katamu, aku hanya butuh percaya.
katamu, aku tak perlu menyita waktuku dengan adanya kamu di tiap detikku.
katamu, aku pun sudah fasih memahami isi kepalamu.
dan, ya, aku memilih untuk percaya.

nyatanya, tidak semudah bak sang matahari yang rela menyembunyikan teriknya sepanjang malam untuk memikat sang bulan.
kamu hanya tidak tahu seberapa dalam lukaku, kemarin.
kamu hanya tidak tahu seberapa besar rasa sakitku, hingga saat ini.

entah bagaimana,
entah karena apa,
terbesit oleh pikirmu untuk melakukan itu.

apa ini karenaku?
atau memang suratan takdir untukku?
bagaimana dengan semua katamu?
bagaimana dengan semua percayaku?
semukah?

Tiga musim berturut-turut aku berupaya keras menggila
Di saat kewarasanku sedang ambruk
Pada saat yang sama aku tidak tahu apakah kau sadar bahwa aku sedang merasa
Atau jangan-jangan kau memang tidak pernah memerdulikannya
Sedikit banyak aku berharap semoga kau tidak perlu membaca ini
Jika iya, artinya aku sudah tiada di sini

Meskipun aku harus melihatmu mengenakan kaus hitam dengan rambut sepanjang itu—tentunya aku tak tahu bahwa rambutmu bisa tumbuh sepanjang itu
Dengan bunga berwarna kuning di telinga
Kau nampak seperti orang asing di mataku dan itu membawa ketersengsaraan sendiri
Suara-suara teriakan temanmu yang membuatku tertunduk layu
Semoga kau sadar bahwa—ya, aku keliru, tapi bukan itu harapanku
Aku tak pernah berburu air mata
Cacatnya tindak-tanduk
Dambaan-dambaan fana
Janjimu menjadi cerminan bahwa semuanya tak semestinya terjadi
Jika ya, artinya kau sudah tiada di sini

Mengenai ibuku—kau tahu dia tak paham bahasa tubuhku
Tak paham raut lukaku
Untuk perundingan hening pada pagi buta lain nya
Sepertinya kita terbiasa mengemasi firasat
Untuk senyuman tanpa arti dan tangisan tanpa rupa yang masih saja dipertimbangkan
Akankah kau halang aku untuk menghembus telapak kaki nya?
Jika ya, artinya aku sudah tiada di sini

Si Manis, yang tutur kata nya lembut
Namun siap untuk memecahkan piring makan kesukaanmu
Ruam pada tubuhmu
Bukan salahmu
Masihkah kau berdiam mematung?
Untuk anjing-anjing yang terus kau rawat
Noda pada kamar mandi yang kau bersihkan
Dan kaki-kaki yang kau pijat
Jika ya, artinya kau sudah tiada di sini

pasal II; tentang luka, patah hati, dan rasa sakit yang sangat.

- pada sebuah masa yang kelak mungkin saja akan terjadi, dan ketika waktunya tiba, kau mungkin akan mendapatiku terkungkung dalam kesendirian, dan luka patah hati yang teramat sakit; dan kuharap, kau akan datang, lalu ada, dan bersedia menyebuhkan lukaku.

- dan bila nanti kemudian kaulah sebagai pelipur laraku, kuharap kau bukanlah orang yang kembali menoreh luka, setelah mekarnya bunga senyum di wajahku; dan bunga yang indah, hanya akan tumbuh anggun ditempat yang tepat. kuharap kau mengerti.

- ada sebuah kemungkinan, yang tentu saja berpeluang, bahwa kau akan datang bukan sebagai penyembuh, melainkan seseorang yang mungkin saja datang untuk mengiris sembilu, lalu kemudian pergi tanpa malu; mengingat kau juga sama seperti dia, membuatku jatuh hati, hanya saja kau lupa untuk menangkapku kembali.

