menunda finalitas - menunggu relatifitas - tribute to Sartre- Camus- Sisca

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Menunda finalitas, menunggu relatifitas -
Tibute to Sartre – Camus -Sisca
By Hudan Hidayat

               

1.

Seorang teman dan seorang musuh dalam pikiran. Sebuah masa lalu dan sebuah dunia yang sama mungkin tak sama. Atau sebuah masa depan yang tak terduga pola dan wajahnya. Bahwa manusia adalah esensi dan juga eksistensi. Sekalipun kita optimis akan kekuatan kemanusiaan untuk menjadikan sebuah dunia yang kita huni, tetaplah suara absurd dari dunia itu menggemakan nada yang sama di abad abad kita ini: suara muram dan suara riang, suara dari derita dan bahagia manusia. Dan itulah suatu wajah esensi yang tak bisa kita tolak - sebuah wajah absurd yang lain.

Bahwa kaum eksistensialis seperti Camus atau Sartre, meneriakkan manusia yang mewujudkan dunianya, memberontak, terasa seolah teriakan yang parau di tengah dunia itu sendiri: dengan cepat angin menghelanya ke arah kekosongan. Bahkan ke arah dipenggalnya kelengkapan pengertian akan hidup. Hidup yang tak hendak menuntaskan hukum kausalitas dalam dunia. Akan kebermulaan dunia, akan penyebab adanya dunia.

Dunia tanpa penyebab terasa sebagai melawan hukum yang dipeluk para pemikir: ingin melihat bekerjanya akal sehat atas tiap gejala dunia. Dan ia menjadi paradoks dengan menolak tuhan seraya memeluk atau menciptakan dewa sendiri. Dan kita tahu, betapa pembuktikan kosmos telah menjadi suatu sejarah tentang eksistensi tuhan. Bahwa tuhan ada dan membentuk dunia dengan nasib atau takdir dunia. Dan bahwa semua orang terikat dan dirantai oleh nasib atau takdirnya.

Maka tiap pemberontakan adalah suatu pematahan, bukan suatu pencarian tuntas akan keberadaan tuhan. Ia adalah seolah peneliti di dalam suatu laborat yang menyisihkan data, tak hendak memasukkannya ke dalam suatu proses input, walau ia tahu betapa penting, kalau tak hendak disebutkan sebagai data terpenting, dalam kerja pembuktian yang sedang ia kerjakan.

Begitulah orang menolak tuhan, menjadi ateis. Adapun konteks zaman seperti perang dan ketidakadilan, kematian, penderitaan dan kebahagiaan sekejap yang melekat di tiap aspek hidup, hanyalah sebuah latar “kebetulan belaka”, bagi suatu jiwa yang telah memiliki sampar dalam hatinya.

Sampar, yang kelak latar ini, berpindah ke latar perang yang lain: gemuruhnya akal sehat dalam suatu proses menjadi modern, telah menimbulkan sebuah fatal dalam perang fisik yang telah berganti wajah: latarnya bukan lagi hanya sepasukan yang berderap dengan bayonet di tangan, dan bom di udara, ranjau dan tank baja, tapi telah menjelma ke dalam arus senjata benda benda serta citra sedunia.

Orang pun kembali melakukan pemberontakan, menyerang dasar yang menjadi azaz modern itu: metapisikanya, rasionalitasnya, kini digoyang dan diguncang, seperti kaum eksistensialis ateis menggoyang dan mengguncang tuhan, menemukan diri ke dalam barisan yang menolak grand narativ, dan lalu terlempar ke dalam ucapan yang sama konyolnya: menolak tiap kuasa yang berada, atau datang dari luar, dirinya sendiri.

Ketakmengertiannya betapa tuhan - kuasa metapisika yang mereka campakkan itu, di taman eden, telah melakukan apa yang mereka serukan, yakni membatalkan keputusannya sendiri, dalam suatu proyek keputusan bercabang dua, menampakkan wajahnya yang paradoks, ambigu dari dirinya sendiri, dengan sebuah latar perang yang dipersiapkan menjadi sebuah kasus belli: ular di alkitab, iblis di al quran. Sesama pohon terlarang di kedua kitab, dan keputusan untuk “berdiamlah kalian ini di surga ini”.

Orang tak tahu, tuhan yang tak kelihatan itu, di sini telah menurunkan derajat dirinya agar bisa dimengerti, agar bisa disingkapkan wajah tak nampaknya, dengan meletakkan diri seolah manusia seperti kita juga: melakukan intimidasi, suatu cita rasa yang jauh dari sifat ketuhanan, dengan intimidasi yang menjadi suatu takdir dunia yang tak bisa ditolak: turunlah kalian ini, kelak kalian akan menjadi dua belahan nasib baik dan nasib buruk, atau dalam bahasa intimidasi dari kitabnya sendiri: “kelak kalian akan berbunuhan satu sama lain”.

Berbunuhan, yang dalam bahasa al kitab sebagai frasa indah dari suatu pelajaran imajinasi tentang sesuatu yang tak ada, tapi kini telah diberi baju agar mudah dipahami oleh manusia:

“aku akan mengadakan permusuhan antar engkau (Lucifer) dan perempuan ini, antara keturunanmu dan keturunannya; keturunannya akan meremukkan kepalamu, dan engkau akan meremukkan tumitnya.” – (al kitab kejadian 14)

Itulah sebuah wajah dari pembatalan, atau membatalkan, finalitas dari suatu ketetapannya sendiri, dengan mengirim manusia ke dunia. Wajah finalitas yang kelak menjanjikan surga di sana, seolah sebuah final, hari kemudian itu, atau seolah final, hari ajaran kini ini, tapi baik ajaran kini maupun hari kemudian itu, keduanya berhenti juga ke dalam bahasa kaum yang tak hendak mengacu ke kitab suci. yakni relatifitas.

