Isolation.

There are some personal aspects that I prefer to keep to myself, and this is how I cope. Sometimes I smile. Sometimes I don't smile when I really want to. Self-control, I told myself. Whatever it was I had in mind, it was restrained, forgotten, void forever.

Sometimes I nod. I had no idea what they said, but I nodded. I never knew what good I was other than listening, so I nodded. There are so many of them, in a lot of shapes and forms. I found out that I did not even need to listen, I just had to nod, and nod I did, and have been ever since.

Eye contact is a big red light. I keep my sight low and narrow, careful by nature. It drains me and somehow there's a certain danger I could detect. I hated those sunbeam-like entities, charming and loud. I was a shadow, and they hurt my eyes.

She said I plug my ears too much it contorts my reality. Honey, if only you could hear what I heard you would wish you never had them. Noises, not sounds. Screeching, too close, and tangling knots in my brain. I want to scream, but nothing comes out. A little squeak, lost in the crowd.

"Dark in here," I whispered. It looms over and replied, "It keeps me alive."

"Cold, too."

"I like cold." It said, smiling.

And we're friends ever since. I never told anyone. It never wants to go away anyway.

In a sense, yes, I am isolated. I am in a box, yet you never knew. I am locked inside, deaf and dumb.

"You have the key. Unlock yourself out." You would say.

I would, but knowing what's out there, I'd rather starve myself inside. It keeps me company.

Insomniac.

Aku tak bisa tidur, pikirku galau. iPod-ku masih melantunkan lagu pelan dari daftar putar "Sleep" Spotify, volume sedang, dan seharusnya dapat membuatku tertidur. Tetapi aku masih mendengarnya. Suara gemerisik. Dari atas atap. Dari lantai bawah. Dari tali jemuran di luar.

Kamar bisa menjadi tiba-tiba dingin. Aku tinggal di lantai dua yang jendelanya dapat dibuka dan langsung diterpa angin. Jam 2 sampai jam 6 adalah jam-jam kritis untuk jari-jari kakiku. Dan telingaku. Aku mendengar suara angin dan atap seperti kejatuhan sesuatu. Telapak kakiku dingin dan mati rasa.

Ada sensasi yang tidak bisa dijelaskan ketika kamu terlalu sering bangun malam. Dini hari bisa menjadi sangat familiar, sepi dan nyaman untuk berkonsentrasi. Di satu sisi, itu terlalu sepi dan menjadi sangat asing. Aku selalu menjadi sangat sensitif pada suara, pada temperatur, pada bau. Terkadang aku harus berpegangan pada sesuatu untuk meyakinkan diriku sendiri bahwa aku benar sedang bangun. Aku benar-benar mencium sesuatu, merasakan dinginnya angin, atau mendengar bunyi gemerisik yang nyata.

Aku akan mendengar suara seperti orang berbicara, atau berbisik, di lantai bawah, dan aku akan turun. Aku membawa gelas sekaligus untuk mengambil minum, sambil melingkupkan diriku pada selimut yang hangat. Aku mendapati suara nyanyian dari satu kamar di lantai bawah, dan merasa lega karena aku tahu aku tidak gila, dan aku benar mendengar sesuatu.

Aku tidak keberatan dengan chat tengah malam atau dini hari, karena keberadaan seseorang membantuku berpegangan pada kenyataan bahwa aku terbangun, aku mampu bercakap-cakap dan merangkai kalimat secara koheren. Kau tidak bisa yakin akan hal itu ketika bermimpi.

Kau tahu meja kecil yang biasa dibawa anak-anak saat lomba mewarnai? Aku memiliki satu, yang kugantung agar rapi di gantungan tempel di samping meja belajarku, hanya lima senti dari permukaan lantai. Jam 2 pagi, ia terjatuh dan menyadarkanku dari keadaan setengah tidur. Aku tertawa kering dan merasa bodoh. Tiga jam kemudian aku tertidur lelap.

Selalu saja begini. Aku sudah siap tertidur, daftar putar musik menenangkan di iPod pun sudah disetel, walaupun aku masih sulit tertidur dan sudah sejam aku menanti dewi tidur mendatangiku. Aku mendengar suara tempat sampah di depan terjatuh. Terjatuh mungkin bukan kata yang tepat. Dijatuhkan lebih tepat. Bukannya dewi tidur yang datang, malah makhluk kelaparan. Aku mengeluarkan wadah kecil berisi makanan kucing yang tersisa dan menaruhnya di dekat tempat sampah. Kucing liar itu langsung melompat dari tempat sampah dan terdiam di atas pinggiran jemuran menatapku. Aku kembali masuk ke kamar. Aku tertidur lima jam kemudian, setelah menonton beberapa episode anime, menggenjreng gitar dan bernyanyi sumbang.

