Sebuah pikiran kecil di tengah dunia yang mungil.....
Di dunia yang kecil ini, terkadang kita berpikir, apakah makna orang lain bagi kita? Apakah makna dari seorang teman, sahabat, kekasih, orang tua, adik, kakak, dan posisi-posisi sosial lainnya yang ditentukan berdasarkan hubungan antar sesama manusia? Ada berbagai pendekatan yang bisa dipakai untuk menyikapi hubungan-hubungan seperti ini. Ada yang menanggapi bahwa hubungan antar sesama manusia itu pada dasarnya adalah suatu hubungan yang "diusahakan" untuk saling menguntungkan satu sama lain. Dengan kata lain, jika ada satu atau lebih pihak yang dirugikan, kemungkinan besar hubungan itu akan retak, atau lebih parahnya lagi, hancur. Sehingga, timbul pertanyaan: serapuh itukah hubungan antar sesama manusia?
Jika ditelaah lebih lanjut, jelas sekali jawabannya bahwa manusia, dan hubungan antar sesama manusia, tidak serapuh itu. Bahkan, bisa dikatakan bahwa relasi antar individu itu jauh sekali adanya dari definisi "rapuh". Hubungan antar sesama manusia tidak selalu berdasarkan atas prinsip untung rugi. Seringkali, justru prinsip untung rugi ini seringkali dilanggar oleh para manusia yang bersikukuh bahwa prinsip untung rugi tersebut adalah satu-satunya prinsip dasar manusia, terutama manusia di dunia modern ini. Banyak sekali orang-orang yang dengan sukarela dan bersenang hati mengambil posisi "rugi" dalam hubungan tersebut. Yang menarik, dan sedikit ironis, adalah kesukarelaan orang-orang tersebut sering sekali diragukan oleh para manusia, yang sifat pesimistis dan tidak mudah percayanya sudah melegenda.
Para manusia itu ibarat investor, selalu berusaha hati-hati untuk tidak rugi, dan keuntungan adalah hasil yang wajib diperoleh. Ketika dia mengalami kerugian, dia tidak akan rela untuk jatuh ke lubang yang sama untuk kedua kalinya, karena dia jelas tidak mau dicap sebagai keledai. Dengan orientasi arah yang benar-benar terbatas, manusia hanya bisa melihat dirinya sendiri (itu saja tidak dengan jelas) dan satu loncatan batu setapak yang sudah ada di depannya. Yang mereka tahu hanyalah, ini adalah jalan yang harus saya lalui. Ada beberapa manusia yang merasa bangga, karena mereka bisa melihat sedikit lebih jauh, dan menjadi tahu bahwa mereka tengah berjalan di sebuah jalur yang banyak dilewati orang. Karena manusia juga mempunyai sifat tidak mau kalah dari manusia yang lainnya, dan selalu ingin merasakan bahwa dirinya berbeda dari orang lain (supaya dia bisa benar-benar yakin akan identitas dan eksistensi dirinya), mereka pun mengambil jalan setapak lain yang jarang dilalui. Akan tetapi, apakah mereka tahu, kemanakah jalan setapak yang jarang dilalui itu akan membawa mereka? "Banyak jalan menuju Roma," ucap banyak orang. Yang berarti, masih ada kemungkinan bahwa jalan yang jarang dilalui tersebut ternyata mempunyai tujuan yang sama dengan jalan yang biasa dilalui manusia lainnya. Jika dipikirkan kembali, bukankah ini sesuatu yang cukup absurd, dan menimbulkan senyum geli? Jika hal tersebut tidak menimbulkan senyum geli di wajah anda, saya tidak tahu lagi bagaimana cara membuat anda tertawa.
Singapura, Maret 2005.
Friday, March 18, 2005
Saturday, March 12, 2005
Homo homini lupus
Be Human
A journey into thousands of minds
None are alike, yet all are similar
Searching for a valuable lesson
Amidst the cluttering of informations
A lesson about "humanity"
What does it mean to be "human"?
Is it to think like "human" do?
Is it to feel like "human" do?
Is it to act "humanly"?
The drifts of countless minutes and seconds
In pursue of perfection and total freedom,
Abandoning the fundamental design of "human"
Imperfections and limitations
When the initial design has been far surpassed
A design called "human", which comes together with "humanity"
Are "humans" still "humans"?
What will be the fate of "humanity"?
For truly, what does it mean to be "human"?
What is "humanity" for "human"?
Are we "human"?
Do we have "humanity"?
Dedicated to the Ghost in the Shell Anime, and all of its soundtrack. Title of the poem was taken from one of the Ghost in the Shell album's title, "Be Human."
A journey into thousands of minds
None are alike, yet all are similar
Searching for a valuable lesson
Amidst the cluttering of informations
A lesson about "humanity"
What does it mean to be "human"?
Is it to think like "human" do?
Is it to feel like "human" do?
Is it to act "humanly"?
The drifts of countless minutes and seconds
In pursue of perfection and total freedom,
Abandoning the fundamental design of "human"
Imperfections and limitations
When the initial design has been far surpassed
A design called "human", which comes together with "humanity"
Are "humans" still "humans"?
What will be the fate of "humanity"?
For truly, what does it mean to be "human"?
What is "humanity" for "human"?
Are we "human"?
Do we have "humanity"?
Dedicated to the Ghost in the Shell Anime, and all of its soundtrack. Title of the poem was taken from one of the Ghost in the Shell album's title, "Be Human."
Thursday, February 24, 2005
Even Forever Comes to An End......
Movements of Time
When eternity comes to an end,
Is that the end of time?
When the brittle substance of time,
Frozen in its being,
Starts to collapse,
Will it thaws into a flowing current?
Or will it be shattered as frozen pieces?
The tramps of beings
Taken for granted,
Betrayed from its majestic traits.
As dethroned as it is,
It reigns without a crown.
Who will deny such grandeur?
The time when forever comes to an end
Is not when time comes to an end
It is going to be the time
When it is not the time anymore.
The title of this entry was taken from quote from Chrono Trigger, my personal favourite RPG game. I had this game on 1995, when it came out on SNES. It's a classsic game, and it has a neverending feeling to it. Well, this one poem is dedicated to the game Chrono Trigger itself, and to Time as well.
