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Kan ku genggam bara yang membara
Begitu ku teruskan jua
Agar cinta tidak terpisah
Akhirnya

Mahu ku bukan kerana paksa
Senyum ku benar-benar rela
Resah hati lagi merindu
Di kalbu



Raja Ema

Tree Of Choices

One complete tree consists of multiple branches that protrude from a single strong cylindrical trunk. From the branches, come a number of little twigs which from them, sprung thousands of leaves with many colors. Green, yellow, brown. Not so green, not so yellow, not so brown. Alive, dying, dead. Deep down under, there roots that sprawl and entangle in between them, being pressed by the soil, looking for moisture and food to keep the leaves up there green and alive.

That’s a tree. A complete tree.

Don’t you think a complete tree is actually the manifestation of our life? The trunk, the branches, the twigs, the leaves, the roots.

Our life is a tree of choices.

That is.

And I'm gonna miss you like a child misses their blanket. But I've got to get a move on with my life. It's time to be a big girl now.

And big girls don't cry

Stop

A friend of mine once said

Stop chasing him. Stop calling him love. Stop being nice to him. Stop being dependent. Stop trying to be everything. Stop being the weaker party. Then he’ll appreciate you more

I wonder if that works. If you are born weak, if you are born fragile, if your heart is nothing but forgiving, you probably are going to end up in the same pool of shits all over again.

He sent me a message through Facebook. I don’t want to read. I don’t want to know. Because I am never born weak. And I am not fragile.

I carry your heart. I carry it in my heart

Don't lose weight. You are as good as it is.

The Chain

The sky looks pissed
The wind talks back
My bones are shifting in my skin
And you my love are gone

My room feels wrong
The bed won't fit
I cannot seem to operate
And you my love are gone

So glide away on soapy heels
And promise not to promise anymore
And if you come around again
Then I will take, then I will take the chain from off the door

I'll never say I'll never love
But I don't say a lot of things
And you my love are gone

So glide away on soapy heels
And promise not to promise anymore
And if you come around again
Then I will take, then I will take the chain from off the door


Ingrid Michaelson
Image: Darwin Bell, Flickr. All rights reserved.

Cherry Tomato and Oyster Mushroom

I broke up with him. I shivered literally.

I am glad that God has shown me what kind of person he really is.

Time to move on.

Belong

Can we not fight for at least a day?

Can I not miss you when you don't miss me at all?

Can you tell me that you were just fiddling around?

Can we be normal?

Like them. Like them. And like them.

Can we? I long doubt it.

Please bear with me.

Bridge Over Troubled Water

Today

Today I decided that I just want to Smile. Let Go. and Forgive.

I never know when I will be leaving. I never know when this journey will end. I never know.

I will never know.

I don't know.

For that, I forgive you. And please forgive me.

My deepest apology.

I love you.

Sweet Bread Crumbs

My butter cookies have finished. And Carrefour is leaving us. And I am sad.

The Day I Decided That This Is The End

Today, perhaps?

Becoming Twenty Six

I was 26 on the last 16th. The day was just nice, the night before was OK, the day after was like the days before. Extraordinary seemed only occurred in afterlife, not in this life I guess.

Except I was underestimating this year’s New Age. That I used to meander in the same hollow birthday experience every single year, I did not know that there was anyone had a thought about me in their heads.

It was just a few minutes after midnight on the 16th. Lifehouse’s melodious Storm ringing on the phone, on the caller ID was You. Picked up the call and all of a sudden the only thing I heard from afar was your voice, serenading the birthday anthem to my ears, wishing me luck and prosperous years ahead. I thought I had woke you up, but you said ‘Don’t worry. You did not wake me up. I set the alarm at 12.08 just to wish you your birthday, so that I can be special for you again’. The voice was drowsy and sexy, and I couldn’t love you for what you have done.

Of course plans were made, and we were no God to make sure everything was on the track. I thought we could meet, and watch movies and lick some ice creams, and had slices of cheese cakes, and sit under the moon watching the stars glimmering by the seaside. I was hoping so, you know, to feel happy again, after the bumpy ride I had for the past few weeks, riding the cars, maneuvering between potholes and pool of water so that I could not fall into hydroplane, so to speak.

But you called me, in the middle of the night, telling me I’m Sorry I Had To Work Late Again. But I Promised That I Will See You Tonight And Make Sure That Tonight Would Be The Happiest Birthday In Your Life. But you lied, you came back late, and felt worn out, and said We Meet Tomorrow.

It did not work out the way it should be. But you wanted to redeem yourself. I said OK, Why Not?

