tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31694346491801859792024-03-13T19:05:57.649-07:00Nijananda For MeThis blog is dedicated for all you friends who have passion to read or even better to write. Hopefully, we would tiptoe then stride our stairways together to nijananda: "true happiness" that I believe lay within ourselves in the Hands of Our Creator. Just write it down guys !!!!nijanandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11727098390367410506noreply@blogger.comBlogger15125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3169434649180185979.post-49409777978321584692010-07-04T00:47:00.000-07:002010-07-04T01:18:58.253-07:00Quotes Of The DayBe not angry that you cannot make others as you wish them to be, since you cannot make yourself as you wish to be<br />~ Thomas a Kempis ~<br /><br />You've got a lot of choices. If getting out of bed in the morning is a chore and you're not smiling on a regular basis, try another choice<br />~ Steven D. Woodhull ~<br /><br />What saves a man is to take a step. Then another step. It is always the same step, but you have to take it<br />~ Antoine de Saint-Exupéry ~<br /><br />Don't wait for the Last Judgment. It happens every day<br />~ Albert Camus ~<br /><br />In what you say of another, apply the test of kindness, necessity and truth, and let nothing pass your lips without a 2/3 majority<br />~ Liz Armbruster ~<br /><br />Give thanks for what you are now, and keep fighting for what you want to be tomorrow ~ Fernanda Miramontes-Landeros ~<br /><br />Too many people overvalue what they are not and undervalue what they are <br />~ Malcolm S. Forbes ~<br /><br />Sandwich every bit of criticism between two thick layers of praise <br />~ Mary Kay Ash ~<br /><br />There is often less danger in the things we fear than in the things we desire<br />~ John C. Collins ~nijanandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11727098390367410506noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3169434649180185979.post-47726274875244953162010-07-04T00:14:00.000-07:002010-07-04T00:21:07.657-07:00Birds Of Passage - Henry Wadsworth LongfellowBlack shadows fall<br />From the lindens tall,<br />That lift aloft their massive wall<br />Against the southern sky;<br /><br />And from the realms<br />Of the shadowy elms<br />A tide-like darkness overwhelms<br />The fields that round us lie.<br /><br />But the night is fair,<br />And everywhere<br />A warm, soft vapor fills the air,<br />And distant sounds seem near,<br /><br />And above, in the light<br />Of the star-lit night,<br />Swift birds of passage wing their flight<br />Through the dewy atmosphere.<br /><br />I hear the beat<br />Of their pinions fleet,<br />As from the land of snow and sleet<br />They seek a southern lea.<br /><br />I hear the cry<br />Of their voices high<br />Falling dreamily through the sky,<br />But their forms I cannot see.<br /><br />O, say not so!<br />Those sounds that flow<br />In murmurs of delight and woe<br />Come not from wings of birds.<br /><br />They are the throngs<br />Of the poet's songs,<br />Murmurs of pleasures, and pains, and wrongs,<br />The sound of winged words.<br /><br />This is the cry<br />Of souls, that high<br />On toiling, beating pinions, fly,<br />Seeking a warmer clime,<br /><br />From their distant flight<br />Through realms of light<br />It falls into our world of night,<br />With the murmuring sound of rhyme.nijanandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11727098390367410506noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3169434649180185979.post-85613928063877489622010-07-04T00:05:00.001-07:002010-07-04T00:05:43.691-07:00John Keats'<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; "><p align="center" style="font-family: Arial; "><span style="font-size:100%;">But this is human life: the war, the deeds,<br />The disappointment, the anxiety,<br />Imagination's struggles, far and nigh,<br />All human; bearing in themselves this good,<br />That they are still the air, the subtle food,<br />To make us feel existence, and to shew<br />How quiet death is.</span></p><p align="center" style="font-family: Arial; "><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;">from <i>Endymion, Book II</i>, l.153-159.</span></p><div style="text-align: -webkit-center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Arial, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div></span>nijanandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11727098390367410506noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3169434649180185979.post-14558585641279644472009-01-07T22:10:00.000-08:002009-01-07T22:11:25.129-08:00<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Lucida Sans Unicode'; font-size: 13px; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 1px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 1px; "><b><span style="font-size:100%;">Unsound Love</span></b><br /><br />I am a warrior princes, out with my blade<br />My king wanted me to win this battle<br />With cold strike I bluntly overtook<br />Here I am now staring a field of empty souls essence<br /><br />A blood smell breeze befogs my winking eyes<br />The malodorous vicinity comes to my awakening<br />Only filthy feelings composing this bitter heart<br />In the name of love I lead this war<br />What kind of love harvests so much pain<br /><br />Love, hate and war, I resent all<br />In the end they false you all<br />Cause mortals would always have flaws <br />Don't blaspheme with love, who are you to think that you can recite love?<br />Look at me now, stranded for love of my king<br /><br />Only now the shattered lives whisper to me<br />Have a good life, have a good faith<br />Love and hate are only for the naives</span>nijanandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11727098390367410506noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3169434649180185979.post-5543944677468155212008-12-22T07:13:00.000-08:002008-12-29T20:28:58.881-08:00Dum Spiro Spero<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Have you ever been so lost in darkness, that your sightseeing is only as far as one meter radiance? Or for worse, you can't see nothing at all except your fingers up closed to your eyes. That's how I see my path sometime. Confused by so many options, preferences, obligatory deals. And when I feel depressed, I tend to visit dreamland more often than my dream card suggests. My pillow is more appealing than reality. I read once that it's a sign of stress, despair and the psychology manifestation of avoiding reality. And do you want to know what kind of recurrent dream is on my top list of box office dreaming? Jumping high from roof to roof, like a Gin Kang master in kungfu film. Odd? Funny? No, believe me, it's again just another symptom of how I want to flee from my burden. However, there is one thing that extracts me back to real life, that is hope. People may say I wish too much, but it is hope that keep me alive. There is no too much in dreaming, hoping. Maybe someday I could really fly from roof to roof :p . Hope is a beautiful garnish on my spirit. Like they say in Latin, </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">"dum spiro spero", </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">while I breathe I hope.