When eternity comes to an end,
Is that the end of time?
When the brittle substance of time,
Frozen in its being,
Starts to collapse,
Will it thaws into a flowing current?
Or will it be shattered as frozen pieces?
The tramps of beings
Taken for granted,
Betrayed from its majestic traits.
As dethroned as it is,
It reigns without a crown.
Who will deny such grandeur?
The time when forever comes to an end
Is not when time comes to an end
It is going to be the time
When it is not the time anymore.
The title of this entry was taken from quote from Chrono Trigger, my personal favourite RPG game. I had this game on 1995, when it came out on SNES. It's a classsic game, and it has a neverending feeling to it. Well, this one poem is dedicated to the game Chrono Trigger itself, and to Time as well.
Sunday, February 20, 2005
Anger Management
Anger Management
When the poison of anger
Resides in the heart,
What antidote is powerful enough
To cure the disease within?
To keep the poison alone
Will break other's hearts
To vent the anger outside
will breed more seeds of hatred
To release it as tears of sadness
Will extinguish someone's light of happines
What should be done?
How will one able to purify the heart,
so scourged it is,
by the poison of hatred?
Release Thy from Thy agony, dear one...
And Thy shall fly to paradise with Thou
Another one of my poetry, and by the time I write this entry, some surprising people had read my blog, those that I never suspect. Hehehehe.....oh well, just to let you know that any people can freely left their comments here on my blog, so if you want to say something, just left a comment there, ok?
Now, about this piece.....I wrote this one when I was quite angry, I forgot why, and as always, I was fond of putting what I thought and feel at that time to some writing, as I used to be (not now, though). I made some modifications here, compared with the original one, because I felt that some grammars and vocabs is mismatched. Well, just to remind everyone here who read my poetry, that all of my poetry can be said as pieces of my "frozen" memory that I turn into something, so that I might be reminded of it. Well, currently, there's nothing worthy of remembering, so I don't write again, but when I got something, I'll try to write it and share some (not all, of course!) of it to you guys. ahahahaha....now....Gutten Nacht! Oyasumi Nasai!
When the poison of anger
Resides in the heart,
What antidote is powerful enough
To cure the disease within?
To keep the poison alone
Will break other's hearts
To vent the anger outside
will breed more seeds of hatred
To release it as tears of sadness
Will extinguish someone's light of happines
What should be done?
How will one able to purify the heart,
so scourged it is,
by the poison of hatred?
Release Thy from Thy agony, dear one...
And Thy shall fly to paradise with Thou
Another one of my poetry, and by the time I write this entry, some surprising people had read my blog, those that I never suspect. Hehehehe.....oh well, just to let you know that any people can freely left their comments here on my blog, so if you want to say something, just left a comment there, ok?
Now, about this piece.....I wrote this one when I was quite angry, I forgot why, and as always, I was fond of putting what I thought and feel at that time to some writing, as I used to be (not now, though). I made some modifications here, compared with the original one, because I felt that some grammars and vocabs is mismatched. Well, just to remind everyone here who read my poetry, that all of my poetry can be said as pieces of my "frozen" memory that I turn into something, so that I might be reminded of it. Well, currently, there's nothing worthy of remembering, so I don't write again, but when I got something, I'll try to write it and share some (not all, of course!) of it to you guys. ahahahaha....now....Gutten Nacht! Oyasumi Nasai!
Monday, February 14, 2005
Valentine day, and still alone as usual....
Someone Out There
Sitting alone under the full moon, waiting
Will you come?
The night is too perfect to be spent
only with the company of a fine bottle of wine
My mind starts to wander...
A faint trace of your perfume lingers in the air.
And I sighed.
Although I don't know who you are,your presence there is more than enough to keep me accompanied.
Even though you are merely an image that comes from the most perfect of dreams, I will not stop hoping and praying, until your very presence here, is something that I can hold dearly.
Dedicated for the one out there.....
Hahahahaha.....another one of my old poem.......guess that this one comes from the imagination of a lonely man who had too much free time in his hand, and nothing to think about. So.....for all those jomblos out there......let's enjoy our lonely valentine, and just hope that next time will be better.
Sitting alone under the full moon, waiting
Will you come?
The night is too perfect to be spent
only with the company of a fine bottle of wine
My mind starts to wander...
A faint trace of your perfume lingers in the air.
And I sighed.
Although I don't know who you are,your presence there is more than enough to keep me accompanied.
Even though you are merely an image that comes from the most perfect of dreams, I will not stop hoping and praying, until your very presence here, is something that I can hold dearly.
Dedicated for the one out there.....
Hahahahaha.....another one of my old poem.......guess that this one comes from the imagination of a lonely man who had too much free time in his hand, and nothing to think about. So.....for all those jomblos out there......let's enjoy our lonely valentine, and just hope that next time will be better.
Sunday, February 06, 2005
Wandering Traveller, Indonesian Version
Wandering Traveller
I live by the rules of the wind
To breath the air
is to fell my presence
The Sky is my roof,
And the earth is my walking path.
The First crystal of the snow
Will bring me home
To the warmth of the neverending sun
Whenever the symphony of solitude is played,
I will be there.
I am not going to fade away
Not until the tunes of requiem
And the Crying Sky
Accompany me in the journey
A journey of pilgrimage
As a wandering soul.
