"Where" - a poem

This is a poem that was made by a fellow writer (who also happens to be the main actor in my play, A Visage of Lies) who goes by the name Cyren (at least, that's what I call him). This poem was written for me, and I liked it so much I asked his permission to post it in my blog (and he gave them). If you know me in person, you'd probably see why I like it. Here it is:

Where

Where do you fly,
when the wind blows strong,
when the rain howls down,
and the nights are long?

Where do you hide,
when the tempest comes swift,
when zephyrus awakens,
and in the sky tears a rift?

Where do you run to,
when the sun scalds the ground,
when the road melts from the heat,
and not a cloud is around?

Where you are now,
I guess I'll never know.
But the question that's killing me is;
Why, oh why, did you go?

But,

Suppose somethings in life,
were never meant to be conveyed,
so I let out a sigh,
and take my first step, away.

There you go. Pretty darn impressive, I'm telling you, especially because it's so true (he understands that aspect of me better than anyone else, methinks). If you want to look at his other works, go here. And with that, I bid you

Good night.

Sleep

Tight.

Yogyakarta

This is the lyrics to a song that I think sums up what Yogyakarta is all about. It's not about the tall buildings (of which Jogja has none, so far as I'm concerned), it's not about the shopping malls (Jogja only has 3 big ones, and they're quite small to begin with), and it's not about the clubs. It's about the soul. Translation is also included, for those who can't speak Indonesian.

Yogyakarta, by Kla Project.

Pulang ke kotamu
Ada setangkup haru dalam rindu
Masih seperti dulu
Tiap sudut menyapaku bersahabat, penuh selaksa makna
Terhanyut aku akan nostalgi
Saat kita sering luangkan waktu
Nikmati bersama
Suasana Jogja

Di persimpangan langkahku terhenti
Ramai kaki lima
Menjajakan sajian khas berselera
Orang duduk bersila
Musisi jalanan mulai beraksi
Seiring laraku kehilanganmu
Merintih sendiri
Ditelan deru kotamu …

Walau kini kau t’lah tiada tak kembali
Namun kotamu hadirkan senyummu abadi
Ijinkanlah aku untuk s’lalu pulang lagi
Bila hati mulai sepi tanpa terobati

And it's roughly translated to:

Going home to your town
I'm caught by the stir of my longing
Still the same as before
Every corner is a friendly greeting
Fully satiated with meaning
Lost in the sensation of nostalgia
Of the moments when we were spending time
And enjoying Jogja's ambiance together

At the crossroad my steps stand still
Bustling portable food stands
Peddling various delectable cuisines
People sit cross-legged
And the street musicians begin to play
In rhythm with my sorrow of losing you
Alone in my moans
Engulfed by your city's roar

Although you're no longer here, and will never come back
But your city provides your eternal smile
Please allow me to always return
If the heart embarks on loneliness without comfort...


You can watch the video here.

And with that, I bid you

Good night

Sleep

Tight.

Halloween

Nope, this is not a short story.

But I may write something for tomorrow though. We'll see how it goes. It's been a while since I last wrote a proper short story (well the last proper one I had to delete, and you all know why). I'm thinking of a ghost story...

But anyways.

Isn't it kind of chilly in here? Hold on, I'll close the window...

That's better.

You know what, actually I don't know what to say here. I'm having some problems (which I think most of you would know, but I would be grateful if you don't discuss it here), and I've been kind of stressed out for the last few weeks.

Been trying to quit smoking too. Ain't THAT something. I figured that if I can't take care of myself, how am I going to take care of others?

(Last remainder: please do not discuss "that" here, guys)

So ok, I haven't really quit. I just went and cut down on the consumption. After the exam is over, I will try my best to really quit. This time I'm dead serious.

Or am I?

It depends on the circumstances, I guess.

So yeah, this is just one of those random rants.

Been a long while since I've done it, right? Yep, too long...

Well, I bid you

Good night.

Sleep tight.

Prelude, 24 - 10 - 2008

I'm going to write a really long short story.

But before I do, and before I post it (in all probability, next month), I want you to do some brain exercise, and ponder upon some facts that I'm going to use in the upcoming short story.

It's about the Devil.

In both Christianity and Islam, the Devil plays a very prominent role in the history of the universe. On example would be Genesis: The Devil was the one who seduced Eve, and in turn, Adam. In Christianity, The Devil was the one who persuaded Judas to betray Jesus.

