Metaphysical Harmony of Nonsense

Someone from Kyoto once asked me, what will I get for my birthday this year? a chance to see into the future? or a reminder of the imperfect past?

Not a single clairvoyants nor oracles can tell me when is my time to hit into the veil. What is beyond the veil if I may ask? And what makes the biological expiration dates became the ultimate deadlines?

Somewhere sometimes, unconsciously conscious. All I can think about is the future failure, performing the past to reclaim future.

I was born to be a jellyfish they said, he was born to be a jackal, then you are the moose. You suppose to live in the forest whilst the deep blue sea is my home. Just before you draw your terminal breath please face the curtains with no bow.

Jelly knows no biological expiration dates, we are trapped in this jolly rotten cosmic eternally.

Krazy Kosmic Klairvoyance Klosure.

All is well, sir not a seer. Do not eat the jelly if you happen to swim in the sea. Happy new tear 2017!

Postmortem Remould

Tongue and eyes protrude, I am just a piece of meat and so are you.

discomfyture

amidst my scarcely-stifled groans, amidst my moaning deep,
the most dreadful nightmare i might had,
when i found the disappearing echoes as the wind blow you down.

the shoes of the wicked kid

decorating my beloved AF-1 with barbie heads <3

Earth Mourns in Flowers

Tale of The Mopish Student

So tomorrow is the bloody effing deadline of my final project which is usually called TA (or 'Terong Antariksa' as said by my colleague Rinal). Substantively, this is not the final deadline but a preview deadline of the visual judgement.

However, deadline is never terrible but horrible.

I am not eggsagerrating,

but,

Soon my boarding house room would be a pool of tear hair

I had great hair-fall due to the stressful task whilst Mars is marking its branch on my face as the consequences of the lack of sleep time and the unstable hormones.

It's thirteen minutes to 1 am, yet still I'm working on my final project, illustrating short stories of Rain Chudori's. I re-reading Rain's 'Smoking with God' for the uncounted numbers of times, silhouettes of my father and mother appears on my mind abruptly, I can't bear to hold my drip drop teardrop.

I miss my parents.

Perchance, this is my most hubbub post ever and I'm really sorry for being so absurd.

Anyway, here's a preview of my final project:

And I shall tell my gratitude to Joanna Neborsky,  Frida Kahlo, Nickolas Murray, David La Chapelle Bjork, Shel Silverstein, Hannah Hoch, Spice Girls, multicoloured plastic ponies that once appear in my dream, also the zombinocchio, Oom Oscar Motuloh, Farrokh Bulsara, Beetle Juice, Pampam, Mr. Willy Wonka, Sammy Davis, Jr, Roodkapje, and Inyi the bunny & Popsicle the green coloured elf, for such inspirations. And for my parents and good friends, thanks for the support, you know who you are.

I am about to print the dummy at the dawn.

*fingercrossing*

i want to have circus around my neck

i want to have circus around my neck

i want to have circus around my neck

i want to have circus around my neck

i want to have circus around my neck

i want to have circus around my neck

i want to have circus around my neck

i want to have circus around my neck

the blood that flowing in my veins

dear mum & pop,


happy 31st anniversary
whatever happens, whatever happens,
both of your is blood flowing in my veins.
I am somewhat like a potion,
that made in a single cauldron by
a wizard and a witch.


love,


your daughter

lost in consciousness

there once was a girl
who was in love with junk
she looked very quirk
and she smelled like plastic and sometimes like playdoh

she was always flat,
because she spent too much time with the toys





this is actually a college project of Mister Bagus Endarto
viel geluk Meneer!

my brain across the moon

On earth the fairies, elves, and wee folks were all singing and dancing under the silvery rays of a harvest moon ,as they danced the fairy tunes that good be heard, but only by other mythical creatures and those who believe in them, drifting across the fields of bluebells.

I do believe in fairy and always dream about it everyday, but I never seen any of them in real life.

I really wants to have a green coloured skin and sharp ears, an elf costume with its marvellous hat, and rides a silvery white unicorn to school. I might be in gaeity if I own all these things.But, people judge me as if I have a lunatic asyllum and people might not count those kawaii things as clothes, they will see my hats more like woolly bladders. Well, if they laugh at me i'll give them shot of a Wrackspurt, they're invisible, they float in through your ears and make your brain go fuzzy hehehe

Blimey! I think I need an esoteric potion, the Polyjuice, while it can be used for both age and gender the most complicated potion, the Polyjuice Potion can't be used for a human to take an animal form or for a half-breed to assume human form.

Perhaps, I have to find Aberforth Bulsara the good warlock from Yorkshire and ask him to cast a right transformation spell to change my appearance to be the form of an elf. Somehow it's tiring to live as a human. *gasp*

the sumptuous gift

where's the magic light that used to shine usually when we ride the magik carpet? 'Twas a sumptuous gift I've ever had, haven't I told eh before?
I'd better go to bed again right after i finished this cup of banana milk if the light is gone.

I want to look through the window, enjoying therays, peek-a-boo-ing with the yellow sun, I might find a way to make myself a magik light ... 'Lumos'

Thank you

2009

i want to have an adventure through your nostril.

six women of six, five, four, three, two, one:
like a group of itsy bitsy insects that people avoid
(whence is derived the verb 'to flee')

did you really castrated the soldiers and dancing pleasantly?

none, i think, but an idiot could, or one that stoned.

inquisitiveness fly me to your your nose
that's why i want to have an adventure through your nostril.
#gerwani

rhymes from the dirty palette

numeros, la economia,
la farsa de la palabra,
los nervos azules son
no se' porqui - tambien rojos
pero meno de color

por los numeros pedomasi
y los nervos coloridos
las estrellos estan leohas

yo no quisera abrigas
ni la menor esperanga
todo se muere al compas
se lo que enciera la panza

----

numbers, the economy
the farce of words,
nerves are blue.
i don't know why - also red,
but full of colour

through the round numbers
and the coloured nerves
the stars are made
and the worlds are sounds.

i would not wish to harbour
the slightest hope,
everything moves to the beat
of what's enclosed in the belly.

by Magdalena Carmen Frieda Kahlo y Calderó

from the book The Diary of Frida Kahlo

rhymes from the dirty palette - my tribute to frida kahlo ♥
explosion of thoughts in the time of dawn and it disrupt me the most. Can't seem to accept money as the world's simplest yet deadly problem. We're all going to die, my dear. We're about to decay, the time would destroy our skin, slowly but sure. And the maggots would creep to the flesh, soon... soon... soon...

Rhinorrhea

I have unlimited amount of nasal fluid, my nose is such productive these days and I'm running out of tissue. Please let me know if you know aliens, witches, or anybody who needs natural glue, i'll give it for free

don't speak i can hear you

don't speak i can hear you

something from the ground

Think of what's in front of you now
Not of what's been left behind

Simple pleasures, to be found
If you reach the overground

Welcome To The Overground - Badly Drawn Boy

the oldest form of storytelling

an impromptu getaway

walk and then run

Run through the meadow and scare up the milking cows

Run down the beach kicking clouds of sand

Walk a windy weather day, feel your face blow away

Love You - The Free Design

the lone ranger

we are our own saviour