OK......sorry for the sluggy update, been reading too much manga lately.....and suspending some essays and stuff.....gonna work it tomorrow, I swear!!! >XD
And here it is, the original wandering traveller that I made for one friend that I never met, and probably will never be. We met each other through some prank sms that she sent to my phone accidentally (she was bored at that time, and she sms me at 7 o'clock in a sunday morning), and the rest is history. Quite a friendship, we contacted each other through sms, two lonely souls that need some warmth, but both were unsure about what would happen next. This happened during the period of February/March 2003, until my departure to Singapore, July 2003. I wrote this piece of poetry the night before my departure to Singapore. BTW, we contacted with each other only during the night, because only at night that I was "secure" in my room. Ever since I was in Singapore, I never contacted her anymore. Well, I contacted her via sms again during my first time going back to Indonesia after my first sem, and during that time, I asked for this piece to be sent to me, coz I lost the original one. I never held my hope high, but guess what? She still collected all of my poetry that I sent to her. The period of March 2003 until July 2003 was the period when I was actively writing poetry, something that I think can never be achieved again. And most of the time, she was the first person I sent my poetry to. We share so much, even though we never met each other. I was talking about my highschool crush to her, and she was talking about her ex-boyfriend problems. Both of us are desperate with our love life, and I knew, at that time, that time will change our relationship. And it happened. She confessed to me. I was prepared for the confession, yet, I was unprepared for what to do. I asked her to be friends only, because we had quite a different background (in religion, but not in hometown, since her university is in my father's hometown). And her friends (yes, some of them followed her pranks =.=) told me that whenever she received my sms, she's so happy that they saw her as being "lovestruck", and encourage me to "upgrade" my relationship with her. But then, at that time, I can say that my emotional condition is in one of its most unstable condition. And I cannot think clearly about what will happen next. The funny thing is, after that "memorable event", we still continue our conversation, like nothing had happened between us. I enjoyed my friendship with her very much.
When I come back to Indonesia @July 2004, we found ourselves changed. We are not our old self, and it makes me scared to restart our long lost contact. And thus, I broke our usual sms contact. Singapore has changed me so much, that I barely recognized my old self anymore. Well, being older than me by roughly one year, she stayed the same, but yet, my feelings are changed. I'm no longer my old self, and I'm a total mess at that time (well, it's not like the mess has been fully repaired till now). I broke our contact, and I feel nothing.
Yet, when I open my poetry folder, and read my poetry that I has stored there, I encounter my old feelings, and so on. This poetry reminds me about one of my most precious treasure that I have thrown away like it was nothing, and now, just like everyone, I was terribly sorry for what I did, yet I couldn't change it. I bet she will still feel happy if I contact her right here, right now, yet, I feel that I have wronged her greatly, and I cannot face her anymore. Yes, I am a coward sometimes, and I admit that it was one of my lesser point.
And for one Widi Nugraheni, thanks for being a center for my life at the time when I need something to hold on to. I really enjoy our late night conversation (within my old room and my old handphone, how I miss those two), and one thing that I can tell you: this is one of my strongest poetry that I ever made (the other being the "Wandering Traveller, Singapore Version"), and this is the first, and probably the last, piece of poetry that I have written with so much of my feeling for someone else than myself. I'm terribly sorry for my attitude to you, and now, with my emotionless heart, I bid my farewell to you, forever. Goodbye, and Goodnight, Widi.
I live by the rules of the wind
To breath the air
is to fell my presence
The Sky is my roof,
And the earth is my walking path.
The First crystal of the snow
Will bring me home
To the warmth of the neverending sun
Whenever the symphony of solitude is played,
I will be there.
I am not going to fade away
Not until the tunes of requiem
And the Crying Sky
Accompany me in the journey
A journey of pilgrimage
As a wandering soul.
OK......sorry for the sluggy update, been reading too much manga lately.....and suspending some essays and stuff.....gonna work it tomorrow, I swear!!! >XD
And here it is, the original wandering traveller that I made for one friend that I never met, and probably will never be. We met each other through some prank sms that she sent to my phone accidentally (she was bored at that time, and she sms me at 7 o'clock in a sunday morning), and the rest is history. Quite a friendship, we contacted each other through sms, two lonely souls that need some warmth, but both were unsure about what would happen next. This happened during the period of February/March 2003, until my departure to Singapore, July 2003. I wrote this piece of poetry the night before my departure to Singapore. BTW, we contacted with each other only during the night, because only at night that I was "secure" in my room. Ever since I was in Singapore, I never contacted her anymore. Well, I contacted her via sms again during my first time going back to Indonesia after my first sem, and during that time, I asked for this piece to be sent to me, coz I lost the original one. I never held my hope high, but guess what? She still collected all of my poetry that I sent to her. The period of March 2003 until July 2003 was the period when I was actively writing poetry, something that I think can never be achieved again. And most of the time, she was the first person I sent my poetry to. We share so much, even though we never met each other. I was talking about my highschool crush to her, and she was talking about her ex-boyfriend problems. Both of us are desperate with our love life, and I knew, at that time, that time will change our relationship. And it happened. She confessed to me. I was prepared for the confession, yet, I was unprepared for what to do. I asked her to be friends only, because we had quite a different background (in religion, but not in hometown, since her university is in my father's hometown). And her friends (yes, some of them followed her pranks =.=) told me that whenever she received my sms, she's so happy that they saw her as being "lovestruck", and encourage me to "upgrade" my relationship with her. But then, at that time, I can say that my emotional condition is in one of its most unstable condition. And I cannot think clearly about what will happen next. The funny thing is, after that "memorable event", we still continue our conversation, like nothing had happened between us. I enjoyed my friendship with her very much.
When I come back to Indonesia @July 2004, we found ourselves changed. We are not our old self, and it makes me scared to restart our long lost contact. And thus, I broke our usual sms contact. Singapore has changed me so much, that I barely recognized my old self anymore. Well, being older than me by roughly one year, she stayed the same, but yet, my feelings are changed. I'm no longer my old self, and I'm a total mess at that time (well, it's not like the mess has been fully repaired till now). I broke our contact, and I feel nothing.
Yet, when I open my poetry folder, and read my poetry that I has stored there, I encounter my old feelings, and so on. This poetry reminds me about one of my most precious treasure that I have thrown away like it was nothing, and now, just like everyone, I was terribly sorry for what I did, yet I couldn't change it. I bet she will still feel happy if I contact her right here, right now, yet, I feel that I have wronged her greatly, and I cannot face her anymore. Yes, I am a coward sometimes, and I admit that it was one of my lesser point.
And for one Widi Nugraheni, thanks for being a center for my life at the time when I need something to hold on to. I really enjoy our late night conversation (within my old room and my old handphone, how I miss those two), and one thing that I can tell you: this is one of my strongest poetry that I ever made (the other being the "Wandering Traveller, Singapore Version"), and this is the first, and probably the last, piece of poetry that I have written with so much of my feeling for someone else than myself. I'm terribly sorry for my attitude to you, and now, with my emotionless heart, I bid my farewell to you, forever. Goodbye, and Goodnight, Widi.
