Freeze! You are under arrest!

Dear Mr. YTL,
Thank you for your kind words the other day. I appreciate it a lot. And today you came in with a new hairstyle on you head, transforming yourself from Mr. Macho to Mr. Kid effortlessly. Just so you know, even you ditched me, I still concern about your styling, the way you look exhibit who you really are.

But whatever it is, thank you for passing me a cute look when we passed over each other just now.

I still like you, what ever the circumstances are.

Best regards,
ZA

Cracked Lips

Slight fever. And cracked lips.

If accompanied with muscle pain and severe coughing, I may be infected with H1N1.

I hope not so.

Rejection

There is a guy that I have been eyeing for quite sometimes. Last Saturday, feeling confident, I sent him a message on Facebook.

He replied with a positive note, stating here and there. And then I replied back, feeling jovial it could be seen on my writings.

Then it was a silent. He did not reply me until today.

I think I have just got rejected.

The Neighbor

I have a neighbor. I do not mean that I have ONLY a neighbor, in fact I have loads of neigbors around. Left and right, front and back.

The only neighbor that I fond enough is the one who lives at the right side of my house. I do not particularly know his name, but suffice to say that I like him. The kind of like that makes you wake up from your couch and pause the DVD on play, peek through your curtain and gaze down to his porch. That kind of fond.

I do not mean to be a homewrecker but that is what most of my friends would say if I develop the interest to someone's husband. To put it in a simpler way, I like them because they are matured enough to take care a fragile biscuit like me.

Well, curiosity leads you to a little Sherlock Holmes games I might say. So I inquired Shane The Hamster about The Neighbor, just for the sake of data collection. Shane The Hamster was reluctant to give me any details (just trace back my history of turning a family into a broken home), but then after a little chit chat over here and over there, baiting him that I wanted to know more about my neighbors, then he spilled over.

The Neighbor apparently owns an engineering company, specializes in what, is I don't really care. See, he's an engineer, so do I. The chemistry is already there, we just need time to make it to react. The Neighbor's Wife is a government servant, must be in a very high position because she drives quite a fancy car. Maybe The Neighbor splurged on her, but I doubt that though. The Kids are so beautiful, and the new offspring just bursted out from The Neighbor's Wife belly.

In the morning when The Neighbor's Wife set to go to work, so do The Neighbor bid his obligatory goodbye to The Kids. He usually shirtless and that sends some smoke signals saying "Hey look at my body, spinster".

The constant parade of his shirtless form, is my eyes exercise every morning. The Neighbor doesn't have that perfect washboard torso, just nice as a married man.

I am still stalking him.

Well, maybe I am not made for him, but a Hi is enough already.

Creative Juice

I have lost my funny and creative bone.

Fuck I need it Back ASAP

A Rat

Singular. One sick annoying rat. That it is so hazardous it kills you in second.

I wonder what if it marries another sick annoying rat?

A herd of sick annoying rats bred from two sick annoying rats.

Sewer pipe rats can never be Hamsters.

Though how much body foam they use.

I Don't Believe You

2 past midnight. A fountain pen in the right hand, a torn paper from the Moleskine in the other. It used to be chilly at this wee hour, but it does not anymore these days, so the reminiscent from the old days did not come right, you know, the thought of 'It needs to be cold and comforting because 4 years back then, it was chilly. And tonight, it isn't'. Awkward similarities, that is.


No I don't believe you,
When you say you don't come around here no more,
I won't remind you,
You said we wouldn't be apart,
No I don't believe you,
When you say you don't need me anymore,
So don't pretend to,
Not love me at all


Last night invoked the memory when you bid goodbye to me, the painful and soaring farewell, for a woman you married, and for me, someone who was left unseen.


To H.


I don’t mind it
I still don’t mind at all
It’s like one of those bad dreams
When you can’t wake up
It’s like you’ve given up
You’ve had enough
But I want more
No I won't stop
Because I just know
You’ll come around
Right?

Alicia B Moore

ZA

Abah

Abah, I know you may read this, with all the time you have in your hand, this blog has made googable for you, right?

It was your birthday yesterday, when you thought I would forget and ignore the day you were born, I will not, I assure you.

Remember the day when we were on your bike, riding up and down the hills, while my arms enveloping your torso, and we chatted none except observing into the greens, in between the strands of sun ray that penetrated right through many leaves.

You have taught me uncountable lessons of life, where it leads to be what I am right now.

For that, I have no better present than uttering,

I Love Y0u, the man of my life.

Dream

I have thrown my resignation letter on my boss' desk, and he accepted with no hint of hesitation. Two months from now, I will be in a new place, harboring my dream to be someone I have dreamt many years before.