Bahwa hari akhir dengan waktu tak berkesudahan – abadi, itu adalah suatu hal yang bersifat relatif.

Relative dari kata lain tak bertepi, tak tentu kesudahannya, dari sifat yang melekat darinya: abadi.

Saya menyebutnya sebagai kepastian relatif, dari watak sang pencipta yang juga relatif, yang bias “berbunuhannya” telah menjelma dan mewujud ke dalam suatu ateisme kaum eksistenasialis, atau kehendak untuk memberontaki logosentrisma para filsuf dekonstruksi. Ke dalam kehendak untuk menjadi dewa sendiri dalam laku pikiran dan laku tindakan. Atau ke dalam latar perang fisik dan latar perang modernisme dengan wajah dehumanisasinya yang getir dan pahit.

Menunda finalitas, menunggu relatifitas, adalah suatu revisi dari pemikiran filsuf yang bersentuhan keras oleh produk budayanya sendiri: kemajuan yang mendatangkan peperangan. Ia menjadi filsafat yang meniupkan arah dan angin baru, terhadap suatu cara mengada di atas dunia. Suatu cara bagaimana “sang manusia bisa bahagia” – bukan “sang dewa sisifus bisa tertawa”.

Memang semua itu adalah dinding, tapi bukan berarti sebuah pintu yang tertutup sama sekali. Tangan kita pun tak sepenuhnya kotor dalam dinding seperti itu. Walau segalanya hanya menjadi seonggok sampar dalam hati. Atau seorang asing dengan wajah lain yang turun ke dunia. Wajah dari suatu cita cita pada usia remajanya pernah mengangankan, atau mungkin mengidamkan, sebuah wajah tuhan yang turun ke bumi. Tapi tuhan tidak turun ke bumi, sehingga menimbulkan rasa asing di hati. Segalanya tiba tiba menjadi aneh, menjadi absurd. Menjadi sia sia dan tak bisa dipercaya.

Segalanya tiba tiba memuakkan, dan kita yang ingin membuat sebuah wajah, sebuah nama, sebuah riwayat dari suatu langit ketinggian dengan dan bersama ciptaan, mendadak mengurungkan diri karena disergap oleh rasa muak itu. Seakan api eropa yang maha dahsyat itu kini berhenti, dan berputar putar, hanya berputar putar, ke dalam suatu kehendak untuk berkuasa menjadi kehendak untuk mewujud, atau keluar dari rasa muak, rasa keasingan. Orang tetap mewujudkan eksistensinya. Tapi eksistensi yang tak mengangkat lagi. Tak ke mana kecuali ketakjelasan. Seperti tak jelasnya mengapa orang telah berjalan seolah terbalik dalam sebuah kafe.

Some of these days,
Youl miss me, honey.

Saya telah menurunkan citra keras dua pemikiran dunia yang berwajah tunggal nada, ke dalam suatu arah baru yang berwajah ganda dengan tetap mengakui keunikan manusia, tapi bukan tak berpintu sama sekali. Dengan mencoba memberikan pengertian baru dari cara melihat realitas sebuah kitab suci secara baru. Sehingga kita kehilangan relevansi untuk menolaknya, atau mengacuhkannya, sebagai sebuah pusat pemaknaan. Benar tidak membawa jalan keluar apapun, dari suatu kehendak hati yang menuntut kejelasan, akan mengapa ada bahagia sekaligus derita, tapi dengan arah dan angin baru semacam itu, setidaknya manusia bisa berbahagia secara ganda. Ganda dari wajah ciptaannya, dan wajah harapan yang telah kita kuakkan akan kemungkinan wujud tak nyatanya.


2.

Di suatu siang seorang perempuan menampakkan kepada saya kertas berisi tulisan di dua sisinya. Saya menjadi agak heran dengan cara memfoto copy seperti itu. Hemat benar, kata saya. Perempuan yang cantik dan nampak matang itu menjawab sambil tersenyum penuh pengertian akan hidup.

oh ya, ini suatu kehidupan, katanya. Kehidupan dalam tulisan, dan kehidupan dari suatu pohon yang telah diolah ke dalam pabrik, dan kini telah menjadi kertas.

Kehidupan, kata saya membatin, kehidupan dari suatu benda mati: pohon, yang oleh Sartre telah dicontohkan sebagai cara bereksistensi yang diam, tak keluar. Tapi kini telah berputar dengan arah baru, ke dalam suatu filsafat kehidupan yang telah diberi arah dan napas lain, oleh perempuan yang bertalenta menulis prosa:

Sisca – suatu identitas nama yang mensimbolikkan kelembutan dan kebebasan, akan hidup, dalam hidup.

ia yang popular dengan nama pena nneonlight. Nama ini sendiri adalah lambang lain bagi kehendak diri untuk hadir sebagai penerang, atau seperti gejala kertas tadi, penyingkapan dari suatu seolah remeh dan disepelekan orang: kertas yang disobek sobek, setelah kita mungkin gagal membentukkan suatu cerita di atasnya.

Kertas yang dengan ringan kita buang ke keranjang sampah, kini telah berbalik arah seolah, atau lebih tepatnya, diperlakukan sebagai benda bernyawa. Kertas yang faktanya menjadi sebuah isyarat bagi kematian yang akan datang dalam suatu perang (cukup memo sang jenderal untuk menjatuhkan sebuah bom), tapi kertas yang menjadi medium bagi sang penulis, untuk membuat kehidupan di atas bom yang dijatuhkan itu.

