Thoughts of two brilliant people.

Spiraling in a circle of madness. Enraptured by the nightmares that plague my dreams. From which reality is true? The one where corrupted systems pollute the minds of billions, or the one where billions pollute the minds of each other? Time stands still only to move faster than can be measured. Traversing a dimension that has no flaws. Where only imagination can make a difference. Where sickened minds bleed diseased filth into the hearts of the masses. 

Spiraling in a circle of madness. Madness of us. When the light went off and all the senses went on. When the mind went wider and the view went smaller. One might could not do much and too little to be seen. One might could not do little and too big to be held. And the situation are going crazy while there's no such chances and changes. Crazy to feel and to touch of things which are not there for sight but for feel. The chaos of the unseen and untouchable things deep in thought - dream.

To which world do you belong? The world of right or that of wrong? A world where people judge or a world where they hold onto their grudge? A knife cuts across the skin, fresh blood has been spilt. once it heals Damaged scar reveals the ancient sin, proof of her guilt. Time does not allow her to repent the broken vow. Cast away. There to stay. Forbidden. Forsaken. Her only pleasure turned to pain.

When you only can fly and not walk, when you only can whisper but not talk and being understood by all the breeze and the sense even by the twinkle of your eyes when you smile. What would be less than that, even when you could not find the ...sight of the right and wrong, the judge and the defender? And knifes are wordless for skin and blood. Chains are unchained, walls are barrier-less, and sky's unlimited. This is the world that belong in me, to me. The world that in me. The world that time and limitation are hide and have vacation.

Chained and bound unto a wall. My body is scarred my thoughts are full of unrest. No matter my struggle the pain i must endure. For freedom means nothing to a body that is damaged bruised and broken. Yearning to break free of this prison. My mind is consumed in darkness. Cursed. The price of my freedom be death.

Death, you are not welcoming. Even you, promise me freedom. Even you, promise me wings from all this darkness around me, this pain around me, this bruised and damages. Death, you wait on that corner with smile, wait for my surrender time of... flying, ignore your presence and your claws that in trying to come in my skin in damn sure and slowly ways. No freedom and wings that you can give to me, NO. I won't be tricked. All the pain, bruised, damages and the darkness are yours. Count me out from your dead list. Anyway, my wings already fly and free me, be really die Death. No cry for you.

To die and truly find peace. Away from life's bitterness. I find warmth in Death's embrace. For my worries struggles and strife amount to nothing in the eyes of the divine. Fear not for i stay in vain. Fruitless are my efforts. results remain the same. Success or failure. Where is the fun? Win or lose. What does it matter? Life is nothing more than a game. The rules change everyday. May lady luck make me lucky today or i will be damned. Eternally against this fiery wall. Everlasting torment is my prize. Though i would gladly exchange it for just one more chance at the dice roll. All these thoughts circling my mind. Like pieces of a puzzle. This game isn't over yet. Now to find the missing piece that has it all make sense.

Missing piece always is there. The joy of the look would find it. And the handy hand would grab it. The fruitless are only imagination. Imagination of the unspeakable touch. Struggling we are, here and now. When all our pain are dancing, the cure are working and healing. Struggling we are, here and now. Without blood could cry out but smile. Luck won't need time to appear just need a little look. Here, we are to be the survivor, of all age of all time. So, having peace in death would be too simple to embrace. While one dot could end all the sudden, some comas would be nice to do. Like making some little steps on some little rocks on a beautiful river. A little hop on a little rock. With a picture of you in every hop on the water river above. All are not make sense, all are there.

Dancing, what is that? For I have danced before. My partner tripped and fell to her untimely end. Here I still stand, dancing by myself. In sorrow and guilt. For she will never dance again. Death took hold as my new partner. Leading me astray. Into the darkness. It felt good to have another lead this dance. For my worries and fears melted away into the night. Allowing another to capture my desire. Little did I know, the more we danced. The deeper Death dug his claws into my spine. Wrapping his cold numb claws around my heart. I felt them, I did. Piercing my soul. Promising my one true wish. To be with her again. He would have had another victim, had it been to late. Breathless, struggling, anxious, my mind emblazoned with a new passion. To fight. To live. For my own survival, and the hell with everyone else. Though that was not enough to break free from Death's clutches. This fight was not just my own, but that of everyone I knew. They held their arms out to me. Aiding me along my journey. Finally free. I dance again. Full of spirit, full of joy. Though my dance with Death was anything but. I did enjoy myself. That I cannot deny. I will not deny. For he will trick me again with that fateful question: Didn't we have fun? As true as those words struck me. I will admit. That a small part of me belongs to Death. Though only a small part, I will not give up the rest of my entity. For I am myself again.

https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9nYiUA8e1Aj3O_w6CR1zX6nGCiyTyEiLmbqmVY_MLIBGnpxKVnT8SuLSQAMhnwZLkT9LXnwhC8HQPDKwaQw8vDwzUo2v2QNaPso9K64KJh5vGMCwy_A276i9QRB6Rfl6kg9r4HIfsOwY/s1600/Thoughts+without+dreams_a+drawing_detail.jpg

First collaboration with Jordan Colby - In Bold Writing
 

*My spin dancing for the chance.
Friday, October 28, 2011 at 7:49am Jordan Colby saved this on his facebook.




   

Marbles

Once upon the time, when time was sleep, there’s a man  who had a little boy inside in his, climbing the wall of time, drove his faithful car to reach one place where there’re more noises than just a breeze and water whisper. 

He broughts some beans, coins and dew in his backpack. He dropped all that things inside his bagpack put them among his bagpack’s permanent residences, such as seeds, flowers, leaves and some dark soil.

He wore his best coat, red transparant wavy one...with green head and purple word “Universe” on his left up arm, and shoes which had similar color with his pants, dark chocolate.

It was in the mid day, after the breeze exhaled for  the second time, he had his escaping jump.

Along the way of driving, he kept his mouth shut and praying that nothing could hear his dissapearing. Even he sometimes holded his breath or exhaled in really quiet way.

His faithful car run without track, so faithfully, trying to bring his master to find the more noises place that his master dreamed off.

In another place, where the noises’re too much, lived one friend of that man who had a  little boy inside his. She played marbles with him most of the time, for their colors and shape and their way of run and walk...which surely rolling and rolling. He and she’re new friend with their same believe that speed always be the important thing to have a good rolling of their marbles.

One time in between of that driving away time, there’s cloud and wavy wind. And the marbles’re abandoned. Rolling a little to the left side and to the right side. Among so much noises and the rolling marbles, she who’s  a friend of him who had a little boy inside his, wondered about his road and if he could find the more noise place that he longed for.

Than one picture came, a city train picture, with the train shape became the center of the picture, came to a friend of him who had a little boy inside his, she. With the line above it “Ini kereta jalan di kota yg tinggal saya :) ”.

Since that time, she who’s  a friend of him who had a little boy inside his, always tried to find him, he who had a little boy inside his, inside of the train picture everytime she who’s  a friend of him who had a little boy inside his, wondered of the road he who had a little boy inside his, had.

Story by Meitha Soekotjo, 16:04, 12/12/2011.

Picture by Caman Calmato Blue.