It's a Game...
This is a pretty old clip but i don't think many know of it...the song is by Thomas Fersen...well i just think its really cool, the song and the video...
Mind, 'Think' and Immortality
*Cerita ini adalah rekaan semata-mata
“Innumerable changes of mood are yours,
And they are uncontrolled by you.
If you knew their origin,
You would be able to dominate them.
If you cannot localize your changes,
How can you localize that which found you?”
As absurd as this might sound, last night I dreamt that I could fly.
Circumstances, I guess that’s the word I was looking for. That probably is the main reason why others consider me as ‘different’ or even going as far as calling me weird. Having grown up experiencing many ‘ups and downs’ in life and living with the nicest of person and also the evil-est of people had made me a believer and a skeptic. As we all know there are more bad people in this world than there are good ones. However there are others whom I despise more than the rest. These are people who under the pretense of doing good do bad things and justify their acts in the name of religion, love etc.
People who fool themselves with make beliefs to be exempted from punishments and to get rid of the guilt that taunts.
Getting back to the way I was brought up, the circumstances involved made the way I look at things differently, different than what the majority perceives at least. I guess in a, though I do not entirely understand this, I am assuming it is safe to say that everything happens for a reason.
They’re all only considered right, because they think that they’re in the right path. But who is to judge? Who is to settle this battle of right and wrong? The time will come a wise man told me soon enough. That frightened me.
My parents upon realizing that they named their child with the name of the devil changed it because they thought that it was the best thing to do… my birth name was Rushdi, when the book came out they rushed and changed my name. I am now known as Mikail.
Like every child I used to be cheerful and playful. But things change, right? The world reveals itself to you. Damned world, if anyone thinks of it as a haven of sort or that they want to be reborn again and again… it is nothing but lack of information, imagination, or anything else that can substituted for the word stupid.
During my adolescent years I witnessed many things, bad things such as fights among close relatives, fights amongst strangers, wars, separations, greed, and misuse of authority, etc…point is, it was enough to taint my perception on people. These things had planted something in my buoyant mind; worry and distrust.
This corrupted my corruptible mind. Something I wasn’t aware of before. And it had somewhat grown into me. I also realized that for someone to be pleased with you and to make him or her happy, one must to learn to impress. I told myself that I should stop trying to do things in a manner that will confuse my intentions into one that might want to impress people.
Time passed and after having moved around a few places. I had close friends, true friends, but all those moving around made it somewhat futile. These days my time which I normally spent alone either by just sitting idly or doing whatever it was I felt like.
I loved nature; it gave me a certain kind of calmness and security. I used to climb on huge trees with wide branches, pluck ripe fruits and share it with the rest of the occupants…that was fun especially when it was a huge jackfruit.
There was also a time where I discovered death. There were these strange people who would pass my house carrying a corpse on a wooden bed, lighting up fireworks, dancing as they walked towards the beach. Everyday some one died; sometimes they were guys who did multiple summersaults as they walked by. The music wasn’t very good though, they’d blow this shell thing which made a blowing noise similar to a trumpet. At first I was awed, but when I started to look at the corpse decorated with flower and the stillness of the body, I thought, why are they appearing to have fun? Is this a celebration?
Soon enough I learned that everyone dies. That too exposed me to something-- paranoia. I only have one person whom I can totally have faith and trust in and they too are tangible. I used to shiver at the thought and that fear now transcended mere thoughts into a different level-- it’s as if I could touch it and witness it. It made me question a lot of things like the purpose of my existence. On a positive note, it made me an avid student of life.
Recently we moved houses, to an urban area this time, I was quite sure that we weren’t going to be moving away from there anytime soon. We didn’t have the capacity to do so anymore. I always dreamt of having normal friends. I then realized these Normal friends who normally had everything they wanted and almost anything they wished for were also normally always angry and upset about something. It is as if people with no problems, created problems of their own. It made me ask myself, ‘define normal’. Normal is what the majority perceive as normal.
Speaking of true friends I finally met one; we met during our secondary days. He was nothing normal though. He was as or even an outcast with a dark story of his own. His name was Rustam but people called him Russ. He didn’t like it when people called him that because it reminded him of Russell Crowe. He told me that when people called him Russ, he always imagined they calling him Rust.