- bila di kemudian hari, nyatanya kaulah penyebab utama dalam rasa sakit ini, kuharap kau tau, antara ingin bersabar atau saja melepasmu kemudian, beratnya sama berat; terutama jika kau, sebagai orang yang awalnya datang sbagai penyembuh. kuharap kau mengerti.

prdks.

Aku berharap
Tak pernah bertegur sapa denganmu
Tak pernah menatap wajahmu
Tak pernah menikmati rintik hujan bersamamu

Aku berharap
Tak pernah melihat senyummu
Tak pernah mencium wangi rambutmu
Tak pernah mendengar suaramu memanggil namaku

Aku berharap
Tak pernah menceritakan masa laluku
dan menanyakan masa lalumu
Tak pernah membagi malamku dan mendengarkan kisahmu

Aku berharap
Tak pernah tersenyum untukmu
Tak pernah memimpikanmu
Tak pernah berharap kau akan menyembuhkan lukaku

left home at 10am: came back home at 10pm...
at Romford ordered 6 spicy chicken wings
for £3... ate them with such a relish
perhaps even some relief... didn't eat anything
since 12pm...
i felt relieved to be eating something when
truly hungry... i think that's important:
eating something when you're truly hungry:
reliving ancient days when a man would
have to hunt...
                        like Socrates "said":
some people live to eat...
                                  while others eat to live...
i'm persuaded by the latter category:
everything tastes all the better...
    i'm not talking about starving... i'm talking
fasting...

the best atmosphere at Wembley so far...
     Nottingham Forest vs. Huddersfield...
the most pleasant crowd so far...
no one really running into me and trying to
hug me while at the same time bruising me
from all the joy... over such trivial matters...
then again... people invest years and years
into watching soap operas on t.v.
Forest's sitcom "suspended sentence" has been
running for 23 years after being relegated
to the lesser league... i was actually chatting
to this colt about: how he wasn't even born
when Forest was a high-flying football club...

fist bumping: 'i want your children'...
getting candy from a lady after i helped her out
to get a cleaner to clean the pigeon ****
off her seat... blah blah...
full smile one: genuine...
     i already have the silver linings:
smile wrinkles under around my eyes...
and grey hair making a conquest
around my sideburns... i really am 36...
i feel like i'm 36 years old...
it feels good to be 36 years old...
this confident and at the same this reserved:

it's a good thing i visited the brothel
and sat there, in the waiting room... intimidated
by about 10 prostitutes... asking all of them to choose
being told by one: you can't do that!
then telling the one that told me that:
oh, fair enough... you'll do... since you're the mouthy one...

i ate my six spicy chicken wings:
no point getting a meal with chips...
the ratio of meat to batter on those wings sort
of counters the point of having chips...
smoked a cigarette in the fresh air... ah...

back to the stadium...
     a lot of young boys making makeshift
paper aeroplanes from paper left on every seat
for the opening ceremony...
i was thinking: what if someone was
to randomly turn around and that paper aeroplane
would hit them in the eye?
no matter... the boys were having fun...

people trying to bring alcohol and drink it in view
of the pitch... body language took over:
i just insinuated... and i was obeyed...
talk about owning a dog but not owning
a leash... i'd love to own a dog like i might be a cat:
i can' imagine stressing a cat with either
accessory of a leash or a muzzle...
so why would i do that to a dog?
i see foxes freely roaming... i couldn't...

more hugs, handshakes, fist-bumps...
for some reason... stroking the new lucky charm
of Nottingham Forest: an inflatable banana...
funny, that... my nickname at university
was BANAN... because i once wore
the Velvet Underground t-shirt to a party...

i was stroking the inflatable banana for good luck...
everyone managed to get the joke...
it's good... to find oneself in / with appeal
among a crowd of strangers...
in the moment? they're better than friends...
everything remains puddle deep...
it's veneer but at the same time it's not veneer...