I am still the person I am. With the warm breeze of South China Sea, and coconut trees side by side, with two little kids at the little restaurant I take my dinner every night, with heartbreaking songs I listen to every time I drive my car, with fruity strawberry scent that lingers in my room, with bottles of shampoos and facial cleansers that cleanses my face on every bath, with unknown friends that say Hi to my stupid jokes, with persevered working colleagues, with pebbles on the sands, with a little canvas chair that accompanies my day trip to Cherating. With everything. It never ends to up to the point that I don’t know myself anymore. I am what I am. The designed ZA that loves you by default.

26 has become the age that I should take my life a little slower, and a little cheerier than when I was 25, 24 or when I was 16. Life is too short to make stupid moves, and to succumb to own horrid judgments. Loving you is never stupid, I don’t really know. Loving you is never a mistake, I don’t really know. Loving you is never making my life miserable, how should I know.

I have cried a tad too many times. I cried because I thought you would come back to me. I cried because I did not want the losses to be visible. I cried because I hate to feel alone when you have supplied me the Not-Feeling-Alone feeling all this while.

But when you decided to serenade with that song, and sincerely wished me that I had a good luck ahead, and telling me in the middle of the night that I would have prosperous years, I couldn’t help but to feel empty. I was happy. But it was empty. It was like having to listen to something amusing, and pleasing but in a way, it was reaction-less nonetheless.

We are going to meet up tonight. I just think that tonight is going to be just bland, and horrible, and tasteless. I don’t really care about the ice creams, or cakes or sweet smiles that you are going to pour. I don’t know what to feel.

I am empty.

Unlike Shayna in her email. I wish Graham the very best. Though he’s not here anymore. Our birthday should be celebrated with planting a tree! He’d done it. And now, it is my turn.

Hi Zubaidah

Hope you had a great birthday, and liked the card.

Graham’s tree was planted yesterday at 2pm. We went to the burial site and watched as Graham’s tree was planted. When Susi & Karl were young whenever we took them out on a trip to the beach or to the zoo, or the park, it always rained. When we left home the day was fine: as we got closer the black clouds gathered. At exactly 2pm the heavens opened and the rain came down very, very heavily. Karl said “This a typical Chadwick day out.” The rain continued throughout the planting and until the tears were over; then the sun came out.

I hope you had a better day.

Love
Shayna

Life is short, make friends, hinder enemies, go see nice places, and never stop looking for someone that loves you.

And of course, I wish I could be 26 all over again.

Can I proceed?

I wonder. Have you thought about me today?
Or am I the only one who thinks so?

Take me away. Take me away to your world.

Let me dissolve into you.

Let me be the one for you.

Let me in.

Please. Let me in.

Girl On TV

Listening to LFO makes me want to scream, and cry. And smile. And swim in the deep blue sea.

Stray

One cylindrical roller bearing. One metal block. 2530 engraved by its side. One transparent plastic box filled with cards with name and logo and address and phone number lays beside a stack of loose note papers, scribbled with numbers and formulas and incomprehensible short forms. At times, talks about steam usage, material candidates for 20" ball valves and centrifuge manifold sleeve scoring defects interrupted by the coarse voice of a man over radio, asking for a permission to release keylock for a motor of a centrifugal pump somewhere at 3rd floor of a formaldehyde plant. LCD screen is flooded with colors, shading cells of pre-formulated equations.

Everything seems bleak. And lifeless. Is this the end?

I have found Ali

And I am splitting up my love

Dick-less

I am going to smile. Because it is not worth it to sulk over blatant offensive remarks from you.

I am just going to barf. Because you sounded so coward. No balls eh?



Haha,
ZA

God Help Me

I miss him so much

Love,
ZA

Arafat

It was eleven. I woke up late on Sunday because I think the Mountainous Works on my table in the office can be put aside to give way for me to a little rest on weekend. It's Sunday and it supposed to be a lazy day. I mean, it is the day where you can just lay flat on your bed, looking at the ceiling, curling side to side and hugging a huge maroon bolster, sniffing the faint scent of zesty air freshener, and delve into thoughts and memories you have left behind.

The thing with Sunday and I is, I couldn't lay flat long enough to satisfy my insufficient rest. The Mountainous Works on my table have to be attended, and due dates are numbers with slashes of scary shits.

I bloody need my bleeding rest.

No you can't. Now go to work.

I woke up, went into the bathroom. The floor was coated with thick grime, the sink was a mess. Got out from the bathroom, walked to the store at the back, picked a blue storage box and opened it up. I rummaged through bottles of designers perfumes and shampoos, and I found your pictures. Smiling on the bed, screaming I Am Happy If We Could Live Together. Or was it the thought I made just to soothe my crippling emotion?

