by Sasmito Yudha Husada



From roof to roof and door to door. My one dusty suitcase was the only thing I kept around. I convinced myself that I never felt lacking at all. Rejoicing at the good nature of my fellow men; reciprocal altruism at its best. Granted, sometimes circumstances refused to be on my team. Those were the nauseating nights when I cringed at my reflections and thought, “Parasite.” But in the grand scale of my quiet hell, I pranced as if it were a warm, friendly summer.

Rumors roared, that I lived in terror. In my hands, a suitcase. On my back, a cosmic despair. Waltzing around in the narrow circle of my thoughts. As narrow as what will be laid down to me for the structural collapse in times ahead. As wide as the space between commuters’ dreams in a train car at rush hour.

There was not a thing to deny. I dare not to claim that I knew myself better than them. It is not seldom, that people breathe their life in such ignorance, yet are able to ace some of their goals. My sole remaining goal was neither intricate nor anything fancy. I wanted to die alone and free. Uninvolved in politics, religions, and movements. Coupled with old age and a dozen bodily inconveniences, the end seemed so near. Yet, there was always a reason for the reaper to postpone his blessing; what had happened in the past, came back on the stage with a blast. I couldn’t block their noise assaulting my ears.

The stories of my extended family members were neat and humble. They consist of cushioned happiness, wrapped up in conservative fashion. One of their customs was to apply for government jobs. I had failed to avoid such a fate; since graduating from middle school, I already had a government collar on my neck; it was my parents’ decision for me to enroll in a state funded scholarship. That didn’t last long. Eventually, I fell into a disaster. Everything changed. The curse started to unfold when the government sent me back to uni for another scholarship after a few years of work.

We often went to a park not far from campus; feasting on flattened meatball dish. I was the freshman among them, though not exactly the youngest. They also regarded me as the most endowed because I was subsidized by the state. It was not surprising that they often asked me to pay for their food.

One day, after I paid the flattened meatballs, the most senior student among us put his palms on my shoulders and stared at me. His eyes wandered for a while before he tightened his grip. It hurt me. The thick moustache on his lips convulsed as he whispered, “Fall. Flat.”

As I went deeper into their world, the reasons for their extended stay in college unveiled. Those images of them in class, slouching at their desks with blackened eyes and dripping saliva, were replaced with images of fire. Their fiery enthusiasm made me curl into a ball. I feared passion. In the steps I have taken in life, it is my principle to doubt anything that is imbued with such fervor. Enthusiasm blinds people, and it dies quickly. Yet, I decided to walk deeper. Not out of passion. I had to know!

The world was changing in a swift manner. The Pirate Party that I once thought as mere satire, conquered the Scandinavian politics. Meanwhile in North America, an unlikely television show figure managed to put his ass on the throne. Surrounded by armed conflicts, people of Kurdistan decided to abandon the state; forming their own direct democracy. These fueled my colleagues into frenzy. They accelerated our projects in hasty manner. Such speed must be paid with the fact that cautionary milestones were skipped.

As far as my petty senses could absorb, our movement had never indulged in violence nor any evil deeds. We were just trying to hop on the train of technological advancement to realize our vision for the future. Said future will involve the replacement of current government structures with automated systems steered with efficient and effective AIs. But before major changes could be implemented, our struggles were halted by the rise of a bigoted regime. They wiped out any form of organizations they thought as a threat; including us.

I was clever enough to put some distance and safety measures the whole time that I was able to clean my hands and escape a cruel fate. But I was already deep enough that I failed to avoid guilt and pain from the fact that my friends were kidnapped, tortured, jailed, and have their lives transmogrified by the state. At nights they visited my slumber and I drowned in their moans and groans. During the days my mind turned into something akin to nuclear warfare between grotesque abominations; most of the participants though, decided that I was not supposed to be free, that I didn’t deserve it. Torrent of torments built up. I destroyed things that were not my own. Anger engulfed my guts all the time. I choked my boss into coma and lost my job. I sold all my assets and moved. I hid in remote places until I was stable enough to start over.

I clung to life between hope and despair. Many times I thought I had those moments of clarity. But changes never actually happened in an instant. I realized I had to work; slowly. Crashed, and burnt, tried again, and burnt again; I screamed the whole time. In a place of unknown people and language, I suffered two failed marriages and multiple bankruptcies. I was only able to build a home for my descendants in my third marriage. But I had to leave all that when I found out something about my great grandchildren. They were involved in flames that devoured my old friends.

It happened on my stargazing schedule. The night was clear. Atop a mini-tower I built on my backyard, I was feasting upon the flirtatious sky-dandruffs. That was the time when my ears captured the growl of choppers. I adjusted my telescope and saw them coming. I recognized the symbol on their fronts.

I killed my cigar and kissed my telescope. I hurried down and got inside my house. I took only my suitcase. I was ready to leave everything else behind. But my pace wasn’t quick enough. I shut down my emotions when I walked past those kids in the living room. My steps were bold and sure, as if I didn’t hear their words: MONSTER, THIEF, ABOMINATION. Yet before I closed the door, several of them kneeled, grabbed, and kissed my boots; begging me to come with them.


