The Great Devastation

Dear the One,

For so many years, I will only feel free and experienced in your way when I am with someone else or in another term, not alone. When I am alone, as if I am the only one exist, I tend to challenge although intellectually I know I couldn’t. But sometimes, the consciousness has been fruitful but the outcome is not obvious. I know that I am saved, but I chose to walk back the time and willing to forsake you for the sake of pleasure. I wouldn’t say that the feeling of being saved lasted for long but only one year, and I think I have the wrong strategy to possess and utilize the Good News. People around are as liberal as they seem to be and as filthy as they are. They look so perfect in their own corrupted and succeeded and spectacularly flawless. I wouldn’t pray that I will be like them, but at least, get rid of my own problem Books and words have spoke to me that this problem will never be solved as it is an everlasting journey. Actually, I comprehend this very well. But a single step and few minutes will ruin my feeling and bring my mental and light into spasm. They died down. I am as an entertainer, by no means, helping people, though, sometimes not effectively but tend to let the yesteryear nightmare haunt me down into everlasting burning fire. Every time, after I repeated the same old mistake, I come to you and in the evening, I felt as if I am cleansed. Nevertheless, what lay in front is uncertainty and I tend to compromise and procrastinate and the whole process repeated itself again. No one cares about and in my heart; faith is like something you do alone, which is strictly false. But.. What can I do?

Pages and faces reveal only the best side of it and the flaw remains as dirty little secret. And in this age, the dirty little secret have been transformed into topics that are healthy and beneficial. Is it the true or just another blasphemy from human origin? I can’t be certain and confirmative that I will not bring myself in such stupid valley, but I think I’ll try. Try to make everything and welcoming, instead of judging things and criticizing people.

Pieces of purity have shed off and what is left? A dark and poisonous metal furnished by mankind’s glitter.

1.

It has been a long while since I last love people; I mean generally, not the type of romantic love. After deciding to live in my life the fullest and somehow be a good guy, there is this pure heart and emotion for some period of time. As time goes by, all these rules have become stereotype and everything is dramatized exaggeratedly. I treat thing in a proud sight and that makes my whole being worse than ever, and that the point where downturn happened.

Sometimes, I tried to be the type of person that people intended and I lost my whole genuine morality. No authenticity inside me but just another mould that is shaped by people opinion. Layers by layers of me are being shed and torn off. Mostly, it is due to pride and inability to stay normal, or maybe the lack of accountability

Accountability.

As naïve as it may sound, we are lack of it. Suppose it is due to my inner-retrospective perspective that transforms me into such jerk, that the inside is loosely bounded to the outside. I keep doing the whole buck of nonsense, trying to lose my life and waste my time, and yet surrounding me are seemingly-perfect people. That makes me feel even guiltier. Nevertheless, in the life plan of every person, there is wound, and remains undetected. The potential wound of disaster that will spoil the whole being.

Many people may be studying now, tying to eat their book in their ways. But the more I read and study, the more vulnerable and sophisticated I get. I get anxious easily for nothing. No concrete support for my own behavior or intended attitude but only a believing and faithful spirit that sometimes seems to be far away from me. After suffering for all the excess contamination, when shall ever be a new person? When shall I be transfigured again? I am tired of all this activities, meaningless and immoral. It is like acid pour on me bit my bit and I am not able to scream. It constricts and traps my personality in this empty bombshell. I have no way but to exert the pressure in some everlasting pain.

When will everything be restored to its originality, genuineness, authenticity and godliness? Whereby everything will be as transparent, as innocent and as naïve as it may look, like a newborn baby, wrapped in swaddling linen, lying on the warm manger. As graceful as it looks.

Dusk.

1.

It’s been whole lot year of happiness and relieve after the tragic. A whole year period, piled up with all the good memories. Somehow, I still have to face the events that took place after one year. I believe it is not merely consequences but more than that. I find that all the inner-conflicts are rooted in lonely moment and depressive season. With such a complex combination of season and curiosity, I stumble against the angst. No longer there seems to be a short-cut to end all the warfare. Sad to say, the world is started to orbit in my mind that than around me. This may be due to the lost in culture and different point of view. I can’t mix with whole pile of unlucky charms and harms that will deceive me into the wilderness.

Too much time I have spent in solitude and that has made me grow in an imbalance manner. Long time ago, I am just another ignorant dude that does not move much and don’t have much to care about. All have been provided for me and I can live depending on others. Every day counted briefly and carelessly.

Now, I have mistaken the trend as harmless toy that I have control over it. It’s such a mistake to even think like that about human nature. I long for pure mind that I once had in Brazilian years ago. But what is the use to long and not even try to change it? The scar and thorn remains as a threat and turning back for me. I can’t forget the downturn thoroughly but I sure need people who are willing, in a way, to share it with me. I can’t force someone into the same position like me, as I don’t hope that any people will be like me.

Around me, there are many friends, both reliable and trustworthy. But sometimes, those truths are to be revealed to more-than-friend. It is different dimension, and a friend is not need to share that kind of pain. I tried to be tough in all these but I know I can’t last long. Just for the sake of making this earth a better place, I tried to conceal and conceal. Soon, it broke up and I have to point of where to solve the problems.

2.

