what do you think about us?

Our relationship is fun and hurtful at the same time
Wonderful and miserable
This relationship is loving, caring enough and also tiring
Its so amazing that i could fall in love this much
Its so beautiful that i feel like you're so important in my life
It hurts like knife
But also sweet like kisses
Our relationship is casual, important, spontaneous, complicated, amazing and lasting
When i'm with you i can be myself and even when sometimes i'm embarrassed with my flaws, you made me feel so comfortable





I love you

you are never alone

Football session was fun. And today i know a lot about people who i didn't really bother to know before. I was such a dick. I always forget their names and i have no effort to remember them. And after today i realize that if you give some time to know a person, you would always find their pleasant side and adding them to the people you connected to would make you more, er, human. Maybe due to my previous experience i find it always so hard for me to make new friends, in fact all my friends today is the people i never really plan to hang out with, and i never really had a plan. If i could remember most of my friendship are made of continuous interaction with a person, and i realize that having them around somehow make me happy, and i decided to keep them in my life. Hope they feel the same way about me.

We had a like, a session after practice today, which let us tell everyone a story about ourselves. I'm not a genius is social interaction but i suddenly kind of awaken this evening on the fact that, knowing people wont harm you, in fact that what makes you who you are today. You are not only learning from you're own experience, but also from your friends too. Sometimes what happen to them would make you chose a more safe route, or maybe you follow their step just to know if its really like how they describe it. Or maybe you can learn from what you would never experience and realize that everyone had their own kind of past, problems, backgrounds, fucked up stories and you would realize that everyone got their own dirty baggage. No one is emptier than anyone else. It makes you think that how each and every young people would fine their way out of daily struggles, and trying their best to create their foundation of who they are going to be as an adult. Whether your conflict involves broken family or just another love story, it doesn't matter cause that's what make you who you are, and everyone deserve a chance to be somebody. How beautiful life is.

And the most important thing is, you're life is not that fucked up. A lot of people out there who share kind of same story just like yours. And some much worse, but you realize that they still keep smiling when you feel like you're soooo down just because of some petty issues. Your life doesn't suck that much if you still have a place for you to sleep tonight. And look around. You have a lot of amazing people around you that would help you to be a better person. People around us is the greatest gift from god. Know them. Learn their stories, and if you have some time, be their friend it will never go to waste. Go out there and find where you belong, you would realize how different your life could be just by knowing some names, and not judging people before you even talk to them fucktard :)

for ever

Have you ever watch me with my earphones on
I would imagine myself holding a guitar which i wanted to play so much

I've spent a period of time trying to learn them stretched my fingers
Learning which string and switching between them
Its hard when your fingers cant keep up its harder when you're not talented
When all chords sound the same it is so hard for me

But there's nothing as hard as learning about you
I've give up guitar long time ago
But i'll never give up on the music of my life that i'll promise you

jump baby jump

For every failure, there's a success waiting ahead i always choose to believe in this

As it is what an optimist would chose to believe but as i get older

I found out that sometimes

Most of the times this is absolutely not true lets count

How many times have you failed in something today or this week or this month then count how many did you succeed

I haven't done it yet but i guess for every success there is at least ten failed attempt or twenty

That's quite reasonable for the pressure i felt every time i would like to give anything a try its like i'm about to take a leap over a river of burning lava with mutant piranhas and Jason waiting for me on the other side

Its that hard but when i give it a try

After i bravely muster all my strength

Like all minor character in books i failed or they didn't even write about my effort

But then when i try to count how many times i had failed i failed to remember all of them

Because its not quite a number not as much as i imagine

I cant even think of the one before this because its not even there

I haven't failed as much as i think i did i've only tried few times

But the disappointment the hurt we feel the moment we failed is amplified with loneliness doubled with each of our expectations

Even when it's not that much

Your failure is never your weakness when you failed you have the experience of trying

Much more valuable compared to a person who played it safe and did nothing

Let your failure tell you which way doesn't work

Let it be the mark to every wrong door you had opened until you find the right one

Let it be the ledge where you take a leap and even if you can't make it that particular moment

Know that you've already judged the height and distance

And ready to try again

interview

And there’s a room, on the 11^th floor of a building situated in the heart of a city. The city is quite crowded, because it is Tuesday and most of the people regardless of their acquired possessions are scrambled across the city surface to gain some wealth for their pockets, or something to eat when they get home. The building is quite big, the logo on top of it is obviously recognizable and the design looks professional. Not so flashy but when you look at it you know it generates a lot of money to people associated with it. The people who getting in and out of the building always look serious, sometimes exchanging smile but then they look serious again, when they get back to their phones.

