At night. Lying under my blanket in a darkened room. Accompanied by distant sounds of stray cats mewling as they look for leftovers in the garbage. I think about many ways to die. Maybe I'm getting hit by a city bus. Falling from high places. Drowning in a shallow pool like a fool. Cutting the skin a little bit too deep or at the wrong place. Going deep into slumber and never return.
And I start thinking about the people. The livings. Noticing how only a few names appear. Noting how, probably, it is only a handful of people who will get notified when I'm truly gone. That guy I'm having a big crush on probably will have no idea what's happening; he doesn't even know that I'm re-reading our mundane, casual texts like it's worth any writing award. The friends I made through internet connections, at best, will wonder for a moment why my account is not updating, or why it is deactivated several weeks too long. The books, the drama series and movies I collected throughout the years will stay untouched, most likely getting thrown out as the days go by because my parent don't know what to do with them.
Taking a deep breath, eyes staring into the dark, I keep asking myself. Where will it be, then? Here, alone, inside my room, that no one but me has the key? And my body will be found at much later time when the smell has become a nuisance. Or will it be in a strange place I have never visited before? Or will my lifeless body lies amongst the muttering crowd, hands can be seen everywhere carrying phones to take pictures? I wonder if I will be able to see myself on that particular day.
I can hear my own heartbeat in the silence.
I feel the air goes into my lungs, then out from both nostrils.
I can sense the blood tirelessly rushing throughout my still body.
And tonight, just like countless nights in the past, I sleep crying.
And I start thinking about the people. The livings. Noticing how only a few names appear. Noting how, probably, it is only a handful of people who will get notified when I'm truly gone. That guy I'm having a big crush on probably will have no idea what's happening; he doesn't even know that I'm re-reading our mundane, casual texts like it's worth any writing award. The friends I made through internet connections, at best, will wonder for a moment why my account is not updating, or why it is deactivated several weeks too long. The books, the drama series and movies I collected throughout the years will stay untouched, most likely getting thrown out as the days go by because my parent don't know what to do with them.
Taking a deep breath, eyes staring into the dark, I keep asking myself. Where will it be, then? Here, alone, inside my room, that no one but me has the key? And my body will be found at much later time when the smell has become a nuisance. Or will it be in a strange place I have never visited before? Or will my lifeless body lies amongst the muttering crowd, hands can be seen everywhere carrying phones to take pictures? I wonder if I will be able to see myself on that particular day.
I can hear my own heartbeat in the silence.
I feel the air goes into my lungs, then out from both nostrils.
I can sense the blood tirelessly rushing throughout my still body.
And tonight, just like countless nights in the past, I sleep crying.
z. d. imama
1st time coming here
ReplyDeletesaya fokus di kalimat terakhirnya
kadang suka gak tega kalo ngeliat anakku tidur sambil nangis
bawaannya pengen takpeluk aja
*peyuk zi*
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