Category Archives: FB Notes

The Pig, The Butcher, and The Crow

Once upon a time, there was a pig. Its color was pinkish, with a very fresh-blushing like a girl’s cheek who just received her first love letter-flesh. It was fat, it was cute, it was an ordinary pig. It loved to oink. It always eats and oinks, plays in the mud and oinks, smiles… and oinks. Just an ordinary oinking-pig.

So that’s why the name ‘Owink’ then was given to it.

Owink is a male pig. Therefore, we should start calling it, subjectively-he, objectively-him, or possesively-his. Owink is a vegetarian, he has never eaten any meat before, or will, or did, or is. No. No. No. Not a chance, not even in any form of tense. Not even in conditional ‘if’ or the most complicated form of any grammatical subject. And i believe it won’t, even when there is a new rule about “The Difference of Using Grammar For Human & Pig.”

 Yes, Owink is a vegetarian. He only eats vegetables and fruits.

One day, Owink’s owner, Mrs. Notsofat, had to go for a long trip to somewhere so far away. Mrs. Notsofat is a widow, without any childern. Her family is pseudo-existed, or let’s make it simple, she has none. It’s dillematic, Mrs. Notsofat couldn’t miss the trip, but she, on the other hand, couldn’t leave Owink all alone when she had gone. It’s trilematic, she also couldn’t let someone else to take care of Owink. Wait, it’s actually tetramatic, she could, but she couldn’t let herself to think that she could let someone else to take care of Owink. Confusingly, she multi-dilemized herself, with the twisting ideas in her old brain, Mrs. Notsofat tragically made a decision to let a butcher to take care of Owink while she was gone.

“Yes, i”ll take care of him like my own son, Mam.” Said the butcher with a grin accesorized on his incorrigible face.

So then Mrs. Notsofat went off, still with an entangled logic between her very old brain and mind. She even forgot to give Owink a message of her leaving. Then she went off, crossing a river full of powder, crawling through the tunnel of fireflies and gone. No one knew when she’ll be back. Not even Mrs. Notsofat herself.

“Where have you gone, Mam?” Questioned Owink after he figured out that his owner has gone away.

Owink tried to follow his owner. But he couldn’t find the path Mrs. Notsofat went to. The mist of the evaporated powder in the river blurred his eyes. The fireflies in the tunnel dazzled his vision. She had gone. He had to let her go. Now, Owink has to make up a way to escape from the butcher. Then, Owink tried to decieve Mr. Meatmuncher, the butcher, with his cunning words.

“Mr. Meatmuncher, i have never eaten any meat since i was born. I only eat veggies. Come to think about it, i consist of no meat, then i am not a meat, right?” Convinced Owink with a trembling voice.

Fortunately, Mr. Meatmuncher’s brain is not as sharp as his knife. He believed in Owink’s manipulation just like that. So, he walked away from Owink’s presence, he was dumbfounded, ‘what’s the joy of butchering a pig that had become a plant?” Mumbled Mr. Meatmuncher to himself. Owink couldn’t feel anymore relieved after he knew that his plan had worked out well, better than how he expected it to be. But, on the next day, Mr. Meatmuncher came back to find Owink after he discovered a very great idea (according to himself) about how to solve that-the pig that had become a plant-problem. He got that idea from his last night dream about a radish that turned into a meat by eating a chicken.

“Bonanza! Bonanza! Starting from now, i am going to feed you with meat, a lot of them! I’ll turn you into a hog, you vegetabilized pig!” And Mr. Meatmuncher bursted out a terrorizing laughter.

Then, Mr. Meatmuncher threw out a bag full of meats toward Owink’s nose. “I’ll be back in a week, and i hope you have turned yourself back  into a meat by that time.” Said Mr. Meatmuncher with his point finger arrowing to Owink’s eyes. Then he made his leaving and abandoned Owink depressed with his own trouble, alone (wait), i mean together ————– with the meat.

“What should i do? What should i do? I can’t eat the meat. Owink couldn’t find anymore way to save himself from that carnivoric issue. He could only oink and cry.

By the time when the sun almost set and the sky changed its color into an orang-ish purple, a crow invited by the smell of the meats stopped by from its flight to nowhere and paid a visit. There, the crow not only found the meats in the bag, but also a crying pig-a fat, cute pig-oinking in his own tears. The crow moved closer to the crying pig and asked him a question, or two.

“Hi, little piggy, why you looked so sad? I see you have an abundant foodstock here, hmmm… a lot of meats. So, why are you being sad about?” kaaak-kaaaked the crow.

Just realizing the crow’s exsitence when it kaaak-kaaaked beside his right ear, Owink stratled out and almost swallowed his own heart that jumped to his throat. “You don’t have to be afraid of me, piggy. I maybe black in color, but it doesn’t mean i’m bad.” Kaaak-kaaaked the crow with a husky voice.

