Love Gravity

I want to meet you in a place where we won’t feel wrapped underneath
Our skins that bleed and ached but they don’t hurt us like before
Inside our hearts there’s no empty room for sadness nor anguish
Our hands closed, admiring the delicateness of our souls, gravity of our lives
Feeling me, you, caressing the familiarity, adoring you me through all darkness
We are lost to each other now, wanting each other, saving you and me

Do I have to give any reason before kissing your soft lips?

Just come here, and let me show you my love once more.

My Lost Mobile Phone, Remembered

Kemarin malam salah satu stasiun televisi nasional kembali menayangkan-ulang House of Wax. Film horor yang meskipun kata para kritikus dan pencinta film, adalah sebuah remake yang unworthy and trashy, tapi memiliki makna khusus buatku. Benar-benar khusus, meskipun kalau orang lain tahu kenapa, kesannya akan jadi ga’ penting banget. Haha!

Ehm, memang makna khususnya masih punya kaitan dengan Paris Hilton. Bukan, ini tidak ada kena-mengenanya dengan hubungan antara ’idola’ dan ’penggemar’. Tapi lebih pada karakternya Paris, yaitu Paige Edwards.

Jadi beginilah ceritanya.

Dalam salah satu adegan yang intense, Carly Jones (diperankan Elisha Cuthbert) mencoba menghubungi Paige, yang saat itu sedang asyik-masyuk bercumbu dengan kekasihnya. Tapi namanya kalau birahi sedang memuncak ke ubun-ubun, langsung lupa sama yang lain. Termasuk, mengabaikan panggilan telepon yang masuk.



Hayo, pada ngaku, kalau sedang panas-panasnya foreplay, ga’ peduli anjing menggongong kencang, telepon ribut berdering krang-kring-krang-kring, PLTN mendadak memadamkan listrik, kayanya ’kentang’ banget kalau foreplay-nya diberhentikan. Perintah yang dikirimkan sistem syaraf ke seluruh sensor tubuh biasanya cuma satu: ”Lanjutkan!”.

Seperti itu jugalah yang dilakukan Paige. Penonton hanya diperlihatkan close-up unit telepon genggam yang dipakai Paige. Dan inilah yang membuatku kaget, excited. Jenisnya sama seperti yang kupakai saat itu!! Bedanya, Paige memakai yang warna hijau, aku memakai yang warna merah.

Dengan sedikit norak, aku sempat nyeletuk agak kencang di dalam bioskop yang gelap dan duapertiga kursinya diisi penonton: “Eh! Henponnya sama dengan punya gue!!”, yang langsung direspon oleh teman menontonku dengan gerakan refleks menepuk lengan atasku, “Hush!”.

Hampir empat tahun kemudian, ketika film horror ini kembali ditayangkan-ulang di salah satu stasiun televisi nasional, seakan menjadi pengingat bahwa pada suatu hari yang mendung dan diikuti hujan deras di bulan Ramadhan tahun 2005 Masehi, ketika aku mencoba berpetualang sendiri menuju Bogor menaiki kereta listrik kelas ekonomi yang penuh sesak dari ujung ke ujung sehingga nyaris tidak ada celah sedikitpun karena setiap tubuh sudah saling lekat erat dan rapat, seorang pencopet dengan lihainya sukses mengambil telepon gengamku tersebut yang disimpan di dalam saku ransel yang kucantolkan di depan badan. Inilah salah satu hari tersial sepanjang hidup yang rasanya tak akan mungkin bisa kulupa.

Demikianlah ceritanya, sebab-musabab kenapa setiap kali House of Wax ditayangkan-ulang di televisi, aku jadi teringat lagi satu adegan yang buatku terasa istimewa itu. Meskipun hingga kini, hanya sekali itu saja, di bioskop, aku menonton film horror remaja tersebut sampai selesai. Dan hingga kini pula, hanya sekali itu sajalah aku pernah bepergian seorang diri menaiki kereta listrik kelas ekonomi menuju Bogor, tak ingin lagi mengulanginya.

Peristiwa kehilangan telepon genggam karena kecopetan itu jugalah yang sedikit banyak mengubah cara pandangku hingga kini. Sekarang, aku tak pernah lagi merasa kasihan pada para pencopet yang tertangkap massa lantas digebuki beramai-ramai hingga babak belur. Biar tahu rasa dia, sudah merugikan orang lain!

Bagaimana, penting ga’ penting kan tulisanku kali ini? Haha!

Unlike Others

“Do you like my cock?”

David asks me for what seems like the millionth time since we slept together for the very first time. And it was only four months ago. Tonight is no difference from our previous dates.

