We should be thankful we live in an age that appreciates the wisdom of interconnected; the kind of thinking that appreciates the largeness of life and the interconnectedness of things. After this holistic wisdom was deemed irrelevant and then forgotten by the mechanical and efficiency-focused industrial and post-industrial age, we finally arrive at this stage… Continue reading The women with life-long love affairs with space
What’s behind the night sky? Against this dark backdrop there hides millions of luminous stars and galaxies that tells stories of our universe. Stretching our imagination into the edges, the dark night sky is a blank canvas to paint our meanings of existence. There, underneath this infinite and immeasurable heaven, we look up and ponder… Continue reading What’s behind the night sky?
Nietzsche’s God is Dead is perhaps the single most provocative statement that permeates common understanding and makes every young and modern atheist drool like Pavlov's dogs. Used in pop cultures like worn out concert tees enduring ages of torments and misunderstandings, this statement sparks debates or ends discussions when done by folks who are unfamiliar… Continue reading On Nietzsche’s God is Dead
Apparently, melancholy was a dark fluid circling through our body. At least that was what the Greeks think. Besides melancholy, there was also joy, lethargy and sensitivity, and anger. The inherent dogma, that sadness is a hormonal imbalance in the body, persists throughout the modern age under various clinical depression names. Despite this truth, we… Continue reading Oh darkness my old friend
Aah, the oldie-goodie of writing on a piece of paper with pen. It brings me back the memories of being a student, jabbing essays after essays, exams after exams on paper, for two hours or so. The wrist gets tired. But the flow you’re getting pushes you all the way to the end of your… Continue reading Got thinking paralysis? Write with a pen
I had never noticed myself as an actual loner until I was in college. I had lunch by myself, organized trips to classes on my own, finished my essays in my bedroom. My best friend has always been one, or two, or three. But I rarely, so rarely ever feel alone. I was one of those… Continue reading The kind of creative loneliness. And, daydreaming
If the city is a language spoken by walkers, then a post pedestrian city not only has fallen silent but risks becoming a dead language. Rebecca Solnit, Wanderlust Should we walk? Ask no one in Jakarta, ever. The answer will be replied with a gasp, a jolt, a furious face, a standing applause of some… Continue reading Should we walk?