To change the topic in a slightly improper method, I have to talk about the atmosphere, so as not to keep on digging and hurting myself. The contrast of the sky and the intensity of the brightness have change gradually for now. I have thought of going out to have a breath of fresh air (This is the method I used to relieve myself and try to avoid problems a year ago) but it seems like it is impossible for me for now. I love green and that is the possible reason I love gardening, or more clearly, watering the plants. Many might think that this is a woman’s job and I should leave the static organisms all alone and get into my stuff. Actually it is not about the stereotyped feminine hobby that I enjoyed, but rather the process. And I am not too sure why I love this (maybe it does a great effort in healing my soul)

To experience the love being poured out on some living organisms and they remain static is both amazing and satisfying. They have repaid me back in growing and decorating my garden. They have colored my life in a different way as to compare with my friends. It is the only thing other than jogging that I do in solitary moment, that I have time to reflect and think of invincible thing. I have lost that moment when I am sitting here, pondering, dreaming and writing. And this is another of my deep obsession. It is no not necessary a parasite in me when I say that it is an obsession, rather it is a passion.

When my mind dried up and I have no idea what to write, that is the time where I suffered most. It is shameful to have those moments. Life is full of shameful moment which is also considered failure and accumulated to become success.

Stop posing, take your medicine.

With all the struggles of flashing images and politics, I find myself trap between two concrete walls. How should I ever be in such condition of inability to identify the extreme points of this relationship? I am neither blind nor deaf, but everything seems to be black. I might consider of giving it a push, but that is not my will. In amidst of unknown, it is hard to still persist in the ancient love which lust in dominated my love. With all the influential quotes and messages, I realizing I am condemning myself or my unworthiness. I came only to visit or to pass by, but at last it has become a tragic stealing, killing and destroying. Not only causing harms to this outside but cutting the life-enlighten candles half at once. I have strong feeling and opinion that this instant attractive aurora started in a night feast. In coherent with the culture and lifestyle, this might be just a normal scene and won’t cost a thing. I suggest it will. Faces and appearance of anonym transmitting signals to and fro. Undefined signals. These days are ruined. Is it still hard to fall in love?

Trying to go against the current.

Is there any equation on solving the inner problem that I am in? It seems like a quicksand that keeps sucking the pieces out of me. I mean it is all coming from very normal, trendy, and so called-classy culture. And I do believe that the culture is just as coherent as what we want. For many people have said, the materials are there and provided for everyone and the left is on your hand, whether you want to give in or not. For me they sound a bit irresponsible as not only trying to defile their image but people’s purity. Although this message is quite concealed, but I believe it is the truth. It is the dirty little secret and now I believe have become public disgrace that we treated equally as Hollywood’s movies. “It’s classy”, the same old word that have been used for an about thousand years to describe something that is eventually filthy, spiritually. It hurts the observer’s soul and mentality and on the other hand, putting the performer’s live in the verge of traumatic stress/mental disorder, or maybe in the midst of it. Maybe there are people who like to live in such condition as to completely immerse themselves in the ocean of adrenaline. No wonder it is hard when someone have to get off all those trashes and dumps, that person have to die to themselves, die to their body, be able to give out the constant temptation of hormones and fantasy, to pursue The Only Way. People no longer like to hear people preaching and about The Way, and maybe they sound like the salesman are advertising something, while people have the stereotype that products that have to be advertised are bad-selling products. We think frequently about all this stuff that I am now talking about, it is not the definition of the one true and sensational word. It is in fact a condemnation on it. Those images and videos do not even carries the deep meaning of the word. They are trying to twist-and-turn our mind that love is all about physique. We shouldn’t be self-helping in this stuff. We need communities of love.

Sometimes, I reflect on how I am being hated and how my silly act may have been a feature of my own. But things done and gone, and maybe it leaves a lil’ stain on man’s heart. People come and go also in our surrounding. That makes us sounds even more innocent and someone-like. It seems no one cares for us. And why every time it is ‘us’?

Eat your ID

I just read an article by Orhan Pamuk-a Turkish reader which I came across lately and been hooking up with everything related with him, though I have not read any of his masterpiece, to name some of it, Snow and Istanbul. From my point view, Istanbul is an exotic city covered with charming and sprinkling light, thought the political issue is relatively obvious. Despite it is situated somewhere of Islam-cultivated, but I greatly appreciate the abstract scenery and outcast architecture.

What this taught me was that, contrary to what I’d believed, a passport is not a document that tells us who we are but a document that shows what other people think of us.

This phrase has awaken me from the deep hibernate of self-identity. I had never realize that a simple booklet size passport has such a philosophical and revealing personality of it. Many a time, we are influenced by how people define us rather than how we look at ourselves. We strive to escape from this pressure, but often, we failed to do so. I am not purposely trying to lift his artwork up in such a degree that is infinite. But in every person, there knowledge and wisdoms which will one day be a great resources and instrument in changing one’s life. This truth has also led me into writing down all the junk that I consider valuable. To be able to retrieve yourself from the common society and hallucinate is a vital part in being inspired, at least all of this is applicable in a momentary style.

Drowning keeper dog

I don’t know when it will be the next time that I blog. But most probably after the local exam, which is the reason I have t kick my butt. There is too much to really understand and see comprehend, all the fuss and dirt. I have to continue this journey of faith and belief, to try the best to achieve something that is beyond my mind. Well, it seems normal, but it’s ok, after two months, there will be a change. I hope to see the resources being used to start a hip research on everything that I love. All of them are gold to me. Words of wisdom and quote of silver.

I have complete my last mission to write a short essay on whatever that I could think of, just hoping that I won’t get bored and frustrated with writing. When I don’t read, I really can’t write. And for the time being, I really quit reading, at least momentarily. I know the excuse that I gave is not a good one, but reliable enough to make the passion dim a little. So, the words and topics and talks are getting dried up and I have to reserve some momentum on some mundane stuff that I have missed for a whole lot year.

My inevitable exile

Where are our feet? Our hands? We living lifelessly and hanging up beyond picture? Where is the sister of love that once heal our migraine. Suppose there is still love, I will consider of building a tent of light. To be in the green, feeding on organic substance, hanging china. I need pictures of genuine intimacy. The truth, I rejoices.