Bom bom tetap berjatuhan. Bom duka dan bom air mata. Bom bahagia dan bom nestapa.

Bom pikiran dan bom tindakan dari suatu kepercayaan atas pikiran. Seperti Sartre yang telah mencatatnya ke dalam lakon huis close, atau dalam suatu cerita pendek di mana tokoh tokohnya terkurung ke dalam sebuah dinding putih. Atau seperti saya yang berhenti di sebuah pagar di sebuah pondok kecil di bali. Lampu penerang yang temaran, datang dan keluar dari penginapan kecil dengan jendela jendelanya yang kedatangan angin.

Malam hari. Saya berada di tepi. Dari suatu dunia yang tak bisa saya masuki lagi. Satu satunya yang bisa saya baca dari novel nausee itu, hanya sebait pikiran yang disusun Sartre dalam bentuk puisi:

some of these days
youll miss me honey

itulah tepi dari suatu bahasa yang kita tak mengerti – bahasa perancis. Tepi dari hidup juga yang tak mudah kita pahami.

Pahamkah kita akan suatu cerita dengan setting tengah laut yang diberi judul check mate? Seolah sisca dalam cerita pendeknya menyuarakan kembali gema dari “kita yang terhukum, kita yang dihukum dengan tanpa penjelasan apapun”, kini berada di tengah dunia dengan tepi tepinya yang menjuntai seolah udara tak berpola. Gelap semata.

Sebagaimana gelapnya siapa turis asing di bali yang telah meninggalkan novel nausee di atas meja kecil, tempat saya pada suatu malam terdampar di situ.

"tolong kamu awasi dia ya, jangan sampai melintasi pagar."

Dan saya dengan cepat menghela pembukaan cerita yang mendadak seperti itu, ke dalam dunia yang menyimak betapa tak berpagarnya pemikiran orang orang seperti camus atau Sartre, atau betapa kedua orang itu telah menjadi representasi zamannya tentang kehendak hati yang ingin menyeberangi pagar ketuhanan. Akhirnya sampai juga ke tengah samudera lautan hidup, seperti yang dikisahkan oleh sisca dalam ceritanya yang mengambil judul kosa kata dari permainan yang datang dari dunia catur: terskak mat, langkah tiada lagi langkah. Langkah yang berhenti dan mati: tak berkemungkinan lagi meraih kepenerangan atas dunia, karena tercemplungnya badan ke dalam jurang.

Manusia adalah layang layang, putus dibawa angin, tanpa tahu kapan angin berhenti, dan di mana angin akan berhenti.

Atau seperti frasa dari sang pembunuh tuhan yang terkenal:

Kita telah membakar layar layar kapal kita. Lihatlah kapal mungil kita kini telah terombang ambing di tengah lautan hidup yang luas dan ganas.

Begitulah di dunia sana orang membuat metapora akan kehidupan, sebagaimana di dunia sini orang pun menciptakan metapora tentang kehidupan dan kematian. Seperti yang bisa kita simak dalam cerita sisca itu: check mate. Sebuah cerita yang mengandung ketidak jelasan, dan kegelapan dari suatu nasib yang selalu minta diterangi. Siapakah lelaki yang melarikan diri di situ? Siapakah lelaki yang memintanya melarikan diri di atas kapal itu? Siapakah orang orang ramai di tengah lautan itu?

Aku yang tiba tiba muncul di sana, seolah melambangkan manusia yang mendadak ditempatkan di tengah dunia. Sebuah penempatan yang telah membuat camus dan Sartre mabuk dan gemetar, dan akhirnya melakukan pemberontakan. Aku yang ditempatkan bukan dalam suatu setting yang tenang, tapi suatu latar di atas kapal di tengah lautan. Aku yang diminta hendak melarikan diri. Sebuah permintaan absurd: hendak melarikan diri kemana di atas universe ini. Dan terasa mengharukan, aku yang mengalami dalam cerita sisca itu, saat menjawab anjuran orang tak dikenal yang menjadi lawan bicaranya.

"tidak. aku tidak akan melarikan diri. aku akan menyerahkan diri."

Keras kepala, atau suatu permainan yang berhasil dari seni menuliskan cerita fiksi yang luar biasa: pendek, tapi bisa menjadi suatu penali dari gerak gerik orang filsafat. Atau baik kita katakan: sang sisca, telah menjadi ibu bagi sang filsuf dalam pikiran. Cerita yang dituliskannya telah menjadi filsafat itu sendiri. Telah menjadi ibu ilmu pengetahuan yang kini bermain, atau tengah memainkan diri, di hadapan ketiga anak anaknya: lelaki nakal pembentuk dunia. Ibu dari suatu simbolik gender yang melekat sebagai pengidentitas dirinya. Ibu simbolik bagi induk ilmu pengetahuan itu sendiri: filsafat.

Kita tak bisa keluar dari dunia, walau kita mungkin bisa sembunyi dari dunia. Dan kembali lelaki anonim dalam cerita sisca itu mengajukan sebuah penawaran, penawaran yang saya baca sebagai tiap kemungkinan yang bisa dikerjakan orang di atas dunia. Transaksi ide dimulai dari kehendak untuk dialog dari wajah wajah tanpa nama itu.

