penghidupan by chairil anwar
this poem depicted a harrowing experience of surviving the hardship in life, where the fruits of the labour had only emerged after the body (perhaps the soul) was dead.
penghidupan
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Category Archives: Literature
think of dopamine like gasoline
“you combine that with a brain equipped with a lesser ability to put on the brakes than normal, and you get people who push limits”
– Article “The Mystery of Risk”, National Geographic, June 2013 –
on Inferno
“The human mind has a primitive ego defense mechanism that negates all realities that produce too much stress for the brain to handle. It’s called denial.”
– Dr. Sienna Brooks, Inferno
books
i’ve been an avid reader since i was a scrawny kid. started to read when i was 5 and been hooked with books since then. i could read fast..my utmost achievement was finishing a book within few hours (was not a pictorial book haha). enid blyton was my fav author (still is). i remember the time my dad had bought a massive encyclopedia collection which includes the paintings by van gogh that got me thinking a lot about doomsday. somehow his starry night painting reflected doomsday through my eyes at that time. i was a weird kid i know. i think i was dyslexic but my parents failed to diagnose it haha.
then i was most lucky at school where my friends were avid readers as well. my bff at that time could read faster than me and had read more books that i could ever compete with. silly game that we played. on top of enid blyton we read ahadiat akashah and sweet valley series. and i as the weird one, read tamar jalis as well. books were expensive and relatively limited in our small town, where the were only two bookstores that i know, popular bookstore and pustaka union. oh i remembered going to penang when i was 11 and i bought dracula by bram stoker. was so happy back then.
of the writers that i love most now are john grisham, michael connelly, stieg larsson (translated to english of course), robert ludlum, stephen king, sidney sheldon (the doomsday conspiracy is the best), to name a few. i of course read chick lits too, the most fitting ones are sheila o’flanagan and sophie kinsella. and of course dan brown. i love all thriller fiction actually.
and i will then try to visit the libraries in new york, alexandria, and many more if i have the chance to.
i think i made a wrong career choice..should have become a book critic or a librarian.
blessed are the forgetful, for they get the better even of their blunders.
eternal sunshine of the spotless mind is a film about two people who desperately try to erase their own memories about each other. spotless mind is where mind is pure from memories which brings out the eternal happiness (sunshine) state. however as it says here;
“you may forget a past memory but you can’t forget the impulses, instincts and emotions that arose from that past incident”source
expectantly they both try to escape from having their memories erased instead.
such irony.
[clementine to joel] meet me..in montauk..
then it fell apart, fell apart
scene one
{bathroom}
water dripping from tap in the sink. the female protagonist closes the tap and spit the remains of toothpaste coated with saliva into the sink. she then gargles.
{bedroom}
the ceiling fan circling lazily. the female protagonist looks sullenly at the array of her clothing inside the wardrobe and then she looks outside the window.
{subway}
the female protagonist steadies herself by holding on to the railing above her, in the middle of morning crowd in the subway train. she is being pushed but manages to support herself. she looks forlornly outside the window.
scene two
the sound of the tapping of the pen. the female protagonist is deep in her thought, staring blankly at her laptop while other co-workers are talking near her. a guy is making jokes. the others laugh loudly.
{boss’ room}
a guy (menacing look, good looking, late 40s) comments on her performance. he is not happy with her. they are both unhappy of being put in that situation in the same room. she gives him a blank look. that makes him angrier.
scene three
{inside the female protagonist’s car}
she waits inside her car. at the nice neighbourhood, in the evening. there are the sounds of a flock of birds flying to their nests, kids laughing and parents coming home in their cars. her eyes are fixed on a house across where she parks her car. a guy (identifiable as the boss in the former scene; has the back to the audience) coming out of the car parked at that house. he is greeted by the kids (around 10 and 8 years old; girl and boy). she waits until everyone has gone inside the house.
the female protagonist then comes out of her car. the camera focuses at her feet. then she withdraws an axe from her car and slowly walking towards the house.
(cue extreme ways by moby)
end
jangan jadi jumud
orang lain quote Nietzsche dalam penulisan mereka. gunakan philosophy keluhan Nietzsche dan aplikasikan dalam kehidupan mereka. good for them. at least they have something, someone to look up to. ada kebanyakan hidup berlandaskan Al-Qur’an dan Hadith..live by the book they say. good for them, they are the believers and the faithful ones. the world is greying, filled with dusts of sins never been thwarted. we do need the righteous ones in this world, i think. there are people plastering blasphemy accusations onto others, raging over muslims befriending and calling for christmas merriment with their christian neighbours. Haram katanya. jangan minum kopi ini, haram, jangan bagi anak minum milo, masyaallah haram.
jihad! aku harus jihad! berkatalah benar walaupun pahit! seorang muslim wajib menegur rakan muslimnya. itu wajib!
all of them, they’re mortals, sinners. dan yang obvious (mungkin tidak pada mereka), they’re trollers and labelists. internet trollers tanpa nama, berani berkata menggunakan papan kekunci tetapi tidak di mulut tidak berpedang.
jangan jadi jumud.
i am sleepy.
Aku by Chairil Anwar
My fav poet is Indonesian’s Chairil Anwar. Sadly he died in 1949 when he was only 27 but has managed to produce close to 100 literature, including 70 poems. He was described as an arrogant individualistic by some, as reflected in my fave poem of his, Aku.
what's brewing? 