element of violence
There is an element of violence in most of us that has never been resolved, never been wiped away, so that we can live totally without violence. Not being able to be free of violence we have created the idea of its opposite, non-violence. Non-violence is non-fact. Violence is a fact. Non-violence does not exist, except as an idea. What exists, “what is,” is violence. It is like those people in India who say they worship the idea of non-violence, they preach about it, talk about it, copy it – they are dealing with a non-fact, non-reality, with an illusion. What is a fact is violence, major or minor, but violence. When you pursue non-violence, which is an illusion, which is not an actuality, you are cultivating time. That is, “I am violent, but I will be non-violent.” The “I will be” is time, which is the future, a future that has no reality; it is invented by thought as an opposite of violence. It is the postponement of violence that creates time. If there is an understanding and so the ending of violence, there is no psychological time.
Excerpts from: “The Flame of Attention” by J. Krishnamurti
older and colder
Day after day, love turns grey
Like the skin of a dying man
Night after night, we pretend it’s all right
But I have grown older and
You have grown colder and
Nothing is very much fun any more.
What?
Jules: What does Marcellus Wallace look like?
Brett: What?
Jules: What country you from?
Brett: What?
Jules: What ain’t no country I ever heard of! They speak English in What?
Brett: What?
Jules: ENGLISH, MOTHERFUCKER! DO-YOU-SPEAK-IT?
Brett: Yes!
Jules: Then you know what I’m saying!
Brett: Yes!
Jules: Describe what Marcellus Wallace looks like!
Brett: What, I-?
Jules: [pointing his gun] Say what again. SAY WHAT AGAIN. I dare you, I double dare you, motherfucker. Say what one more goddamn time.
Brett: He’s b-b-black…
Jules: Go on.
Brett: He’s bald…
Jules: Does he look like a bitch?
Brett: What?
Jules: [Jules shoots Brett in shoulder] DOES HE LOOK LIKE A BITCH?
Brett: No!
Jules: Then why you try to fuck him like a bitch, Brett?
Brett: I didn’t.
Jules: Yes you did. Yes you did, Brett. You tried to fuck him. And Marcellus Wallace don’t like to be fucked by anybody, except Mrs. Wallace.
pulp fiction, quentin tarantino
and sometimes…
And he still gives his love, he just gives it away
The love he receives is the love that is saved
And sometimes is seen a strange spot in the sky
A human being that was given to fly
ngelmu iku…
ngelmu iku kalakone kanti laku
lekase lawan kas tegese kas nyantosani
setya budya pangekese dur angkara
sakit lalu mati
setelah sekian lama sakit, seorang teman mati kemarin. pria gelisah dan tangan terkepal meninju langit, sakit lalu mati.
adaptation
what’s so wonderful is that every one of these flowers has a specific relationship with the insect that pollinates it. There’s a certain orchid look exactly like a certain insect so the insect is drawn to this flower, its double, its soul mate, and wants nothing more than to make love to it. And after the insect flies off, spots another soul-mate flower and makes love to it, thus pollinating it. And neither the flower nor the insect will ever understand the significance of their lovemaking. I mean, how could they know that because of their little dance the world lives? But it does. By simply doing what they’re designed to do, something large and magnificent happens. In this sense they show us how to live – how the only barometer you have is your heart. How, when you spot your flower, you can’t let anything get in your way.
adaptation,movies.
sepotong lirik lagu queen
under pressure.
………..It’s the terror of knowing
What this world is about
Watching some good friends
Screaming ‘Let me out’
Pray tomorrow – gets me higher high high
Pressure on people – people on streets
Turned away from it all like a blind man
Sat on a fence but it don’t work
Keep coming up with love
but it’s so slashed and torn
Why – why – why ?
Love love love love love
Insanity laughs under pressure we’re cracking
Can’t we give ourselves one more chance
Why can’t we give love that one more chance
Why can’t we give love give love give love give love
give love give love give love give love give love
‘Cause love’s such an old fashioned word
And love dares you to care for
The people on the edge of the night
And loves dares you to change our way of
Caring about ourselves
This is our last dance
This is our last dance
This is ourselves
Under pressure
Under pressure
Pressure
tak guna
Setelah posting takut saya jadi termangu*1 mengapa kata tak guna dan tidak berguna muncul. Perlahan dapat terlihat*2 karena ada perbandingan antara apa yang dianggap berguna dan disisi lain apa yang dianggap tidak berguna*3.
Klise ya. 
*1 Mobius Strip
*2 Ouroboros
takut
Di sebuah resto hotel lewat tengah malam mengurai kata magis spiritual dengan banyak koma tanpa titik antara hisapan rokok seruput minum berusaha mengejar berlari satu kata aku tahu apa yang kau bicarakan.
Menutup mata ada beda walau selalu ku bilang cara kita berlainan.
Karena berbeda mengapa menuntut untuk sama.
Silahkan berjalan sendirian tanpa kawan akrabi semua apa yang ada, tidak mewah memang karena tiada guru untuk berlindung dan kemampuan adikodrati.
Tidak hebat sungguh untuk jujur menerima diri.
Bila takut yang kau takuti apa guna semua kemampuan kekanak-kanakan bertahun-tahun kau tumpuk untuk merasa berbeda.
Dangkal tak guna membuat topeng tebal ‘aku berbeda aku hebat’
