Distraksi di Kala Deadline

Saya sedang super duper kuper banyak sekali kerjaan hari ini. Banyaknya.. tak tertahankan, namanya juga hari-hari garis kematian. Namun, seperti biasa juga, banyaaaaaaaaaaaaakkkk sekali distraksi yahhh kalo lagi deadline ginihhh... mulai dari perut yang kelaperan, listrik yang byar pet, revisi2 dari orang2 agency yang dateng silih berganti, sampe2 yang model beginian nihh...

BUZZ!!!
bittersherry: hmmm?
tiga_dua_tiga: pasyi sok ga ol deh
bittersherry: iyeeee
bittersherry: lagi deadline
bittersherry: pasti pake messenger yang versi baru deh
bittersherry: yang bisa ngeliat yang sok2 ga ol
bittersherry: huh
tiga_dua_tiga: \ngga
tiga_dua_tiga: dikasi tau venie
tiga_dua_tiga: hehhe
bittersherry: OH YA AMPUN
bittersherry: AWO
bittersherry: kampret
bittersherry: hahahahaha
bittersherry: gue lupa mulu YM lo
bittersherry: hahahahahaha
tiga_dua_tiga: kok kamu ga perhatian sih
bittersherry: ih
bittersherry: iya sayang
bittersherry: nanti aku perhatikan kamu ya
bittersherry: TAPI GA SEKARANG AH
bittersherry: SIBUK
bittersherry: kan gue punya kehidupan
bittersherry: ga kaya lo
tiga_dua_tiga: dan lo iri sama gw yang ga punya kehidupan
bittersherry: *noyor*
tiga_dua_tiga: gangguin orang deadline ah
bittersherry: sudah diam jangan biarkan pojokan kecil di toolbar saya menyala2
bittersherry: mengganggu konsentrasi saja
tiga_dua_tiga: boleh ga?
bittersherry: yaaaaaah
bittersherry: nyala orens lagi toolbarnya
bittersherry: hush hush
tiga_dua_tiga: iihh
tiga_dua_tiga: kok ga di bales sih?
tiga_dua_tiga: *maksa
bittersherry: *gampar*
tiga_dua_tiga: *tangkis (mulai lagi)
bittersherry: *lempar awo pake kancut bekas*
tiga_dua_tiga: *bales pake kondom bekas n bocor
bittersherry: *ngambil tisu, iket kondomnya ke rambut awo DENGAN PAKSA
tiga_dua_tiga: *badan gw lebih gede
tiga_dua_tiga: *kondomnya gw arahin ke muka lo
tiga_dua_tiga: *dengan LEBIH MAKSA
bittersherry: tidaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaak
bittersherry: sayaaaa tidak mau hamiiillll
bittersherry: tidaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaak
bittersherry: *lari
bittersherry: *bercucuran airmata
bittersherry: *terisak2 menembus hujan
bittersherry: *mendadak ada bunyi rem mendecit
bittersherry: *pria tampan kaya tiba2 turun dari mobil yang nyaris menabrak saya
tiga_dua_tiga: *gw yang bawa mobil
tiga_dua_tiga: *gw turun maki2 lo
bittersherry: BUKAN
bittersherry: LO GA MEMENUHI KRITERIA ITU
tiga_dua_tiga: "dasar bego, bosen idup ya"
bittersherry: *menangis terisak2..
bittersherry: "sayaa.. saya hamil.. om..."
tiga_dua_tiga: *gw naik mobil lagi
bittersherry: "ngga ada yang mau tanggung jawab..."
tiga_dua_tiga: *berlagak tuli
tiga_dua_tiga: *menginjak gas dengan sepenuh hati dan segenap jiwa
bittersherry: *ngelempar mobil pake batako
bittersherry: INI APA SEH JADI GA KERJA GUE
bittersherry: *balik lagi ngetik2*
tiga_dua_tiga: jangan dooonnnkkkkk
tiga_dua_tiga: *menangis terisak2
bittersherry: *menatap dengan mata setengah (lo pikir isakan lo MEMELAS?)
tiga_dua_tiga: *pasang mata kucing yang di film shrek
bittersherry: "gak kasian!"
bittersherry: *cabut
tiga_dua_tiga: *megangin kaki ampe keseret2
bittersherry: *kentut
bittersherry: berhasil
bittersherry: hore
bittersherry: *lari secepat kilat
bittersherry: sanaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa cari kesibukaaaaaaaaaan
tiga_dua_tiga: ada siiiiiiihh
tiga_dua_tiga: cuma kayanya lebih asik ngegodain orang deadline
bittersherry: cihhh
tiga_dua_tiga: di depan pager ..... "sisiiiiiiii...main yoook"
bittersherry: aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
bittersherry: *teriakan putus asa
tiga_dua_tiga: "siang tante
tiga_dua_tiga: "siang oomm"
tiga_dua_tiga: *udah masuk rumah
bittersherry: *nangis2 mukul lantai

......
oh mama oh papa... mengapa begitu banyak distraksi tercipta di kala deadline, kapan pula kerjaan saya ini akan selesai semuanyaaa... dan mengapa saya sempat2nya menulis entry ini...
mengapaaaaa...
mengapaaaaaaaaaaaaa..............

boo

ding dong

oh my god!

oh my god! i just have.. i really really just have to laugh... HAHAHAHAH...
oh life is such a divine comedy! better than the three stooges, better than chaplin, better than seeing your venomous enemy tripped down in an alley, better than lucy in the sky with diamond, oh maybe not better than that but still it really is equally amusing, better than crazy mushrooms, better than epiphany, better than billy bird international business traveller, better than... oh oh my... i really have to get out of this laughter, it's hurting my lung, it's choking my throat, it's... it's... it's amazing...
and the best... the best of all is... i... hahahah... am really the main actor of the divine comedy...
laugh your ass off, sisie. laugh your ass off. when people laugh at you, laugh with them!

Heiho, Let's Go and Off to Work We Go...

Heiho let’s go and off to work we go
Bring your spades I’ll bring my seeds
Heiho let’s go and off to work we go
We’ll plant a tree we’ll watch it grow
Heiho let’s go and off to work we go
You’ll whistle your song I’ll call the mother bird
To build her nest upon our homely leaves

One two three four look baby the tree has grown
The sweet little birdies baby they’re now singing
Let’s hop on now the branches baby they’re so inviting
Grab on your guitar let’s sit under its shadows
I’ll catch the falling leaves you’ll smell the sweet breeze

Heiho let’s go and off to work we go
Bring your spades I’ll bring my seeds
Heiho let’s go and off to work we go
We’ll plant a tree we’ll watch it grow
Heiho let’s go and off to work we go
You’ll whistle your song I’ll call the mother bird
To build her nest upon our homely leaves

What now baby? Now the tree has grown
Then what baby? That we made it great
If I climb the tree, baby would it be just because
I care to take care of the birdies baby
Which is of course you can see it as
Another heiho let’s go and off to work we go?
If I hug the tree ten times a day
Baby would it be just because
I care to warm up the tree
Which is of course you can see it as
Another heiho let’s go and off to work we go?
If I carry home its falling leaves each night
And stuff them inside my pillow to fill my lung with their scent
Baby would it be just because
I want to preserve its trinkets
Which of course you can see it as
Another heiho let’s go and off to work we go?

Heiho let’s go and off to work we go
Bring your spades I’ll bring my seeds
Heiho let’s go and off to work we go
We’ll plant a tree we’ll watch it grow
Heiho let’s go and off to work we go
You’ll whistle your song I’ll call the mother bird

Vincent and Sophie

why are you here?

my feet are trembling

i know but why are you here?

they have their free will

i don't believe you

talk to them if you want

they are stink

i know you still hate me

no, my hands are shaking

look i am here

what do you want now?

my heart is drumming beats

same thing here

can we hug?

no i don't think we can hug

i think so too

can we kiss?

no i don't think we can kiss

yes, that will hurt

and i will cry

i don't wanna die

i really missed you

oh fuck, did you just say that?

i'm such a cuckoo

and i always fell for you

shit, why are you saying that?

it just came out

it's too much pain

maybe you're too weak

maybe you're a hypocrite

fuck, i don't need to hear all this

i want to taste your tongue

stop, please stop, i'll die

i wish i'm dead right now

fuck, go away

dont you want to be fucked?

fuck, same old shitty you

and i miss you too

please, leave, just leave

please, after i kiss you?

why are you doing this to me?

i'll bleed, so what? i'm wounded anyway

you're killing us two

i know and i'm sorry

close your eyes, i'll kiss you

i wanna look into your eyes

close your eyes, please

so that i cant read you?

not too much to be read

yes i know, you love me too

i beg you, close your eyes

so that u'll be disappeared?

yes, but after i kiss you

Hello Clementine!

