Langsung ke konten utama

Please, Please, Please

 

Gusar sehabis gempa belum juga mereda, sudah tertimpa tangga lagi. Seluruhku sudah hampir habis digerogoti musim, tidak tahu akan beregenerasi cepat atau lambat. Hanya mampu berjalan terseok lemah pada bentangan rute yang sudah dituliskan, pelan dan tak pasti. 


Aku sudah lama berkorban, tapi mungkin pengorbananku belum dianggap purna. Karena rupa keikhlasan sejati belum utuh kupahami. Nyatanya berat sekali membagi tanpa tapi, aku masih harus remedial lagi. Percaya pada sesuatu yang abstrak dan tanpa rupa itu sulit sekali. Aku harus menghapus mindset transaksional bagi-membagi. Memangkas semua ambisi dan egoisme diri. Meluaskan lagi definisi ‘cukup’ dan ‘berbesar hati’.


Meski nyaris runtuh, tapi pundakku tak boleh menyentuh tanah; setidaknya itu yang harus ku perlihatkan pada mata-mata yang menaruh harap. Tapi sekali ini saja, izinkan aku meloloskan air mata yang tak terbendung sejadi-jadinya dalam hening tengah hari. Kiranya semesta memaklumi. 


-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 ...

Leave The Past as It Is~

  Scrolling through old tweets, old photos, old group chats… it’s like opening a little time capsule where everything felt lighter, more full of connection, and like life hadn’t scattered everyone yet. That’s kind of feeling is grief, in a quiet, tender kind of way. You're grieving how life used to be. And it makes sense. Back then, you probably weren’t thinking about responsibilities, future plans, or staying connected—because everything just was. Friends were near, laughter was easy, and the world felt more within reach. As we grow up, people drift. Life paths split off in quiet ways. It doesn’t mean those friendships didn’t matter—they did. They shaped you. And even if they faded, the joy you felt back then was real, and yours forever. You’re not broken for missing what was. You’re human. Tender-hearted. Nostalgic. And that’s a beautiful thing. Realizing that life doesn’t always separate people with big, dramatic goodbyes. Sometimes it’s just distance, time, priorities shifting ...