Wajah yang lain yang muncul. wajah dari the others yang dikehendaki oleh levinas, kini telah mengambil anonim gandanya dari banyak wajah yang satu pun tanpa nama di kapal itu. Wajah yang kelak salah satu darinya, wajah sang terhukum dan tertuduh di atas kapal, telah memecahkan kebekuan dialog, atau buntunya negosiasi info, dengan mengambil tindakan nekat yang justru tak dianjurkan camus dalam segenap keyakinan kerja filsafatnya: terjun diam diam dari atas kapal.

Kematian, seolah diminta oleh sang ibu demi dan untuk melahirkan pemaknaan baru: wajah dari puncak the others – wajah dari nasib dan takdir tuhan itu sendiri, sang maha the others.

Demikian kita bisa melihat akhir dari suatu cerita yang bernuansa hebat itu: chack mate, ke dalam suatu kematian yang dialami tokohnya, di mana lambaian tangan yang dilepasnya dari suatu kedalaman air di tengah laut, terasa menggemakan suatu kemungkinan ganda: lambaian tangan kesakitan, tapi sekaligus lambaian tangan perpisahan. Ataukah itu suatu isyarat dari lambaian tangan yang ke tiga? – suatu isyarat merayakan kehadiran tuhan, dengan mengambil suatu ritual kematian dari tiap perayaan.

“put your hand in the hand of the man who stilled the water
put your hand in the hand of the man who calmed the sea
dia belum pernah merasa sedekat ini dengan penciptanya.

lalu dia jatuh, jatuh, ke dasar yang dalam dan dingin

suara langkah2 kaki berlari dan teriakan2 marah membuat ricuh malam yang sedari tadi sunyi itu.

"di mana dia?"

beberapa lampu senter menyoroti lapisan2 air tebal yang beriak rahasia dengan suaranya yang berat, menutupi dalam2 segala sesuatu yang dengan bulat2 telah ditelannya.

tubuhnya bergidik. dia dapat merasakan lambaian tangan dari dalam air yang gelap itu. dia mati. dia telah mati.”

Kelak di ceritanya kemudian, dalam suatu permainan teka teki yang datang dari novel yang belum jadi, “sang ibu kehidupan dan ibu kematian” ini bergerak dan membentuk laut dan lelakinya yang lain. Dari suatu laut nasib yang masih sama juga: dibiarkannya dirinya seolah terlempar dari taman eden itu, langsung jatuh dan berdiam di sebuah pulau terpencil di tengah lautan. Di mana setiap hari ia mengharap sebuah kapal datang, dengan asap hitam di langit sebagai penanda, dan peluit sinyalnya yang terdengar sampai ke pulau sunyinya.

“Aku suka sekali berdiri di atas batu karang ini. Batu karang yang terletak di belakang pondok kumuh kami. Bentuknya lucu, seperti kepala raksasa yang dijorokkan ke laut. Aku akan berdiri lama-lama melihat ke atas cakrawala. Tidak bergerak. Seakan rohku sendiri sudah terbang pergi entah ke mana, meninggalkan jasadku tetap berdiri kaku di batu karang itu.

Di laut ini tidak pernah ada satu kapalpun melintas. O Tuhan, betapa aku berharap ada kapal yang melintas di sini. Satu saja, untuk membawaku pergi jauh-jauh dari sini.

Terkadang aku merasa seperti melayang-layang dan rohku yang memberontak telah berpindah dan tinggal pada sosok entah siapa. Aku merasa mengenalnya, namun juga tidak. Jiwa kami sama, jiwa yang terkurung dalam dunia.”

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To defer finality, to look forward relativity
by hudan hidayat

1.
A friend and an enemy in mind. A past and a very same world may not be the same. Or a future of unexpected patterns and face. That man is the essence and existence. Even if we optimistic of power of humanity to make a world of our habitation, but still from the sound of absurd of this world reflects the same tone in this our centuries : the murky sound and cheery voice, the voice of suffering and human happiness. And that is the essence of a face that we can not reject – another face of absurd.

That the existentialist such as Camus or Sartre, cry out the man who’s realize the world, to rebel, feels as if a hoarse cry in the middle of world itself: the wind so fast haul it to the emptiness. Even to the
direction of broken off of completeness comprehension of life. Life that does not want to complete the causality law in the world. Of the early occurrence of the world, of the cause of the world.

A world without cause feels as against the law of which embraced by the thinker : that is to see the work of senses of every and each symptom over the world. And he became paradox with the decline of God while hugging or creating his own God. And as we know, how verification of a cosmos has become a history of the existence of God. That the gods exist and has formed the world and the fate or destiny of world. And that all persons are bound and be chained by fate and destiny.

So each of rebellion is a fracture, not a thorough search of existence of God. It is as if a researcher in the laboratory eliminate data, do not want to enter in an input process, even though he knows how important, if not want to be mentioned as the most important data, in verification of work that he is currently doing.

that is how people decline the God, to became atheist. The context of the age such as war and injustice, death, suffering and happiness is fleeting inherent in every aspect of life, is just the background of a "mere coincidence", for a soul who has a pestilence in his heart.

Plague, which later in this background, move to the background of the other war: thundering of senses in a process of becoming modern, has caused a fatal in the physical war that has changed the face: the background not just only troops trot with bayonet in hand, and with bomb in the air, mines and steel tank, but had to reincarnate in the flow of weapons of objects, with image of a worldwide.

People go back to the rebellion, to attack the base of the modern principle: its metaphysic, its rationality, now is shook and wavered, such as the existentialist atheist folk rock and shake the Gods, to find oneself
into the rows who’s decline grand narative, and then thrown into a same foolish speech : to reject every exist authority, or authority come from outside himself.

