Dear Diary,
October 2015
I don’t really know about all this things. I cried
for hours last night. Hoped for the best of this fucking life. What if I’m
begging You to stop? But, I’m not a quitter. Maybe I just need some valium or
even more vervein. I really need that but I know someone who know me so well
will never let me do that (anymore).
But, this condition is so confusing me a lot. I was
just surprise that my life is full of rejection. Even, it’s comes from the one
who should take care of me. And, another version of reality, I stuck there. Can’t
move faster cause there’s something inside me hold me so tight. Hold my soul.
I just wanna running away from You. but, you stay
closer every single time while everyobody else is just laughing at me because I’m becoming crazy day after day. I can’t
fight this things anymore. How many times I should say or even scream over your
ear about my feeling? I’m done with this, Dad. I’m done.
Malam itu, seperti biasa. Aku pergi ke taman kota.
Bersama teman sekaligus gitaris yang selalu aku panggil “Jazzy”. I don’t know I really like that name. Jazzy.
So, when I started to call her so, she doesn’t mind anyway. You know, sometimes it’s your call to give
yourself the best name ever. Because name is a hope. Name is also a wish. And,
they are calling me “Walker”. Hahahahahhaha agak konyol jika dibahasa-Indonesia-kan
adalah ‘pejalan’. Tetapi, pada prakterknya mereka memanggilku demikian karena
aku terkenal suka sesuatu yang berhubungan dengan kecepatan, mesin, adrenalin,
dan jalan. I like to driving along the
street. With high speed of course.
So, jadilah malam itu kami melakukan pesta
minuman. Seorang Walker dan sesosok Jazzy. Bukan minuman yang memabukkan. Hanya
dua botol soda yang sudah pasti akan kami kocok dengan kuat terlebih dahulu
sebelum membukanya. You see that?
BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM !!!!!!!!!
Jazzy :
Hey, it’s firework!!! *Laughing all aloud*
Me : I say it ‘paradise’, Jazz!!!! *Run away,
then Jazzy run after me too*
Jazzy : So,
How was your Dad?
Me : Nothing. Really nothing.
Jazzy : Sure?
But your eyes say hmmmmmm different way. Come on tell me, girl. It’s okay.
Raise Yours !! |
Dua puluh menit berlalu. Tanpa canda. Tanpa cela. Hanya
ada perempuan bergelar Walker yang berkisah tentang jaman colonial di era
modern. Tentang kebebasan yang tidak bisa ditebus dengan apapun. Tentang rasa
sakit yang tidak bisa disembuhkan dengan herbal macam manapun. Tentang seseorang
yang telah hilang. Long gone. Tetapi jasadnya
masih gentayangan. Dan, lagi. jasad itu benar-benar membuatmu muak akan
kehidupan.
Jazzy : So, how it’s feel?
Me : Feel?
What?
Jazzy : Your feeling to stand without him…
Me : So
much better. But, its killing me when he calling me up again. Everytime, Jazz. Jazz…
Jazzy : Hmmm?
Me : Am I look
like a good guy?
Jazzy : what did you said? Of course you’re good
person.
Me : Then,
why does my life turn into something miserable?
Jazzy : *Look
at the stars over the sky* I’m not sure about that, but one think I know for
sure about you…….that you deserve better.
Me : Am I?
Jazzy : Yeah,
let’s laugh until the pain doesn’t matter anymore. Let’s rave until the sun
goes down.
Me : So,
ayoooo bersulang. Untuk Rosalie Walker dan Jazzy Je!!!!!!
Jazzy : Of course, Sweet Walker !!!! *We toss the cola
up in the air*
So, semua ini kembali lagi tentang pilihan. You choose. You will determind. And in the
end you will also pick the result up. When the thing never run as the plan, it’s
called ‘Life’.
And if my
life has a soundtrack, it must be “STOP” by David Guetta ft Ryan Tedder. I recommend
it as an acoustic version.
Rosalie
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