Aku ingin bercinta
dengan cahaya bulan
di bawah emosi terluapmu
supaya kamu tahu
cahaya itu lebih jernih dari api
Aku ingin mengadu peluh dengan rumput
di sarang lebah di kaki bukit
supaya kamu tahu
tanpa air tanpa candu
Inilah yang aku sebut kebahagiaan
Perih untuk mendengar
Perih untuk tertindas
I fucked myself with this getting-old jealousy
When you’re far away without tweet, when you’re far our without me.
I fucked myself with this hail-technology act
when I hope I could see you online, when I thought I can handle it all
with just hoping seeing you online.
People said, “Set your mood with song” or “Set you idea with orange-color wallpaper”
They shared bullshits.
I can never get rid of this getting-old jealousy.
we’re on the same side then why won’t you understand this incomprehensible bugging shit?
IF we’re sheltering each other from harm why could not you try to chew this enigma?
I’m here facing the riddle, solving the puzzle, alone.
I’m always here fighting the aftermath of “Silence is golden” era and irreproachable partner.
If only you’re a girl craving for light from this darken and blind jealousy,
If only you’re a girl with sensitive and careless sixth sense,
you will know how that so-called immune you from wise-and-mature thought
in your upcoming twenty-second birthday
As a person who now has many friends. I knew several of ‘em well, so many several of ‘em not, most of those several of-them I don’t care. Let’s pretend you don’t, you never care about me but I don’t care if you don’t care and neither of us care about each other, I’ll keep blabbering here.
I know two people, not too close. We are, don’t know when exactly it changed to ‘we were’ good friends. We danced hard, we never fucked the right man, we are (maybe now they were) hard-to-get-drunk babies, we bitched up about assignments, about lecture who got super-geek looks, we mocked the fashion-darling girls who stupidly put pattern LV scarf on their necks with their plain Tees on and yelled, “You bitches, put scarf on your hands like us. But keep daydreaming then, you can never be as famous as us!”
But after that day, three of us wore scarf in the neck and mocked the same triplet fashionista with fringe red pumps screamed,” Triplets wearing red pumps as if they’re fire! We are now wearing scarves on necks to show you how stupid you’re wearing this shit on your neck!”
But the day after we wore fringe chocolate leather boots and kept spreading our venomous words, “See how weird you look in these shoes? You three are really amazing slut! Keep pumping their dicks, Triple Bitches!”
Now I could see.
One of my friends, always wearing minettoka fringe boots, not pump shoes, though they’re boots, like Triplet Bitches.
Another one of my friends, always wearing scarf on her neck. As glorious as those Triple Bitches.
Now am wearing simple flat shoes and jeans. Topless. As what I know, being fashionable like Triplet Bitches don’t work with my fully-filled brain.
Being topless, naked is better, is how to be at the top of your consciousness not to be a copy cat of fashion darlings. It’s so good being one-and-only who wear this and that, showing off you got plenty of money to buy several floral leggings with different pattern and you matched it with unique glasses.
But being naked shown you how you should be proud of your shape, of your inner shape you’d likely to forget about it the most. Being topless showed you how your outer shape shaped you well with only plain jeans.
I now have myself conscious when to look stupid by crafting my outer look looks good and able-to-manipulate people’s thought toward me.
None the less, I am a compliment bitch as crazy as you.
Kalau memang mau jalan berdua mestinya searah
Pakai kompas yang sama, pakai satu payung berdua
Kalau memang jalannya mau berdua mestinya tidak susul-susulan
tapi berdampingan, samakan arah dan tujuan
Kalau memang mau tetap berdua mestinya samakan persepsi
bukan lari masing-masing, debat kusir bikin pusing
Kalau memang mau selalu berdua bagusnya memang satu rumah
saling mengerti, saling menghargai
bukan intimidasi, bukan tidak mau saling melayani
Kalau tidak punya kompas yang sama, tidak ada di bawah satu payung,
beda rumah diam mematung,
kalau tetap berdua juga…
Selamat datang di neraka
What’s so inhuman to you
If you’re NOT a human itself
That no red blood streams inside your veins
Knowing there’s no veins inside your tissue
You’re running out of your mind when you tried to fuck ‘em all
To give what-the-fuck act upon all consequences
Is that human?
Will that ever be inhuman if you fuck things up
like what you always want to?
What’s so inhuman to you,
if you were never be human
on your own?