The Fool

Hey, wanna have sex with me? You see, all of my friends have done it. I’m like still the vi–


My wrath overheard by the blatant whack. Proved by the harsh slap. Did it hammer and tongs by a hand-wrestling champion, no wonder. His sexual harassment has gone too far. Made the rest of pupils dumbfounded, eventually. There he goes again. Replied it with a mere ridiculous grin, casually. Picking up his iPad Mini and Attack on Titan manga book, ditching the classroom. Nobody heeded his abhorrent attitude. A facepalm is not considered as a geez anymore.

He walked throughout the parking lot with his lousy purple umbrella. His mom and dad were waiting inside the black SUV. He sat on the backside. Back indulging himself with the toys on his palms. Heading to the nearby shopping mall. To the arcade center. A literal place to dispose of your wealth in minutes.

Someone kill the DJ, shoot the fucking DJ
Voices in my head are sayin’
“Shoot that fucker down”

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The Lost Girl

Warning: NSFW content


Tick tock tick tock

It is one past twenty-three in the morning. She knows that an eight years old girl should be asleep by nine. She finds the ticking sound is peaceful. She feels reluctant to fall asleep in such peaceful night like this when she is able to sleep soundly. No television crashing. No door slamming. No cupboard crashing. No mommy shouting. No daddy shouting. No nightmares. She feels grateful enough.

She is a little girl that believes two home is better than one. She is a little girl that has to deal with such an ordeal. Her mind flows to last Wednesday. Daddy was here. When daddy is here things are not right. She hardly ever hearing her dad talk normally. Daddy always shouting in rage at mommy, and then mommy always lamenting in misery. She never saved mommy. She condemns herself for always running away to the hollow playground downstairs. That is where she met her, a girl with two black eye sockets, without eyeballs. She thinks that girl is always there for her, but she never talks. She often confused because she only does not have eyes, her mouth is there.

Suddenly she remembers when she attended one of her friend’s birthday party, and there was piñata-hitting game. She knew that it is far from possible since she can’t even hope to have such parents that will arrange everything according to your favor for your ninth birthday party. She cried even harder.

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My Other Half


I believe she is the greatest Grace of God thus far, sharing the same last name congenitally. The word ‘sister’ and ‘best friend’ is never enough to define her. No matter how obnoxious or pulchritudinous our lives can be, she always stand by my side; my partner in crime.

I feel ashamed for being such a failure as her older sister in these recent times, disenchanting that I am dependent on her back. Both painful and beautiful memories we share are still vivid, too vivid where I scarcely share it with someone else. Having her as my roommate, until the day I graduated high school, even though we both have our rooms may have described a bit the bond we share. She is the reason why I smile, I grin, I laugh, showing my white teeth to the world.

She was the only one who was there when our biological father was uncontrollably in rage, ended up hurting me both inside and outside. She was genuinely willing to bear my pain, partially. She was the only one that mold every drop of my tears when such prevaricator pestered my peaceful life, patching and healing every tiniest bit of holes and wounds in my heart.

She is always there for me within any seasons, until this second. I cannot help thinking how could I (mentally) be without her back, whereas I am the one who is supposed to do such things.

Years ago, people did despise her on account of exaggerating prestigious school matters, unstoppably comparing and judging the intelligence we possessed. Which perhaps have answered why I hate those people. Amidst all such matter reoccurred, her affection toward me never fade the tiniest bit.

I cannot help but condemning myself doing nothing comparable for her sake.

Supposedly I am writing this excerpt as a small unredeemable birthday gift on last December, pardon me for my tardiness. Thereby I dedicate this excerpt specially for you, my other half, because I love you.


Pondering about T.I.

My Other Mother

Affection by Pino Daeni

Love and affection. Such feelings that could grow consanguineously or not. Not about to discuss that common sexual attraction, regardless their gender. This is about mother and daughter kind of affection by a person unrelated by blood.

She is more than a teacher to me, I can say she is my role model. It was during the seventh grade of Junior High School when the first time I met her and started to teach me and my sister. That time, she was still studying at the University of Indonesia for her Diploma degree. She is an admirable and amazing young lady. She is tremendously hard-working, smart, loves to write and read. She really appreciates knowledge. During the first time I told her about my goals and dreams, she was astonished and encouraged me to pursue them. I have never received that kind of reaction before. Others would have laughed at me. Which made me reluctant discussing about my dreams to other people other than my mother. A glimpse of confidence sparked within me at that time.

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