come at me, bro!

most people hate my guts at the arena. checked.

pricks like a thorn #3

he told her that he does not want to serve in afghanistan. but, the economy was that bad that choosing college over the deployment would probably burdened his parents more. besides, his two or four other friends went too. he was only either eight or nineteen when he enrolled. he thought it would probably be cool, with the guns and high utility vehicles he had only seen on playstation. he did not really think about stress. or mental breakdown. he had never been in touch with weeds before. the deployment had made him 420 friendly, whenever he went home for holiday. or when he was there. he could not explain it to her what or how depressing being there was. there were hardly any women who would come near them. at least not emotionally. either they were scarred of them being a soldier that could die anytime. or those women were afraid that they would carry incurable monsters home. both are the things even he could not dare to swear upon his mother's life that he wouldn't do. he thought he is still the same guy who loves rock and hardcore music. he still longed to ride his skateboard to vent. but, who could guarantee that he will not flip someday when hearing a gun-shot like sound? or if he would have nightmares about a raid by the talebans even if until now he never had to face things as such. and he saw many of his friends were divorced while they were there. some have small children when it happened. getting drunk was maybe the safest option to get through all the pain, although not really the smartest. being high is never the best way to win one's heart, moreover after being away for a long period of time. he knew that. yet, it does not stop him from smoking pot.

he paused and felt discomfort when she told him about the rampage shooting by an american soldier towards civillians she read on the news. he did not really want to defend that guy for what he did is wrong. still, he fully understood the kind of stress that man may have undergone. all he could say to her was; he hoped god protect him all the way.

he wished his bluntness do not scare her. but it has been a week since the last time she contacted him.

by the way's (12)

a colleague at work showed me an animation video on youtube. it's called alma. didn't really know from which production house, or which country. the story was very similar to a manga i read long time ago. it was about a kid who is curious about a doll in a toy store because it looks very much like him. little did he know that he would regret his 'luck' when he finally managed to break into the store. short story shorter, he was trapped in the store, as a doll.

sounds like hitchcock or poe? i frankly don't know which one is the original idea. if i'm not mistaken, the manga i read was either the tales from the darkside series or the serial misteri from elexmedia komputindo.

do tell, if you recognize the story.

playing socrates

mengapa masih perlu resah, jika semua bisa di-google?

muak

entah kenapa, seiring dengan terlalu lamanya berada di pekerjaan ini, cerita-cerita heroik dari ekspatriat sudah tidak terdengar menakjubkan lagi. terjebak di lumpur setinggi jendela mobil bergardan ganda, beradu pendapat dengan tentara, diculik pemberontak, digeledah polisi atau menyaksikan pengeboman hanya terdengar seperti sebuah bahan untuk menulis gerutu di blog.

 

sudah tidak cinta lagi, atau sudah putus asa, entah lah.

lunatic from the gracious days

my bestfriend showed me a link on youtube of kings of convenience singing waiting in vain. and i went to sleep reciting annie lennox's eurythmic voice in my head chanting 'from the very first time i lay my eyes on you, boy.. tears in my eyes burn.. tears in my eyes burn.. while i'm waiting.. while i'm waiting..'

maybe my subconscious will always be lost in the 90's. if i were to go senile, i would want my memory to stuck in the 90's. when music peaks at its best. where wit came in too great lyrical phrases. desire. despair. desire. so. many monsters.

cliché but very much true

if you lose your purpose.. it's like you're broken..

 

hugo cabret to isabelle – scorsese's hugo

drunk

a bag of cheezels and a strawberry flavored soy milk. no, it was not an attempt of deconstructing a healthy diet. or a form of protest upon some repressed emotions. it was just a break from unsought opposed ambitions. because she was never hip or trendy enough to ever like zooey deschanel. nor is she talented enough or having anything to say outloud like the folks at tedtalks. she has always been and will always be a person difficult to get with multiple issues anatomically, socially, psychologically and everything-ally. yes. she is as confusing and unpredicted as a bag of cheezels and a strawberry flavored soy milk. she hates, well, used to hate, soy milk, maybe as much as friends with benefits. but she still roots for aaron and riley. they should be the lead casts instead of ben and sara. either way the series sucked. even mardi gras looked boring with them in it.

 

anyway..

blackeyed

tuhan, seringkali aku setegar karang. tapi kadang, aku serapuh papan dari serbuk kayu. dan mungkin hari ini bukan saatku menjadi sebongkah karang. why does it not kill me, when it obviously does not make me stronger?

dead end

between jobs, family, love, friends and health, not neccessarily in that order, i see none of which where it is not stuck.

bailing out

when happiness is no longer a goal in life and not being happy does not matter, would living be neccessary?

deep-pressed

is it bipolar too more than often to occassionally feel like there is no reason for living anymore? or is it just a hint of neglected depression?