A friend of mine used to live in a box. Her name was Pan, but later changed it to be Dora with no obvious reason. She felt comfortable to live there because she could create her own imaginary world where she might become anyone she wanted to be. One day I visited her house and did not find her. I thought she was sleeping in her bedroom, so I went upstairs to meet her. However, instead of meeting her, I rather found an ancient key laid on the table near the door to her bedroom. That key caught my attention because it looked very different from any other keys that I had ever seen throughout my entire life. Pan—in this case who had become Dora—accidentally forgot to also put her box in her bedroom. So, I intentionally used the key to open the box because I thought Dora was probably there and I really wanted to meet her. The key was surprisingly an extra key to open that box. Eventually, the box had been opened, and I found Pan—eh, I mean Dora—was there. She became mad at me and d
Ingin berkontemplasi lewat tulisan, tapi kepala ini telanjur buntu untuk berpikir dan jari-jari tangan terasa kaku untuk mengetik. Sarang laba-laba di “rumah kedua” ini rasa-rasanya sudah menyebar seantero ruangan. Jangan tanya kecoa yang berlarian di kepala, tak terhitung lagi banyaknya. Aku pernah melupa dengan alasan kesibukan. Kesibukan yang menjelma rutinitas. Dan yang namanya rutinitas cepat atau lambat akan berujung pada kebosanan. Hari ini aku tersadarkan pada hasrat yang membumbung untuk menulis lagi. Mengisi “rumah kedua” dengan perabotan dan pernak-pernik kesukaan. Namun apa daya, kepala ini telanjur buntu untuk berpikir dan jari-jari tangan terasa kaku untuk mengetik. Tolong keluarkan kecoa-kecoa ini dari kepala!