Thursday, February 03, 2005
Wandering Travellers, Singapore version
Wandering Travellers
I live by the rules of the winds
I will go wherever I will go
As long as my feet threads the Earth
And my gaze is fixed upon the Sky
I will never lost
In this world of virtue
If there is someone waiting for me
I will tell my story
Through the songs of the birds
And the symphony of the fallen leaves
And if I ever come home
It will be the day
Of the first snow
The day of the warmth
In the middle of the family.
hahahahaha....this one is actually the singaporean version of a piece I made in Indo, but I forgot about the wordings when I came to singapore. but thx to one of my friend (well, the one I give the original piece to), I was able to recover the Indonesian one. Thus, the two versions of Wandering Travellers.
This poetry was made because of my anxiety when I was going to singapore for my study. you can say that before going to singapore, I never go to foreign country, except, singapore, and that's only twice in my whole life before my uni life. :p
I live by the rules of the winds
I will go wherever I will go
As long as my feet threads the Earth
And my gaze is fixed upon the Sky
I will never lost
In this world of virtue
If there is someone waiting for me
I will tell my story
Through the songs of the birds
And the symphony of the fallen leaves
And if I ever come home
It will be the day
Of the first snow
The day of the warmth
In the middle of the family.
hahahahaha....this one is actually the singaporean version of a piece I made in Indo, but I forgot about the wordings when I came to singapore. but thx to one of my friend (well, the one I give the original piece to), I was able to recover the Indonesian one. Thus, the two versions of Wandering Travellers.
This poetry was made because of my anxiety when I was going to singapore for my study. you can say that before going to singapore, I never go to foreign country, except, singapore, and that's only twice in my whole life before my uni life. :p
Wednesday, February 02, 2005
Singing in the rain.....
Rains and Clouds
Walking beneath the rains
Trying to find the light
Through the cloudy mind of mine
Making sense of nonsense
Calming the chaos
That rages and aches
Salvos of questions
Bombarding the head
Which content's no longer there
Trying to be strong
Dragging the feet
To the final destination
With the final breath
All things undone
Will be concluded
In the end of the path
Rest awaits the body
Sleep into eternal peace
Ok.....I think I will post all of my poetry that rest within my poetry folder, and make it as a poetry rally until there's no more poetry left sitting in my folder. I started this one from 2 days ago, so.......enjoy.
Walking beneath the rains
Trying to find the light
Through the cloudy mind of mine
Making sense of nonsense
Calming the chaos
That rages and aches
Salvos of questions
Bombarding the head
Which content's no longer there
Trying to be strong
Dragging the feet
To the final destination
With the final breath
All things undone
Will be concluded
In the end of the path
Rest awaits the body
Sleep into eternal peace
Ok.....I think I will post all of my poetry that rest within my poetry folder, and make it as a poetry rally until there's no more poetry left sitting in my folder. I started this one from 2 days ago, so.......enjoy.
Tuesday, February 01, 2005
Marriage Poetry
The Journey to the Road
It is the day
We promise each other
To stand together
And walk our path together
It is from that day
We join our hearts and souls
Embracing each other
In moments of tears and laughters
Filling the special place
That was destined in each other's soul
Adding the missing pieces
That was eternally sought after
It is not going to be a smooth road
It is not going to be like a dream
It is not going to be that simple
It is not going to be that easy
But then, we have each other
We have each other to lend our shoulders
We have each other to lend our ears
We have each other to lend our hands
We have everything to share
Because from that day,
We are one.
Ok2, this is what I write when the certain someone that I mention earlier ask me to write a piece of poetry for one of her relatives' wedding celebration. It is sad that this piece was forgotten by both of us, and thus, is not delivered to the one it should be intended to. However, some people said that this one is real nice. LOL, I have the talent to be a charmer, yet, I enjoy being a common man.
It is the day
We promise each other
To stand together
And walk our path together
It is from that day
We join our hearts and souls
Embracing each other
In moments of tears and laughters
Filling the special place
That was destined in each other's soul
Adding the missing pieces
That was eternally sought after
It is not going to be a smooth road
It is not going to be like a dream
It is not going to be that simple
It is not going to be that easy
But then, we have each other
We have each other to lend our shoulders
We have each other to lend our ears
We have each other to lend our hands
We have everything to share
Because from that day,
We are one.
Ok2, this is what I write when the certain someone that I mention earlier ask me to write a piece of poetry for one of her relatives' wedding celebration. It is sad that this piece was forgotten by both of us, and thus, is not delivered to the one it should be intended to. However, some people said that this one is real nice. LOL, I have the talent to be a charmer, yet, I enjoy being a common man.
Monday, January 31, 2005
Hope and Dreams
Hope and Dreams
Trying to fly to the moon
When the feet are planted
to the ground
Halfway to the eternity of thoughts
When the body lives
in the world of virtue
Standing against
the rising tides of destiny
with mere strength of will
Humans
Small in their nature
Raised as the giants
Of the world
So grandeur,
yet so frail
Hardly soar from the ground
Only to fall
To the deepest abyss
There is no wings to fly with
Only dreams and hopes
to send them to fly away
Dreams are the wings
Hopes are the winds
One of the poetry that I made during my first sem in NUS. I have stopped writing ever since sem 2 begins. It's sem 4, and there's a doubt in my heart, whether I should start writing poetry again. After all, I have lost my "artistic heart", with which I spoke my minds, thougts, and heart with. Maybe I'll start writing again, when I'm in the mood of writing poetry, and not when I was obliged to write one.
On a related note, I think I can start posting some of my poetry here......Some that were never seen before, but by myself and one other person......
Trying to fly to the moon
When the feet are planted
to the ground
Halfway to the eternity of thoughts
When the body lives
in the world of virtue
Standing against
the rising tides of destiny
with mere strength of will
Humans
Small in their nature
Raised as the giants
Of the world
So grandeur,
yet so frail
Hardly soar from the ground
Only to fall
To the deepest abyss
There is no wings to fly with
Only dreams and hopes
to send them to fly away
Dreams are the wings
Hopes are the winds
One of the poetry that I made during my first sem in NUS. I have stopped writing ever since sem 2 begins. It's sem 4, and there's a doubt in my heart, whether I should start writing poetry again. After all, I have lost my "artistic heart", with which I spoke my minds, thougts, and heart with. Maybe I'll start writing again, when I'm in the mood of writing poetry, and not when I was obliged to write one.