Clementine Krucyznski: Too many guys think I'm a concept, or I complete them, or I'm gonna make them alive. But I'm just a fucked-up girl who's lookin' for my own peace of mind; don't assign me yours.

Me: You said that to Joel? Touche, Clementine. Touche...

adopsi mereka sebelum disuntik mati! hiks....

Anjing-anjing ini ada di penampungan anjing di PENGAYOMAN RAGUNAN.
Karena banyaknya populasi anjing yang tidak terurus maka anjing-anjing ini terancam di SUNTIK MATI jika masih belum ada orang yang mau mengadopsinya.

Mohon kebaikan teman-teman untuk menyebarluaskan informasi ini dan menanyakan kepada relasi, teman kerja, teman kuliah dll siapa tau ada yang terketuk hatinya untuk mengambil anjing-anjing ini dan memeliharanya di rumah mereka.

Untuk informasi lebih lengkap bisa menghubungi langsung ke pengayoman tersebut / tanya no. pengayoman tersebut ke RS anjing di no. 6515262. kl tertarik untuk adopsi bisa telepon 7804993 atau ke pak herman di 08119634280

NOTE: KALO MINAT LANGSUNG TELPON KE CONTACT NUMBERNYA AJA, jangan ke saya...INI CUMAN TITIPAN info dr temen

(Hayo hayo..yg berminat untuk pelihara anjing...kasian mereka...)

the list of useless skills

Inspired by Cherry Darling in Planet Terror grindhouse, I too decided to make a list of useless skills of my own. One day, maybe, as Dr. Dakota Block put it "at some point in your life, you find a use for every useless talent you ever had. It's like connecting the dots"...

*crossing fingers*

So, here's a few that i can think of for now...
useless skill #01
I can twist, twirl, twine, spin and roll my tongue real good

useless skill #02
I can move my ears backward and forward

useless skill #03
I can speak manadonese

useless skill #04
I can make cats fell asleep

useless skill #05
I can make funny noises with my toes

useless skill #06
I can generate puns and riddles in minutes count

useless skill #07
I can give a very good head massage

useless skill #08
I can sing lotsa songs from Betharia Sonata's era

useless skill #09
I can blow spit bubbles

useless skill #10
I know lines from Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind by heart

useless skill #11
I can fall asleep floating on my back in a swimming pool

useless skill #12
I can eat really fast

useless skill #13
I can make rainbows from water and oil

useless skill #14
I can interpret dreams

useless skill #15
I can make a drama out of anything

and still counting....

And we're always amazed...

Terlalu banyak Pippi Langstrump mengalir dalam darah kita, lalu panjat pohonnya dan terdamparlah kita di Negeri Tuka-Tuka, melihat bintang timur lalu menghisap Cerutu Sang Pharaoh. Kunang-kunang, Enid! Kunang-kunang! Bintang jatuhkah atau kembang api? Kita terlalu mudah terdistraksi oleh benda-benda yang mengeluarkan cahaya. Kita menerawang diatas atap rumah, aku berbisik, bahkan nama belakangnya pun seperti magnet yang membuat radarku berpijar. Kamu lalu tidak mau kalah, "nama belakang ia, yang tertangkap lampu mercusuarku," katamu, "selalu digambarkan dengan cahaya yang turun dari langit". Semiotika, aku tahu. Tapi somehow betul juga itu. Seperti anak kecil, menyusun nama belakang, tapi kita memang berusia tujuh tahun, berlari-lari di padang rumput, meniup gelembung sabun dan mengejar kupu-kupu. Kamu menemukan pohon oak besar yang ingin kaupanjat, aku menengadah, 'is it actually safe?'. 'It is', you said. Then I climbed up the tree, lalu melihat gumpalan-gumpalan awan yang menggelembung di langit biru. 'Yang itu berbentuk roket yang hendak diterbangkan ke bulan!' katamu, 'it really looks more like one quasiphallical object', i said. Lalu kamu memandangku dengan heran. Aku tidak peduli, aku sedang menggambar dengan crayon, kamu mengamati, lalu kita terheran-heran menikmati semesta.

To be continued...

Fox in the Snow

Fox in the snow, where do you go
To find something you can eat?
Cause the word out on the street is you are starving
Dont let yourself grow hungry now
Dont let yourself grow cold
Fox in the snow

Girl in the snow, where will you go
To find someone that will do?
To tell someone all the truth before it kills you
They listen to your crazy laugh
Before you hang a right
And disappear from sight
What do they know anyway?
Youll read it in a book
What do they know anyway?
Youll read it in a book tonight

Boy on the bike, what are you like
As you cycle round the town?
Youre going up, youre going down
Youre going nowhere
Its not as if theyre paying you
Its not as if its fun
At least not anymore
When your legs are black and blue
Its time to take a break
When your legs are black and blue
Its time to take a holiday

Kid in the snow, way to go
It only happens once a year
It only happens once a lifetime
Make the most of it
Second just to being born
Second to dying to
What else could you do?

*song by Belle and Sebastian

hm..hm..hm... :) si rubah saljuuuuuuuuu....

Bubble of Thoughts

No we're not born with wings behind our backs
Yes we have fins instead and that's the fact

Inside the glass things could get a little hazy, unclear and blurry
But it's bubble of the thoughts, dear
Ploppin out from your head, dear
Up unto the water surface...

Bubble of thoughts, thousands of them, dispersing themselves,
Disappear into the air
I see you swimming around, dear
Swimming swimming around, dear
On the other side of the glass

Chorus:
Give me the strength for the clang clang
It's much warmer than you think
It's waiting for you
A fear which takes you to the bang bang
But only fate divides us
I see in you
Shoulder to shoulder in the end
Shoulder to shoulder in the end

Please don't shatter the glass, dear
You'd only hurt your nose, dear

You cant shatter the glass,
Why don't you hold on tight
To the bubble of thoughts and
Jump, jump, jump, jump

a song by riddlereverie (is that the fixed name, eh? hihihihi...)

The Burka Band

I incidentally stumbled upon this article, it was actually dated years ago, and the core of the issue is really, nothing new. Still it's amuse me nonetheless, in a sad and loathsome kind of way. Kudos to the girls, though. I hope they’re still alive up to now, and not beheaded by some nauseating religious militants. I mean, for freak’s sake, this could very well happen anywhere, in some countries where, in the name of the religion, people feel they have the right to butcher people and their property. Shoveling their sickening pseudo-norms and morality in the name of their belief everywhere. Oh, wait a minute, did I just say some countries? Emm… countries like our country? Oh yah well…

Anyway, here’s the complete article…

The Burka Band

By Michael Lund and Signe Daugbjerg

- Blueee, burka blue, sings the lead singer on the tv, while another woman plays the drums and a third the guitar.

The three girls make small dancesteps and swing the microphone as you would in any other girl band. But there is one big difference. The three girls all wear the Afghan burka, the blue dress that covers a woman from head to toe.

25-year-old Nargiz laughs when she shows us the video in Kabul , the capital of Afghanistan . She is one of the three girls who started the Burka Band two years ago.

- It was a lot of fun, but also very scary. Afghanistan is still a very dangerous place for modern women, and when we shot the video we had to do it very discreetely because no one could know that we were playing music, says Nargiz.

