It was something I carried everywhere It is something I carry everywhere A kind of displacement from the world A manufactured loneliness despite of you A flick of anger would precipitate it A manicured sense of injustice Like a golf course blown by a storm I don’t know what to do with it Or what good can come out of it If any I can’t deal with people blaming me For something I did do I want to go to her house And drink her cunt dry
aku merasa terbebani dengan tempat tinggalku. temanku di tempat kerja pernah tinggal di delhi. ia membawa-bawa kenangan tentang masa itu seperti malas mencari simile. aku pernah tinggal di boyce st. di sebuah basement rumah sandstone yang menempel di dinding tebing di atas sebuah pacuan kereta kuda. setiap pagi aku dibangunkan oleh taktiktuktiktaktiktuk swara sepatu kuda dan pekikan joki. suara cambuk ctarrr ctarrr. sarapanku biasanya two slices of toasted latvian black bread dilapisi alpukat dan ditaburi garam flakes dan merica yang digerus sendiri. kenangan borjuis ini tidak ada artinya bagiku maupun bagi orang-orang di sekitarku. aku pernah tinggal di bondi. setiap pagi aku bangun terus jalan ke pantai, cuma seratus meter dari flatku. renang sebentar, berjemur, pulang sarapan. what a life. kenangan borjuis ini tidak ada artinya bagiku apalagi bagi orang-orang di sekitarku. aku pernah tinggal di jogobayan, desa kecil di pinggiran madiun. bapakku tinggal di jakarta. suatu siang, aku dan adilkku melihat pak penjual es dong-dong di ujung jalan menuju ke rumahku, kami berteriak-teriak gembira: “pak’e teko! pak’e teko!” eyangku lari-lari keluar rumah, hampir kesrimpet jariknya. ia kira bapakku yang datang. kenangan ini tidak borjuis. tapi aku juga tidak tahu apakah masih ada artinya. mungkin seharusnya aku tanya adikku. tapi aku lagi berantem sama istrinya. stupid OKBitch.
aku ingin membuat sebuah stensil bergambar kenangan.
i was going to search for more street art oeuvre but i realize i dont have to coz ive got danarpramesti on my dashboard. i used to want to take up more creative things like stencilling or rollerblading but then i realized danarpramesti already did all those things and more. i dont envy her, i wish her all the best ;p. its just that sometimes i used to wish that i was a more creative person. ok i lied. i probably had delusion that i was a great artist. i just need to find the right kind of art for me. then im all set. as i get older though, i realized that i am, well, kinda mediocre. not even in art. just in life in general. i write poetry. poems. but i dont do it full time. unlike danarpramesti with his beautiful, soulful singing and souljahmusik. so i write marginal poetry, about things on the margin, marginally. the best i could do is probably just marginally good. i have stopped regretting this. i think there is a space in the beautiful for marginal things. footnotes, endnotes, underlines in cheap ink. thats why i dont worry about banksy. hes a great artist. nuttin marginal about the dude. hes like an old master in sneakers. i guess people worry theyre beeing fooled by all these kids with silly-clever identikits. borf? thats genius. the question: how to stop worrying about meta-ness and love being dumb? probable answer: probably things are not that simple. im nobody’s fool, but im pretty stupid.
Im just remembering all those years of sticking with you Even when you were totally crap And the atmosphere is littered with cigarette smoke And the sweat from your forehead And now youre apparently dancing with the stars A non-dancing golden bear And a cute girl bearing the weight of the world on her shoulder Cute warbonnet girl Im not asking for anything in return Just an acknowledgment That i was nice to you most of the time And that all those people heaping praise on you now Secretly want you dead before your big fight begins Merinding my ass
Kerja intelektual menggoreng pisang Seperti memesan iced chocolate dalam tetekmu Aku tidak pernah merasakan Sendal menggantung dari tali rafia Di pohon jati tempat ojex mangkal Tidak bisa teler kemudian menulis puisi Maupun bertemu brondong Kemudian coli Begitu banyak sop buah aneka juice ice campur Menenun benang wol di boncengan paman Bagaimana mentransfer tubuh ke dalam tulisan Biarpun pake tumblr app tanpa konekshun Segera dibuka hotel syariah al marwah He woulndtve put this in since darrr Suku dinas kebakaran minum kopi dulu di tatakan emas All cute and menggetarkan hati FIRE GHOST: Love Jakarta
amen
Hi there. Been a while.
Jadi begini. Kira-kira 2 minggu lalu gua ultah ke 25. Cuma beda sehari setelah itu lalu jadian. Semuanya tampak oke… 1) gua jadian sama orang yang punya sifat2 sama karakter sama body type yang sesuai sama yang gua pengen 2) sejak itu satu per satu deadline penting bisa…
i feel like replacing the airplane mode button on my go switch bar with something more practical like the seven zen habits of highly consumptive people
i eat capitalism for breakfast
i need an extra n to spell out yr name on wordfeud
i know u like me too by yr nervousness as we walk along the pavement for what seemed like centuries
and a nanosecond
i can feel the quiver in yr voice
as u regale the coolish night air with stories of repressed urges (not yours)
i want desperately to embrace you
but both of us rely on the reliability of love
to extinguish itself when it has run its course
do not swap tiles, ull lose yr turn
Mungkin aku ingin jadi dia. Atau aku ingin punya pekerjaannya. Better pay, won’t make me dumb. At least not too soon. Atau aku ingin jadi pacarnya, atau pembantunya, bagian dari hidupnya sehari-hari. Mungkin tukang ojek langganan yang bisa menanyakannya pertanyaan-pertanyaan yang tidak akan dia jawab juga. Atau dia jawab tapi tidak kedengaran karena udara di saat kita bergerak cepat bisa jadi begitu bising. Aku ingin menontonnya mengeringkan badannya yang kecil telanjang di depan cermin kamar mandi. Mungkin kemudian memeluknya dari belakang. Bilang, you’re just like my wife. I feel like whatever you want me to do, I’ll do. Tell me to become you.
took shower at an abandoned shopfront. had to stash my bike for the winter (honda tiger). water ran grey. dust. on walls and everything. inside showerhead. a security guard came, stared at my naked body. i stared back. walked out of the shower into late afternoon at an office. everyone was still there. cornered a colleague. collared him, i said, how long has he worked here huh. nine years, he said. two years longer than me. im gonna make him pay, i said. i looked out of the window. outside the world looked like what it was like in wall-e.
