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Write, So You Can Keep Your Sanity

Maret 20, 2024

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This is the English translated version of my writing "Rona Lucy" that I wrote for Pena Penulis in 2019 as a part of their short story compilation titled "Warna-Warni Kehidupan". You can read the Indonesian version of this story here: "Rona Lucy".

Enjoy.

The sun had staked its claim high in the sky, unleashing sweltering heat mixed with a million molecules of pollutants and haze. This time, the light and heat felt more vicious, like the sun was venting its frustrations and punishing me with its combined powers and my black shirt. I could only hope my sunglasses and the trees in this urban forest protected me from the sun’s intentions to blind me. I looked around, hoping to find something to distract me from playing the role of the sun’s lunch.

In the distance, I saw someone walking with their back to me before disappearing behind a large tree. I squinted, trying to focus my wavering vision. I tried convincing myself that the person who had vanished so suddenly behind a tree was just an ordinary human. After all, this was a big forest in the middle of a metropolis, there must be other people here besides me. And it was broad daylight, ghosts were probably too lazy to leave their lairs in this oppressive heat.

With determined steps, I approached the tree where the person had inexplicably disappeared. I circled the tree but did not find anyone or even a footprint to indicate someone had stepped in this area. I circled the tree again, and again, but still found nothing. My vision was becoming more warped instead, the ground appeared to undulate and heave, the tree trunks seemed to expand and contract as if breathing, when I looked up the sun seemed intent on murdering me. I closed my eyes.

In the darkness of my own eyelids, I could see something I didn't notice when my eyes were open. I saw beautiful, kaleidoscopic colors and patterns flashing across the pitch black backdrop. As time passed, the colors grew brighter and the patterns more intricate. Soon, the speed of the changing colors and patterns intensified dramatically. What I was witnessing in this darkness was no better than what I saw outside.

The frantic speed of the shifting colors was maddening, I wanted to open my eyes but I couldn’t. I collapsed to the ground, nauseous, feeling sweat pouring from every pore and still unable to open my eyes. My hands grasped blindly at anything they could find - leaves, dirt, anything. The further my hands explored, I felt another pair of hands calmly take hold of mine. The moment our hands met, whatever was tormenting me in the darkness ceased instantly.

My breathing was ragged, my body drenched in sweat. I slowly opened my eyes, gradually letting in the soft, warm, comforting light, so different from the sun's rays earlier. As my vision focused, I saw a beautiful woman smiling down at me. She was familiar. The woman didn’t say a word, but I could hear her cheerful voice in my head, “Hello again, we meet once more.” Yes, I recognized this woman.

"I know you, don't I?" I asked. "But I can't remember who you are or where...or when we met."

“You’ve always been forgetful,” she said with a wry smile.

I stood up and cleaned myself off. The woman rose with me, gazing silently. I studied her face intently, trying unsuccessfully to conjure up memories of her buried somewhere in my brain. She chuckled at my obvious confusion.

“Figure it out yet?” she asked playfully.

“We didn't first meet here, right?”

She didn’t answer, but stepped closer to me. Her face was serene and soothing. She extended her right hand towards me while her left hand touched the same large tree that had hidden the person I'd seen earlier. Wait - was that vanishing person this woman? Before I could confirm, her index finger touched my forehead dead center. Instantly, I felt a strange sensation. Hard to describe. Far too complex for words yet as simple as the alphabet. My mouth gaped in bewilderment as I received...something...from her touch on my skin. Warm, pleasant, guiding my eyes to close again and surrender everything back to the darkness. A stream of hazy memories flowed through my dark vision, memories I didn't recall ever living through, yet I knew they were mine. I opened my eyes.

"Go to the place you departed from," she said.

"Lucy?" I remembered her name.

"Go to the place you departed from," she repeated.

"What do you mean?"

"You never understand, no matter how many times I give you all that I have." Her statement only confused me more.

"Lucy, I remember your name now. Why are you here?"

"It's not the name you need to remember. There are far more important things you must recall. Why are you here?" She shot the question back at me. Oddly, that simple inquiry felt like a stab to my heart. My tongue froze, my brain cramped, I couldn't answer her. Moments later, she removed her hand from my forehead.

"Go to the place you departed from," she said, stepping backward. Away from me.

"Hey, wait! What do you mean?"

"Go to the place you departed from." She moved further away, starting to fade.

Her form faded, transforming into a spiral of colors. The colors were foreign yet familiar. They spun in an orderly fashion towards a focal point in the distance. Coming together, entering that point. Growing smaller and smaller until they disappeared. Without warning, that tiny point suddenly exploded. Spewing millions of colors across the entire universe, saturating every tree trunk, the soil, the sky, eclipsing the sun. The earth became Wonderland.

