ranting… current…

An infected emotion, bloody red, swollen of rage and mistrust. But then it turns blue, soft squishy and half dead. Our eyes turn to another trying to find glimpses of reality, of which reality was never really there, a blister forms, covering those bacteria demolished cells, with a gelatinous coating, turning solid.

We must admit that we are not perfect, pieces of jigsaw, dismantled in the most abstract ways. As we are obsessed with the things far from grasp, we ourselves understand the nano-scaled possibilities of reaching what we aim. Yet we try, a sense of hope we try not to disperse, the false positives we tell ourselves the chances of having. Fairness is an overstatement all have tried to scream, a dead concept having never tasted breath for that matter.

How do we fall into emotionally set traps undigested by logic? The tangible signs pointing to a certain path and preview of things to come. Why do we never listen? Setting sights would have been too late, too complex to reverse this tangled nerves and guts causing a certain nausea. How can a certain emotion affect mind and body without physical cause at all? How does that work?

It’s all life worth living, the semicolon reffering to a new topic, on steps later needed taken. And yes, they will see what they would be missing.

Battle VS. War

This…. is really not the time to rant about love, or better stated as “unusual emotional chaos which has a powerful effect towards the brain resulting in bizarre behavioral patterns turning idiots into imbeciles.”

So, I’ve won, well at least i think I’ve won…

She texted me right?

She was the one looking for me at the first place right?

So… where is she now?

Did she realize?

Yeah of course she did?

So what did i achieve?

Hmmm….. that’s tough…

Hey, why did she become indifferent all of a sudden?

Wait a minute! Hey, I’m the one who’s supposed to act indifferent and cool and what not!!!!!

Well certainly this waiting game will end with some sort of moral definition that i won’t listen to or realize for that matter, so why the heck fluster over it anyway….

OK, so she texted me, should i reply?

And what of the living?

We pour our endless minds to consuming the concepts and philosophies of the old dead and forgotten – not to mention that of those we read are often at times the white male (not to be confused with moby dick). In Indonesia it is accustomed, despite religion, clan, or heritage, that we pay respect to the dead… and in paying respect, I mean remembrance rituals lasting days, weeks, and years (not continuously). Javanese has this ritual of paying grievance at 40 days of death, 100 days, and sometimes even 1000 days.

Being this selfish ignorant asshole that i am, i ask why? Yes, we should remember them, and yes, their philosophical point of views were interesting and ingenius. But must we cage our own thoughts and be dumbfounded by theories and phenomenons based on what happened, old and rusted unable to find its place in this modern plane? or pay tribute to those we love and left us with all these materialistic images of glamor and awe drawing proportions? Both of these questions may be answered with a yes… culture in its finest form, from the generations of kings to poppers, the never ending battle of acceptance. Even for the dead. As those history books confirm, that those in scripture, whose name marches forth through time. The prophets of their time.

And what of the living? The purpose of those living are to be buried in scripture, remembered for aeons of time, a hope that their names would not be forgotten so soon. Ask anyone, how do they picture life after death? or what their funeral would look like? Marx may have died alone but many still say his name, in dreams and nightmares (deadliner, with a paper due an hour).

A life worth living is a life remembered after death. But really, who really wants to die?