English, Memoir, Racauan

Dysphoria #1: Self-made Hell

This is a work fiction. All resemblance with the reality is on purpose. Explicit content.

It is obvious that my loneliness is the main cause of all these fuss, unfaithfulness, the distorted feeling of entitlement. It is my most deceptive defensive mechanism–that the truth, in itself, is self destructing. I am alienating people in order to alienate myself from the hell that they construct.

Creating my own hell, is better than living somebody else’s heaven.

Thus, I hurt myself again, just to find a way to make me forget that I am lonely. I hurt myself with bulimia, with days of sleep, with obsessive scratching, cutting, and obsessive exercise when the manic came, sleepless nights, and after that I still want to punch any guy, or fuck any girl that I think deserve my fist or my dick. I am all open to fight or fuck because I’m sick of flight.

And I’d desperately love anybody who wants to love me. And I’d burn myself, sacrifice myself, ready to be crucify like Jesus H. Christ, and I’d beg people not to leave me until they’d got annoyed and see me as a freak and they need to leave me to stay sane because I’d drive them crazy, so I’d drive my car. I’d drive and drink myself hope to die on the road, hopefully with other assholes that swarming the highways of this city.

And all of it would be my fault. Nobody can blame or even care about my disorder, my upbringing, the system that I am in. I and only I, will be held responsible for all this mess that’s happening with my life and other people that I dragged.

The fucking shrink might say that this thought is cognitive distortion, self entitlement, but fuck you, the court, the people’s court cannot hold my disorder, my upbringing responsible for my actions. They cannot put those abstract nouns in jail, they could not rehabilitate my illness. It is I and only I, will be held responsible for my actions.

And what else should I do but to embrace what the universe has given me? I have eliminate the choice to take my own life because of the meds or because I’m a fucking coward. Anyway, I have no choice but struggle against a sea of trouble and by opposing hope to end them. Even though I know, that I will lose and drown and will face inevitable slow death. But at least I did fight back and refuse to flight.

At least I did good, at being brave. To open my eyes every day, and trying hard to get out of bed and go out to the world. To fight or to fuck. And if I have to lose love again, I think it’s just because I don’t deserve love. I am condemn to beg. For mercy, for love, for attention, only to toss it all out, when I feel lonely.

Because of this distorted feelings and thought, that I’d rather be alone, than be lonely. And the only way to be out of the misery of loneliness, is to break all ties and be perfectly alone to face the misery of the ubermench, the homo deus. Until there is no happines or misery any more, until there is no value in the narrative of my life.

It is when I became forgetful, mad, or die.

Sickness unto death.

This site is run by donation. If you like what you read, please be a patron at by clicking this link.

Cinta, Puisi

Ini Kabar Dia Yang Kau Tanyakan

Buang ke bintang-bintang, cerita kita pernah jadi binatang berpunuk dua di sarang peri-peri hutan kota ini.

Kadang lara ada dan tiada, seperti cintamu yang kau sembur di lidah dan ludahnya, hingga semburatnya di dadamu, di perutmu, tapi tidak di mulutmu.

Mulutmu hanya untuk ku. Bibirmu adalah liang menuju sungai-sungai waktu, surai-surai di derai-derai pelangi; kaki-kakinya menghubungkan lidahmu dan lidahku.

Dan lidahku di liangmu, kau menggelinjang dan dawai-dawai ribuan syarafmu kumainkan dengan jari-jemari ajaib ku. Desah, resah akan akhir sebuah kisah yang bisa jadi sangat menyakitkan karena semua ini tak terasa salah.

Namun kita tahu ada tabu ditabuh dalam ritme tubuh kita. Maka kita saling menolak cinta, dan kita buang kata-kata ke angkasa.

Menjadi meteor-meteor yang menabrak bintang-bintang. Memandu arah jalan pulang, jiwa-jiwa yang mengejar kerinduan.

Jakarta, 2020.

Alam, Eksistensialisme, Perlawanan, Puisi

Homunculus

Source: http://tamrielvault.com/group/character-building/forum/topics/character-build-the-hermit
Source: http://tamrielvault.com/group/character-building/forum/topics/character-build-the-hermit

Seorang tua dan anak kecil
Tinggal di belantara pikiranku

Si orang tua penuh bijak dan menganggap
Dirinya tiada

Si anak kecil penuh cinta dan menganggap
Dirinya segala

Si orang tua bersemedi di pohon nan tinggi
Si anak kecil bermain di rimba nan buas

Si orang tua menguasai hari terang
Si anak kecil menguasai hari gelap

Terkadang mereka berseteru
Hutan terbakar jadi debu menderu
Dalam kacau mereka berseru:
Biarkan aku jadi aku!

Tapi terkadang mereka bergandengan
Seperti magrib dan subuh yang meremang
Si muda diangkat, ditimang-timang
Si tua menjingkat, tersenyum senang

Dan begitulah belantaraku
Jinak dan buas, haus dan puas
Lembut dan keras, dingin dan panas
Baik dan jahat, lepas dan lekat

Semua paradoks belantaraku
Tak pernah ia kering
Tak pernah ia habis
Walau selalu terkikis