“Who… who are you? Your theme is so dark, are you the death? Am I dead already?” Suffered from the sadness and starvation of not eating anything, Owink thought he’s hallucinating when he saw the kaaak-kaaaking crow.

“haaak-haaak-haaak… silly-silly piggy. Son, i might look baneful but i’m not a villain, dear silly piggy.” calmed the crow while flapping its wings. “So why are you here?” Asked Owink with curiosity. “Those hellish-scented meats invited me here, dear.” Answered the crow.

“But, accidentally, i found something more interesting than those meats. It’s you! A crying pig! And now, could you please tell me what burdens you, dear little piggy?” Croaked the crow.

To make it short, Owink told the crow what had happened since Mrs. Notsofat left him. More tears water-fell from his eyes while his snout and jowl were dancing along with his tale. At that instant, touched by the tragedy that happened to Owink, the crow intrigued a plan to help the pig in distress.

“Don’t worry, dear. I’ll come here twice a day, once in the morning and once in the night. I’ll bring you your veggies so you won’t starve to death.” Said the crow.

“Oh, how kind of you, crow-” Owink almost thanked the crow before it cut the words coming out from his mouth. “Don’t call me ‘crow’, dear. Call me Croackina. Lady Croackina.” Said the crow, Lady Croackina, therefore we should start calling it, subjectively-she, objectively-her, or possesively-her(s). “Okay, Lady Croackina, i just wanted to show my gratitude, what can i do to pay your kindness?”

“Dear, little piggy, here’s the deal, i’ll bring you veggies, but you’ll have to let me take those meats. What do you think?”

Owink nodded without any hesistation, so, everyday after Lady  Croackina’s arrival, she will come to bring Owink his veggies. Once in  the morning and once in the night. And she will take a meat with her  when she finished her job. Everything went well, and a week flew  quickly. Owink had survived from starvation-thanks to Lady Croackina-but  he wouldn’t be so lucky after Mr. Meatmuncher found out that the meat he  had given to Owink had gone, he’d think that Owink had eaten them all  and he had once again turned into a meat. And the bad news is, Mr. Meatmuncher will come in no minute since today is the day he promised about his comeback.

“Don’t worry, dear silly piggy.”

Suddenly, a husky voice run through the air. It sounded familiar to Owink. It’s Lady Croackina! Apparantely, she came to Owink’s rescue. And she wasn’t alone. The sky became dark as she flew above Owink’s head. Black feathers danced everywhere. She brought her friends with her, they came from everywhere. So, when Mr. Meatmuncher came to butcher Owink, the darkened sky attacked him ferociously with croaks and husky voices. Therefore, Mr. Meatmuncher ran away in fear and never came back again. Lady Croackina and her friends had saved Owink, and the news about the darkened sky above Mrs. Notsofat’s farm spread rapidly. Reached to Mrs. Notsofat’s ears in no time, and it made her come back to find Owink-her ordinary oinking pig-although, he was out from nowhere, instantly. So in the end, Owink reunited with Mrs. Notsofat, her owner. And, Lady Croackina became their new family member. She sometimes comes to take some meats away or bring some veggies for Owink.

Owink and Croackina would oink-oink and kaaak-kaaak together,

usually, once in the morning, and once in the night.

And they lived happily ever after…

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The Hair Analogy

This feeling is like dyeing the hair.

It’s blonde now, but you think it’s not right anymore…

Things aren’t working right.

Doing the right things doesn’t seem to be right anymore.

All things turns dry,

you wanna paint it black, back black again,

but you’re afraid of the risk of making it worse…

Of the split ends tendencies…

Of the fragile middle body structures…

You’re too much of it.

It’s curly you wanna straight it up…

it’s too flat you wanna make it big volumed…

why why life’s so much alike of hair.

Oh why why it’s so much complicated like hair’s not getting combed.

nay, nay, we name it again…

this style that style…

too long too short,

or too much thoughts of getting it cut…

you know life’s so much alike of hair…

it grows all time, sometimes you want it grow fast…

sometimes you want it to end there…

one day it’s like a bad hair day,

nothing seems right and you think you need to put some cap on it…

or wearing some wig faking it…

why why oh why life’s so much alike of hair…

you wanna show the world,

it’s hard to cope with,

you’ll never satisfied with,

it’s hard to take care about…

yet you’re so afraid of getting bald…

Nay nay, yeah nay,,,

hair’s like this…

life’s like this…

The hair’s like my life…

i wonder should i find a new barber now???

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The Boy & The Sea (Full Version)

There’s a little boy in the painting. Only his back can be seen. It’s fragile and shabby. He’s looking at the sea. God painted it with a sad blue taste. The surrounding reefs are grey, trying to be brown but failed. The boy’s standing, not firmly, as if there’s wind blowing his feet and balance. He keeps looking at the sea, he wonders if it’s actually formed from tears. Because it’s so sad.