In the streets, there is people around me that is living kinda out of tune. I may be too judgemental and trying to put people below me. But what for this cases, I suppose the truth need to be refined and marketed. That its root and stem will grow, its flower will flourish, the scent will persist. People resist the creation of natural ‘needles and threads’, with the artificial mean, they created a fairyland. I want to be true enough and honest, yet never those values, I mean , sometimes. To be little outcast in certain way will also created a pasture of self-enjoyment. But wait till you see the well that is always somewhere unseen.

Hugging my pillow, I often imagine the look of the beauty. Yet, those addictive moments sometimes can’t cure the real thing in me. I can’t get to sleep.

Sometimes, I get the feeling of loving and being loved. It is simple. Everything is going straight, even the relationship. Everytime I write, I get everything in a circle, just strolling through the same destination. I wish to break it out of the boundary, the hot meting path. Maybe I’ll start with some fairy tales with monster in it, to kinda stuck me into this sort of awkward activity. Confusion. I write to be confused, not to be confused with truth but with my mind. I tried to makes everything to come be in my heart, but it ruins when I want to put it into words. There is no way to solidify it into such concrete and fix posture. All the emotion and feeling are flying around and they communicate with my mind when I ponder or sort of building my Buckigham in the air. And all this rise to a façade. An old buck.

Perhaps when I set my mind that I am not writing for someone, or in fact I am writing for myself and I have the freedom to even scream and shout at the screen. It’s my liberty. My own, personal party that I am hanging around. Words have changed my life a lot, really, to an extent that even 10000 pages of book can’t explain it all. It creates in me a fundamental understanding on how to be a Chinese and a Malaysian. All the collections of wisdom has contributed in the living of a person, a family, a country and one whole world.

See, again, people are getting harsh on each other, blood stained war. Leave those foul words alone so that you can stand still by yourself and by using beautiful words which means polite, to strengthen the way you converse and how people understand you. Lets love in the time of exiles, to love in a war, in purity and certainty, I believe our hearts will be bonded together in one nation, one circle again.

Much love,

The Volatile Crew of Freedom

I visited the Doulus Cruise today. The weather is nice but weary and people seem slightly friendly and happy for today, maybe it is due to my personal emotion that brought about such images. Well, there is seemingly cold breeze sweeping through my face, tenderly, softly, as if it is carrying away pieces of memories. When I walked on few steps on the cruise, after striving through whole lots of steps, I saw a girl, maybe a boy. I don’t know, maybe I am drunk and I don’t have the intention to focus on such minor thing. I’ll use a she, it makes everything seems emotional a bit.

Her leg high up, on the bars, leaning on a chair, writing on her small black notebook. What will be the content? Maybe its like some sort of voyage stories or maybe Pirates. It is the life a voluntary crew member. To rejoice in the physical freedom, to have a community of different races living together, spreading the Gospels together in one big cruise, free from the corrupted culture – a wonderful discretion method. For some city people, it might be a waste of time. Personally, I think this is all to big a miracle.

Yet, it is the surrounding, the everlasting scene of beauty. The pebbles-like light along the road, glimmering, yellow in colours, reminds me of different occasion of homecoming. My tears and bloods have been shed on this piece of land. I always long for some vacation or some migration to land over the sea, yet not knowing I am in such magnificent paradise. Every time I saw this scene, my heart broke down, my mind ponder for nothing, but the joy keeps filling me up and I feel that a repetition of this event will probably ensure the longevity of my life.

Often, we are too busy sorting out our own microscopic stuff and neglected everything around us, including people. We search for someone or something with higher status, to have the sense of longing, but are there moments when we should have the sense of belonging?

I love this piece of land, not by its status or its advancement. This humble land has been a stage for my life. My life was created here, destructed here, changed here, reborn here. Every soil and dust marks my presence and my identity and every piece of them have helped in forming me. For when I leave this land, to brought about something that is beneficial for those who have the great opportunity as I am, to live in such places. Believing that they will appreciate all the blessings, no matter in materials or emotions, they will rejoice and often reflect all the memories that have build up their triumphs.

Often, it is someone that marks the special moments of my life, not a great revolution, just slightly remarkable in my mind. A girl and a beautiful glimpse. That’s more than enough to create a heavy downpour of ambiguity in my feelings. Have I chosen the easy way rather than pursuing for what I have in my heart? As I said before, the instant and spontaneous sparkling of wine and fire.

merciful.

circus round-o-wheel

To see beauties crossing by, it stirs up some anonymous self-esteem. Believing that you are the smartest and most talented. Thanks to the brain and hormones. To be able to experience this spontaneous and instant ecstatic feeling is good and relieveing even. Well, it cause death also. i mean death in the heart and mind. It has relation with running. The scene passed by is ever-soothing and wonderful, and huge. Someone passed by, eyes turned, another more terrific organism in front of you. So, stay focus or in highness.

Ok, maybe it is not a very serious problem. Boy in love with a girl in the first sight (That is too degrading to use the word 'love', attracted perhaps) But, there will be few weeks of funny-love dreams, like I keep thinking this sudden crossing by, or the scene keeps popping out in my mind. And this happens for weeks... Perhaps I have this interest in things behind appearance. The concealing truth. At this stage of maturity or adolescence, everyone is facing peoblem about girl, relationship and whole universe that has anything to do with that two beautil thing. Maybe it is due to the social and popular culture that lays in front of all teenager and pre-adult.

