...waktu adalah detak jantung kita sendiri

inilah arti banyak dari satu kata laknat
inilah halte kehidupan.
konstanta peradaban.
partikel sebuah perjalanan;
semua tumbuh sendiri
semua rusak sendiri,
untuk akhirnya mati.
( dan Waktu mengalir di situ)

panggil saja aku :
perempuan kekasih Waktu!

<< February 2010 >>
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Time is three things for most people, but for you, for us, just one.
A singularity. One moment.
This moment. Like you're the center of the clock, the axis on which the hands turn.
Time moves about you but never moves you.
It has lost its ability to affect you. What is it they say? That time is theft?
But not for you. Close your eyes and you can start all over again.
Conjure up that necessary emotion, fresh as roses.

Time is an absurdity. An abstraction.
The only thing that matters is this moment.
This moment a million times over.
You have to trust me.
If this moment is repeated enough,
if you keep trying-and you have to keep trying-eventually
you will come across the next item on your list.


  • Pablo Neruda
  • Faust
  • Aynrand
  • Pulitzer
  • Yasunari Kawabata
  • Franz Kafka
  • Milan Kundera
  • Yukio Mishima
  • The Modern Word
  • Jhumpa Lahiri
  • Jorge Luis Borges
  • Arundhati Roy
  • Bei Dao


  • Tarotschool

  • Abundansecrets

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    Sunday, February 21, 2010

    silakan kunjungi website saya :

    Posted at 01:04 am by a cry toward the absurd


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