Aku tak bisa tidur, keluhku pada teman-temanku. Tapi aku pernah berada dalam keadaan seperti ini, beberapa bulan lalu, beberapa tahun lalu. Aku pikir aku pernah menceritakan hal ini di dalam blog. Beberapa minggu penuh ketidakjelasan waktu tidur, dan entah bagaimana lingkaran setan itu berakhir, terlupakan begitu saja. Aku tak pernah ingat kapan siklus kebobrokan jadwal tidur ini dimulai, dan kapan ia tiba-tiba berakhir. Yang jelas saat ini aku sedang berada di dalamnya.

Aku tahu kenapa aku tidak bisa tidur. Aku tahu aku tidak bisa tidur karena aku terlalu banyak memikirkan hal yang tidak dapat kukendalikan, terlalu banyak memikirkan hal yang dapat kukendalikan namun tidak kulakukan, terlalu banyak berpikir, itu yang jelas. Aku tidak bisa menghentikan pikiran-pikiran akan hal-hal buruk yang telah terjadi padaku, pikiran-pikiran seandainya aku melakukan hal yang berbeda dulu, pikiran-pikiran di mana aku dapat menjadi pribadi yang lebih baik dibanding sekarang seandainya dulu aku melakukan hal yang berbeda.

The redundancy of overthinking.

Aku tahu kenapa aku tidak bisa tidur. Aku tidak bisa tidur karena romantisasi insomnia. Aku suka memberitahu kalian kalau aku tidak bisa tidur malam. Aku nocturnal. Aku spesial, aku tidak fungsional, aku aneh. Aku mendengarkan daftar putar lo-fi hiphop dengan ambience midnight karena terdengar keren. Aku membayangkan diriku seperti protagonis dalam cerita Haruki Murakami, menjelajah dinginnya malam dengan jaket dan syal, mendengarkan musik dari iPodnya, mendatangi kafe 24 jam untuk membaca buku dan menyeruput cappuccino panas sembari menghindari kenyataan hidup dan berteman dengan krisis eksistensial.

Aku akan terbangun esok hari pukul 2 siang, menuang diriku semangkuk corn flakes dan segelas teh stroberi, kemudian bertanya-tanya apakah malam tanpa tidur ini akan terulang lagi esok hari. Tanpa tempat untuk dituju, tanpa hal untuk dilakukan, mempertanyakan hal-hal yang tidak penting sangatlah mudah. The privilege of being idle.

Apa kisahmu malam ini, kawan?

You'll Float Too.

I'm floating.

The sky is clear blue. Birds are chirping, thick white clouds hanging around, and I'm still floating. I can't recall the last time I put my feet on the grounds below. View is pleasant up here, and traffic is non-existent. Just like my life.

I've had friends down below, although I'm alone up here. Friends are the only thing that keep me down there. I'll float forever if I don't have them.

Pita was nice. She gave me food and let me stay in her house for a week, but when she got a boyfriend I was kicked out immediately. Her boyfriend didn't want a stranger like me taking advantage of her kind nature. I floated away and wrote Pita a goodbye letter.

Jack was a big fan of music. We met in front of a records store. As we became friends he let me hang out at his place and listen to his collection. Sometimes he invited me to listen to his band playing. He didn't let me stay too long, though. After a few weeks I floated away. I drew a fanart of his favorite album and sent it to him before I left.

Mira was different. She was quiet. So I stayed quiet too. She fidgeted. I stared. I didn't know what was wrong with me, or her. She liked going to a neighborhood cafe and stayed there for hours. She would bring books, or sometimes her laptop. Typing, typing away when she was not reading. She liked that coffee with cinnamon in it... she called it cappuccino, I think?
She bought me a cup of tea. We didn't spoke much, but it felt like home. For some reason, though, one day she just disappeared from the cafe. From the neighborhood. I heard things like she was being taken away by her family to marry some guy. What's a forced marriage? I didn't know what to do, so I floated. I still wonder how cappuccino tastes and what a forced marriage is.

Jon was famous, but not that famous. I found him in a minimarket, and he bought me a sportsdrink. He was an endorser, whatever that meant, so it was practically free for him. After he bought me that drink, a few people crowded around him asking for selfies, whatever that meant. One of them asked me to take their pictures. After they were done, Jon left. I drank the whole bottle and floated away. The man in side the minimarket yelled at me for littering, whatever that meant.

I'm still floating. The sky is turning darker. Sunlight isn't as hot as it was a few moments ago. I look down, searching for shelter. Below is just a neighborhood; all occupied house. I decide to flow downwards, and end up in front of a small store. The thunder starts.

Nick's his name. He's also stuck in the rain. He doesn't talk much, just like Mira. He plays with his phone, and fiddles with his helmet. I stare. I look at the sky.

Oh how I wish to float right now.