They need attrativeness, something to experience, to touch, to smell? And people link the word emo with love. When there is love, there is no despair, no sadness, no grief. It is joy, not only emotionally but spiritually. That it keeps no record of wrongs, rejoice in truth but not to delight in evil. Mind it! DOES NOT DELIGHT IN EVIL. No adultery, no nothing. What we've seen in tv programmes might be a whole lot of lies. ANd people try to be some sort of immitant to the seemingly glamorous life that they did not witness sight by sight. And pop!, they felt to the deepest trap filled with vagueness. Even when they fail, they did not realize. Love is not blind, we are.

Everything must be restored.

We are 'one' Chinese Comrades!

Blaming our ancestors provides you another excuse for forsaking yourself as yellow-skin.

Where and how you were born, no matter in what place, that's your love. Love it. Rejecting it doesn't makes people think that you are cool. just a lil moron with no cultural background, which means, in another word, worthless nuisance. I am not condemning someone, I hope so, this may sound harsh, but yellow-skin is in fact a blessing.

The ancient words and poem is a description of our roots. Speaking of music, contemporary and popular, those are just constant trap for us, a mistake, us who are lost. To find way out in instruments and words. Music is rooted in words, Melody and rhythm are the expression of inner heart, so do poems, stories and arts. Is the expression, phenomena, atmosphere that counts. Saying, skills do matter but with no fundamental wisdom in the deeper one, such worthless music is produced. Those are just contrast and static show-off piece of self acknowledging piece of defined-by-popular-ideas art. Those are condemned! Perhaps constant indulge in the liquefied pieces will flew your ideas of inner-self away. You don't who you are, why you are here. The root becomes diminished and constant remembrance of the brokenness of war. War kills, peace heals.

Common enough for the infant to prove that. Please don't be cool by just portraying the facade that you have no greater knowledge in, trying to be in coherent with the community in all streams. Wired yourself up to the rock hard foundation. Flying around with paradise flower doesn't prove you are greater or wiser but be immersed in the total blindness and death. Be fire, my boy.

Pondering while running, the trees aren't beautiful at all, women are. Such creations have distinguished characteristics and features, unable to put it all into words, those are emotional inspiration. Lot of tears,lots of sweats. Everything goes round and round and becomes affectionate. We are too vulnerable to everything that surround us, say, we might pick up something and when it bores us, we throw it away. (often applicable to the same species as us). That is the natural state of being common in uniqueness. When something is abandoned, no one cares. When something is on the top of the line, it seems like those are 'worthy' enough to die for. Nevertheless, there are 'someone' that last, very much, still exist(even in small popularity) among the community.

Yet, the root is abandoned, everyone is dying and killing for the popular and common one.

May you be a hippies rather than a celebrities. With no pipes, clean and fresh, with no dependency on materials and self-generated 'Ecstasy'.

The death of handbags and heels.

Her facial expression is covered with despair,sadness, grief, like the look of some heavily affected New Yorker. Perhaps that atmosphere in his career is what makes her 'beautiful' in such a way wthat fulfill the fantasy of the opposite sex. Been talking and criticising a lot about the outside world, not doing my own job. At least, what I have been doing will smoothed my inner being a bit. She remains anonymous. The early maturity stages and indulgence have brought her into another atmosphere of nightmares. She is in Hollywood yet also in San Fernando Valley. Triumph in career and striking appearance contrasted the downcast in her soul. Her eyes, charming, but there is this little secret inside it, striving to let out, but the surrounding does not allows. Tyra Banks has done a good job, both in mentoring and as a friend, yet she never gives in. Why a girl with such standard like to put herself in the dreams of others? The contrast in his 'performing' career and 'acting' career have a vast difference.

Will there be a sudden personality disorder or is it existing since she was born? I don't like judging people by how their works strike me in my mind, but based on what I could witness, that's all I could say. It is her way of life, but by writing down the moments as a small memoir, at least, the words create a post that last forever and will be remark unto the past.

When Like is able to go easier and that the perspective will not be slightly tougher, I mean we don't really want or even need those handbags and heels that are sealed with respective hardcore brand. It creates a sudden visual and strange galaxy that let us ponder, strolling.

The girl wears and tears, picks up and throws it.

Have you been blinded? There are obvious and scary faces around you, yet you Don't fear. You respect the needs of the lost, you hurt yourself by letting them treated you with rope and disgusting materials, your tears dropped, we saw it, t is not an effect, nor a director's requirement, its you heart drops. Your heart is in pain, It screAMS and cries. Any moments, seconds, there is blood and tears of innocence and virginity drop on the ever-evil earth.

If you are willing, please read and ponder. I would like to see a new, fresh and re-born girl, vibrantly greeting all strangers in the sunshine way. It reminds me of the childhood that I have ever wanted, but spoilt. It's a regression but worth it, you moved the mountain, you triumph over the clouds, and it will succeed only with the blessing of light, showering love. Not the deceitful culture of purse, sport cars, handbags, cosmetics, heels...

May the peace of God be with you. There is always light in the darkness that you are in.

vivid scenario of flashback and trespassing.

The industrious ideas of money and fame strike and change the lives of many. Up and down.

They seems to be enjoying in deep pain. but it is the long-forgotten root that captured them in pain and bondage. There is no way out without really chopping off the root of all evil. Childhood experience, family background, environmental factors... What if there is love for a child? With the toast of innocence?

We are made of love, nourished with love. In deep heart, I felt lonely, yet the fundamental solitary moment define my feeling more precisely and appropriately. green solitude, refreshing and renewed heart

I came across these two foundations and ministry, namely XXXchurch and Pink Cross Foundation. Brilliant work and enormous contributions to the society!