This is the last 2 months for you to see the fair skin that covers my whole body. This September, I may look like Dayang Senandung.

This is my American dream.

Jangan!

A strand of eyelash drops just in front of me, waves down slowly, pushing its weight against friction in the air, following the law of gravity. The eyelash is so curvy, and relatively long, and jet black. And I start to wonder on how old folks associate this event with one kind of funny thing

"Kalau bulu mata sebelah kanan jatuh, ada orang rindu. Kalau sebelah kiri pula, ada orang benci"

Now I am in this love-hate crisis, just because I do not really sure on which eye this eyelash originated from. How stupid it may sound (though it sounds ridiculously stupid as soon as I am typing this) actually, it does tickle the worry button in me. With thousand of random possibilities, with unaccustomed thoughts on many people that have personal vendetta against me, or the chance of the one I love, hooked on me finally.

Well, this thought provoking does induce some sense of uncertainties, but I am OK with that.

Maybe there's no one hates me. Maybe there are billions of people love me (well, if that is the case, I must have bald eyelids by now).

This saying from our own old folks fluorish again.

And many more to go. Like,

"Jangan menyanyi di dapur. Nanti kahwin lambat"

Erm.. I rest my case

My Moleskine

I bought a Moleskine last Monday in this one bookstore somewhere in suburb area near my house.

And I have spilled too many secrets in there.

People should know me better.

He Did Not Come

He did not come yesterday,
and there were me and my agony
I made no calls,
to him who happened to have no balls.

And I asked a friend,
he worked so late,
trying to toss the fate
I did not care, I am still breathing with blood streams down my veins.

He comes today, with a weary look on his face,
For me, in his face, I find my solace,
For him, I find no one who can be replaced,
I love him a lot, no man can erase



To you Mr. R.

XOXO
ZA

The Closeted Daughters Of The Kaprovki's Family

A symmetrical X-shape faucet knob left a trace of mold by the water that dripped from the shower head above, the tapping sound it made reverberated and bouncing in the four-wall enclosed bathroom. Towels hanged loosely on the hanger - which was screwed intact to the wall, a trace of passion fruit bathing gel smell evaporated, filled up the air, not so strong but faint enough to bring such serenity in the room.

The wet humid steam emerged from the running water from the faucet - spiralling like a hurricane - filling fast the creamy oval-shape bath tub that once was emptied after Sady left the house, the house that Mr Abigail loved most, the tub that has soaked the body of the girls of Kaprovki, the girls that were thought to be the reason why the house was built in the first place, or the reason why this tub has been abandoned, with yellowish of soap sediment on the tub's floor.

There were many red dots on the wall, some of them so micro they were only visible if looked closely, some of it were so huge, not so circular, tattered shape, like a can of paint being hit by one baseball bat, sending a jet of inconsistent dots to the canvas. Except these dots on the wall were not chemically identified as human-manufactured paint, more biological, with pungent and acrid smell once lingered in the air, replacing the sweet smell of passion fruit bathing gel, giving the sensation of sickness like one experiences every morning, the sense of puking while brushing teeth.

Fred lied on the floor, with head covered in thick, almost clotted blood. He heard his breath brushed against his unshaved stubble, so serene that that was the only sound he could hear at that time, and grateful that at least he could hear the sound created by the air circulation in his body, lest this very day was the last day of his life.

And he remembered, along the line of script in the movies, and the words from the novel he read, that your whole life would flash back in front of your eyes, like a projector, putting good memories for you to cherish, to have the good thoughts before rest in peace (if God permits) for the rest of your afterlife.

And Fred was still waiting for that moment to come.

The Thought Of Losing You Is..

... so disturbing. Though I know that I had lost you almost a year ago, when you said that you would like to tie the knot with her, to get married, to live as a husband, the legal husband, the one that you could walk out in the street, holding hands together without being hunted with embarrassment.

Now a year passed by, and she is leaving. Away from you. And you cry, and weep, and lost on what to do. What I have to tell apart from stay strong, that you are losing one of the most precious gems in your life, and I am here to console you. Little did you know that this feeling has never gone away, soldered on my heart, with a shape of your name.

I am happy for you of course, that she is leaving for the benefit for both of you. London is RM6000 away. Visit her when you are free.

But jeopardizing your future over here - for the sake of following her over there, and end up being no one in a land of foreign - does not deserve my forgiveness. You could tear my feelings into million pieces, you could dump me after all the love I gave, you could say that you had to leave me for our own good, you could tell me anything you want.

But telling me that you are leaving such a good job here in Malaysia for a vague and hazy future in the UK, is unjustifiable.

I need this coffee.

The coffee you made of love.