And this story happens in a room, inside what I assume a corporate building, even when at this point I’m really not sure what do corporate means. In this room, there is a long table, specifically divided into three parts where three people would sit alongside each other. It has three chairs, swivel chairs to be precise. And the room is painted white, with glass windows which covered with grey blinds which limit what we can see, if we are standing outside the room. The room is cold, and on the table lays three glasses of plain water, with half-empty bottles accompanying each one of them. Oh and the highlight of the room is a chair, a lonely chair situated in the centre of the room.

The chair is a symbol, of how we could subject a person to our own criticism, as the chair couldn’t hide behind a desk like the three swivel chairs. Yet, it is situated vulnerably in the middle, without any chance of defending himself, from the three chairs, and the remaining invisible chairs behind them. And who knows, there might be a giant chair, behind all this, who always want this lonely chair to fail according to popular ideas. And yet we continue the story, as the time pass, three men sit on the three chairs.

And there’s a knock on the door, and a young man come in white shirts. He’s fine looking, what we could describe as a normal guy, but with a warm bright smile. The man who sits on the centre of the table gives him a signal to sit, and the guy in the white shirt follow his suggestion. If we look at the situation through the point of view of the young man who just entered the room, we can see that the room now seems quite big, but the three men sitting in front of you gives quite a presence. You can tell that by their look, they are not quite happy to be here, except for the man in the middle, who look quite awesome in his 40’s who keep smiling at you, trying to keep the situation as comfortable as possible. On his left there is a guy, which is slightly older and more serious in his expression. Undeniably he’s the one who gives out negative vibe the most in this room, with his unshaven beard which makes him look like not quite a reasonable man, when it comes to serious matter.

And the third man on the left of the table, the youngest, is not looking at the man which you are in his head right now at all. He keep looking at the papers on his desk, writing something, as the young man in his white shirt is not the first person who comes into the room. If the older guy with a beard looks like he’s angry; this guy in glasses doesn’t seem to have any emotion at all. He keeps writing and writing until the young man look uneasy but still keeping his composure. It’s just 30 second since he enter the room, but the pressure make everyone and even me feels like it has been hours of awkward staring and silence

And the man in the middle break the silence, as we get out from the young man’s head and watch this story from a third person point of view, which create much more suspense as we don’t know what the characters are thinking about, what they are saying to themselves. Much more like real life and I’m sorry if you don’t enjoy it, not knowing what the person next to you are thinking about as you are sick of it happening every day, and you know the world would be a better place if we know what each others are thinking about.

“And your name is?”

“Ahmad Azizi. Nice to meet you Mr..”

“Kamal. I’m sorry for the distance. Can you tell us more about yourself Mr Ahmad. I believe we need to know a little bit more about you before we get started,”

“Hm. First of all thank you for this chance to be here, it is a pleasure to meet all of you today. My name is Ahmad Azizi bin Ayob. I'm 25 years old, I graduated with a degree in computer science from Universiti Malayo and blablabla....."

“Aha I can see that ambition in you young man. Quite bold. I’m thrilled to work with young people like you. As I would like you to know, you are already shortlisted for our most possible recruit from the beginning. And I do expect this from you, so don’t worry, I'm not offended if you think I am,”

“Wow that’s quite a relief. Thank you,”

“Thank you Mr Kamal. Can I proceed?” suddenly the man in beard begins to talk. His voice displays a visible authority over the man in the middle.

“I can see, in your papers that you are quite a fine man. From this papers. It does look promising enough for us but as you know, Ikram Enterprise is not your average company, where you can come here and sit for few hours expecting us to put some money in your bank account, I believe that is not possible. Here you are hired, to be a representative for our company, and I think you need to display a much more promising value instead of just coming here and claiming that you are something from the previous employment, and we value nothing of your college degree. Here we want you to have the ability to talk, not to speak your mind but to talk your way out of the daily problems we have here, without making yourself look stupid. You should know when to fire your stupid employee which his son is needing 20k for his heart operation, and to do it without hesitation. And you should know when to take some money, and from who, and which names you need to say when you get caught. It’s not just about which computer has a problem; your job got nothing to do with any of that. Am I being clear enough for you boy?”

“Yes, and thank you for the tips. I hope that I can use that in the future, but I think I would try my best to stick with the job scope at this moment, which is if you are thinking about hiring me,”

“Enough with you polite ‘thank you’s, and now tell me, do you think that you’re up for this?”

The man in the middle takes a sip from his glass. He seems okay with the conversation between the beardy man and the young man in the middle of the room.

“Yes, I do. I do have the capability to come up with the solution with whatever problem that I might face if I have the chance to work with this company, and I think I have the intellectual capability with the best solution to every problems. I might be young , but I think I’ve started quite early for a guy at my age and I think my capabilities are beyond anyone at my maturity, and I really hope that would satisfy your requirement.”

