good friend, death.
3/27/2010 11:48:00 AM
it's death,
the very good friend in the very lonely spaces.
playing you back things you've been trying to keep from your ego;
some giggles you tried so hard in the wrong time,
some stupid jokes you wanted to insult and the sentences you made that suddenly disgusted your own selves,
or some names you've been trying to remember but just come up with words 'that person', their good words, their silly sights, their outrageous moments that forces you to be the part of.
death,
that has been kind enough to remind you how time is so impatient, not likely a good buddy you could get along with in your hard moments to just merely walk under the twilight and being so lovely just by telling you everything's gonna be okay then get so ignorant with you mumbling the old crazy melody of songs which can make you be hated.
but death can't be a good fella for me to share about life.
there have been millions of unanswered questions i've given to my mom, to my teachers, to my friends, to strangers i met on internet, or even to my own self in my contemplations, and in every single time i pronounce the word 'death' we are all being so linked in the chaotic self-defense that i can't even understand why the hell it needs to appear.
am i afraid of the death? are you? are they? are the nuns? is the Pope? was Jesus himself?
would those hypocrite call me an Atheist by worrying my death? or am i, maybe?
i can't say life is a fun thing to do like how those people say, live once, enjoy it like you're going to die.
so what's the point now? i can't live by pretending i am going to die; i won't be able to think just like i do while thinking there's still gonna be tomorrow for me to realize the blue print i've sketched inside my mind.
it's just scary to realize that death got its absolute ticket to win upon those greedy souls who are seeking for things they can't even explain, for one goal: reaching the perfection of life, with the satisfaction as the essence.
but
i imagine things.
i draw my conceptual dreams.
i play with my visions.
so it's a certain that an abstract image of death ever touched my mind with the smell of fear. several times.
thus, i can tell you bravely that
death can't drop me down into depression. well it may , one day, but not this time when
i've been so ignorance to understand how fragile human is.
all i can remember is how destructive our super egos are in creating our own mind set about destiny.
and at this moment,
when i know a family member passed away yesterday, thing that appeared in my mind is still the questions about the details of my death: how i'll die, how many people will be next to me when it happens, how people react to my death, how many people will come to my funeral and cry for losing me, how many people who feel world has lost a good person, or just to wonder what they will talk about me when i will never be able to figure out?
i am naive. but secrets are still secrets, which kill you in curiosity.
and about curiosity, i can tell something.
i'm not close enough with this lovely old man. he's the husband of my grandma's elder sister. we rarely meet. i don't even know his name, his chinese name. i seriously don't know.
but there was a time when i was still high school, my memory showed his face inside my head and i had a hard time to think about something else instead of just seeing his face in my mind for days. i didn't know him well, i met him once or twice a year. and in the next days, my mom told a family member died, a person who's close with him.
and now, he's gone too.
and
i, in the way i can't explain, suddenly have clear memories of his friendly and sincere smiles, loveable words, sweet laughs, how he walked, how he waved his hands', how he enjoyed sitting on his wooden chair, the tones he used while talking. everything.
death can't be a good listener for this dramatic creature who like to pretend.
but death can be a good reminder for this human who isn't capable to learn, to understand, and to appreciate how special every single person this world is.
the very good friend in the very lonely spaces.
playing you back things you've been trying to keep from your ego;
some giggles you tried so hard in the wrong time,
some stupid jokes you wanted to insult and the sentences you made that suddenly disgusted your own selves,
or some names you've been trying to remember but just come up with words 'that person', their good words, their silly sights, their outrageous moments that forces you to be the part of.
death,
that has been kind enough to remind you how time is so impatient, not likely a good buddy you could get along with in your hard moments to just merely walk under the twilight and being so lovely just by telling you everything's gonna be okay then get so ignorant with you mumbling the old crazy melody of songs which can make you be hated.
but death can't be a good fella for me to share about life.
there have been millions of unanswered questions i've given to my mom, to my teachers, to my friends, to strangers i met on internet, or even to my own self in my contemplations, and in every single time i pronounce the word 'death' we are all being so linked in the chaotic self-defense that i can't even understand why the hell it needs to appear.
am i afraid of the death? are you? are they? are the nuns? is the Pope? was Jesus himself?
would those hypocrite call me an Atheist by worrying my death? or am i, maybe?
i can't say life is a fun thing to do like how those people say, live once, enjoy it like you're going to die.
so what's the point now? i can't live by pretending i am going to die; i won't be able to think just like i do while thinking there's still gonna be tomorrow for me to realize the blue print i've sketched inside my mind.
it's just scary to realize that death got its absolute ticket to win upon those greedy souls who are seeking for things they can't even explain, for one goal: reaching the perfection of life, with the satisfaction as the essence.
but
i imagine things.
i draw my conceptual dreams.
i play with my visions.
so it's a certain that an abstract image of death ever touched my mind with the smell of fear. several times.
thus, i can tell you bravely that
death can't drop me down into depression. well it may , one day, but not this time when
i've been so ignorance to understand how fragile human is.
all i can remember is how destructive our super egos are in creating our own mind set about destiny.
and at this moment,
when i know a family member passed away yesterday, thing that appeared in my mind is still the questions about the details of my death: how i'll die, how many people will be next to me when it happens, how people react to my death, how many people will come to my funeral and cry for losing me, how many people who feel world has lost a good person, or just to wonder what they will talk about me when i will never be able to figure out?
i am naive. but secrets are still secrets, which kill you in curiosity.
and about curiosity, i can tell something.
i'm not close enough with this lovely old man. he's the husband of my grandma's elder sister. we rarely meet. i don't even know his name, his chinese name. i seriously don't know.
but there was a time when i was still high school, my memory showed his face inside my head and i had a hard time to think about something else instead of just seeing his face in my mind for days. i didn't know him well, i met him once or twice a year. and in the next days, my mom told a family member died, a person who's close with him.
and now, he's gone too.
and
i, in the way i can't explain, suddenly have clear memories of his friendly and sincere smiles, loveable words, sweet laughs, how he walked, how he waved his hands', how he enjoyed sitting on his wooden chair, the tones he used while talking. everything.
death can't be a good listener for this dramatic creature who like to pretend.
but death can be a good reminder for this human who isn't capable to learn, to understand, and to appreciate how special every single person this world is.
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