Sunday afternoon, rain in Paris. I invited you - my lover - playing with the kind of game that I wanted. Pretending to die. It was easy to do:
- I asked you to read the holy book
- I put my body, lengthwise on the couch
- Immovable and held breath
- Folded both hands on my stomach, right above the left
- Closed up both legs straight and parallel
- Closed my eyelids
- Focused my thoughts to I - am - living - the - future - life
Ok. Now it looks as I'm sleeping, isn't it?
At first you agreed with the situation. You continued to read the prayer, its chanting sounded very solemn. But, because I'd been motionless while closing my eyes, finally you began to suspect this game. You closed the pages of the holy book, put it on a small table near the couch, then came closer to me. "Honey,..." your voice sounded softly, very faint. I pretended not to hear you. "Honey,..." you whispered, your face was getting closer to mine. But I didn't give you any reaction. Then your fingers checked the flow of breath under my nose. It did not work, because I was holding my breath like a hand-picked diver. (Really, at the time I admitted that it's a bit hard to do).
You started to shake my shoulders. There was an anxiety in your voice, "Honey, what the hell is this? Wake up honey, please wake up!" you patted my cheek repeatedly. It got so bad, you just found some of my tears dropped there, on my cheeks. Ops! I hate them. My tears, yes, they were sometimes rather too far. They didn't know the right time to trickle.
Then you wiped it with your fingers. (You certainly didn't understand the cause, but it was probably enough to make you feel relieved, because the dead didn't cry). Ok, I thought time was up! Suddenly I opened my eyes, cried and laughed aloud. "Baaa!..." I was so excited because I could fool your views. You stunned with the expression of rainbow-colored face. A rainbow that was too much its Red color than the Orange - Yellow - Green - Blue - Indigo - Violet colors: ROYGBIV colors!.
Then you smiled, slightly and briefly. Soon you scolded me, "You! Don't ever play like that anymore, ..aaah! I do not want it, is not funny at all, tu vois?" you said with a frown face. It was a strong willingness, but sounded so soft as soft as the violet of a rainbow after rain. I pretended to smile.
***
(LA- 14 Avril 2011)
- I asked you to read the holy book
- I put my body, lengthwise on the couch
- Immovable and held breath
- Folded both hands on my stomach, right above the left
- Closed up both legs straight and parallel
- Closed my eyelids
- Focused my thoughts to I - am - living - the - future - life
Ok. Now it looks as I'm sleeping, isn't it?
At first you agreed with the situation. You continued to read the prayer, its chanting sounded very solemn. But, because I'd been motionless while closing my eyes, finally you began to suspect this game. You closed the pages of the holy book, put it on a small table near the couch, then came closer to me. "Honey,..." your voice sounded softly, very faint. I pretended not to hear you. "Honey,..." you whispered, your face was getting closer to mine. But I didn't give you any reaction. Then your fingers checked the flow of breath under my nose. It did not work, because I was holding my breath like a hand-picked diver. (Really, at the time I admitted that it's a bit hard to do).
You started to shake my shoulders. There was an anxiety in your voice, "Honey, what the hell is this? Wake up honey, please wake up!" you patted my cheek repeatedly. It got so bad, you just found some of my tears dropped there, on my cheeks. Ops! I hate them. My tears, yes, they were sometimes rather too far. They didn't know the right time to trickle.
Then you wiped it with your fingers. (You certainly didn't understand the cause, but it was probably enough to make you feel relieved, because the dead didn't cry). Ok, I thought time was up! Suddenly I opened my eyes, cried and laughed aloud. "Baaa!..." I was so excited because I could fool your views. You stunned with the expression of rainbow-colored face. A rainbow that was too much its Red color than the Orange - Yellow - Green - Blue - Indigo - Violet colors: ROYGBIV colors!.
Then you smiled, slightly and briefly. Soon you scolded me, "You! Don't ever play like that anymore, ..aaah! I do not want it, is not funny at all, tu vois?" you said with a frown face. It was a strong willingness, but sounded so soft as soft as the violet of a rainbow after rain. I pretended to smile.
***
(LA- 14 Avril 2011)
Jan Pepijn Servaas: Do you need an idea, swetie? Remember, not all desire is an idea, cause it is the result of reflection and thought. In connection with the creative work, it is commonly called "inspiration". So, you should avoid the term of inspiration for a while, because what is called inspiration often linked with the gift of God. As a result, many people are fooled and then just wait to get it. In fact, everything in this world is God's gift. What is mentioned with the idea here is the result of reflection and contemplation, even maybe the discussion and sharing of thoughts, both with yourself, others or understanding of another truth.
Cisca Zarmansyah: There's something new, Jan, ... something different from the existing known. That's what caused me to give birth, declared, so it's known by others. About good or bad, useful or not, it really depends on its collision with the surrounding, after it was born as the role.
Almira Izzati: olala Cutie pie, ... what did you write? your tears?
Almira Izzati:... ahaa! i guess i know what and who has inspired you.... lol....too real is this feeling of make believe ... ow yes i'm the great pretender... hu uh huu
Pranay Suresh: A story doesn't always have to walk straight and orderly, dude. It can be random, even entirely without rules or chaotic, so that (almost) it's not the story but only scenes. There is also "talk story", and it makes an idea into the portrait or representation of life. But there also stories that "do not speak". That's the thought, attitude and self concept formulations that contain the values used in dealing with the phenomena of a new life. I can feel hers.
Fairuz Azalia:
C, this is simple but very touching. I can see a rainbow of philosophy curved beautifully in your heart and mind.Valentino Vie: My "wife", if I die,... will you miss me?
Cisca Zarmansyah: Why do I have to do that? ehhehe... dahling, you have not changed a bit. Who would believe that you're wooing me?
Valentino Vie: No one. Don't believe me! haha
Cisca Zarmansyah: nino!!!!dahling!!!!you!!!!!!!are!!!!!selfish!!!do!!!!!not!!!!!you!!!! think!!!that!!!!the!!!!!!!death!!!!is!!!!!!!!!not!!!just!!!!!for !!!!!you!!!?!!!!!!whowaaa....
Valentino Vie:
hahahahaaaha... so, could it mean that you are willing to die with me? Cisca Zarmansyah Go die first, dahling. Then ask yourself, "Am I going to miss you?"
Jan Pepijn Servaas: Don't forget, dude. There's necessity of time, place, characters, conflict and so forth. There also will be technical issues that may be encountered in its implementation, so she must think her way out. For value formulas, it requires sharply evocative statement. I think it should often smelled of rebellion and renewal,...for more bite!
Adriaan Zef: What is the moral message of your writing, hon? Is it the effort to perform "mental terror"? Such attempts to interfere? Awaken? Remember? Disquiet? Tempting? Inner terrorize the reader? Or what? For what? Awaken the reader? Intrigued? And makes the readers think again after waking for a moment of sleep?
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