The reign of such a bigoted regime wouldn’t be free from international scrutiny. Soon after its rising to hegemony, various acts of resistance and international interventions decided to chime in. Exploiting the opportunities, many allies of past projects of my old movements resurfaced and regrouped. I had been a part of either the violent oppositions or the diplomatic efforts. The nations broke apart. People were desperate for orders. We grabbed our chance to install our massive automation systems. People didn’t like it at first. But it worked out.

People lived in a just and politician-free society guided by our intelligent systems. Our artificial intelligences were able to adapt and develop its connected infrastructures according to the needs of the people it served. But it didn’t last long. Many nations were outright hysterical by such blasphemy. Many of those nations that once had opposed the bigoted regime, now assault us from every directions. Under such a threat of defeat, I decided to save the system with my own method. At least that’s what I told myself at the time.


“It’s hard to believe really. That this wasteland, wherever I set my gaze upon, is not, the end of things” I mumbled to myself, looking through a cracked and dusty window.

She told me, “This wasteland is actually healing. With the hands of our allies’ new systems, people are surviving and thriving in the world charred by the war waged before.”

In this very train route I was on, I used to commute back and forth every day to work. It was always crowded and hard to breathe and even sometimes gave me cramps. I guess the current population wouldn’t make any train nowadays overcrowded.

I sat there embracing my one and only suitcase. The sun already set and I needed charges. A cable plugged to a terminal hidden at my armpit was connected to the suitcase. A girl sat before me. She was wrapped in white latex, shaking her head. She scratched her head with the barrel of a gravity gun on her hand.

“Do you have any clue regarding why they let you get this far in life?”

She tilted her head closer. Her exhaled carbon monoxide reached the tip of my olfactory sensor. I grinned. She was nervous. She blinked fast. Sweat flooded her eyes because she had neither brows nor lashes.

I chuckled and tried to answer her.

“It isn’t hard for me to deem that everything was in vain. There was greed indeed in what I did. I wanted to be essential. Important. I wanted to be the key. But I was eventually too afraid to do shit, and so, I hid. I hid as flames burned civilizations to the ground.”

The train suffered a heavy turbulence. I sat, still supported by my iron grip to the nearest bar. Meanwhile, the girl fell. I smirked and helped her back up and continued my words.

“My old flesh wasn’t up to the task. Such a fragile complex of tissues wouldn’t handle the overload with mere basic augmentations to support it. I convinced myself I needed more. I craved crazier and more comprehensive parts. So, as time walked past me, the thing that used to be alien and strange, slowly took over the wheel. I never felt enough. I tried to fight the urge, but failed for most of the time. I was impulsively replacing my flesh for machines over several decades and counting. But I’m still myself, am I right?”

“You didn’t. No. Crap. This doesn’t make sense. It wasn’t programmed to act that way. Granted, I was informed it had the capability to learn and adapt to accommodate the dynamics of society it intended to serve. But nothing invasive would ever be permitted by the measures put in place. Such a loophole would put the fate of the people at risk.”

“Don’t blame me. I was not involved in its code development. But I admit the possibility that it was all probably just my insanity at fault. You know, the consequences of overwhelming loads on my augs. Imagine, a system designed for national scale compressed and crammed into my petty augmentations! No matter what, it was indeed my fault. With all the just and goody-goody stuff lies, I persuaded myself to commit that act. It was greed. It was a very human thing to do. A thing done by a person fraught with weakness. I desired its computational feats, its analytic and extrapolative performance. Yet, I was never sure whether or not I ever got what I wanted. Yes, I had built several giant entrepreneurial feats over the decades, but was it actually just me? Or it? I don’t know. I’m feeling blind, lost, and cornered inside my own self. I wanted to die, but I couldn’t.”

The train stopped with a quake. The girl didn’t fall this time. She held on to me. She showed her metallic teeth at me.

“They let you be. They even protected you. They thought the system could learn from you. It could learn all your inner algorithms as a human. They wish to see it grows in its capacity to understand and govern humans. Come, let’s get off this train and see your throne. You and it, shall replace the tentative system. Perhaps, for the rest of your life.”

“Why am I being involved also?”

“Are you kidding? You can see this as your punishment. Justice has to be served. To be honest, the majority of us already thought of you as a non-human.”



Review: Foundation and Empire

The clash against the Empire was inevitable. The Foundation was small but more advanced, while the Empire was massive as fuck. This conflict though, seem to me, only served as introduction to show the extent of Hari Seldon’s psychohistory; the people of the Foundation really put much faith in it. Such reliance on “scientific” prophecy made them arrogant and complacent. The Foundation grew too big and began to possess some traits of ugly bureaucracy they once opposed.

Bayta, a female character in the story said:

“It’s almost a century since the last one, and in that century, every vice of the Empire has been repeated in the Foundation. Inertia! Our ruling class knows one law: no change. Despotism! They know one rule: force. Maldistribution! They know one desire: to hold what is theirs.”

