“I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story. From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn't quite make out. I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn't make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.” - The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath
Jika hidupku diibaratkan sebuah lorong, tulisan Sylvia Plath ini seolah menjadi cermin yang melapisi lorong tersebut. Kemana pun aku menengokkan kepala, Plath dan pohon tin-nya selalu memantul jelas. Terlalu jernih.
Buah tin-ku yang satu adalah seorang Chief Creative Officer di advertising agency ternama. Buah tin yang lain adalah seorang auteur yang film-filmnya selalu ada di festival film arthouse internasional. Buah tin yang lain adalah seorang produser musik dengan karakternya sendiri. Buah tin yang lain adalah seorang wirausahawan dengan berbagai macam bisnis yang ia punya.
Aku masih punya seumur hidup untuk dengan naif berusaha menjaga agar tidak ada buah yang membusuk lalu jatuh dan dikerubungi semut, belum rela untuk memutuskan hanya satu yang akan kupetik.
