Archive for August 2010

Guns, Roses and Hearts.

Saturday, August 28, 2010 § 0

my drawings aren't good. my drawings are plain. actually, it was plain enough to show that there are no intentions lie behind every scratch and every lines and every points. simple. my drawings are one of the most honest-to-God things that I made. no veils. no secrets.

the gun with rose: I was under state of confusion and under illusions of control. I was currently watching a movie with lots of action sequences. so an idea came through my head. at first I only made gun with massive details, but then, it looked so plain, so I drew a rose, though it looks nothing like a rose. there's Beatle's song title on the upper left side, Happiness Is A Warm Gun.

the heart:
"One's heart shall be treated as kings and queens, as a diamond, because they are as soft as a dove's feather and as beautiful as the sun" -- Adrian.

Paint It Black.

Friday, August 27, 2010 § 0

I keep drawing things.
drawing things that I don't even know why I draw them.
maybe sadness.
maybe loneliness.
maybe because all of those unexplainable things that even I can't imagine how to find the simplest description of those things.

I drew girl that cried.
I drew two hands that were holding iPhones, male hand and female hand, that have tattoos.
I drew a doughnut. yes, weird. doughnut.
I drew men who played bass.
I drew skull with spine.
I drew gun with rose behind it.
I drew heart. human heart.
I drew two hands. again. one was in the air, wanted to shake the other's hand. the other was gesturing that the person didn't want to shake the one's hand.

there are words within those drawings. that I want to utter. words that came through my head. words that I like to be in the drawings. words that built the drawings. those writing may seem weird. may seem awkward. but those words are currently words that represent me the most. I love writing while drawing. I love questioning while drawing.

questions about the people that left. questions about people that leave nothing but vague memories. questions. questions. questions. I can't stand this. I'm one of those girls who think logically, so I'm one of those girls who need explanations, too. its like you know a good book, you've seen it a lot of times, but you just can't seem to touch it, you just can't read it, you just can't open it. because it is locked. behind bars. behind high ceilings. behind trapped doors. behind everything. the book's friend is only the darkness. waiting to be opened for someone that brave enough to dig it, I just don't understand how to dig it. how to safe myself but at the same time read the book. gain the knowledge. how to safely understand things.

the photo above is mine. pictures with stories behind my drawings coming up next.

For Those.

Thursday, August 19, 2010 § 0

Leaving Blues -- Bombay Bicycle Club

For those who made wrong decisions under heavy burdens:
have you ever thought about the others?

For those who never think the consequences of their actions:
how can you still be alive?

For those who are still in love with the one that had gone away:
how could you even breath?

For those who are still hurt because of someone that got away:
how could you survive all of these years?

For those who don't bite their lips when they see something sad about the person that got away:
could you please teach me how?

For those who are in love with the idea of something that isn't real:
is there any reverse button?

For those who left and never got back:

Non-exquisite Words

Friday, August 13, 2010 § 0

I would never understand why people leave. why people aren't with each other. why people don't want to be with each other. why people have to leave. why people have to be apart with each other. why people don't get the idea of being lonely is never good enough. why people are so greedy. I don't understand why people choose to leave and can't think of any reasons to stay. why they eventually forget about the other. why they usually end up alone.

I don't understand why people don't take chances. why people don't understand the idea of being alone and loneliness itself are the ultimate poverty. why people couldn't just understand that they would at some point wake up and the feeling loneliness strikes through them. why people couldn't just stick with that someone that would fill their world with happiness within those dark points. why people think that they could be alone or suffer loneliness. why people don't want to share. why people don't see their future with anyone else. why people could stand just being alone.

part of me wandering. part of me wondering. part of me listening. part of me sinking in.
am I the only one that feel this way?

Why Do People Leave?

Thursday, August 12, 2010 § 0

there you go world, people are leaving me.
and I'm alone in this world.
not really.
but people leave.
will they still remember me?

Joanna Newsom - Peach, Plum, Pear

Under Heavy Eyelids.