Then came the Mule. A terrifying opponent. He’s a mutant with an ability to affect emotions. This factor introduced an alien variable outside the psychohistory’s equation. When the holographic form of Hari Seldon re-appeared, the crises he described was different. Everyone shocked and panicked. They didn’t expect this. Their faith betrayed them. Soon after that, the Mule amassed tremendous power. World by world fell to his dominion. Allies turned and converted. The main characters fled here and there in desperation to avoid peril while also trying to find a solution. What’s the key to stop this powerful mutant? Even the great Hari Seldon didn’t foresee this.

This second book of the trilogy is more story based compared with the first book. Foundation and Empire has more focus on how people would struggle in what seemed like a comfortable predictable world against something alien, while the first book was more about how the Foundation survived by adapting its shape to the organic contraction of history. Of course I prefer the first book, but Foundation and Emperor is still a very interesting read and may or may not lay a solid basis for the next book I’ll read after this.

The Foolish Dabbler’s Mind

I get it. Now let me try to examine it further; there’s a big chance that either my observations or my conclusions are wrong. So, if you want to help also, that would be great. This is it:

1. The Problem:
There are great dabblers, and there are foolish dabblers. Myself, unfortunately, is included in the foolish kind of dabblers. Some great dabblers are not merely novelty seeking, they actually acquired relatively competent skills. These are the ones we can call “Jack of all trade”; while I’m merely a “JOKE of all trade” that I myself laugh at.

2. The Cause:
It’s been a tiny dull pain at the back of my mind for quite a while. But turned vivid enough this afternoon. I was bored at the office, so I browsed some kind of web developer introduction materials. The site led me to a post [] that illustrated the phase of difficulties in code learning.


Take a look at the chart I stole from the post. See the “hand-holding honeymoon” phase? It’s where the foolish dabblers –including me– give up. Example, I tried to learn X, Y, and Z kinds of stuff; they’re cool and I felt great, because there are many easy beginner resources to consume and to delude myself that I was knowledgeable about it, then, before I even get to the “cliff of confusion” phase, I stopped, only to switch into another beginner’s “hand-holding honeymoon” phase. This leads to a very tiny amount of competence acquisitions, that, of course, would soon dwindle; dried empty before they even turned into any useful or applicable skills. A waste of time and resources. But then, the mind is a selfish lawyer, it would, of course, provide several justifications including:

a. Because time and resources are limited, I need to evaluate first, whether such things I tried to learn is worthy of pursuit or not.
b. I don’t need mastery over these skills. I merely seek transcendental patterns.
c. They’re just for recreation. Never meant to be a precious thing. Only as worth as much as foods or beverages or vacations.
d. Etc, etc, etc, the selfish soft stuff behind the skull just keep on yapping!

To address these perverse justifications, one need to see the fog-covered-truth at what really happened in their own fucking brain. In my case, it was really awful. A shameful attempt at vanity to pretend that I’m a “learner”, that I get kicks from “learning”; while it’s not entirely false, the greater part of it is obviously social signalling. I did not really evaluate the skills I failed into worthy or not worthy, in truth, I’d really love to be good at them, and while I also want to catch any possible transcendental patterns, I also want to master them, hence they’re precious and not only for recreations, yet, despite this, the foolish pleasure at every beginning phase of learning, pushed me to overlook, to abandon them in one fell swoop.

Let’s take a look again at the chart. I suspect, that there are people who can and who cannot sense and prepare when the “cliff of confusion” would begin. I couldn’t, I can’t, hence the overwhelming fear of facing the truth of my incompetence that leads to early resignation.

It’s not that before I read the post I didn’t know that learning is hard. It’s just, uh, I was and still am too good at ignoring the obvious logic of the problem. The post helped it getting more vivid. And I think it still should be more more more vivid, umm, like a thunderous slap at the cheeks of my butt. But, hehe, that wouldn’t work as effective as it should be to a mental flagellant like me.

3. The Conclusion
It’s one thing to state the problem and another thing to solve them. Fuck. I’m not sure what to write. Let’s see, to make things practical and applicable, I tried to “reserve” a year dedicated to one thing. I abandoned an environment to remove potential distractions; I practically put myself into some kind of exile. BUT I FUCKING FAILED. Which is why I prolonged that one year into two. I FAILED AGAIN. I’d love to just conclude that I can’t, but I won’t.

There is a chance (which I hope is not the truth) that I don’t really get kicks from learning. And perhaps, I get kicks not only from every beginner’s thrill but also from the image I constructed from multiple failings, since “failure is the road to success” is a concept that often thrown around.


There are genuine failures from trying the best and there are meaningless failures from early self-sabotages. These meaningless failures are like pretending to quit at the edge of “dessert of despair” phase when you actually quit only when you’re still at the “hand-holding honeymoon” phase. What a dumbfuck coward; keep moving forward to reach the true despair!

Meh, enough of this useless thoughts. I want to get back into playing Darkest Dungeon and watch my heroes suffer from afflictions.

Review: All the Birds in the Sky

Beautiful, effortless, and calm. Like two rivers merged into a lake, where rainbows came for naps; only showing its magical strength when the time was ripe.


