in that other life left behind

this world

2004-10-27T23:48:00.000+08:00

in this world, who really cares?
maybe its better that no one does.
i like to feel sad alone.
sink into the deepest sorrows in the trenches of my heart
and wallow in self-pity.

it was noisy just now. their voices were loud.
discussing about things that didn't concern me.
sometimes i feel that- im just an entity
here
surrounded by people from another world
they look busy and try to fit in
into this cold materialistic society
while i silently observe

2004-10-25T21:17:00.000+08:00

looking at my hair is one thing. commenting on it so loudly is another. firstly, im not deaf. secondly, whether or not i like your hair either- is for me to know. learn, immature people.
green is not your colour. its Mine.

2004-10-13T10:50:00.000+08:00

Weggaan

Weggaan is iets anders
dan het huis uitsluipen
zacht de deur dichttrekken
achter je bestaan en niet
terugkeren. Je blijft
iemand op wie wordt gewacht.

Weggaan kun je beschrijven als
een soort van blijven. Niemand
wacht want je bent er nog.
Niemand neemt afscheid want je /
gaat niet weg.

Rutger Kopland (1934)

Going Away

Going away is something different
than sneaking out of the house
softly pulling the door shut
behind your existence and not
returning. You remain
someone who is waited for.

Going away one might describe as
a kind of staying. Nobody
waits because you're still there.
Nobody says goodbye because /
you're not going away.

(tr. Cliff Crego)

because this world is a lonely one

2004-10-11T20:52:00.001+08:00

sometimes i reach home and think: though there are people whom ive lived with all my life just There, its no different from living alone because we don’t talk at all. im not even sure we really know each other. so i eat sleep and listen to music like im alone in the house, and its almost always like that. when i get tired of what im doing, i stare out of the window, at the lights faraway, at people through their tiny windows doing their own thing and suddenly it occurs to me how big this place is although some people call us snot and red dot and every other thing miniscule. then after that i feel so small and helpless like the night outside my window is engulfing me.

sometimes i just don’t want to be alone. i want a shoulder to lean on when im watching tv and a person i can laugh and cry with and someone who will sing songs with me in the early mornings when i just cant fall asleep. someone who can teach me software and comment on my work. i think that someone may be you, but in the end, nonchalance against arrogance, is it not?