The man with glasses, which is about few years older than him, had stopped writing while listening to him.   

“This guy sure talks a lot, I wish I was like him when I was young. Full of bullshit,” says the bearded man to the man in the middle, which laugh casually at the right time, fulfilling the illusion that he agrees with him.

“Hey. Tell me. What is our company motto? The one that keeps everyone motivated to fill Dato’ Ikram’s pockets more and more,”

The room is in silence for few seconds. Everyone in the room keeps staring at the same guy, the one on the lonely chair in the middle of the room. And he keeps staring back to the eyes of the person who ask him the question.

“I might be creative at this moment, and come up with a made-up answer which obviously everyone in this room know is wrong, and I don’t find it professional to do that, and it would risk my position as your possible new employee, I would prefer to be honest and tell you that of all the research I made to prepare for this moment, I forget to spend a few minutes to google your company motto, and at this moment I wish that all of you here, know that I didn’t mean to ruin my own interview, but  how forgetful a man could be as now I wish you can tell me the motto of your company, so that I can tell it to anyone who ask me the same question after I leave this room,”

The man with the beard can’t seem more disappointed.

“The truth is son, I don’t even know what our motto is. I would just fucking agree with you of you just say something that sounds brilliant enough for me. This company got nothing to do with its motto. If they ask me to suggest one, I would like to suggest one that sounds about like this “Sell anything with double the price and Ikram would love you” and all I think about now is how to get more money from each projects I handle without getting caught. So you failed the first test. You can’t lie. So get your ass out of this room and try to make money out of being honest. Be a teacher or something,”

“Ok there is something wrong here, are we being recorded at this moment?” said the guy in the glasses.

“Is this the normal way we interview people here?”

“I wish, as I know I'm not a normal guy. And I wish I'm not the only one here. Shut the fuck up everyone this is for your safety. I chose this venue due to the convenience of this situation, to minimize the collateral damage as I'm trying to do my job here. But this interview is fucking stupid, I don’t know if this is the way you do it here. Mr Beard, I know that at this moment you will assume me as rude, but trust me you will thank me for today, but first of all, fuck you for being so poyo and assume you know the world more than anyone. Shut up. I’ll take this gun out of my pocket and I want all of you to calm your tits up as I won’t shoot anyone yet. And don’t fucking mess with your phone I don’t mind someone going out of this room with a messed up hand,”

The guy in the glasses looks so terrified. The beardy man seems sweaty, but trying hard to maintain his cool. The man in the middle seems calm enough to stay on his chair. But neither one of them are moving.

The man in the lonely chair begins to stand up, while pointing the gun to the terrified trio. He then points out to the man with the glasses, while taking a notebook from his back pocket.

“Let’s see, Akmal Hakim, 28, Kajang, drive a Myvi, sometimes at his girlfriend’s house in Bangi, sometimes at Cheras, starting to consume alcohol few years, some pills, blablabla. Cool. Some details about sexual abuse in teenage years but we’re cool. Don’t worry after this you can go to the toilet to clean up.”

And know we’re in the guy with the glasses head

“Fuck fuck how did he know? Is he some kind of agent from a secret service? What the fuck did I get myself involved in I should listen to my mum and accept the job with the government ya Allah....”

And we’re out. The three of them can hear the sound of water dripping from the man with glasses seat, but the only guy who can had the authority to laugh in this situation is the one holding the gun, but he’s not. And he keeps flipping pages in his notebook.

“Ahah you Mr Beard. Mustafa bin Koyang haha I'm sorry. 57, a father of three, wife Marlini bt Musa, third property purchase this year, wow, and a golf enthusiast. Proved not guilty from the charges of killing Mr Tan Chua Siaw in 2002, by the fact that we did hide the weapon used in this case, making it a mystery for everyone until today, even for you, and no, don’t fucking think about it,” he pointed out to the man in the middle.

“Fuck you. Who sent you here?” the bearded man demands for an answer

“I promise you, you don’t wanna know. Now take this,”

He took out a gun from his left pocket. Calmly.

“Now I will hand this gun to you, as I need you to control the situation as I proceed. I will alwas keep my gun pointed at you, so don’t think of anything funny of I might leave this room covered pieces of brain that belongs to you,”

“I’ll give this to you and we’ll play this the way I suggest it,”

The man with the beard nods. He stands up and then he took the gun, while he give the young man, who’s now in control of the room a suspicious look. He then pointed the gun to man in the middle, who is sitting beside him, as the young man suggest him to by pointing his gun to the man in the middle, who now seem a little bit uneasy.

“Now in this book it is said that you are the primary suspect. And we couldn’t find any details about your previous record at all, and it is quite an achievement for me. You should be proud of that. But I think your time is up, and I know you are a bit surprised as we are getting better in our disguise haha. You would never think of this, in this kind of situation right? Mr Kamal?”