The book started like a story for children. Simple, but entertaining enough to reel me further. It started with each protagonist’s struggle against their own family. As they grew older, the number of their oppositions increased; schoolmate bullies. Laurence and Patricia sought an ally and found it in each other. They tried their best to help and comfort for each other, but life’s a mess, and both of them were little children. It got worse when an assassin decided to be involved in the growing resentment between their messed up alliance. They separated for quite a long time and had the chance to cultivate their own gift; Laurence’s mind for science and engineering and Patricia’s heart for healing and trickster magic. Their path eventually crossed, only to be separated again.  The rest was constant struggle against everything, and against each other, and against their own selves. Magic and science entwined; talking birds and tree, wormhole and time machine; struck each other violently because of fear, but there were also kisses because of love.

The first half of the story most comprised of ordinary slice of life events, except the quirks put here and there like, the talking animals and the two-seconds time machine. The book didn’t need to throw big things at my face. It’s pretty calm yet rewarding. That’s why it felt effortless to me. I got to know the characters in slow and intimate pace. The second half was when the lightning began to dance. They were so close yet so far, near but pulled apart. Super storm happened. War waged across the land. Doomsday machine. The unravelling. Parents and friends died. Fear. Fear. Fear. An oath got broken in order to save the dearest one. The story ended a bit weird. Not as satisfying as I would prefer it to be, but not bad.


Pengalaman Lari di Sibayak Altitude Run

Niat saya mendaftarkan diri pada Sibayak Altitude Run sebenarnya adalah untuk membangkitkan kembali motivasi lari yang sedang turun-turunnya. Namun ternyata sama aja. Masih dilanda kemalasan luar biasa. Masih payah. Sampai hari-h pun saya belum sempat melaksanakan satu long run yang cukup sama sekali. Waktu acara? Keteteran. Saya peserta yang finish terakhir. Paling belakang.


Begini kronologis ceritanya:


  1. Perjalanan awal.


Bersama seorang rekan kerja serumah dinas yang hendak pulang cuti, saya berangkat menuju Medan. Di pesawat sempat terjadi guncangan. Saya ketakutan, lalu meringkuk ke perutnya. Saat itulah saya berpikir, mengapa saya takut mati, apa yang sesungguhnya saya takutkan? Segala pemikiran yang belum tersampaikan, atau minimal tertuliskan; yang tertunda, yang terlupa, dan yang belum matang; saya tidak rela. Oke. Mungkin memang sudah panggilannya; selalu ingin kembali menulis lebih banyak, apapun wujudnya.



  1. Pisah di Medan.


Teman saya lanjut menuju Palembang untuk menghadiri acara pesta pernikahan seorang teman. Sementara saya, memuaskan diri melahap waffle sebelum kemudian buru-buru menemui pihak panitia yang menjemput. Panitia yang menjemput saya protes, karena saya tidak memakai kaca mata hitam seperti yang saya bilang di telepon. Lho,tapi framenya hitam kok. Lagipula, lensanya nanti hitam kalau kena sinar matahari.



  1. Menuju Sibayak.


Masuk ke Mobil. Saya disambut oleh penumpang lain yang kemudian diketahui ternyata adalah seorang jurnalis majalah olah raga. Ia sibuk dengan gadgetnya, saya asik membaca Foundation Trilogy. Lalu mobil bergerak menjemput satu orang lagi di Medan, peserta juga. Jalanan waktu itu macet cukup panjang. Kami memutar mengambil jalur alternatif. Di jalan saya mendengarkan obrolan menarik, yakni adanya doorsmeer plus-plus di daerah menuju Sibayak yang saat itu sedang kami lalui. Haha, jadi, itu maksudnya tempat cuci mobil yang supirnya juga sekalian “dicuci”. Obrolan sampai ke topik tersebut bermula dari respon pihak penjemput terhadap keinginan salah seorang dari kami untuk berhenti turun izin buang air kecil.



  1. Sampai di Sibayak.


Tepatnya di daerah pemandian air panas Ncole. Wah. Awkward. Saya malu. Saya minder. Belum kenal siapa-siapa. Bingung. Oh ya, ambil BIB dulu! Begitulah, lalu, bersama seorang peserta lain, saya mengambil racepack lalu melanjutkan proses administrasi. Setelahnya kami duduk-duduk di samping kolam pemandian air panas, berbincang-bincang. Ia makan indomie rebus, lalu saya ditraktir teh hangat; terima kasih! Oh ya, kami juga foto-foto. Kemudian setelah mendapatkan kunci hotel, saya segera berangkat, bongkar barang bawaan, istirahat sebentar, lalu malam-malamnya saya kembali ke pemandian air panas itu sendirian; berendam. Fuah! Mantab.





  1. Sebelum Start.


Gila. Rasa khawatir telat bangun itu gak enak banget. Saya pasang alarm berlapis-lapis. Bangun lebih awal, yakni sekitar pukul tiga pagi. Namun itu terbangun karena mimpi buruk. Mimpi apa? MIMPI TELAT BANGUN. Hal ini persis banget terulang seperti saat-saat dulu saya hendak lari di Jakarta Marathon 2015. Justru karena kekhawatiran itulah tidur jadi terasa kurang dan tidak nyenyak. Setelah tersiksa bangun-tidur-bangun-tidur-bangun dalam kegelisahan mengerikan, saya putuskan untuk bersiap segera menuju ke tempat start.



