AKU, MEREKA DAN DUNIA: me, them, and the world

Tuesday, March 20, 2007

me, them, and the world

1.
tukang jualan kupat tahu di depan warnet tempat saya biasa datengin, kemaren cerita, gedung yang biasa dia dia pake halamannya untuk jualan ternyata direnovasi jadi sebuah gerai provider celuler. dia otomatis diharuskan pindah dari situ, "mau kemana lagi mas? belasan taun saya disini.." ujarnya.

2.
walau polemik PP. 37 terus berlanjut, tapi beberapa daerah tidak perduli dan tetap membagikan uang tunjangan tersebut pada anggota DPRD nya.

3.
DPRD lokal/kabupaten? hm.. coba kalian perhatikan seksama apa SEBENARNYA kerja mereka dan apa yang mereka LAKUKAN di lapangan..

4.
nuwanda melakukan penyangkalan masa lalu, menganggap wanita itu mati saja..

1 comment:

RaiNMaiDeN said...: masih kiw?? hahaha...wanita yang mana nih...hehehehehe; 4:01 PM

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God Speed Insomnia

We have cried — and the gods are silent;

We hve trusted — and been betrayed;

We have loved — and the fruit was ashes;

We have given — the gift was weighed.

We know that the heavens are empty,

That friendship and lvoe are names;

That truth is an ashen cinder,

The end of life’s burnt-out flames.

Vainly and long we have waited,

Through the night of the human roar,

For a single song on the harp of Hope,

Or a ray from a day-lit shore.

Songs aye come floating, marvelous sweet,

And bow-dyed flashes gleam;

But the sweets are Lies, and the weary feet

Run after a marsh-light beam.

In the hour of our need the song departs,

And the sea-moans of sorrow swell;

The siren mocks with a gurgling laugh

That is drowned in the deep death-knell.

The light we chased with our stumbling feet

As the goals of happier years,

Swings high and low and vanishes —

The bow-dyes were of our tears.

God is a lie, and Faith is a lie,

And a tenfold lie is Love;

Life is a problem without a why,

And never a thing to prove.

it adds, and subtracts, and multiplies,

And divides without aim or end;

Its answers all false, though false-named true —

Wife, husband, lover, friend.

We know it now, and we care no more;

What matters life or death?

We tiny insects emerge from earth,

Suffer, and yield our breath.

Like ants we crawl on our brief snd-hill,

Dreaming of “mighty things” —

Lo, they crunch, like shells in the ocean’s werath,

In the rush of Time’s awful wings.

The sun smiles gold, and the plants white,

And a billion stars smile, still;

Yet, fierce as we, each wheels toward eath,

And cannot stay his will.

The build, ye fools, your mighty things,

That time shall set at naught;

Grow warm with the song the sweet Lie sings,

And the false bow your tears have wrought.

For us, a truce to Gods, loves, and hopes,

And a pledge to fire and wave;

A swifter whirl to the dance of death,

And a loud huzza for the Grave!