“I don’t understand what you are talking about, young man.”

“Hahahaha fuck you. How long have you been here old man? You seem quite energetic at this age. May I know where are you from?”

“I believe you are going nowhere with this nonsense. And the security must be on their way here”

“Don’t you try to fool me you ugly fuck. I know you, and you know that I won’t hesitate to drill a hole I your brain with this gun. Mr Glasses, do you have a stamp pad with you?”

“This man here is not who you both think he is. He might look like Mr Kamal but actually he is not. Sadly. You can assume that Mr Kamal has been dead for years, earlier then you know. This guy here is not him. This sick ugly bastard carries Mr Kamal’s thumb everywhere he goes, for official purposes. Funny. If you don’t believe me you can check his drawer after this, and to prove that I'm right I want Mr Glasses here to hand him the stamp pad, and prove to us that he have a fingerprint of Mr Kamal so that all of us here can be sure that he is an innocent man,”

And all of the sudden the air in the room seems heavy, both man beside the man in the middle realise this, and well aware that the man in the middle is the source of this disturbing atmosphere. The man with the beard holds his gun tight, pointing it straight to the man in the middle’s head. The man with the glasses is ready to hand him the stamp pad. The young man seems calm, and he seems to know what he’s dealing with.

“Hand him the stamp pad. I wanna see a clear one on this paper right he...”

With a swift movement, he snapped the neck of the bearded man and took his gun. The man with the glasses stumbled to the ground leaving his wet chair toppled. The look in the face of the man in the middle change, now standing calmly while pointing the gun to the young man in white, standing in the middle of the room. The man in glasses crawl slowly to the wall, silently, as both man are paying no attention to him standing at the perfect spot to shoot each other with gun in hand, pointing towards each other.

“Young man, we can leave here in peace. There’s no need to spill more blood as I'm only working for someone else’s profit. If you let me go you might find it a lot more easier for him to forgive you, and won’t kill your beloved Alia and Natasya,”

“Haha first of all, you kill a man in front of this guy? Fuck you, he’s gonna be traumatised for life. Second, don’t you dare to talk about my kids as I will tear your mouth apart before you die, it would be so painful you’ll be so sorry. And third, do you think I’ll give dead Mr Beard there a loaded gun?”

Gunshots. Ear-splitting gunshots heard from the 11^th floor of the corporate building, and I think now I got a little knowledge about what corporate means. The man with glasses doesn’t even have a voice anymore. He’s seen enough for that day and he wish he’s at his girlfriend’s house right now. Mr Kamal as he knows him is lying on the ground, with gunshots through his chest. Three of them. The young man standing silently on the middle of the room, reloading his gun, while mumbling something cannot be heard by the guy with the glasses who is now pissing in his pants real bad. And now he begin to puke as he realise there’s a dead body in front of him.

“Hey. Enough with the acting. Talk to me while you still can,”

“FUCK YOU YOU SON OF A BITCH. YOU DOG YOU SCUM OF YOUR DOG MOTHER I’LL MAKE YOUR KIDS DANCE ON YOUR GRAVE YOU COCKY BASTARD!!”

I can’t put it into words how fucked up his voice was. The man in the glasses now saying Allah non-stop, begging for god to take him out of that room. The man who is supposed to be dead are now on his feet with blood gushing out from the holes on his chest, and then he take a leap across the room to the young man, which is ready with his gun. He didn’t waste any bullet, as one of his shot scatter the brain across the room.

“Fuck me. They didn’t give me any money for my shirts you stupid fuck,”

He gave the bloody man a kick to his body. The bullet drilled a hole neatly on his forehead, leaving his face undamaged. This mangled corpse-supposed-to-be keep rambling on and on in what only the young man seems to understand. The young man takes a knife, out of his pocket, which now seems to ridiculously have everything related to crime. The knife curved weirdly with some inscription in unreadable script.

“I prefer to have this clean, but your mouth is a fucking disaster. Its either you shut up or I’ll make this more painful to you,”

The man in glasses can’t imagine retelling this story to the police, as he know the voice of what suppose to be Mr Kamal would haunt him for years. It’s not even near to human at all, not even an animal. It sounds like a pure evil as now he can see that Mr Kamal’s eyes is already covered in blood. The hole in his forehead only adds to the horrifying details. And Mr Kamal keep talking on and on with that haunting sound of thousands donkey getting slaughtered at the same time. He’s gonna be needing a long years of therapy after this incident.

The young man is spinning the blade in his hand while observing the man in a pool of blood with a smile. He then, with all his might, step on the man’s jaw, hitting it with his heel few times until he’s satisfied, but the man never stop talking in his horrific voice, even after his jaw was dislocated. The young man than hold the man in his hair, and then use the sharp edge of the blade to cut the man in his throat, and cut the head clean. He then took the head and looks out the window as he open it.

