as black as the night can get, everything is safer now.
there’s always a way to forget once you learn to find a way how.
in the blur of serenity where did everything get lost?
the flowers of naivete buried in a layer of frost.

thought he had it all before they called his bluff
found out that his skin just wasn’t thick enough
wanted to go back to how it was before
thought he lost everything, then he lost a whole lot more

a fool’s devotion swallowed up in empty space
the tears of regret frozen to the side of his face

i’ve done all i can do. could i please come with you?


sweet smell of sunshine, i remember sometimes.

words by trent reznor. installations by rebecca horn.

the sound of the stone falling astonished him,
then the stunning size of it, the earth,
the green mesa surrounding itself with weather.
thunder echoed down the canyon in a way reminding
him of the culvert near what was once home
and his father’s far voice echoing him
back for diner. and lightning against the purple,
and twelve ravens exactly weaving and wafting
themselves to this place where some kind of indian
had built its temple to the sun.

to prove an edge to this world, the sun
was setting, bright rim. but why not
(and who would see ayway) cry?
even a stopped clock tells the correct time
twice a day. he trusted himself and cried,
then crept down the ladder carefully
when the rain finally reached him, and the cold.

the sun, insolent in its languor, descended
marking millenia by minutes withdrawing
its gold glare from anasazi walls,
the few unfallen wedged like time
into accidental cracks which is all
anyone now knows of childhood.

poem by bin ramke from the erotic lights of garden
picture: rudy hermes houses and ford automobiles for ford times, 1959, charles harper.

so what is it about the british television series skins that tick me? i’m not sure. probably because 16-year-old characters are potrayed by actual 16-year-olds. probably because they don’t look so impossibly good-looking it makes you want to jump off the roof (i feel that way about dustin milligan. he’s so impossibly beautiful i want to just give up). probably because the scriptwriters are amazingly crazy—they came up with the such of ‘bollocky wankshite’ and much more (i have memory problems ever since i smoke too much).

anyway as we all know skins recycle their entire cast every two seasons, because, of course, who stays in high school for more than two years? (unless you are nobita, whom ever since i was in 2nd grade until i got my bachelor degree, stayed in the fourth grade) i was completely amazed by how they developed the characters of the first generation (1st and 2nd series), but my current favourite charater is james cook of the second generation. he is, if i’m correct, being potrayed by jack o’connell. of course, growing up with american television most of my life, their accents and charisma still throws me off sometimes, but cookie (as this james character is usually called) is just an explosion of personality i’ve never seen before on telly (seen once or twice in real life. hardly have the energy to keep up with them). cookie is a sociopathic, drug-loving, random-fucking, out-of-this-world schoolboy who deals with everything with a crazy laugh and even sicker solutions, but his actual life problem is so touching i always end up wanting to hug him and tell him everything’s going to be okay.
i’m now still waiting (as everyone else) for skins season 4 to air. i think it’s scheduled next year. it’ll be cookie and his friends’ last season before they graduate and get replaced with new student casts. now i’m still replaying skins season three, episode 10, where cookie meets with his father (who abandoned him) and said my two favorite lines from him, “the fuck with all of you.” and “now i’m going to drink myself to death.”
cheers to you, jack o’connell.


left to right: luke pasqualino as freddie, ollie barbiero as jj, and jack o’connell as the infamous james cook a.k.a cookie.

more on skins can be found at: you can google it yourself.

tantang tirani from putri daskian on Vimeo.

i am not in my working mood, honestly. and it’s a saturday morning. my book project has only reached two verses, and it’s still pretty shitty. this is the current draft: “Jimmy was an imaginative young boy With a liking for magic herbal tea. He drinks them with his friends, or so With similar likings, definitely. Indeed, Jimmy had a real fine taste, And he was quite real smart, too. This tea isn’t your aunt’s normal Earl Grey’s Take Jimmy anywhere, they can surely do.” i’m still looking for a prospective publisher i could show this to. if you have any suggestion, you can email me at pijedaskian@hotmail.com or contact me trough my many social networking aliases. meanwhile i am having fun playing with the moment’s model-morphosis series by photographer greg kessler.

1. male or female?
demon seed —- (it keeps growing and i can feel it breathe)

2. describe yourself
just like you imagined —- an instrumental, but it makes the point.

and somewhere along the lines of

only — (i’m becoming less defined as days go by)

3. what do people feel when they’re around you?
ten miles high — (i swore i won’t turn into you)

although that’s more how i feel, so maybe

closer to god — (i want to be you, just like an animal)

4. how would you describe your previous relationship?
the great collapse — (now you know this is what it feels like)

5. describe your current relationship.
with teeth — (it burns deeper than you dare to dream it could be, i cannot go trough this again)

6. where would you want to be now?
right where it belongs —- (what if everything around you isn’t quite as it seems? what if all the world you’re used to know is an elaborated dream?)

7. how do you feel about love?
a warm place — yet another instrumental song that violently describes everything.

8. what’s your life like?
i’m looking forward to joining you, finally —- (where did everything get lost? …i’ve done all i can do, could i please come with you?)

9. what would you ask for if you had only one wish?
please — (breathe echoing the sound (please) i don’t ever want to make it stop)

10. say something wise.
big man with a gun — (shoot, shoot, shoot, shoot, shoot)


photos from nine inch nails’ last tour, wave goodbye at my flickr. cheers.
oh and have a happy rest of your life, trent.

when i think of aging, i think not of one but two pairs of deteriorating hands, gradually denying our best years while fading together into the sunset. (i love asia.)

about a month ago, i went on a soul-searching-of-a-sort journey to london to meet my aunt and her friends. the weather was especially bleak that week i was there, but even worse my aunt’s friends kept telling me that the weather was very nice and summery just before i arrived, and after i arrived home, they e-mailed me about how the weather was back to wonderful. anyway on my first day, a sunday, i took my aunt to the old truman brewery for the sunday upmarket & backyard market event. first and foremost, you should know that i am very keen of markets and low-key social events. i’m not a social person at all, but markets stirred a sudden creative burst in me and they make me feel so alive. anyway, the sunday upmarket was filled with a lot of very interesting things, and the backyard market was just very cool. my scanner is very austere but i managed to scan several parts of the negative film i spent on truman brewery. the rest of my milan-venice-london misadventures are still being scanned by my friend, yongki, using his ubercool canoscan 8800f. i’ll get them tomorrow and i’ll post them in my flickr as soon as. for more info on sunday upmarket & backyard market, go here.