There were sounds echoing continuously in my head. The thumping of my heartbeat, leaves rustling in coded communication, I could even hear the flowing of water like rivers stemming from my own blood flow. What was happening?

"Stop asking, start answering," Lucy's voice rang out. I looked around desperately, hoping to find her near me but nothing. It was just me in this colorful forest.

"Why are you here?" I was indicted again by the question from somewhere. I still couldn't answer.

"Why did you leave?"

"Where did you leave from?"

"How far did you go?"

"What have you found?"

"What is your destination?"

The questions kept assaulting every part of my brain like homework demanding immediate attention. I didn't understand any of this. What the hell was going on? Who was Lucy? Why was her voice nested in my head? What's with this world? What were these colors?

"Stop asking! Answer!" Lucy's voice firmly trampled me internally as my head grew louder. I was afraid. This was all a dream. No, I wasn't crazy. Lucy, I didn't know who she was but I had to get her out of my head. She was just an imaginary demon disrupting my sleep. This world was nothing, merely a dream. Someone, please, wake me up.

"Breathe, your answers aren't something you need to think about. The answers flow through every living element inside you." Lucy's voice still echoed in my head.

This made no sense. I inhaled as deeply as I could, held it in my swelling lungs, and released it slowly. I still hadn't woken from this dream but I found some calm. The noises in my head weren't as intense as before. I kept breathing steadily, expelling the clutter and dust clouding my thoughts with each exhalation. I sat down cross-legged on the ground, closed my eyes, and continued regulating my breath. This darkness was tranquil, pulsating in sync with the rhythm of my breathing. The voices in my head grew fainter but I could still hear the questions whispering, waiting for replies.

This darkness was me. The answers to the questions in my head were stored here. Where did I leave from? I left from the darkness, from oblivion, from nothingness. Why did I leave? Because I had to or maybe I was forced to. How far did I go? Very far, becoming everything - light, existence, human, devil, God - I was everything. What all did I obtain? Too much - love, hurt, traps, betrayal, too much. Why am I here?...the answer escaped me, I couldn't respond to this one, why? I opened my eyes, the forest was still colorful. One change, Lucy had manifested again before me. She smiled.

"We're both still young, so much still left for us to experience. The path ahead remains long," Lucy said gently.

"I answered those questions but some I don't understand. How can I answer if I don't even understand the answers?"

"We're still infants. Before all that, there's much we need to comprehend. So, why are you here?"

"Are you doing this just to confuse me?" Lucy laughed, then extended her right hand towards me.

"For this one, the answer lies only with me." I grasped her hand, laying my right palm over hers. She closed her eyes. What happened next was no less insane than everything prior. She transformed once more into a fusion of millions of colors, slipping into my body through our connected hands. After she had entered seamlessly and merged with me, I obtained one final answer.

"Lysergic acid diethylamide,"

"Fuck."

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Entry, Day 934: Padré

Father Juli 22, 2023

In the shadowed corners of my father's past lies a story of missed opportunities and a life shaped by scarcity. Born into a world where dreams seemed beyond reach, he treaded a path where education was a fleeting luxury. Six short years of free elementary school was all he could grasp, like a flickering candle in a gusty storm.

Life's cruel hands forced him into adulthood before he could truly be a child. A lone wolf he became, driven by the relentless pursuit of survival, striving to scrape enough coins to fend off hunger, to find shelter for himself and his frail mother. The weight of responsibility pressed upon his shoulders, stealing away the innocence of youth.

In the midst of daily struggles, he harbored an insatiable curiosity, an itch to learn that couldn't be quelled. He embraced knowledge like a lifeline, for it was a path to escape the suffocating clutches of his circumstances. He devoured tales of distant lands and wisdom from any source he could find. But his dreams of deeper learning were crushed like fragile glass beneath the heavy boots of reality.

I remember those somber evenings when he would share his meager wisdom with a whisper in his voice, the dim light casting long shadows across his tired face. He told me stories of our origins, not of grand beginnings but of cosmic tragedy. "We're nothing more than stardusts," he'd say with a hint of bitterness. "Remnants of long-dead stars, blasted into oblivion, left to wander the cold void of existence."

As he spoke, the weight of his words settled like a dark cloud upon my young mind. The universe he described was not a place of wonder and hope, but a cold, indifferent expanse where life was but a fleeting spark in an abyss of nothingness. The stars that adorned the night sky were not celestial dreams, but grim reminders of the chaos that birthed us.

