12tylon

[12tylon]

me2me

said you would do anything for you

maybe now is the right time to

don’t give in to nostalgia forget them all

warm yourself by your own fires

[12tylon]

Parents

in a world full of asks

sometimes we found each other on the strangest moments

in one those moments every once in a while i got to capture the strength to help me rebuild

nothing compares

[12tylon]

kolam

doesn’t the current drive you crazy sometimes

never seem to flow in your favour

but when it does, man, nothing compares

spent a lifetime reliving 

clarity beyond the eyesight

like a fish -- look down to the bottom when you swim

all the bits and debris

waste and remains and in this world there is never enough chlorine

to treat this swimming pool

[12tylon]

find the balance

find the balance

find your balance

[12tylon]

into the water

little girl with the kind eyes i know you’re scared too

just when you thought it was safe outside the water you heard their horses coming towards you

you liked the dry land but i promise this time down it’s going to be a different view

so dive in darling take a swim roll the dice for me and you

[12tylon]

In one year

Nothing will be the way it is now

You would probably have smaller circle of friends (adulting am i right)

Maybe have found the courage to try that hairstyle you’ve always wanted to then realize that it really doesn’t suit you but you wing it anyway

You’d probably switch jobs and still end up wishing you have the option not to work every day of the week, caught up in the love and hate loop as you always do

Still wondering whether this type of job actually suits you

And close that small business you’ve been building as you finally realize that juggling between that work and the other work is simply impossible

Maybe relationship would still seem impossible maybe you realize you’re just not built for it or maybe this time it would work for you

And this time I hope you actually believe in the saying you’ve been reciting — failure is an event not a person

Failure is an event not a person

Curly-haired girl with the kind eyes

Curious and confused

Maybe in one year you’ll figure out how to

and i would still do anything for you.

[12tylon]

An Ode to 'Everything Everywhere All at Once' by David Gate

[12tylon]

time flew in such a strange way just like time flows in strange ways on Sundays. solitude was both agonizing and liberating; everything was transient. are you actually missing the city or is it the life full of options back then that you’re longing for? regardless of whatever you end up doing just roll the dice keep the sparks running do not look back nothing in life is ever permanent. worry not i got your back i got you i got you always

[12tylon]

“it is inside myself that i must create someone who will understand”

[12tylon]

airport smoking room

too many planes have taken off you’ve lost track of yours and you know it. you lighted up another cigarette and shed another skin. it’s not good for you, yours is already too thin. but you know it too as you always do. this time you shed another layer and wrapped yourself in new ones. you are already on your way. thicker than ever. the sun is too hot too close but you know where you’re headed now. 

i would do anything for You

[12tylon]

como un sueno

it was like a dream, i was renewed every time. open for a surprise. i punched myself back to sleep every night and in the morning when i wake i asked god to slide into my mind quickly before i do

[12tylon]

Scheherazade

Tell me about the dream where we pull the bodies out of the lake

and dress them in warm clothes again.

How it was late, and no one could sleep, the horses running

until they forget they are horses.

It's not like a tree where the roots have to end somewhere,

it's more like a song on a policeman's radio,

how we rolled up the carpet so we could dance, and the days

were bright red, and every time we kissed there was another apple

to slice into pieces. Look at the light through the windowpane. That means it's noon, that means

we're inconsolable. Tell me how all this, and love too, will ruin us.

These, our bodies, possessed by light.

Tell me we'll never get used to it

[12tylon]

Jakarta Pusat

“Hey, let’s sit down for a while ”, I said, as we walked by Sari Pan Pacific. We’ve been walking for an hour now, and I think I could use a short break at the bench by the sidewalk. 

I stretched my feet out as we sat down, you pulled out a pack of Marlboro Red and sparked a light for both of us. Our breath turned slow and steady. The sidewalk was quiet and empty. There were only me and you, whom I have just known for three weeks, breathing in the midst of midnight cold air.

You know how much I love long night walks. There’s something very comforting about the city, at the same time enigmatic, when businesses close their doors and the people snuggle in their bed, smiling in their dreams. It’s strange that Jakarta, so often considered polluted and claustrophobic at daytime, can develop such soul at night.. and I can’t deny that some of the best times of my life revolve around it.