Hidden recording

Nargiz started the Burka Band when she met a German music producer in Kabul in late 2002. The producer was teaching Afghans to play modern music, and Nargiz learned to play the drums. One day she wondered why all the burkas in Kabul were blue, and together with two friends she wrote the song "Burka Blue" which is about burkas and the way you feel when you wear them. The song was recorded in Kabul with help from the German producers. The band would rehearse behind locked doors, so nobody would find out that the women were playing music. The burka also helped hide who the bandmembers really were.

- Of course it was a joke to sing in the burkas, but it was also necessary to wear them. If people in Afghanistan knew who the members of the Burka Band were, we could be attacked or killed because there are still a lot of religious fanatics here, says Nargiz, who hasn't told any of her friends that she has played in the Burka Band.

In 2003 the German record label Ata Tak released the song in Germany and the song became a hit in German clubs after it had been remixed by a german DJ. The Burka Band even performed at a big concert in Köln during a trip to Germany . Unfortunately, Nargiz couldn't join the band in Köln because she had to work, but she followed all the hype from her home in Kabul .

Too dangerous to sing

- At first I didn't believe it, when the German producer told me the song was a hit in Germany . It was fantastic, but at the same time, we also worried that somebody in Afghanistan would find out who we were because of all the attention, remembers Nargiz, who estimates that only 10 people in Afghanistan actually know who the faces behind the burkas in the band belong to.

The Burka Band has never performed in Afghanistan and at the moment the band is not active. During the Taliban regime music was totally forbidden, and women were not allowed to work. To sing in public could carry a death sentence. Today the country is still very conservative, and there is no market in Afghanistan for the Burka Band's music. The band members have to wait for a European or American record label to help them if they are to make a whole album one day.

- I'd like to play again, but right now it is not possible. Last year there was a big bomb at a concert here in Kabul , and lots of people are still against female singers because the religous leaders condemn it. It will probably take 10 years before we will have real girl bands here in Afghanistan , says Nargiz, who now works in an international organisation in Kabul .

The lead singer of the Burka Band has gone to Pakistan because she can't sing in Afghanistan , and the guitarist has a regular job.

Today the only place to see the Burka Band is on the video. On the screen the first and only Afghan girl band plays on with their headphones on the burka-covered heads and the drumsticks swinging. The lyrics go:

- My mother wears a burka, I must wear a burka too. We all wear a burka, we don't know who is who. Blueee, burka blue.

Nargiz's name has been changed to secure her anonymity.

Info box:
The land of no music

When the religious Taliban-movement was in power in Afghanistan they banned all music because they thought singing and dancing was the work of the devil. People listening to music would be beaten or put in prison. Watching television, flying kites and wearing make-up was also forbidden for more than five years and women were forced to wear a burka.

In 2001 the Taliban was ousted from power by a coalition led by the Americans and today the country is moving towards democracy. However, Afghanistan is still a very conservative country and many Afghans feel that especially women shouldn't play music.

i feel

alone
surrounded by all these
i know i should feel
content

i
am
not

picture was taken from www.ravendance.com

I am not sad

I'm not sad because of what you did.
I probably deserved that anyway.
I'm sad because I know I wont allow myself to forgive you for doing that.
It makes me sad to think of it that way.

hahaha

sayang..

dammit. ini cuma proses.

Things Happened When You're Twenty Something (Part I)

Kejadiannya pas gue lagi belanja jins bareng si mamah. Berhubung dibayarin, jadilah gue seneng2 aja nemenin doi keliling2 beli jins baru. Sampai tibalah saatnya gue memilih jins yang gue inginkan…

Mas2 yang jaga toko: Size-nya apa, mbak?

Gue: Hmmm… S kayanya mas. Atau nomer yang paling kecil aja deh. Biasanya saya pake ukuran yang paling kecil soalnya.

Mas2 yang jaga toko: *menatap dengan pandangan gak yakin* S, mbak?

Gue: *sensi dengan tatapan si mas2 yang gak yakin sambil ngambilin jins dengan size permintaan gue* Iya, saya biasa pake yang S.

Mas2 yang jaga toko: *ngasih jins dengan nggak rela* Ini, mbak. Mau nyobain yang M sekalian?

Gue: *sensi, senewen dan mulai melirik dengan sebel* Hmph, ya udah deh sini, sekalian.

Jadilah, gue masuk ke kamar pas dengan membawa dua potong jins warna washout black yang emang gue pengenin sejak lama itu, ukuran S dan M. Si jins ukuran M tentu aja gue lirik dengan lirikan seperti yang bisa diberikan oleh seorang ibu tiri pada keponakan jauh anak tirinya, sambil menggantungnya di gantungan baju dengan cukup jumawa. Lalu mulailah gue nyobain si jins ukuran S. Gerakan doyong-doyong ke kiri dan ke kanan ketika memasukkan ujung kaki ke celana gue anggap sebagai hal yang normal, alah.. ini mah emang biasa atuh.. jins jaman sekarang emang potongannya bikin doyong-doyong kalo mau dipake saking cucutnya ujungnya. Mulai agak naik ke atas, doyong2an gue makin seru, tapi gue teteup semangat dan percaya kalo ini emang cuma efek potongan jins dan emang harus begitulah adanya. Barulah ketika doyong2an gue itu sudah menjadi lompat2an agak heboh ketika sudah sampai ke bagian paha nyaris pinggul, gue mulai tertegun. ‘Ada sesuatu yang salah di sini. Sumpah. Saya tidak tau apa, tapi rasanya benar2 ada sesuatu yang salah!’ Lalu karena gue nggak suka melakukan sesuatu yang terasa salah (serem, takut dosa), maka dengan lunglai gue membuka kembali jins ukuran S yang nggak sukses nyampe bagian paha nyaris pinggul itu.

Samar-samar, gue seperti ngedenger suara cekikikan dari arah si jins ukuran M yang gue gantung . ‘Oh faaaaaiiinnnn... sini lo kampret, gue pake!’ dan akhirnya gue putuskan untuk nyobain si jins ukuran M itu juga. Pas gue cobain, gerakan doyong2 masih terjadi (bener kan, itu mah efek potongan jins jaman sekarang!), sampe bagian paha, mulai terasa sempit, namun dimana ada kemauan di situ ada jalan, maka dengan sedikit gerakan2 memaksa, berhasil lah jins itu memeluk pinggul gue dengan sempurna. ‘Ah! There you are! Sial, ukuran gue M ternyata!’ tapi itu sebelum gue mencoba mengancingkan jins itu.... dan.. dan.. dan gak muaaaaaaaaaaattttttttt!!!!

*sakit hati*

*berlinang air mata*

Hari itu, gue tetep membeli jins berukuran M itu, karena ukuran gue bukan L. Sumpah bukan L, gue cuma perlu beberapa minggu lari pagi.

huhuhuuuu...

“Iteman, si?”

“Wow! You got your tan!”

“Deeeuuu yang baru liburaaaan...”

Balik dari Bali dengan kulit yang gosong sentosa, gue jadi familiar sama komentar2 macem begituan. Emang, main panas2an tiap hari bikin kulit gue jadi item. Tapi kan udah gue bilang, gak peduli juga sih, soalnya sebanding banget sama segala hal2 cihuy under the sun yang gue lakuin di sana. Jadi, komentar2 seputar kulit gue yang iteman selalu gue jawab dengan cengiran jumawa. Tapi itu sebelum kejadian sore ini pas gue lagi sok gaya luluran di salon. Si mbak2 kapster yang ramah dan murah senyum itu tiba2 nanya sama gue...

“Cowoknya bule ya, mbak?”*

Kampret! Kok gue sebel yahhhh... jadi maksuth lo apeeee? Gue setipe sama cewek2 cem2annya buleeeeeee???? Huaaa... gue tau si mbak2 itu gak bermaksud nyebelin, orang cuma ngomong cowoknya bule doang, huhuuuu, dan kaga ada hubungannya, temen gue aja banyak yang cowoknya bule dan mereka juga cihuy2 aja kok. Tapi tetep ajaaaa... huhuuuu... gue benci stereotipeeeee...