Saturday, August 7, 2010 § 0

its raining cats and dogs here. not much of a cheerful rain, really. more of a scary one. the ones that make you can't here your own voice and thoughts. its good, though, for me anyway. the sound of heavy rain blocks my thoughts and my... nightmares, also voices in my head. voices that scream loud, voices that cry loud, voices that say all the same things over and over again.

the heavy thuds of rain falling from the skies makes the city got quieter and colder. unusual weather for this bloody hot city, I even wear my yellow mustard sweater. feels like I'm on holiday or something, because I feel very lazy today, and very unproductive. also the fact that I wear my lazy sweater. I love sweaters. I really need sweaters. I'm in love with vintage-looking sweaters and worn-looking long shirts and men oversized sweaters. wearing those things make me feels safe and at home, warm also. but mostly, they  make me feel like home, like I belong to somewhere. isn't that perfectly non-sense? but I love them anyway, I love my sweaters, my long shirts, I need to buy more sweaters, cheap, worn-looking, vintage-looking, but still in good condition, sweaters. does anyone know where to find one?

yesterday was epically chaos. the closing of Schoolympic. people were there, lots of people. stranger, familiar-face, I-know-you-you-know-me, friends and even best friends were there, oh and teachers, too. people gathered to see some bands that I've never heard of, to witness some of their friends and their relatives won some awards, to laughed with their friends, to made some memories that will eventually only be remembered vaguely. I met some of my long-time-no-see friends, they remained as they were, as I used to know, good or bad. also, fortune teller read my future, past and present life.

I asked about my career first. he told me about my past, he read on his cards that I was reluctant to go to my current school but I eventually love it, it was the truth. the present isn't so great, he said, I will see some obstacles ahead, those obstacles are going to be from boys. he said that I will meet this one perfect guy and I will have this one perfect relationship with him, but my career will go down and my grades will fall. I cried out "No, no I want my grades." but he smiled and said, "but you heart screamed for the perfect boyfriend." holy cow, its the truth. for the future, I'll be bound between two choices, but will have a great life. he's a really good adviser, he advised me to just focus on my study and love will come find me eventually. he also knows that I sleep a lot and lazy as cows. I'm afraid of.

I hate goodbyes. Emil is on her way to Wisconsin now. I'm going to miss her so bad, because she was one of my close friends I have in high school, not as close as Way, but still as important. hope you're gonna be well. oh I hate people that leave. and I also hate people that isn't loyal and it disgusts me.

I keep biting my lip and hurting my skins. not that I've gone emo or something, but I've gone... crazy. mad. or whatever you people call this. I hate this. this feeling. this uneasy, rips you apart from inside because of blurry and vague thing. bloody lypophrenia. I wish I was normal. I don't want to be. I wish I was. I need. because. God, help.

this song feels like home. feels very safe. like you're in a sanctuary. far away from real world. well, it is to me anyway.

Rockettothesky - Grizzly Man
[Nich Hanche]

Really. Imaginably. (Im)Possible.

Sunday, August 1, 2010 § 0

I wish I could stop feeling like this.
you know,
sorrow, joy, happiness, pain, guilt, throbbing madness all at ones.
you know,
hormones and tell-tale of growing ups.

I want it rain.
I want the world to rain.
I want them to feel the fresh air.
I want them to remember that in the end, its the world you need.
everyone, I think, needs to be wash from their problems.
they need to be refreshed.
they need to live their life.
they need to leave their pains behind.
they all need to stop suffering.

they say time will heals.
will they bury the hole that cut open forcefully?
will they grow the leaves in already abandoned tree?
will they promise someone won't dig a similar hole?
or they will only bring hope. false hopes.

"no more." my heart says. "I can't handle this. all of this."
you have to, I scream. or else I won't survive.
my brain starts to function on its own
forgetting how vulnerable my heart is
and my heart is in the darkest phase
like someone is lurking out of the shadow of the darkness
like something hiding in the dimmest of light
something broken
and feels all kinds of them at once.

[Joe Curtin]
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