Di sana belum ramai saat saya sampai. Saya duduk bengong, pusing, dan bingung. Takut juga. Apa saya mampu? Saya tidak bawa headlamp, hanya lampu senter genggam yang baterainya sudah mau mampus. Menjelang start, kami berkumpul. Angin bertiup dingin. Gelap. Gerimis.



  1. Mulai lari.


Saya start termasuk di barisan paling depan. Namun belum tiga langkah saya ambil, saya sudah diserbu orang bersalip-salipan di kanan kiri saya. Ngebut sekali mereka. Saya lari, mencoba mengejar, namun tetap menjaga pace sesuai batas aerobic saja sembari berulang-kali melirik penunjuk heartbeat di garmin. Gelap. Gelap. Gelap. Saya terpisah sendiri. Terlalu ke depan untuk pelari selambat saya. Terlalu lambat untuk sok buru-buru. Lalu ketika kemudian mulai masuk ke jalur hutan, saat itulah keraguan mulai terakumulasi menjadi beban di hati.



  1. Cek Poin Pertama.


Di hutan gelap sendirian, awalnya saya mampu mencari jalan. Memang dituntut untuk mampu mengira-ngira jalan, mencari jejak sepatu manusia di antara lumpur dan mencari penanda jalan entah di pohon, entah di batu, entah di mana. Tapi akhirnya saya berhenti di tempat karena betul-betul tidak tahu mesti ke mana. Lama saya menunggu, akhirnya datanglah dua pria berpakaian biru dari belakang. Mereka sangat baik dan mau melanjutkan perjalanan bersama saya. Kami sempat tersesat bersama-sama di hutan itu. Lampu senter sayapun sempat mati, beruntung ada headlamp mereka. Menanjak hutan terjal terus sampai akhirnya terang. Ketika pria di depan memperingatkan saya atas duri; saya teringat seorang teman yang dulu pernah lari trail di bogor hingga kepalanya sobek kena tanaman. Takut.

Mulai Meninggalkan Gelapnya Hutan


Keluar hutan, kami terus menanjak ke cek poin pertama. Saya sampai lebih dulu, lalu turun gunung sendirian di depan. Turunannya sangat licin. Saya tidak berani jalan. Hanya berani duduk merosot. Mengadu pantat dengan lumut dan batu. Saya bergerak dengan semangatnya karena masih begitu naif mencoba mengejar Cut Off Time; hal ini saya sesali. Karena kemudian saya tersasar. Terima kasih lagi kepada mereka, karena  mendengar sahutan mereka dari jauhlah saya sadar bahwa saya salah arah dan perlu lari naik kembali. Jadilah saya kemudian yang berada di belakang.



  1. Cek Poin Kedua.


Menanjak gunung lagi. Yah, setidaknya kali ini tidak melalui hutan-hutan lagi. Tapi tetap saja berat. Lebih tinggi pula. Saya kapok melesat sendirian lagi. Takut tersasar karena sok tahu. Jadilah kali ini saya ikut bergerak seiringan dengan dua orang lain lagi. Tepat sebelum puncak, ada jalur batu besar yang harus dipanjat; saya pikir tadinya saya tak mampu, namun setelah ditawari pertolongan, ternyata saya mampu naik sendiri. Woah, kok bisa ya, sayapun bingung; mungkin saya hanya takut. Ah, lupakan, yang penting sampai!


Makan Jeruk dan Nanas

Setelah sampai puncak dan mendapatkan gelang cek poin kedua, kami turun. Di bawah, kami menyempatkan diri makan jeruk dan nanas dan minum air pada water station yang disediakan panitia. Kemudian kami melesat terus. Pada jalur sebelumnya nyaris tidak bisa dibuat lari saking terjal dan licinnya. Barulah pada jalur ini kami bisa betul-betul lari macam di acara lomba lari.




  1. Cek Poin Ketiga


Jalanan turun. Kaki ini dipaksa untuk bergerak lebih cepat oleh gravitasi. Lutut menerima tekanan yang lebih kuat karenanya. Sakit! Serius. Kami terbawa momentum, lari terlalu cepat sampai kesulitan berhenti sendiri. Seorang peserta mencoba berhenti dengan meraih tanaman, tapi gagal, dan terpelanting jatuh. Katanya, kalau ada rekaman youtubenya, dia mau lihat. Tapi begitu diminta diulang lari lalu jatuh, ia tidak mau. Yeah, ngeri memang. Kamipun akhirnya bergerak pelan karena takut kesulitan berhenti kalau lari. Hahaha. Ternyata jalur menuju cek poin ketiga ini cukup panjang. Seorang dari kami lari duluan, saya dan seorang lagi mengekor di belakang. Sialnya, ternyata di jalur ini kami harus melewati hutan lagi.



