Entry: Perkutut Monday, March 24, 2008



Ya, ya, ya.

Lama kelamaan kok aku jadi seperti perkutut, bercelathu pada waktu-waktu yang sudah bisa ditebak. Dan yang disampaikan pun cuma sekadar sweet nothings. Atau malah bitter nothings.

Hari ini, bangun dengan mendapat wahyu. Well, pesan pendek sih sebenarnya, tapi benar-benar membawa pencerahan. Sampai rumah baru jam 7, terus tidur, tapi pasang alarm buat jam 10. Pas jam 10 terbangun dan mengingatkan, "Ayo, ayo, nyari orang di PU." Tapi terus merem lagi dengan pembenaran: "Nanti telepon aja dehhh."

Akhirnya terbangun sekitar jam 12an kurang. Eh ada sms. Isinya undangan makan siang bersama seorang menteri yang baru jadi profesor kehormatan. Entah kenapa, kok ya aku bangun dan siap-siap mandi. Baru pas mau mandi itu, logikanya jalan, "Oh iya, nanti sekalian tanya aja tentang plastik." Jadwalnya 12.30 aja lho.

Berangkat dari rumah baru 12.51-an (ini menepat-nepatkan, biar agak berbau The Strokes), naik ojek sampai lokasi. Baru beberapa puluh meter dari rumah, aku buka-buka tas dan sadar, "Lho, hape manaaa? Balik dong, bang, hapenya ketinggalan." Pas udah balik, aku ngeliat lagi ada kantung hitam berserut di bagian atasnya dan tempelan bahan lurik dari 'kantung puisi' acaranya CCF. Ah, ternyata ada hape di dalamnya. Abang ojek yang udah menuju arah rumah pun akhirnya kembali "do a 180".

Tiba di sana, lho, lho, lho, kok udah pada bubar? Eh ternyata lagi pada mojok di satu ruang khusus. Dari situ, berangkat ke kantor naik 213. Pas di macet-macetnya lepas Kampung Melayu, ada lagunya Feist dari album pertama, Lover's Spit. Nah pas itu, pikiranku tiba-tiba berjalan dalam bahasa Inggris. I can discern the faint sound of drums being beaten by those drum sticks that resembles the thing you used to whisk egg with. Drum whiskers then, it is called?

I used to listen to a lot of Feist during my brokenheart phase. Not just listen, listen, but you know, like you are able to dissect every layer of sound that she created, and enjoy every bit of it, over, and over, and over again. Having your heart broken, at that time, means that all of your five senses is being magnified hundreds of times. You suddenly can see, hear, feel, taste, smell everything. Is there some sort of chemical changes going on inside your body when you got your heartbroken and you cry your eyes out?

Why does it sound the same like when you're pregnant. But pregnancy is a biological freakshow, it's supposed to change the whole body system whatever, but getting a broken heart is only a matter of emotional change. If so, then, why does it affects our, my senses?

(tadi itu sepanjang macet Kampung Melayu, perempatan Fuji, dan perempatan toko buku Immanuel).

MP3-ku dalam mode acak, jadi ada beberapa Strokes, Kings of Leon, Ben Harper, John Mayer yang datang dan pergi setelah Feist. Tapi waktu di depan Bappenas, rumah Dubes AS dan/atau Museum Naskah Proklamasi, she was back on my two ears. Let it Die was playing, as I recall.

Oh yes, I remember so well crying over this song. I was not feeling something of the same that time, but here's what I realized. Maybe, although I am verging on being sure, that I want to lose my head for the sake of my heart just in order to get my heart broken. That I am always waiting for the heartbreak to come because that's where the enlivening energy comes, you know. The energy that forces me to read more, to listen more, to watch more, to work more, to do more.

But is it?

Because if it is, it sounds too fatalistic to be true. Twisted, even.

I don't know what I do, but I think I have succeeded. I felt the sting of a heartbreak at this time of day, but it wasn't an enlivening energy that's popping its head. Basically, it's just tiredness. But still, a heartbreak all the same. (No doubt about it, I feel my eyes goes misty over this page, although I am aware that the page is being overdone, or maybe trying too hard)

   1 comments

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February 19, 2010   01:15 AM PST
 
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