You’re on earth, dang it!

It’s not easy to live, you think? Yesterday a student in my Drama class saw me after the class. That day we discussed The Bald Soprano and Absurdism. Mechanical language, puppet-like characters, “plotless” ness… Then that student asked, how meaninglessness in Absurdism is different from that of Nihilism. The answer shouldn’t have been too complex.

Besides that there’s no such movement as Nihilism in the theatre history (well, none that I know of! Ha!), I should take a look at myself – the whole thing about ‘it’. One’s accessories are extension of herself. Respectively, Absurdism is me. One is stuck, floating, lost… but one manages to journey on without whimpering too much. How funny is unhappiness – that kind of thing. Longing, longing, waiting, probably until the end.

But things do get terribly ugly sometimes. And when you’re alone and lonely, darkness becomes you way too easily. You’re alone but you’re not alone. Unluckily, you’re lucky. You distrust life as much you distrust hell. Oh well. You’re still here, aren’t you? Are you gonna lie that good things don’t happen to you? Although, perhaps, they don’t stop bad things to happen either.

Whatever. I’m still around to watch MU vs. Aston Villa tonight. Oh, how worrying!

theatre of the absurd – 2

two stupid women in a stupid conversation on a bike
one with breasts hard from breast-feeding,
the other with newspaper headlines stuffed in her bra
you know the problem with you is that you know too much
the one in pain tells the other one
who instantly remembers Jack, who
was born when he was fourteen

she chews her bubble gum wrapper,
feeling ticklish in her upper-middle part,
but suddenly remembers where her lost pen really is
all I care is to be with money
to travel to Alaska and eat those poison weeds
but i don’t know where I am going
she doesn’t know where she’s headed

she needs to be with her baby soon but
the other one wants to touch her alien baby,
to rip up the agony of maternity and mommy-hood
it’s all insane, when one cannot even buy gasoline,
she’s barely, barely chronometrable!
the problem with you is your clogged ears
one says to the other (don’t matter which)
the brain should be minced well
the head should tilt, equally well

if they’re lucky, the next thing that’ll come in their way
is a cargo truck full of Christmas presents
if anything happens to their heads,
like brain knockout or sumthin,
they’ll be on the track to happyness

stupid is pretty clever these days
(meanwhile, they’re wet, sticky, and smell like

theatre of the absurd – 1

the rain is still falling
the old house is crying
year after year
idiots don’t read signs

but I am looking at your children’s faces
small as they are, how thin and blank
I’m trying not to be bothered by their
stinking unhappiness

next agenda of this global warming thing:
spreading the rumor of your misbehavior
of your not learning anything from the
damaged, puddled road
how it ended your husband’s life
of what has made your stinking children

at tea time, they chat leisurely and
drink cups of rainwater
their faces yellowing
the vegetables on absinthe
forget, forgot, forgotten

When the devils went wrong(ed)…


Wanna blame the painful defeat on the ref? Isn’t he an easy target? Sure. But it should have been anticipated. Portsmouth had players with better stamina, well after MU’s tough win over Lyon in the Champion league last time. Fergie should have kept Ronaldo on the bench. Another undeniable fact: What do Rooney, Tevez, and Nani have in common? Sorry, but dwarfish frontliners against those African giraffes? The ref was not 100% sinful.

Still. I heart the red devils. [Pic shows Evra, Tevez, VIDIC, and Ronaldo]

Good to be me (?)

Yesterday was a decent day. I hung out with two girl friends – they’re sisters, and we started off our day by having a hair spa in a beauty salon near the campus. I got massaged on my head down to the back of my neck, back, and arms. And they “ozoned” my hair at the end of the process. It felt so good for a moment I had nothing to complain about being a woman. I trimmed my hair a little bit – that and the spa all cost me a little over Rp. 100,000.00. Don’t get alarmed. That’s just about US$ 11.00. Feeling like models (and starving!), all three of us were ready to entertain our hedonistic drive further. We took a cab and we hit Amplaz – the biggest shopping mall in town. We ate Japanese in Tora Bistro. I was ecstatic to find that there’s a place that sells sushi in J-town! And here’s what I wrote on the napkin just minutes before I left:

The soup is supposed to be served before the main course. That’s why it’s called appetizer. Why the hell did you serve it together with my California rolls?? Sushi is not supposed to be salty. The soy sauce is already salty. And green tea is not supposed to go with sugar. What were you thinking? Grrrrrrrr!!!

I expected too much maybe. I was a bit nostalgic, indeed… trying to compare that place with the one I last visited in Lawrence with Gi and Brian. But with the price I got to pay, I had the right to complain. Next, we went to Starbucks – in the name of the past, because honestly I hate the idea of circulating my money to giant capitalists. (Oh, look who’s talking!)

We then went to some shore stores because one of the sisters wanted to buy herself a pair of flats. It took us about half dozen stores, before she finally found her match. She tried them on, was happy about them…. only to find, in a brief moment after she put on a big smile on her face, the shop assistant saying, apologetically, that “So sorry but those shoes were pre-ordered by someone else…” So why the hell did you let me try them on in the first place? Idiota! We left after giving her some lesson. Grrrrrrr….. Anyways, it’s hard to say that we didn’t have a good time.

Then, last night. MU beat Fulham by 3 – 0. That was pretty decent. And when an ex-bf of mine (finally) wrote a happy-belated-birthday message on my Facebook wall, I couldn’t help being flattered knowing that I, somehow, still meant something in his busy life. We never had a change to get to know each other better than the fact that my choice of words was often too sophisticated for him (what a smartass I was!) and a suspicion on my part that his photography hobby was his MO to knock girls out (what a complete idiot I was!) He is by all definitions not Mr. Commitment, yet he is an epitome of secret lover any woman wishes to have. Mouth-watering delicious, yet unhealthy after a few intakes. 😉 No matter what he did in the past (or didn’t do), his message sufficiently added colors to my days.

The song below – Sang Penghibur (The Entertainer) by Padi – is a decent one too.