“Fuck,”

With a silent head in his other hand, he waved at the man in the glasses, who now on the verge of losing his consciousness. He then gets out of the room while still having a dead man’s head in his hand, holding it by the strings of his hair.

________________________________________________________________________

“Sir you gotta see this,”

“God, I don’t think anything, would surprise me at this point,”

“Got names on them, I can’t believe this either,”

“Lord Jesus in heaven what do you have for us this time”

The drawer on the table with the name “Mr Kamal” left open. Inside there’s numbers of fingers arranged carefully, each marked with names and years. A young policeman can’t stop vomiting as he wondered what the fuck happened on the interview room. The pissing-crying man is not a help at all. 

ready set go

For every person in this world who had succeed for every big names you ever heard
In television or internet magazines history books
They all have that one moment in their life
Where they can point out to you and tell you a story of how it all started
What inspire them who's giving them support how's their condition at that time
And i believe most of them are just like most of us at that moment
Where they think of themselves as just an average person
Yes we are all average but we are all given a lot of windows of chances in our short life
Remember all those little victories small trophies you win the right answer in class the right moment when you wink at her and she smile
All due to you grabbing it through that window at the right place at the right time
Its like a game of luck and life's the table you might grab the wrong opportunity
Or miss the right one or even snatch the right one at the wrong time
Or even a lot of small ones but never the big one
And you might give up and afraid of playing the game of luck again and just go with your life as it is and miss the chance of being successful
And remember
All those names you ever heard
In television or internet magazines history books
They all play the game of luck
And they win even when thousands had failed or maybe they had failed thousand times
Some might be lucky to find the right window in their first try
Some might find it in their 1001st attempt close to giving up
You might be lucky you might find it on the 500th or 499th
Its not gonna be easy as you already know the price is not for the one who get the second place much more for the one who give up
The one who never started can eat shit
So now are you listening to me? Start now
Write something draw paint create something that makes people happy
Or sad or left them thinking for hours or benefit them
Change something in this world make the world know something about you
At the same time you are learning the world
Be great be somebody great
Let them wanna know about you write about you
Let your name be written in history books as one of the important human being at your time
Let people learn about you even when you're dead for hundreds of years or maybe thousands
Let them know how much role you played in changing the life of thousands
Curving the shape of history on how they talk how they work how they think how they view the world
And at that moment you can rest cause all your hard works are all paid
You are not just a cold dead body
But you are someone who benefit others
With just a short period of lifetime
So my final question is to each and everyone of you is obviously the same question i've always been asking myself
When?
When are we we going to start?

sini bukan amerika

“Angkatlah please, tolonglah angkat”

“Please angkat telefon please,”

Sudah berapa kali dia call tapi tak berangkat. Hari yang panas membuatkan badannya berpeluh-peluh, walhal, dia hanya memakai t-shirt dan seluar pendek. Hari yang panas membuatkan hatinya turut panas.

Penat sebenarnya, padahal tak jalan kaki pun. Sampai depan rumah bila call masih belum ada jawapan di talian penghujungnya, hal ini membuatkanya marah. Di fikiranya belum pernah terjadi lagi situasi telefon tidak berangkat seperti ini.

Terdetik di akalnya untuk menghubungi telefon rumah. Tetapi selalunya yang akan call dulu. Ika lah yang lazim akan memulakan perbicaraan di telefon mereka setiap malam, telefon rumah digunakan jika Ika mahu berjimat. Padahal, kalau Ika mahu mengunakan postpaid telefon, ibu-bapanya tidak pernah kisah untuk membayar bilnya. Tapi entah kenapa Ika memilih untuk mengunakan pelan prepaid.

Teragak-agak dia nak call rumah Ika, tapi terpaksa sebab malam ni dia kena kerja and mungkin tak dapat jumpa sampai  hari esok.

“Err, kakak tak adalah. Rasanya dia keluar,”

“Oh okay. Dengan siapa eh, dia tak bagitahu pun,”

“Dengan boyfriend dia rasanya. Nak pesan apa-apa tak?”




_________________________________________________________________________________

Situasi yang panas dihari yang panas membuatkan hati menjadi lebih panas,  jika disukat dengan thermometer jarumnya pasti habis angka untuk berpusing. Seperti mahu  pecah rasa jantungnya bila dibayangkan balik, ketika adik Ika memberitahu dia keluar dengan lelaki misteri. Hancur luluh pecah seribu hatinya dgn fakta yang baru saja dilemparkan tepat ke lohong telinganya. Dia memulas throttle Ego sampai ke hujungnya, dia menunggang dgn laju selaju air matanya yang mengalir membasahi pipinya.

