La playa. Barcelonetta.
water that separates the north and the south.

Photo by Ov

Saing tak Perlu

Kami akan bertengkar
tentang siapa paling apa
Kudijatuhi air terjun
segar
tapi sihir niagra
mengharuskan mata memeta kristal titik air
Ia dengan tetesan darah hitam
menggelembungi nadi
menyerta hari tiada henti
kami akan bertengkar
tentang siapa paling apa
tapi
kulontar akan asa menenangkan
dia semata agar aku tahu
dia paling apa

Assuredness and Calmness

Four women with the same interest
Sat on a box, heading north and south
Their man sat heading to the north
one foot in front of
Women with the similar direction as the man were calm.
The others emitted a fully highly streoed volume
The one, thogh stringy, felt secure and did not need to work hard now
since assuredly they will ride together on Australian winter
Still, some seconds
glimpsed over
just to check him
who sat with the next them

and it wasn't just one pair
it's
four women with the same interest

Men and Loneliness

Men (meaning: guys) like loneliness a lot
Men like hymns
They like silent enhancing ambiance
Men like the emptiness of the world
Over Consciously
Salience so they can contemplate deeply
and realize
nothing awaits them before eyes
because women will always agree
Kept on the black box happily
with their neck bends and ogles the dust and keep on smiling
while he can proceed
enjoying the loneliness
into the deep night
and not even cry

attended a talkshow, with Rp.5.000,00 entrance, which was so expensive for FIB seminars, and got these words from Rudy Soedjarwo:


"When you feel critics are everywhere and they're getting harder, it means you're on top. You need to be on the toppest position to be criticized heartily."

digest, people. Digest.

My recent blabs in "about me" in Friendster:

About Me:mahasiswa yang sedang bekutat mencari korpus spiritualitas di New York demi skripsi yang bab satu aja belum kelar, di saat teman-temannya sudah yakin dengan kajian jazz, homosexuality, drama anti feminis, dan cinta-nya Toni Morisson.

Recently tune in to Janji Joni soundtrack (all of them) and Franz Ferdinandas a desperate relieving self-method to find a satisffying enough replacement for SUEDE. ah... and enjoy seeing t.A.T.u new videos. They're goddamn hot, don't you think?Slandering over Che Guevarra posters sold on Kober till Barri Gothic for its so called patriarchal image. Found the truth by watching Motorcycle Diaries.

Why oh Why...they should put a man with cigarette, killer hat, wild mid length hair, and unshaved face EVERYWHERE. while he also had the times when he seems so delicate, subtle, yet robust in heart.no need to be wild looking guys to prove that you're a guy.

humm
just a thought
no serious consideration taken,
please :)

January 20th 2006
Jakarta, my room.

I had to think of what should I wear for this afternoon, for no jeans left in the drawer. All favorites still well-packed in my black suitcase. Decided to wear the purple skirt. It had embroideries of darker purple in flower form, lining from the tip vertically towards the middle of it. And as my skirt wove into the taxi that brought me home and as I slipped off my 7 hours worn black top and changed it into a white loose t-shirt, thought bout things happpend today, with Bella Pollen's Hunting Unicorns by my side. More heartily, all those jazzy from Cosmopolitan FM on this Friday night. I pressed my abstract heart and push my eyelids hardily towards my eyes. Significantly trying to erect some eyedrop. And when the songs even cut my skin and walked steadily with my blood rhymes, I could not even cry.

come on, cry!

What for?

You have no one whose lips can be pressed with your emotion

So?

You must have to be sad

But I'm not

But you want to be sad

Yes. I've been trying. But I can't

Call for some help. You can't cry.

January 14th 2006
on a train from Koln to Hannover


Portrait of STOP and other German novels realized. Full moon swam in between black bluish monochromic sky, with whithe transparent cutton of scrapped clouds. Grey bricked houses, mounted roofs under leafless trees, which branches you can see them dry and brown. Meranggas. Tought accompanied by blond little girl with a pony tail, walkman and bunch of plastics withe chocolate candies and marshmellow in it. I even could smell it from afar, a yuppielike. You know, those strawberry creamed and sugared candies. Missed my lil bro, hadn't bought a plane miniature for him. I considered 10 eiros for an aerlingus miniature was too expensive.

