Cinta, Eksistensialisme, English, Puisi, Racauan



There is a place where we don’t have to choose. We can love each other freely, out of differences or social restraints. This place is an island of mystery and secrets; our mystery, our secret. It is a garden that we nurture, sacred, therefore we need to protect it with all our might.

It has to be kept from the outside world. And the outside has to be kept from it. For when a breach exist, both will ruin one another, and consume us like the giant snake of time. You, me, and the world we live in will cease to exist, thus end life as we know it.

So let us protect it with complications; create a deep labyrinth with tricks and traps, with monsters and demigods. You have your minotaur, I’ll have my Medusa. But beware of the green-eyed cyclops luring from behind the mountain. For it is a blind Shiva, with Uoroboros on his neck, ready to destroy anything on its path. Its eyeball is a mirror of a bitter truth, that will open any secrets, expose every sin, and use it to kill us.

It will pollute our island, defile our garden, and we will be transformed from angels and fairies to be a two shouldered beast. We will eat each other, and when we’re done, we will eat ourselves. From carcasses of our memories we will make our body; a chimera, the undead.

Alas, even to imagine it we quiver with fear, more than we fear death. For death is nothing but eternal sleep, but this clash of two worlds, is a big bang to eternal nightmare. She run through frozen fire and burning ice, and we’ll be her tormented captive. We’ll be forgetful of each torture, so every time we die, we’ll be revived with fresh memories to run with her and die again and again and again…

Thus, to avoid that mare, we meet each other’s eyes, and we lie truthfully. So truthful that we come to believe, that there was no secret island, no sacred garden. Just lonely people who happened to have the same imagination, but never share it to one another.

Nobody will ever know our great golden copulations, our Dionysian ritual, but ourselves, individually. Just a glimpse of an eye, is a thousand years in that island, that secret garden. Keep that secret, and we can die in peace and dignity in reality, while live happily ever after in the island.

Lie to each other, live with each other, life for each other, love one another.

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