I guess I miss you too much.

Always wanting you.

Love,
ZA

Tennesse Line

On my way to L.A. looking into the rear view as the roads fade away
I've sworn off my past, first to last bad call that I ever made
Tell me how to make right every wrong turn that I've learned?
So this can all end tonight
Tennessee line just changed my mind, well it's my heart I'll follow this time

Daughtry

Amazing

I sometimes wonder if there is anyone would grab my hand and sing me Bruno Mars' Just The Way You Are, like I am the most special living being on Earth. Because I never felt so. I want to try once. I want you. To come to me. And tell me. That I am special. That I am. Someone to you. Because you are not someone. You supersede anything ordinary. I want you. I really need you. Right now. Right away.

"Cause you are amazing, just the way you are"

Good night

You are so sweet. Like an ice cream. With chocolate rice. And some crushed almonds.

Thank you.

Rafiee and Izni

If I were you, I could live forever over there, and never wanting to come back home.
Having life over here is depressing. Not that I am suggesting I hate this place. I need a new place to live.

This place bears too much memories. How could you ever move on when you are living in the unwashed memories? The smell, the scenery, the usual places, the never ending play and rewind buttons like hologram images, so vivid in front of your eyes.

How could you?

Day Nine

Tired, mostly exhausted. I walked on my wobbled knees, heart all shattered.

Masihkah kau ingat?


ZA

Day Seven

Empty. I feel just empty. I spare no more thoughts on you. It's amazing.

Woke up this morning feeling a little lightheaded and was in a pure realization that I didn't do myself much treat these few months.

Went out shopping.

I feel good, if not better.

I think I just need some more time to forget you completely. Completely.

Day Five

I was hoping some spark of hopes would come along this crooked way I had chose. You know, like hoping there were text messages from you once I got back home from work. Or maybe, some notifications of missed calls from you, because I really needed some kind of assurance that you still think of me.

Not that I know whether you are thinking about me or not, but I am trying to give you the benefit of the doubt that there is still a little me inside you that gives you a tinge sensation whenever I cross your mind.

But then I heard the song from Lady Antebellum. Been listening to that number for the past couple of weeks and I couldn't grasp a word. Well maybe I wasn't attentive enough to the point that I could grasp the content of the song. I was not. Downloaded the song yesterday, despite my objection to the mainstream musics.

Read the lyrics, in the dark, on my phone, and felt nothing. Cried a bit. But not hard enough to leave me in exhaustion. How odd. I wasn't this strong.

I am heartbroken. Heartbroken people cry so often.

I want to cry more. Cry makes me feel good. I can't. I just can't. I don't let go everything. I am stuck in the past.

Well maybe, I am so immature in this. I need to grow and be independent. But you have stole my 50% and I can't be 100% anymore.

So Long

The news was anticipated. I mean miracle would change things. If I have the chance to taste miracle once, why should I hesitate?

But this is never about fate, miracle or the wonders of technology. People come and people go.

I met him when I was in my 20. Barely known the existence of my own self, let alone the world I was about to be in. We talked, and he was attentive like any grandfather would be. I mean I couldn’t call him an Uncle as the age separated us is far apart. He was one of the sweetest human beings I have ever acquainted with.

Then we talked through emails, discussing my future and what should I do. And all of a sudden the emails stopped. I didn’t hear from him nor he replied my emails.

Last month, Shayna sent me an email. He was in a really bad shape. I knew this. I didn’t mean that I knew he was battling between life and death. But I sensed something was really wrong. Something was not in control.

And we talked through emails. With Shayna I mean.

And this very afternoon, she broke the news. He died, without realizing he would gone for good.

We anticipated this, and we feel good that now he didn’t even have to feel the pain anymore. Not that we know what he’s going through right now, but we believe he’ll be happier there.

As the grandson said beside his bed,

“He is now a star in the sky”

Yes, you will be one of the stars in my sky too.

So long, Graham Chadwick. You’ll be twinkling and twinkling amongst the Mars and Jupiter.

Love,
ZA

Day Two

It's the moment when everything stops to spin, and the gravity never goes downward anymore. You see the skies the color of turquoise, and the trees without leaves. It is the moment when you know that this is the end.

Goodbye.

Ditto

Forgetting you is like erasing a huge chunk of memories of my childhood. I can't get rid of them completely.

The minor details always bring me back to tears.

I am wishing this never happened.