They selfless non-heroic efforts in helping those who are in the pornographic industry, not typically 'saving', but merely helping those who need to get out of that dirty job. They never lose their mind and quit, an thanks to Jesus Christ, for He is the only reason for their mission. To clean the society from all secual immorality. However, these unlimited seats are reserved for those who have the heart to turn away for good. Nor forceful but in need of a willing and determinated heart of striving in joy for liberty and freedom from what used-to-be smaeful industry. Nowadays, there tonnes are around us who are indirectly conversating with this dirt industry. Is it worth it to sacrificice your future and coloured your life with guilt and shame for the sake of a few pieces of skins and temporary pleasure? Those pleasure should be reserved for your precious spouse, they deserve it and it is the main foundation of aa strong and long lasting marriage and pure intimacy.

When there are lives to be saved in the society, often they are rooted in vulnerability that define their future in such way, we still continue our mundane and routine works of selfishness. Well, I have no idea how to reach onto these troups of will-be-found-one-day people. Social Networking is just wayd not to reach people, but peep in people's face in anonymous state and that covers the real identity and purposes. When will it be us who change the social networking system into a device that favours us rather than us serving a slaves unto this high-tech and user-friendly system?

throw your amp

No theological theory, no philosphy behind it, no deep and head-scratching definition, juts the pure medley of observation and naive mentality with a dip a purity.

It contains no fuss, no distraction, just mrerely focus, concentration, eye contact, the ambience in it, that mantains the naturality of being, dip of silence, silence for the closest and intimate unknown, understand, how tiny we are.

There is nothing big blocking on the road. Straight, ordinarily-broad, happy, joyful pathway to the ever-peaceful land. The everland. Paradise. However, the roadside 'things' are doing something, distracting, annoying, yet I enjoyed every posture that they bring me, it intrigues me, into movements of my own. I don't have this consciousness that someday and somewhere I will have the possibility of being drop dead. Suddenly. Abruptly. Spontaneously. Noone knows about it. It may shock everyone around me and it has a direct relation with the range of my social circle. Maybe I won't influence the globe too much, don't bother people's life too much, just the matter of not existing. But, where will I be at that moment? I never questioned myself like that at that moment, when I am conditionally young and lost in some way, lost uncosciously. The dealt with temptation has somehow brought me into sub-consiousness and somehow brought me into a forest of uncertainty. I deteriorate,. wholly. I degrade people eaily and by sight. Eye-stripping candyy. This may have cause small impact on others but the games that I play in mind corrupt my whole system. My everything is in debt, mortgaged to this 'game'. I thought of quiting, but I can't. It has been a thing in my heart. To put it into words, in order to remove it thoroughly or rather in a sanitary way, I need something to replace it, not its role, but its position in my life. A great position that dominates my sight and how I look at the universe. And this 'someone' to replace this 'thing' has to be someone interesting, stable and powerful.

There is no Superman or Ninja Turtle to save my life. The popular culture has create total fantasies that enable us to pause for few moments from the mundane and 'Wall street' life. (so how'cha going, MR Wall street? Cracking pieces?), but for a long term indulgences, it ruins.

It has nothing to do with confessions, but reflection on my past. Nostalgic creepy pathway, below sea and above the sky. If only there is a day, where I can sleep for 10 hours a day, wake up at 10, have a cup of tea or juices maybe, plastered myself to the computer for hours, with a lil entertainment, how restless it can be. Everything I do it alone, boredom strikes in tasks of depression, raining clouds with moody sensation.

I wish it would rain soon. Maybe now,

man-made sky

As we all act and thought, we done clean our 'window' well, we decorated it with fuss and other that may be reliable in covering the inner us. Judgemental personality might play a part in this, making all thing goes worst. None can really stop for few moments and recall what we have done that tears others apart, we only care for what is in front of us. WE strive to get it, we killed to succeed in greed and pride, that just make everything goes in orders, in reluctance, in scars.

Maybe the so-called body-promoting actors and actress (the one that is plating a major role in nowadays teenager's mind, and also adults) trying to pursue liberty and democratic mentality, using their background to create a sudden illusion that brings everything in such a mess, just as the condition in their industries, No sanitary. Smoking pot, Heroins, you name it, they could have sacks of it. There is connection between the both industries. What makes law and legalistic? Everything that most people agree on for the temporary and speechless desire, just for a few decades before it worsen into a certain degree. The black may someday become the purest thing in front of us. Believing that legalism and law will sustain our right and freedom? I am in no party of saying that. Te ridiculous revenue just makes me ponder for a few moments, those money, those sacrifices, is like a mud of excreted materials, excess, dirty, unworthy, yet it seems appealing to us, and we do kinda enjoy it, we admit, momentarily. Momentarily. The world that put all pleasure into an end, a dead end. Will us someday realize that our mental conditions have led u astray, way back into ignorance, into stupidity, into craziness. Bunch of UN-civilized.

What taught us? Maybe music videos, movies, musics and pornography are their parents. Call them brother. They killed us, piece by piece, pancake-blood-like.

To apologize, to those whom I hurt consciously and unconsciously, these words are just the only way to conceal the scar inside me. The scars bounded by happiness and jot, the love of God, how great, yet sometimes, man-made materials might attempt in breaking everything apart, let the tears put an end to all the destruction. This is the technologically-generated scars. How long to go? 3-4 years? decades? or forever?

Love is not a pancake-sized coverage of definition and activities, but the start of everything that we can't comprehend the meaning of this word too well, we are not enough of it. Yet, by knowing myself better in clean and refreshing aspect, independence of popular culture and the 'soothing' voice by the ear, I am made of love. WE are made of love. how tender, how sweet, how precisely, that we are made, 'needles and threads', in human mentality, pieces by pieces. Piled up in perfection. (sleeping at last)

May you realize that love is with you,the love of everything in moderate consciousness. May the peace not be in silence, but rioting with calmness, comforting us in every aspects, to relieve us, to heal us.

bun,

cleaning procedure on.