Tak sampai lima minit dia dah sampai depan rumah, dia terus ambil baju kerja, siap dan keluar. Biasanya dia salam mak dia dulu lepas lunch tapi nak makan pun tak selera.

Tak tahulah berapa traffic light dia langgar, tapi dia selamat sampai kat tempat kerja. Pergi stor, campak helmet dan jacket, dan dia sedia jadi hamba 7Eleven dari 1 tengahari  hingga 10 malam. Penat sebenarnya hidup macamni. Hari tak ada kelas kena kerja, hari cuti kena siapkan tugasan. Study lagi. Nak harapkan duit Ptptn memang tak cukup.

Dia memeriksa telefon mana tahu Ika ada call balik. Haram tak ada. Dia still fikir baik. Mana tahu kawan, ataupun classmates, ataupun mungkin adik Ika tersalah tengok. Penat fikir sebenarnya. Lagipun dia tahu Ika takkan buat macamtu dekat dia. Bukan baru sebulan mereka dalam perhubungan.

“Hoi Ami. Kerja main telefon je apahal. Orang lain ada awek jugak oi,”

“Haha lepak la Bob. Orang tak ramai. Bukan aku call pun,” padahal dia just tengok telefon yang tak ada apa-apa mesej pun. Tengah tahan air mata sebenarnya.

“Untunglah. Aku ni pun tak ada siapa orang nak. Nak ngorat awek macam mana entah pakai baju cashier. Sial,”

“ Alah mesti ada punya. Mesti ada punya awek minat orang chubby-chubby sikit macam kau,”

“Sial kau Ami. Hah awek kau macam mana, kau still kekasih gelap ke macam mana ni?”

Dua-dua terdiam sekejap.

“Wehhh janganlah nangis kat sini!”

_________________________________________________________________________________

Pukul 3 pagi baru Ika call balik. Dia balik kerja pukul sepuluh, terus pergi rumah Ika. Lelaki tu hantar dia balik, Ika macam tak terkejut pun melihat Ami ada menunggu di depan rumah. Lelaki tersebut tidak menegur langsung Ami, selepas itu mereka bertukar senyuman dan berpisah. Ami cuma mejadi penonton sambil duduk di atas motor. Lepas Ika habis lambai dekat kereta lelaki tu Ika terus berjalan ke arah Ami. 

“Lama tunggu?”

“Lama jugak. Sejam. Sekarang dah pukul sebelas,”

Ika meletakan tanganya di atas kepala Ami, mungusap-gusap rambutnya. Basah sikit. Mungkin dekat sini hujan baru berhenti, kata Ika dalam hati. Sejuk malam tu.

“Ami balikla dulu okay. Nanti malam Ika call. Bawak motor elok-elok tau,”

Banyak jugak dia nangis dalam perjalanan balik rumah. Walaupun dekat je sebenarnya, dia ambil jalan jauh. Takut emaknya melihat matanya yang merah berair kalau dia sampai rumah tak habis nangis lagi. Lapar gila balik kerja so dia pun makan dulu. Lepastu dia pun duduk dekat sofa depan tv, dengan telefon dekat tangan, sampai pukul 3 pagi barulah dia dapat bercakap dgn Ika.

“Ami, awak tahu kan kita tak boleh. Saya harap awak faham,”

Dia diam. Dia cuba ingat balik apa Ika cakap dekat dia sebelum ni.

“Saya harap kita masih boleh jadi kawan. Macam biasa. Macam dulu-dulu,”

“Tapi kita dah janji,”

“Ami, awak tahu kan. Saya dah bagitahu awak yang saya kena fikir dulu. Benda ni bukannya main-main,”

“Awak dah janji nak tunggu kan,”

“Ami, saya taknak pun. Awak tolonglah faham,” Ika pun terus letak telefon meninggalkan Ami. 

Diruang tamu rumah itu, bercampur-aduk bunyi tv dengan bunyi orang menangis. Tiba-tiba dengar bunyi orang turun dekat tangga, awal sangat mak dia turun sahur kalau nak puasa sunat pun. Dia terus tutup tv dan bergerak kearah bilik dia, masih dalam pakaian kerja.

Masuk ke bilik dia terus tanggalkan semuanya. Dia pun pandang kearah cermin, menangis lagi. Dia menangis sambil peluk bantal, sambil tengok bilik dia yang bersepah dengan baju-baju dekat lantai. Dia pun ambil baju kerja yang ada nametag dengan nama Ami dan campak ke dalam bakul baju kotor. Tiba-tiba dia terdengar bunyi pintu bilik dia diketuk.

"Ye mak. Kenapa," kata Ami sambil memerhatikan lekuk-lekuk badannya di depan cermin. 