Because I am too tired to think of you. And you have occupied too much space in my brain.

H

We used to celebrate your birthday together. In your room, with light only shone from the candles on the cake. Now you don't have me no more.

That choc cake looks delicious. I am happy for you.

Discontinuation

I can't breathe.

-ZA

Pretty Rain

It’s like opening up a book, with the whole description of how beautiful and pretty the world is, so so eclectic. More like dissolving into the rain - the sounds, the sights, the constant raindrops from the roof, the clapping thunder.

Maybe if you think that we shouldn’t meet in the first place is the good idea, then please elaborate why you keep on seeing me, and reluctant to let me go?

Cold

Well you told me that we could be friend.

I tried to.

And I failed.

I hate it when you call me and you make me special all over again.

Stop.

Please.

I beg you.

I am shattered.

Some Reality Check

Have I told you that this made-up pretty view of tulips and some greens with you and me laying side by side listening to each heartbeats will end pretty soon?

I couldn't believe I wrote that, because I almost make myself believe that this in real is actually happening. I mean the pictures are so vivid, and your images with your black tee shirt, and your acid washed jeans, and your sugary smiles are in front of me, clear. Like in HD.

And oh yes, I still can feel you stroking up my hair with your hands and get excited with the smell of my shampoo, and how you kissed my cheeks and on my forehead telling me that you didn't care the pimples outburst on my face, or how huge my boobies are, or how we laid down on my huge orange pillow and we talked about how annoying nostril was, or how nice the tea at Alif.

I remember when I didn't have anyone to talk to, I called you in the middle of the night, crying and sobbing and scream that the world was the place for mean people, and how bad I managed my bank account, and I missed you so much, I couldn't even breathe. You said, 'It's OK. There's nothing to be worried about and I am here for you, loving you every day, no less'.

And didn't I tell you that this all momentary? Yes, and now it is the time for all these to disperse. It's hard. Harder than I could imagine. But to quote you,

"I want you to be as strong as a stallion when the time comes. When we should bid our last goodbye. You're going to be good. With or without me. Because you always know, that I always love you"


I know. I love you too



ZA

Sunday Morning

I am pursuing my life a little bit slower right now. Works are amounting and it will never end.

You may walk slow, and not being afraid of getting left behind. Because in the end, it doesn't matter anymore who is the fastest runner. What does matter is, who reaches the end line without the need to gasp for air, and happily cross the line without feeling worried to take a rest and recharge.

Who knows what awaits you tomorrow?

Lost

“Everyone of us is losing something precious to us. Lost opportunities, lost possibilities, feelings we can never get back again. That’s part of what it means to be alive. But inside our heads—at least that’s where I imagine it—there’s a little room where we store those memories. A room like the stacks in this library. And to understand the workings of our own heart we have to keep on making new reference cards. We have to dust things off every once in a while, let in fresh air, change the water in the flower vases. In other words, you’ll live forever in your own little private library.”

-Haruki Murakami

Addendum

I have listened to your thoughts, and I have thrown it in the bin, and I thought I was stupid because now I know, that once I throw it, it stinks with the other dirty thoughts. So for that, I am sorry. I can't salvage them anymore.

Early Summer

Don't blame me for not updating. Life is good, and it makes you forget that you have abandoned some of the things that used to make you feel good. The search is hard. And tough. And daunting.

I have found one. Juicy, succulent, sweet, smells awesome.

I love you Nate. Love you.

I know you're going to leave me someday, but for now, please stay with me, and help me build my artificial dream.

Metal

You do not have to tell me when I am complaining too much. I am flaccid as a cooled gelatin in a huge transparent red bowl, wavy when being touched. I know. I remember the moment when I posted about going to hide in somewhere foreign, or when I wrote that I loved being able to see planes above my head, or when I resorted to go to Cherating and read books that I fond, or when life was too much to take, I went round and round driving endlessly until I got too much of the road, and the side lamps, and the honking.

I mean, sometimes you need something to channel your worry to. Or when your heart is too burdened with something you can't take, you need at least one thing that is going to make you feel calm.

I miss going back to the place that I love.

I'd do that. I promise I'd be good this time.

Have A Little Faith In Me

"Tell me why honey. At least I know the reasons"

"It is silly isn't it for you to flip on those pages when you know you are the one that I love most"

"I know. But I can't help thinking that you are cheating on me. I hate it when you replied my text with a single 'OK', or when I called you last week, you told me you were hiking at some hills looking for a spot for fishing, and your breath was so heavy I thought you were having sex with someone else, or how rough when you picked up my call yesterday and talked like I didn't know you, and you hung up on me when the I was dreading to hear you say I Love You to my ears over the phone"

"Remember peanut when I told you that I would be honest and I'd tell you nothing but the truth?"

