Posted in Of Importance, Thoughts

Menerka Rasa

Karena rasa punya banyak nama

yang tak bisa dikerdilkan dalam satu kata cinta.

Ia meletup dalam bara, dan meluruh bersama lara.

Entah akan memudar seiring berjalannya masa,

atau menjadi asa yang memaksa menempuh setiap hasta.

Layak sekam yang meregang nyawa

untuk sekali lagi nyala berpesta.



Namun sungguh apalah arti sebuah nama

selain milik engkau yang kutasbih dalam doa

sembari membunuh serpihan kasih yang tersisa.

Posted in Of Importance, Thoughts

You are

The dream that eludes my memories upon waking

The split-second train of thoughts I can never come back to


Perhaps you are

That lover from a forgotten lifetime

Or the one I’d live for in my next life


And just like

The moment of truth we unknowingly let slip

You will always be

My best “I’ll never know” and favorite “what if”


Posted in Of Importance, Thoughts

You are everything I don’t like

Everything that distraught me

put in a vessel

with limbs and given lungs



your eyes

they’re everything

I’ve ever wanted


There are raging storms

behind those hooded gaze

and I am lost

in those charcoal orbs


And there I found

tenderness hidden behind steel thorns

because they are the gate to

brilliance that makes everyone

pales in comparison


And I can’t help but to yield

to let

piety take hold


They say eyes are the window

to one’s soul

and in yours

I found

my kindred one

Posted in Of Importance


I’ve been plagued with the need to be sappy and arrange strings of maudlin words, so here it is. For you. Because there’s scarcely anyone else to write to. Just kidding. You deserve this post more than any other human being on earth.

People come and go. That’s a given. And I have reached the point where I’m resigned to the fact that every human relations are temporary – they’ll leave, more often sooner than later.

Except when it comes to you, that is.


No, I’m not going to talk about how we met. It’s a common knowledge by now (or at least, it should be). And as out-of-the-world it was, it pales in comparison with the story of how we actually managed to stay friends through these past seven years. Seven damn years. Such a feat, no? And I’m not just talking about the time we spent as friends, Firenze. I’m talking about how we could still be such close friends even through everything that has happened during those seven long years.

Because a lot has happened.

And we’re no longer those two lovestruck naive teenage girls who came across each other on Twitter. Hasn’t been them for quite a long time, considering how often we laugh over how silly we were. We couldn’t be more different in a lot of things either. In paper, someone as steely as you are should’ve get tired of whiny me a long time ago. In paper, someone as determined as you are, who always ambitiously chase her dream and do her best to excel in everything, should’ve get bored of my overly laid-back and apathetic self years ago. In paper, you would’ve had no time for me and my demons because you had far more important and bigger demons to face. In paper, you and I does not match.

Yet, here we are. Against all odds, we found common grounds and stayed in each others life through thick and thin, through your bleakest days and the shittiest year of my life, through all the joyous time and pleasant moments, through all those prospective-romantic-partners who came and wreak havoc in our lives only to leave again, and through one existential crisis after another… we’re still going strong.


So know that, whenever I’m counting my blessings, you’re the first on my list. Know that there’s nothing else in the world I’m more grateful for than you (except, you know, this guy). Know that whenever I think of Jogja and coming home, I always think of you, my one constant who plays a huge part in making that city my home. Know that you will always have a friend on me, and that I’ll always do my best to be someone you can lean on. Know that I think you’re one of the brightest person I’ve ever met, and your train of thoughts never cease to amaze me. Know that I think you’re wonderful, eloquent, sharp, strong, beautiful, talented, and incredible. Know that you’ve always fascinated me with all your dreams and goals, and I wish one day you’ll be able to do it all – and then even some more. Know that your writings always enthralled me so. Know that it’s alright for you to break down when things are too much because I got your back. Know that sometimes I envy you because I know if you were in my place, you won’t make such a fucked up mess the way I did. Know that I think you deserve only the best things and nothing less. Know that I wouldn’t mind going Dalek on anyone who hurt you. Know that anyone other than Harry Styles would have a hard time getting my approval to even court you. Know that you’re one of the most important person in my life.


And know that I love you so.


Because I’ve been platonically in love with you as a friend for almost seven years now.

Nothing romantic and nothing sexual. Just one commitment to trade companionship and trust, trading ears to listen and arms to cry on and tough advices when the situations calls for it.

One commitment to be each other’s anchor and sanctuary no matter what life throws at us.