Hella Bali (Part I)

Oh yeah what the hell. This morning I gave a metal sign to my reflection on the mirror. Screw these utterly atrocious-looking pimples, that went sprouting and blossoming in every available lease on my face like the spring of July. Screw these beautifully mangy complexion, the flawless dirt-colored skin of mine, the hopelessly tousled hair, screw them all, screw them all. How would I, o godhead, ever complained, upon these fantabulous days I had. When I got to lie down at the sandy beach of Kuta in the stark of the night, the first night I arrived here. Looking at the stars and watching them colors swirling and twirling before me. When I got to see bits by bits of sands went elevated, floating like bubbles up to the effervescent sky. Clouds of aurora dancing and musing in slow motion, eating and rolling the twinkling stars in the hay. When I got to sing to every Beatles' song I know with the band of the sea playing the waves melody serenading every tune I made. I felt the utmost kindness overflowing in my blood stream, gushing in every heartbeat. I felt beautiful, I felt unruffled, calm and ecstatic at the same time, so elevated, I felt that there should be a song dedicated to my splendiferous being. “I should live and die by the sea! This is across the universe, floating in the sky like diamond. This is blackbird singing in the dead of night, and if you want me to, I will! I will!” Darn crazy mushroom!

The second night here, I wandered around, I gazed at the loitering crowds of Legian roaming around upon the noisy night, back and forth, back and forth. I took some sips, and the trip then brought me to a square room where everything was black and white. I felt a little bit claustrophobic, but it didn't take me away from noticing them shadows making lazy motions on the wall. It was quiescent, yet exhiliarating. I turned the tv on and meditated upon the dramatic sounds they played in every movie score. The fact that I felt overwhelmed with pulses of enlightment after watching The House of Wax, made me understand why they made the word 'crazy' embedded with the complete phrase.

The next day, off to dreamland I went. After bathed in a little bit of rain of adrenalines in Benoa. A little bit, I said. Not that much. I happened to think that human-made rain of adrenaline couldn't even go as close to the rhapsodic ecstasy offered by the nature-produced substances. Not that I didn't gorge every single drip of adrenaline offered, though. And dreamland was beautiful, the strikingly clear blue sky, the clean white sands, I dipped my feet beneath and felt the coolness of it dampening my sunbaked toes. I waved the sun good sleep as it went setting down.

On the fifth day, I went to Amed. Impressively far, we went through all these beautiful remote villages in Bali. Made a stop at Amlapura for breakfast, the place were stunning with oldschool Dutch architectural buildings adorning the traditional market. It's not until two hours later that we finally reached Eco-Dive, the diving site of our destination. Once again I bode my ignorance upon the beady-eyed sunshine. It was 12 at noon, I couldn't even care less how the lumbering weight of my scuba tank hurt my spine as I dragged myself as close as I can to the sea shore. Sun was warm and the burden on my back got lighter and lighter as I drown myself deeper and deeper. It was miraculous down there, indeed. School of fish in sparkling color were fluttering all around me, I touched the nearest anemones that waved upon me flirtatiously. It was soft and jelly-like. Upon my head the rays were penetrating the sea surface, like the swords of light diffusing everything on their ways. I chased a yellow fish with blue lines on its fins that swam right in front of my nose, but I was too joyous, the burst of air bubbles dazzled my sight out of the flickering little fish. I lost any track of time and space, though I wasn't failed to remind myself to look at my air gauge every once in awhile. It's not until Made, my dive-buddy, softly pulled my left flipper, that I saw his thumb pointed upwards, a sign to greet the surface at last. I took off my goggles, and Made was a bit startled. “You're bleeding.” He said, pointed out at my nose. “Am I?”, I wiped my nose off and saw lines of red smearing the back of my palm. It must be the air pressure down there, I was too happy chasing the fish I rarely equalized. It was nothing serious, though. Nothing that could beat the fun I felt that day.

So how could I complain about all these sunburn pain, the ache in my ear, and the flakes on my head? When I'm writing this while lying lazily under the sun that shines brightly upon the sandy beach of Kuta. How dare I could ever complained? Just bring me more arak attack, and some more bacons, please!

Menahun

aku ingin mabuk menahun :) kuingin ambil semua zat sedatif yang tersebar di udara lalu menyatu dengan debu dinding. agar tidak kuingat lagi kala air matamu kutampung dalam botol-botol kaca, lalu kusimpan tersusun rapi dalam lemari. terberi label nama dan khasiat. dahaga lepas tapi pipimu pias. agar tidak kuingat lagi kala jantungmu, hatimu, paru-paru yang menderukan napasmu adalah bantalan empuk untuk jarum-jarum jahitku, sebelum mulai kuuntai benang dan kutisik lagi selimut mimpi kita. agar tidak kuingat lagi kala setiap ruam syaraf otakmu terasuki jaring laba-laba yang kupintal panjang berujung pada rambut yang kuminta kamu belai setiap hari kita bermimpi.
aku ingin mabuk menahun.
aku ingin memikirkan kalau kamar tempat aku tidur adalah sebuah pulau kecil sunyi berbentuk tanda koma.

Desember

Selalu ada yang bernyanyi dan berelegi

Di balik awan hitam

Semoga ada yang menerangi sisi gelap ini

Menanti..

Seperti pelangi setia menunggu hujan reda

Aku selalu suka sehabis hujan di bulan Desember

Di bulan Desember...

Sampai nanti ketika hujan tak lagi

Meneteskan duka meretas luka

Sampai hujan memulihkan luka...

*song by erk



dan apalagi yang bisa kubilang kali ini karena sungguh persediaan pura-pura ku sudah menguap terbuang ke sudut-sudut ruangan...

Always Look On The Bright Side of Life...

Some things in life are bad
They can really make you mad
Other things just make you swear and curse.
When you're chewing on life's gristle
Don't grumble, give a whistle
And this'll help things turn out for the best...

And...always look on the bright side of life...
Always look on the light side of life...

If life seems jolly rotten
There's something you've forgotten
And that's to laugh and smile and dance and sing.
When you're feeling in the dumps
Don't be silly chumps
Just purse your lips and whistle - that's the thing.

And...always look on the bright side of life...
Always look on the light side of life...

For life is quite absurd
And death's the final word
You must always face the curtain with a bow.
Forget about your sin - give the audience a grin
Enjoy it - it's your last chance anyhow.

So always look on the bright side of death
Just before you draw your terminal breath

Life's a piece of shit
When you look at it
Life's a laugh and death's a joke, it's true.
You'll see it's all a show
Keep 'em laughing as you go
Just remember that the last laugh is on you.

And always look on the bright side of life...
Always look on the right side of life...
(Come on guys, cheer up!)
Always look on the bright side of life...
Always look on the bright side of life...
(Worse things happen at sea, you know.)
Always look on the bright side of life...
(I mean - what have you got to lose?)
(You know, you come from nothing - you're going back to nothing.
What have you lost? Nothing!)
Always look on the right side of life...

This song is from Life of Brian, Monty Python. Sing Sisie sing! hufffffff...
image was taken from trishbeeuk.blogspot.com

Always Look On the Bright Side of Life

Some things in life are bad
They can really make you mad
Other things just make you swear and curse.
When you're chewing on life's gristle
Don't grumble, give a whistle
And this'll help things turn out for the best...

And...always look on the bright side of life...
Always look on the light side of life...

If life seems jolly rotten
There's something you've forgotten
And that's to laugh and smile and dance and sing.
When you're feeling in the dumps
Don't be silly chumps
Just purse your lips and whistle - that's the thing.

And...always look on the bright side of life...
Always look on the light side of life...
For life is quite absurd
And death's the final word
You must always face the curtain with a bow.
Forget about your sin - give the audience a grin
Enjoy it - it's your last chance anyhow.

So always look on the bright side of death
Just before you draw your terminal breath

Life's a piece of shit
When you look at it
Life's a laugh and death's a joke, it's true.
You'll see it's all a show
Keep 'em laughing as you go
Just remember that the last laugh is on you.

