Langsung ke konten utama

Kamu Bisa Apa?

 



Sebuah tanya keras sekali memeking di selusur kepala. Lalu kemudian aku cuma bisa tersentak, memikirkan dalam-dalam jawaban dari tanya yang bergema. Ku amati dengan seksama pantulan diriku di cermin, perasaan rendah berkecamuk segera. Belum terlalu renta, namun tak jua cukup muda. 


“Kamu bisa apa?”


Kali ini gemanya cukup keras. Cukup membuat sekujur tubuh lemas. Jawaban itu ada di antah berantah. Pantulan diriku terlihat tak terkendali. Kacau dan berantakan sekali. Apa ini potret diri tanpa filter dan riasan? Di sana sini penuh bekas borok. Sebagian bahkan belum sepenuhnya kering. 


“Kamu bisa apa?”


Gema suara itu laksana halilintar di tengah malam. Meraung di rapuhnya jiwa. Kini aku jadi muak sendiri melihat rupa diriku di cermin. Ku pejamkan mataku, menolak untuk melihat sosok yang ada di hadapanku. Tapi kupikir ini lah pantulan diriku yang sejujur-jujurnya. Tak satupun orang tahu. Lambat laun ku buka mataku lagi. Meski setengah bergidik, aku harus bisa menerima diri sendiri bukan? Ini lah aku. 


“Kamu bisa apa?”


Kali ini aku lebih berani ketika suara itu datang lagi. Lagipula aku sudah menemukan jawabnya.


“Aku tak berdaya, tak bisa apa-apa,” jawabku dengan lantang. Pasrah, ku biarkan diriku dikuliti sampai habis.


“Aku kalah,” pungkasku sambil menyerah.


-vic

Komentar

Postingan populer dari blog ini

Supernova

  Million bulbs in the void, bursts into a piece as its light disperse, like a supernova, we dwell in the fading light, fight against gravity and grow red, restart, become blue with fury, sedated by dark, concourse into the blackhole, turning it into a singularity, succumbing to the demise, reconciled with eternity. We were once scintilation, before we collapse into one, so what are we now? -vic

To Be Small Before the Divine

The storm within me has known no rest. It visits in the hush between dawn and prayer, when the world still slumbers, and my thoughts grow loud. The earth spins swiftly on its axis, chasing the sun with relentless haste, yet here I stand—tethered, heavy, slow. My soul lags behind the march of men; I watch the days unravel like threads slipping from weary hands. I meet countless faces, radiant and certain, yet within me, doubt stirs like a restless tide. I ask myself,  Who am I in the vast decree of His creation?  A breath among storms, a grain among mountains, a spark that flickers, known only to the One who kindled it. The world teaches us to run—to build, to gather, to proclaim our worth upon fragile pedestals—but my heart whispers another truth: that to diminish oneself before the Divine is the only way to truly rise. For what glory can man claim when his end is dust, when his pulse is but a loan from the Almighty? I have seen men boast of their light, yet forget that light ...

O, distant memory

How’s life, O distant memory? With hesitant steps I try to come closer You seemed reluctant to draw near. and I guess I can understand. You kept the space just as it is, But only for tonight Maybe you’ll let us talk about world’s history and conspiracy theories, and you will listen to my rumbles until dawn comes. But I can’t keep my eyes open any longer. The voice of sunrise arrives, and it becomes the end of our conversation. What’s new, O distant memory? Too late to greet you, ain’t I? You seem to drift farther along our broken line. Yet for now, let me hold you in my hand. We’ll shoot the bull about the parallel universe we used to dream of— because in this universe, we’ve wasted so much time. But I guess what happens, happens. I let you drift away through the clouds. I let myself stay still in possibility and impossibility. Will I always be reminiscing you? Will I find my way to you? O, distant memory Wander home to the silent shore  —vic