the-riddle

i think love between man and woman, platonic or not, or in some level of physical or brain (still physical) attractiveness
between those opposite kinds in the very moment when they fall in love, in some level, before it gets too physical, too earthly ....


Love, Godly or mundanely anyway those kinds of Love
that creates butterfly in our stomach is a Creative spirit
this kind of love is a must to Keep living, to Create something

I suspect this spirit originated from the first of human creation
I think this is way of God's loves us
That is why God creates Man and Woman
or flower and bee..
or blue and pink ..
Sun and Moon..
To express His Beauty
and Love
trough nature of his creation
that He, himself designs
Love triggers Creativity and Looks How Creative God is
can you see?

world seems dissapointing
with the middle east conflict
and horrible news from Africa
but still laugh of a kid in the street can lighten your heart, right?
or how beautiful sound of drizzle in your roof to night?

A wise man say, its one.
Smile of a kid, and blood scattered in Pakistan
is one. I can not undrestand that. But I feel its just right.

so To night, I hope everyone blessed with Love that will fill them with inspirations and creations
and reflect His Genuine way of Loving

God, do you think my writing is too cheesy?
anyway friend, lets fall in Love..
be expressive and celebrating Love

Ps: lagi mabok nih, I think mix something here... btw, i might delete this post when Im awake..:))..

I start to ask myself
why i like mediocre novels
it tells you nothing than the story of desperate lives
or a detective try to find the killer (even i know whose the killer in the middle of my reading),
or i dont know, am i too critical
belittle everything who doesn't bring sense of enlighten yet i like it
I like the way story told
i like how a story reach the peak
or how i see bad ending destroy all hundred pages before
(this also works to movie, ending is decisive)
and perfect ending save a -would-be-mediocre- book, becomes book of the year..
such as Kite Runners, damn ending. It will made you cry.
or .. i dont know, now, I read eric seagal 1958, not reaching the ending yet
while Seagal bragging about how special Harvard is..
its nothing,
like one day, a respected friend, surprised me with his catharsis trough
a trash song.. (trash clip too..)
Why human always sinking in nothingness and entertained by illusion?

After a long holiday

And rushing hours for works

Grumbling about traffic

And pimple,

And trying to be

a daughter

a friend

a scribbler

an auntie

a worker (exhausting… but, survive)

now, its weekend,

press the shutdown button

and voila!

Welcome my personal corner

Rakyat indonesia itu..
rela mati demi dua belas ribu rupiah
dihina, dipukuli, diperkosa, disetrika di negeri orang
bergelimpangan di jalan-jalan
tidur dalam gerobak
rumah di kolong jembatan habis dibakar
anak-anaknya jadi target pedhopilia
berterbangan saat tsunami
berlarian saat lari dari gempa bumi

Pejabat Indonesia itu..
merasa betul-betul pejabat kalau naik mobil lebih dari 200 juta
merasa dihormati dengan sirine yang mengaum saat dia membelah jalan raya
naik limousine di Paris saat mau minjem uang di CGI
sementara negara donor berdesakan di bis murah charteran
Senang kalau orang memuji dan mencium tangannya
Merasa bangga dengan rombongan besar yang mengikuti kemana-mana
dan sekretaris yang bisa bermain tenis

Sebagian kecil rakyat Indonesia itu,
Selalu menyetir mobil mewah dan supirnya membawa pistol
Liburan ke Eropa jadi patokan
Menyebut lawan bicara dengan Jij
Merasa puas saat tiap anaknya diberi rumah mewah lengkap dengan pudel
Menilai orang dari sepatu yang dipakai
dan bau parfumnya
Merasa bangga saat menyebut rumah di Menteng
menyumbang Hansip Kampung berlebihan supaya rumah tidak diserang
Datang ke konser Il Divo tanpa berusaha tahu artinya

Sebagian kecil rakyat Indonesia lagi,
Melihat segala kecurangan
dan kemunafikan
tanpa bisa berbuat apa-apa

dan sebagiannya lagi,
terseret kedalamnya.


Dua hari sebelum lebaran..
mohon maaf lahir dan batin, indonesiaku..

God,
this battle inside,
is it You?
Is it You?
behind all the fuss
behind all this hunger
nausea
rolling and rolling
and rolling
and those pictures keeps
inundating,
those whispers
mocking,
God,
is it You?