And always look on the bright side of life...
Always look on the right side of life...
(Come on guys, cheer up!)
Always look on the bright side of life...
Always look on the bright side of life...
(Worse things happen at sea, you know.)
Always look on the bright side of life...
(I mean - what have you got to lose?)
(You know, you come from nothing - you're going back to nothing.
What have you lost? Nothing!)
Always look on the right side of life...

from Monty Python, image was taken from trishbeeuk.blogspot.com/

hai dan halo

hai halo. saya kembali. setelah hiatus sekian lama karena beratus juta hal, teknis maupun tidak begitu teknis sampe yang dicari-cari. blog saya kembali lagi. dan saya akan menulis lagi. saya janji. sekarang itu dulu lah.

sampai jumpa.
-sie-

put a smile on your face and make the world a better place

i dont need make-ups, or masks, i never do. i just have to smear that paste upon my lips and put on that drawing i made before.
beeyatch.
should i wait a few more days before i really ask? would that make much of a difference?

almost eight, i should go home now. my body's falling apart.
too tired to write, yet i got so many things to scream out.
oh i'm such a very nice girl, am not i?

-sie-

*artwork by Amanda Walujo

not pretty enough?

Am I not pretty enough
Is my heart too broken
Do I cry too much
Am I too outspoken
Don't I make you laugh
Should I try it harder
Why do you see right through me

I live
I breathe
I let it rain on me
I sleep
I wake
I try hard not to break
I crave
I love
I've waited long enough
I try as hard as I can

chorus

I laugh
I feel
I make believe it's real
I fall
I freeze
I pray down on my knees
I hope
I stand,
I take it like a man
I try as hard as I can

chorus

why do you see
why do you see
why do you see
why do you see right through me

*Kasey Chambers

in the middle of OTAK NGEHANG... sialaaaann padahal minggu depan deadline kerjaan gue baru kelar 10% doang... dan OTAK gue NGEHANG... @nj**G!!
anyway, currently listening to this tune, and it's just me being too sappy but this song really touches.
-sie-

nyam!

i know who i want to take me home :)
and i think it's beautiful

-sie-

addictedtowhat?

I don't wanna get married.
I just want to feel loved for the rest of my life until I die.
If marriage means a way to keep the one you love from leaving you when they feel like leaving you and they want to leave you because they no longer love you anymore and no longer loving you would mean that they would stop sharing and giving love to you and making you feel loved,
Then I don't wanna get married.
I want to feel loved for the rest of my life until I die.
You can go as far as you want,
You can drift away and never come back
I will not hold myself from wanting to feel loved for the rest of my life until I die.

-sie-

*picture was taken from the Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind

I should be thinking about some other more important questions in life but I cant stop myself thinking about these...

How do you define infidelity? How do you define unfaithfulness? Does holding hand in hand with the opposite sex other than your partner means that you are unfaithful? Does thinking of having sex with another person makes you unfaithful? Does seeing pornographic material or some show in the chatroom means that you are not faithful to your partner? Does looking at some girl or boy masturbating in the webcam for you can be defined as unfaithful?
How about cybersex?
How about phonesex?
Or some fucking sms-sex, whatever that means...
Okay, let's change the question.
What does fidelity mean anyway?
Is there actually such concept in life?
Answer
Answer
Answer please

-sie-

Ramadan

I used to love this song so much when I was a kid, aged six or seven. I remember, I used to listen to this song every ramadan, played in my dad working room, always after he had finished his Tarawih pray (he didnt usually do his Tarawih pray in the mosque) and read some Koran verses. He always played this Bimbo song, 'Rindu Kami Padamu' along with other Bimbo's songs of course. But this song was the one I love the best. Back then, I thought the song was beautiful, It describes one's love for his prophet, his longing to feel the sincere and peaceful love of his prophet. I still think that it is a beautiful song.

Rindu Kami Padamu

Rindu kami padamu ya rasul rindu tiada terperi
berabad jarak darimu ya rasul
serasa dikau di sini

cinta ikhlasmu pada manusia
bagai cahaya suarga
dapatkah kami membalas cintamu
secara bersahaja

rindu kami padamu ya rasul
rindu tiada terperi
berabad jarak darimu ya rasul
serasa dikau di sini

cinta ikhlasmu pada manusia
bagai cahaya suarga
dapatkah kami membalas cintamu
secara bersahaja


Back then, when I used to listen to this song, I never knew that there are people that would threat me to death if I wont cover my body with their so called 'decent' clothes, if I speak up my mind and trying to question things that I think need to be questioned, if I try to find answers with my own efforts and wont surrender myself to their rigid and unquestionable rules, if I want to love my God, and my prophet with my own way.
I wonder, if Muhammad still alive, would he want to kill me too like all those people?
I might know nothing about Muhammad but if those evil people who want to behead other people because they are different to them really believe that whatever they're doing is within the guidelines of Muhammad and the religion he taught us (with all their jargons of jihad and bagaimana mereka meneladani Muhammad), I dont think I would want to have such an evil and violent prophet to guide my way.
I prefer a more peaceful and loving prophet.
Maybe it's just a matter of interpretation.

Happy Ramadan, everyone.

-sie-

absurd sekali hidup ini yah?

baby, yes you baby, one that i love really really dear...
i'm only twelve while you are eighteen
every single thing that excites me is just another mundane for you
this you already knew, that you found unsurprising
been there done that
you said
well
no baby
i havent been there and that i havent done
baby baby baby
if it's for me, would you want to do stupid things and
pretend that it is so excitingly new for you too?
then we can drown ourselves in thrill
while holding hand together looking one to another
before we close our eyes together
anticipating the waves of fun swept us overjoyed?

-sie-

Haloscan commenting and trackback have been added to this blog.

the dining dead

Dinner at Kang's again. Are we like those poor couples, you feel sorry for in the restaurant? Are we the dining dead? I cant stand the idea of us being a couple people think that about…
Joel : How's the chicken?
Clementine : Good. More?
Joel : No. No. Thank you.

*taken from Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind

Days and days and weeks and here comes the year. Of constant talking. Some say it is called communication. And communication is the key to the healthy relationship. It helps you to know each other better. But constantly talking doesn't necessarily means communicating. And if you keep on talking and talking and talking and explaining and opening your self up, whatever will happen when everything is all exposed? Done exposed? Period. All your thoughts then got all dug up, all your point of views and beliefs and stances got all unfurled and arrayed, all your cute little hidden dreams got all discovered, all your biggest fears, all your most shameful experiences? Whatever will happen next? What will make me think that YOU are interesting baby? All that interesting about you I already know. You are like this one my very favorite book. My most favorite book of all. I read you over and over and over and over again, I drowned myself in your crazy and wicked adventures again and again and again, now I even know every fucking single detail of the story of the book, every hidden corner, every dialogue the characters make, like I can even tell everything about the book without even reading it, with my eyes closed. Like, I know what will happen next to the hero, what will he say next and how he will get his victory. Then, baby, tell me, even though that book is my favorite book, will I still consider it interesting if I already know everything about the book? Of course I wont discard that book, because I love that book so much, but I would probably just leave the book in my book shelf, while beginning to look for something interesting to read. Not necessarily needs to be more interesting, for I know that I might not find some other book that really suits my interest like that my one favorite book, but you know... some other book that will give me something new interesting things to dig out, to discover, to unfurl...

Honey I am so lost in this thought. Help me out?

-sie-

automendification machine

I own this machine called an automendification machine.

Like its name, it works by automatically mend things

that are in need to be mended.

For its fuel, it uses anything in me that can be burnt.

picture was taken from: www.kcdawncreation.com

-sie-

depressive senseless irritation and endless furious aggravation

I say. Just kill me. Kill me quick and painless. Get over this phrenic bursting rollercoaster already. Stop torturing me every fucking single month with this depressive senseless irritation and endless furious aggravation. After writing a full page of tirade which contained exactly forty-three 'bitch' words in it and ninety-eight 'fuck/fucking' words addressed to my beloved roommate (only of course I would not want to post the writing here for the sake of avoiding some unnecessary and rather unworthy friction) and getting so raged when my boyfriend actually used the word 'expendable' to justify his argument why he thinks it is rational for him to risk his own life by dragging wherever he goes his fellow soldier's dead flesh when he's in the middle of the war (ah, the fucking long debate that I think would even be too long to be put here, well maybe later some other time). Not too mention, impulsively spending more than forty thousand rupiahs just for food today. And gotten really fucking sappily overdramatic when my boyfriend didn't call, frigging really sensitive and irritated with someone else's laughter, and had made five slaughter plans in my head today for five different persons that I found really got into my nerves today. And I feel stupid and I feel that nobody likes me and I seriously think that my boyfriend should come here and give me a hug and say sweet things to me. HAH! But of course that wouldn't happen. I want to slit some throats. One of my friends just said that he had a sore throat. Why, my friend, why don't you come here and show that velvety throat to me, maybe I can do you a favor to get rid off your sore. See, if I slit your throat, you won’t feel any sore no more. Now for that I can be one hundred percent sure.

