Tuesday, October 16, 2012

Payung Lutsinar

Take a deep breath and look outside to see the rain. Drenched. I guess this time of the year what more can you expect. Perhaps its just the cycle of year. Perhaps it's more than that. Regardless this is not the thing I wanted to talk about, but it made for a mellow intro. Ha ha.

Perception, illusion and assumption. All dangerous in their own way and with the now globalized world, these three words become more powerful than ever. With communication between a community a "click a way" (they say) we are becoming more and more distant even if it looks like we are closer now than then. If that made any sense at all then I am sure you might get what I will be trying to say. Ha ha.

Being a human being in this day and age especially as a generation that will steer the country forward we are no longer separated by six degrees.There seems to be pressure for everyone to be connected with one another. Although this can be seen as something positive where people are more united than ever but if the three words mention above becomes the cloud that surrounds us, it will be the crack in the armor of unity. (How cheesy is that?)

My decision not to be too involved in the technological advancement probably have separated me from many acquaintances but it has never come without reasons. People's perception of me does not bother me that much (meaning to say yes it bothers me) but don't let it be what defines me. This seems more and more like a rant. I guess it is.

Perhaps the rain has effected me more than I would admit it had.

Sunday, October 7, 2012


Most of the times when you think it is that obvious, it surely is.

Wednesday, October 3, 2012


Eyes blurry. Barely able to see what's happening. Everything is turning white. Am I dead? Again there was a loud shouting of "Clear!" with sounds of electricity charging. I was slowly beginning to regain consciousness. Slowly but surely the white background turns into shapes. Some shadows emerge.

Just when colors begin to fill up the surroundings, a white pasty hand swung across my face. Slap!

Allen: What the hell?
Maria: Good your up.

She starts slapping me again and again.

Maria: You son of a bitch! Wake up! You can't die now. Why are you doing this?
Allen: What the hell is wrong with you?

Tears falling from her face as she reduces the force of the slap eventually.

I have awoken onto a bed that seemed vaguely too familiar to be recognize as my own. Now attached to some kind of robotic device dripping down blood.

Allen: Okay fine I won't. I'm up. Stop yelling. Your voice is all nasally, it's annoying.
Maria: Asshole.
Allen: Well that was uncalled for.
Maria: Only assholes slit their wrists.
Allen: I thought it would be easier and melodramatic and stuff.
Maria: Fuck you.