ALIEN LANDSCAPE
Author : NHJ
MSN: crescent_cage@hotmail.com
email : spherickey@gmail.com
Other Blogsites
MRH
Yeoks
Airina
Iskandar
PostSecret
echoncyllan
Before Gargoyle
One Million Footnotes
Read My Poetry.
Playing:
Between the Bars (Elliott Smith Cover) by Metric
Sunday, June 25, 2006
Sir Snik
i named him Sir Snik.
lately, especially because i've been accumulating pains like fat black paper stars in those shiny glass bottles, the flashes come more frequently. most of them are of malicious beings who make my eyes fly open quickly and my mouth muttering and pleading God for forgiveness. some of them are beautiful, but only as beautiful as deadly sirens and evil queen witches in fairytales where ugly only means black robes and bad make up.
Sir Snik appeared briefly; a bald old man bending over a metal book which he was writing on earnestly with a metal pen in clicks and ticks. he was dressed like an 18th century english gentleman and may or may not be a cyborg. there was only him in an endless room of blank white. could he be my ever elusive muse, storing away years of creative work?
so he created the Satyrans? he manipulated my attraction to Susan Lee? is he the engineer of the screaming horrors flashing in my head? this old fool is behind my transformation from a thinking being to a complaisant trend follower?
there was also a book i read which scared me quite badly called Scissorman. just typing his name gives me the chills. he is a nightmare from childhood nursery rhymes who is brought alive by an imaginative failure of a writer. Scissorman is a psychotic, amoral Edward Scissorhands. he carves bodies artfully in a blur of bloody metal. he is elegant and kisses the hands of maidens, young and old.
there are plenty of things to be afraid of in this world, like Scissorman. he may be a figment but what most people don't (or don't want to) understand is that he is as real as you and i. the difference between him and the rest of us is that he is invulnerable. he kills, corrupts and paralyzes minds. i see him even more clearly than i see my own reflection in the mirror.
he whispers evil into my ears which slowly evolves and disguises itself as my own thoughts. it sows the seeds of self hatred and fear. and now i'm sounding as cliched as bad lyrics from a black metal band.
but it's true. Scissorman is out there. why, he might even be my old Sir Snik. everything about him reeks of metal except his english clothes.
he might be disguising himself as the Satyrans or Kathlen's one-winged handsome knight, a creature of Andersen's . only when i woke up one morning with black bloody thoughts coming unbidden do i realise, he might be me.
Posted by NHJ 6/25/2006 12:22:00 am
Monday, June 19, 2006
i want to be this way forever!
a little girl with a smile on her face, a spring in her steps and light in her heart.
Posted by NHJ 6/19/2006 07:50:00 pm
Tuesday, June 13, 2006
dreams. inconsistent angel things.
it was just a dream. i forced myself back to slumber at least three times between 8 to 11am to return. but i am coarse earth-matter. they are ethereal dream things. still, i was so happy. all i want is to see once more, touch and lull them in urgent whispers of how i love and pine for them like i do no other on this plane.
primitive like the rest of my crude kind, i courted uselessly and needlessly. seduced. coaxed. enticed. charmed. then evaded with flair. all i had to do was show. let my boldness and blatant nature be the evidence of my sad obsession.
our lifetimes may last at least 50 years with the advancement of science. but dreams. they dissipate in hours, minutes, seconds, moments. i should've known. i should've shouted it and embraced them like i never could in this life before all cease to exist.
get a life you'd say. yeah. i'll bet another weekend of soda-guzzling and passive smoking will land me in a higher state of self esteem. little people with little respect for dreams. the unconscious plane holds as much power as the waking world. what do you know? do you dream like i do? do you lie to yourself like i do?
you know nothing. you think what your eyes see is everything there is. it is what your mind sees that measures what you know. your eyes are only a matter of reference.
oh what am i going on about. there is much to do tomorrow. i must retire. enough of this self indulgence.
Posted by NHJ 6/13/2006 01:51:00 am
Monday, June 12, 2006
"...anyhow, i was rapturous. intoxicated with unexplainable joy. maybe it's the night air. maybe it's the speed. maybe it's just being among people i love.
suddenly she snuck up and smacked my back. Hidayah, who're you talking to? ...and why are you grinning like that?"
Posted by NHJ 6/12/2006 07:36:00 pm
Saturday, June 10, 2006
happy 20th birthday, Wahyu Hidayat!
would've wished you in a more direct manner but i lost your number and people i asked for your number just plain refused to assist in anyway. i don't even want to think about the implications of that. i've yet to learn to differentiate between friends and otherwise.
i think the reason why i haven't forgotten you even after so long is because you're my first true friend; someone who i felt i could count on. and who better to know about that more than you?
but anyway, here i am publishing my birthday wishes for you online, which i feel is pretty pathetic. i still hope one day you'd know i regard you as one of the best friends i ever had, despite spending so little time together. thanks for everything!
stay a hero at heart.
you'll always be on my mind, DL!
Posted by NHJ 6/10/2006 07:50:00 pm
Monday, June 05, 2006
Akiane
Akiane is one of the most wonderful things to have happen on Earth. at the age of 8, she has already created art which i can never even dream of making all my life and written poetry which i know requires brilliance and honesty of mind and a pure heart. words which some of us spend a lifetime to write.
she is one of my biggest inspirations and represents the best of humanity.
"Akiane is a literary phenomenon in the history of poetic art. I doubt there has ever been a literary child genius of such maturity, lyrical virtuosity, and spiritual transcendence! Her rare gift will be engraved for ever in the history pages of the world’s literature. I see the cosmic hope and meaning of life in her wisdom-saturated imagery." -Vladislovas Blintrubas
Posted by NHJ 6/05/2006 03:49:00 pm