Rust or Russ however you want to see him was exposed to the wonders of drugs in an early age. He was into anything that made him feel not his normal self. Despite his usage he was really a good, kindhearted human being and I mean it when I say that.
“Let’s get high man.” He would say. That was about the first thing that came out from his mouth every time we met. And each time I told him, to indulge oneself with pleasure that one is not supposed to be experiencing will only lead to massive amount of pain and destruction.
“You’re probably right, but I am not doing this to gain pleasure. Well my main objective is to not think, but since that is not possible I use it to drift from my current state. I love you man.” Rus said.
I assumed that he was already on some kind of elevated state. But it’s these ‘test’ that one has to face to journey on to eventually be freed of such feeling/ things, no? I asked.
Inaudible…
I couldn’t hear a thing and suddenly…
Amplified heart beats
Amplified heart beats
The sound of train going off in distance…
We tried and experimented on many things. Our objective was to stop the mind from thinking. How dumb and stupid. But then that was a good excuse to get high.
Rus was sent to a hospital. It was a norm with him; he always wanted to double the dosage of whatever I was having. After a few days, he was back in my room, in my broken house of my broken family. “I love you man, lets get high.” I laughed at him and said what did you bring today?
“I couldn’t find much.” He said, he looked at the plastic bag he brought and said, “I have some erm stimulants, hallucinogens and some sleeping pills which falls under the depressant category. I think” He said laughing. “What do you have?” he asked.
Some meth, weed and a mixture of tablets that I’ve grounded into powder… He smiled and said, “That’ll do the job. Let’s do something totally idiotic and mix them all with flour and try to bake them? Hahaha”
A few hours passed and it didn’t seem to work as much, but it was somewhat painful. We both laid there, still in the world.
Suddenly I saw Marvin Gaye, in his usual smooth, soulful self he sang to me, “Oh baby.” The way he said it was too good. Rus was playing one of his clips on the monitor. He was singing ‘what’s going on’ I see the people in the audience not singing, laughing, dancing or smiling. Their expressions were serious and they were listening attentively to the message he was conveying in a very smooth, soulful way. That’s weird I said.
I began to feel my head spinning, but it was still empty inside; I then randomly asked Rus, what was the best praise someone gave you? He smiled and said, “Now that’s easy.” He smiled and started, “there was this girl whom I once went out with, she told me that she loved me and that she couldn’t bear to be part from me…so what she did was she broke off with me and started going out with a girl. Hahahaha”
I laughed hysterically at that, we both laughed our ass off. Rus had this vibe that attracted girls, they weren’t an issue to him. And that made me quite popular as well hence they were no longer an issue to me either. They were helpful at times and played their parts when needed. But that was as far as it went.
“What’s yours?” he asked me. Okay, this is something that really happened. Before that can you put some Cats Steven on? Rus stood up and put on some Cats Steven on. I started, you know Mario right? The guy who shaves his face for hours till it starts to bleed and once when we were high he cut my hair from night till dawn. Haha. That was the longest haircut I ever had in my entire life!
I am not sure if he was under the influence at that time, but I was quite taken aback, overwhelmed and confused by what he said. I spoke softly in a mild tone that a normal person might have difficulty listening to. My head felt empty and this new recipe caused us to feel numb all over. We couldn’t feel a thing, not even when my hand rubbing on my other. I noticed Rus paying his fullest attention on me and was waiting. “So, what did that scumbag say?” Rus asked.
Mario was this 30+ dude whom taught us many things but one day he stole all of our stuff and money. He was a really good guy, but under the influence, good people do bad things. That’s one of the gravest consequences of these chemical substances.
So one morning… before that can you put on Vivaldi’s ‘winter’ please? I suddenly feel like hearing it. Rus with no expression on his face stood up slowly again and walked towards the computer. I looked at him moving. I swear to god it felt like waiting for hours, he moved really slowly. And waiting for him to walk back and return to his resting spot seemed unearthly.
I resumed, one morning, as we were sitting, we were speaking of a matter that I no longer remember…he then suddenly started talking about the Mel Gibson movie you know, “passion of the Christ”. Rus gaze was focused on me.
“You know what?” Mario asked.
What? I said in reply, “Last night I saw that movie, and as the movie went on, I began to cry a little.” Okay, so what man, I saw that movie, it was quite nice actually I said. I didn’t cry though, I said to him.