"Ermmm"

"I did not lie. When I told you that I would be honest, I would be honest. It is the wild thought and the feeling of jealousy that brought you to the conclusion that I was having some intimate moments with someone else. Please honey, the last thing I would do is to tell you lies and break your heart"

"Thank you Sayang"

Storm

If I could just see you
Everything will be alright
If I'd see you
The storminess will turn to light

And I will walk on water
And you will catch me if I fall
And I will get lost into your eyes
And everything will be alright
And everything will be alright

Lifehouse
Storm
Who We Are

p/s: You, please come back home.

Kamu

"When is your last day?"

Sun rays like a flight of golden sabers stabbed through the gaps of the pine leaves, the sky was the color of turquoise, spotless with clouds. Air was stiff, and the weak waves hit the shore, almost inaudible.

"End of June. Anything that bothers you?"

Hands clutched, head on the lap, the smile was delicious.

"Are you going to find a job over here? Because when you leave, I don't know what will happen to me"

"You're going to be good"

"I can't survive without you"

Eyes on eyes. Moving things went static. Time felt like on halt. The world stopped.

"You will survive. But I promise you, I'll do my best and get a job over here. I love you, you know that right?"

"I know. I love you too"

The waves still weak. And the birds on the trees were chirping the happy notes.

.
.
.
.

When I think love has gone, it comes knocking up on my door, saying hello and smiles the thousand hopes.


ZA

You Mend My Broken Heart

I wish you could tone up a bit, and be a little sweeter.

Love you, pumpkin.

Heartbreak Thoughts

Investing in a relationship between two hearts may make you think it is an easy task. How hard can it be when two people are joining together mutually, and their minds intact with the affectionate love emotion they created themselves? It is awful, and it is actually, leads you to sleepless nights.

Missing the one you love is one thing, and the ability of putting yourself in control and not to annoy the other half is another different job altogether. I mean, how many times have you getting into serious relationships and deprive your emotion so badly you even choke when you mention his name? I am right now. What kind of fuckery am I putting myself now, I am not being able to tell you. Because it is hard, and it is tiring. And most of the times, it traps you red handed with a tad too many micro emotions, you can`t think logically anymore.

Every decision is biased on your fucked up mind, and most of the times, it is totally absurd. It scares you so much with a lot of `what if` questions.

What if I text him too much and he gets annoyed?

What if I miss him and I wanted to call him in the middle of the night and he gets annoyed?

What if I text him too much, and he keeps on replying me because not to hurt my feelings and all of a sudden he breaks up because he has been so tired of taking care of my feelings and I don`t even care his?

What if my plans on going to vacations with him and many other nights out turn out to be `my plans` not OUR plans?

What if he thinks I am going overboard by stealing his time with his friends when they have planned that they wanted to go for a fishing trip together?

What if he does his something that may hurt me and he doesn`t tell me and I am so pissed off that I spew him with a lot of swear words and he gets hurt and he leaves me?

I am so tired. I want to be someone that he likes. But I can`t help to think that maybe I am the only one who thinks entirely of him, while he enjoys his time and day without having even a slight thought of what I am doing over here.


Maybe, just maybe, I am thinking too much.

I think so. Because I hope, he loves me too.

.
.
.
.

When you love someone more than he loves you, it can make you a little crazy - Teddy Altman

Kuala Berang

Kenyir is the place where you can get these things:

1) Pooping in the middle of the jungle without feeling ashamed.
2) Pooping in the middle of the jungle while having a breathtaking scenery upfront.
3) Scream and have people to give hands to help you out.
4) Sun tanning while listening to the birds chirping, and to the shrieks of happy notes of the people with fishes on their rods.

I love Kenyir. First time experience is the initiator of all.

Absence Of Fear

"Here, this is a daffodil for you. I think your jet black hair needs a little companion to complement your look"

"Am I not pretty enough to your liking?"

"You are as beautiful as sun that shines on Sahara"

"Words play"

"Oohh OK. I am sorry. But I think you look lovely with this daffodil. Please"

"I won't. If you can't accept me, how bare do I look, then there's nothing more to look for"

"Get me a better reason if you're breaking up. Not over a stupid daffodil"

"So yeah. Good bye"

Shin Osaka

I don't know if this might hurt you. I don't really give a bleeding damn.

Wake Up, Honey. I'm Hitting On You!