"Dah sembahyang isyak Amirah? Sempat lagi ni sebelum tidur. Esok kalau bangun pergi ambil baju kurung dah siap, mak letak duit kat meja. Kalau bangunlah kan,"

hai selamat pagi

Susah nak cari tenang lagi2 kalau tak sembahyang
Baring pusing kiri kanan tak jumpa jugak bila malam terlentang
Sorang2 tak boleh tidur
Tak tahu fikir apa tapi tahu ada benda tak kena
Cari cari cari cari pun tak jumpa kalau jumpa pun tak lama
Sekejap je bersepah balik semua

All around me

And it is surely a good start
It doesn't just seem like one
It is
Cool3

4flat ahh sem ni confirm
Fekyeahh

Bubyee

Maybe the last entry with the comfort of wifi provided at home.
Will now be going back to the orthodox education system
Cho cho
Wait for me lil p

a cute story

When i was young (so young) i was a brilliant student. I moved to that shitty school around february and they brilliantly placed me on the second last class, well of course thats how they do it. They judge the student by their grades and then group them according to their academic achievement; excellent, ok lah, medium and so on. And how the fuck do i get in the second last class. Ugh. Anyway by the next year i got to the first class of course, and due to my outstanding academic ability they chose me to be one of the new breed of prefects.

Ohmy i was cocky. I feel like i'm on top of the world. But then next year, no more blue shirt. I dont know why but the teacher seem to be lookin at me as some sort of student who incapable of blablabla idk. Or maybe its because of the series of clashes which involves me and the discipline teacher due to my action pushing an innocent student, or does it happen later? I dont know i cant remember a thing. So until standard 6 i'm a normal boring student due to some reason that i could never understand, and my class teacher are so worried of me, due to the hype of getting into boarding school after UPSR, and their logic is

To get to a boarding school you need to be an active student, and this boy got absolutey nothing but his grades

And so i became the "ketua kelas". Yeahh. At least her intention is to help me at first. I can't remember whats the big deal or the problems or issues i faced, rebellion or famine or anything and i think i did all that is required such as if i'm not mistaken getting the monday's attendance list to the office and no seriously i cant remember anything. In form 5 it was more to finding the teacher when they are late or collecting my beloved friends homework, but for budak darjah enam, i think its nothing more than the stupid "Selamat Pagi Cikgu" for every time a teacher come in.

And one day, i cant remember where i was going or why, but i was missing from a class session. And when i get back to the class everyone was giving me this suspicious look, like they were hiding something from me. Ugh i should've realized it in their ugly faces. I ignored the premonitions as i was so innocent like babies in commercials. Then when the class ended, like always i stand up and say "Bangun~" and thats the moment it hits me. Everyone was laughing like their choking on laughing gas, and they do deserve to be slaughtered and burnt in a big ass bonfire. I was so like what(what?). As the teacher is smiling at me with a background music composed by their evil laughter. I cant remember the exact sentence but the teacher said something sort of like this to me

"Awak dah tak jadi ketua kelas dah. Tadi kami dah pilih (insert name) untuk jadi ketua baru"

   

And for the tragic memories you all give to me, my beloved teachers and friends, this is too funny i'm laughing right now, from the bottom of the wasteland i called my heart, all i wanna say is

Thank you

For it teaches me a lot of things in my, nahh who am i kidding

Fuck you

some people we know online

Before I start, let me make sure that are you on Facebook? Do you have a Twitter account or a blog, and I am sure most of you do have at least one, with the abundance of smartphones and iPads today I do not think you will be playing Temple Run all the time. If ancient people (yes, ancient) use the pen-pal section in magazines to interact with different kind of people around the world, we are lucky to have the internet for us to stay connected with friends and for us to widen the circle. It is one of the most influential invention in the human history that has totally change the way we communicate with people, at the same time benefit us a lot in various possible way.

Being on Twitter for about a year, I have witnessed a lot of things that need to be discussed about for the sake of humanity. I have never had any Facebook account, and honestly I got nothing against people there or still there, and I only use my twitter account which I had since 2010 recently due to the fact that I am always left behind due to my inability to ‘connect’ with people online. So I decided to be active on Twitter and it does not take so long for it to make me think, “Am I really filled with hatred, or there are just some people who need to go offline?” and I am sure some of you agree with me. And for educational purpose only, I present to you, the five types of people we meet online, or maybe more.

This humble piece of writing does not mean to hurt, to offend, or even directed to anyone. It is just my analysis of how people react socially on circumstances which require them to display their qualities to the public in order to gain something, like how male peacock evolved to have brilliant colours to attract females, we human develop a lot of traits which somehow reflects our true motivations, either to gain acknowledgement from people or just to be annoyingly visible. It is up to you to decide.