No song. Nothing but silence. The boy tries to sing but failed. The wind blows his voice. The reefs block his courage. There is a little boy and the sea. The boy’s clothes are grey, trying to be green but failed. His pants are torn, showing his weak calf. The wind blows, the silence mutes, and the sea stalks. The boy’s still standing, not even close to firm, as if the wind shatters him, as if the silence pushes him to fall.

He keeps looking at the sea and wonders if it feels the same, Or it is not?

So the boy looked into the tears that formed the sea and asked, “sea, why you look so sad?” The sea echoed the boy with the same question, “boy, why you look so sad?” The boy stratled, he sees nothing but himself on the reflection of the sea. “Hey! I am asking you, why you ask me back?” The sea silenced. And the boy can’t help but to ask another question, “sea, why you look so gloomy, dark, and empty?”

“I reflect the sky, little boy.” Answered the sea seemingly.

“Why so?” The boy go deeper with his own investigation.

“Because the sky is facing me, and i’m pretending to be the only thing i’m looking at, in this case, the sky.” The sea gives out a clear clue.

“Your answer is not pleasing.” But the boy still don’t get it.

“I am not created to please you.”

Upset and dissapointed by the sea, the boy looked up and shouted to the sky, wonder if he can find a better answer for his curiosity. “Sky, why you look so dark and cloudy that makes the sea turns gloomy?” But suprisingly, in that instant, the sky closed his face with the grey clouds. Maybe the boy has asked  the wrong question. The sky started to cry out of  sudden. “What happened?” The boy flustered. Confused with the unpredictable heart of the sky.

But no matter how the boy apologizes or cheers the sky up, by the gone of each second of the hand of time, the sky’s  tantrum turns worse. He gives no answer but thundering screams and  raining tears to the boy. Helplessly, the boy looked down to the sea once again. Now, he can  see 3 reflections on the sea. The blurry images show; himself, the rain,  and the sky.

Unfortunately, the boy still can’t connect those images into something he can understand.

So the boy looks closer to the sea. Try to examine the flickering  water droplets each time a rain falls into the sea, and hope he can find  an explanation to his question. A question about his questions, maybe. “Sea, sky, rain, why all of you look so sad?” Asked the boy for the  last time. But sadly, all he can find is his own reflection on the sea’s  surface. In the end, the only answer the boy can get is an echoing voice from the sea.

“Boy, boy, boy, why you look so sad?”

There’s a little boy in the painting. Only his back can be seen. He is looking at the sea. Only there, his face can be revealed, through the reflection from the sky. And every pieces of his existences are there, in the sea, in the sky, and in the rain. God has painted it with a sad blue taste. The Boy and The Sea.’

“So, how do we get his sadness?”

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That Cat On The Roof

Di suatu kota besar di suatu benua, ada kisah tentang seekor kucing di atas atap… yup, kucing cantik dengan rambut-rambut halusnya yang mempesona dan mata tajam yang dilukis dengan busur korona tipis. Hipnotif. Seperti gerhana bulan.

Dia tinggal sendirian di atap rumah yang sama… setiap hari…
bahkan hampir setiap waktu, dia ada di sana.

Tidak ada yang tahu kenapa kucing itu selalu berada di sana. Tidak ada yang tahu kenapa dia tidak mau turun dari atap dan bermain bersama kucing-kucing lainnya yang tinggal di lingkungan sekitar situ. Yaa, di sana sebenarnya terdapat cukup banyak juga kucing-kucing lainnya. Bedanya, mereka tidak berada di atas atap… well, tidak sepanjang waktu lebih tepatnya lagi.

Di antara kucing-kucing yang ada di lingkungan itu, ada seekor kucing Maltese yang sebenarnya sangat merasa penasaran tentang sosok kucing di atas atap itu. Lebih tepatnya lagi, mengagumi.

Maltese seringkali sengaja melewati gang yang berada tepat di bawah posisi kucing di atas atap. Dia suka memperhatikan bagaimana kucing di atas atap bersender manis memperhatikan lingkungan sekitarnya. Bagaimana dia menguap lucu sampai gigi-gigi runcingnya yang (mengejutkannya) berwarna putih bersih terlihat jelas. Tapi, Maltese tidak pernah berani… benar-benar menanyakan kepada kucing di atas atap itu, kenapa dia tidak mau turun dari sana…?

Miaaaowwww……

Kucing di atas atap sendiri, sebenarnya sudah hapal dengan sosok Maltese. Ya,,, dia tahu kalau Maltese adalah pemimpin geng kucing di wilayah itu. Cakarnya tajam. Dia berwibawa. Dia baik hati dan suka memberikan bagian makanannya pada kucing yang masih bayi serta yang sudah lanjut usia. Sebuah perasaan kagum juga sudah lama muncul di benak sang kucing di atas atap.