Ok, so you get my point: The Devil is the ultimate antagonist in a thick novel called "Life".

But now think about this.

If God didn't want The Devil to seduce Adam and Eve, he would have done something about it, right? God is omnipotent, after all. He's Almighty. He could have just smite The Devil and be done with it. But why not?

If God wanted Jesus to become the King of all mankind, not just the King of the Jews (which he ended up becoming one, albeit unofficially), he would have prevented The Devil from seducing Judas (which then lead to the crucifixion). He has the power to do so, no doubt. But why not?

Here's my thought on the matter. The Devil is actually not altogether evil. He was just created to be evil. Think about it. If The Devil is created by God, and he is supposed to be cunning and smart beyond belief, then he must be smart enough to know that God can erase his existence with just "a flick of the finger," so to say. What kind of a creature as smart as him (and he is supposed to be the second most powerful being in the Universe) would go against God's will then, if he knows that the consequences are dire?

Well he's "going against God's will" because he knows that he is allowed to do so. In fact, that's what he is created for. In this sense, The Devil is perhaps a being that loves God more than anyone else; the "unsung hero", if you will.

Now this is what you should ponder about: if The Devil did not exist, what would you think the world will be? Better, or worse? What do you think would happen if The Devil did not seduce Judas? What would happen to Christianity?

Think about it, and tell me.

Good night,

Sleep

Tight.

Interlude, 24 - 10 - 2008

So there you are, some short stories that I posted in between the interludes. Let's look at them one by one.

"Red" is already explained in the warning section. I was mildly displeased by the sexual violence, but I really think it can be worse. Moving on.

"Sestina of a lover" is a sestina. One girl who read it said that it could be better, and I couldn't agree more. I suppose I was not accustomed to a sestina's strict format, and used the wrong words to make one. That particular girl also asked me why my stories are always morbid, and always involve death.

I think I can answer this one. You know a lot of people says that if there is one thing that connects one human being to the next, that thing would be love.

I respectfully disagree. It's not love, but it's death that connects us all. That's the part of my stories that I think most people can relate to (if not the only thing that most people can relate to). So there you go.

And for your information, I am not a psycho-killer.

Moving on.

"Playwrite" is a really fun piece to write. I think it sounds really nice when you read it out loud, because the words somehow rhymes. Somehow. This post has the advantage of being true, in the sense that playwrights have that ability to betray the audience's trust (telling a secret through a story) without no restrictions whatsoever. I really like this one. Moving on.

"The Day The Angels Died" is inspired by Neil Gaiman's "The Day The Saucers Came" (I am eternally indebted to Mr. Gaiman's work). I tried to make it funny, but instead it turned into yet another dark fiction. I think I will get back to this one, make it better. The concept is really funny, I think. Angels are replaced by demons. What are the odds? Moving on.

The untitled post that I removed from this blog is about how writers can get their stories. They're utter non-sense, and I think the message that I was trying to get across is that stories can come from anywhere. You just have to look, or listen, carefully. Moving on.

"The Boy, The Heart, She" is a really weird one. At first it was supposed to be a proper short story, but when I looked through it I thought that using the same word for every section of the story looks really neat. And it does. This is also my most personal post. I think you can relate to this too.

So for those who read my stories, thank you for taking the time. For those who provided input and comments, thank you to you too. We'll see what other crazy shit I can come up with. Until then,

Good night,

Sleep

Tight.

Interlude, 16 - 10 - 2008

I can't believe I wrote that story. Poet, I mean. The latest addition to the Midnight Theater. It's not even a story, it's utter gibberish.

But then again, most of my stories are.

I mean, "a mead; a contract of love, concocted from lavender, roses, mistletoes, and the blood of a crow"?

I'm telling ya, random thoughts.

But to hell with all this. I like it. Maybe that's just because I wrote it. Maybe because I get to tell the truth with lies again. Just like what I did with Visage of Lies.

"While it may not be the most pleasant, or the best story you’ve ever heard in your life, but it has the singular advantage of being absolutely true. There is no lesson to be taken away from it, and there is no heart warming ending to it; but it is a true story, nonetheless."

And that's the God-honest truth. But that's also a lie. Because the story is completely made up. It didn't happen in real life.

But it's the goddamn truth.

Confused yet? I know I am. Ah well.

We'll continue this conversation some other time, shall we?

Until then, Good night.

Sleep

Tight.