When is the time when we seek for freedom again? I mean even friends can sometimes trap you in cages. Depressing moment, is the most vulnerable moment. I tend to think in a bad way! Peak imaginative view, it spoils my mind, dropping dropping....

When is the time that we hang out and at least bring nothing with us. Burden strangling yet it is why we grow. In sea and on land. Out with the fuss, here we go, superman. What we need is just bun and buns. To eat and to throw. To wash and to soak in full liberty, my sister, where had you'ven been?

Go green with the sister, bluff all the way in the highway, clean you peace, there ain't any of them, but don't give them yourself, you stay. Strolling, keep walking, don't date. Everything is wasted and busted, buddylist C?UT. Centrefold.

Heree we go, another ka-cha. Annoyingly blue, read the whole stack, yet brainless. When will we be the new white for the black? Earn white spend black, coat and pajamas, a medley, delicious trend. Music? ah-ya, forgot about the band, I think that ends everthing. I haven been speaking for a long time, my mouth smells.

rainbow hen

melodic, falsetto, soulful.

O. Another week of ecastacy and struggle to come. To face it, we used to it. I've seen the difference between black and white. Myself is covered with black paint that bring me far away from the peace that I am looking for. Then, what shall we really do to really find the truth of my life? I feel like I am away from my path, gone stray. Waiting for another free time to free myself into the woods and be hippies without smoking pot. To live with the green and fresh things that we used to love. Fantasizing, a big word yet suitable for the atmospheric and cal situation that I am imagining. To bring my laptop and speakers deep into the midst of fresh breeze and streams, the tenderness of air swept across my cheek, love, how nice is it?

Recentlt, I came across an isolated yet famous land or country-Iceland. Icelandic greeness may be the background for the white sigur ros. Yeah, the medley of computer generated melody and intrumental tunes.

Guitar, bow, please choose me.

surrounding love boundary.

May you believe in God, and may you also know that God believes in you,

May you have faith in Jesus, and may you also know that Jesus have faith in you that you will become more like him.

Dust, the excess yet the beginning of everything.

My life is satisfying ever since myt soul crawled out from the dark woody plane. Just a narrrow pavement to death, in isolated plane, no friends, no nothing. But through this suffering that love become something more than word to me. It is as if drops of stars twinkling around, the atmosphere, thrilling and speechless. Communicating with the invincible air is my soul, my body statically positioned in that posture, and it is at that moment that I realized my life will undergo a change. To change into a way that not pleasurable to mankind, but joyful to a soul. It is being nourishes, nurtured into a form of unpredictable shape, yet filled with love and peace. I admit I did not reach that status yet, but it is by love that we are shaped into one appriopriate being. Without God, we are dust of emptiness, severe in sin, dirty in thoughts, never will be saved or made.

The metamorphosis does not enable me to be eternal pure or sinless. But into a war that declared as 'the fight of the truth'. Disasters and challenges continue to smack on my face. Yet, never there is a thing that is so heart-touching as the love of God. The speech that carriess all momentum away, the air that we breathe fill with something unknown, when everything comes into one nation and oneness, everything will be restored.

May you be transformed by God's spirit into someone like Jesus.

slave, sex, disease

For those who have the same feeling as we are, as vulnetable, as weak, but not as lucky as we are, tears in my heart seriously fall for you. Due to my ignorant and selfishness, currently, I am in no way of helping you all, but through prayer only. Your life is in a way that I personally can't comprehend due to the reason that I have been living in this Palace since I was born. I no longer able to differentiate black and white, there is no such colour that fill the empty space of my mind, all I know is red, blue, yellow...

I felt seriously devastating for those who suffer innocently in agonizing condition to an extent that is unpredictable by human like me. The spirit in you ignite with no flaw, yet the suppresing surrounding contract it into just a tiny candle flame. May the flame continue to combust that one day, it will be the light unto those unlucky ones and to be used in saving you nation.

Urban falling, rural burning,

This world turns in unpredictable manner,

Writers had done their job, by writing the last word,

with the blood shed during the cold war,

peace, my friend had turn into stranger,

walking to a far far land,

every pace he left on the snow, is a burning hope for our nation,

yet the trace will be covered,

and that has end all the light in this land.

All been thrown away,

clothes, money, relationships,

ran deep into the valley or the wood,

a life waiting us there.

when it is raining,

water drip in the leaves,

into our mouths, the scent,

I have known before.

It is the born again nature,

where frustration no longer haunt us.

Bathing in the cold and colourless water,

perhaps our skin will melt like candle,

our spirit ran like a plane,

our eyes have dreams like bird,

no longer hummingbird.

up the hill, the green mountain.

Haze of uncertainty covered the isle. Looking from the sky, it seems like a lost land. A lost land , yet with dignity, a green mountain stood somewhere in it, reaching for the tip of the sky, outreach to the universe.

When does that fresh flow of air came through our mind, that makes us space out for just some time, believing that this world is a wonderland. Lewis Caroll left us, but Alice never did, perhaps the naive figure will never leave the artistic and creative imagination. The darkness rooted in the figure is devastating. The hunted artist left us a imagination that will satisfies our offspring. Happiness does not bore this wonderful, but insanity does. The wonderful that hunts everyone since young, yet taking as a beautiful dream rather than a nightmare of wandering in the 'black' castle.

There is this sense of nature living inside us that is laying the eggs. Undiscovered will lead to migraine. Complaints filled with boredom is just a way to show darkness, or to cover some part of the light. Perhaps there is a day to go naked on the floor of grass, listening to the heartbeats of the earth. Running around the field, sun shinning on our bodily flesh, all animals speaks in their voices, and that makes this world a better and original place. A disastrous and depressing city, we have brought ourselves into. It is born to this earth, together with us, from the womb, fresh and naturally.

