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.