Of his uncomprehension of how God – the power of metaphysic which they had thrown away, in Garden of Eden, has been doing what they proclaimed, that is to cancel his own decision, in a forked decision project, appeared his face of paradox, of itself ambiguous, with a background of war which is to be a cassus belli (the justification for acts of war) : serpent in the Bible, the devil in the Koran. Similar forbidden tree in both book, and the decision to "please be settled in this paradise."

People do not know, that God who is invisible, has lower His degree Himself to be understood, so His unseen face can be disclosed, with Him putting Himself in line with mankind : to conduct intimidation, a tastes that are far from the Divine nature, with intimidation of a destiny of the world that can not be denied: Go down this time, you will soon become two side of good fortune and bad fortune, or in His own intimidation language in of His own book : "Soon you will eliminate one another."

Killing each other, which in biblical as a beautiful phrase of a lesson of imagination about something that is not there, but now has been given cover in order to be easily understood by human:

"I will make you enemies of each other, between you (Lucifer) and the woman, your offspring and her offspring, it will crush your head, and you will strike its heel" (genesis 14)

That is the face of a cancellation, or cancel, finality of His own statement, by sending people to the world. The face of finality of which promising heaven over there in future, as if a final, that later day, or as if final, the day of today teaching, but either today teaching or later on, both also stop into the language of people who do not want to refer to the holy book. ie relativity. That the end of the day of eternal interminable time, it is a matter of relativity.

Relative is another word of borderless, unclear conclusion, from the inherent nature of itself : immortal.

I call this as relative certainty, from the character of the creator that is also relative, of ‘killing each other’ that rays of which has come into form of the atheism of existentialist, or the will to fight the centre of label of the deconstructive philosopher. Into a will to become a deity in its own behavior and the behavior of mind. Or into the background of physical war and background of modernism war with its face of dehumanization of which bitter and bitter.

To delay finality, to look forward relativity, is a revision of philosopher’s ideas that collide with its own cultural product : a progress that bring war. It become a philosophy that put the new direction and novelty, toward a way to have become into the world. A way of how "the human can be happy" not "how god of sisifus can have a laugh."

Indeed, all of that is like the wall, but it does not mean that a door is closed at all. Our hand also are not fully in the dirty in that kind of wall. Despite everything just to become like pestilence in our heart. Or a foreign with the other face go down into the world. The face of an ideals in early age that had ever imagined, or maybe wanting, of a face of God down to earth. But God does not come down to earth, that giving rise to a strange sense in the heart. Everything suddenly came out to be strange, to be absurd. To become useless and can not be trusted.

Everything suddenly disgusting, and we that want to make a face, a name, a history from a height of heaven, and along with the creation, suddenly imprison ourselves because of that disgusting feeling. As if the tremendious light of Europe is stopping, and turn in circle, from a desire for power to be the will to materialize, or out of nausea, strange feeling. People still realize his existence. But the existence raise no more. No where except the unclearness. As the unclearness as why people has walked in upside down in a café.

Some of these days,
You’ll miss me, honey.

I've been lower the hard image of two of world thought that has face of a single tone, into a new direction with a certain kind of double face of which still recognize human uniqueness, but does not mean have no door at all. By trying to provide new understanding of how to see reality in a holy book with new perspective.

So we don’t have any relevance to refuse it, or to deny it, as a centre of meaning. The truth does not bring out any way, from a will of heart that shall require clarity, of why there is happy and suffering at the same time, but with the kind of new way and perception, and such, at least, people can be blessed in both. Two kind of creation face, and face of expectations that we have opened of its possibility of unreal form.


2

In a day a lady appeared to me any posts containing paper in both sides. I became quite astonished with her way to copy like that. Truly thrifty, I said. That beautiful lady of which also look mature answer me with a smile of fully understanding of this life.

o yeah, this is a life, she said. A life in any posts, and the life of a tree that has to be processed in the factory, and has now become a paper.

Life, inwardly I said, life from a dead object: tree, which by Sartre has examplizeing as a way of silent exist, not come out.But now has revolved with the new direction, into a philosophy of life that has been given another direction and breath, by a lady who has talented in writing prose:

Sisca, an identity of name that symbolize softness and freedom, of life, in life.

She is the one who is popular with the pen name : nneonlight. The name itself is a symbol for the will to present themselves as a torch, or symptoms such as paper earlier, a disclosure from a seems unimportant and neglected by people : paper were torn, after that we fail to form a story on it.

Paper that we easily dispose to our waste basket, has now turned direction as if, or more precisely, to be treated as animate objects. Paper that as the fact to become a sign for death that will come in a war (just a memo from the general enough to drop a bomb), but paper that has become a medium for the author, to make life at the top of the bomb thas has dropped off. Bomb still has been dropped off. Bomb of grief and bomb of tears. Bomb of happiness and bomb of sorrow.

Bomb of thought and bomb of doings from a reliance on the mind. As Sartre has recorded it into a play in Huis Close, or in a short story in which figures isolated in a white wall. Or like me who stopped at a fence in front of a small hut in Bali . Lights from the torch is obscure, come and go from the lodge with its window that has visited by the wind.

At night. I was at the edge. From a world that I can not enter again. Only one thing that I can read from the novel nausea, is a verse of thought that has been organized by Sartre in the form of poetry :

Some of these days
You’ll miss me honey

that is the edge of a language that we do not understand - French language. The edge of life that also is not easy for us to understand.

Could we understand a story with the setting in the middle of the sea with title check mate? As if sisca in her short story calls back an echo of "we that are condemned, we that are punished without any explanation", is now in the middle of the world with its edges that dangle as if the unfigured air. Only dark.