He stands in front of the ceiling-to-floor mirror, admiring his lean-and-chiseled looks. The body of a professional surfer; which he’s everything but.
While I am lying on the bed, stripped down from my formal dinner wear to my birthday suit. Cuddling a fluffy white pillow, half-covering my lower part, looking at his arse.

“Hhmm ...,” is my only response, before trying to change the subject by asking, “Don’t you think this room is too cold?”

David took me to his penthouse in City Central after having dinner at The Bistro with the Smith-Kleins. The look of this unit really fit in with his bachelor lifestyle.
The impressionist paintings, the handwoven foreign-made rugs, the personal gym-corner, his large two one-seater couches – a couple of Lazy Boys, my guess – facing this huge plasma TV. His home theatre set.
I simply could not imagine him living in a nice house in suburb with a family of his own. He just does not fit in for such picture.

What I think does not match with this whole picture of his bachelor style apartment is, surprisingly, ... his bed. It surely feels comfortable enough to lie all day and cuddle with him on it. It’s the linens that keep bothering my mind. As if he borrowed them from any expensive hotels around town. Have you ever noticed that all hotel linens are always bleached white, no matter where you go?

“No. It’s just fine with me. You know well I can’t stand heat.”

“But it’s just last weekend we went to the beach and there you were soaking yourself under the sun.”

“Well, that’s different. What else you’re gonna do on sunny beaches?”

“Hhmm ...,” is the only voice comes out of my mouth.

“You haven’t answered my question, dear. Do you like it? Do you like my cock?”
His left hand touching his lower part.

“Oh, yes,” I whispered in such a low voice, yet adding some adjectives to please him. “It’s so straight and beautiful and pink and warm in my hand.”

“You want it, don’t you? You know it can give you pleasure, don’t you think?”
He walks closer to bed. I almost feel like he intentionally wants to shove his cock in front of my face. So I raise my head, now supporting it on my left hand. My head tilt a bit lower and I smile.

I want to shake him out of his consciousness. I want to stare him straight in the eyes and ask: Why do you always ask that question? Why do you need, constantly, of my approval? You’re a successful businessman. You have the power to move millions with a single phonecall. You are one of the most sought after bachelor in this state. Why, then, is my opinion of your penis so important that you must ask me about it twelve times in half an hour?

“Oh, yes. That’ll be fantastic.” My hands start to become busy giving him the job, something that David said I have a talent of.

What talent? Can you say jacking off someone until he comes is talent?
Ask any teenage boy. He would definitely laugh at the mere thought of it.

“You know my thick warm cock would feel so good inside you, fucking you for hours, until I cum on you,” his breath is getting harsh, which is a good sign for me. I’m hoping for speed on this one, simply so that we can be done with all the cock-talk, and I can finally rest. The dinner we had hours ago somehow drained me out of vitality. Must be because all of the political pep-talks.

He reaches and pulls me upward. He has this habit of pulling me way to close as he gets excited, so that it feels like he breathes on my face. Somehow, the way he does it, always exarcebates my irritation. “Oh you know damn well I’d fuck you for hours.”

Splendid!
I believe he surely thinks that’s the only thing I want in this world right now.

“Oh, yes. That would feel so great,” I say, starting to calculate how long will it take for me to get up, get dress, take the elevator down to the lobby, and ask the concierge to get me a cab and leave, once this is all said and done. But it’s Friday night. It should take him longer to hail a cab for me. The concierge, not David.

“Slow down, darl. I don’t wanna come yet …”

Damn!
“Oh, no. I don’t want you to come yet, either. Your cock feels so good …”

The hands of the clock on his bedside table show it’s almost midnight. How time flies!

David and I have seen each other for about four months or so now. And each time what he did overwhelmed me. We go out to dinner at least once a week at some fancy restaurants and then up to his plush penthouse. Even though I’m not into him physically, the conversations and experiences are enjoyable enough that overall I’m glad to be in his company.
It’s a pretty interesting, consistent, house-free free gig. Besides, David seems pretty serious about “taking care of my future”, whatever that means to him.
But on the contrary, I am not greedy enough to accept such a thing, even if I could. However, when he keeps looking deeply into my eyes, telling me how smart and talented I am, I realize that I’m falling into the pattern of seeing him as a walking ATM rather than a person. And how I hate that.
Deep down, I know that at least part of my irritation with him is really irritation with the person I’m becoming when I’m around him.

Almost an hour later.
I stand at the window looking down at the scenery. The city lights always impress me, who spent earlier childhood at backwater area. Noting how different the City looks from way up here, as if I’m in a different city. This place of skyscrapers, grouping into close proximities, almost like competing to dominate each other. Or like the pecking order I often saw back then in grandma’s farm.

