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Tuesday, 8 July 2008

R. I. P. (may they rest in peace!)

It’s the second time. Hell! And this time is not my fault...but yeah, I’m loosing it all again. ‘Damn,’ I said. Yeah, I must admit, the first time it happened, a couple years ago, I don’t remember exactly when, it all happened because of my fault. My friend gotta take the flash stick that I’ve been borrowed for several days.

I really remember how it looks like. I just get up from a bed, the weather was too strong in that morning, the computer’s still cold cus I just turned it on, and the blue flash stick’s still plugged in the hard drive. Suddenly, he just came without telling me in the first time, and he came with a big rush in his head! Yeah, I can’t blame him, cus I had to bring it back to him a day before that day, but I already had an appointment, so I just said, “Tomorrow, bro!”.

And then, with a morning rush and a disturbing horn from his ride, I speeded up my move. Click here, click there, copy here, paste there, enter here, enter there, and then, just hold to wait the loading. The load was finished, I unplugged the stick, and then, I gave it to him. After he’s gone, I went back to my computer, cus I want to continue wrote one of my stories. But, alas, when I was searching my writing folders, it’s not there.

I paused my self from every move, cus I needed to think all clear, so I would knew what’s my next move. It’s always been my kind of way to keep away my self from panicking, and it always worked for me. Then, there’s a slash with a vague in my memory. It tells me, that when I was in the fast move of deleting data for my friend’s flash stick, I had a wrong folder to delete. I just delete all my stories that I’d been worked for a years!

‘Oh, Hell,’ I said.

I‘ve been grieved for a months, almost a year, exactly, then I tried to write another new story again. In the couple times I’d tried, it didn’t work well. The trauma still there, haunted me. It’s like the inspirations from all influences, steaming from my head, blowing with the wind in the air above my head, vanish from my mind, and disappear like a ghost, ‘puff’. It’s dark to see, my head, it’s blank. Really! Nothing’s there.

But with the time goes, after years I’ve tried, finally I can wrote one successfully. It’s a short story. See? It darn, huh? For a years tried, I just can find my self in one short story. But, Alhamdulillah, I’d said. And then, it came like water flowing from the mountain through to the river. It flows all along in my head. After that, I would say, many stories I’ve wrote so well. Not just stories, exactly, some of them are article. It’s like everything I’ve seen, I’ve heard, I’ve felt, even everything that I’ve thought, right or wrong, questions or arguments, I could wrote it down and turn it to another good stories or articles. But the stories I’ve wrote is focused to be the short one, not a novel. In this time, I saved my stories’ document in three different things. My hard drive, my flash stick, an in my discs.

And then, there comes the day. The doomsday. Second doomsday, I’d said. There’re damned viruses came through my PC, blocking all the data to be opened. At first I took it calmly, cus I thought about my other media. My Mom’s and my sister’s data was loss and couldn’t be opened. I just smiled to them. Yeah! Don’t have to tell me, it’s KARMA, cus I really knew what it is. So when I wanna open my stories from my ‘other’ medias, I suddenly shocked. My data in flash stick and the discs couldn’t be opened. The viruses from the PC are visiting them and block all of my data!

‘Again and again, Lord!’ I said.

Well, even it’s not like the first one, cus I still have 2 stories left in my email—some of my friend wanna see those, so I e-mailed them—, but it just makes my soul floating. At first I thought the Lord has decided that writing isn’t exactly my way, so He just took it away from me. I was down with those thoughts. But, one day, there’s an old thought came back to me. It’s the original reason why I would start to do what I love to do, such as writing, creating, singing my own song, making, etc. It’s all because I want to transfer my knowledge to another people and in the same time I want to remind my self, so I could be a better person. So how come the Lord, the Lovely One, the Greatest One doesn’t want me to get better? To make everyone better? Maybe it’s just one of His puzzle, one of His exam to me, so I can be a better one, a stronger one with getting trough it.

As that thoughts coming through my head, my spirit’s recovering. But, an optimism isn’t a key to get an inspiration as well, cus until now, I can’t make a single story. But I’m still trying and trying. Cus I just felt there’s my life in those words of sentences. I want to find it again. But, can I? I really hope so. Cus I just aware that at first time it happened I was careless, but I don’t wanna be the second one makes me hopeless.