On a related note, I think I can start posting some of my poetry here......Some that were never seen before, but by myself and one other person......
Monday, January 17, 2005
Heat, Fan, and Comfort
As I lazing off
In the comfortable heat wave
The whirling of the fan
Accompany me as a background sound
Some jazzy tunes in both ears
And a good book to read about
What is unfavourable by many people
Were made heaven by self
A picture comes into mind
The image of elders, lazing off
In the same heat wave, but somewhere else
No doubt, enjoying the same weather
While one contemplates what has passed,
The other contemplates about what has to come
Just like the soothing wind of the summer
Away she comes, away she goes.
In the comfortable heat wave
The whirling of the fan
Accompany me as a background sound
Some jazzy tunes in both ears
And a good book to read about
What is unfavourable by many people
Were made heaven by self
A picture comes into mind
The image of elders, lazing off
In the same heat wave, but somewhere else
No doubt, enjoying the same weather
While one contemplates what has passed,
The other contemplates about what has to come
Just like the soothing wind of the summer
Away she comes, away she goes.
Friday, January 14, 2005
Usual moody thoughts accompanied by jazzy tunes
Beauty is Within Us
Vocal: Scott Matthew
Words: Chris Mosdell
Music: Yoko Kanno
O mother dear
Look what you've done
To your forlorn and once beloved son
Why was I born at all?
O mother dear
I'm such a freak
A mutant man, a woman underneath
Why was I born at all?
It's you I blame for all the shame
This anguish and this aching
The mirror turned against the wall
Myself despised, forsaken
*You say, "Beauty is within us, your mother knows"
"There's a beauty that's within us, just like a rose"
You say, "Beauty is within us, so let it grow"
But it's grown so dark and ugly
O mother dear
I curse you so
For breathing life into your wretched son
Why were you born at all?
O mother dear
I love you so
O please forgive this anger in my soul
Without you I'm alone
It's me who's been eternally damned
Trapped inside this cage, a ruined man
All damaged and depraved
O mother dear
This misery
Has settled like a stain upon my skin
-a vast unspoken sin
And my mistake is much too late
But your mistake was trusting
That out of grief, a goodness comes
And love comes out of lusting
*repeat
You say, "Beauty is within us, your mother knows"
"There's a beauty that's within us, just like a rose"
You say, "Beauty is within us, so let it grow"
But it's grown so dark I can not see you anymore
"O beauty is within us, mother knows"
"O beauty is within us, like a rose"
"O beauty is within us, let it grow"
O mother dear, let me out of here!
quite a nice song, when you're being depressed....although the lyrics can be explosive and provoking for some, I quite like this song......the song mirrors the anguish, desperation, and longing that one usually experienced when one wants someone to pull themselves from a hellhole, because they have tried for so hard, that they have no energy left to climb the hole. It reminds us about the fragility of human soul, how it can break easier than how a glass will shatter....
Just finished reading Da Vinci Code. Quite interested on reading that book, since it's been mentioned by almost all people as being anti-christ. When it was mentioned by my visiting mother, my interest starts to spark along. It is quite rare that my mother said that I was not allowed to read one books, because I was deemed not mature enough to accept the concept that might be accentuated from the book.
She would be surprised.
In my journey of manga reading, it is not unusual for me to read one or more pieces of manga which is way more anti-christianity, and more shocking than those of Da Vinci Codes. It seems that for some people, christianity is something that was "imperfect", that is, full of deceit and other bad things unthinkable for the christianity. In the mangas, human is always the victor over gods and devils. Quite cocky for human, as ever. Human pride will be something that make them falls. What is interesting about the manga is that they depict gods and devils as humanly at heart as possible, discounting the deity characteristic of those gods and devils. There are usual moments of confusion, as the writer of the story will have it, upon differentiating between the good and the bad, the white and the black. Sometimes you just can't help but questioning yourself, what is good, and what is bad?
Good and bad, white and black. Truth and deceit, purity and desecration. Which one is which? Each one of them, if viewed in subjective manner, will be very biased (i.e. being subjective). But what if they can be viewed in objective manner? What will the view will be? Now, after some consideration, I decided that we, humans, will never be able to comment upon things in an objective manner. When humans try to be objective, they found themselves limited by theirselves, they can only simulate what they think others might think. Why is that so? Each human is unique in their own way, that is, there is no single condition that will be the same for each human to grow with, not to mention their basic personality to start with. Just like in a microbiology laboratorium, if the culture is conditioned differently, the microbes will also grow differently, the same goes to human.
So, as I might confuse any reader of this blog, what is the relation between the song, the book I read upon, the manga, and the sociology analysis (I presume I had done so for the paragraph above, pardon me, for I don't have any sociology lesson ever)? Upon search for truth, which every human is compelled to do at one point of their life or another, they have one emotional condition that appears in their heart: a despair that their so-called truth that they are searching and longing for, are quite withing their grasp, but the truth refuse to be seached and longed for. Humans will exhaust all means to grasp the truth for themselves (particular egocentricity of human, one may add), that they are confused. The despair, as one can see within the lyrics of the song, is quite a heavy burden. At that time, white is not white anymore, and black is not black anymore. Both are twisted into a new colour: grey. People often said that the world is not black, and it is not white either, but it is grey. Upon consideration, others might think that grey is not the sole truth, for there is no sole truth, as was depicted earlier with the black and white metaphor. Then, what is grey? Is it the truth grasped by most people, and claimed to be the one and only truth, or is it only the tip of the iceberg of deceit?
In conclusion of this lengthy essay (or blog, it is for the reader to decide), the writer come by one conclusion, which has been a personal quote for the writer ever since.
"There is nothing absolute, including this very own statement."
Good evening.
Vocal: Scott Matthew
Words: Chris Mosdell
Music: Yoko Kanno
O mother dear
Look what you've done
To your forlorn and once beloved son
Why was I born at all?
O mother dear
I'm such a freak
A mutant man, a woman underneath
Why was I born at all?