You told me about work, I told you about my co-worker, and a couple random stuff that went through my mind as we watched cars pass by the street in front of us, which runs through the central business district of Jakarta. We didn’t really do much talking, though. Most of the time we just shared the comfortable silence. 

Silence is more than the absence of words, they say.

As you lit up another cigarette, two street musicians appeared from the corner of the street. They staggered towards us and gazed in a way that made me felt kind of cautious and uneasy. Living in a city with a very high criminal rate, my subconscious tells me to be alert whenever a stranger approach, especially at night, out in the street.  

The two street musician stopped in front of us and stared at us for a moment. I felt a little uneasy, and worried if they were going to forcibly ask us for some money, or something even worse. But we stayed still in our seat, watching, anticipating.

“It’s been years since I last smoked Marlboro”, one of them said, breaking the silence, as they smiled warmly and introduced themselves. 

“I’m not going to ask for your money or anything, but is it okay for you if we sing you a song or two, then you give me a stick in exchange? I’ve been longing to smoke Marlboro for a long time now”, he continued. 

We stared at each other for a very short tense moment before we broke down and started laughing. I kind of felt bad for accusing the street musicians of bad intentions, though it was only in my head. 

“Sure you can, play anything you like”, I said to the two street musicians. All of a sudden the atmosphere turned way less tense, and more friendly. 

The two street musicians strung a chord and started singing a local song, which I did not remember, but I remember that they sounded very nice. They sang so joyfully and passionately, in such way that I felt a nice warmth rushing in. It was hard to describe, but I have not felt that kind of feeling for long. 

As the two street musicians continued playing, I was filled with an overflowing sense of joy that I could not stop smiling ear to ear. I looked at you with the corner of my eye, and you were smiling too, watching the two street musicians performed under the city lights. It was a joyful, joyful moment indeed. 

We have them a round of applause at the end of their performance, you asked where they were headed next. Turns out they usually perform not far away from the bench we were sitting in. You gave them two sticks, as promised, as we thanked them wished them a good night. 

“You too!”, they said, gleefully as they waved us goodbye and continued their walk home. 

Silence rushed back in as the two musicians walked away, but I still couldn’t stop smiling. You were still smiling, too. We looked at each other, smiling in silence for a brief moment. The air is filled with the low hum of road noise and the night cold wind.

“Why are you still smiling?”, you asked, breaking the silence at last.

“I don’t know”, I shrugged. “It’s weird. It’s been like 15 minutes and I don’t even know why I’m still smiling. I feel so..tranquil. I haven’t felt like this for a long time.”

“You know, it’s nice to be reminded that some people can attain happiness from the littlest things”, you said, still smiling, as you lit up another cigarette. 

We sat quietly for some time, lost in our own thoughts, enjoying each other’s presence. Maybe it’s been one quiet hour, maybe it’s only been 30 minutes, I lost track of time. It was as if we were waiting for the moment to pass by yet enjoying every second of it. Altogether a mixture feelings rushed in and out of me so rapidly I swear in that moment I could run and jump off a cliff. In a good way, maybe. 

“I think I like you.”

Long live the city that never sleeps and every wandering soul that lives off it.

[12tylon]

Live to the point of tears.

Albert Camus (via feellng)

[12tylon]

confidence in you is confidence in me is confidence in high speed.

[12tylon]

By the morning we’ll have to go separate ways, back to reality, but your scent will linger so persistently. You hate wearing perfumes, but still I can smell you, that lingering faint scent of Marlboro Red. We'll start the day exhausted due to the lack of sleep, but we have no regrets because our midnight conversations are always the best. "It's the price I'm willing to pay", you said, when I asked you about your parent's reaction on you coming home at 6am. Heck, I would pay a fortune and time to have another episodes of midnight laughters and conversations. By the morning we'll wake up tired and happy, with eye bags as big as the size of Russia. This is not our first time, getting this kind of feeling. We have been through a lot before, we have seen a lot of things. We've been more alive before, I am sure. There’s no telling what will become of us, all we have in front of us is the big uncertainty. But I see our encounter together as a reminder, to each lively, happy days we both have experienced in our lives. As a reminder to what it feels like to feel, to live, and to fall in love with life once again. 

