A Happy Tom
Dasar penyakit. Dulu memaksaku membuat blog, sekarang dia bahagia sendirian, nggak ngajak-ngajak. Tadi pagi, di sebelah kasurnya kutemukan catatan, ditulis dalam tulisan tangan yang bisa membuat dokter mana pun mengaku kalah. Pasti ini hasil kekurangajarannya akhir-akhir ini.
O Babel-fish, o bubble-fish, I could laugh in every language man has ever dreamt. For Lady Godiva has her mercy.
Common things inside. Some revelation we have.
A little of this. A chunk of that. A gaze on them. And I laughed. Again and again.
Standing on an intersection. A God’s eye toward Blakley’s scheme. This must be how Monsieur Poirot feels like.
If only they knew. But don’t they? Then let me play with little jingling bell, noting that there are tons to tell. But I’m laughing again, since there’s nothing to gain.
Secrets are painful, like a chockfull of bezoars in your belly.
Secrets are not helpful, like a stone on top of the hill, which even Sisyphus doesn’t aware.
Wishing you all well, kiddos! Keep playing. Uncle Tom will be watching. And laughing.
-S
Ampun. Untung saja dia nggak ngajak-ngajak ikut “bahagia”.
Lanjut...