Remembered the guys in the Guest Home. Paul and Matthew, and one Irish exceptional guy, as the house's attendant. Too bad that I'm not an open person for new guys. Seiing couples kissed in Catalunya or Passeig de Gracia station, or good bye hugs in Koln Bonn airport. Felt warm, lustless.

I don't remember the last time I saw hunger for lust looks from people on Jakarta or Depok streets. Probably, if my country just let people release their anthusiasm of love and UI didn't detent couples who kiss un its romantic alleys, Jakarta will be safer from rape. Porns. You name it. Less love. More lust.

In here, your love will just be more restricted. Interracial marriage draft. and you know the other one, the draft which clearly states that woman shouldn't show their hips, etc off.

Less love. More lust. Unsafe. Risih.

everybody, check "The Family Guy" series out! nice recommendation for Pengkabud class or anything to do with English (specially American) literature.

Aerlingus with a technician clearing snowbits on the plane's wings. Feeling anxious of my hadn't been done sociolinguistic essay, I unfolded all the paper in front of me. The Guardian, "Land of the Freeze", I quoted:

Little did we know. we'd already had the tastiest of the reindeer experiences. We stopped, one time, just to exchange disbelief at how amazingly, unexpectedly, bloody cold it was. "Ach, at least you can protect yourself against the cold," said the gnaried one. "How do you protect yourself against the heat?"

correct.

Thought back again, I was carrying two heavy bags, 20 kilos in total i persume on my shoulders. And weavering around Schipol to find gate D12, which all of us self depictly said that it was really near. So, I left the trolleys behind. Dump.
And running. and carrying. and my (physical) heart beating, and it was almost torn apart. thank God, (physical) heart won't be torn apart easily just because the rushing blood.
I had felt the same tension before (physically). In running tests on elementary school, Merpati Putih exercises, climbing high crossing bridges in Jakarta, high impact aerobics...
But the feelings were different. Surrounded with icy atmosphere, I felt I can do it more. no sweats, even no heat. Come to think of it, perhaps, that's just one of the reasons why Indonesian soccer players are not so
you know what i mean.

it's the weather.

a fleeing Schipol. Dec,27.2005.08.00 am.

with snow covering the wings of airplane and the crystal clear ice melting on the window, slides of film in an international airport at dawn emerged. See indians with their modern suits and children in the baby carriages. And Sikh with turban, or the furry booted lady (like the ones Cameron Diaz popularized) and an unshaved man holding her hands. Also the annoying barbie wannabe little girl with top down pink furry coat and boots, yelling she wanna buy a gossip magz in the See Buy Fly.
Funny,huh. All the politics (which have converted into peace war policy), and those which have concerned Medicine Sans Frontiers. They turbinate and pulsate around you. Humans, whose core are love and family. Big politics and war maintain your love to keep on burning in between.
those big bangs...are covering one tiny most prescious philosophy on earth,
love.

and the christmas tree with maroon silver balls, nila ribbons, and reddish lights were standing, letting the walkers interact and see, whether the politics work.

leaving the hectic final tests to a freezing silent oldies country brings myriad of, let's say...things (it's self explanatory), specially, the feeling of nationalism, at last (after the unworking years of PPKn and nation and nationality subjects). How it sucks the mind when you hear the argument of exploitations upon immigrant workers are highly justifiable, and how they laugh a lot upon a japanese guy who propose a legally enforcable minimum wages for all people in a first world country. Somehow, i'm no longer interested in the typical caucasian good looking males anymore. Umm...not. Leave one space for Mr.Eastaugh, a sharp melancholic eyes beholder from the department of English and literature, whom we (Santi and Dhika also participated highly) usually coded as Mas Joni. hehehe.

For a while, you’re still in the dark
Ah yes, sir…
Plus sinked blood stern, culminated acid on the t-junction of my t area
And American Psycho bells reminding me for haven’t found any
And the four-legged man said
“Do you like dark movies?”, and a thrown idea of gothic, Freudian psychoanalysis, Byronic hero, binary opposition, famme fatale, dimsel in distress, Christine of the phantom, interview with the vampires, romanticism hippies grown to yuppies, tilted flowers, bright city bright lights, and grey suits flew

keep maintain me normal, please, I pledged to his eyes.

baby,
Sit on your fatty ass
When you hear the names mentioned
And you don’t wanna peep even through the glass
since you don’t want the drop catches attention

so honey,
Sit on your fatty ass
With the cards play seems may drag your direction
From your farfetched dream being in their class
And the cannon doesn’t even know the healing caption

And dear,
Sit on your fatty ass
Press your knees to your bourbon
Sip the distilled whiskey to your mind carcass
When he disturbs your ‘Janie’s Got A Gun’
And how your absent hearted spills makes him crushed

sometimes, breaking is just a real right thing to be happened. Never imagined that I long for it now.