</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Go a distance and you'll see</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">This old scent savors the best in life</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Like a shadow yet shines on you</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">when all the friendly lights are gone</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Cherish your hope</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div>nijanandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11727098390367410506noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3169434649180185979.post-85090616351833699092008-11-22T04:31:00.000-08:002008-11-27T22:32:20.152-08:00A Little Treat of Pessimism<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">I've already heard about the coffee wise story. You know, about how we should live this world. A coffee bean when boiled would not crush so easily, instead, it would make a big change to the water, the water would smell good, smell of a coffee. The thing is we should make a difference that effects to our surroundings. </span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Well that's another story. Not so long ago, I find another wise way to live. Living is like steaming the rice on the stove. At first, set a big fire to soften the rice until the water ceasing then set a small fire to cook it well to the end of the process. That's how we get a nice steaming rice. When our age is on the starting point, we have to whip ourselves hard, setting our effort on fire. But when the days are half way our age, give it a break, slow our pace and start to think it over, count our blessing and our deeds, to reach within our soul. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;">Wow, that's deep. Which ever way of this life might go, maybe to me life is playing my kite, soaring to the blue blue sky. I can play hard but also smooth, surrendering to where the wind goes. And when the kite's thread is snapped, the only way is the ground. Then I fly another. Hehehehe, I wish it could be that simple, but it is actually simple if we want it that way. Frankly, this day I am still plundering my time thinking over and over all the virtue stories and hesitating to grab my own way. It's a long and winding road, and I'm still lingering on this cross road. </span><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">Here I am, standing all alone</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">On the barren land, on this cross road</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">The sun's on my head, the wind's playing with my hair</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">They cannot heal my solitude </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">Straight is my brain, stiff is my bone</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">On this ragged heart, I quote</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">Why do I let myself living in despair</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">I never believe that life is so rude</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">I even wrote this to life</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">Dear life,</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">Would you let me be your master</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">So, here I am again, standing all alone</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">Within dry air and quench killer</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">Yet, I linger</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">**</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">***</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div>nijanandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11727098390367410506noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3169434649180185979.post-80146991708054905782008-11-17T04:45:00.000-08:002008-11-17T05:17:15.685-08:00Pebbles<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">You are walking down the road, then suddenly some pebbles get into your shoes. Small maybe, but it's so uncomfortable to keep going to your destination without getting rid of the pebbles first. That's how sometimes we are distracted from our goals in life. Small pebbles are things such as killer teacher, school bullies, disloyal friends, tough neighborhood or broken family perhaps. But, hey ...If I look back now, I would say "It's a pity that I wasted my time grudging about those no need much worry pebbles and failed my destiny."</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">It's too late anyway, to rerun that episode of my life. At least now I understand and hopefully I would not have to take unnecessary turns anytime I encounter those small obstacles. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: webdings;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">Pebbles pebbles on the way</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: webdings;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">Don't you hustle into my way</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: webdings;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">This time I will survive</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: webdings;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">To make my life a big happy surprise </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: webdings; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: webdings; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">**</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: webdings; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">***</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div>nijanandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11727098390367410506noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3169434649180185979.post-90175265021720580602008-11-15T04:31:00.000-08:002008-11-16T21:41:35.785-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_slF-xBlVGtA/SR7PljNRa3I/AAAAAAAAAAs/wesi5j1uK6c/s1600-h/Kawah+Putih+0808+261edit.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_slF-xBlVGtA/SR7PljNRa3I/AAAAAAAAAAs/wesi5j1uK6c/s200/Kawah+Putih+0808+261edit.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268876858083076978" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br />I</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">t's a big day today. I made a pot luck date with some friends from high school years. It's amazing to see them again after years. I can see that there are changes but still I feel their used to be scent. It's always a warming surrounding being with the people from your past, don't you think so? A glimpse of memory, a touch of familiarity..... blending so sweet. Well, I assume they all agree that I am the one with the big changes. Hmm... I'm not so surprised when one of them greet me with, "Hey, you look different!" It's not the first time I hear this quotation from my long-time-no-see friends. Makes me wonder, am I really a big difference now, what did make me change radically? I haven't asked for others opinion but me myself would say that my life is so full of ups and downs, so many dark alleys yet so much luck for me to be grateful for. People changes hopefully for the better, but still the inner you would never cease. The essence that you were born with. All life changes would only be a beautiful garnish featuring our soul. Well, it's just a thought. Thank you for today, my friends ^_^</span><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">Friends are like stars, sometimes you can't see them but you always know that they are there in the sky </span></span></div>nijanandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11727098390367410506noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3169434649180185979.post-11944775623277783422008-11-13T18:44:00.000-08:002008-11-16T22:14:55.199-08:00A