Mario continued, “As the movie went on and I don’t know why, while Jesus was being tortured, for some reason I was reminded of you. I kept thinking of you and I started to cry more. I was reminded of you!” he said sobbing.
I kept quiet, didn’t know what to say, I guess I really am that pathetic. So yeah, that was it. Funny thing was I didn’t see my struggle all that meaningful haha I laughed looking at Rus. I looked at him again and realized that he was once again unconscious. I called the ambulance and he was taken to the hospital. I guess he took in more than his body could take, like always. He was greedy when it came to drugs.
I too, after calling for the ambulance fell unconscious. I woke up in the hospital. I guess I too was greedy when it came to drugs. Our parents were there and it was a norm to them. When they visited us, they didn’t complain or got angry. I guess this is what you call unconditional love. I respect that. When people expect something in return then I think it’s no longer very sincere, I disrespect that.
I think we didn’t make it this time. Our bodies were dead and I could see it from above. I am not sure if I am high, this wasn’t the first time though. Was I experiencing another outer body experience? Well it doesn’t matter. Point is I am still thinking and I always do. I guess in a way we never seize to die.
Like how the famous Descartes said, “Cogito ergo sum” “I think, therefore I am”
*Inaudible*
Amplified heart beats
The sound of train going off in distance…
I was a poor boy,
A devotee of piety,
When you’re poor and weak,
There is but one to turn to.
I see the people around me,
So relaxed and nonchalantly,
Living life in the sake of a good times,
I examined and then considered,
Questioned. What is the difference between them and me?
And that me in being piety, them in being cheery,
Inexistent alone, but with them I am alike.
They looked rejoiced, in their own terrain.
I followed them, played with them,
And I learned from them,
They chased and longed for pleasure with wealth,
More and more, they kept asking for more.
Didn’t take me long to become heedful,
Of what a waste, waste of phase, of lies and guise
They cover up their sorrows with adornments, entertainments and diversions
Get rid of worry through delusions and hallucinations.
I am aware of the chief deceiver in play,
It has its hand in the game,
To make no difference between both sides,
I gazed my friends; they look back in loathe.
The group deserved to be left in error,
They misplaced their faith in their own ruin,
Yet they think they’re truly guided,
The trumpet blows, and it's proven.
“Innumerable changes of mood are yours,
And they are uncontrolled by you.
If you knew their origin,
You would be able to dominate them.
If you cannot localize your changes,
How can you localize that which found you?”
As absurd as this might sound, last night I dreamt that I could fly.
Circumstances, I guess that’s the word I was looking for. That probably is the main reason why others consider me as ‘different’ or even going as far as calling me weird. Having grown up experiencing many ‘ups and downs’ in life and living with the nicest of person and also the evil-est of people had made me a believer and a skeptic. As we all know there are more bad people in this world than there are good ones. However there are others whom I despise more than the rest. These are people who under the pretense of doing good do bad things and justify their acts in the name of religion, love etc.
People who fool themselves with make beliefs to be exempted from punishments and to get rid of the guilt that taunts.
Getting back to the way I was brought up, the circumstances involved made the way I look at things differently, different than what the majority perceives at least. I guess in a, though I do not entirely understand this, I am assuming it is safe to say that everything happens for a reason.
They’re all only considered right, because they think that they’re in the right path. But who is to judge? Who is to settle this battle of right and wrong? The time will come a wise man told me soon enough. That frightened me.
My parents upon realizing that they named their child with the name of the devil changed it because they thought that it was the best thing to do… my birth name was Rushdi, when the book came out they rushed and changed my name. I am now known as Mikail.
Like every child I used to be cheerful and playful. But things change, right? The world reveals itself to you. Damned world, if anyone thinks of it as a haven of sort or that they want to be reborn again and again… it is nothing but lack of information, imagination, or anything else that can substituted for the word stupid.
During my adolescent years I witnessed many things, bad things such as fights among close relatives, fights amongst strangers, wars, separations, greed, and misuse of authority, etc…point is, it was enough to taint my perception on people. These things had planted something in my buoyant mind; worry and distrust.
This corrupted my corruptible mind. Something I wasn’t aware of before. And it had somewhat grown into me. I also realized that for someone to be pleased with you and to make him or her happy, one must to learn to impress. I told myself that I should stop trying to do things in a manner that will confuse my intentions into one that might want to impress people.
