Friday, March 23, 2007

Friday, March 9, 2007

Narcissism Measure



No comment!

Did It?



I have to face this
With patience and self esteem
And manage my anger
Like i have never seen

You, yup its you
You are my subject
This is what I can show
to you, my pretty subject

Those my real world
Those my real background
Thats why I don't need any words
Yet I can speak it with no sound

And you
I have to face you!

January 26th 2K7
Bastian

Saturday, March 3, 2007

2558



Chinese New Year!


(Thanks Om Go & Tante Kesa)

Friday, March 2, 2007

Tuesday, February 27, 2007

Monday, February 26, 2007

Penyair Mampus!



Penyair Mampus!

Muse Mode-on




v., mused, mus·ing, mus·es.

v.intr.

To be absorbed in one's thoughts; engage in meditation.
v.tr.

To consider or say thoughtfully: mused that it might take longer to drive than walk.
n.

A state of meditation.

Saturday, February 24, 2007

Pretty Satan!



Pretty Satan!

Red, red shiny horns over my head
They arise near the smooth of fur
Yes, I have a beautiful smile to spread
And charming impression, i am sure

Clothe me in a blue satin clothes
I'll drive you mad as you have never seen
Look my black eyes that made you explode
You lose nothing and never can win

Bastian 2K6

Superego



In Freudian psychoanalytic theory, one of the three aspects of the human personality, along with the id and the ego. The last of the three elements to develop, the superego is the ethical component of the personality, providing the moral standards by which the ego operates. The superego is formed during the first five years of life in response to parental punishment and approval; children internalize their parents' moral standards as well as those of the surrounding society, and the developing superego serves to control aggressive or other socially unacceptable impulses. Violation of the superego's standards gives rise to feelings of guilt or anxiety.

Red Dyslexia



Spell it!

Tuesday, February 20, 2007

I Dont Wanna Grow Up



Siapa sih yang mau jadi tua?

D.O.G.



Cynophobia suck!

Fran



To Boddah:
Speaking from the tongue of an experienced simpleton who obviously would rather be an emasculated, infantile complain-ee. This note should be pretty easy to understand.
All the warnings from the punk rock 101 courses over the years, since my first introduction to the, shall we say, ethics involved with independence and the embracement of your community had proven to be very true. I haven't felt the excitement of listening to as well as creating music along with reading and writing for too many years now. I feel guilty beyond words about these things.
For example, when we're backstage and the lights go out and the manic roar of the crowds begin, it doesn't affect me the way in which it did for Freddie Mercury, who seemed to love, relish in the love and adoration from the crowd which is something I totally admire and envy. The fact is, I can't fool you, any one of you. It simply isn't fair to you or me. The worst crime I can think of would be to rip people off by faking it and pretending as if I'm having 100% fun.
Sometimes I feel as if I should have a punch-in time clock before I walk out on stage. I've tried everything within my power to appreciate it (and I do, God, believe me I do, but it's not enough). I appreciate the fact that I and we have affected and entertained a lot of people. It must be one of those narcissists who only appreciate things when they're gone. I'm too sensitive. I need to be slightly numb in order to regain the enthusiasms I once had as a child.
On our last 3 tours, I've had a much better appreciation for all the people I've known personally, and as fans of our music, but I still can't get over the frustration, the guilt and empathy I have for everyone. There's good in all of us and I think I simply love people too much, so much that it makes me feel too fucking sad. The sad little, sensitive, unappreciative, Pisces, Jesus man. Why don't you just enjoy it? I don't know!
I have a goddess of a wife who sweats ambition and empathy and a daughter who reminds me too much of what I used to be, full of love and joy, kissing every person she meets because everyone is good and will do her no harm. And that terrifies me to the point to where I can barely function. I can't stand the thought of Frances becoming the miserable, self-destructive, death rocker that I've become.
I have it good, very good, and I'm grateful, but since the age of seven, I've become hateful towards all humans in general. Only because it seems so easy for people to get along that have empathy. Only because I love and feel sorry for people too much, I guess.
Thank you all from the pit of my burning, nauseous stomach for your letters and concern during the past years. I'm too much of an erratic, moody baby! I don't have the passion anymore, and so remember, it's better to burn out than to fade away.
Peace, love, empathy,
Kurt Cobain
Frances and Courtney, I'll be at your altar.
Please keep going Courtney, for Frances.
For her life, which will be so much happier without me.
I love you, I love you!