Di sana saya terpeleset jatuh, kaki terbenam lumpur, dan paha kiri saya keram. Peserta lain itu membantu meluruskan kaki saya yang keram dan terbenam lumpur, kemudian saya beri tahu ia untuk pergi duluan saja. Begitulah, saya tergeletak sendirian tak bisa bergerak. Yah itulah hidup. Tapi setelah beristirahat sampai dirasa sembuh, saya segera maju lagi seperti pada lirik lagu Frank Sinatra yang berjudul That’s Life:

Each time I find myself lying flat on my face,

I just picked myself up and get back in the race!


Perjalanan hingga mencapai cek poin ketiga ini kurang menarik, kecuali saat saya harus terpaksa melalui jalan yang dijaga dua anjing besar yang semangat sekali menggonggong. Saya yang lelah hanya berjalan lunglai pasrah, melambat, membisu, sampai akhirnya mereka minggir dan saya berhasil lalu. Sampai di cek poin tiga, saya berhasil berkumpul kembali dengan dua peserta sebelumnya. Kamipun kemudian melanjutkan perjalanan bersama dengan lebih santai berdasarkan saran panitia yang menjaga cek poin ketiga. Saking lelahnya, setiap beberapa ratus meter kami duduk istirahat, bahkan sesekali berbaring di jalanan. Ada salah satu dari kami yang membawa Snickers yang kemudian dipatah dan dibagi tiga. Panitia-panitia, entah dengan mobil, entah dengan motor, berkali-kali menawarkan tumpangan agar kami segera diangkut ke finish. Namun kami dengan keras kepala menolak.


Menjelang dekat finish, kami ditemani lari oleh seorang pelari senior yang bercerita tentang intrik-intrik lari trail. Ia berkisah, pada event-event trail run di Jawa sana, tidak jarang ada kelompok pelari yang bagi-bagi peran, yakni peran untuk sengaja menyesatkan pelari lain. Jadi kata senior itu, janganlah terlalu semangat mengikuti pelari di depan, lihatlah pada penanda lomba, kalau sudah beberapa ratus meter tak terlihat lagi penanda, maka segeralah kembali. Begitu. Wow. Lucunya di kasus saya tadi setelah cek poin pertama, justru saya yang semangat menyesatkan diri sendiri dan justru terselamatkan oleh petunjuk sahutan peserta lain. Terima kasih!

Dari kami bertiga, seorang akhirnya memutuskan lari lebih dulu ke depan. Kemudian seorang lagi lari di depan saya disemangati teman-temannya. Terakhirlah saya di belakang. Begitu terus sampai akhirnya kami sampai tujuan.


Dari seluruh peserta.

Saya manusia yang finish terakhir.

Keren gak? Banget! Ha! Ha! Ha!


Akhirnya selesai 18 kilometer altitude run!






Bakwan: Mengampuni Manusia

Kepala Kantor: “Ikhlas?”

Saya: “Enggak ikhlas.”


Terdengar kepala seksi saya terhenyak, lalu bergumam lirih mengulangi kata-kata saya, “Eh, enggak ikhlas.” Ia seakan-akan tiba-tiba menciut.

Saya lanjutkan makan saya tanpa sudi menatap manusia yang sedang mengunyah bakwan rampasan dari piring saya. “Kok pahit ya?” Tambah Bos kantor kami itu. Saya abaikan pertanyaannya bagai angin lalu. Setelah bertanya-tanya ke pegawai lain di ruangan itu tentang ketidakberadaan telepon di ruangan kami, ia pergi. Ia selamat. Ia saya ampuni.


Sungguh, ketika ia mempertanyakan keikhlasan setelah mengambil dan mengunyah bakwan satu-satunya di piring yang sedang saya makan, terlintas pikiran-pikiran berikut:


“I am unattached to this world. I don’t have any stake or anything I’m afraid to lose. I don’t feel that I have ever any actual family. I don’t have a home. Past and present are pretty illusions. Not even future, for all living thing, shall perish, and goals are a mere device to fool oneself just to breathe another day. I don’t fear god. I don’t fear prison. I am lost, I am alone, I am free. Even reciprocal altruism is at my mercy. Right in this moment, I can snap your neck, rip open your belly, eat your heart raw, bathe your corpse with my semen, and make paintings with your blood and feces. Go away quick. Begone. Off you pop. Hurry!”


Mengerikan rasanya. Saya sangat takut. Takut bahwa pikiran-pikiran itu bukan sekadar hal yang dilebih-lebihkan karena emosi sesaat. Bagaimana jika hal tersebut merupakan kebenaran? Selama berjam-jam kemudian, pikiran saya merosot berputar-putar ke dalam jurang-jurang gelap kotor bau tengik, keji dan busuk dan tolol dan basah becek air mata. Malu-malu asu mengharapkan ikatan dengan dunia, tapi begitu sombong atas perbedaan yang diada-ada. Apalagi sesungguhnya tidak ada materi diri yang dapat dijadikan alasan andalan atau leverage dalam argumen keberadaan; karena saya memang faktanya hanya seonggok daging tak tahu diri yang berimajinasi terlalu tinggi.