Journey<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">Writing is a journey to search within our soul. This sentence actually frightens me because it means that what we write would reveal the truth of what lies beneath this earthly being. What if I find myself shallow, unworthy at all. What if I'm lacking in virtues and full of craps (sorry). Still, I will write anyway. That's for my self-expression, soothing this lone heart and hoping for a feedback either positive or negative. I'm open arms though I must admit a critic would end up with a frown at my brow, thinking why ..o why ... I'm not much as a socialite here where I live. I rarely find anybody here who suits my appetite in talking. Call me picky or unfriendly but I couldn't stand wearing faces when I have to deal with so-not-me people. But somehow, I need to talk, I long to babble like this. So, I choose to write with this simple language of mine. Mind my english will you. I hope there's somebody out there would enjoy reading this manifestation of my ego. </span><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">My o my what a soul to seek</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">Can't you see that mind is full of tricks</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">The road is winding and the hills are steep</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">Must keep striving before I sleep</span></span></div>nijanandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11727098390367410506noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3169434649180185979.post-43309792157588304572008-11-13T04:29:00.000-08:002008-11-16T22:17:56.934-08:00Confidence<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">A three year old girl rode on a picnic with her daddy. Along the way, the car passed a goat, and she loudly and cheerfully said, "It's a doooooooog ....! ". Her daddy laughed, "Are you sure, dear? Actually it's a goat". Not loosing her confidence then she shout again when passing a cow, "It's a goooooooooat...........!" </span><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">How wonderful, the little one takes courage in expressing herself. She's not afraid of making mistakes. Often, we easily give up when things are not the way we want it. Our mistakes are shameful burden on the face. Why is that? It's a mistake, yes, and surely we should learn our lesson from it. Would it be helpful to regret things we've done wrong? Absolutely not. People live to fall and get up again. The good things would not represent the virtue if there are no bad things to compare. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">Keep a child's faith to step on the daily challenge. </span></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">The only time you mustn't fall is the last time you try</span></span> </div></div>nijanandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11727098390367410506noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3169434649180185979.post-65553084754747919852008-11-11T07:53:00.000-08:002008-11-16T22:23:26.335-08:00<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 1px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 1px; font-family:webdings;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Foolishly In Love</span></span></span><br /></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(75, 0, 130); font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 1px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 1px; font-family:'Book Antiqua';"><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br /></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-weight: normal; font-family:webdings;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">The world turns me into nothing so called pure</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br /></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:webdings;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">A mere blow of lips promise barely kept</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br /></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">I don't know where this road takes me but I try to be sure<br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">That I'm heading towards you with my own little step <br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Romance is just splash spot on a dim corner of love in a room called sacrifice <br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">When the fancy of lights offer you overwhelming paradise <br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">The carousel has long stopped, still my mind's on rounding rapid <br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Standing is the least I would do at this phase of a stupid <br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Kissing on a top of a mountain is just fantasy <br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Of both being foolish together<br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Sober would not come to you until it's over<br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Yeah you would notice it when heart shrinks to wee<br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">So, just live light our while-it-last love days <br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Who says that it's shameful being a fool<br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Never in love they are I must say<br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">So, babe, let's swim our way together in this heart filled pool </span><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">**</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">***</span></div></span></span></span></span>nijanandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11727098390367410506noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3169434649180185979.post-66194696911918128002008-11-11T07:06:00.000-08:002008-11-16T22:34:50.894-08:00<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 1px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 1px; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">When Love Meets Ego</span></span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"> </span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 1px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 1px; font-family:'Century Gothic';font-size:13px;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></span></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">What would it be, when mind goes numb <br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">The beating heart races velocity <br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">My love is nothing but a dumb<br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Triggers passion towards cruelty <br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">I know it's wrong<br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">to let this one goes so strong<br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">what can i say <br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">This ego insists to stay</span></span></span><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: georgia; font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-style: italic;font-size:16px;">**</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-style: italic;font-size:16px;">***</span></div></span></span>nijanandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11727098390367410506noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3169434649180185979.post-18408059257185283682008-11-11T06:50:00.000-08:002008-11-16T23:03:10.693-08:00<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 1px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 1px; font-family:webdings;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">An Ode For A Shattered Heart</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 1px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 1px; font-family:'Century Gothic';font-size:13px;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:webdings;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-style: italic; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">See the bubbles floating wiggling through the naughty breeze</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">how fun how light how teasing </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">elude me on this humble earth<br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">stranded on the brisk of the green green grass<br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">What a delight surroundings I could not help my heart appease<br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">cheerie laughter birds chirping <br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">o so please seize me in this mirth<br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">grounded until my soul go blast<br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">You may say my head's gone into a twist<br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">To lay here while you are leaving<br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">It seems to you this heart not hurt<br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Don't you grasp your words of thrust<br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Desert me here in my mind's seeking for peace<br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Resite no more of this worldly foolish joy dreaming<br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Let me relish solemn pieces of a heart's dirt<br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">In this nature bear me forget the past</span><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px;">**</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px;">***</span></div></span></span></span></span>nijanandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11727098390367410506noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3169434649180185979.post-23985089877360827982008-11-11T06:42:00.000-08:002008-11-17T00:12:29.360-08:00<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-style: italic; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 1px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 1px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:webdings;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">A Night At A Snowy Lake</span></span></span></span></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-style: italic; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 1px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 1px; font-family:'Book Antiqua';font-size:18px;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:webdings;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:webdings;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I stoop by the lake</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:webdings;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">even in this late</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:webdings;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I am still awake<br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:webdings;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:webdings;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Love is not easy to make<br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:webdings;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">To nowhere it will take<br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:webdings;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">If I give my heart's fake</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:webdings;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:webdings;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">O dear wind and snow flake<br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:webdings;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">why does my heart break<br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:webdings;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Until now it still ache </span></span></span><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: webdings; font-size: 16px;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: webdings; font-size: 16px;">**</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: webdings; font-size: 16px;">***</span></div></span>nijanandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11727098390367410506noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3169434649180185979.post-29286693640776643102008-11-07T01:39:00.000-08:002008-11-17T04:44:17.093-08:00Persistence<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">The notorious Bali bombers, what about them. It was "a green mile" time for the mass killer, guilty as charged. The count down, most people would consider it as a depressing moment in facing death sentence. But not for the true believer of the so called religion knights, they looked light-hearted if cheerful sounded too awkward. The image of heaven and the pretty angels waiting probably was the only thing they tried to focus on. Well, maybe they are now enjoying their moment there .... or not .... we never know.</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">Silly? For some maybe; but, against all odds, I admire their strong will in comprehending, persisting and living their dream. How many of us put together the pieces of our days, constructing the pathway of our kind of life. Me, myself, is way ahead of my juvenile years yet my faith is still a baby I guess. I wonder what Luthfiana Ulfa's thinking when she agreed to be the wife of her-father-age man. A destiny, a devotion, a surrender, a serendipity, or just teenage blunt way of surrealism. Anyway, maybe it's about dedication, willingness, strong faith and living this world in the way we think is right. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">Everything in this universe could be right in a way. Perspective is the answer. What matters is to grow the best way of thinking, set a good mind and walk the most dignity. Still, it's not ourself to judge, but the eyes of this queer world.</span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">Life for some is a pot luck<br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">Waiting for something to come up<br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">Might be good, might be something I love<br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">Might be bad, might be something I hate<br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">Yet, there are masterminds of life<br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">Shaping, molding, creating their own path<br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">It must be good, own way<br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">It could be bad, own mess<br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>nijanandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11727098390367410506noreply@blogger.com2