I taste your lips. It tastes different. A bit strawberry flavor. I know I shouldn’t doubt you, but your lips never tastes like strawberry. It tastes mint cigarette. And I hate myself for know that simple thing. 

“you taste like strawberry.” I said bluntly.

“what?” you asked, look so confused.

“is there a brand new cigarette flavor?” I asked.

“no.” you answered.

I shut my mouth. I knew it, you’ve kissed someone with strawberry lips. You approach me and kiss me again. I feel disgusted. I don’t want to taste strawberry, I want the mint cigarette. I pushed you over and run to the bathroom. Questioning things. You knocked, asking what the hell is wrong with me. I feel betrayed. I want to puke. I heard you get out of my bedroom, you slammed the door, angry. I should be the one who’s angry, right? I take out my pain relief in the cabinet. A shiny razor. I put it in my skin. The cold give me chill, make me relax, and suddenly, a bubble of blood pop out. I close my eyes. I hate when I’m being this insecure.

The next day, I saw you in the parking lot. With a blonde barbie girl. Is that the one who tastes like strawberry? I saw you two fooling around, then make out for a long time. I can’t move. I just keep watching you two, getting along too well. You know, even when she giggles, she sounds like a barbie. I want to puke. I close my mouth. I breath heavily. I sit back in the corner. That’s why you taste like strawberry, huh? That’s why you always have ‘band practice’ before you come to my home. I don’t know that the band practice involved with making out with the barbie. I rustle in my pocket, nothing sharp of course, but enough to bleed my insecurities out. Bleed the demon inside my head. I run to the girl bathroom. Get in the stall and close my eyes, whispering my magic words, “I am fine. I am perfectly fine.”.

(to be continued)




This is a hello, a warm welcome.

This is a hello, a brand new day.

This is a hello, an introduction.

But there’s also this hello.

A sign of politeness.

An awkward word.

A cold word.

Basically, I always use the second hello.

Rolling Stone

The first time I saw that words, Rolling Stone, I thought that it was about the band. But then, I read it over and “oh, it was really about stone which rolling.” Silly me.

If you could live a nomadic life, would you?

Of course I would. No one would ever say no to that carefree life, I think. And I don’t have to think twice.

Where would you go? How would you decide?

Where is the right question.But I’ve thought it before, I will go to Europe. Why? Easy one. So many historical building, the architecture were awesome, girls are extremely pretty that I would make out with, the boys have so many things that will charm me (I do love boys with accent), the view, ah, everything would be better than this two season country :p

What would life be like without a “home base”?

I don’t know, to be honest. But it will feel kinda lonely without someone or some place to share with. So, I’d like to take someone to be my company, if I can.

Well, that was a dream. Those thing wouldn’t happen because I still got no money (this is a problem of people like me, I guess), I’d like to travel anywhere without worrying about money and things. Just, go grab my bag and passport, and just go. That would be awesome. Maybe in the next few years. Maybe.


So long, Zaenal Fanani

At six pm, I just got a phone call from my mother and in the same time my best friend, Rhendy, message me, telling the same thing just like my mother said. Zaenal has passed away. I didn’t know how to react so I kept silent for like a minute or two. Then I hung up on my mother. I called my boyfriend, and in a first minute I don’t know how to say that our beloved best friend has passed away. I pulled myself together and then told him the news. I knew it was so hard and a lot to take, then when we done talking, I stared at my laptop for a long time. While there’s the series I was watched keep on. Then suddenly I burst into tears, sobbing non-stop. Can’t believe he has gone. Our best friend ever. Our clown school, our sweetheart guy, our cheerful guy, our funniest guy ever, the one who always make sure to keep our smile in its place.

I remembered meeting him on May. He was in the military hospital, looking not so good, with hoses all over his body. There was no abs left on his body, no pumped out bare chest anymore, no more six-pack in his stomach. No more well-built Zaenal’s body. He was so skinny, so fragile, his ribs were out, and his stomach was so large, like pregnant women. And there are so many hoses all over his body. But he managed to kept smile at me and my mother, like usual, welcoming us, warmly. When my mother asked him “does it hurt?”, he said “of course no, maam. I am though, remember?”. Then my tears run down like rain. That’s the one thing I didn’t want him to see, because I knew he’ll be so sad, too. I should be the one who cheering him up, but rather he was the one who cheers me up. He said he’ll be okay when he got back home. He said that in hospital he felt so sick and tired and bored and couldn’t eat. So he asked the doctor to let him go back to home, where he felt comfortable. After meeting him that day, I kept crying on my way home, I couldn’t stop. And now I know why. Because that was the last time I will see you. The last time you make me laugh. The last time we hold hands together. The last time, you said, “thank you for everything.” And the last time you said, “forgive my mistakes to you.”

Hey, Zae, you said you’ll be okay once you got home, right? So, are you home already? You mean home is with God, back then? You are the strongest man I’ve ever known. You know that everyone who knows you are really really really really loves you, right? Why do you leave us so fast? I hate the fact that it might be God loves you more so God didn’t want to see you suffer more, hm? We will miss you. We definitely do. Be happy up there, man. You are one finest geologist and best friend I’ve ever known. I hope you got nothing in your way to back to God. I love you. We love you. See you, next time, it might be in heaven :’) be happy, Zae. Be extremely happy, up there!