Tapi akhirnya saya tertawa saat menulis ini. Karena sungguh lucu, ketika pikiran saya meledak dengan segala khayal ketidakterikatan diri dengan dunia, justru dan justru disebabkan oleh emotional attachment terhadap bakwan.






Then kill yourself.




Guus Hiddink.


Eh Just Kidding maksudnya.





Jurnal Mamam

Dulu, awal-awal mulai lari. Salah satu hal yang membangkitkan motivasi adalah pencatatan. Perekaman data-data setiap lari dapat membuat saya menjadi semangat karena jadi tertantang untuk mengalahkan catatan pribadi diri sendiri sebelumnya. Lalu saya mau iseng coba melakukan pencatatan, manual, pada apa-apa yang saya konsumsi selain air putih. Dalam konteks makan umumnya semakin sedikit semakin bagus, semakin tidak konsumtif, semakin hemat. Sementara itu dalam konteks intermittent fasting, jarak antara makan terakhir dalam satu hari ke makan pertama hari berikutnya semakin jauh semakin baik. Ternyata, setelah dicatat, ternyata parah, saya masih makan terlalu banyak. Banget. Ada rekan kerja bilang, Meulaboh ini bikin gemuk, sejak pindah ke sini, ia dan satu rekan kerja lain, jadi menggelembung. Haha, mungkin karena memang minim hiburan, sehingga manusia-manusia beralih ke makanan.

Ternyata, setelah dicatat, ternyata parah, saya masih makan terlalu banyak. Banget. Ada rekan kerja bilang, Meulaboh ini bikin gemuk, sejak pindah ke sini, ia dan satu rekan kerja lain, jadi menggelembung. Haha, mungkin karena memang minim hiburan, sehingga manusia-manusia beralih ke makanan.

Berikut merupakan Jurnal Mamam yang saya mulai sejak 11 April 2016 hingga malam ini 16 April 2016:

11 April 2016


2 bakwan minta ke farhan


1 piring lontong sayur

1 gelas kopi susu


1 botol youc1000 mg vit c

–Jarak 1330 ke 0800 = 18,5 jam—

12 April 2016


1 bungkus nasi gurih telur lado

1 risol minta ke syuban

1 gelas teh manis


1 bakpau minta ke pak erwin

2 kue basah minta ke pak erwin

1 serabi minta ke pak erwin


1 yakiniku bento

1 twisty

1 mocha float

–1330 ke 0830 = 19 jam–

13 April 2016


1 porsi lontong pecel

1 bakwan


1 nestle crunch

2 tablet vitacimin

1 yakult


1 mie tiauw + kerupuk

1 es teh manis


1 es campur

–Jarak 1320 ke 0815 =  18 jam 55 menit–

14 April 2016


1 nasi gurih telor ceplok

1 gelas sanger

1 cheddar mini kraft

2 tablet vitamin c


2 permen tamarind

3 nestle crunch

1 tablet vitamin c


1 piring nasi pecel + ikan

1 es jeruk minta ke zainul


1 plastik kerupuk

1 buah oreo minta ke Bu Rusni


1 ciki cikian rasa keju minta ke Syubban

1 yakult minta ke syubban


1 piring nasi lemak sulo sulo

1 botol frestea

–1900 ke 0800 = 13 jam–

15 April 2016


3 gelas kopi pahit

7 macam kue


1 porsi lontong pecel


2 tablet vitamin c


1 sari roti keju

1 soyjoy kacang

1 botol niu milk tea


1 piring nasi goreng bumbu penyet

1 gelas jus wortel susu

–1830 ke 0910 = 14 jam 40 menit–

16 April 2016


1 botol youc1000 mg vit c


1 botol pocari sweat


1 piring nasi gurih telor mata sapi

1 gelas sanger dingin


1 permen green tea


5 gorengan

1 botol nutriboost milk orange

1 botol frestea


1 botol kiyora matcha


Secuil abon solo minta ke Farhan


1 piring serabi keju cokelat

1 piring mie aceh pake telur

1 gelas ice chocolate vanilla


Umumnya manusia melakukan intermittent fasting dengan pola 16/8, yakni 16 jam puasa, 8 jam makan. Tapi susah plek banget begitu. Kalau lagi malas, saya bisa sampai 24 jam gak makan. Ya malas aja. Tapi kalau lagi sibuk, atau stress, atau karena dikasih makanan, ditawarin makanan orang, yah gitu deh mumpung gratis, maka biasanya start puasapun jadi saya undur. Silakan cari tahu sendiri tentang intermittent fasting, sudah malam, saya malas ngetik, yah, intinya macam ocdnya om deddy sih.


Review: Foundation

It’s nice to feel validated, even by fiction. But it’s a fiction by Isaac Asimov for fuck sake. Reading Foundation made me felt that. I was always convinced that religion must be preserved for its utility to accelerate a civilization from chaotic deep shit into a recognizably lawful society. But like a weapon, it must be unsheathed and sheathed in a proper manner. To actually do that, unfortunately, we pudding brain apes aren’t capable of knowing surely when. But in Foundation, Hari Seldon managed to calculate it with his Psychohistory.

