akhir pertemuan itu kamu menggoreskan satu pesan kecil bernada menggoda di dalam buku catatan saya.
Jika kamu pikir saya tergoda, maaf, kamu salah.
Saya hanya berusaha agar tetap terlihat ramah.

Saya lelah.
Terlebih lagi sekarang,
ketika saya semakin yakin bahwa first impression memang tidak pernah salah.

… 6 jam kemudian …

Kekesalan saya sudah mereda, tapi bukan berarti saya lupa.
Hanya saja… sekarang saya malah jadi kasihan sama kamu.

Ketika saya sudah bisa bersantai di rumah, ditemani segelas susu cokelat, beberapa butir jerawat, dan sepiring otak-otak, kamu masih harus menghadapi malam yang lumayan berat.
Hari ini juga bukan hari yang indah buat kamu.

Dan karena saya tidak mau membuat kamu tambah sengsara…
Ya sudahlah.
Nggak usah dibahas.

hanny
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E: Hey, Poet! What’s up with those postings?
H: Nothing. Probably I’m going insane… hehehe ;p
E: Probably it’s just your subconscious that has finally found its courage to speak up.
H: Wow. Look who’s talking. And you call me a poet?!!
E: You tell me :p
Hey, remember, one day, a few years ago, we promised to each other? That though we can’t resist growing up, we will never become an adult?
H: Uh-huh.
E: Well, I broke mine. I think I have become an adult. That’s why it’s getting more and more difficult for me to understand the situation you put yourself into.
H: Because it’s easier?
E: What’s easier?
H: Being an adult.
E: Hmm, yeah, I guess. You simply give up hopes and being numb. You don’t give a damn.
H: That sounds OK to me.
E: Being you is more than OK. Just take your time, gurl. I envy you.
H: Yeah, right.
E: No, seriously. It’s nice to know that you have kept your promise…
Uhm, anyway, he’s OK.
H: What?
E: That bad dream of yours? Just want to tell you that he’s OK ;p
H: Cool 🙂
E: Well, what about you? Are you OK?
H: Hmm, I’m sleepy now, that’s for sure 🙂 Hehehe.
E: Hahaha. Well, have a nice dream tonight. Sleep tight!
H: You, too. Nite nite…
E: Hey, Poet…!
H: Yeah?
E: Promise me you’ll be OK?
H: …
E: Promise me?

IMG.http://images.businessweek.com/mz/04/45/techbuy/images/razr_phone.jpg

hanny
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I had a bad dream last night.
In my dream, you’re dead.

The dream itself was a blurry mixture of sickness, (*zap!) car accident, (*zap!) overdose, (*zap!) and another eerie things. And no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t remember the cause of your death.

The next thing I knew, I was standing at the back of this dimly lit room. Your coffin was placed at the altar. There were candles everywhere. Crossed my mind then, that the room is actually my school’s chapel.

I saw your Mom and Dad, mourning, but I saw no one else. And then I found myself inside a strange bathroom with a huge bathtub. I saw myself punching the yellow walls before I ended up crying, silently.

Then I woke up. I was in my bedroom. Automatically, I slipped my hand under my pillow, looking for my cell phone. The digital clock on its screen showed 4:37. I rubbed my cheek and found out that it was actually damp with tears.
So the crying scene was real.
The tears were real.

Are-you-OK was the last thing that crossed my mind before I slipped back my cell phone under my pillow. I closed my eyes and as if I had just found a powerful charm, I kept saying “Please, stay” “Please, stay” “Please, stay” repetitively until I fell asleep.

But the feeling of losing you stays up to now.
And it scares me.

IMG. http://web.bvu.edu/students/richant/studio/portfolio/images/digital%20mourning.jpg

hanny
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“There’s nothing like the rain, falling down again… to come and wash away the pain. There’s nothing like the rain, falling down again… to clear the air so we see again.”
(Nothing Like The Rain by 2 Unlimited)

You’re back.

I am surpised to know that after all these times, you’re still strolling along with me in this journey, though you’re not walking by my side any longer.
To notice your presence is one thing.
To accept it is another thing.

It must be fun for you to put your eyes on me and take a peek on my deepest thoughts, my deepest secrets, my deepest feelings…

To you, my life is nothing but a cheesy kind of movie that, slowly but sure, have turned into your guilty pleasure. Sometimes, the scene of my rise and fall makes you feel a bit emotional inside. Nevertheless, to you, I am merely an actress, and my life is nothing but a cheap entertainment for you to enjoy over a can of beer and a bowl of popcorn.

To be honest, I don’t mind. Though my life is surreal to you, it’s such a pleasure to know that you’re still there. Probably this is the only way for you to be able to understand me better, long after all those past misunderstandings that have accumulated into such a complicated matter.

It’s good to know you’re back,
though I am no longer there.

IMG. http://www.paulscharffphotography.com/Through_The_Window_In_The_Rain.JPG

hanny
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“Don’t I know you from somewhere, or this fucking place is boiling?” (A Sense of Something Lost by Terry McDonagh)

I love Terry McDonagh, primarily, because I have no idea what he’s trying to say through his eccentric poems. Reading The World without Stone, A Song for Joanna, or No Places in The Marshes is like walking in the desert, blindfolded.

That’s why I love to read his poems everytime I feel stuck. Eerily, his poems left me with this wacky sensation that runs through me as I flip each pages: a sense of… something lost.

When your whole life is so well-organized, and you live by the rules each day, you need some chaos to maintain your sanity. That’s why I love Terry. That’s why I love you.

I love the way you make me feel lost.
Your chaotic life is like a stain over my spotless canvas.

IMG. http://irishliteraryrevival.com/writers/terrymcdonagh/aworldwithoutstone.jpg

hanny
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Hanny illustrator
Hi. I'm HANNY
I am an Indonesian writer/artist/illustrator and stationery web shop owner (Cafe Analog) based in Amsterdam, the Netherlands. I love facilitating writing/creative workshops and retreats, especially when they are tied to self-exploration and self-expression. In Indonesian, 'beradadisini' means being here. So, here I am, documenting life—one word at a time.

hanny

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