03.39 PM

Never before I feel the stink breath of death so near its chill runs through my spine.

For every unfortunate incidents, I think “is it bad omen?”

And every nice thing happens, “will this be the last?”

“what will become of everything after this?”

“how could I ever survive?”

Still, it isn’t death of mine that I fear, but death of another.

If I could give some of my lifespan to someone else, I would.

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08.28 PM

Death always frightens me.

It’s the only thing I cannot control no matter how much I try

I lost my grandmother two months ago. It never occurred to me death would take her all of so sudden, it comes just like a thief. Road accident took her. Six days in hospital until she gave up. Apparently the physical trauma was too much and neither her body nor consciousness could handle. It was too much.

It was Saturday night and I just got home from hospital with my mother when the news reached us. I was planning on coming back the next morning and bring my lip balm because her lips looked so chapped. Six days spent in ICU unconscious, she got the water and nutrition intake only through IV. But it was too late.

I came to visit her the next day, but she lied on hospital bed no more. Her body was inside a coffin filled by some of her belongings, she wore clothes I’ve never seen worn by her, and her body was covered by sheer fabric. She was in ICU no more but funeral home. I got there in the afternoon after we went to the church in the morning. That day, I decided to stop praying. Stop believing in any form of miracle or spiritual reassurance anymore. That day, I decided to eliminate god and its associates from my life.

Three days on funeral home, I didn’t cry that much. Not as much as that Saturday night when I cried myself to sleep. The hardest part was the ceremony before they closed the coffin it was the last time I cried when we were at the funeral home. Days later, I observed so many people came by and told stories about my grandmother. It was as if I know her even more than when she was alive.

Night before we were going to bury her, we had sleepover at grandma’s house. We even slept in her room and her bed. It was weird coming to her home but wasn’t greeted by her wide toothless smile. But perhaps we were tired already. I was tired already that I fell asleep as soon as I laid my head.

The next morning we came back to the funeral home and going to the cemetery. She was going to be buried next to my grandfather who died ten years ago. There I watched as people put her coffin down. I was standing near my mother the whole time. To keep her safe? To give her reassurance? I didn’t know, I only knew that it was best to be near her that time. Right after the ceremony is done, we were about to go home. I said the exact words I used to say whenever I am about to go home after visiting her

“Oma, pulang dulu ya”

But that time, I wasn’t facing her who’s standing on the terrace giving her wide toothless smile and hearing her saying goodbyes. That time, I was facing a cold headstone and was only replied by silence. I tried so hard to hold my tear, because I know it would only make my mother cry even more if she saw it.

Few weeks ago, I came again to their grave for it was the forty-ninth days and there was some ceremonial should be done. I thought I wouldn’t cry anymore because the atmosphere itself wasn’t surrounded by sadness. We shared stories of some of us had dreams about her. I guess the atmosphere was more nostalgic than sad. But when it was the time to go, I said the words out of habit, and still it felt weird. It feels strange to say those words onto a cold headstone not a warm smile.

I imagine how strange it would be when it comes to Chinese New Year, or that one day when we visit graves of our family to clean it up and gives the dead offerings, or whenever we feel like visiting her home, but her presence is no longer there.

She gave me a perfect mother I couldn’t ask for more, I believe she was one too. It took me weeks to finally be able to write about her. I am not a person who shows affection easily. There were no I love you’s came out from my mouth, no hugs or kisses given, but I loved her just the same.

And nothing frightens me more than the death of any other people I love.

 

Fragments 04

She hates it.

When it’s the middle of the night and she’s suddenly awaken.

Because it will be hours until she finally could go back to sleep. As her mind wanders through thoughts and memories which are long gone. Or simply caught up with things which don’t bother her at daylight, but nighttime changes it all.

And at this kind of time, she specifically craves to be coddled back to sleep.

Sneaks between his breaths and lay her head on his chest. Because she knows he would wake up and ask;

“why are you awake?”

I couldn’t sleep

“Shhh, come here. Let’s go back to sleep, shall we?”

As he holds her and caress her head.

Or he may not wake up to ease her with words, but he’d still wrap her arms around her, and caress her back or arms, or cheek, like out of habit so she’ll be asleep.

That won’t guarantee she’ll fall back asleep in no time, but she knows it will take her mind off of things and at this time, that’s good enough for her.

But how fantasy could serve her any good at this hour? As she’s laying on her bed, pouring what’s on her mind off the notes and he’s sleeping, far away, at his own bed.

06.57 PM

 I do believe human life is disposable.

Yes, disposable.

I cannot stand the idea of place called afterlife or heaven or hell. As much as I often say that I’ll be condemned to hell after I die, I don’t believe such torturous place exists as such pleasing and rewarding place like heaven does. Those are just extended version of reward-and punishment teaching method brings to larger scale of life and death.

When we die, we cease to exist as our consciousness dies. We still may live through our descendants as they carry our genes and DNA. People may carry our norms and values and take it as their own. Beside that we also can live through their memory of us. Problem is, how they remember us is not ours to manage or maintain. Our biological body will be decomposed and nourishes the soil which will be used by another life form to grow. What on life could offer a better way to end your life as to help others to nourish?

Certainly whatever heaven and hell could offer cannot beat this one.

There was only time when my beloved one and only grandmother died two weeks ago. It pained me. I for a split second wanted to believe heaven does exist. When my relatives told one another to pray so she could be born again in much happier world, so she could have a pleasant way and quick journey when reaching heaven and live happily ever after there.