And if that’s not true love, Firenze, then I don’t know what is.


So remember, clever girl, that even when the world blows up to hell and Lucifer comes at us with his army of demons, even when human beings proved that they’re nothing more than a piece of shit, even when those October boys and December boys ruin our peace, even when Harry Styles is out with whoever his current winter girlfriend is and One Direction never release another album, even when you feel like a failure and a waste of air,

you have me.


And I won’t ever leave. Swear to God and I’m not even superstitious.

Because I do believe in Destiny and I know our friendship is written in his Book for two reasons: because it’s meant to be and it’s meant to last a lifetime.




Happy 23rd birthday, Raditha Firza



À la mort, 

Je t’adore, ma chérie.



Few more days and I’ll be home, yeah?

Posted in Of Importance, Thoughts


Hey, John.

(I know, I know that’s not your name. But it’s the only appropriate way of addressing you. Because sweet but common endearment that I throw around all the time is wasted on you, and it’s past the time when we still refer to each other with a trashy-but-cute nickname. Also calling you with your real name is out of the question because, though I may be a lot of thing, I am not tacky. Not as tacky as her, anyway.

So, John. Because you are the John Constantine to my Elsa Bloodstone, always have been and always will be. And I will never be able to read anything involving them without my thoughts running off to you, even if just for a few precious second.)


It’s been a long time, isn’t it?

(No, it’s not. I know it’s not. I just peeked at the calendar and realized it hasn’t even been three months since that night when you practically gave up on us and then disappear without a trace the day after.)

(Well, not exactly without a trace. You left quite a trail of destruction, you know. From broken heart and trust to unhealthy habits and fucked up ulcer, you left quite a dent in this little life of mine.)


Anyway, I’m writing to you again because… it’s been admittedly quiet without you around. Calm and peaceful, yes, but it’s also too quiet and lonely without you. And I’d be lying if I say I’ve ceased to think of you and missing your presence. Though maybe I miss your presence more than I miss you, the point stands that you still – for better a worse – haunts me.

Especially lately.

(It may or may not have something to do with the fact that someone made a move recently and, in a true Katy Perry fashion, “comparison is easily done when you’ve had a taste of perfection”. Suffice to say anyone – aside from senpai, probably –  pales in comparison to you. Not fair, Johnny boy, you raised the bar too high and set everyone else up to fail.

Although, to be honest, this whole debacle is quite funny and I haven’t see my friends so united in their opinion about someone since her and I think you’ll be laughing your head off if you were here with me right now.)


And today, well, today I have been listening to Coldplay’s Yellow on repeat.

And it fit us, don’t you think?

Because the stars does shine for you and everything you do, making you glow brighter than any other human being I’ve ever seen. You shine as bright as the sun and your gravity pulled me in, until my world revolved around you and it was near-impossible to live without you. Crippling, even.

So I wrote more than just songs for and about you. Because you were my muse, like the few others before you. But unlike with them, with you I fell so deep my thoughts were torrents of colloquy demanding to be let out. I probably wrote more words for you than for my final year project, and the better part of what I posted here for the last year is, well, about you.

(Some times I’m still baffled with how we managed to be friends, fell in love, broke up, and then went back to stranger in less than one year. But well, shit happens, right?)

And the things I did for you, Johnny boy. I didn’t just swam and jumped across for you. I bet my everything for a slim chance to be with you, I put all I had on the line for a glimmer of hope, and I went through sharknado for you. It is quite a wonder, the spell you put on me and how you made me fight for you to the last of my blood.

(I didn’t regret it, though. Not even the slightest. Because I choose to do so knowing full well I’m too good for you and prepared for all the pain. After all, our ephemeral reprieve does worth all those hell I went through for you. Such a shame you weren’t the glory that I eventually won at the end of the day, though.)


It is clear as day then, that I do love you so. No, scratch that. I did loved you so, Johnny boy. I no longer do at the moment, but what we had was a once in a lifetime and it left a permanent mark. Truth be told, you got an unfair edge over everyone else, for you are the standard that I’m holding everyone against.

(And, if I’m being completely honest, you will always have the ability to make me fall head over heels. Always.)


But, most importantly, I did bleed myself dry for you.

I’m not just talking about how much I sacrificed and what I went through for you. I’m talking about the broken heart and trusts and promises. About the suicidal and depression I slink into. About the unhealthy habits I picked up just to drown my sorrows and took my mind off of you. About the fucked up ulcer and ever-growing inability to be alone that I got as the aftermath of you. About everything I poured on you.