Time passed and after having moved around a few places. I had close friends, true friends, but all those moving around made it somewhat futile. These days my time which I normally spent alone either by just sitting idly or doing whatever it was I felt like.
I loved nature; it gave me a certain kind of calmness and security. I used to climb on huge trees with wide branches, pluck ripe fruits and share it with the rest of the occupants…that was fun especially when it was a huge jackfruit.
There was also a time where I discovered death. There were these strange people who would pass my house carrying a corpse on a wooden bed, lighting up fireworks, dancing as they walked towards the beach. Everyday some one died; sometimes they were guys who did multiple summersaults as they walked by. The music wasn’t very good though, they’d blow this shell thing which made a blowing noise similar to a trumpet. At first I was awed, but when I started to look at the corpse decorated with flower and the stillness of the body, I thought, why are they appearing to have fun? Is this a celebration?
Soon enough I learned that everyone dies. That too exposed me to something-- paranoia. I only have one person whom I can totally have faith and trust in and they too are tangible. I used to shiver at the thought and that fear now transcended mere thoughts into a different level-- it’s as if I could touch it and witness it. It made me question a lot of things like the purpose of my existence. On a positive note, it made me an avid student of life.
Recently we moved houses, to an urban area this time, I was quite sure that we weren’t going to be moving away from there anytime soon. We didn’t have the capacity to do so anymore. I always dreamt of having normal friends. I then realized these Normal friends who normally had everything they wanted and almost anything they wished for were also normally always angry and upset about something. It is as if people with no problems, created problems of their own. It made me ask myself, ‘define normal’. Normal is what the majority perceive as normal.
Speaking of true friends I finally met one; we met during our secondary days. He was nothing normal though. He was as or even an outcast with a dark story of his own. His name was Rustam but people called him Russ. He didn’t like it when people called him that because it reminded him of Russell Crowe. He told me that when people called him Russ, he always imagined they calling him Rust.
Rust or Russ however you want to see him was exposed to the wonders of drugs in an early age. He was into anything that made him feel not his normal self. Despite his usage he was really a good, kindhearted human being and I mean it when I say that.
“Let’s get high man.” He would say. That was about the first thing that came out from his mouth every time we met. And each time I told him, to indulge oneself with pleasure that one is not supposed to be experiencing will only lead to massive amount of pain and destruction.
“You’re probably right, but I am not doing this to gain pleasure. Well my main objective is to not think, but since that is not possible I use it to drift from my current state. I love you man.” Rus said.
I assumed that he was already on some kind of elevated state. But it’s these ‘test’ that one has to face to journey on to eventually be freed of such feeling/ things, no? I asked.
Inaudible…
I couldn’t hear a thing and suddenly…
Amplified heart beats
Amplified heart beats
The sound of train going off in distance…
We tried and experimented on many things. Our objective was to stop the mind from thinking. How dumb and stupid. But then that was a good excuse to get high.
Rus was sent to a hospital. It was a norm with him; he always wanted to double the dosage of whatever I was having. After a few days, he was back in my room, in my broken house of my broken family. “I love you man, lets get high.” I laughed at him and said what did you bring today?
“I couldn’t find much.” He said, he looked at the plastic bag he brought and said, “I have some erm stimulants, hallucinogens and some sleeping pills which falls under the depressant category. I think” He said laughing. “What do you have?” he asked.
Some meth, weed and a mixture of tablets that I’ve grounded into powder… He smiled and said, “That’ll do the job. Let’s do something totally idiotic and mix them all with flour and try to bake them? Hahaha”
A few hours passed and it didn’t seem to work as much, but it was somewhat painful. We both laid there, still in the world.
Suddenly I saw Marvin Gaye, in his usual smooth, soulful self he sang to me, “Oh baby.” The way he said it was too good. Rus was playing one of his clips on the monitor. He was singing ‘what’s going on’ I see the people in the audience not singing, laughing, dancing or smiling. Their expressions were serious and they were listening attentively to the message he was conveying in a very smooth, soulful way. That’s weird I said.