Where is the green with freshness and yet never fade? Will it possess the eternity of not decaying with a tender smell, reminding us of the peaceful vast land filled with hope that we once acknowledge. It is deep in our mind and yet we never bring it out to redefine our life according to it. We are too bust to be true, we live in virtually messy life, we don't have time to live, to breath, to sing, to love, to inspire, to be fresh, to be born. . . In the end, darkness came crawling to swifting with regret.

peace,

identification of the air and spirit and soul.

its 4.55 p.m., sun and moon seems to articulate in an orderly manner. Inaudible words penetrating through air, searching for another seems-to-be miracle. Yet, we are all standing on miracles, creations, which is kind-of anonymous to most of us. This land, created for purpose, these men, created for mission, our God brings all things together into one sheet, malleable and too miraculous to be true.

Sun, shine as long vibrant as you could.

Moon, be as cool as you could.

For time does not long. There is downfall here. My very 'here'.

Sunday, all living things seem to last for a very long period to day. Green is green to its fullest. Crowded place, I did not inspect.

volatile fool

raindrops again.

rhythmic, flying, volatile, beat by beat penetrating the cold heart, warming every atoms of it.

a day of breath, deceiving dreams, standing by the slippery black slope, confused, randomized thought. What is there except the everlasting light and cloud? with the absence of both creation, darkness overwhelmed carrying threads of evilness.

Nevertheless, now is as bright as life on the other dimension. This aching world, set us in vulnerable and what-to-do situation, what else can we do except to defence and fight? Or are we too weak to fight? yes, flesh.

However, flesh with spirit living in it, is not the ordinary one. No longer words can be used to describe it. It is merely feeling. Inspired? The greatest love comes from spirit that excrete in act. Not requiring tear, but war of peace. A war of intimacy, not the invention of evil, not the one that man created. A simple war to achieve a certain world of peace and joy, indescribable dimension, with linens of harmony sewed into fabric of eternity and everlasting creation. Love.

Much love,

a life between two edges.

begging along the Broadway,
pacing down the Oxford street,
lying on the green pasture of Norway,
seeking a life in somewhere unknown.

Where you don't know where you are and who you are.

Be thankful, as there is still a community that you are in. Dirty and corrupted, though. Red and green neon light everywhere distorting the purest eyesight of an infant. Rocky path enveloped by temptation and seduction, with little flatted the feeling, it goes down into the never-ending and ever-burning valley. The world that we are living, beautiful in your eyes, stupid in your heart. A condemned place, yet to be contented for living in a 'nice' place.

Are you still as pure as the infant, at least your eyes and you heart and your mind?

A runing-down soul, with a little nostalgic feeling, proving that she in fact has a worth living past. She don't know who she is in this piece of unknown land , too anonymous, too vulnerable. She need something or better, someone to support and enlighten her spirit into a living thing instead of letting it becomes some stinking corpses. Now, she need someone bigger and greater than her.

This only apply to the ancient world with just a lil purity in their mind. Now, pride and selfishness, we all adapt, Wen no longer know who is 'humility' and 'selflessness' which the direct pathway to peace. So now, end up war. Simply, war. War among mankind. You and me, war. He and she, war. Doctor and patient, war.

War, you love it? A soft-boiled egg surrounded by two hard and concrete walls. Crushing on both sides, fighting for liberty. End up, crushing itself to pieces, to death.

submerged in the dream of Norwegian Wood

Beatles beat.

My head is blank.

I can't.

As morning breeze came caressing my cheek. I know this will be an enthusiatic and vibrant day without romance. Alone, peaceful and drifting through every corner of the world is what a single man can ever dream of. Lip sing, dancing, is just how beautiful is my the world I am living, but it is not where I am in.

How can I stand alone here dreaming when all parts of the world is suffering? How can just pictures potray the beauty and agony of this world? This world might as well be naked. And you will half the core is black and another bright. That is just a big contrast of humanity in this world. Everyone is too unique.... I don't feel like writing anymore.

Gauge it out. Just end up with a tired and painful spirit. What else?

Autumn breeze

(currently reading Norwegian Wood by Haruki Murakami)

A book that is somehow strange. Touching on lonesome feeling that exists in the nowadays human. And also distance between human in modern days. 19--. Lots of 'dirty details'. Well, just has to skip those parts. Why on earth did the author potray those parts in words?

Listening to Beatles.

A warm breeze swifted through every edges of the woods, reminded me of the calm and peaceful life that I am having, yet in this world filled with pride and agony. How selfish am I?

It is truth that I have nothing to boast in me except God's grace in my life. That is the very true. And I would like to shout all this things out with passion and igniting spirit. That is then all thing came to a point where the burning flow of spirit is like.

Now, (depression) is somehow a common thing (not sickness) that is faced by mostly urban citizens. For those who are in this categories, to tell you that you are not being neglected in God's grace, at least you will in this global society. But, cheer up, man. You need not be a model or some sort of remarkable figure in human judgemental eyes, but you should try you best to be a pure and obedient God's children.

Time is hard, people are pushing too much others. Lonely sould in the midst of the big society?

Put it as distinctive, need not be just like others and don't try to be someone different, instead, stand to your own platform. Anyway, rejoice pal.

Life is tough in a way that is filled with joy. Hatred being overhelmed by love.

I love you. Sincerely.Regardless who you are. I need to love you.

ruined!

The parlour in me used to be just fine, fair even. Now, within seconds, air of regrettion and darkness started to filled every space available.

Is this the wound that can be used in an contributing away? I don’t know, seriously.

Humans are so vulnerable. What can I depend on?