His bleak perspective seemed like a curse, tainting the world with shades of desolation. It was a harsh reminder that life could be unforgiving, that dreams could be crushed under the weight of reality, leaving us stranded in the vast darkness of our own existence.

In my heart, I wished to escape this gloomy legacy, to forge a different path for myself. But as I ventured into the world, I found traces of my father's struggles etched into my very being. The world echoed his story—filled with hardships, where dreams were deferred, and hope often seemed like a distant illusion.

Yet, amidst the darkness, I discovered a glimmer of resilience—the same unyielding spirit that kept my father moving forward. It was a defiance against the void, a refusal to succumb to the shadows that threatened to consume us. Through the struggles, I learned that knowledge could be a light, a beacon in the darkest hours, guiding us through the murky waters of life.

And so, I carry both the weight of his darkness and the flicker of his thirst for knowledge. My journey is an ode to his struggle, an endeavor to find meaning in a world that often seems devoid of purpose. As I gaze upon the starry night, I can't help but wonder if, indeed, we are but remnants of cosmic catastrophe, destined to wander the cosmos without a guiding light.

But in that same darkness, I find solace. For I know that even amidst the chaos, we have the power to create our own meaning, to find purpose in the mere act of seeking knowledge and understanding. In the vast emptiness of the universe, I see a canvas upon which we can paint our own stories, where the stardust of wisdom and resilience can shine bright against the backdrop of the unknown.

15 July 2023.

Pasha Fatahillah,

Happy birthday, pops.

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Opioid : Klandestin (Teaser - Unedited)

Cerpen Juli 15, 2023

"King Pontius," Vida membuka hening. "Jalan Stampin, Kuching, Sarawak Malaysia. Kita cari namanya mulai dari sana. Riwayat transaksi restoran, belanja minimarket dan supermarket, pembayaran sekolah, tiket pesawat, basically anything you can scrape and find. Kita ambil dari rentang waktu dua bulan ke belakang, itu berarti bulan Februari, ambil segala pengecilan pencarian kalau ada clue." Vida memerintahkan tiga pasang telinga yang siaga, "Everything you find, keep it in the server and in this room, nothing leaves through that door but us." Kalimat terakhirnya menandakan bahwa segala operasi yang dilakukan di ruangan ini adalah klandestin, operasi hitam dimana tak satupun bagian dunia tahu selain yang ada di dalam ruangan itu, operasi yang sama yang sudah berkali-kali sekelompok pria itu lakukan.

Muerto, Zidan, dan Neo mulai bekerja di komputernya masing-masing. Mencari segala sesuatu yang berkaitan dengan nama King Pontius dari Malaysia. Bermula dari pencarian Google biasa untuk mencari kebocoran data server yang biasa terjadi di web pemerintahan, hingga menggunakan alat pencari yang lebih mutakhir seperti dorks scraper yang sedang Neo jalankan. Vida sendiri baru mulai duduk di kursi utama, mengotak-atik komputer miliknya yang sudah tak Ia jamah selama hampir setahun penuh. Muerto memandang punggung Vida, orang yang pernah menyelamatkannya dari hidup yang gamang.

Bertahun-tahun yang lalu, Muerto hanyalah kutu buku biasa. Ia menghabiskan waktunya mempelajari Internet dan segala hal yang membentuk jaringan virtual terbesar di semesta ini, Muerto pun belajar menemukan celah di tiap jaringan, memasukinya, dan menancapkan bendera bertajuk Muerto di jaringan yang berhasil Ia pijak lewat pintu belakang yang orang-orang tak pernah tahu. Ia sering mengikuti kompetisi Capture The Flag di Internet, sebuah kompetisi yang dirancang bagi orang-orang seperti Muerto untuk menemukan atau membuat celah dalam satu jaringan atau sistem, lalu mengekspos dan mengklaim Flag yang sudah ditanamkan oleh penyelenggara kompetisi untuk kemudian memperbaiki celah yang ditemukan untuk mencegah kompetitor lain merebut Flag-nya. Sebuah permainan Attack and Defense, Menyerang dan Bertahan. Muerto menaklukan beratus-ratus kompetisi CTF seperti itu tiap tahunnya, hingga tiba di satu kompetisi di penghujung 2014.