When you think you have someone attached to you, and he makes you a little bit special by sending and replying every single text you send, think back, it may not last.

It is like the fresh fruits we after on top of a cake. We chase for it, and tend to chew it slowly because it feels so good, we afraid it finishes too soon. And when all the toppings are finished, you dread for more, and you scream because you know you can't have it back, and remorse creeps into your heart with a little hush of "if I save a tiny bit, so that I can have it more after this, I think it would have been better", but those are all words of regrets, and now what you have on a plate is a whole cylindrical cake, waiting to be sliced up, and tasted, and you still know it tastes good without the toppings, but it will taste a little bit different. Dry at times, so to speak.

Over time, we may learn that this is what 'being nice' is all about. The interaction between two people of maybe one side hoping too much, and another side just 'being nice'. And alas, the other side might not know that he is just too nice to break your heart, so he plays along, and afraid that if he says something that he thinks might hurt you, he may lose you. Lose you as a friend. And as someone he thinks of so highly.

Thinking back, it may come as a problem for both sides. One thinks this way, and another one thinks another way. The interaction is happening but literally not mutual. It is like the physical link from story to another is missing, and one may want to keep it at her pace, and another one tryingly to divert the conversation to a less 'intimate' one. In anyway, both are happy and suffer at the same time. But who cares when what they wanted is actually a string of casual chat to kill up some free time?

It has been a little awkward these few days. And I am leaning to him, to make sure that he knows what I really want. I can't blame him if he can't catch the drift, because maybe he isn't really thinking about it, or maybe he just doesn't understand at all.

I know I am a little pushy sometimes, but I can't blame myself either. I have been alone for such a long time. I need someone to take care of me. I am just tired looking out for myself.

Spiral

"If you love someone more than he loves you, that can make you a little crazy"
- Teddy Altman

I hate to admit this, but this is entirely true. There are a few things men do best. Smile, dispatching compliments and the most brutal of all is to give you hope, and walk away.

You'll Think Of Me

Ever since you found yourself in someone else's arms
I've been trying my best to get along
But that's OK
There's nothing left to say, but

Take your records, take your freedom
Take your memories I don't need them
Take your space and take your reasons
But you'll think of me

And take your cat and leave my sweater
'Cause we have nothing left to weather
In fact I'll feel a whole lot better
But you'll think of me, you'll think of me

Keith Urban
You'll Think Of Me

H

It was really awkward. Less fun. Disappointing at times.

I really need to date a real man. Not some fancy schmancy guy I met during safety briefing at my workplace.

I write more tomorrow. I think I may have killed my reputation.

Sleep Deprivation Equals To Apple Pie

It crosses my mind (at this wee hour), that when you can't get your eyes close and adrift in a good night dream, images of recipes and good foods always come uninvited. I browsed a website and dang over there were these gorgeous blueberry pie and a chicken pot roast and lemon-lime danishes and the list is further miles ahead.

I can't sleep. But my brain is entirely exhausted. I worked until 6 in the morning yesterday and once I opened up my eyes exactly at 12.48 pm today (Tuesday), there were 18 missed calls from the Company.

That is not the point. My point is, I can't sleep. And when I did a little rummaging just now in my fridge, I found a bag of apples, a few kiwis, gazilions of portobelo mushrooms, and a box of butthead lettuce. A thorough thinking has been done, and I am planning to mash up all the apples and make some pies. Finding blueberries here, is like digging for a little japalenos in a bunch of cili melaka. They don't have blueberries, but they have a rack filled with C grade grapes. What can I do with grapes? Press it and make my home made wine?

So with that, I think an apple pie will do.

I have to shut my eyes close. Tomorrow will be an endless meetings day. First meeting at 8. Great.

p/s: Where can I find maple syrup here in Kuantan?

Uncertainty

I have said enough I have nothing more to say. Walking this crooked path has never been easy. Avoiding potholes, and skipping over mud, and head looking up above occasionally - tracking for the chirping of the birds that maybe 3 feet away, or maybe on top of a tree at some hill with a narrow creek at the bottom of it -, feeling at peace sometimes just by dissolving into the greens, or have a glimpse over colors on the flowers alongside the path when there are tad too much greens to endure, and the momentary happiness by singing the songs you used to sing while dipping self in the tub filled with creamy hot bath, and the feeling of not to worry about where are you heading to when this crooked path is the path you should follow, though how hard can it be.

It may sound so easy, but I have been on that crooked path for a quite amount of time now, and it has brought both happiness and sadness to me. On a plate, well served.

The question of which road should I take, has been asked before. The contemplation of 'What if the road not taken?'