So, Lord. I knew it. And I knew it so well. That every little thing’s came from You. It’s all Yours. And it, obviously, will be back to You as well. And You’re the Mastermind for every single action. You’re the One that knew secrecy of all propose. And I’m just one of vary many kinds of human being that you’ve created. And I’m not a saint. I’m so sorry for everything I’ve done that makes You mad, that disappointed You.

But I’m all Yours too, Lord. So please, dear Almighty One, please give me some strength to get trough it. Let my spirit burning again. Give me knowledge to know what’s wrong and to know what happen under the skin. Give me, please, the inspiration from You. Give me something to keep my self on the line. And, please keep my faith in You, keep my Love in You, purely…not any other else, just You. Just You. Just let me do everything for You, m’Lord, m’Love!

After all, just let me say, ‘May they rest in peace…’

_not too tough_not so sure_unsaint_but it’s pure_


Monday, 7 July 2008

i still keep sing this song all along

Did ya hear that?? The flow of sounds. Screaming again and again. Even when I didn’t sing. Even when there are nobody singing. Even when the instrument goes off. Even when we’re sleeping. It keeps flowing in the air. Even..yeah, even when I really don’t wanna hear it, it comes again and again. Stroking the sentences that I wrote, destroying all the walls that I build, disturbing silence that I made, and the worst part is keeping my self in the corner of the edge.

It’s not a love, they said. The sound of love is warmer than this. If it’s love, it will destruct inside when the hurt comes. It’s not a hate it self, cus the sound comes without distortion in heavy volumes that might get people in trouble. It’s not a joy too. There’s no groove in their beats. And it’s absolutely not a curious. cus even I feel the beat, I really don’t wanna sing it, but it force me sometimes. All I know, it’s just a soft sound. A vague beats that surround the sky, flowing in the air.

This anonymous sound makes my life, but in the same time it ruins my day. Why? I really don’t have the answer. Maybe the words ‘the truth is out there’ not absolutely wrong. But where do I have to start searching? I don’t have a clue. Cus there’s a lot of things out there. Then I remember the old man’s said ‘if you get lost, go back to where it all began, find what’s wrong and get it right, then start again’. So, I try to go back in the beginning, where it all start..and then I remember when it comes first.

It’s all start years ago. Don’t know exactly when, but it came from someone. Yeah, I definitely know who it is. At first I didn’t know how this one could leave those lovely-disturbing sounds in the most silence sky, but then, I just know it because I like this one, but I don’t want to make this one as my own. But, I need to know what kind of sound this one left. So I can live with it. But when I try to find it, the one that has the answer becomes vague and untouchable. The truth and lies becomes blur in these eyes. But again, I remember someone said, ‘if you want to get the truth, just follow the lies’. Then I followed it with all ammunition I’ve had. But then, I hear voices that make me a little bit down. They said there’s something bad in this one. At first I said back to them and my self, how could someone great like this one did so that? But I hear sir Bono’s sing ‘from the brightest star comes the blackest hole’. It makes me aware that everyone has a secret, so we can’t judge a book by its cover, even from the brightest star it self.

But in the end, no matter bad it is, no matter hurt it is, no matter disappointing it is, no matter hard it is, no matter how disturbing it is, the sound’s still keep coming again and again. So what I hafta do? Should I keep to hear it? Even if I don’t have a time for it? Even when I’m tired to hearing it?

So, Lord I know You’re there. I know it’s only You who’s have the answers of all question. Even I don’t know what sound it is, I just choose to sing it all along…for You, ‘till You give me the answer or ‘till You pick me up to coming back home to You. So give me strength to live with it, give me acknowledge to develop my self with it, and give me Your love cus I need it to love You, only You, so there’s nothing to worry, to doubt or to confuse again.

Let me sing it for You, Lord, all along, all alone.

Jakarta, early Jules 2k8

_never been tough_never been sure_more evil than a saint_but always trying to be pure_