Away From Home

Mon dieu, je vous manque.
In a mood flux, lately. Bad one.
It started out of the blue, with no early warning.
Yesterday is something i forgot.
Today, is me realizing that home is not here, now; that i was still alone; and ego is the best companion i’ve been having, also sweetest enemy.
Being delusional is sometimes useless, as much as comical. I felt like a clown in a show where i don’t belong: inexist. Unreal. Invisible. Broken. Useless.
I talk. I think. But, i can’t do. I am useless.
I thought i had a friend. I was wrong. Friend is not something i can posess. They live. They’re free man on their own. Not opressed people. Not purchasable good i could play with. Okay, some is (purchasable and playable). But, actually, you don’t own them whole. You can’t. People got mind that walks. And soul that wanders. Free man fight for freedom. Free man hates the idea of being a private property, though they love having privacy.

Mankind are one mystery. While the Earth is another. Universe brings you surprise-in-a-box ocassionally, though sudden. Secretly, though visible. Virtuos, though cracked.
There’s always some things behind things. There’s more than meets the eye. There’s more below the tip of an iceberg. You don’t predict all by the first blink. You should stop and see. Rest and glare. Pause and observe. The mystery is really, truly enjoyable.

I’m not home, now. Not the one comfortable. Not the one giving me calm; serenity. I missed my home up there. My somebody up there. It’s hard to went through this phase of being human. Of being a being who got a broken trouble dispenser surrounding. The being appreciate the joy; the lesson. But, can’t he confess it when he’s really tired? He’s just telling the genesis that he missed him (or her).

It’s now not a crossroad that lies beyond him. It’s before that: a foggy forest. His eyes staring at the sky, while legs rooted on the ground. He put his mind on something. Not a very big thing. Only real. He’s been too much tired thinking about dream. Dream is not a thing he should be thinking, i think. He should enjoy it while it last. Every inch. Every bit. Every pixel.

I’ve been blabbering too much, it’s not specific anymore. It’s personal writing, anyw. It heals, it helps, it relieves. So, why not?
The desperate whoreboy doesn’t end his blasphemy here.

Mood Flux: The Down Side.

Saya pikir, dengan menyimpan segalanya pada catatan yang tidak dalam jaringan, ia akan berempati atas telur ayam: yang menetas setelah dieram. Ternyata, telurnya busuk.
Sebelum sempat menuliskan gagasan-gagasan menarik, saya keburu depresi.
Sekarang saja saya menertawakan pelatjur.

Lonesome+Despair+Naught= Long Desperate Neglectance.

Saya merindukan orang yang salah.
*coret
Saya pikir saya merindukan orang yang salah.
*coret
Saya bingung, apakah saya merindukan orang yang salah (atau tidak).
*coret
Saya bingung, apakah saya salah memikirkan objek rindu ini.
*coret, remas, garuk kepala

Saya lebih baik memikirkan abstrak yang bisa saya peluk dalam mimpi (atau layar putih)! Selama sasaran kangen ini seliweran dalam kepala, saya makin merasa seperti kutjing: Gatal, Centil, (Egoistis), (Malu-slash-mau), dan (meminjam istilah sang fuego nymphae,) murah!
Mungkin akan memalukan. Tapi, inilah saya jika kamu bisa "meneropong" tingkah saya di rumah: Sesekali gelisah, sesekali ingin sms (tapi bingung mau sms siapa), sesekali pingin nge-daring-in hape tapi pulsa udah dikasih judul boros.

Saya kangen dia. Dia. Dan dia. (Bagi yang kenal saya, tahu kalo "Dia" ini jamak :D)
Err.. ya, the worse object to be missed:
-(bulky)Boy who love girls.
-(hunky)Boy who got girl.
-(twink)Boy who (is warm and flirty -though arrogant and narcisstic- and) got girl.
-(cute)(Hindi)(and Nihon-jin) Boy who i never talked to.
-(cute*)(Dum-dum) Boy who had talk and flirt but is famous of his (overflowing) horn (from horny) for girls.
-(hunky) Male who is already with someone

PLUS "I don't have the guts to text them a flirty message!"

Oh, yeah, i Am Desperate!
*= at certain distance

[Tambahan] Parahnya, hari ini saya dipegang-pegang, dan saya suka. Ini tanda kesepian parah, kan? - -" [/Tambahan]

Kamu.

Rindu mengelitik saya untuk memikirkanmu, nomina abstrak yg lama tidak muncul dengan wujud utuh.
Gelisah membuat saya rabun: membuat saya kesulitan menggenggam persona tunggal yang seharusnya dapat membuat saya muncul tanpa terpecah.
Saya menjadi sekomposit dengan porselen, kamu tahu? Saya mewujud retak yg kekal (ia-yg-ingin-menjadi-fuego nymphae menyarankan saya untuk menyerah saja. Sebab, ia pun sedang sibuk memikirkan kematian.
Segala teorema tentang siklus solar plexus (,yang sering saya ruapkan tiap-tiap kali seorang teman mengeluhkan hidupnya yg terlalu berpeluh keruh,) lolos; tidak tertangkap. Padahal, sekarang saya yang menjadi subjek dengan verba "mengeluh". Haruskah saya menggandakan diri agar ada satu lagi ia-yang-berbuat-baik-dan-seringkali-ada-walaupun-sesungguhnya-ia-durhaka,-makhluk dukkha yang bertaring di tengkuk dan di muka? Haruskah saya memberi wujud pada bayangan agar saya ganda?
Kamu selalu bersembunyi tiap-tiap mulut saya berhawa tanda tanya! Kesal, nih!