I began to feel my head spinning, but it was still empty inside; I then randomly asked Rus, what was the best praise someone gave you? He smiled and said, “Now that’s easy.” He smiled and started, “there was this girl whom I once went out with, she told me that she loved me and that she couldn’t bear to be part from me…so what she did was she broke off with me and started going out with a girl. Hahahaha”
I laughed hysterically at that, we both laughed our ass off. Rus had this vibe that attracted girls, they weren’t an issue to him. And that made me quite popular as well hence they were no longer an issue to me either. They were helpful at times and played their parts when needed. But that was as far as it went.
“What’s yours?” he asked me. Okay, this is something that really happened. Before that can you put some Cats Steven on? Rus stood up and put on some Cats Steven on. I started, you know Mario right? The guy who shaves his face for hours till it starts to bleed and once when we were high he cut my hair from night till dawn. Haha. That was the longest haircut I ever had in my entire life!
I am not sure if he was under the influence at that time, but I was quite taken aback, overwhelmed and confused by what he said. I spoke softly in a mild tone that a normal person might have difficulty listening to. My head felt empty and this new recipe caused us to feel numb all over. We couldn’t feel a thing, not even when my hand rubbing on my other. I noticed Rus paying his fullest attention on me and was waiting. “So, what did that scumbag say?” Rus asked.
Mario was this 30+ dude whom taught us many things but one day he stole all of our stuff and money. He was a really good guy, but under the influence, good people do bad things. That’s one of the gravest consequences of these chemical substances.
So one morning… before that can you put on Vivaldi’s ‘winter’ please? I suddenly feel like hearing it. Rus with no expression on his face stood up slowly again and walked towards the computer. I looked at him moving. I swear to god it felt like waiting for hours, he moved really slowly. And waiting for him to walk back and return to his resting spot seemed unearthly.
I resumed, one morning, as we were sitting, we were speaking of a matter that I no longer remember…he then suddenly started talking about the Mel Gibson movie you know, “passion of the Christ”. Rus gaze was focused on me.
“You know what?” Mario asked.
What? I said in reply, “Last night I saw that movie, and as the movie went on, I began to cry a little.” Okay, so what man, I saw that movie, it was quite nice actually I said. I didn’t cry though, I said to him.
Mario continued, “As the movie went on and I don’t know why, while Jesus was being tortured, for some reason I was reminded of you. I kept thinking of you and I started to cry more. I was reminded of you!” he said sobbing.
I kept quiet, didn’t know what to say, I guess I really am that pathetic. So yeah, that was it. Funny thing was I didn’t see my struggle all that meaningful haha I laughed looking at Rus. I looked at him again and realized that he was once again unconscious. I called the ambulance and he was taken to the hospital. I guess he took in more than his body could take, like always. He was greedy when it came to drugs.
I too, after calling for the ambulance fell unconscious. I woke up in the hospital. I guess I too was greedy when it came to drugs. Our parents were there and it was a norm to them. When they visited us, they didn’t complain or got angry. I guess this is what you call unconditional love. I respect that. When people expect something in return then I think it’s no longer very sincere, I disrespect that.
I think we didn’t make it this time. Our bodies were dead and I could see it from above. I am not sure if I am high, this wasn’t the first time though. Was I experiencing another outer body experience? Well it doesn’t matter. Point is I am still thinking and I always do. I guess in a way we never seize to die.
Like how the famous Descartes said, “Cogito ergo sum” “I think, therefore I am”
*Inaudible*
Amplified heart beats
The sound of train going off in distance…
I was a poor boy,
A devotee of piety,
When you’re poor and weak,
There is but one to turn to.
I see the people around me,
So relaxed and nonchalantly,
Living life in the sake of a good times,
I examined and then considered,
Questioned. What is the difference between them and me?
And that me in being piety, them in being cheery,
Inexistent alone, but with them I am alike.
They looked rejoiced, in their own terrain.
I followed them, played with them,
And I learned from them,
They chased and longed for pleasure with wealth,
More and more, they kept asking for more.
Didn’t take me long to become heedful,
Of what a waste, waste of phase, of lies and guise
They cover up their sorrows with adornments, entertainments and diversions
Get rid of worry through delusions and hallucinations.
I am aware of the chief deceiver in play,
It has its hand in the game,
To make no difference between both sides,
I gazed my friends; they look back in loathe.
The group deserved to be left in error,
They misplaced their faith in their own ruin,
Yet they think they’re truly guided,
The trumpet blows, and it's proven.
