Kigali

"Do you happen to be awake?"
"Luckily I had a bad dream."
"Loss is an odd feeling, even when it's some dream I never knew until it's gone."
"What kind of odd feeling?"
"I don't know really, it's just weird. Reality is weird. I refuse to live in it, I don't want to be attached to it."
"We don't live in it nor attached to it; we impose it."
"How do you gather the strength?"
"I know there's always a price for everything, so I make my sacrifice. But, yes, that kind of mindset often leads me to the brink of bankruptcy, and that's the zero sum game of life."
"To where do you direct your sacrifice?"
"To whatever I'm certain of."

the April 4th tête-à-tête

the month before the fourth commemoration, today

hac protegor umbra: On our willingness to give we see the grasp and wave of hands be still with stars falling in between, so much for a lonely man who waits for another watershed to complete his destitution.

innervision: Those are meant to fall, or else our palms will be gazing at the ordinary ones and waving from below. Isn't misery not about loss, nor being washed out, but rather a matter of waiting? And the hope for the waiting to stop completes it accordingly?

moony

hac protegor umbra (22:51): I caught an awkward emotional moment: a Melbourne metro tramways ticket slipped out of my grandfather's book while I was reading it, somehow I felt like drowning in the river.. So tell me how did it feel like being on the moon?
innervision (23:02): It's lonely, and hard to breathe in; it would only suit for short detour. Everything looks blurry, the meticulous details are certain loss..
hac protegor umbra (23:08): Are you describing a fish pond? I'm having one in my head now.
innervision (23:26): No. It is all about staring at the vast ocean from far above, thus losing sight of how the waves dance or the perspective upon contures.
hac protegor umbra (23:42): Do waves dance? I don't think Captain Ahab would agree, the whole planet is sitting on a wheelchair, bluish infinity.. I want to quit staring.
innervision (00:05): Infinity does dance. Go on dear, then what after your eyes are closed?
hac protegor umbra (00:13): I'll be seeing myself doing a bit of psychoanalysis on the pillow, living off a 24 m square room of abstract geometry, starting up the revolution.
innervision (00:32): Just keep me aware of how deep into the fire you go, would you?
hac protegor umbra (00:48): And I don't like how Nietzsche said about the dance of infinity; you can never see the samba of a nebula, because we're the ones who do it.
innervision (01:03): Do it, merely stare at it; it's just the points we take off from. Either way, it tickles. The sensation is what matters, for me at least.

dry dessert of presence

Di ranjangku aku kembali mengais hampa
Ketika itu aku telah memilih untuk
menjejak kuat
dan rusuk pun membelesak
Kata-kata terlepas dari belenggu makna,
nafas membungkus setiap detak
Ingin rasanya ekor mataku mendesak teriak
mempersembahkan bagimu sekuntum ragu
Tetesan ini bernama penggapaian
yang menari mengundang
melalui ketersembunyiannya dari balik pangkal ombak
Sungguh, pagi telah kita cambukki
seiring dengan keterikatan sebentuk ungkapan
di atas pasak bernama belalak mata
Segalanya untuk melumpuhkan kaki waktu
Aku hanya ingin terbenam di lenganmu..

it's been a week

Three days prior to his arrival, his statement stroke me on how I had become a burden by minimizing my list of compromise. Somehow though, I was not gilded by guilt, but rather drowned in anger as to the difference of perspectives, and the different points we chose to take off from. Thus worrying was not something to be avoided, as my withdrawing seemed no longer to be merely a threat. It appeared as one easier option.
I chose to play it dead.
The people say that only when something is not present we would start to miss it. What happens to me this time is the opposite. The re-presence, and being again accustomed to it, is what led me to another realization of what can actually fill my gaps. Because probably after all it is no longer a question of needs, or even a sense of companion. It is a matter of colors being injected into my streams.
Then wait, it is not a re-presence. It is the new presence.

(Photo taken in Cisarua, May 2008)

Parr-à-pluie

Je te tiens,
chaudement dans mes bras.
Écoute la pluie qui frappe
sur les fenêtres.
J'ai perdu
la puissance de la solitude,
l'invincibilité de l'homme sans coeur.
Maintenant j'ai peur.
À cause de toi,
je suis faible comme dans un rêve
de la douceur de mon avenir
avec toi.
Je te tiens,
chaudement,
c'est mieux, n'est-ce pas?
Et au dehors il fait froid.
Pourquoi tu pars?


[midnight drivel. sorry to disturb you, oxygen.]

pseudologia fantastica

Dimness vanishing each and every precinct and reckoning,
toward the cavernous cavity in darkest sea..
“Sans toi, les emotions d’ajourd hui ne seraient
que la peau morte des émotions d’autrefois”
Dan aku pun membangunkanmu pagi itu,
dengan ketap mulut bergegas menyibak subuh dan
langit masih coklat kita menghitung jejak,
hingga pantai itu dengan cerita berlompatan
bagai biji hujan menjelma laut tempat bersampan.

yolk

Summer days will be gone too soon..
It’s still chiseled deeply beneath the scalp
The trice as the gravels of consciousness were hurled at me –
it didn’t flog, rather constrain me to evaporate
Ultimate choice, the acid wasn’t willing to stimulate me
The durable wind from the ocean blew
granting the sound I had whistled years before
I was cornered
My fingers traversed destructively
They weren’t the ones scratching my skin ‘till it bled
I dissented to fuss over how low I had submerged
nor how wide the orifices enshrouding my carcass are
One might solely be a marvel on its epoch,
it has been the foremost substance replenishing my thorax
The grey matter has been in the burden of prolonging series of eon
If only I could subdue the chief
You wouldn’t have to flinch at that epidemic of the K-2 climbers,
scrutinizing me with my hands hastened hankering a rainbow
I apostrophize exoneration for staying inert leaving the room unventilated
Just put the fan in gear
I’m compliant to oxygenate your visage as well
Down to the mizzle and a hoedown renews on fleeing
Squat dejectedly in the end of the niche with a single grief:
frailty to transmute into the night
I’ll grab a disc from the pile and swallow it up
all my veins then beam and chant our tale
It will be long prior to when I cease licking my bite
Luckily the moon retains no foot nor tongue
You are far more than merely the shadow I can’t seize

Hac protegor umbra

sheer simplicity

kicked down a hurdle,

entangled deeper

sky admirers

The hollowness beneath sprouts out some contingent manifestation of crystaled contemplations. It will be all unrevealed when the monastery of drifting away is settled on own hook. But none would prefer the risk on discretion of hurting his sight with the plain unbeautified blue.
We are here for those folks..