-arghed me-

something surreal in the morning

merokok dji sam soe jam enam pagi dengan cahaya kamar redup redup gimana gitu membuat review CD Sitting On Anything Cold dan sebuah band death metal bernama death vomit (heck why do people really love to groooowwwlll in death metal, dont they know that dead people dont groooowwwwwllll? dead people are dead, what else do you expect???), jempol agak sedikit dingin dingin beku butuh kehangatan gitu, dengan teman sekamar yang setengah telanjang lagi berpelukan sama teman tidurnya. i hope they dont wake up. oh please dear lord dont let them wake up and wiggle again. nap. exactly, the power of wishing something for not happening, they tend to happen. shit. and they wiggle again. right beside me. like um fifteen centimetres next to me. and they wiggle. wiggle. wiggle. hands everywhere. shit. i cant help but notice. oh dear lord please let me concentrate on this guy's groooowwwll in my PC's speakers, whatever it is that he's grooooowwwwl-ing about. fuck. i cant. oh they change position. i want to choke my roommate's neck. nah. dont have the right to. just smoke again baby smoke. hey i make love better than her. i make better move. fuck. concentrate here, sisie. hey what if i join them?. PLAK. i slap my own head. smokesmokesmokesmoke again. oh dead guy from the cd how i love that u are growling.

-sie-

EQ sh*tes...

The bitch might be a champion dramaqueen but she surely scores best in handling emotion. Ironicly, that was also the very reason why her boyfriend decided to leave her once. ahahaha. And you thought life is so boring... :p

Your EQ is 153

50 or less: Thanks for answering honestly. Now get yourself a shrink, quick! 51-70: When it comes to understanding human emotions, you'd have better luck understanding Chinese. 71-90: You've got more emotional intelligence than the average frat boy. Barely. 91-110: You're average. It's easy to predict how you'll react to things. But anyone could have guessed that. 111-130: You usually have it going on emotionally, but roadblocks tend to land you on your butt. 131-150: You are remarkable when it comes to relating with others. Only the biggest losers get under your skin. 150+: Two possibilities - you've either out "Dr. Phil-ed" Dr. Phil... or you're a dirty liar.

What's Your EQ (Emotional Intelligence Quotient)?

told you told you told you

of out there out there
told you i'm going to be out of there soon!
wish me good luck guys! :)

body and soul

it's just the body i'm selling not my soul
it's just the body i'm selling not my soul
fluttering wings
what's the use the wings that flutter
but cant fly
closed eyes filled tears
but it's just
it's just the body i'm selling not my soul
you know?
................
but how do you know which one's your body
and which one's your soul?

-sie-

picture was taken from www.onlyinhouston.org

salaamm postmopoliteeess!

You scored as Postmodernist. Postmodernism is the belief in complete open interpretation. You see the universe as a collection of information with varying ways of putting it together. There is no absolute truth for you; even the most hardened facts are open to interpretation. Meaning relies on context and even the language you use to describe things should be subject to analysis. Existentialist 88% Postmodernist 88% Modernist 81% Cultural Creative 69% Materialist 63% Romanticist 56% Idealist 38% Fundamentalist 31% What is Your World View? (updated) created with QuizFarm.com

the night of the world cup final

Alone in my room, 9.40 PM. Boyfriend was gone out with the boys, having some beers they said before watching the world cup final at the town square. My feet were itching of the foot cream after waxing. The sublime irony of the pain and the beauty. They looked beautiful, hairless, smooth, smelled nice of lavender and mint, the smell of my foot cream. I love the look and the smell of it. Only he didnt notice.
If only he would notice. If only he would say something. It was too trivial, I guess. His girlfriend newly hairless feet, with the sweet smell of lavender and mint. How would he possibly know that there were indeed several strands of hair were gone from his girlfriend's feet? That’s just too absurd.
But at least he could say something about the hair? His girlfriend's newly dyed hair. Dark cobalt blue. Just been dyed this morning when he was once again out finishing his work in the office. It's Sunday, and he's not even home all day. He ought to know that Sunday is my only day off. Having to work from ten to seven every single day from Monday to Saturday, he ought to know that Sunday is my only day to enjoy myself all day. And when it comes to enjoying something, I always want to share it with the one I love. It's him the one I love and it's me I want to share.
But he's been out all day and this Sunday I was alone enjoying myself.
Funny how the word 'enjoying myself' sounds very much quite similar with the word 'lonely' when he's not around.
I made myself some coffee. Black, as usual. Past the mirror when I went back to my room with a cup of coffee in my hand. I took a quick glance and realized that the color of my hair was not that different from before. There was a vague sheer of dark blue gleaming subtly. But that was it. No wonder that he didnt notice.
I sipped my coffee while carefully choosing the book that I wanted to read for the night. Old Lewis Caroll's Through the Looking Glass. When the emotion's sprinkled here and there, mixed up in disarray, you would want to read something surreal.
Maybe it's true that I was too melodramatic, but I missed him, fucking chronically.
And of all the days in the world, this sappy feeling came at the night of the world cup final, where everybody in this fucking world was busy fussing about Zinedine Zidane, Gennaro Gattuso, Francesco Totti, Thierry Henry, blafblafblaf. Of course nobody would notice about some girl's newly dyed hair, or her hairless feet that smell really really nice.
Or how I would really love to share myself that night.

-sie-

Ps: all the setting and the characters were made up. Any similarity with the real life would just be a coincident.

the curse of SamsonS

Do you believe in curses? I dont. But I begin to do. I think I'm being cursed, wickedly, by this guy, this pretentious kitschy guy who sang some unforgivable song about his raunchiness of being touched by thousands of women while shamelessly flaunting that his sole purpose in life is to chase the chicks. (You know what song I mean, right? Oh please... it's eekingly everywhere in town, so happening it invades your life like Paris Hilton and her inevitable phrase of "OH...itu panaassss")
Right. So, I had placed this guy and the rest of his band beneath my contempt. I cant even count all the sarcastic remarks I've given to them. And now, I'm truly cursed.

-sigh- So for those of you who doesn't know, I'm working at some stupid tacky teenage and children magazine that proclaimed to be, and priced itself to be, an A+ magazine. They pay me quite well, but torment me every here and there with their philistine taste. When I first decided to accept the offer, I thought I could make something there, I mean...it sounded challenging enough, you know, to somehow enlighten and bring the magazine out of the dark. Besides, they seemed willing to pull themselves out of the dark by firing all the boards and the teams that used to make the unjustifiable previous editions of that magazine and making some really brand new creative teams, young people from various background mostly fresh graduates with fresh idealism and all that jazz, with me who happens to be one of them. So I was quite excited at first, you know, knowing that I could freely pour my creativity and all those evil plans in my head to somehow brainwash my readers, those children, to stop imitating Paris Hilton or… well you know what I'm talking about. I spent quite fun actually hunting for the news and report for my articles.

Until I realized, and this was known to me later, rather way too late actually, that they have a very bad and lousy management. I didnt know that the boards and the reporters from the previous editions of the magazine hadnt been discharged entirely. They had excluded the editor in chief of the previous magazine. Which of course was a truly stupid decision, because obviously she was the genesis of the deadly disease. Since she was the editor in chief she was the one who held the final decision and the one who decided what topic should be taken for the magazine. I really dont know whose idiot decided to let her stay and continuously ruin the magazine. And the worse thing about all is that, I dont know how and why, but when me and my team was working to finish the first edition of the newly born magazine, she was too doing exactly the same thing with her team in her office. So at the same time, there were two magazines being made, my version and her version. And you know what, at the end of the term, when I was quite happy that me and my team had finally made it before the deadline, all the articles and design, all of a sudden I came to the office and found a copy of a magazine, with a letter on top of it, saying that I had to translate to English some of the contents there. I was like...what? What contents? Then I looked up the magazine, and yap...you guess right, it was not my version of the magazine, it was hers, and it would be printed officially. Hers, and all her stupid articles, and not mine. I really didnt understand what had happened, why they had taken her articles instead of mine, if they really want to make a new version of the magazine and they had stated that they were quite unsatisfied with the works of the previous team, then why did they take her version instead?

