Welcome to The Creative Writing Class Blog of Englit '45

The Last of Illusion


Posted by Creating Class 2005 | Posted on Saturday, January 31, 2009 | Posted in ,

I am a stranger in an unknown city. I am sure that I have never visited there, but I am confused why the people know me. Every one who I meet addresses me politely. When I wonder apprehending the situation, in the corner of West Street, I see a little girl smiling to me. She is about nine; the bright white jasmine under the riverside tempts every one to pick it. It looks so beautiful and fresh like her perfect beauty. It seems that this beautiful jasmine has waited me for long time to be picked by me because her gazed eyes as if it says that she has waited for my arrival, Her curly long hair is nicely waved when the wind blow touching it like the waves on the sea. I approach her and try to get some information. After passing three houses which separate us when I see her for the first time, I cannot prevent my self approaching her closely and greeting her. I smile at her and try to make ice breaking by saying “hello.” She gives response to my greeting by saying “Hello” too but without I guess before, she calls me “Nina”. I am surprised why she knows my nickname that no one knows but my family and my little close friend, Grace.

Air in a Grey Room


Posted by Creating Class 2005 | Posted on Wednesday, January 28, 2009 | Posted in ,


“How can I put into words what I felt if one day, when I see a mirror, there's no reflection of mine. The emptiness's stroking my eyes, is it lying? I look upon myself there, no hands, no face, no skin, no colors, nothing but the blank.”

Air woke up… surprisingly.

She’s stupefied by the mirror in front of her, standing still without word, looking through deeply. She didn’t see herself there. She didn’t see a girl she used to see. If there had to be someday, a different day from the other common days, she didn’t expect to be like this. She didn’t count on this abnormality, happening so much like this. It was indeed so that she prayed all the night to have a different life another day she woke up. She prayed not to have a boring day all the rest of her life. She prayed not to have any resentful day when she didn’t have problem even in such a weary. She prayed to have a life, not a linear one. She prayed. She prayed. Yeah she prayed.

Everything seemed to be easy for Air, too smooth, clean, order, settled, like there’s no trouble at all. And she’s weary with that, at the point she realized that life wasn’t superb because there is no such problem. So, that’s the way she prayed in order to make her life changed. And today, when she woke up, life wasn’t going on the same anymore. In front of the mirror, she couldn’t find herself.

Metaphor (Koko)


Posted by Creating Class 2005 | Posted on Friday, January 16, 2009 | Posted in

The wet grass spread happiness when they let flowers grow beside them. The wind whispers temptation when they blow every leaves on the top of the tree. And the rain gives love when it touches every inches the skin of mine. Rain changes every moods of people in the house.

Weather warm enough to be hold and strong enough to kick the coldness which hides in my deepest heart. I could find the answer until now. The answer of all my restiveness because now I’m in the end of a narration. The narration is about a life, the narration of mine, my life.

His angriness can burn every paper sheets. His sadness can destroy every mother hearts. His affections can bring tears away from every eye. I can believe with all moments of his life, why he could be an unfortunate human being in this world?

The barking of a dog like a midnight sirens that I’ve heard couple years ago, it breaks the silence of this night. It makes me worry. I’m feel very uncomfortable with this situation. I’m really scared with this condition. I don’t wanna see all the shadows. I wanna close both of my eyes. I wanna sleep again.

Suddenly each flower makes me wanna smile. Suddenly each falling leaf makes me wanna cry. Suddenly step of mine makes me wanna fly.What do you think about all my acts? What do you feel with my feeling? What do you call it? Love? Is it love? Really? It ‘s called love?falling in love? Am I falling love? O..God


Metaphor (Cuel)


Posted by Creating Class 2005 | Posted on Friday, January 16, 2009 | Posted in

The dew in the morning gives composure to the grasses; it keeps them calm when the breezed morn blows slowly to shake their balance. I am the one of those grasses expecting it to keep me stable against the wind.

The clock ticking says to the silent room politely. It continuously gyrates following its rotation. Its sound breaks the silence distracting the calmness. I do not know what I should do to prevent it going away from me because I want it to stay with me keeping my past.

The tune of waterfall makes romantic instrument asking all elements of the earth to dance together. I join them dancing cheerfully following its instrument happily.

In the dark night when all living-beings close their eyes, there is a firefly alienated itself separated with its group for lighting the narrow path with its little light. I bend on it staying alone bringing its light as myself flicking off my loneliness by bringing my own happiness.

I am nothing without their attention like the shadow coming in their group to peek what they do behind the building but they ignore my attendance.

Metaphor (Dezka)


Posted by Creating Class 2005 | Posted on Friday, January 16, 2009 | Posted in

What if one day,I see a mirror, there's no reflection of mine. The emptiness's stroking my eyes, is it lying? I look upon myself, no hands, no face, no skin, no colors, nothing but the blank.

