broken, bab 2

saya tidak pernah suka orang yang bunuh diri. sylvia plath sekalipun. apalagi orang yang mengancam bunuh diri tapi nggak mati-mati. haduh itu paling harap. bikin panik aja. total attention seeker. tapi saya ingin bercerita, tentang suatu saat di dalam hidup saya, waktu saya mengerti, kenapa ada orang yang merasa memang lebih baik cabs aj dariContinue reading “broken, bab 2”

floater

i had a really great pie in toowoomba. nice line for a poem. but i don’t feel like poetry. ingin rasanya meneruskan otobiografiku, broken, part 1. tapi tidak merasa punya tenaga. pagi ini berangkat kantor pukul 6, ke tebet pukul 3, ke permata hijau pukul 4, pulang ke ciledug pukul 6. pantes banyak kata pukul,Continue reading “floater”

broken, bab 1

saya meninggalkan jakarta pada umur 16. saya ingat waktu itu sore-sore, saya hampir jatuh terpeleset lumpur merah habis hujan di depan rumah. coba saya beneran jatuh terus kepala saya bocor kena batu taman, dan saya tidak jadi pergi ke australia, mungkin saya tidak akan jadi orang seperti saya yang sekarang. saya pertama kali pindah keContinue reading “broken, bab 1”

redwing

i don’t remember what we did between dinner and sleep. sometimes your mum would cook dinner sometimes i did. onion, garlic, courgette, eggplant, bits of what’s left of the meat. spices. sometimes italian most of the times indian. seeing the huge big red kangaroos made me feel there is a god somewhere in this world.Continue reading “redwing”

life in pastiche, its fantastisch ! #1

DONALD 
BARTHELME ONESTORY MS D NAKOVA’s milk-white Russian cheek blushed red broken maps of Australia everytime she took me to bed. The sandstone walls of her basement apartment coughed up dust and the red flush moved to the tip of her hooked nose, transported by the IGA brand tissues she wiped her allergy-borne mucus with.Continue reading “life in pastiche, its fantastisch ! #1”

I have long carried the following thought(s)/emotion(s) in my head:

  The next installment in my Nunzia Nanzio stories where we leave mike d. and rob g. and go on a walk around the block where they live:  The people who live on and around this narrow, tree-lined, strip remember nothing, have no memories of their past, anything, except for an instinct to use whateverContinue reading “I have long carried the following thought(s)/emotion(s) in my head:”

Pas l’éducation sentimentale

– now i can live without this this distilling of a day thru the cheap (less than aus$10,000) coffee machine of me brain. no more waiting waiting waiting for the splotch splutter swish of dirty brown half quarter no truths into the cracked coffee single-serve cups of me minimum opus. – i can live withoutContinue reading “Pas l’éducation sentimentale”