But that's not even the worst part, when I looked the magazine up, I found that... instead of the name of her teams printed in the magazine, it was my team's name printed there. My team, my name, there...in that stupid magazine. As if I was the one who's responsible for the stupid contents of that magazine.
Now thats just so unethical, I didnt contribute anything to that magazine but they put my name there! You know, every single thing I made is my own portfolio, and that magazine, that edition is not my work, and I would never ever let that works become a part of my portfolio! That very stereotyping, cliche, non-creative, tacky, articles printed there. I would never make something like that!

But you know what you know what you know what? that's not even the worst of it, so when I looked up the teenage version of the magazine, this magazine, this so called self proclaiming A+ magazine with such a high price, had Nia Ramadhani and SAMSONS on the cover! What else could be tackier and stupider than that? Only idiots would pay Rp35.000 to read articles about Nia Ramadhani and Samsons while they could get it by only paying Rp.2500 at some cheap local infotainment tabloids. And when I looked at inside of it, yes...exactly...they had put my name there too. As if I agreed with all the contents written there, contributed my minds there, or wrote the articles there.

Pencemaran nama baik sungguh. Now all Jakarta would see that stupid magazines and they would also see my name in it, as if I'm the one who was responsible for all the stupidity there.
That's why I think I'm being cursed. The curse of *eeeek* Samsons.
Bleurgh.
Outta there really soon. Don't want any more pencemaran nama baik.

-sie-

Fucking Philistines!

i fucking hate my job. damn philistines who raped my name and use it anyway they want. they didnt wanna take my articles and still insisted in using their god damn philistine-worthless-cheesy-tacky-cheap topics. YET THEY PUT MY NAME ON IT as in i'm the one who wrote those WORTH-FUCKING-LESS articles.
gw marah sekali sampe ga bisa ngomong apa2. mana majalahnya udah naik cetak.
ntar gw ceritain dengan lebih lengkap deh... skrg gw lg di kantor sialan ini soalnya.
out of here pretty soon, though. they dont deserve me. i'm way too smart for them.

-sie-

THAT kind of man?

So the philosophy test I took, though it's rather pseudo-accurate... like Ferdi's remark... shows that I'm that Existensialist?
Hm. I didnt know i'm into Sartre that much. I mean... come on... the sexist who made Beauvoir appeared no more than his protegee for the rest of her life while secretely took Beauvoir's works as the source of his inspiration? Well... though of course I have to admit that his works, marked as one of the greatest works of modern philosophy...
But... you know...
The self-centered, smart-ass, arogant, think-he-knows-everything Sartre...I didnt know that it's that KIND of man that i find myself drawn into...
umm...well...
nevermind...

-jadedlittlesisie-

The philosophy I follow?

You scored as Existentialism. Your life is guided by the concept of Existentialism: You choose the meaning and purpose of your life. "Man is condemned to be free; because once thrown into the world, he is responsible for everything he does." "It is up to you to give [life] a meaning." --Jean-Paul Sartre More info at Arocoun's Wikipedia User Page... Existentialism 95% Kantianism 75% Utilitarianism 70% Strong Egoism 70% Hedonism 65% Justice (Fairness) 35% Nihilism 20% Divine Command 0% Apathy 0% What philosophy do you follow? (v1.03) created with QuizFarm.com

confused

now that i think of it. the fact that i'm still confused, even know. show how actively and healthily my brain works. well. maybe not healthily.
but isn't health is one of the world greatest issues, baby?

-sie-

bitchbitchbitchtheresonanceofthweordbitch

He called me bitch and then threw himself at the fire. I didn't like the antagonist part of the play but I knew that they are needed in every story. It's just that I was not used to play the role, so maybe I played it badly, not well enough to make a good criticism out of it. Perhaps thats why I didnt even like acting out, I preferred all those backstage fuss. You know, inventing plot, choosing costumes, decorating stages and all that jazz.

Bitch.
Hey, did you know that the word had gone ameliorated since the postmodern era came?

-sie-

pausing off

The dimming shades of light, right in the corner of the stage, our heroine sank down while absorbing the feeling of coldness spreading around in her chest. She's contemplating, concentrating to the sense of the flow of coldness slithering and creeping to every single vein in her body, and when the feeling of coldness reached her neck, creating a lonelier feeling even more than ever, she lifted up her right hand and placed it on her forehead, trying to seek any kind of warmness that she might still be able to sense. In a low muttering voice, she sighed "oh… the drama of my life, the pain, the agony…."
(Insert a scratching slap-in-the-head sound here…)

Alright, me had had my slap in the head, the drama queen had slapped back to the reality. Through with the drama queen phase, here goes my favorite phase, the bitter bitch; a time to chuckle a bit upon yourself while sharpening your machete. So this is where I am now, my bitter bitch phase. After spending four years an a half with a control-freak possessive psychotic, who had always managed to creep behind my back and had pledged to stab any kind of guy who’d dare tried to get near me, my next date was a blithely debonair Byronic villain who turned out to be an anti-establishment commitment phobic, whom, after our one year and a half relationship been going on quite steadily, got really freaked out and discarded me by saying "honey, I know that I’m so in love with you because it always feels like home every time I hug you, but sometimes I just don’t want to be home…" I seriously feel like a main character of a sappy chicklit now, and the worst part of it is that hell… I don’t even like chicklit. Ain’t just life a drama?
And here I am now, looking back all the paths of life I had been hopping all along, while bitterly laughing at myself. It's funny to realize that the habit of pausing off while we’re reading a book is always done in between the finished chapter, before we're starting to read on into the next chapter of the book. Ever wondered why, though? Why can't we just take a pause off in the middle of the chapter? Analyzing what had been read all along, taking little notes here and there, while thinking, guessing and predicting, based on notes and analyses we had made, of how the chapter that we’d been reading on would be in the end of the chapter. I guess it's because some of us, don't really like some spoiler of thoughts ruin the thrilling sensation of curiosity we feel while enjoying the reading. So the choose is might as well find the closure and make the more complete analysis about it afterward.
Well, the thing is, in reading books and stuff like that, you don't have to do the 'pausing off' part in a bitter bitch mood, while in the real life, it's sort of does, at least for me. Why? Because it sorts of affect my real feeling… duh… the feeling of coldness spread in the chest is not felt by the heroine in the book, it's my own coldness, my own fear, my sorrow and sadness.
But like chapters in book, the more chapters we read, the more knowledge we’d gather in understanding the story. About its main character and her role in the whole story, about her point of views, about the choices she had made, about other characters in the story and their relation and role to her, and finally about the flow of the story that leads to the climax.
So although most of the time done in my bitter bitch mood, my 'pausing off' part always at the very least give me more knowledge about me, myself, this little girl who sometimes can get so clueless in running her life. It always brings me new lessons, new understanding, new perspective in seeing my self and my life.

-sie-

sucked

i am elated in something that would definitely kill me. but who gives a fuck. people will eventually die anyway.

-sie-

the bubbles i choke

i think tomorrow, or pretty soon,
somebody's going to come and chop my head off.
i should stop choking so many bubbles.