I AM a kid of third world country

When unfortunes strike my life, two options lay, to blame myself or my misfortune being in this country.

One dry sunny morning with polluted particles dusked from big tires. Don’t blame me when I selfishly choose air conditioner as the best invention besides electricity. Waiting for air conditioned bus is not for those who can’t stand. It needs a half to three quarter hour. Getting the bus, stood on the frontiest array of standing people, with nothing to grip. Ass on someone’s something, and literally, you needed to cover your breasts to avoid a contact with walking conductor collecting 5,500 rupiahs. And while the feet were tensed in balancing the result of sudden breaks, the same feet had to hang on for one and a half hour in a horrible traffic jam. Okay with all the conditions, meaning that yes, it is acceptable to stand in a public transportation. But, the idea of you could do nothing for one and a half hour is just so sad.

I kept on agreeing Amartya Sen on his thought that poverty happen because of limited chances. Including the chance to do something in one and a half hour, I may add. My pray and slander were answered. Getting off from the bus, took the other final one, and, vale… empty seats, functioned well air conditioner with slight smell of oranged scented cheap car fresherners, and songs…do that to me one more time, one is never enough for a man like you…

And the excitement of last night appeared. The excitement which could successfully erased my sadomasochist thoughts when I saw Kuch Kuch Hota He (spelling correction, anyone?) at that afternoon. I could no longer parallelize my experience with any kind of love stories.

It is now
Unmeaningful.
And, the dawn boy, do that to me one more time…
Because one is never enough for a man like you, not him.

A consolation for the lost

This is my latest weekend after you said good luck. Yes, only that, without sweeteners like you used to pour. Honda city. The hotel. The lovers of the Artic Circle. Teater Utan Kayu. Stinky man. A couple. A hundred thousand rupiahs for a bowl of tasteless, big sized noodle. Late conversation. With someone resembles you. Late awake. Made Nick Long and Redwan wait for long. Nick said Daniel Redcliffe was joining England selection for WUDC. Redcliffe was a debater. Taksi Putra. 52. two hours. Cipinang Jaya. Supermarket Divine. Conversation. The eccentric lecturer’s home. Ten o’clock. Convenient store. Pringles. Smax. Batteries. Two bottles of Aqua. A man and two cartons of cigarettes. Kosti. Happy Saturday night wish for the taxi driver. Loosening chat with Miranda. Muhammad was the latest prophet. The message completed. McDonald’s delivery. Fillet o fish. The daily show. Adjudicate. Ridiculous photo session with Donny. Break night party. Someone else’s RX.
Went home, and he said, “ You’re rarely be on a motorcycle, aren’t you?”
“I was used to. But now, no more,” I replied.
A photographer, a film maker, a smoker, on the same religion and ethnicity, a silent boy, boy… it’s so safe?

Kalau kau ingin membuat segalanya tak bermakna
cungkilah tiap detail warna yang ada
Ceritakan setiap saat di kala kau bisa
Sebanyak orang yang kausuka
Hingga kepingan habis, kosong, dan menganga
dan kau akan mengiya
cerita-cerita itu bukan apa-apa
bagi dirinya, bagi mereka, bagi dunia
bagi dirimu

sehingga kau dapat melapisinya dengan kalkir
dan membuatnya rabun, jauh, tidak berwarna, penuh miasma
walaupun sebenarnya
ada.

Crack
Brag
Slack
what I hate when my friends just fall in love?
They do not share moments with you again
Specially the guys.
Or, I hate this, because I will rethink, are we really friends? Or I just coincidently meet them and shares things.
Without particular care for each other.
And, this forces me also to believe in the concept that love doesn’t take, but give
Only, which I didn’t buy before.
Make me rethink again, why love should be prioritized over some kiddy games and laughter sessions?
I just don’t get it.

Special, for: the long haired pianist and the bald manager!
Wake up guys, smell the coffee!!!

two more weeks, and, "What's the jog, bro?"