Collision of Minds
He closes his eyes and opens it,
Closes his eyes and opens it,
The dark empty space or the current blues,
Isn’t there a different choice?
He knew closing his eyes is futility,
Temporary,
Elusive,
Closes his eyes and opens it,
But the black space changes into a white story,
Now he closes his eyes and opens it,
Momentary bliss comes with casualties.
Caught up in an Iraq,
A Somalia,
A Palestine,
A war one finds relief in a second of peace,
One man’s mind,
A universe of its own,
There is no saying what is and what is not,
For if you haven’t realized,
That, that is the epitome of man,
A man is either in open,
Or closed within his own,
With barricades all around him,
Surrounding him,
Enveloping him,
Which blinds him and ties him,
He talks in things, within his boundaries.
Now that’s annoying,
Infuriating,
Disappointing,
They are the majority,
What use is democracy?
Mainstream madness,
Made its monarchy,
Popular beliefs circulate the society,
Ruling and conquering,
What’s left of the minority.
Clearly clergy is not really,
Talking, and taking overly enticing,
Talking and taking, speaking and mesmerizing,
I am caught up in the moment,
Caught up in the moment I fail to see,
Collision of worlds,
Of men with words,
Using mercenaries,
Machineries,
Destroying those to gain worthy,
The people cheer in oblivion,
Too busy to think,
In desire.
Self destructing,
Penetrating within,
Deeper and deeper,
The minds become cheaper and cheaper,
Polluted and wasted,
No longer needed,
Time is given,
Still nothing transpires,
The flute is blown,
“POOF” it disappears.
Closes his eyes and opens it,
The dark empty space or the current blues,
Isn’t there a different choice?
He knew closing his eyes is futility,
Temporary,
Elusive,
Closes his eyes and opens it,
But the black space changes into a white story,
Now he closes his eyes and opens it,
Momentary bliss comes with casualties.
Caught up in an Iraq,
A Somalia,
A Palestine,
A war one finds relief in a second of peace,
One man’s mind,
A universe of its own,
There is no saying what is and what is not,
For if you haven’t realized,
That, that is the epitome of man,
A man is either in open,
Or closed within his own,
With barricades all around him,
Surrounding him,
Enveloping him,
Which blinds him and ties him,
He talks in things, within his boundaries.
Now that’s annoying,
Infuriating,
Disappointing,
They are the majority,
What use is democracy?
Mainstream madness,
Made its monarchy,
Popular beliefs circulate the society,
Ruling and conquering,
What’s left of the minority.
Clearly clergy is not really,
Talking, and taking overly enticing,
Talking and taking, speaking and mesmerizing,
I am caught up in the moment,
Caught up in the moment I fail to see,
Collision of worlds,
Of men with words,
Using mercenaries,
Machineries,
Destroying those to gain worthy,
The people cheer in oblivion,
Too busy to think,
In desire.
Self destructing,
Penetrating within,
Deeper and deeper,
The minds become cheaper and cheaper,
Polluted and wasted,
No longer needed,
Time is given,
Still nothing transpires,
The flute is blown,
“POOF” it disappears.
Cotton Candice
NOTE: You got to watch the clip to get the whole thing, Thank you :O
Ahh! The sting so excruciating!
While it keeps on penetrating,
My rib cages are pressed together till it ruptures,
I breathe in with the pain, and begin to shatter,
The sensation so unreasonable that ironically,I felt alive
The air is stuck in my chest,
The breathing process is distressed,
So dark and pitch blacked,
like dark space and dark sea,
My white flag goes unnoticed.
I shout in cry for help,
My friends go by, unaware of my try,
My screaming is silent,
I slouch back in frustration
This tight spot, enveloping me so decisively,
(Unlike you, entirely indecisive),
On all sides and all angles,
No more ego, pride or arrogance,
Fear, so real, vivid and clear,
Right in front of my face it conquers them all
There is a weight in the chest,
An ache in the head,
I am lying on the ground,
Waiting for the sledge hammer to smash on me, again and again,
Despite the preparation, it impairs exponentially
Expiring and coming back, having so little power,
But feeling every ounce of everything that is out of control
In anguish I shout out and no one hears,
I feel myself explode,
I picture myself in this,
I am releasing it all,
I...am vomiting expression