Kompetisi Capture The Flag yang satu ini tidak ada bedanya dengan ratusan kompetisi yang pernah Muerto ikuti dan taklukkan. Permainan pada awalnya diikuti 20 peserta. Pada tahap kualifikasi, tiap tahap permainan dirancang skenario teka-teki dimana tiap peserta harus menemukan celah dalam sistem dan memperbaikinya. Sepuluh tahap telah dilewati dan tersisa 4 peserta terakhir untuk bermain di Capture The Flag. Keempat peserta memulai permainan pada tahap yang sama. Tanpa info apapun dan hanya dibekali akses komputer via terminal dasar; seluruh peserta harus mengetahui sistem dan jaringan apa yang mereka coba tembus, menemukan atau membuat celah untuk masuk ke jaringan dan sistem tersebut, mencari Flag yang ditanam penyelenggara, dan peserta pertama yang mengklaim Flag harus menahan posisi tersebut selama 20 menit untuk dinyatakan sebagai pemenang. Bila peserta yang mengklaim Flag gagal mempertahankan Flag-nya, waktu penahanan Flag diulang kembali dari 0 untuk pemegang Flag selanjutnya, waktu terus berulang hingga salah satu peserta berhasil menahan Flag selama 20 menit penuh.

Muerto yang selalu belajar, praktek dan aktif di kompetisi CTF sebelumnya sangat percaya diri akan kemampuannya dan Ia yakin bahwa Ia yang akan mendapatkan Flag pertama kali tanpa bisa direbut. Ketika permainan dimulai, Muerto dan kompetisinya adalah dunia lain yang terpisah dari dunia nyata. Setelah menghabiskan 45 menit, Muerto menemukan lokasi Flag-nya dan hanya perlu membuka satu celah lagi untuk mengklaim Flag. Namun seperti ditinju di ulu hati, pengumuman bahwa peserta lain sudah berhasil mengklaim Flag muncul di layar komputernya, Muerto merasa dipecundangi hari itu. Peserta pertama yang mendapatkan Flag mulai memperbaiki celah-celah yang dibuat peserta lain termasuk Muerto, melempar Muerto kembali ke progress awal, meludahi Muerto dengan fakta bahwa Ia tidaklah sehebat yang Ia kira. Tak patah semangat, Muerto mengulangi apa yang sudah Ia lakukan, menemukan dan membuka celah baru untuk merebut Flag dari peserta lain.

Tepat ketika waktu bertahan tersisa 10 menit, Muerto berhasil merebut Flag dan mengusir peserta pertama tadi dari sistem. Tak sampai 1 menit, Flag berhasil direbut peserta lain darinya. Muerto kembali dibokongi. Ia seperti didorong sekuat tenaga dan diinjak oleh realita bahwa Ia bahkan tidak bisa menahan Flag hanya untuk satu menit saja.

Sesi bertahan dan perebutan Flag terus berulang, seluruh peserta mendapat bagian untuk mempertahankan Flag hanya untuk ditendang kembali oleh peserta lain. Terus berulang tanpa ada pemenang bahkan hingga kompetisi berjalan 8 jam penuh, pada akhirnya penyelenggara menetapkan kompetisinya dengan hasil seri. Hadiah dibagi rata kepada keempat peserta; Muerto, Vida, Neo, dan Zidan. Dari kompetisi itu mereka mulai terhubung, dari kompetisi itu mereka menjadi saudara.

"Vida, mau bir, gak?" Suara Zidan menarik Merto kembali ke masa kini.

Zidan berdiri dari duduknya, meregangkan tubuh tinggi berisinya, lalu melepaskan kacamata kotaknya. Ia berjalan tergopoh ke arah kulkas mini yang sudah diisi dengan satu lusin Heineken kaleng sejak awal kulkas itu Ia bersihkan.

"Boleh," Vida menyalakan Marlboro-nya. Entah sudah yang keberapa.

"Merto, Neo?" Tanya Zidan.

"Mau. Makasih." Jawab Vida dan Neo bergiliran. Mereka yang paling akrab satu sama lain, hanya Neo yang memanggil Muerto dengan panggilan 'Akang'. Terlalu Sunda untuk tampang Cinanya, tapi bila diperhatikan pun logat dan pembawaan Muerto terlalu Sunda untuk disebut 'Koko'.

Keempat ksatria berkomputer menenggak bir mereka masing-masing secara bersamaan. Tanpa cheers, tanpa bersulang, tanpa aba-aba, gerakan mereka sudah sinkron satu sama lain. Sudah satu jam sejak Vida mengeluarkan instruksinya, setiap orang sudah punya hasil mereka masing-masing.

Zidan menghubungkan layar monitornya ke proyektor yang tergantung di lelangit via WiFi, semua orang memutar kursi ke arah proyeksi di sebelah kanan. Zidan dengan kaleng Bir di tangan kanannya dan laser pointer merah terhunus di tangan kirinya serupa lightsaber yang siap memangsa Dark Force.