For a split second, I wish I could pray.

For a split second, I wish I could believe such thing.

But as much as I tried to, I cannot.

So I just followed the religious procedure and ceremonial, I chanted the prayers, I participated in the rituals, merely as a physical body.

At this point I may seem cold and heartless. But if only you could imagine the beauty she’ll bring like how I see it. Because I believe her strong and benevolent values are passed already to her descendants and we’ll take that as our own as her biological identity is already passed through us. And to imagine her body will nourishes the soil on the place which will be her last resting place as another life grows on it. She’s not gone like that; she lives but takes another form. Nothing could beat those even the imaginary scene any paradise could ever bring.

But it’s different with relationships. People come and go. Literally and metaphorically. Physically and mentally. How long they will stay with us, maintain their relationship with us, it’s not for us to choose and sometimes it’s not theirs either.

And that terrifies me.

As much as I believe how disposable human life is, as much as I convinced that I am stoic, I cannot stand the loss of any relationships. At some point you’re at the closest time with some people, you laugh together, you tease each other, you share affections platonically or romantically, you say goodbye or goodnight thinking you’ll talk again to them in no time or meeting them tomorrow.

But just like that, they’re gone. Perhaps not instantly, perhaps they fade gradually. It drained me mentally and physically just the same. For not knowing when is the last time. For not knowing either you get a hold of them or you do not. The instant loss of one’s presence is as painful as the gradually fading one.

For all I know, I’ve been retreating and curling myself up with my own bubble and staying still, while covering every single malfunctioning parts of me that’s happening with jokes or shallow laughter.

Anything to keep the questions away and obligations to explain what is happening with me. Because there are things that are happening right now inside that I cannot begin to explain just yet. Or perhaps never will. And I’d do anything, to keep my mind off of it.

Either way, I’m not myself at the time being, and I don’t know either for how long.

The vacancy is still here and I don’t know how to fill it yet I’m all feelings, exposed yet unsteady. I’d do whatever it takes to fill it and make it rigid. Even if I have to break limits I’ve set for myself at any aspects to steer this vacancy away.

09.40 PM

Seeing my mother cries breaks my heart.

To acknowledge why does she cry and unable to comfort her, let alone do a thing about it, devastates me.

Because I know she’s crying out of fear. She’s frightened.

And the same thing that make she’s frightened, frightens me as well.

And there are things which must be making her mad. That same thing makes me even more furious. Yet I don’t want her to be drowned into hatred like I have.

Seeing her devastated and frightened yet can do nothing about it frustrates me.

Fuck you. Whoever up there, claiming to be the almighty. You can’t even put smiles on kind people’s face, these days. Stop calling yourself the almighty and stop asking for people’s praise.

01.31 AM

Dear Father,

I’ve only discovered that you’ve passed away this evening, tonight. I cannot stop crying ever since. I don’t even know why. I’ve never been close to any Pastors on our church anyway. But somehow, what you delivered on each mass I attended, got through me. I’ve always enjoyed how the mass went when you were leading it. The homily, the songs, those were good old time when I enjoyed going to church every week.

I remember you left for Australia to pursue your education. I remember I asked if we can take a picture before you leave. I remember I asked you to pray for me so I could pass university entrance test. I remember I told you I want to take design major, although I had not discovered yet what kind of design. I just told you I like to draw. I remember you told me that you like my writings on my blog. I still have no idea up until now which writings did you read and from which blog. But you remembered. Perhaps that was what makes people love you.

Even after you left, you still remember. In every birthday message you sent every year, you kept asking when can you see my designs and when will you read my writings again.

It was as if you believe that I would be a good designer or writer.

I even remember that one time you traveled back and delivered a mass on our church. I greeted you after the service and you did ask me once to design something for you. Something you haven’t said what it is and when, yet you have gone to another place.

We might not be that close, but those little things you had done, those little things you kept asking about, it was like some glimmer energy I keep as remembrance that I was once an eager and passionate one.

When I began to let loose of my faith, I thought about contacting you via facebook. Like, perhaps you could talk some sense into me and guide me to go back and build a better foundation over my faith. But I was afraid that you may be disappointed that I’ve gone into another direction. And also afraid to have faith once more because I’ve never felt ready and still want to venture out questioning everything.

But I think those fear are no use now.

So long, Father. May your soul venture freely in the vast universe. Find the form of liberation you believed in.  Let your energy stays and shaped into another form that still helps and guides the people who believe and the people who are lost yet still want to be found.

Yours sincerely,

Your lost little sheep.

09.58 PM

People like you are the reason I secretly wish heaven and hell do exist.

So I can watch your body being burned and turned into ashes. Just enough for your ashes to reform as you to be burned again.

And again,

and again for the millionth, billionth, trillionth, gazillion of time.

Until the past, the present, and the future become one as whole. Until time loses grip over itself and exists just as it is, sequence of events happening on loop. Until time becomes indefinite continued progress of existence and works beyond any measurement any entity can discover, or create.

Good god, I could watch you burn for eternity and would not be bored even for a millisecond.

Actually,

I would even sell my soul to the Devil himself to be the one who lit that fire every time your body is reformed. So I could see the fear right in your eyes. And savor even the tiniest drop of satisfaction it brings from causing the fear which will not leave your eyes, ever.

And just so you’ll know, even that would not be enough for you to repay all the unnecessary struggles, miseries, and pain me and my family have to endure.