This City of orderly lined skyscrapers of endless white linens. The one I learn to love. Which is a hard task.
It’s David’s city, and of people not unlike him, a city of the kind of money that I can’t even imagine that they throw around like that they throw around like Monopoly’s money.
Looking down at their City, and feel like a complete crap that is trying to climb the social ladder. Or mountaineering, as once I and David heard of being in use in that period movie, when an old English lady referred to Becky Sharp.

David gets a bit fussy when I gather my things and starting to leave. But I really need to get out of here.
The last time we had a quarrel about me refusing to stay over, I ended up spending the next two following nights at his place. Which turned out ugly, as I barely sleep when he’s around. And when I’m staying at his place, he simply refuses to leave the unit, choosing to work from home.
That was a mistake. For me.
It made me feel trapped in a golden cage. And now when he expects me to do it again, I back out, giving him hundreds of excuses.
Staying over is not something I plan on repeating often.

After one single moment of fussiness though, David walks me to the elevator door. He kisses my cheek, whispers, “You know I’m going to Paris this weekend. But I’m going nuts thinking that I might leave you behind.”

“Don’t worry,” I say, forcing a wide smile. “I can wait.”
The elevator entrance tinged open, I stepped in.

“See you soon, darling.”

Of Wishes and Dreams

Within those long nights when everything seems to go wrong
I had these strange dreams that keep recurring
That I hid behind this certain thicket fence
And see the world through different eyes
It rushes and left me alone silently watching

I need someone to help me figure these dreams out
What they mean when they kept rushing right through my life
And let me playing with my tears before they dried in the sun

It seems like years
I don’t think you will ever be coming back for more
At first I was afraid to set you free
Even when I know that’s the way things should be

Now let me kiss away the pain of our old memories
And stop trying to make sense of everything
Just look beyond ourselves so we can survive
Through the dreams and reminiscences

If you still have doubt, let the night decide
Because I still have this one wish,
To kiss you tenderly to sleep

And I Remember Our Last Kiss

There will be no kisses tonight because
we are no longer lovers like we used to be

You know damn too well you’ve broke my heart and
I can’t understand why it felt like the fireworks blew up above our head and
its lights shone down on us

You promised me that you would
never kiss anyone who doesn’t burn you like
rays of sun at midday

I still remember our last kiss like our very first
and I would like to keep the memory of that first kiss
as it is

From Yesterday

I see you coming from Yesterday
Still looking as graceful as I remembered you from your youth
Radiant skin gleaming smiles
And beautiful bangs of hair framed your freckled face

How could I ever forget our first kiss ?
Your lips sweet and wet
But probably it was your perfect lip gloss I tasted

How are you doing now, Darling,
The girl who just arrived from Yesterday ?

At The Section of Forgotten Toys

At the section of forgotten toys
There is a lonely plastic doll in the form of a little girl
Standing alone inside its original wrapping
Still smiling even though its box are covered with dust and its colors gradually fading

It has been abandoned for almost all of its shelf life
Nobody wants any business with it but a little crippled girl
Who once visited the big toy store along with other similar looking children
Has only one arm, or one leg, or simply can not walk and has to be pushed away in wheelchairs

The little crippled girl picked the box with the plastic little girl doll standing alone inside
Her face gleamed with happiness and smile
“Hey, little pretty doll, how are you doing today?”
“My name is Molly and from now on, I want you to be my friend.”

But a grown up woman’s hand picked the box up from Molly’s hands
And return the plastic little girl doll to the shelf along with other plastic toys,
“Not this one, Molly. Because you are allowed to have a more beautiful doll than this.”
And ushered the little crippled girl away

The lonely plastic doll can not remember how long it stays on its shelf
Until one day a big hairy hand grabbed its box and throw it into the small steely cart
Where it stuck on the top and piled up with other deformed boxes of toys
And pushed away into the little dark room where the lights are seldom switched on
And there’s no blowing breeze from the air condition
Where the lonely little plastic girl doll remains untouched
For days, months and eventually, years

At the section of forgotten toys
There is a lonely plastic doll in the form of a little girl
Standing alone and yet it keeps smiling
Because it still remembers Molly,
The little crippled girl who hand-picked and kissed her box
And told her that she wanted to be her friend
Before she was ushered away

That Infamous Publicity Stunt ...

... will now always be remembered as the kiss of Judas.
But one burning question remains : who's betraying who?

Will There Be Enough for You?

Would not there be enough for you?
Such an egoistic self-centered girl who lives in constant state of delirium.

Would not there be enough for you?
Not only have you ruined your life with your neurotic psychological condition,
you also want other people to jump off of the edge of sanity with you.

Would not there be enough for you?
Becoming a pathological liar could not satisfy your gargantuan ego;
creating extravagant stories spreading unimaginable lies has become your self-destructive habit.