God.

There used to be a link between. I tried to fix it but ruined it.

My hands, bring in regrettion forevermore. When will there be a chance when all the walls in the parlour are filled with shining light, and act as a model for others? When will that be?

Well, I care no more about those surroundings. It ruined my whiteness yet I care for it. No more, I say, no more.

I need to stand upright and wait with Acts. There is a need to restrict self from the seductive surrounding. Here, I am wearing a body that does not belongs to me. I have a responsibility to use it in a worthy and righteous. For what was seconds or minutes away is the past, I take no more of it with me anymore. I should burst the surrounding, but not to give space for it in my small heart.

My hear is small, it only belongs to God.

I am not a good man, vulnerable though. Trust me only when you are willing, not being forceful about it.

beauty in the new country

, now. Nearly every female look the same.

The natural-woman perspective kept walking through my world.

The mixture of

Spanish eyebrow and eyelashes,

British eye iris,

Russian skin?

(perfect?)

Yes, all of these characteristics fuse in one is the ultimate hormone for a man to become crazy for uh-hum. Sex symbol? Are we getting all crazy? Temp..temt..temptation. killing and suffocating yet stimulating our dirty mind into immersing our inner pleasure.

Body shape exceptional (need not be mentioned), if you know what I mean.

Yet, love is another thing. These two, lust and love should be divided in distinctive area. As far as possible. Before walking down toward the pathway of destruction and eternal regrettion.

Love>pleasure. Lust.

Mascara

Paint your face with black and red,

Keep you head as high as possible,

Wear shoes that agonize yourself.

Now, walk along the street and hookin’ predator and observor,

(Females invent temptation)

But, will it be too suffering to take those make-up away?

Well, this is a virtual world. We paint ourselves with attractive colours and look at other through a transparent boundary. We prevent some problems and making up some problem. We enjoy living in our real dream, hoping for the best yet puttng our standard as high as we can, hoping for some sort of dirty miracles that will stay us in comfort zone. My phony friend, beware, there is wolves outside the world, pamper them and they will not drink your blood. Don’t slaughter them, if not, you will have to clean the mess, skin it, messy and troublesome.

(IF you are not willing to read the words that I have written, please don’t hate me. I love you, though. But, if you have the chance to read the words in a melodious tune, please stay, I want to know you and you have to be an observer to my crazy life, I am not sure am I living in the right path. I need your accountablity. I need your advice. I need your head. I need your words. I need your existence. I need you… I need you .

But , not really want you. You are my need. For my very life.

(some)where over the rainbow

(currently playing – Viva La Vida by Coldplay)

There was an unorganized feeling in an anonymous. Feeling lonely and vulnerable. Without true friends, family was at the edge of the sunsent. Where he belongs to other than the corrupted community? Who will accept him as a being? The truth is there is a God carrying him through every problems that he was going through?

But——————————————————– he didn’t know.

Money, he prefered more. Improper relationship and immoralty were like a shack for him. (There is a palace for him)

But——————————————————– he didn’t know.

Till the end of the earth, shrieking of death is _______________

turned-on

(confusion)

dance, dance, dance.

Shouldn’t dancing be some movements that release the inner freedom and fulfillment. Break dance? Well, I prefer “Soul-dance”

Dance with soulful and not with your head. Ditch away steps and steps and steps… Those are thing that restrict the greatest performance of dancing. (I am not an expert in dancing, and dancing for me is not just the movement, it’s an expression, a thing that i can’t find word to describe)

Well, can I compare a spiritual life to dancing? ( no, in fact) But there is something in similar. Expression.

Nowadays, dancing has become a turned-on game that is ‘played’ clubs and pubs or even stripper club. (I hope that one don’t exist in a man’s life) If you know what I mean, it is getting chaotic out there. Show you dancing skill to someone valuable. Remember, SOMEONE, not SOMETHING.

introspection

(Finished Blue Like Jazz, by Donald Miller)

here comes freedom within our mental.

smelling paper after paper makes me to have a rush of adrenaline throughout my vein. well. it is within my control. but frustration still get in. In another word, I love it and I hate it.

So, how’s life your life? or lifeless? why this year is like the past? Everything that i over get heated up like microwave again and is use again in our terms for centuries. Well, no way but to stick with it and be humble. Being in a way that most people are, just make the world a mary-go round. whether you are happy or not, just stick with it. Still, in way that you are carrying you own perspective and not being fooled.

Dear Sin Planet,

If you are the only planet with lives, if only thing will change in a better way, if only someone will not be a hero but Mother Teresa, to help the poor and the educate the rich. If you are sitting in front of the computer, please keep in mind that your tears are being preserved for special moments. Not necessarily during sad times, but the most beautiful and amazing tear is realeased when your tiny little heart is fulfilled and touched. Not everything can get it in there easily. Things have to penetrate in a the shape of feeling. And if this task is fulfilled, that moment will stay in there forever and you heart is filled. That is not an easy quest.

So, please. If there is a great time like that, remember it. Write it with vivid description in you heart, spirit and soul. Those time will be an encouragement in your life that stays everlasting…

The ‘Genesis’ of a Dream

Well. A new blog means a new Life, a life that is organized and satisfying.

This is the only space where I can speak up regarding all matters without useless and destructive restriction. I guess that is the beginning of the dream. (prose? Gone?)

Now, I give this blog a life, an indefinite one with numerous meanings and purposes. Suppose this blog brings people’s life into darkness, I have no responsibility over that matter. Like I say, this blog is a living organism.

here i stand, with great humility,

hoping to see your world with a deeper sight,

what I’ve seen is not the Truth of your life,

as it is covered with dust of worldly ‘philosphy’,

and the shadow of deceiving thoughts.