As dark such as foreign tourists in Bali that have left his novel ‘nausee’ on the small table, where I dumped on one night there.

"Keep on watching him, do not let him cross the fence."

And I quickly draw the opening of story of a sudden like that, into a world that note that how does not have a fence people’s thought like Camus or Sartre, or how the two people have become representative in his era of willing of heart that will want to cross the fence of divine. Finally, arrive in the middle of ocean of life, like as told by sisca in the story who takes the title from vocabulary of games that come from the chess world: checked mate, there are no more steps. The steps has stopped and dead: no longer possible to reach a light over the world, because the body has fallen off the cliff.


Men are like kites, broken off by the wind, without knowing when the wind shall stop, and where it shall stop.

Or from the phrases such as the popular murderer of god:

We have burnt the sails of our ship. Look at our tiny ship now, sail in no way of direction in the middle of an ocean of life that far reaching and violent.

So that in the world out there, people create metaphore about life, as people in the world over here also create metaphore about life and death. As we can see in the sisca’s story : check mate. A story that contains uncertainty, and darkness from a fate that always request for a light. Who is the man who fled there ? Who is the man that asking him to slip off the ship ? Who is the crowd in the middle of the ocean?


I, who arrived at the show there suddenly, as if symbolizing a man who suddenly placed in the middle of the world. A placement that has made Camus and Sartre drunk and trembling, and finally doing the rebellion. I am not placed in a quiet setting, but in a background on the ship in the middle of the oceans. I was the one, who has been requested to flee. An absurd request: where to run away in this universe. And so be cast down, I, who experienced things in that sisca’s story, at the time answering that unknown person that become his interlocutor.

"no, I will not flee. I will resign."

Obstinate, a game that works of art of writing fiction stories outside the usual: short, but can become a link of every movement of people on philosophy. Or better we say: sisca, has become the mother of the philosopher in mind. The story that she has had written has become the philosophy itself. Has become the mother of knowledge that is now playing, or playing by itself, in front of three children of her : the prankish men of former of the world. Mother of symbolic of a gender that attached as index of herself. The symbolic mother for the master of science itself: philosophy.

We can not get out of the world, even though we may be able to hide from the world. And the anonymous man in the sisca’s story submit an offering again, an offering that I read as every possibility that each person can do in the world. Transactions of ideas will begin from the will to dialogue of the faces without name.


The other face that appears. Face from the others by the desired of levinas, has been taking a lot of his double anonymous from many faces that no one with name in the ship. Faces of which later one of them, face of the accused and sentenced on the ship, has broke the stagnation of open dialogue, or the end, information negotiation, with desperate action that is not recommended by camus in all confidence in his whole work of philosophy : dive silently off the ship.


Death, as if prompted by the mother for and in order to give birth new meaning : face from the top of the others - the face of fate and destiny of god himself, the infinite of others.

That we can see the end of that great nuanced story : check mate, into the death experienced by its figures, of waving hands which he casted loose in the very depth of the middle of the sea, seem reflect a double possibility : waving hands in pain, but at the same time waving hands of parting. Or is it a hint of the third waving hands ? - A hint to celebrate God's presence, by taking a death ritual of each celebration.

ago he fell, fell, to the deep and in the cold

The sound of steps running and angry yell make the deserted night before to become noisy.

"where is he?"

some of the flashlight highlights layer of deep and thick water that wave secretly with the heavy sound, to cover deeply everything that has been swallowed in whole.

His body bristled. He could feel the waving hand in the dark water. He died. He was dead. "

Later in the story, in a game of riddles that comes from a novel that still unfinished, this "the mother of life and death” move and form the sea and the other men. From the sea of fate that is still the same: she let herself as seems thrown off garden of eden, immediately fell down and reside in a remote island in the middle of the oceans. Where every day she expect a ship comes, with its black smoke in the sky as a sign, and the whistle sounded until to her island.

"I like to stand on this rock. The reef located in the back of our shack slums. Its comical form, such as the giant head encouraged into the sea. I shall stand for a long time to see the horizon. Not moving. As it my own spirit seemingly already fly somewhere above, to go somewhere, leaving my flesh stood still in rigid, in the coral reef.

In this sea there is never even one ship that drift. O Lord, how I hope there are ships that pass here. Just one, to take me far away from here.

Sometimes I feel like hovering and my rebellion spirit has moved and lived in figures who knows.I feel known her, but also not. Our spirit is is the same spirit, the soul that is imprisoned in this world."

(alih bahasa : sisca dan hudan)

To defer finality, to look forward relativity
by hudan hidayat

1.
A friend and an enemy in mind. A past and a very same world may not be the same. Or a future of unexpected patterns and face. That man is the essence and existence. Even if we optimistic of power of humanity to make a world of our habitation, but still from the sound of absurd of this world reflects the same tone in this our centuries : the murky sound and cheery voice, the voice of suffering and human happiness. And that is the essence of a face that we can not reject – another face of absurd.

That the existentialist such as Camus or Sartre, cry out the man who’s realize the world, to rebel, feels as if a hoarse cry in the middle of world itself: the wind so fast haul it to the emptiness. Even to the
direction of broken off of completeness comprehension of life. Life that does not want to complete the causality law in the world. Of the early occurrence of the world, of the cause of the world.

A world without cause feels as against the law of which embraced by the thinker : that is to see the work of senses of every and each symptom over the world. And he became paradox with the decline of God while hugging or creating his own God. And as we know, how verification of a cosmos has become a history of the existence of God. That the gods exist and has formed the world and the fate or destiny of world. And that all persons are bound and be chained by fate and destiny.