As I sucked the last single of my cigarette, as I drank the last drop of Jack Daniels, I felt you. I felt the tasteless, I sense the senseless. It wasn't the same anymore. The combination of the nicotine and khamar reminded me of you. The taste; bitter, sweet, burned, I tossed it down all the way through my lips.

The buzzing of the bee frightens my day.
Zzzzz.... zzzzz....
Again, I closed my ear tightly.
Zzzzzz.... zzzz....
But I still could hear it.
where are you??
Something buzzing...
I find nothing..
Zzzzz... zzzz...
O I know it, the Zzzzzz comes from my mind, the Zzzzz it's you.
the one I couldn't describe but Zzzzzz.

It's raining again. The coldness freeze me like a stone in the edge of the harbor.
Now I'm a stone.

I know I'm orange but sometimes I can be yellow, green or purple. I know my nectar could invite you and this might be you who flew upon me, the dancing butterfly, harmonizing the gray smoked world with the combination of our colors.

Metaphor (Imank)


Posted by Creating Class 2005 | Posted on Friday, January 16, 2009 | Posted in

1. The black cat roared to the random people. Walking step by step through the street like a tank is ready to bomb unpredictable enemy.

2. A cigarette sat in my lips. One sucking change my dry brain and dry throat be a wet as a scientist solved his experiment.

3. I felt abnormal intoxicated toward conclusion of life like a rat sink in the deep water when the rose under me.

4. My heart was gone under her skirt as a sniper shoot the victim effectively.

5. The unpredictable of future was stolen the lonely boy on the corner of classroom like a brilliant professor to be senility suddenly.

Metaphor (Yayu)


Posted by Creating Class 2005 | Posted on Friday, January 16, 2009 | Posted in

1. My life describes the silent of a grapefruit that hangs on its tree. it sways following the strong wind which shakes the tree. No complaints raise from it though the wind erodes its stem.

2. I met him. I saw his smile that quench a thirst of a little dog walking in the dessert.

3. her question resonated from the innermost depths of the ant which say "Watch Out!!" to a person who will step on it.

4. I was taken by his sweet lollipop candy words which sink me in the honey sea as a little ant jumping to a cup of tea.

5. I couldn't feel anything or may be I didn't feel it when I stood around unknown people, even they are in the same environment with me like a stone that can't follow the rhyme of the song of the sea which is sung by the sea.

Metaphor (Reza)


Posted by Reza Anggriyashati Adara | Posted on Friday, January 16, 2009 | Posted in

Wind breezes gently from the south, caressing any object, dancing on its steady abstract tempo. Mortals could see nothing but wondering its beauty, imagining its long eternal journey, and counting how many lives that it had touched.

A leaf steadily fell from its tree, following the nature's music which was composed by wind. It has performed its task to give life to the tree and dropped to the ground with dignity of its short but beneficial life.

A tiny ant was running frantically on the concrete, driving by its natural instinct to find either food or nest. It seemed having no fear to step gigantic world with its micro feet. I wished I had little bit its gut to step the world. But I was too coward with my giant body while it was too brave with its micro body.

Concrete was staying still on its stillness, ignored by any living creatures which stepped on it. I wished I knew what it felt, thought, and story that it secretly kept for so long, about lives that had passed above it.

Butterfly wanders alone, leading by its instinct to find another nectar, attracting any creatures with its vigorous beauty, leaving envy feeling to any creatures who was condemned to live their entire life without light beautiful wings that it had. I was one of those creatures who secretly kept that envy feeling, condemning my own incapability to fly.



Posted by Creating Class 2005 | Posted on Thursday, January 15, 2009 | Posted in

A girl who named Mayang Oktalenta is very happy because now she is a senior high school student. She doesn’t use white and blue uniform anymore. Mayang finds her new world. She fells that she can be a better person than before.
When the first time she entered Global Prestasi High School, she did not have any friend. Now, she has many friends even best friend, named Arista Tikaria. She is a kind girl. She is lovable and always smiles.
They always go everywhere together. They share everything and give advice each other.



Posted by Reza Anggriyashati Adara | Posted on Thursday, January 15, 2009 | Posted in ,

We experience dream as real because it is real…”

William Dement

“Those were vivid nightmares. In there, I was usually being tied up with rusty police-like handcuffs to the bed that was covered with dirty bloodstained sheet. Strange, stroking smell of anesthetic drugs dominated the moldy air like you used to smell in abandoned basement. I remembered, there was always sound of constant dropping water…not…not smoothing ones as the spring, but it was such sound from leaking tap, which could drive you to silent insanity.”




Suddenly, the dropping water sound came alive. I looked around Dr. Karan’s office to find its damned source. No wastafel. No leaking freaking tap. So where did those maddening sound come from?