It's you I blame for all the shame
This anguish and this aching
The mirror turned against the wall
Myself despised, forsaken
*You say, "Beauty is within us, your mother knows"
"There's a beauty that's within us, just like a rose"
You say, "Beauty is within us, so let it grow"
But it's grown so dark and ugly
O mother dear
I curse you so
For breathing life into your wretched son
Why were you born at all?
O mother dear
I love you so
O please forgive this anger in my soul
Without you I'm alone
It's me who's been eternally damned
Trapped inside this cage, a ruined man
All damaged and depraved
O mother dear
This misery
Has settled like a stain upon my skin
-a vast unspoken sin
And my mistake is much too late
But your mistake was trusting
That out of grief, a goodness comes
And love comes out of lusting
*repeat
You say, "Beauty is within us, your mother knows"
"There's a beauty that's within us, just like a rose"
You say, "Beauty is within us, so let it grow"
But it's grown so dark I can not see you anymore
"O beauty is within us, mother knows"
"O beauty is within us, like a rose"
"O beauty is within us, let it grow"
O mother dear, let me out of here!
quite a nice song, when you're being depressed....although the lyrics can be explosive and provoking for some, I quite like this song......the song mirrors the anguish, desperation, and longing that one usually experienced when one wants someone to pull themselves from a hellhole, because they have tried for so hard, that they have no energy left to climb the hole. It reminds us about the fragility of human soul, how it can break easier than how a glass will shatter....
Just finished reading Da Vinci Code. Quite interested on reading that book, since it's been mentioned by almost all people as being anti-christ. When it was mentioned by my visiting mother, my interest starts to spark along. It is quite rare that my mother said that I was not allowed to read one books, because I was deemed not mature enough to accept the concept that might be accentuated from the book.
She would be surprised.
In my journey of manga reading, it is not unusual for me to read one or more pieces of manga which is way more anti-christianity, and more shocking than those of Da Vinci Codes. It seems that for some people, christianity is something that was "imperfect", that is, full of deceit and other bad things unthinkable for the christianity. In the mangas, human is always the victor over gods and devils. Quite cocky for human, as ever. Human pride will be something that make them falls. What is interesting about the manga is that they depict gods and devils as humanly at heart as possible, discounting the deity characteristic of those gods and devils. There are usual moments of confusion, as the writer of the story will have it, upon differentiating between the good and the bad, the white and the black. Sometimes you just can't help but questioning yourself, what is good, and what is bad?
Good and bad, white and black. Truth and deceit, purity and desecration. Which one is which? Each one of them, if viewed in subjective manner, will be very biased (i.e. being subjective). But what if they can be viewed in objective manner? What will the view will be? Now, after some consideration, I decided that we, humans, will never be able to comment upon things in an objective manner. When humans try to be objective, they found themselves limited by theirselves, they can only simulate what they think others might think. Why is that so? Each human is unique in their own way, that is, there is no single condition that will be the same for each human to grow with, not to mention their basic personality to start with. Just like in a microbiology laboratorium, if the culture is conditioned differently, the microbes will also grow differently, the same goes to human.
So, as I might confuse any reader of this blog, what is the relation between the song, the book I read upon, the manga, and the sociology analysis (I presume I had done so for the paragraph above, pardon me, for I don't have any sociology lesson ever)? Upon search for truth, which every human is compelled to do at one point of their life or another, they have one emotional condition that appears in their heart: a despair that their so-called truth that they are searching and longing for, are quite withing their grasp, but the truth refuse to be seached and longed for. Humans will exhaust all means to grasp the truth for themselves (particular egocentricity of human, one may add), that they are confused. The despair, as one can see within the lyrics of the song, is quite a heavy burden. At that time, white is not white anymore, and black is not black anymore. Both are twisted into a new colour: grey. People often said that the world is not black, and it is not white either, but it is grey. Upon consideration, others might think that grey is not the sole truth, for there is no sole truth, as was depicted earlier with the black and white metaphor. Then, what is grey? Is it the truth grasped by most people, and claimed to be the one and only truth, or is it only the tip of the iceberg of deceit?
In conclusion of this lengthy essay (or blog, it is for the reader to decide), the writer come by one conclusion, which has been a personal quote for the writer ever since.
"There is nothing absolute, including this very own statement."
Good evening.
Thursday, January 06, 2005
Quite an eventful christmas and new year....
Whew.....suddenly I have an obligation to write on my blog. Ok, Christmas is over, and I'm quite stuffed with some new things in my room, notably my new mp3 player and my new digicam. The mp3 player was bought by my mom (indirectly) as a birthday present (over 1 month, but it's ok, coz it's the present that I want >:D). As for the digicam, I bought it with my birthday present money from 3 persons (my grandma from my father's side, and 2 of my aunts.) lolz....I never dreamt that I will have those 2 things. Yes, I have done some research a long time ago about what digicam and mp3 player I will buy if I can buy it, but it's not that serious. You can say that in fact, I'm not all that enthusiastic. But well, a digicam is still a digicam, an mp3 player is still an mp3 player, and happiness is still happiness.
Ah, one more thing that made my X-mas is even more beautiful compared with last year's extremely crappy X-mas. My CAP (GPA for some person) increased from 1.97 to 2.21. This means that I'm no longer in danger of being dropped out from the university. Well, actually, the grade can be better, but I'm quite thankful for C+ for one of my module and C for another one, considering that I never came to the lecture, and I only managed to learn the materials only the night before midterms and final exams. No D for this semester, which is the first one after 2 last semester. Dunno whether I can get to honours year, what with all my crappy results and so on. It seems to me that with my current direction, it is highly likely that I will never work as a researcher for life science (my major), since, quite shockingly, I find it as too limiting for my taste. My current interest is going back to things like history, psychology, etc. Maybe mathematics, if I'm not lazy enough to open back those books.
It is nice to know that slowly, I return to my old self, a personality that I have prepared long before to face adulthood, back when I'm still an ignorant adolescent that has the perception that the whole world is his, and he can do anything in this world at his own whim. I miss those times, especially at current times, since like what I have written somewhere on my short blogs, I have forgotten a lot of important things, and this is one of them. My 1.5 year in NUS has made my timid and inconfident, lazy as hell, unconcerned about myself, etc. It is not the perfect personality that I have visioned and crafted on my earlier stages of life (i.e. at secondary school and first half of high school). Just like water, I am currently on someone's glass, waiting to be drunk, and sorely misses the times when I'm still on the raging river that will goes to the calm sea.