So each of rebellion is a fracture, not a thorough search of existence of God. It is as if a researcher in the laboratory eliminate data, do not want to enter in an input process, even though he knows how important, if not want to be mentioned as the most important data, in verification of work that he is currently doing.

that is how people decline the God, to became atheist. The context of the age such as war and injustice, death, suffering and happiness is fleeting inherent in every aspect of life, is just the background of a "mere coincidence", for a soul who has a pestilence in his heart.

Plague, which later in this background, move to the background of the other war: thundering of senses in a process of becoming modern, has caused a fatal in the physical war that has changed the face: the background not just only troops trot with bayonet in hand, and with bomb in the air, mines and steel tank, but had to reincarnate in the flow of weapons of objects, with image of a worldwide.

People go back to the rebellion, to attack the base of the modern principle: its metaphysic, its rationality, now is shook and wavered, such as the existentialist atheist folk rock and shake the Gods, to find oneself
into the rows who’s decline grand narative, and then thrown into a same foolish speech : to reject every exist authority, or authority come from outside himself.

Of his uncomprehension of how God – the power of metaphysic which they had thrown away, in Garden of Eden, has been doing what they proclaimed, that is to cancel his own decision, in a forked decision project, appeared his face of paradox, of itself ambiguous, with a background of war which is to be a cassus belli (the justification for acts of war) : serpent in the Bible, the devil in the Koran. Similar forbidden tree in both book, and the decision to "please be settled in this paradise."

People do not know, that God who is invisible, has lower His degree Himself to be understood, so His unseen face can be disclosed, with Him putting Himself in line with mankind : to conduct intimidation, a tastes that are far from the Divine nature, with intimidation of a destiny of the world that can not be denied: Go down this time, you will soon become two side of good fortune and bad fortune, or in His own intimidation language in of His own book : "Soon you will eliminate one another."

Killing each other, which in biblical as a beautiful phrase of a lesson of imagination about something that is not there, but now has been given cover in order to be easily understood by human:

"I will make you enemies of each other, between you (Lucifer) and the woman, your offspring and her offspring, it will crush your head, and you will strike its heel" (genesis 14)

That is the face of a cancellation, or cancel, finality of His own statement, by sending people to the world. The face of finality of which promising heaven over there in future, as if a final, that later day, or as if final, the day of today teaching, but either today teaching or later on, both also stop into the language of people who do not want to refer to the holy book. ie relativity. That the end of the day of eternal interminable time, it is a matter of relativity.

Relative is another word of borderless, unclear conclusion, from the inherent nature of itself : immortal.

I call this as relative certainty, from the character of the creator that is also relative, of ‘killing each other’ that rays of which has come into form of the atheism of existentialist, or the will to fight the centre of label of the deconstructive philosopher. Into a will to become a deity in its own behavior and the behavior of mind. Or into the background of physical war and background of modernism war with its face of dehumanization of which bitter and bitter.

To delay finality, to look forward relativity, is a revision of philosopher’s ideas that collide with its own cultural product : a progress that bring war. It become a philosophy that put the new direction and novelty, toward a way to have become into the world. A way of how "the human can be happy" not "how god of sisifus can have a laugh."

Indeed, all of that is like the wall, but it does not mean that a door is closed at all. Our hand also are not fully in the dirty in that kind of wall. Despite everything just to become like pestilence in our heart. Or a foreign with the other face go down into the world. The face of an ideals in early age that had ever imagined, or maybe wanting, of a face of God down to earth. But God does not come down to earth, that giving rise to a strange sense in the heart. Everything suddenly came out to be strange, to be absurd. To become useless and can not be trusted.

Everything suddenly disgusting, and we that want to make a face, a name, a history from a height of heaven, and along with the creation, suddenly imprison ourselves because of that disgusting feeling. As if the tremendious light of Europe is stopping, and turn in circle, from a desire for power to be the will to materialize, or out of nausea, strange feeling. People still realize his existence. But the existence raise no more. No where except the unclearness. As the unclearness as why people has walked in upside down in a café.

Some of these days,
You’ll miss me, honey.

I've been lower the hard image of two of world thought that has face of a single tone, into a new direction with a certain kind of double face of which still recognize human uniqueness, but does not mean have no door at all. By trying to provide new understanding of how to see reality in a holy book with new perspective.

So we don’t have any relevance to refuse it, or to deny it, as a centre of meaning. The truth does not bring out any way, from a will of heart that shall require clarity, of why there is happy and suffering at the same time, but with the kind of new way and perception, and such, at least, people can be blessed in both. Two kind of creation face, and face of expectations that we have opened of its possibility of unreal form.


2

In a day a lady appeared to me any posts containing paper in both sides. I became quite astonished with her way to copy like that. Truly thrifty, I said. That beautiful lady of which also look mature answer me with a smile of fully understanding of this life.

o yeah, this is a life, she said. A life in any posts, and the life of a tree that has to be processed in the factory, and has now become a paper.

Life, inwardly I said, life from a dead object: tree, which by Sartre has examplizeing as a way of silent exist, not come out.But now has revolved with the new direction, into a philosophy of life that has been given another direction and breath, by a lady who has talented in writing prose:

Sisca, an identity of name that symbolize softness and freedom, of life, in life.

She is the one who is popular with the pen name : nneonlight. The name itself is a symbol for the will to present themselves as a torch, or symptoms such as paper earlier, a disclosure from a seems unimportant and neglected by people : paper were torn, after that we fail to form a story on it.