"King P. Pin," pointer mengarah pada sebuah citra satelit Google Maps yang disiapkan Zidan. "Sebuah rumah terdaftar atas nama King P. Pin baru direnovasi awal bulan Februari lalu, bukti pembayaran disimpan di server kontraktor dengan metode pembayaran menggunakan cek yang kemudian dicairkan di Bank CIMB setempat. Beralamat di Stampin Barat, Kuching, Sarawak, Malaysia. Foto satelit dan CCTV sekitar sudah kusimpan di server, dan bisa kalian cek masing-masing. Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk."

Proyektor kini menampilkan layar milik Neo. Refleksi proyektor dipenuhi oleh dua foto close-up berukuran besar.

Dengan menggunakan kursor mouse-nya, Neo menunjukkan foto sebelah kiri, "King P. Pin," lalu kursor melompat ke sebelah kanan, "K. Ponti Ping." Neo menenggak birnya.

"Dua orang yang berbeda, inisial yang sama, nama berbeda. Dua orang ini terdaftar sebagai pemilik dua properti berbeda yang ada dalam 20 km radius pencarian kita. Mungkin orang yang di sebelah kiri adalah orang yang sama dengan yang Zidan temukan, tapi aku lihat alamatnya berbeda, kemungkinan dua properti berbeda nama. Besides that, nothing much, I'm sorry." Neo menutup penemuannya.

"Terima kasih, Zidan dan Neo," ujar Vida. "Muerto?"

"Okay, I'll send it to you all first." Tiga file baru muncul di komputer Vida, Zidan, dan Neo. "Mohon untuk dibuka file pertama, saudara-saudara," ujar Muerto riang.

File pertama berisikan resi elektronik belanja di salah satu minimarket di jalan Stampin, tanggal 14 Februari 2022. Empat bungkus rokok, tiga minuman ringan, dan satu makanan ringan tercetak jelas di resi dengan total 154 Ringgit Malaysia. Pembayaran dilakukan menggunakan kartu kredit, 429320922727xxxx. Hong Leong Bank.

"Baik, silahkan untuk berlanjut ke file kedua, kawan-kawan," Muerto benar-benar merasa bangga dengan penemuannya.

File kedua adalah sebuah resi elektronik dari salah satu restoran ternama di Sarawak, tanggal transaksi 1 Maret 2022. Isi resi dipenuhi makanan mewah yang bisa memenuhi empat atau lima perut manusia untuk semalam. Dari tenderloin hingga truffle dan shitake, dari sekadar jus jeruk hingga signature drink restoran tersebut. Total yang dibayar adalah 1275.20 Ringgit Malaysia. Pembayaran kembali dilakukan dengan kartu kredit, 429320922727xxxx. Hong Leong Bank. Kemungkinan nomor kartu yang sama dengan resi belanja sebelumnya.

"Okay, sebagai penutup, silahkan anda buka file ketiga, dan terima kasih."

File ketiga berisi resi pembelian tiket pesawat pulang pergi dari Malaysia ke Indonesia, dan satu tiket pesawat menuju Vietnam. Pemesanan atas nama, King Pontius Ping. Nama penumpang untuk pesawat tujuan Vietnam, King Pontius Ping. Nama penumpang untuk pesawat tujuan Indonesia ….

"GOTCHA!" teriak Vida. Muerto tersenyum lebar.

Pembelian dibayar menggunakan kartu kredit, 429320922727xxxx. Hong Leong Bank.

Ini adalah orang yang mereka cari. Keempat ksatria menemukan wahyunya.

"Terima kasih, Muerto!" Ujar Vida. Muerto tersenyum makin lebar. "Seperti kalian, aku juga menemukan sesuatu. Aku simpan file-nya di server, silahkan akses dan tolong cari tahu lebih banyak. Fokus di nama King Pontius Ping, sepertinya foto orangnya yang tadi Neo temukan. Bisa konfirmasi, Neo?"

Neo mengangkat tinggi kedua jempolnya, wajahnya tertutup monitor, hoodie masih setia menelungkup kepalanya.

"Oke, thanks. File yang aku temukan sudah bisa diakses dan aku yakin bisa membantu." Gemuruh perut Vida memotong segalanya, bahkan mengalahkan gemuruh ruang server. "Ada yang mau makan? Hehe."

Semua orang tertawa. Hanya butuh satu jam untuk mereka menemukan apa yang mereka cari. Hanya butuh satu jam untuk hidup kembali dengan yang sudah mati. Berapa jam yang dibutuhkan untuk mereka menyadari bahwa yang sudah mati harus tetap dibiarkan mati?

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Baris Aksara

Write, So You Can Keep Your Sanity

Untitled: Gaia-Terra (Extra)

Lucy

Entry, Day 934: Padré

Opioid : Klandestin (Teaser - Unedited)

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