4/16/2004
Fuckin' da tHICK LArd

My mom's fuckin' stressed out and I'm so fuckin' stressed out because my mom's fuckin' stressed out that I wanna FUCKIN'  SCREE EEEAAAAA MMMM!!!!! FUCK YOU ALL!!!

-thank you.

.
.
.

Perspective.

My mom's running for DPR. More or less that's Indonesia's equivalent of Congress, for all you non-Indonesian readers reading this (yeah, both of you:). Her party hasn't received enough votes to earn a seat in her region, that means that its becoming more and more unlikely that she will ever work in Senayan. She doesn't say explicitly that she's disappointed or sad or anything, in fact she smiles and talks a lot, but her aura of disappointment is so fuckin' thick that it chokes my very being. Added by the fact that she acts so happy. Its like ESR's theory of Luxury of Ignorance: its a sin to be so fuckin complicated not despite of a pretty GUI, but BECAUSE of the pretty GUI. When you're gonna fuckin kill the party, please at least be frank about it, you know. I love you mom, I honestly do but sometimes -- despite of all the freedom that you've given me -- you fuckin' choke me to death. Shit.

Must gain logic. Must achieve balance. Must calm down.

This kinda reminds me of PsyWar. Doesn't it? I mean there's never any physical or verbal argument. No visible nor audible clashes of opinion. But its all in my mind. And come to think of it, noones actually fighting. Its just me getting sad because mom's sad, me getting angry because mom's angry. Me getting crazy because mom's getting crazy.

Only thing I can do is pray, pray that she prays, and that God gives her peace, and/or whatever he deems she needs, for her prayers. I always thought that she's the one closer to Him, but of course I should remember that doesn't make her superhuman. She's always relied on God for her troubles, and it has carried her in her career of servitude of Him. I've tend to always had faith in her, because I have faith in Him, at least His existence and wrath and justice. My mom's just going through tough times. She'll be fine. I'll be fine.

Oh, back to PsyWar:), short for Psychological Warfare. Its the act of conflict where the primary tools of aggression are the creation and modification of the psycho-social environments among which the combatants reside. At least by my definition. I just had a thought, you know, like, I once read about the side effects of PsyWar tactics in advertising and how the ubiquity of media (that is how its very hard for us to find a moment of peace when we're not at least passively and unintentionally listening to a radio or watching a TV or have a billboard/poster/pamphlet shoved down our throat and into our face, or the other way around vice versa), and how it has made it very hard for the common human to have an original thought where decision processes resulting in the person's opinion is solely his/her own. Mindfuck, using AdBuster's terminology.

You know something, Bob James plays nice jazz...
Oh, oh, and listen to Norah Jones man! With the Charlie Huter Quartet! Damn... So, sooo smooth...

Whatever, thank you for listening to my rant. Oh, and excuse my french:)

Postscript: I just talked to my mom, she seems much better. She was just kinda dizzy this morning. Thank god:)


More Than This
Charlie Hunter Quartet feat. Norah Jones
from "Songs From the Analog Playground"
Written by Bryan Ferry
2001

I could feel at the time
There was no way of knowing
Fallen leaves in the night
Who can say where they´re blowing
As free as the wind
And hopefully learning
Why the sea on the tide
Has no way of turning

More than this
There is nothing
Oh more than this
You tell me one thing
More than this
You know there's nothing
It was fun for a while
There was no way of knowing
Like a dream in the night
Who can say where we´re going
No care in the world
And maybe I´m learning
Why the sea on the tide
It has no way of turning

More than this
You know there is nothing
Oh more than this
You tell me one thing
More than this
There is nothing
Nothing

More than this
You know there is nothing
Much more than this
You tell me one thing
More than this
There is nothing
More than...


Posted at 12:46:29 pm by ferdikom98

star*
April 12, 2005   11:51 PM PDT
 
i feel like i need help to help my mom. i feel so bad because we, her daughters, make her feel that way. sometimes i just want to cry and scream and tell her everythings fine damnit! i dont know if shes doing this to hurt me. aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa
 

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I don't write intellectually. I write expressively. I don't claim to be accurate, fair or thorough. I don't wanna get stuck on certain topics. Though I sometimes do. But not that often. I'd like to expand. I wanna write more poems. But I'll only upload them if they're good. I only rant about my life's hardships if it will rescue just a little bit of my sanity. I'm saner than I make myself out to be, though.

If I am an OS kernel, and I just had a kernel dump, I'd imagine that the text in this blog is what it would more or less look like.

There. Do you get it?

   

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