Pada suatu hari, sebuah badai melanda kota itu. Angin dingin yang lembab dan ganas menyapu seluruh isi kota. Hujan tidak mau berhenti. Ini adalah badai dingin paling buruk yang pernah terjadi di kota itu.

Kucing-kucing di seluruh lingkungan masing-masing berkumpul bersama, mendekatkan diri satu sama lain supaya udara yang dingin dapat ditangkal dengan panas tubuh yang terkumpul dari para kucing. Maltese sebagai kepala pimpinan kucing dengan sigap mengatur pengelompokan kucing selama badai itu berlangsung. Semuanya rapi dan teratur. Sempurna.

Lalu, saat dia mau ikut bergabung ke kumpulan kucing lainnya untuk menghangatkan tubuh, dia teringat akan sang kucing di atas atap. Apa yang akan terjadi padanya? Apa dia bisa bertahan? Meskipun bulunya tebal, apa dia bisa bertahan menghadapi badai dingin ini? Sendirian?

Ah, sepertinya aku harus menghampirinya…

Akhirnya Maltese pun pergi ke gang yang biasanya. Sesampainya di sana, dia melihat kepada sang kucing di atas atap. Dia terlihat baik-baik saja. Duduk dengan tenang meski diterpa angin dingin yang kadang disertai serpihan es dengan derajat minus. Saat itu juga, kucing di atas atap melihat kepada Maltese yang ada di bawahnya. Mereka saling terdiam satu sama lain. Saling menatap dengan mata busur mereka itu.

Tahukah kalian apa yang sebenarnya ada di dalam pikiran mereka???

Sang Maltese, ketika melihat kucing di atas atap terlihat baik-baik saja, dia mengurungkan niatnya untuk mengajaknya turun dan berkumpul bersama. Ya, dia tidak berani menyatakan perasaannya. Betapa dia ingin kucing di atas atap turun dan ikut dengannya. Mulai hidup bersamanya. Maltese berpikir, apa mungkin kucing di atas atap nantinya akan mau mengiyakan ajakannya? Karena takut ditolak, dia pun diam saja. Hilang sudah kesempatan itu.

Padahal sebenarnya dia salah besar, kucing di atas atap, sebenarnya sudah hampir tidak bisa bergerak karena saking kedinginannya. Dia pikir dia akan selamat saat Maltese datang, tapi dia bingung kenapa Maltese hanya berdiri di sana. Sebenarnya dia ingin berteriak, “aku butuh kamu…” tapi dia tidak berani. Karena dia pikir, kenapa dia tidak mencoba naik terlebih dahulu, kenapa dia hanya berdiri di sana dan memandanginya… Kucing di atas atap tentu saja tidak mengerti alasan sebenarnya Maltese datang ke sana. Dia sedih sekali karena dia akhirnya berpikir bahwa Maltese hanya senang menontoni dirinya saja, ya… kucing di atas atap mengurungkan niatnya juga. Selesai.

Alkisah, kemudian…

Maltese pun pergi… meninggalkan sang kucing di atas atap. Dia tidak tahu, kalau itu adalah saat terakhir dia akan bisa melihat kucing di atas atap yang disayanginya itu duduk manis dan menguap lucu…

Yaa, itu semua karena mereka satu sama lain tidak berani mengungkapkan perasaan mereka yang sebenarnya. Ironis… Bukankah seharusnya mereka bilang saja apa yang sebenarnya ada di dalam benak mereka? Persoalan ditolak atau diterima, bisa dipikirkan nanti saja… bukankah lebih baik kalau mereka mencoba,,, daripada saling menunggu sampai salah satunya… benar-benar… pergi…???

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Can’t Say Enough

The rain has stopped pouring in my heart,
now it comes this feeling compiled with…
You’re like the achievement i’ll never get…
You and your prideful dignified tendencies…

How should i say it?
Yeah,,,
I’ve lost expressions…
You’ve got me sapped…
Like bandits after shiniest,,,
Can’t get enough of your innoncence…

And it does make me feel so stupid to fall so easily,
I’m that obvious that the sky clears the clouds,
I’m that lunatic that the moon smiles shyly over the redness of my face,
I’m blushing… I’m crushed…
I’m just so so so in love…

You’re my penguin that I adore, you’re simply super cute…
You’re the butterfly, You’ve gone with my heart…
You’re like furballs, You warmth me inside…
You are everything i can’t say enough,

Then,,,
I’m a big box for your shelter…
I’m a puppy that need your love,,,
Caress me, It’s okay…

I’ll low myself to the point i don’t care at all,
you’re my nobel prize…
you’re my liberty statue…
you’re galaxies…

yeah,
i can’t say enough…

I’m just so so so into you…

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