i read somewhere
if you were kind, did a good thing to a person
she or he might not repay the same kindness
however life will surely treat you better.
don’t ask me why there are some persons won’t appreciate your kindness
but i think it is simply just a matter of a perspective,
you think you have helped them, sacrificed
but they just do not really need it, never took it seriously.
they said if you helped people,
must not even think about how they should repay you someday.
it is okay to feel not well fitted into the society
but you must never stop learning about patient, compassion
right or wrong, all is a process
whatever path you lead,
from the beginning to the ending,
hatred is the only path to avoid,
the rests are pretty safe as long as you hold compassion dearly.
can you hear it ?
the voice of singing ghosts breaks this silence
it used to be humble and peaceful
but now filled with filthy nonsenses.
feels like yesterdays, those longest years were carried on my back
in a blink of an eye, future seems haunting beyond my very eyes
the ghosts burn themselves over and over
i breathe the fear, inhale those insecurity over faked strength
human beings are destined to be happy with their closed eyes to reality
they are designed to create imaginations craved with faith but lack of humanity
our different paths were addressed as mislead journey
no matter how far i travel, coming home is always a joy
the home that being so close to those singing ghosts
how they yearn of becoming celestial
however deep under the ground
may i find peace
we promise to serve the justice together
you, a young painter at heart, armored well in battle
i, a restless nature-admirer, choose the path to bring peace over the land
our younger days, under the vast blue sky, ride horses to every corner of the kingdom
we promise to meet again after the battle
you, heavily wounded, sent back to the capital
i, took arrows piercing the heart, with a single glance to the sky
therefore, come back as a crane, to tell you who i am now.
as the bell rings, trumpets of glory calling all heroes,
drops of tears are taken away by the wind, buried in the sand
remember our days, forgetting the past, these years walking thru this journey of life
just like your paintings, where your heart dwells peacefully inside.
as we grow older, we are able to accept more unwanted results from the well-planned actions and strategies.
there are actually lot of things would not turn out as expected, no matter how hard you try, how smart you play, and how siincere you pray.
now to think about it, as a human being, I can only control my efforts, mind, and heart. whatever will be happen, those are beyond my reach.
as the lifespan of mine shortened day by day, there are lots of things to let go, day by day.
a place to hide…
not for myself from the outside world
but to put all my sorrows in a place
therefore i come back stronger
fingers, pointing at one place
inside a heart, bury deep all along
take care, well done til the end of the road
fearless thought, even no grip to hold on
like a feather, floating smoothly in the air
without direction, following the wind blows
my thoughts, wandering aimlessly
without solid evidence, trusting intuition merely
memories like a short-movie
filmed in rushed and no script dialogues
to hate, to love, to let go
and leave it just it is.
apa yang kamu pikirkan akhir-akhir ini ?
aku melihat tanah lapang ini, telah berulang kali rumput dan semak belukar tumbuh dan layu.
ketika berbaring dalam kesunyian, aku membayangkan sebuah ruangan dengan sebuah keranda di tengahnya,
di dalamnya berbaring seseorang yang pernah hidup.
dia, yang juga ditinggalkan satu persatu orang yang pernah dikenalnya,
dia, yang tidak lagi dapat menyaksikan tanah lapang ini.
dia, yang berbaring di dalam keranda, yang pernah memikirkan kilas balik yang dilaluinya selama hidup, segala penyesalan dan segala syukur,
hidup ini mungkin memang sangat mirip seperti mimpi, buruk atau indah, terlalu banyak yang memilih ingin tetap tinggal di dalamnya, atau memilih memimpikan mimpi lainnya.
aku, mungkin bermimpi ingin menjadi seperti angin, yang berhembus ke dalam ruangan sunyi itu, menjadi saksi dari seseorang dalam keranda itu, bahwa ia pernah hidup dalam kehidupan yang seperti mimpi ini.
the cheapest coffin
it is only a coffin,
the person is dead anyway.
when this person was alive,
treated the children with the best this person can afford
when this person dies,
they treated this person with the cheapest things,
they can afford more but choose the cheapest
so it seems normal to buy the cheapest coffin.
i think i understand now
this person has used to be treated in such way,
live in that way
bitter sweet feels bitter, but denied it and said it tasted plain-sweet
so it is said,
parents love to the children is boundless
and only when the children become parents, may be they will understand it.
not all wishes granted.
no matter how hard and sincere you work for it.
but isn’t this life is about letting go ?
so i would say to my parents,
thankful for everything
proud of you
if there’s next life, or if we can reverse time,
i would so happy to have you again
and i would surely become a better child