only racial minorities will continue to complain
about the English (people)...
but... being a good judge of character...
i was supposed to be paired up...
i ended up doing most of the shift on my own...
because some copper-neck was slacking...
every time some **** hit the fan he would
come across as too authoritative...
or he would disappear...

it's not a judge of "colour"...
that's the descriptive element of MY language...
one excuse after another...
i was supposed to be giving the benefit of the doubt
to a slacker...
   my supervisor... beyond copper-neck
excused him with the words: oh... benefit of the doubt...
he's just work shy... work shy? work shy?!
lazy... but not lazy enough to
    climb up the tree and try the arithmetic of
straightening bananas, no?!

i don't need an extra hassle if i can do this job
by myself...

"we" reached a sentimental zenith with this one
guy, i.e. me and him... about old Wembley...
how i managed to see the 1995 charity shield
match between Manchester United and Newcastle...
how i was doing my job...
because i kindly pointed him to a slot on the wall...
some 1985 Act about not drinking in view
of the pitch... at a football event...

and he came back at me: it's people like you
that make... my first time at Wembley...
so special... you're just doing your job...
   i'm perfecting my orientation: i just give off
body language cues... i'm not going to shout...
i make that suggestion of: being placed
before the guillotine... cut-it-out...
even a deaf person could understand me:
i extend my fingers... and make a cutting motion
across my neck... moving my hand right to left...

that helps...
   no... my father: i was a roofer too, once upon a time...
wouldn't call it work... managing a crowd is
not really work... once you're left in a trench
of dealing with inanimate things that always:
always obey your every whim is work...
but dealing with people is never work...

fair enough... what a lovely day...
   it's Wembley and i love taking the Metropolitan Line
from Wembley Park to Liverpool St.,
mind you... come Wednesday i do hope that
that coming Jubilee will ensure the major night tube lines
will be open... i dread taking the night buses home
even thought the Argentina vs. Italy match is supposed
to finish at around 10:30pm....

hell... i don't care if i'm being underpaid...
i don't think i am... i'm getting paid to "work"
while other people pay... circa £100 for a seat...
stroking an inflatable banana for good luck:
it's going to become a Nottingham Forest gimmick:
a good luck charm...
i'm feeling it... Nottingham Forest & bananas...

in that kind of scenario i was genuinely for them
winning against Huddersfield...
why? well... on the way in i heard rumours
that Nottingham Forest only got promoted
on penalty shoot-outs...
i needed a 90min closure... if it wasn't
a 90min closure... i would have left at...
perhaps 10pm... got home at 12am...
   obviously i was supporting the Nottingham crowd...
i even took a "break" 10 minutes from the end
to share in their drama enthusiasm of a supporter...

another thing? you notice it...
just before the match...
i stood with my arms folded behind my back...
"lip-reading": i couldn't sing...
the national anthem...
   people notice that...
          i'm not "one of them": but i am "one of them"...
she's still my Queenie...
only racial minorities have a problem
with the English...
i don't have a problem with the English...
i think the English people are spectacular people...

i made a mistake of studying in Scotland-Sock-Land...
i should have studied in Liverpool...
Newcastle... why is it that the further up you go
the women are friendlier and prettier?!
more Norse genes?!

why am i writing about work?
nothing interesting is happening in the idea department
of my 'ead...
   literally... nothing...
only today i thought: it would be worthwhile to read
a book... rather than a newspaper...
this book has ben bugging me for some time...

thank god i don't have the Latin original...
it's all in English...
Ovid's ****** Poems...
i don't do chapters... esp. not when commuting...
and to intimidate the possible onlookers...
my book-note?
   a 100 rouble banknote...
    yay! "Ukraine"...
                              really?
                i really don't care about Ukraine...
why would i give a **** about Ukraine...
if Ukraine will not give Lvov back to the original
architects of the city?!

i'm seriously not the man who heard a choir
in an empty church and a great wind
that subsequently dispersed it back in 2007...
i'm the guy with... Nik Kershaw's
wouldn't it be good playing on repeat in my head...
on silent mode...