The matter that has no answer - for me - as yet. And I am on the verge of finding it, and I know, it may be long and winding, and it has never been easy.

You never know when you are ready. So for that, I am making a move. And I think, I am ready for that.

Dead

Life and love are like the complex version of Affinity Law. The proportions come so perfectly equal, and linear, and the intensity of life/love can be simply amplified by adding a power to the formula. It's a law, so however you try to deny it, you are dead wrong. Unless you prove to me, that you are a non-Newtonian, and you can't be any Newtonian can be.

Or maybe you can emulate into Churchill-Bernstein equation, and spread the heat love in various velocities!

Eyelid

All of a sudden, I am afraid that my eyelid's levator palpebrae superioris muscle gets faulty and malfunction.

How am I going to open it up and be able to see all this greenery, and to see you?

Hush hush this grim thought. It won't be. It just won't be.

Hey!

It feels like one of those nights before raya. Everybody is busy preparing dishes, changing curtains, vacuuming every possible corner, and rendang. Rendang on the stove.

I am cooking rendang right now. Yes at bloody 1.30 am. Going to bring some to office tomorrow.

Good night

In Your Eyes

Ben Harper as taken from http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/e/e8/Ben_Harper.jpg


I wonder sometimes, how people move so easily. Not to hold back and rethink about the cause and the consequences. Lunch box, head scarf and hope the size of Kilimanjaro.

Where would I go if I let loose my sanity? Would you come over and take me wherever you are? Would you hug me from my back and say I Am Sorry I've Been Bad? Or just perceive my faults?

Fly me to the USA. And I'll bring you to Ben Harper. And you'll strum that guitar for me.

For me.

In This Confined Space

I can't believe I have stopped posting over here just because I have found another place to write. It is like the moment of being a bird, wings sprawl open, sky and clouds above, all many other exciting things down there, taking turn to be explored.

This place has been a wonderful playground, like my very first entry back on 2006. Boxes, keys and trucks. Or that one night where I drove my car endlessly at 1 am in the morning from KL to God-know-where right after he told me he was leaving; and maybe the period when one annoying bastard paid a visit, and a few more visits after that, just to parade his bastardy craps; or when a reader asked me if I was from NST.

It was fun telling stories of my life, I mean my real life over here. The love, the constant complaints on the moronic little life I lead, the never ending short stories (forgive me for writing halfway, I don't intend to finish them up), the men I went out with, the story of H, A and many other alphabetical muses, and of course crushes of my own.

The deluded old bitch, that is.

It used to be when I couldn't wait to go home and write, because ideas were so much, and this idiotic life gave me inspiration more than I expected it could deliver. It used to be the day when I didn't care much writing names, or initials, because I knew there were only 2 visitors a day came to read my ramblings.

I could be anything that I want. The deluded spinster, the lunatic old bitch who claimed to own a beach (yeah!), the kooky lass who fell in love so easy, she could fall in love with herself then.

Except all of that are history. And history are not meant to be brought back to life. Because it holds the best part of someone's life.

This playground houses more malfunction swings and seesaw than I know. It needs to go through some renovation. Or maybe closed forever.

Alone

I am here alone tonight, gazing at the lotus afloat in the swamp in the middle of the buildings, and those clouds with droplets of water. How fun a scenery can give you.

I write more tomorrow. I need my rest.

I am sick with social networking websites, blogger.com, my neighbors, my kitchen.

I just need time to think. The serious thinking, the one that makes you decide the ultimate decision.

Maybe soon.

In The Air

You can cry for the whole day, but you can't stand laughing for more than a couple of minutes. Crying and laughing put too much efforts to be done. I need one kind of joke, or sweet talk, that will leave me smiling for a good few hours.

Or for the rest of the day, when the sweet talk comes to mind again.

Love is contagious. And here to make you feel good.

Good Riddance

take this paper and draw me a cute tree on top of a hill. and two stick men, with a basket of apples, and a stack of pancakes beside a jar of honey, and two bottles of milk. if you can't, then draw it in your mind.

ZA

Life of Pi

"....I had a peek at the Jamia Masjid, the Great Mosque, being careful to stay on the outside, of course. Islam had a reputation worse than Christianity's - fewer gods, greater violence, and I had never heard anyone say good things about Muslim schools...."

Yann Martel - Life Of Pi, Chapter 18


Interesting what they're thinking about us. Even written well in a book. That has been sold more than seven million copies. I am going to read this, alongside a cup of hot chocolate.

Later.

p/s: 'Fewer gods' is dead wrong. Fewer suggests plural. Our God is singular. The only one. So get your info right, then write a book.