The Galactic Empire was on the brink of its own fate. There’s nothing that could be done at that moment to prevent the fall. But, based on his Psychohistory calculation, Hari Seldon said, he could, at least, try to build a foundation to reduce the dark ages that would come, from 30000 years to merely 1000 years. Thus, it was built at the edge of the Galaxy. At first, the foundation was there only to compile and to process knowledge into a gigantic Encyclopedia meant to be a source of light in the dark, but then it changed and evolved into so much more.

The men from Terminus –the world where The Foundation organization was built– was called “magicians” by the citizens that lived in the crumbling shadows of the old empire. Here is an excerpt:

“There have been stories percolating through space. They travel strange paths and become distorted with every parsec, but when I was young there was a small ship of strange men, who did not know our customs and could not tell where they came from. They talked of magicians at the edge of the Galaxy; magicians who glowed in the darkness, who flew unaided through the air, and whom weapons would not touch.”

The story itself is revolved around the powerplay happened within the Foundation, and its dynamics with external powers, and its whole fate against the crises that had been predicted by Sheldon. It’s merely about ideas illustrated clearly by clever characters and interesting events. It’s great. I really loved it. Thanks, Asimov! I’ll continue to read the next two books of the trilogy.

Review:The Silmarillion

I read the Hobbit,

And I fucking loved it.

In Children of Hurin,

My heart joyfully ruined.

And I,

Skipped The Lord of the Rings,

Jumped right into this Silmarillion thing.

Ugh. Mostly, the Silmarillion itself is about fancy elves making a fuss about their pretty jewelleries. And my main complaint about this is the fact that, even though the lore often mentioned how wise are the elves, yet most of their life wasted in the making and in the bloody-pursuit of gems. Feanor! Smartest, wisest, strongest blablabla, and yet his masterpiece was pretty stones, which then stolen by Melkor, which then made him swore an oath that would curse his descendants also. Come on Feanor, you could build many greater things than that shit; move on! But the tales of foolish bravery unveiled around them are awesome and worth reading indeed.

I enjoyed most of the tales. In the creation tales, Melkor’s act of rebellion, reminded me of myself; when I was a little, everytime I sang in choir, I often brought destruction upon the harmony just so I could hear myself more stand out than the rest. It was childish of course and I think, the creator, the god, Eru Illufarter understood this, so he let Melkor lives. Yeay for free will! Thus, he went on pursuing his malice, playing dark lord on middle earth until some half-elf in flying ship pounce his army down.

Out of many heroic battles in this book, the most daring was Fingolfin. He rode alone to Angband in anger after the battle of sudden flame broke the siege of Angband. Morgoth could not refuse his invitation to duel. So they fought one on one. Fingolfin was a mighty elf, but Morgoth was godly. It was foolish to me, but it was foolishness worthy to be envied for. There’s this song titled: Time Stands Still (At The Iron Hill) which I think illustrates the spectacular feat of Fingolfin properly. I loved this song before, and now after reading Silmarillion, my exhilaration is kind of tripled.

Another great duel was between Luthien and Huan versus Sauron. Luthien’s magic was so great that later, even Morgoth himself was put to sleep by it. This was a part of Beren and Luthien love story. A story that can be summed up into: the suitor sought the dangerous dowry, but failed and ended up saved by the princess. Yeah, so powerful was Luthien, that when she wore the Silmaril, Feanor’s sons were afraid to adhere to their cursed oath.

Tolkien has great influence indeed, for before reading this, I already familiar with many of the terms from various metal band’s songs or names or stage names that adopted names from his works. So reading Silmarillion made me finally able to make sense some of those words. And yes, they’re fucking cool names. Amon Amarth! Gorgoroth!

I don’t know what to write anymore. There are things still in my head, but they’re mere tiny complaints compared to the whole awesomeness of the book. So, I guess, I shall end this here. If you seek mythical tales of foolish bravery written beautifully; if you seek to understand the source of all works that adopted concepts and names from Tolkien’s; eat this book!

Hmmm. Yum yum.

A Greek God and His Salamander

You were a nameless Greek God

Who awoke from long slumber

Beneath the lead water

Of Great Lakes’ miraculous wad


One day, from underneath a log

Love lured you

To turned it over

It was him and the frog

Each, one eyed, that’s true

But your heart desired

Only the salamander


Salvador then you named him

And acres of soils and jungles

Were arranged for his residence

Where you threw preys with strong limbs

Then with grace,

he chased without bungles

And in awe,

you beheld his claws

Swung in unrivaled magnificence


But the mortals were mad

Because you took their lands for him

They invoked then, the chemical pandora box

Crippling most of your kin, it made you sad

And as you silently sit still in heavy grim

They trapped grown up Salvador in a deep pit,

then smashed him dead with laser-guided asteroid


Hellish grief undressed you of your divine might

Now, you’re merely one of them mortal

But I know, you will eventually fight

Once again, once for all

With a plot so dark

That none shall

Ever ever ever walk


So here I sit

Scratching my balls

Wishing you, a great good luck