Ah, one more thing that made my X-mas is even more beautiful compared with last year's extremely crappy X-mas. My CAP (GPA for some person) increased from 1.97 to 2.21. This means that I'm no longer in danger of being dropped out from the university. Well, actually, the grade can be better, but I'm quite thankful for C+ for one of my module and C for another one, considering that I never came to the lecture, and I only managed to learn the materials only the night before midterms and final exams. No D for this semester, which is the first one after 2 last semester. Dunno whether I can get to honours year, what with all my crappy results and so on. It seems to me that with my current direction, it is highly likely that I will never work as a researcher for life science (my major), since, quite shockingly, I find it as too limiting for my taste. My current interest is going back to things like history, psychology, etc. Maybe mathematics, if I'm not lazy enough to open back those books.
It is nice to know that slowly, I return to my old self, a personality that I have prepared long before to face adulthood, back when I'm still an ignorant adolescent that has the perception that the whole world is his, and he can do anything in this world at his own whim. I miss those times, especially at current times, since like what I have written somewhere on my short blogs, I have forgotten a lot of important things, and this is one of them. My 1.5 year in NUS has made my timid and inconfident, lazy as hell, unconcerned about myself, etc. It is not the perfect personality that I have visioned and crafted on my earlier stages of life (i.e. at secondary school and first half of high school). Just like water, I am currently on someone's glass, waiting to be drunk, and sorely misses the times when I'm still on the raging river that will goes to the calm sea.
Monday, December 20, 2004
4th Update
The journey to the northwest
To the foreign land
Not as a castaway, yet feeling like one
Not as a runaway, yet feeling like one
In the new promised land
Time moves no differently
The past on the old land
Forgotten with the passing of time
However, is it to be forgotten?
Shouldn't it be remembered instead?
With all the power of the mind?
For oneself is in one's past?
What is there to build for tomorrow,
If there is no foundation to build upon?
What is there for the newborn soul,
If there is nothing to return to?
Longing for companion,
But is companion, what one seeks for?
Longing for self-assurance,
But is self assurance, what one needs?
What lies in one's fate?
When will one stops questioning,
And follow the drifting raft,
Guided by the flow of nature?
Dancing under the vastness of the sky
Won't one feel as insignificant as one can be?
If one is insignificant,
Then will one worthy of questioning one's self?
Never seek the answer
For there are no answer
One's self is an answer
For an unknown question
C.B.I.
Notes: Now I just remember that my poem almost never have any title. I think that when I start giving title to my poem, I limit myself and the poem itself. When one has no title, one is free, and this is what I intend to be. For I am a ronin, who has forgotten the flow of the waves.
To the foreign land
Not as a castaway, yet feeling like one
Not as a runaway, yet feeling like one
In the new promised land
Time moves no differently
The past on the old land
Forgotten with the passing of time
However, is it to be forgotten?
Shouldn't it be remembered instead?
With all the power of the mind?
For oneself is in one's past?
What is there to build for tomorrow,
If there is no foundation to build upon?
What is there for the newborn soul,
If there is nothing to return to?
Longing for companion,
But is companion, what one seeks for?
Longing for self-assurance,
But is self assurance, what one needs?
What lies in one's fate?
When will one stops questioning,
And follow the drifting raft,
Guided by the flow of nature?
Dancing under the vastness of the sky
Won't one feel as insignificant as one can be?
If one is insignificant,
Then will one worthy of questioning one's self?
Never seek the answer
For there are no answer
One's self is an answer
For an unknown question
C.B.I.
Notes: Now I just remember that my poem almost never have any title. I think that when I start giving title to my poem, I limit myself and the poem itself. When one has no title, one is free, and this is what I intend to be. For I am a ronin, who has forgotten the flow of the waves.
Wednesday, December 15, 2004
Memoires
Actually, I want to try to start writing poem again. It's been such a long time ago, that I forgot how to write. Well, Suddenly, tonight I want to write something about memories, but I'm facing a writer's block. So, I open my poetry folder in my laptop, and guess what I found there:
Memoires
Standing there,
On the end of the line
watching all those memories
Our memories
It is not always sweet
Even it is bitter sometimes
What is bitter,
Will be forgiven within time
But it will never be forgotten
For the lessons imposed
Will always worth remembering
But what is sweet,
We will always remember it
With fondness and love
They will never fade away
Sometimes,
We may look like we have no future
Other times,
We may look like there is no tomorrow
Life is funny, isn't it?
It revolves in a circle
An unbroken circle, unless severed
But then,
For every single thing
That has been broken,
There will always be a chance
To repair it, isn't it?
The chance is in our hands
That, my friend, is what is worth remembering.
I forgot when did I write this piece. But, oh well, there you go. Enjoy, and hopefully this poetry will have some special meaning for everyone who read this one.
Memoires
Standing there,
On the end of the line
watching all those memories
Our memories
It is not always sweet
Even it is bitter sometimes
What is bitter,
Will be forgiven within time
But it will never be forgotten
For the lessons imposed
Will always worth remembering
But what is sweet,
We will always remember it
With fondness and love
They will never fade away
Sometimes,
We may look like we have no future
Other times,
We may look like there is no tomorrow
Life is funny, isn't it?
It revolves in a circle
An unbroken circle, unless severed
But then,
For every single thing
That has been broken,
There will always be a chance
To repair it, isn't it?
The chance is in our hands
That, my friend, is what is worth remembering.
I forgot when did I write this piece. But, oh well, there you go. Enjoy, and hopefully this poetry will have some special meaning for everyone who read this one.
Short, medium, and long term memory loss
From the beginning of this semester, I feel like I'm starting to remember everything that happens throughout my life for 19 years. It is not that long, mind you, but after all those flashback, I DO notice one thing: my memory is currently working terribly bad. I mean, I'm known of having a good, if not sharp, memory, and I'm forgetting almost everything, ever since I come to Singapore. God knows that this might be the side effect of reading too many manga, playing too many games, not learning at all, barely socializing with people, etc. Basically, I guess I haven't stimulate my brain enough, that my memory seems to be seeping out of my brain. Well, at least I should be thankful that I have started to recollect some of them.
