a sadist, me?

Someone once called me a sadist. As I tend to "torture" myself, enjoying every bit of it, and suffering at the same time. I will not say that I am not a sadist. Maybe I am. It's just that I don't really intent to torture myself and suffer. Who would do that, anyhow? Anybody wants to feel a bit of happiness, out of ruins, if necessary.

But the world seems to collaborate to make me suffer. I tried to put things behind, go on with my life. The effort was arduous and costed me much; my view toward relationship, my enjoyment to life, my honesty, my innocence, my personality, all were affected. Few years back when I lived in a dreamland, I once "killed" an innocent fish by exposing it to Leonard Cohen songs a whole day. I survived, tired and torn apart, but I survived.
When I thought that I finally made it, came this beautiful piece from the past.

Where is my whip and flog when I really need them....

revelation, again

It is shocking to realize how fact that we "listen" from someone brings unexpected reaction in ourselves. One lives in his/her factual context, yet those facts are ones that he/she "creates and believes". Those facts (that one creates and so believes) are easier to understand, lighter to bear, and much more simpler than "actual facts". Why, because the person, as a sole owner of those facts, has absolute prerogative to smoothen rough edges.

Once someone else, owner of other version of those facts, reveal the facts (that the person believe) to us, thus come the explosion.
An asshole, that is one of the facts.

Revelation from email’s sender

It’s amazing for me to observe how my body and mind reacts from seeing email’s sender.

It might happen in not so distant past to everybody who received “snail mails” in their “antique” mailboxes. By glancing at the envelopes, one could figure out who the senders had been. What might the sender tell in the letter, how it would “change” someone’s life. But then again, how many letters could one possibly have in those old glorious days for old-fashioned letters in a week or a day.

For some college hunks, movie stars, politicians or penpals maybe the number reach hundreds, but how about “not-so-extraordinary individuals like us? Once a day is more than enough. Thus, the reaction is slow. One didn’t have to be “well-trained” in “deciding” what kind of feeling he/she had to express following that glance on the single mail.

Thanks to this WWW era, one ordinary person in very far corner of the world, a city that only is inhabited by 260.000 people, as long as he/she is connected to internet, say Malmo, can have tons of mails in one single day. Most of those are bulk and junks but they are mail, anyhow. (FYI, household in Malmo can restrain unwanted promotional letter by simply put that “ej reklame, tack” on their big heavy apartment doors). It is not so easy in internet era, we can only ban the sender for sending us the letter AFTER we received those %#^%$&!@ junks.

Now, back to the glancing email’s sender business; I just realized that my body and mind reacts differently succeeding a simple glance at email’s sender. Some sender sends little smile on my lips, lights my heart, warms it, some sends thin tissue of tears, loads my heart with worldly burden, darkens it for the whole day. Remember, the reaction and feeling I mentioned are coming coming just out of glancing at SENDER, not from email itself. Some email prove my prior reaction wrong, some even confirm it. Being a coward, sometimes I think of shutting that window to the outside world and free from “unnecessary” weight. But, have I done it, what would happen to innocent emails, desperately needs to be open and read, waiting for answers? Well, it’s not the first time I keep the emails left unanswered. Peace!

earthquake, what next....

You got the reason to call me boastful and arrogant, although i did not mean to appear that way.
Tsunami took hundreds of thousands life away from this beloved land one and a half year ago. Came, then, donation from all corners of the world. Amounting to a record number, a highest donation ever collected for one disaster in history, from non profit organization, from ordinary people, formal world institution, philantrophies, kids and adults, all, you mention it yourself. Our government, slow as nature ask it to be, tried to organize the fund, organize the assistances. Ugly stories entailed; disharmony amongst insitutions on ground zero, embezzlement of funds, credit seeking parties, bla.. bla..
The latest story from beloved Indonesia, earthquake. While most of us expecting the rage from Mount Merapi, earthquake cut corner, took more than six thousand lives of toll. Again, brothers and sisters under God did not wait for long to reach out and reach deep in their pocket for help. Private donors send their help directly, ordinary citizen like me can just send our petty assistance through ATMs. Government is, again, present there, thx Mr Government.
So many things, bad things happen in Indonesia, I still love her.
There are still many things to think about and yet to be done to make things better; no need to feel uneasy over small matters like family affairs. Most of the time moonlight calms me down. Moon? what moon? It doesn't mean anything, so one said.

"Gotheborg" Sunday, 18 June 2006

Overwhelmed, that was the only reaction I got once I saw the "Gotheborg", replica of 18th century Swedish trading ship, on Tanjung PRiok's horizon last Sunday morning.
For some, it gives exposure over what Swedish East Indies Company (SPIC) did few centuries back. For me, it flooded with me memories.
"Gotheborg" took its name from the city of Goteborg/Gothenburg, few hundred miles north of Malmo - city I spent one and a half years, a fine hilly city. It was modern back then in 18th century and when I visited it 4 years ago, I think the situation was not really different from that in 18th century.
Frankly speaking, my heart filled with joy and tears, watching that ship approaching. I couldn't be there, too long, side by side with the ship and her crews. Gotheborg - Gothenburg - Sweden - Malmo - the city, the people, the person.
Got to go back home soon. Otherwise... otherwise.