-sie

So the cheesy title said

So the cheesy title said that you hold that shine on your braces

Trinket little bucket
Hopping around madly like zesty little pneuma
I must say I am amazed *insert smile here*
What? You don’t know pneuma?
But you learn philosophy dear baby dear
It is not love
But it is light enough to glow my gloom cookie

-sie-


So the cheesy title said that you hold that shine on your braces

Trinket little bucket
I must say that everyone is
Responsible for their own state of happiness
So do I doop doop doobie woop
So do I
Say, how about if I say that for now
I take you like a soft ray of sunshine in the morning
Or a warm feeling of a cup of coffee
Or a beautiful reddish dragonfly suddenly crossing before me
When I hold my gloom cookie

-sie-


So the cheesy title said that you hold that shine on your braces

Trinket little bucket
As cheesy as it may sound
I think you’re so snug
It’s like I want to draw a thousand of grinning smileys
Whenever the thought of you cross my mind
Woop hoop hoop hoop
Silly silly silly me

-sie-


Trinket little bucket

Trinket little bucket,
Can I quietly keep you in my pocket?
A busy little packet
Making my heart melt
Chocolate ice cream
Raspberry sugar cream
A never ending mellow stream

-sie-

hi... I'M BACK..
after a rather long yet hollow pre and post new year break.. i'm here again..
this site is still under construction, i'm currently working on it. i took the skin from blogskins.com, it's a pretty cool site, actually.
anyway... thoughts were helplessly bursting and erupting out of my head since quite sometimes... kinda miss the old melodramatic rants used to be poured down here.. but before that i have to work on with the lay out first.. so.. well..

see ya soon.
-sie-

and i am here

alright so i'm here again dear baby dear, it's like you know that i wont go for long. my entries these days, dear baby dear, are so boring with sentimental shites, it's like fully loaded with a total nothingness of my overflowing melodramatic emotion. how can i help it dear baby dear, i'm lost, and i've cursed myself for that.
look, maybe i should've talked about something else, the sky, the moon, the wrecked wrecked souls, the hatred that people declared everywhere around, the confusion, and all that. but look what i'm doing here dear baby dear, i'm standing here alone blabbering myself. even worse, it's myself in such an abstract and absurd sense. o how selfish. absurdity never worked dear baby dear, waiting for people to comprehend your soul. might as well wait forever. you understand forever, dear baby dear?
and i am lost and i am flying and i am winding and i am pretending and i am insencere and i am knowing and i am jaded and i am pretending and i am pretending and i am pretending and i am not knowing and i am insencere and i am black black black black bloody pitch black with no light at all and i am drown and i am sucked and i am lost lost lost.

blablablablablablab
and i am here. blabbering myself.
maybe one day i'll leave but i dont even know for how long then.

-sie

walkwalkwalkwalkandwalk

i'm leaving.

-sie

*image was taken from http://www.painetworks.com

floating

hidup itu, adalah kutub-kutub titik ekstrim yang mengerikan. you, my dear, and me too... are walking in the long bold line made by thousands and thousands dots of freaky and unpredictable fringe of emotion. haunting. enchanting. overwhelming. destroying.
the journey, my dear, is really never that secure, although most of us do feel that it is. covered and tangled in those overwhelming joy we feel when we coincidentally and unintentionally step on the dots of elated emotion. happiness. bliss. elation.
when we step on happiness we forget that somewhere there, are dots that waiting for us to step on them. the dots of sadness, despair, devastation, hurt, broken, damaged. they are there and waiting for us, for they too are the parts of the dots that composed the bold lines.
when i make you happy, the journey would bring you the time when i would make you sad.
when you feel blissful, you shall wait until the journey bring you despair, and devastation and dreary...

if only i could float, walking along in the air, completing my journey, without the tip of my toes touching all the dots.
but then again, could it make me feel you?

-sie-

fractured

the thing is... dear baby dear... i know that i am fractured.
and i am wounded.
and i am hurt.
but i feel too stupid
to cry.

in your shoulder, especially.

cry.
cry.
cry.
cry.
cry.

there you go, baby.
i'm done with my cry
now i could go back to see you
and smile.

-sie-

image was taken from http://fabi.blogs.sapo.pt/

the sugar-sweet bitch

because people always thought of me as 'sugar-sweet', they thought that i could tolerate everything. the thing is, of course i cant. i could be upset too. and when i am, i could be such a depressive bitch.
i havent talked to my bestfriend for almost five days now. i kinda miss her. but she's the one who started it. call me oversensitive, call me childish, but i'm just being the 'could-not-be-that-tolerant-about-every-single-fucking-thing-thrown-at-my-face' me.

-sie-

*image was taken from www.istockphoto.com

Girl Talk

“This mattress is getting harder and harder than ever, don’t you think?”
She nodded her head, stretched and yawned. “I’m tired.” She said. “I think we should get a new mattress.”
“That would cost a bit.”
“You’re right.” Then she dragged her book from the side of the mattress and started reading.
“I thought the exam week had over.”
“Me too, that’s why I really wish I could burn the campus, or at least chop my lecture’s head.”
She said that in a flat, monotonous tone. I laughed.
“How’s that guy? Did he call you?”
“Nope. I didn’t expect him to call me anyway.”
“Not at all?”
“Well… once, the next day after we did it. He called me to say he’s sorry.”
“Sorry? For what?”
“He thought I was having a problem that bothers my mind. He didn’t want me to think that he’s well… sort of using the chance.” She sneered, in a rather absurd solemn sneer.
“Was that the case?”
“Well it’s true that I was a bit upset that day… but…”
“But I’m sure that it was you…”
I looked at her eyes, she looked at me back.
“Yes… it was me who’s using him.”
We giggled, just like teenage girls who giggle in their private pajamas party, only it was in a slightly different case. She threw a cryptic smile then took a cigarette from her ciggie box and lit it.
“I was the one who seduced him, you know?”
“Oh I can tell.”
“Yes. And look how he felt guilty about it. He didn’t even know that I was the one who’s using him.”
“Is it working?”
“What?”
“I mean… you used him for some purposes, didn’t you?”
“Yes… I wanted to forget my problem a bit with that as**ole bastard.”
“Is it working? Did it make you forget your problem with that other guy?”
“No. But I felt a bit happier.”
“Happier compared to before you did it?”
“Sort of.”
“Oh alright ... as long as you’re happy.”
Then the cryptic smile was put upon her eyes once more. I looked at her and tried to throw some of my stupid jokes. She puffed her cigarette and begun to read her book again.

-sie-

Ding-Dong!

I gain weight
My cheeks are chubbier and my bum’s getting bigger
And bigger and bigger than ever
I think my eyes are bigger too
They are free and they see whatever they want to see
And since they can see whatever they want to see,
I can feel they are widening and widening more than ever
So they can capture everything by a single glance
I do think that they enjoy themselves too
These feet and these hands
They are merrier than ever
Feet are free running like crazy
And hands claps themselves every occasionally
No strain and no chain
Wherever they want to go
They know that they can
The teeth and the tongue, and the lips too
Crooning and chanting, prattling and laughing
And oh one more thing
The heart is growing too
It grows bigger and bigger
Warmer and warmer
Ding-dong!
Happy birthday to you,
I hope yours are growing too

-sie-

umm... the 22nd November guy, this is an early birthday poem for you...

Azura

Azura, beautiful blue sky
Cloudless and bright
Beaming and might
Upon a meadow covered by poppies
I lied flat on its lime green grass
Drawing a picture
With my crayons
Puffy and curvy
Of a thick big black
Really black cloud
And thousands and thousands black bold lines
Really bold lines below the cloud that I drew
They were supposed to be a drawing of raindrops
Of a heavy rain
A very very heavy rain
A very very heavy one

-sie-
For sitting on my brain twenty four seven really you should blame yourself

Orange, orange pond...

So the pond is orange
Suspiciously bright orange
There are also some strange dark blue waterlilies
Lying flat on its orangish water surface
You will never ever let yourself spread a red-plaided tablecloth
Upon its bizarrely pale lemony grass
Déjeuner sur l'herbe
Having a picnic lunch under the sun
Never while everything is too suspicious
Wrong and dubious
But the pond was always orange
The waterlilies were always dark blue
The grass was always pale lemony
They were happy that way
Maybe it was not meant
For your delusory
Red-plaided tablecloth

-sie-

Small Clover

Beautifully overshadowed
Under a big big oak tree
Where the gentle of breeze blows so mildly
Through its rich leaves
Beautifully overshadowed
Comfortable and serene
But sometimes it’s just too dark

-sie-