Paper that we easily dispose to our waste basket, has now turned direction as if, or more precisely, to be treated as animate objects. Paper that as the fact to become a sign for death that will come in a war (just a memo from the general enough to drop a bomb), but paper that has become a medium for the author, to make life at the top of the bomb thas has dropped off. Bomb still has been dropped off. Bomb of grief and bomb of tears. Bomb of happiness and bomb of sorrow.

Bomb of thought and bomb of doings from a reliance on the mind. As Sartre has recorded it into a play in Huis Close, or in a short story in which figures isolated in a white wall. Or like me who stopped at a fence in front of a small hut in Bali . Lights from the torch is obscure, come and go from the lodge with its window that has visited by the wind.

At night. I was at the edge. From a world that I can not enter again. Only one thing that I can read from the novel nausea, is a verse of thought that has been organized by Sartre in the form of poetry :

Some of these days
You’ll miss me honey

that is the edge of a language that we do not understand - French language. The edge of life that also is not easy for us to understand.

Could we understand a story with the setting in the middle of the sea with title check mate? As if sisca in her short story calls back an echo of "we that are condemned, we that are punished without any explanation", is now in the middle of the world with its edges that dangle as if the unfigured air. Only dark.

As dark such as foreign tourists in Bali that have left his novel ‘nausee’ on the small table, where I dumped on one night there.

"Keep on watching him, do not let him cross the fence."

And I quickly draw the opening of story of a sudden like that, into a world that note that how does not have a fence people’s thought like Camus or Sartre, or how the two people have become representative in his era of willing of heart that will want to cross the fence of divine. Finally, arrive in the middle of ocean of life, like as told by sisca in the story who takes the title from vocabulary of games that come from the chess world: checked mate, there are no more steps. The steps has stopped and dead: no longer possible to reach a light over the world, because the body has fallen off the cliff.


Men are like kites, broken off by the wind, without knowing when the wind shall stop, and where it shall stop.

Or from the phrases such as the popular murderer of god:

We have burnt the sails of our ship. Look at our tiny ship now, sail in no way of direction in the middle of an ocean of life that far reaching and violent.

So that in the world out there, people create metaphore about life, as people in the world over here also create metaphore about life and death. As we can see in the sisca’s story : check mate. A story that contains uncertainty, and darkness from a fate that always request for a light. Who is the man who fled there ? Who is the man that asking him to slip off the ship ? Who is the crowd in the middle of the ocean?


I, who arrived at the show there suddenly, as if symbolizing a man who suddenly placed in the middle of the world. A placement that has made Camus and Sartre drunk and trembling, and finally doing the rebellion. I am not placed in a quiet setting, but in a background on the ship in the middle of the oceans. I was the one, who has been requested to flee. An absurd request: where to run away in this universe. And so be cast down, I, who experienced things in that sisca’s story, at the time answering that unknown person that become his interlocutor.

"no, I will not flee. I will resign."

Obstinate, a game that works of art of writing fiction stories outside the usual: short, but can become a link of every movement of people on philosophy. Or better we say: sisca, has become the mother of the philosopher in mind. The story that she has had written has become the philosophy itself. Has become the mother of knowledge that is now playing, or playing by itself, in front of three children of her : the prankish men of former of the world. Mother of symbolic of a gender that attached as index of herself. The symbolic mother for the master of science itself: philosophy.

We can not get out of the world, even though we may be able to hide from the world. And the anonymous man in the sisca’s story submit an offering again, an offering that I read as every possibility that each person can do in the world. Transactions of ideas will begin from the will to dialogue of the faces without name.


The other face that appears. Face from the others by the desired of levinas, has been taking a lot of his double anonymous from many faces that no one with name in the ship. Faces of which later one of them, face of the accused and sentenced on the ship, has broke the stagnation of open dialogue, or the end, information negotiation, with desperate action that is not recommended by camus in all confidence in his whole work of philosophy : dive silently off the ship.


Death, as if prompted by the mother for and in order to give birth new meaning : face from the top of the others - the face of fate and destiny of god himself, the infinite of others.

That we can see the end of that great nuanced story : check mate, into the death experienced by its figures, of waving hands which he casted loose in the very depth of the middle of the sea, seem reflect a double possibility : waving hands in pain, but at the same time waving hands of parting. Or is it a hint of the third waving hands ? - A hint to celebrate God's presence, by taking a death ritual of each celebration.

ago he fell, fell, to the deep and in the cold

The sound of steps running and angry yell make the deserted night before to become noisy.

"where is he?"

some of the flashlight highlights layer of deep and thick water that wave secretly with the heavy sound, to cover deeply everything that has been swallowed in whole.

His body bristled. He could feel the waving hand in the dark water. He died. He was dead. "

Later in the story, in a game of riddles that comes from a novel that still unfinished, this "the mother of life and death” move and form the sea and the other men. From the sea of fate that is still the same: she let herself as seems thrown off garden of eden, immediately fell down and reside in a remote island in the middle of the oceans. Where every day she expect a ship comes, with its black smoke in the sky as a sign, and the whistle sounded until to her island.

"I like to stand on this rock. The reef located in the back of our shack slums. Its comical form, such as the giant head encouraged into the sea. I shall stand for a long time to see the horizon. Not moving. As it my own spirit seemingly already fly somewhere above, to go somewhere, leaving my flesh stood still in rigid, in the coral reef.

In this sea there is never even one ship that drift. O Lord, how I hope there are ships that pass here. Just one, to take me far away from here.

Sometimes I feel like hovering and my rebellion spirit has moved and lived in figures who knows.I feel known her, but also not. Our spirit is is the same spirit, the soul that is imprisoned in this world."

(alih bahasa : sisca dan hudan)