[12tylon]

Bekal

“bekalmu mie goreng, kamu akan menjadi mie goreng bekalmu nasi goreng, kamu akan menjadi nasi goreng bekalmu kekuatan, kamu akan menjadi kekuatan bekalmu cahaya, kamu akan menjadi cahaya”

Potongan kata diatas adalah instalasi karya yang berjudul Bekal, salah satu bagian dari solo exhibition “Rumah” oleh Anton Ismael yang diselenggarakan dari April sampai 15 Mei 2016 di Ruci Art Space, Jakarta. Ya, di Jakarta, dan hari dimana saya menulis post ini adalah hari terakhir pameran itu digelar. Amat sangat ingin datang kesana dan melihatnya langsung, namun sayangnya saya tertahan oleh tugas dan ujian akhir semester, terima kasih banyak kampusku tercinta. Tapi! Mari berterima kasih juga kepada instagram, dan sosial media lainnya, yang membolehkan saya menyaksikan dan mengalami sesuatu tanpa saya harus berada di tempat kejadian. Setidaknya, saya bisa melihat beberapa cuplikan pameran tersebut dari layar handphone saya. 

Seperti karya diatas, contohnya. Saya bukan pengamat seni, apalagi seniman. Namun menurut pandangan awam saya, seni yang baik adalah seni yang dapat menimbulkan rasa. Seni yang dapat membuat saya melihat kembali momen momen di masa lampau, menggali kembali rasa yang terkubur, atau sekedar mengingatkan kembali untuk merasa, yang menurut saya adalah hal terpenting dalam eksistensi manusia. Sesuai judulnya, pameran ini mengingatkan saya akan hal yang sering mengisi pikiran saya akhir akhir ini, akan sesuatu yang tanpa disadari berperan besar dalam hidup setiap orang; Rumah.

Saya percaya bahwa tidak ada orang yang identik di dunia yang berisi 7 miliar manusia, setidaknya dalam hal sifat dan pemikiran. Semua orang tersusun oleh detail detail sangat kecil, yang mampu membedakan satu orang dengan miliaran manusia lain, yang bahkan tumbuh di lingkungan yang sama, bermain dalam circle yang sama, bersekolah di institusi yang sama. Perbedaan yang kemudian menuntun saya pada pertanyaan, Bagaimana setiap orang bisa begitu unik dan berbeda dengan miliaran orang lainnya?

Dua orang yang tumbuh di lingkungan yang sama persis sekalipun, pasti memiliki perbedaan dalam karakternya, sekecil apapun itu. Satu hal yang tentunya memberikan pengalaman berbeda bagi setiap orang adalah tempat pertama ia hidup. Tempat pertama merasakan cinta, tempat pertama mendapatkan teladan dan nilai nilai kehidupan, tempat pertama manusia ditunjukkan contoh tentang bagaimana manusia hidup semestinya, tempat yang mengisi ruang pertama pada memori manusia…. Rumah. 

Idealnya. 

Ya, itu adalah deskripsi ideal tentang bagaimana rumah semestinya berperan. Tempat pertama manusia berkenalan dengan rasa, hasrat, budaya, aturan, tata karma, dan cinta. Rumah, tempat pengisian “bekal” pertama bagi setiap manusia, tempat pertama seseorang mencari jati diri, dan dipersiapkan dengan matang untuk menghadapi dunia luar. 

Sekali lagi, itu idealnya. 

Pada level permukaan, rumah hanyalah tentang lokasi, bangunan, dekorasi, tempat yang terasa intim dan familiar. Namun, on a deeper level, rumah menentukan jenis hubungan yang dipunyai dan dicari setiap orang pada setiap aspek kehidupan diluarnya. Rumah menentukan bagaimana seseorang berinteraksi, menentukan kepercayaan yang dipegang, menentukan bagaimana orang ingin merasa diterima di lingkungan sosial, bahkan menentukan kriteria pasangan yang didambakan. 

Setiap orang memiliki gambaran dan menyimpan memori yang berbeda akan rumah masing masing… Yang kebanyakan, tidak sempurna. 

Berkuliah di kota yang berbeda dengan kota tempat saya lahir, saya bertemu dengan para perantau yang juga sedang berada jauh dari rumahnya, yang memperdengarkan saya pada cerita yang beragam mengenai rumah masing masing, terutama elemen paling krusial dalam sebuah rumah yang ideal : orang tua, dan terkadang, saudara. Saya menyadari bagaimana besar rumah berperan dalam pembentukan karakter setiap manusia.