And about how at times, now, I felt like an empty shell because it’s getting harder for me to feel or sympathize with things. You stole my ability to care and be emotionally invested on people, Johnny boy. You took away all that I gave and…

You got me running on empty.





Admittedly though, it still is a better option than the unhealthy emotional roller coaster I’d be facing if you’re still mine.



You will always be my favorite “what if” and my best “I’ll never know”, though. My one and only Before Sunrise, and truth be told I might still yearn a little for our Before Sunset.





À la mort,

I hope you’re alive and well, Johnny boy.

Posted in Of Importance, Thoughts


I miss you.
In the pause between laughter when I’m out with friends but not with you;
In the silence of my room when I instinctively reach for your hand and found nothing but air;
In the dark of the night when your absence suffocates me.

I pine for you.
For the way your eyes light up in mirth when you laugh, which I found inexplicably adorable;
For the low tone and austere manner of your voice, which never fail to make my heart goes pitter patter;
And how charming you are when you’re absorbed in the screen, like nothing else matters.

I yearn for you.
Like a tear stained face yearn for rain to wash everything away;
Like buried bud in the snow yearn for spring so it could blossom;
Like a caged phoenix yearn to spread its wings and fly off to the vast sky.

I crave for you.
For the taste of your sweet lips and gentle fingers on my skin;
For the high you brought with each stolen moments and secret reprieve;
And the blissful sensation of knowing I’m safe and sound in your arms.


I found myself wishing for your presence in each of my days.

And sometimes I wonder if you long for me…


The way I long for you.




À la mort.

Posted in Of Importance, Thoughts


Your presence is the caffeine to kickstart my day.
Heightening my senses to hyper awareness,
keeping me alert and functioning to my fullest,
while grounding me and reducing my risk of parasuicide.

Your hugs and kisses are nicotine in their own right.
Seeping through my defenses undetected,
turning into a storm of endorphin and oxytocin,
becoming my source of comfort in dire times of need.

Your honesty is the only alcohol I ever needed.
Getting me intoxicated in unabashed  candor,
admitting the skeletons in my closet and trading heartfelt confessions,
with such ease I wonder how I ever felt like keeping my cards close to my chest.

Your love is worse than cocaine.
Taking me to a state of unparalleled euphoria,
inducing psychosis over our very own fabric of reality,
decreasing my appetite for outside world and anything else that is not you.

But the happiness you brought is my personal brand of heroin.
Providing a sense of contentedness despite the weight on my shoulder,
with an afterglow of warm and fuzzy feeling that makes this life worth living,
because with you I found delight in all the simplest thing.



You, my dearest perfectionist who abhors routine, are my current fixation.





À la mort,

I’m working on keeping it on moderation, but it doesn’t change the fact that I, for better or worse, am addicted to you.

Posted in Of Importance, Thoughts


You, are my personal brand of nicotine.
A pernicious substance seeping through my veins,
spreading your noxious effect with lethargic precisions.

You, are the perfect subject for a story of a lifetime.
An incarcerating chemistry formed after a casual affair,
evolving to perverse fixation and interdependency.

You, are the worst kind of paramour.
Orchestrating intricate pillars of trust through unabashed honesty,
raising up my bar of expectations and setting up everyone else to fail.

You, are a russian roulette designed for my quietus.
A penitentiary of caging embrace and possessive kisses,
imprinting your brand of Bacchanalia with each pious ecstasy.


You, are my ephemeral reprieve and Tartarus pit.




À la mort.

Posted in Of Importance, Thoughts

Borrowed Time

This is us, playing with fire knowing full well we’re going to get scorched.
This is us, setting up the stage for our timely demise.
By arranging the minutiae of our own murder and walking hand in hand to the guillotine.

But this is us, making do with every precious seconds we can spare.
This is us, stealing soft kisses and comforting embraces in the midst of war.
This is us, choosing to play our parts in a love story that was never destined for a happy ending.

Because we are the creations of forlorn vagaries and misplaced yearnings.
And we crossed one too many boundaries just to materialised for a fleeting moment.
Ignoring the brunt of consequences we’ll have to face for this hollow satisfaction.

Then again, we were never build to be hopeless romantics who wished upon a star for miracles.
We’re just two bitter realists, seeking for sanctuary when projectiles rained down on us.
Because our weary souls fathomed how this ephemeral reprieve worth all the upcoming hell.