nothing truly beats ancient Roman poets...
i'm reliving an experience that was originally intended
to remain stale... moulded... gathering dust on
my shelf... i've owned a book by Ovid for...
when awake? you count donkeys...
when trying to stay awake: you count donkeys...
sure... then trying to fall asleep you count sheep:
imitation clouds...
but Ovid... Ovid was always going to surpass
my esteem for either Virgil and Horace...
Ovid was always going to cut the argument short...

like today... two guys were adamant on an argument...
Hazard or Salah...
i was asked the question when the shift ended...
Hazard or Salah?
my reply? Hazard... when he played for Chelsea...
hands down...
what team do you support? West Ham...
  see! see! the response came! what bias?!
a West Ham supporter can't support anything good
about Chelsea! just because these guys haven't
seen Hazard in his prime at Real Madrid...

             it's true... Hazard at Chelsea...
Lukaku at Inter Milan...
              you think that Haaland and City is
a match-made-in-heaven?
   i doubt it...
        some players should just stick to the atmosphere...
Mark Noble at West Ham...
Steven Gerrard at Liverpool...
        you can't just transfer someone's soul
from one body to another like you: "supposedly" can
in the Hindu concept of reincarnation...
no!
              e.g.? the Watkin's Tower makes a lot of sense...
since... the prime icons of London are hardly
reminding anyone that this construction
exists... because: competition with Paris' Eiffel
suffocated the idea into a: misnomer of: ooh!
icon of architecture!
it isn't...
                   the "idea" concerning the architecture
of the tower of Eiffel in Paris worked...
Watkin's Tower is hardly central...
what has London have? pseudo-communist
Barbican: as the saying goes...

either you are happy with what you have...
or you have what you are happy with...

London is not a ******* cliche Las Vegas...
sure... sure... lodge a ******* pseudo-Eiffel
next to St. Paul's cathedral and
let's rewrite Handel's Messiah with
some dub-step DROP interludes...

******* overshadowing pyramid-height chasers...

****'s sake... i can see the Watkin's Tower
from Mashiters Hill... or... wait...
was that from a roof at one of the office blocks...
near St. Paul's... the Scottish Widows' HQ
when i joked: isn't that... the Eiffel?

it's that genius of Ovid's observations...
about touching one's ear lobes to provide evidence
of disinterest...
while at the same time: oh modern optics...
back in the elder times... perhaps fiddling
with one's ring on one's ring finger was a sign
of approval... but lately i've noticed that women
place a ring on either their index or *******:
as if implying:
i do not require to be wed...
    a ring placed on the index or *******:
a ring placed on the *******?!
*******! marriage! *******: pair-bonding!
let's make the nobility of swans extinct!
and on the index... who knows?!

i yawn at the football match,
concentrating my attention on the crowd...
i murmur the national anthem of:
god save the queen and i spot an alliance...
someone in the crowd feels "secure" that i'm murmuring
alongside them a pride:
not a homosexual pride... just an outright...
as i fiddle with my fu manchu...

   and my... competing love-patch in length...
blonde... competing in length with my beard's length...
like some ancient Cossack...

the Slavic proverb stands solid:

wenn unter krähen: du krächzen wie sie!
when among crows: you croak like them!

i find myself very accommodating...
when it's required...

i need no "other" place to visit... i need to become
more of a spider and weave more of my web
and strangle the topography of London
to my demands... of the commute...
       as much as i'd love to escape to the Faroe Islands...
i don't think i could ever leave London
behind... as much as i loved Edinburgh on first
impressions... i could leave Edinburgh...
i don't think i could ever leave London...
seeing it morph: diverge: grow...
                        i don't think i could ever leave
London...
Loon-doon...
          
die ganze welt ist hier! pfauen ihre sprachen!
the whole world is here! peacocking their languages!
while i come with my toy-zeppelins!
während ich kommen sie mit mein
spielzeugzeppeline!