fuck off

I’d really like to write something which is inhumane; something that is privately mine. If Jim Morrison wanted to write as if his hand was moved by some power beyond his consciousnees, then what I want is to write stuff that absolutely belongs to me, which everybody else would certainly appreciate it as mine, because nobody from all the possible worlds can write it! nobody except me!

There’s any objection? Pardon?…it’s impossible? yeah, I already know, Mr.Wittgenstein. But, even u must admit that the life of a dream is never constrained by fact. For what sake? I don’t know. This dream doesn’t offer me much joy. Often i’m frustated because of its unattainableness. Perhaps it’s genetical. Fuck! I’m so damned if it’s true. Obviously I can’t blame my parents; I’m a mutant.

a professor’s honesty

Gatau napa gw jd sering bgt keinget potongan lecturenya natsume soseki, one of my fave writers, skitar thn 1910-an n ketawa2 sendiri krn-nya. let me share it to u guys:

“I see Professor Omori sitting in this room. We left university more or less at d same time – one year apart, I think. Mr Omori once told me that his pupils did not listen attentively to his lectures n that he found this irritating…I responded to him in a way that was, at the least, discourteous.

Pleasant surprises

well, baru aja gw dapat dua kejutan kecil yg sama2 menyenangkan dan kedua2nya berkenaan dgn what we call “apresiasi.”

james thomson

thanks to william james, I’ve found these beautifully terrifying words of james thomson:

 

” ‘O Brothers of sad lives! they are so brief;

A few short years must bring us all relief:

Can we not bear these years of laboring death?

But if you would not this poor life fulfil,

Lo, you are free to end it when you will,

Without the fear of waking after death.’

” ‘My Brother, my poor Brothers, it is thus:

This life holds nothing good for us,

But it ends soon and nevermore can be;

And we knew nothing of it ere our birth,

And shall know nothing when consigned to earth:

‘ I ponder these thoughts, and they comfort me.’ “

 

What can i say? he’s a man whose temper is completely different from mine

On untruthfulness

I was listening to this song by the doors, “i will never be untrue.” I could feel the sincerity of that will, as some of us have it sincerely. But the song for me told something else; something deeper than sincerity: the irony; that sincerity can’t guarantee its fulfilment; that we need something else to keep the promise strictly, if it ever could be done.

What is it? I don’t know; sincerity is the only thing that I could offer. Perhaps it’s not enough? It’s understandable. There’s a ghost in my machine right now, I could feel it, and u must wait ’till I find the key to expel it.   

 

Karma

Coincidences…accidents…mere lucks… 

They are the words we usually use to call events that are happening beyond our controls. They are parts of the outside sphere of our believed pattern of reality; the sphere of possibility, but not probability.

Many people like to think such sphere is not exists. That everything must be predictable, at least conceptually. I used to have this desire too and karma, for me, is the best existing option for anyone who has that need.

Now, I couldn’t believe anymore. Faith in karma becomes what James called a “dead option” for me. But, I could understand the attractiveness of the belief. It connects everything in life in one solid bond. It gives you the all-embracing explanation of the world.

A Japanese writer, Inoue, once wrote beautifully how karma is the only possible explanation of what happen to two artists who are having the same personality, ability and talent, but living a completely different reputation and prosperity. It also explains why the boxer in one of O. Henry’s short stories could never become a world champion, even though he was able to beat the champion off the ring. 

I myself am a person who believes that false explanation is worse than none. I believe karma is wrong, but don’t ask me to prove it. It’s my creed or, as Nietzsche called it, spiritual fatum. Nevertheless, I do aware that sometimes I really want to believe it; to satisfy my lust for power. 

the cow-fucking auction

 

The cow fucking auction usually opens at dawn

dunno if there’s any philosophical reason behind it

 

 

I don’t care though

It’s the place where people compete for enjoying fuck in its extremity

But, the buyer doesn’t play any role in the drama

Since the artists are so great;

Making you scared that your impurity will disclose naturally

Shame is inevitable, but at that moment, it’s pleasurable

Thus becoming an attentive benevolent spectator is the best policy

 

Don’t let the name deceives u though; it needn’t be a cow-fuck

Sometimes it has chickens; there’s some horse too

Also somebody’s niece, aunt, mum, daughter, or wife

And someone’s nephew, uncle, pap, son, or husband

Fortunately, I haven’t noticed any grandparental fuck yet

Everybody on stage is young…thus, beautiful

as if it’s the human’s sanctuary from time

 

Tomorrow is its birthday

maybe I would bring the perfect gift

 

 

yeah..yeah, I should; if the weather is right

 

 

 

blood

the red sea of energy flowing hard inside

my body contains and constrains it naturally

The guardian is pain, and pleasure is the lady killer

They impose order, force it by any means to revolve in equilibrium

But, the hot red fluid can’t understand

For it doesnt have any language of order

Maybe that’s why there always a time in our life 

When we want to bang our head till the skull cracked

Or cannot satisfy scratching the itch until the skin ripped 

Have u ever tasted yours?

Mine is kinda salty, but also sweet and bitter a little

unsleepy (again!)

3:22

back to d land

everybody I met scream:

help!!

and i asked:

what’s up?

don u c, they said, we are now in d dusk

soon it’ll be night

and death come with the dark

i must say it’s a strange dusk

the sunset reminded me of a golden phallus

penetrating the sea

entailed by scent of the end

but, fear i cant

coz i got flashlight in my hand

unsleepy

5:57

do i want sleep or do i need it?

24 hours of life, unwasted

what a bliss!

hey old freddy, i’m not ur catch

bring more wine…

if it’s running out, just break some legs

whose? dionysus of course!

needn’t cry, he will all right

kill more man, but spare the woman

or girl?…forget the age!

why?…but, why not?

they will come back again

nobody will lost nobody coz there are nobody

nihilism…

cool…

where can i buy it?…wallmart?