I just feel that it is kinda funny that I forgot those things. From my recollected memory, I remember that I wanted to treasure those memories. Or rather, I wanted to treasure the feelings that I felt at that time. For those reading these, it's not about love or anything, mind you. I guess, it's more like I'm searching pieces of myself through pieces of memories that I have lost. Somehow, when I think about it, the current "me" is very different from the past "me". Sure, people change, but people won't change in such a drastic manner that they forgot about their past.
Well, we can say that I'm a bit confused on my self-identity. It seems that the current "me" is just a mask that I used once upon a time ago. Just like those stories in the manga, I guess the mask has either replace my own face, or the mask has gain its own personality, and it replace my identity without me knowing it, until now. I just can't shake the feeling that what I have lost, are many, and they all are important for me. It is the feeling of those moments, that I miss the most. I just can hope that those pieces of memory will come back to me, slowly but surely.
I just feel that it is kinda funny that I forgot those things. From my recollected memory, I remember that I wanted to treasure those memories. Or rather, I wanted to treasure the feelings that I felt at that time. For those reading these, it's not about love or anything, mind you. I guess, it's more like I'm searching pieces of myself through pieces of memories that I have lost. Somehow, when I think about it, the current "me" is very different from the past "me". Sure, people change, but people won't change in such a drastic manner that they forgot about their past.
Well, we can say that I'm a bit confused on my self-identity. It seems that the current "me" is just a mask that I used once upon a time ago. Just like those stories in the manga, I guess the mask has either replace my own face, or the mask has gain its own personality, and it replace my identity without me knowing it, until now. I just can't shake the feeling that what I have lost, are many, and they all are important for me. It is the feeling of those moments, that I miss the most. I just can hope that those pieces of memory will come back to me, slowly but surely.
Monday, December 06, 2004
My First posting
First posting, 2nd blog. Never update the 1st blog, coz I'm too lazy to do so. Bwahahahahaha!!!! >:) Well, just know that one of my friends has her blog here, and the template kinda cool, so, what the heck, I'll give it a shot. Well, if anyone is reading this, then expect an irregular update, since I'm one hell of a lazy bastard.
Ok, for my 1st posting, what should I write? hm........
I'm quite inspired by my friend's blog. Her blog were made with quotes from books, etc. Those quotes are inspiring, indeed. But earlier, at the younger point in my life, maybe at grade 11 in my high school, I have decided: I'm quite sick of people quoting other's work. It's OK to quote them to a certain extent, especially if those quotes meant very much to you. (No offense to anybody reading this, esp. to the owner of the blog mentioned earlier m(___)m ). For once, when I'm still cocky enough in my high school, I decided that I want to make my own quotes, that I will use for myself only. Yep. Talking bout originality. But with the flow of time, with my unbelievable lazyness, I realize that I don't want to write them down. On some part, I feel kinda shy to myself if I ever going to read my own quotes, because I'm going to realize how hypocrite I am compared with my own ideals. But, on the other hand, some of my home-made quotes really does make sense to my own mind (and it is perfectly applicable), that it settles around.
Some of my home-made quotes:
- "There is nothing absolute, including this very statement." Anyone care to cipher this one?
- "A wilted rose is still a rose." I made this one prior to my own imagination over some raping matter. In real life, sometimes raped girls, or some pregnant pre-married teenagers are facing a hard time in this wretched society. Some said that they are not impure anymore, etc. etc. If you did take notice, another word for "losing virginity" is defloration. So what? Some of these gal are persecuted by the society, only for something like that (with exception to some sex-crazed b****). They are impure, they are the wilted flower, and they are the pariah of the society. Well, sometimes I'm quite angry over this alienation problem. Once upon a time, I notice something about flowers: even detached rose petals are sometimes called rose, incidentally. And then, click. "A detached rose petal, is still a rose." "A wilted rose, is still a rose." LOL, maybe it's funny to hear this one from a guy like me, but well, anybody is free for thinking anything, rite?
Hm....guess I have written more than what I intend to write......Well, this will mark my first post in this blog. Just pray that I will frequently update this blog, unlike my other blog. Ciao.
Ok, for my 1st posting, what should I write? hm........
I'm quite inspired by my friend's blog. Her blog were made with quotes from books, etc. Those quotes are inspiring, indeed. But earlier, at the younger point in my life, maybe at grade 11 in my high school, I have decided: I'm quite sick of people quoting other's work. It's OK to quote them to a certain extent, especially if those quotes meant very much to you. (No offense to anybody reading this, esp. to the owner of the blog mentioned earlier m(___)m ). For once, when I'm still cocky enough in my high school, I decided that I want to make my own quotes, that I will use for myself only. Yep. Talking bout originality. But with the flow of time, with my unbelievable lazyness, I realize that I don't want to write them down. On some part, I feel kinda shy to myself if I ever going to read my own quotes, because I'm going to realize how hypocrite I am compared with my own ideals. But, on the other hand, some of my home-made quotes really does make sense to my own mind (and it is perfectly applicable), that it settles around.
Some of my home-made quotes:
- "There is nothing absolute, including this very statement." Anyone care to cipher this one?
- "A wilted rose is still a rose." I made this one prior to my own imagination over some raping matter. In real life, sometimes raped girls, or some pregnant pre-married teenagers are facing a hard time in this wretched society. Some said that they are not impure anymore, etc. etc. If you did take notice, another word for "losing virginity" is defloration. So what? Some of these gal are persecuted by the society, only for something like that (with exception to some sex-crazed b****). They are impure, they are the wilted flower, and they are the pariah of the society. Well, sometimes I'm quite angry over this alienation problem. Once upon a time, I notice something about flowers: even detached rose petals are sometimes called rose, incidentally. And then, click. "A detached rose petal, is still a rose." "A wilted rose, is still a rose." LOL, maybe it's funny to hear this one from a guy like me, but well, anybody is free for thinking anything, rite?
Hm....guess I have written more than what I intend to write......Well, this will mark my first post in this blog. Just pray that I will frequently update this blog, unlike my other blog. Ciao.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)