Malediction

There is one thing I should stick into my stinky philosophy of life, BE REALISTIC. Like what the heck I would send a disgusting message to someone who clearly rejected me in the first place?

Maybe later, a sync need to be done onto my system. The body has faced a functional failure already.

Sometimes

Sometimes, in between loneliness and endless demanding tasks, I write your name. Like being hypnotized, writing your name subconsciously, and hoping you would come back to me again.

As what we've gone through.

I Believe
Yuko Yamaguchi

Samishikute
Kotoba mo denai
Konna yoru wa
Kimi no egao dakishime nemurou

When I'm feeling small
When it's cold outside
I don't know who I should believe
And when I needed someone special just by my side
Who was there?

I believe
Someday I will love someone who's by my side
Oh someday, my special one will come alone
I pray everyday

Someday I will love
Someone who's by my side
Oh someday, oh someday
I keep on praying everyday

.

.

.

H, I won't have you anymore, but I am praying that someone special will come by my side.

H, I love you

I detest plagiarism

My words do reflect how am I look like in real. But, having said that, I will not tolerate with any one who explicitly uses my words and paste them in their own space of writings like their own, like no one's business.

If you find my writings are good and inspiring (let say), you may use it back but do not ever forget to credit to zubaidaharshad.blogspot.com.

I am into originality because it does reflect you from both sides, inner and outer. Suffice to say, I completely detest plagiarism and any means of copying the materials here without the permission from me or crediting to this blog.

I am far from suggesting that I am into cheap popularity by asking you to credit this blog should you directly or indirectly use the materials inside here for any purpose. But looking at your words being manipulated by someone who claims the words are theirs, is like a needle poking up your throat.

I am happy if you use the material here for educational purposes, like I have contributed indirectly to you. My grammatical mistakes are everywhere. Obvious yet glaring. Maybe this is a good exercise for you to point out any grammatical mistakes here and you will learn a new thing. For me, I can't see those mistakes. I've been writing for years and I have been living with them for God knows how long. So I can't see them. But luckily I have a friend who is willingly pointing out the mistakes here. I am not fond enough to alter everything, I keep his corrections in my safebox and later refer as my Kamasutra.



And to all readers out there, Happy reading.

That Night In Bhoput, Koh Samui

"Hush dear. Dissolve yourself into my dream. And I shall dissolve mine into yours"
"Like two Autobots do that complex mechanical movements and become jointed and become a new giant Autobot?"
"Uh huh"
"Let me give you my biggest smooch"
"A little bit later, shall we? Then we can get a room, and for the past three years, you keep on telling me that smooches are all that I need. Come on dear, I need more than that"
"Like what? Shoving my ass with your tool?"
"Then where? You don't have that little opening in between your thigh, do you?'
"OK"

.
.
.
.
"I'm seeing someone else"
"I'm seeing Connor"
"Then, we won't see each other anymore?"
"You have the answer"

Sometimes, love doesn't need a physical expression for it to be expressed. Enough with three magical words that entangle two souls into one. And people do not see this as a whole, instead a phrase to lure each other into a scene of nasty acts, a scene that violates a true meaning of what Love supposed to be.

And I have fallen into this trap. This C4 was so invisible I couldn't see where I was and where was him when this thing happened. Affection driven us to a point of total perish. How I wish that night never happened, and we still could be together, and wait for the other nights to come and live in this love - though temporary - forever


A Khalid in Memoriam

Doollee Dolly Doll

You remember when you were a stupid boy who thought that you could actually get every single thing you wished? Well, provided you were a spoilt brat, that thought might as well become sensible in the first place. Though such sweet tangible dreams never happened to me, I found that you shouldn't be spoilt to get things that you wished, things that you thought will never occur to be well clearly visible in front of your eyes.

And then I get older. Or get weary by the time. Then the wishes get huge and mountainous and fragile.

Like filling up a latex balloon with air from your own belly, it gets bigger up to a point when you lose your breath and eventually have to let it free.

I seldom think that my wishes sometimes are not that illogical. For a few distinctive moments, I try to gather – why I need to bother with all those mind boggling wishes when I don’t even start to initiate my plan for a more logical wish?

Wishes could be my toys. It occupies my grey matter.

And it keeps on making me busy. What with plans and a perfect time for an execution, and a thought that I could grab my wishes whenever I think I want to, or when the time comes, or an occurrence where I can call it serendipity.

p/s: I should list out all of my wishes later so that I know what I have gotten and what as yet to be gotten. This is ultimately more important than the recent fuel hike, because this is the proof that I am actually not loony.

Later when the preaches gone, or maybe the talk on the streets come to the surface of everybody`s day-to-day talk, or else when the less vulnerable little boy says hello to a crowd of unknowings, there will be nobody anymore to look up and asks why.

Or perhaps shoot a discomforting look for the sake of behaving to enquire what happens. At least, I told to myself, please let your eyes meet mine because I am dying to know whether you are getting over me. Such a halt for an annoying moment to wait for an answer is far from funny to be told as a multi-million joke, let alone to be a whole-year talk from a pool of stupid jerks.

This feeling is pulling me back. Weary and distorted.

Or maybe I can put it intimidating, up to a point of getting myself into distraction.

Such things happen sometimes. It needs time for me to get used to it.

Or maybe, I won`t, forever

"Perhaps this is the time that I should come out undress. There are too many linens I have used to cover myself all this while"

Two Cakes And A Feeling

It happened ages ago. Before I knew that men are rugs for women's holy feet to step onto.
It happened when I thought that life was meant to be flat, when I frowned and remembered that enjoying the hours after work was defined as sticking up in front of PC talking to a guy that I hoped will spare a bit of his love for me.

And it was years ago that I was a moronic gigantic bitch who wailed on every blistering dawn wondering why the guy that transformed me loony didn't bother to text me 'Good night'.

For weeks and months and a bloody year, and from spring to summer, the imaginary love I had created for a man that I hoped would spare a little sympathy to me; crippled and crumbled. The love shrunk to unidentifiable super micro size to merely non-existent.

Unfortunately, I was the unfortunate spinster who thought that love I had created was easy to let go. Such for an unclever reason, I bought two cakes and a feeling for myself for a birthday that he celebrated with someone else.

Because I didn't really care that the invented love was mere an illogical way to express my deepest feeling towards him. Nor the unconvenient looks from the people who thought that I was actually loony for sobbing in the dark, with two cakes and a feeling as my companions. And not to mention the two candles melting the wax like a torrential flow of tears of an unhappy woman.

It was my entertainment and please don't bother to sooth me up because I don't need you to tell me that I am actually loony.