It is just a public delicacy,
to eat someone heart out.
The screaming, kicking,
which no one hear, no one feel.
Venous eyes and glowing cheeks.
Because you know it, you do nothing.
It is just a norm,
the norm no one cares.
"There are people dying,
if you care enough for the living" - Michael Jackson
"Neither hate nor grudge,
between the lips of apologists."
I sometime hate being me, of not able to control things that are not supposed to happen. I hate this careless hand, for making others sink in the lake of sins. After all, I am just a kid happens to not knowing the future, for what ever I did in the past, just the way to figure up, trial by error, my future to come. For every wrong I did, for every broken heart I broke, do forgive me, if happen to be otherwise, so do I.
I came across a blog, really great one, as great as what I aspect to, and its inspirational, yet the rationality is still touching the ground, especially for me, who still searching for something practically new to be brought forward to my undecided future but foretold to be as great as what I attempt to be now. This is what I found and would love to share it with whoever considering the new idea, new perspective of thinking, rather than clinging to the old one.
"The search for the new cannot be an ordinary search, because it is for the new — how can you search for it? You don't know it, you have never met it. The search for the new is going to be just an open exploration. One knows not. One has to start in a state of not knowing, and one has to move innocently like a child, thrilled with the possibilities — and infinite are the possibilities."
Courage: The Joy of Living Dangerously by Osho
One with the most modifications,
is the one with the most flaws.
Like an impersonate character.
Like most people.
Like you.
I've been somewhile around, I see, everything is about make up.
If there is, truely a pandora's box,existed somewhere in this world,I would like to possess it,unleashed all the so called,evils-of-the-world,just to make room,for me to crawl inside it.and live.
There is no need for pandora's box, the world is already have enough of the evil inside it. How can we ever survive? Are we a part of it? or just pretending not to be?
.. when each day is a holiday.weekending is daying,houring is minuting.walking is indeed, running,or else, sleeping.And there goes my age.
World's spinning too fast, I can hardly catch my breath.
Still, silly as a kid searching for fishes,in a dried pond in the midst of arid desert.Silly as me.
Honesty is a real big deal when dealing with unintended mistake. When one is honest over a misunderstanding, one will indeed be admired by the one who mistake is casted upon. Honesty brings another different kind of atmosphere, to compensate the gloomy previous state of crisis which will bring those two people closer together, tied by invisible string of trust. And the future encounter will of cause be a great pleasure for both party.
There I left again, a door open ajar.On the leather, I hanged a bag aside.Then I said, in silent,
"I'm gonna leave it again"
"This time for something simpler".
Nothing on my wallet,
which I toasted aside,
the day I torn asunder.I search not a place,but a space, a chance to be human.Uninfluenced by the outsiders.
But this day I am back together,
One piece, but complete.I want no more than I need.A job ,but not a force to work.
A fortune, but not prosperous.A mind, not extremist one.
I cast my absurd dream,
submitting to the righteous.The one I must obey,
to be a thrall, humble, unobtrusive,
to the only One above.to the only God I know.
Waking up each day, give us every reason to forget the past, mostly the cruelest of day. But the sound of alarm, the smell of toast, the recognition of habits, revealed hundred of thought of who we were, the product of previous state of existence. Forgetting is not the only way out. holding on is not even a good option. We should let some, we grab some, we value the things we still hold on to. We try our best to be victimise, just to be judge by ourselves. For the future won't be far better or worst. Its just the way we handle the truth, could stipulate of who we are and who we are supposed to be.
4th January 2011
I wish I was a punching bag,
for while I could be punished.
I wish I was a lipstick,
that someone depend on, and I owned their lips.
I wish I was a candle on a date,
witnessing someone's proposal, or laugh.
I wish I was the shining sun,
could give them warm and light.
I wish I was a nostalgic paint
someone hung on the wall and praised to sleep.
I wish I was a wind,someone felt even a thousand mile I blew.
I wish I was as sentimental as Mozart,
singing and weeping on the stage.
I wish I was a traveler,
waited by someone over the continent.
I wish I was every cause for someone's happiness,I wish I was every reason for someone's gloryness.I wish I was all the answers to everyone's incertitude,I wish, I wish and I guess the list is never end.
Aloneness awaits before sleep put ourselves to the most vulnerable position, at least to the way we think, at least to our oneself. We don't have the capability to tell the lie we told almost every day, we are true, we know the truth. It is the nature of dying, temporary dying. It is a great relief as a human to have this few moments in a day, to retire from the poisonous worldly, completely true to ourselves, justifying every taken steps, every move we have made as an ending to the old barbaric chapter, before awaken to the ornamented new page, new life tomorrow.
1st January 2011
To be a nature myself, I wonder if we are truly close to it. Takes the melting ice cube in the glass of lemonade, in a moment it can dissolve almost instantly and become the perfect lemonade without leaving any trace of it previous existent. The winter ice melted away when the spring wind plays above it surface, bringing to the ideas of rebirth, renewal and regrowth. The ground that covered with ice uncovered just as perfect as the previous season, neither wrinkled by season nor scared by the rush of current that born from the ice itself. If only we could change our anger, regret and pain as fast as the nature (ice cube, winter ice), cleanse our soul perfectly, completely by the stream of consciousness, we would be the master, of all the humble nature. But we are not.
27th December 2010
No superior wednesday,
than any other passing days,
the sky shines with morning grace,
refracted by thousands haze,
one lands on my little chap,
on this ordinary wednesday.
What is left to say, I have said,
the talking have come to end, lets try instead,
one way or another, this should be done,
but first, all matter must be gone.
Hush!, silent all the tunes,
bring something or let assume,
one brain is enough to close the deal,
surely home is there so real.
less talking, more working, stop reasoning, tell the truth!
As one of many devastatingly ugly animals that are a part of nature, that in being a nature itself, toad live humbly, communicate with each other or with the other natures within their territory in the wet, and quietly hiding in the humid and warmth. Their song sing in each passing rain brings warmth through the season, reminding people, devastating in nature, as a sign to at least to prepare an umbrella, to provide shelter. Yet, their beauty in ugliness leave no pity among us, the civilised yet, no awareness to be part of dying nature.
23rd December 2010
This is not a continuation of the beginning;
there is no continuity in it;
in fact there is no beginning at all.
22nd December 2010