Beberapa rumah yang saya dengar adalah rumah yang menjadi teladan, rumah yang dirindukan dan selalu memberikan kenyamanan. Namun tidak jarang saya mendengar rumah yang dicela, rumah yang disalahkan, yang menjadi akar kebencian seseorang. Rumah yang menjadi pilihan terakhir untuk pulang di waktu senggang. Tidak jarang saya mendengar cerita tentang rumah yang, bisa dibilang, jauh dari kondisi ideal. 

Seiring berjalannya waktu dan bertambahnya usia, setiap manusia tentunya semakin mampu menyadari kelebihan dan kekurangan masing masing. Kekurangan, terutama. 

The longer we live, the more we are aware our weaknesses and the flaws in our character. And when things go wrong, it seems perfectly reasonable to us to take it out on the closest person in our lives, putting the blame on the place on where our flawed characters were formed without our consent : our home. Saya menyadari bahwa tidak ada orang tua yang sempurna, dan tidak ada rumah yang sempurna. In the past, saya, dan beberapa orang yang saya kenal, pernah menganggap bahwa pihak yang dapat disalahkan untuk segala ketidaksempurnaan yang kami miliki adalah rumah kami sendiri, tempat karakter kami pertama kali dibangun dan dibentuk. Saya percaya bahwa rumah yang tangguh akan mencetak manusia yang tahan banting. Rumah yang boros akan mencetak manusia yang boros. Rumah yang memanjakan akan mencetak manusia yang manja. Rumah yang tidak tegas akan mencetak anak anak yang tidak tegas. 

“We are a victim of our homes…”, merupakan kalimat yang dituturkan Anton Ismael pada wawancaranya dengan Manual Jakarta, yang menurut saya ada benarnya. Selalu ada bagian dari rumah yang mengikuti setiap manusia, yang mengambil peran dalam pembentukan cara pandang dan kepribadiannya.  Tidak adil memang jika dipikir pikir, terutama jika memikirkan bahwa sifat buruk yang kita miliki tanpa sadar tertanam perlahan selama hidup di rumah, dan tentunya tanpa kita kehendaki. I mean, I’m sure that no one wanted, and chose, to be inherited with bad values and doctrines. Tidak adil memang, “dibekali” sesuatu tanpa kita minta, dan kemudian menyadari bahwa bekal itu ternyata bukan makanan yang disuka. 

Tapi! Pada akhirnya, as unfair as it may seem, I’m settling with the thoughts that it is also unfair to completely put the blame of what we have become to our home. Saya percaya bahwa kelebihan manusia yang membedakannya dari makhluk lain adalah kemampuan untuk memilih, dan secara sadar menentukan kemana akan berpijak pada setiap langkah yang diambil. Kemampuan untuk memilah yang baik dan yang buruk, dan kemampuan mencari cara untuk berusaha memperbaiki yang dianggap rusak. Pada akhirnya, saya percaya bahwa hal hal yang telah saya alami dan titik dimana saya berada sekarang, bukan hanya dipengaruhi oleh bagian rumah yang selalu berada di belakang saya, tapi juga oleh kemampuan saya memilih. Sangat sayang menurut saya, when we just sit around and complain about how we are shaped involuntarily, instead of actually working on the weaknesses that we think we may have. 

Despite all the weaknesses that it has, pada akhirnya, saya percaya bahwa rumah juga berperan dalam membentuk sifat sifat baik yang dimiliki semua manusia, no matter how small. Rumah saya dengan orang lain tentunya berbeda, tapi saya percaya bahwa semua rumah akhirnya membawa manusia ke banyak tempat. Rumah memiliki peran dalam menentukan titik kamu berada sekarang, dan walaupun kadang bukan titik yang terbaik, at least you’ve been to places. Rumah yang lain belum tentu membuat kamu lebih bahagia. Jika diibaratkan sebuah perjalanan jauh, perjalanan ini berat dan sulit dan lama dan jauh berbatu tapi setidaknya pemandangannya indah. Setidaknya perjalanan ini membawa saya ke banyak tempat. Setidaknya perjalanan ini memberikan saya tujuan. Setidaknya saya berjalan. 

Rumah saya adalah perjalanan. Rumah saya tidak sempurna tapi untuk saya rumah saya lebih dari cukup.