Doomed

If I were to feel doomed, then hands down, this might be the best day that I have to feel so. Not that I hate changes, but these changes are so abrupt, adapting to a new environment would be something hard to be done. Lest they want to change it back as how it looks like a few months before. Or like yesterday where people share laughter and chasing the same scarce roofed parking spots in front of the admin building. Or maybe when you and I can talk with no barrier that puts the invisible line of a whole new authority.

People talk, and they seem don't fond of the idea. If the one that greatly affects your life (in a good way) gets what he needs to get, then the argument would look like the morning fog, that will go away once hit by the sun. This might be awful, as many would suggest. Seeing future as bleek as evening of thunder clouds, or like the rain of the typical monsoon at the end of the year, where worries washed away by the waves that hit hard the ocean floor.

I have the rules of surviving life as I always stick to my head. Remember to be humble, and don't make fun of people's deficiency. Always, and always be down to earth, remember, once you boast on the greatness of life you lead, some other are having better than yours.

I think I have to keep on surviving. Diminishing the anguish thoughts that I am doomed when I can't see the black hole as yet.

Wait and see.

Thursday Drizzles

The dawn was so chill,
And Gary forgot his bills,
Ellen said she's sad,
And Gary made her glad.

The bottle was empty it lacked of water,
"Where the hell are them?" maybe in the sewer,
He filled it up with a gallon of juice,
But she returned the favor with the look of obtuse.

I need to color my hair, it is all messy,
"No don't! You'll end up being a Weasley"
I am happy, so what's the fuss?
"If you do so, I will lose my lust"

Frogs

I did not realize that I have been talking crap and complaining too much. I think life has been like one of those wheels on my car, dull and used. Isolating self because he doesn't look like the other three, black and full of deep zig zags. Handicapped, and waiting for the perfect time for a replacement.

And it turns out that my life doesn't look like that wheel at all. When you run into potholes, and it ripped apart, useless, a lot more of them are on the rack. Make a choice, pick and pay. One mere transaction, and everything is back to normal. I heard once, that life can be traded with something else. It baffles me somehow. I don't have a second life to be the part to spare.

And the life inside this four wall cubicle room - with a white towel hang loose on a hangar, and a yellow christmas-tree-shape car freshener that smells like so much like vanilla hang free at the socket on the wall, and these pillows, a green oversize mug with the perfectly balanced milk-tea iced tea and a japanese table, and a stack of storage boxes - is nothing but a treat of pure serenity.

The constant shuffling of Thom Yorke - Thom Yorke - Thom Yorke is like the spacer that fills the gap of being lonely. On the loop in my car, in my room, in my long-gone iPod.

I drove my car just now, along the beach. The windows were all rolled down. I stopped the Thom Yorke from wailing and the song on the radio was one of those hits from Jackson 5. The sky was dark but glimmered with the stars, one different view from the constant downpour for the past weeks. It was pretty but I dreamed the stars were more on the sky like when I was kid, when I sat alone on my veranda, gazing endlessly to the black canvas of the night.

It was soothing. I mean the night when I was the kid. But tonight, it was soothing too. It was like the repetition of the same occasion, but the differences were 1) I am all grown up 2) I was in the car not veranda.

I think I should take a time off and drive along the coast of Terengganu.

Like I did a few years ago.

It was great.

And I think, this time it will be much better if I ask Kings Of Leons to jump onto my bandwagon too.

It must be great. Yeah.

Vendetta

I saw him. And I need a line of rebuttal. He did not break me. He was him. So did I. We were meant to be the way we designed to be.

If this what I am getting for loving you, then I wish you will have yours too.

Served cold.

Headache

When I stress out, I eat strawberry ice cream. And I lay down on my huge stripy, orange-y pillow, I stare on my curtain, observe the movement it makes from the wind that blows from my little fan.

And I will just lie flat. Thoughtless. Dreamless. Eyes wide open. Wishing that everything will be in place when I wake up. Hoping that everything is a thought derived from a scared piece of mind.

And I just perceive the sound as it is. Not trying to block any. I don't have the reason for doing so, I just do.

I just think, I have it all handled well.

I think. Well...

I Really Really Think I Need To Give Mr. Pavroski A Cameo, No?

You and I

Oh, let's get rich and buy our parents homes in the South of France
Let's get rich and give everybody nice sweaters
and teach them how to dance
Let's get rich and build our house on a mountain
Making everybody look like ants
from way up there, you and I, you and I, you and I


Ingrid Michaelson, You and I
Be OK