"Fuck!" Say I

... dan Tuhan, dengan bahasa apapun namaNya kau sebut, akan selalu Maha Mendengar... It is amidst a neckbreaking deadline that I'm writing this, putting the right pieces of puzzles in my mind that have your scent and your warmth, of how close your heartbeat to my pressed ears on your bare chest, of how smooth my fingers ran on your slightly damp skin, the slow breathing when we drifted to sleep, and how perfect it felt to have my arm around you in the middle of rumpled bed sheets. And somehow I remember God, the so-called omnipotent being that makes shit happened. I want to believe again, desperately trying to find the object to give my gratitude to, to have a reason to feel blessed. To have something to hold on to that makes me feel special among 7.6 billion of people in the world (as per May 2018).  But that would be lying. I want to repeatedly whisper HALLELUJAH when our eyes meet, when our mouths are searching for each other, when our skin are craving for the touch.

Sehari lagi, Pit. Tahan sehari lagi. I was in that place again, where everything was bleak and dark and the ground under my feet was shifting and all I could feel was confusion and anger and sadness and they're all squeezing me tight to the point that I threw up. No, it wasn't depression. It's just a path that leads to it. Where I am today is the place that I've chosen with my common sense, voluntarily, under no influence in whatsoever. It's a much too quiet place where at nights you could only hear crickets or the loud, bugle sound of cranes flying by. But there are things bothering me, things beyond my control, things from outside my world where I'm sitting and typing this, things that affect my brain, things that get me finished a litre of maturely fermented tuak under ten minutes, things that make me sob quietly, uncontrollably, while listening to that song on loop for hours, alone, the things that not even a "sabar ya..." could help