À la mort,

It’s a fight we’re bound to lose, but that doesn’t mean we couldn’t go out with a blast.

Posted in Of Importance

A Tradition to Keep Up

You see, I’m actually bad at keeping up traditions or maintaining a long-term habit. But there seems to be one thing that never change even as years pass by:

I could never remember your birthday right.

Yes, Firenze, as per usual, I thought your birthday is next week at the 27th. Then I almost posted this yesterday. Sue me. And I couldn’t be there, again, as I wrote this in the office. Work does not sucks, but it sure does make impulsively crossing the 500++ km between us a lot harder.


But I suppose I ought to thanks Timehop because I found this Tweet from 3 years ago when I, for once, got your birthday right.



In the span of the more or less six years that we’ve been friends, though, I suspect that was the only time I got it right.

And I know it sounds like a heck lot of sucks. Why would you be friends with someone who can’t even get your birthday right? Who always forget that one important day when you came kicking and screaming into this world? Who could never be there to celebrate with you and your loved ones?


Truth be told, I don’t know the answer to that. It’s actually a wonder, that you’ve manage to bear with me up until now, despite me periodically mucking up your birthday date and the fact that somehow we never spent any of our birthdays together. Or, more importantly, despite me constantly whining about life and you giving me all the tough love I deserved because I’m such a crybaby.  You know I always thought that being my friends had more cost than benefit, and long-term friendship is not something I excel at. So it is a wonder that you somehow stick with me through all this shit.


And I think you’re under appreciated. Even I have to admit that I rarely appreciate you as you deserve.


You’re brilliant, Firenze, even if you don’t feel like it at times because you’re stuck studying and working on something you’re not actually invested at. You’re brilliant and you’re such an excellent writer, and I’m still waiting for you to pick up on that story you posted on your blog. You were there for me when I’m at the point where I don’t know who turn to, you’ve learn most of my secrets and accept-slash-tolerate-slash-maybe-cherish me for who I am even though me and my thoughts are non-conventional and non-normative. You could brush off everything I disclose to you and face them head on with your nonchalant attitude, the way you face the world and whatever shits they throw at you. Nothing faze you, nothing could stop you once you set your mind to it, and nothing could make you bend – moreover break. You just have that inherent strength in you that I often envy, you’re adept at fighting your demons and warding them off of your loved ones, and you have people who would give the world for you.

You’re one of the most important friends I have, one of the best people that I have the luck to befriend, and you are one of the few that makes Jogja my home. One of the people whose companion I constantly seek out and would always welcome.

And I’m sorry that lately I haven’t been as present as I should be, and I don’t disclose as much. Because things have been quite murky and stormy here, so I’d prefer keeping you away from the clusterfuck I’m currently facing. Because trust me, darling, it’s a bloody sharknado up here and thing will most likely only get worse from here on out. And I’m afraid they’ll come baying for my blood – or worse, dragging you down with us.

You’re far too precious to be a collateral damage in this war I didn’t even sign the fuck up for.

And you have far more important thing to take care of.


So, you know, live long and prosper. Keep the odds in your favor, and whatever card you’re dealt with, do your best to leave your mark in this world. Take risk, break hearts, and get hurt. Don’t barricade yourself, go on out and see the world alone. Explore and run off to the sky, let no one keep your feet grounded or pull you away from the freedom you’ve always aspire to have. Not even him, or me. Sharpen your knife and carve your dreams, then make them come true even if people tell you that you couldn’t or that you should have dream bigger. Screw them, tell them to go fuck themselves, and go out in a blaze of glory. You don’t need to be a superhero or Time’s Person of the Year, just do whatever the fuck you want and excel at that. Make small changes, regardless of whether or not they’d snowballed into a bigger revolution. Just be happy, keep smiling and do things that would make you laugh years later on as you retell the stories to your evergrowing audiences. Write, Firenze. Write and keep your thoughts alive, share them to us peasants and give us a little bit of that wildly imaginative world you have hidden behind those bright eyes. They’ll appreciate it, appreciate your ingenious mind and quixotic writing skills.



You, Firenze, deserves the world at your feet. But since I can’t give you that, well, at least you know you have me on your sleeve.




Happy birthday, Raditha Firza.





À la mort,

I may never be able to get your birthday right, but one thing I always got right is making you cry with my birthday wishes. So tell me, did I get it right again this year?