//August 07, 2010//

Seandainya kita kenal sedari dulu, mungkin saya akan menulis lirik lagu.

Dan kamu akan menyanyikannya waktu hujan.

//August 05, 2010//

Dan hari ini saya kembali berjalan kaki. Menelusuri Cisitu, Pasar Simpang, Dipati Ukur, Pusat Belanja Balubur, Nasir Photo dan kembali ke kampus.

Panas, Bandung sedang terik-teriknya. Salahnya, saya memakai kaos hitam.

Belanja dua kaos polos, spidol kaos hitam, scan roll 5 buah roll film yang segera meludeskan uang di kantong saya (cih, belum lunas lagi). It was worth every cent, then. Setelah kepala mendadak panas, membuat kurva warna-warni akhirnya bisa berpanas-panas di jalan lagi. Menandakan saya masih penikmat jalan. Mood boostersekali bisa menyapa anak kecil di jalan, memotret jalanan Dago, dan beli es krim di McD Simpang. Padahal paginya, baru saja saya membuat puisi tentang mabok TA dan sekarang tepat di jam 22.14 revisi saya sudah beres (plus saya punya kaos baru hasil stensil dan sudah baca komik keluaran Jump terbaru). Rupanya saya tidak perlu teriak tentang keluhan saya tentang beratnya TA. Toh sudah kodratnya semua Tugas Akhir susah, makanya ditaruh di akhir dan dinamakan akhir pula. Daripada membanjiri dunia dengan keluhan, ternyata lebih bahagia menarik nafas, baca bismillah dan memulai pelan-pelan. Selesai, efektif, tidak perlu esek-esek negatif.

Besok kembali berhadapan dengan dosen pembimbing. Mungkin ditambah revisi lagi, tak tahu, pasrah saja.

Tapi, mau jujur kali ini. Bahwa saya ingin sidang duluan.

//August 03, 2010//

I want to meet you on a music store.

Where the stereo is swinging the mood around and we’ll meet when your hand touching some dusty CDs, on an old record aisle. You’ll talk long about the golden era of music where rock is the only reason why mankind can survive until now. And I will listen to you, with so much admiration why people like you could exist. I’m not cool enough, like the rest of the universe. I’m just a punk geek, without too much skinny black jeans and without some cool band T-shirt. I would like jazz and some Earth, Wind, and Fire to accompany my bad mood, but I’m not cool enough to attend some concert or any live performance. I don’t go to Java Jazz, it’s too popular, and some random chicks will exchange their phone number with some random guys. And I’m not cool enough to do the same, to buy clothes reminding the events, with dates printed on the front. I didn’t celebrate ASH concert, or some of Kings of Convenience. I don’t get familiar with indie, slow music, like Kimya Dawson, The Moldy Peaches or She&Him. Though they’re catchy and have genius sweet lyrics. Yes, I do love Vampire Weekend or some bit of Owl City. But my heartthrob still flying on 70s era, with some of Beatles, Beach Boys, Rolling Stone, or AC/DC. And until now punk still becomes my obsession, with Blink 182 or some ASH. The surprise is, you still think it’s cool and you still ask me to listen to each other. Music is just any other language, and people can’t wait to find someone who speaks in the same language.

I want to meet you on a music store.

I’ll be holding tickets and you’ll be holding the map. Let’s jump to a train and we’ll be taking pictures. Searching the sun, the wind and what’s there to left. I’ll be asleep on your shoulder and you’ll still act like nothing happen. And I still know, you’ll breathing heavily with faster heart beat. I’ll act there’s nothing happen. But we both know, something is happen.

I can’t wait to meet you on a music store. Or some railway station :)

//August 01, 2010//

August is time for a change.
To be a better person with a lot of pray and no little whine.
Hello August, you’re a holy, you’re the savior.
Let’s be brave, to deliver the speech or having some confession.
I have enough talk and a full of month to revitalize my soul. Hopefully for distance future.
Come August, we’ll be friends in no time.

//July 30, 2010//

On the middle of my silent tears or remorse, I’ve been looking desperately to my calendar. Counting weeks, months, and a little bit of days. I’m lost with days, and some dates. So it’s kind of shock to know it is the end of July. My gorgeous and proud July, the mighty warrior and the lonely dawn. Where beauty is lost in the middle of dark room and we find the light when the corridor is empty. The midnight was awful, full of silent painful tears. And the morning was too bright, and full of fake giggles. So I live the days and walking past through it. Proudly, but still with fake giggles.

July was everything, it was the beginning and also (what I thought) an end. But surely, my ending was already past in June and maybe some October. August will come to pick me up, and my calendar is still empty. There’s no circle, star or some red ink scribble. Reminding the dates of some significant events, or later, moments.

Planning wasn’t my thing this time. I just want to be floated on the river, where the end doesn’t mean midnight or some painful good-bye. I want to be floated around the cloud, where the ceiling doesn’t mean atmosphere layers or some burning rays. Still, I have some fake giggles and I’m still talking with my wall, on the middle of another silent tears or remorse.