Would not there be enough for you?
Saying you only need friendship from me,
but all the things you have done only reflected your needs for more and more than just that.

Would not there be enough for you?
You told me how you lose so many close friends back then;
and accusing them of intended refusal to understand you,
even abandoning you, stranded alone in the desert of loneliness and hopelessness,
but now it seem to me that you were the one who scared them away with your attitude.

Would not there be enough for you?
It scared me how you laughed off and ignored all suggestions from your close friends who are just a few left still standing beside you, trying to help you keep a firm grip on reality.

Would not there be enough for you?
When I asked you to stop doing things that only made me feel cheap and caused people gossiping I used you for my own good,
you responded in such an impolite manner accusing me of becoming a high-nosed ungrateful guy.

Would not there be enough for you?
When I told you "friends don't kiss" and “sex is the fastest way to ruin friendship” but for that single occurrence I had you forgiven.
But all you did in return was spreading stories that you had made it out with me at different times and on different places.

Would not there be enough for you?
You still have your little princess beside you, who still needs you so much;
instead you ignored her for other things you could not have and never will.

So I asked you once again,
Will there be enough for you?




{ Original version of Will There Be Enough For You? was originally posted on my now defunct Friendster’s blog on March 24th, 2006, as the fourth part of The Anti-Malicious Girl Campaign 2006 }

Reminiscing "Janji Joni"

It was when I saw cameo appearances of Tora Sudiro and Winky Wiryawan in Janji Joni back in a couple of months ago that gave me the beginning idea of this writing. To me, both of them looked pretty much convincing as ideal poster-gay-couple: fashionable gorgeous looking hunks whom seemed completely falling into each other.

The audiences laughed very hard when Laki-Laki Urinoar 2 bit his fingernails in such a cute way while asking Laki-Laki Urinoir 1 with a particular look on his face, "Did you already find the one you really love?" (or a question similar to that, I kind of forgot).

And that was when suddenly Diane, while holding my upper arms whispered, "Hey, it's just like what Freddy did to you yesterday, don't you think?", then she laughed in such a way that made me blushed.

Thank God it's dark inside the theater; otherwise she could see my reddened face.

I think it was the awkward situation inside the men’s room, or maybe Winky's facial expression when he looked at Tora that reminded Diane about that particular scene the other day.

It was Freddy's 29th birthday, he of a nice funny good-looking guy who I kind of suspected of liking me. He didn’t plan any party or celebration, but I still went to his place, accompanied by Diane, to congratulate him and wish him everything nice will happen to him. He’s the kind of guy who already has everything a man’s need (and what I mean by that is credit cards, cellular phones, a car and an establishment not necessarily have to be a house), so I didn’t bring him any present. Or in other word, my practical mind told me that all I have got to do was presenting me in front of him.
Because he kind of likes me, right?

When he showed up at the front door, Diane did just like what any other girl does to her friends while congratulating them on something: hugging and kissing them lightly on both cheeks.

After that, it was my turn.
Freddy still spreading his arms widely, just like a teddy bear waiting for a big hug.
I thought, "Oh, okay, it's not a problem, just make him feel special for today."

So I went to hug him and kissed him lightly on both cheeks, and he went on as far as squeezed me closely and lightly and said, "Thank you, dear."
If you could see Freddy's sparkling eyes that moment, I believe you will think the same way as I did that time, that he seemed to enjoy hugging me much.

As I turned around to see who stood behind him, I saw that Laetitia, Freddy's closest best-friend who happened to be there standing within arms reach from us while we were making that scene, looking at us with such a surprise look upon her face.
I remember her jaw hung open in amazement.
Maybe she couldn't (or refused to?) believe what she just saw.
And when I turned around to face Diane, she did support the same mimic on her face.

Freddy started blushing and giggling nervously, and knowing that I should *neutralized* that situation, my only response to Diane - and Laetitia - was like, "What?! Is there anything wrong? Don't tell me you girls never see two guys hugging each other before?", and then I started to walk away from the door.

Felt a bit embarrassed with my emotionally-panicked response to Diane and Laetitia, but never regretted the hug and kisses I gave him.
I know Fred likes me, based on his gestures all this time.
And somehow I do as well, though in inexact same sense.

I believe there is nothing wrong in making someone who likes you feels happy and joyful, even though what you do is only to give hugs and kisses.
Spread the love and make others happy, is there anything wrong in doing so?

No one ever mentioned Freddy’s birthday-wishing scene again until today (with the exception of me with this writing!), but every time I see Janji Joni poster and related items from the movie I’d smile to myself and thought, "Boy, what a scene you and Fred caused back then!"



< Reminiscing “Janji Joni” was originally posted online under the title of "Janji Joni" and What It Would Forever Reminds Me of ... on June 22, 2005 >