The Pageant Queen

Sadly, they only got stage online. Okay that is too cruel, but how can you not be annoyed by the picture tweeted like they have been scheduled, and how they are trying their best to make themselves look presentable with Photoshop, or Instagram for the lazy ones. I got no issues with people who post pictures with friends or family, but being an adult who is mature enough, I think we know who is trying so hard to get attention from the online community.  Yes, they do have fans which mostly guys, but honestly I do not think some picture in bikinis need to be shared with everyone. It is up to you if you want to share it with your loved ones, but to tweet your picture in skimpy outfit for everyone to see, it is like you are inviting some crazy stalker to your front door. And this plague is not exclusive to female; some model-wannabe boys also prefer to go shirtless as they search for possible mates ambiguously in terms of gender, and it is funny how they seem proud of their “shirtlessness”, which I think is cool, if you are a model for Giorgio Armani. And there is also drag queen which I do not think we need to talk about and I thank god I did not follow any.

The Bad Boys

Follow them on Twitter, and you will get latest update on clubs, DJs coming to town and all the parties they had been too. Maybe they will display some hints about alcohol consumption, or even drugs, which they seem to be proud of and they are telling you about it without any regret. They will make you feel like you miss something in life, like you did not party hard enough yet for this one lifetime. They will be showing you a sample of “How young people should live their life” and maybe end up in a police station someday. And their profanity is notorious, as they somehow have a bad word choice or maybe just limited vocabulary. Go against them online, you will get the best comeback or maybe even some replies that sounds threatening, but do not worry there is no need to go to any police station as they are just like us normal people outside who afraid of being alone. Pity them.

The “Makcik”

Some are really old, some are old at heart. Most of us want to be young forever but their choices are somehow against the norm. Their topic range from the latest Malaysian artist gossip, or just some girls who just got bashed by posting their racy photos. They are the juries online, judging you from head to toe, scrutinizing your every move. They will tweet some details about people they hate, and would react to other Makcik if they do the same thing. They will tell you about every place they had been to, every restaurant, and if you are lucky maybe you will get to see what they are eating at the moment, as we are poor and could not afford what they are devouring. Most Makcik is like satellite, they would orbit on the Pageant or Bad Boys, trying their best to reply every tweet which they feel they need to, showing their social status as only one-class lower than them. Most Makcik are single, mostly, and they would not mind retweeting tweets which they feel they can relate to with their sad love story with the guy who they stalk every morning, and much worse if they compose their own tweet which might be grammatically wrong if they are too proud to write in Malay. If the Bad Boys are trying to show you how much they live their life, these Makcik really need a life. 

The Politician

These rebellious youngsters or old peoples are what our nation should be proud of. They are so well-versed in politics, which interpreted in their own way, and they never hesitate to tell us their views, even when most of the time we did not ask them to. Updated with latest news and rumours, they are so full of things they need to say but too shy to speak on the podium. Instead they chose us, unlucky followers to listen to their views which are true somehow and we should really vote for them. If they work together, they could build a nation which is prosperous with their own nuclear weapon, but instead, they chose to fight with each other, try their best to outwit their fellow online Politician. Say something wrong against their favourite political party or leaders they can fight endlessly, even when you have stopped replying them due to excessive laughter. When they fight, they want us innocent civilian to witness their victory over their foes, but the best for us to do is just sit back, and enjoy the show. Never, I really mean it, never join the fight or you will end up being one of them. We should be proud of having these brilliant people and we should pray for their success as they would be debating for our rights in real life, not online.

The Preacher

Okay now you will label me as an Antichrist or someone who against religion and I can promise you that I do belong to a religion and I respect all religions and we all know that religion is good for mankind, as it brought a meaning and reason for our life. But the people who feel like the religion needs them to present it to the world, are the reason people avoid this holy calling, and I do not think it is necessary to stick to one approach when people clearly ignore you or maybe annoyed by your daily prayer post, as prayer are between you and God, not to be displayed on your tweet. Maybe their intention is from God, but the sickness in their heart distorts it as it is impossible for the message of the religion to be hated, if not because of the person delivering them. And for what purpose do you feel the need to display your piety to others, as it induce people like me to talk about you okay this might be personally directed (evil laugh) but it would not kill anyone for you to keep your mouth shut when it come to this issue. People will listen when they want to listen. The more you annoy them, the further they go the other way and you should me mature enough to know that. Please grow up everyone.

And now this really displays my disappointment on the online community, which I think could be better if you just be more cautious with your action online. All written here is just my general opinion on how people interact and establish their online character, how they want people to look at them. If you feel like you are one of the types described, it is up to you on what you are going to do about it. Just think, with the capability of the people at that moment, how scholars from ancient (really ancient, take example Aristotle) could be maybe much wiser then people in the age of internet. Imagine if they get the access to the internet like us, maybe our civilisation would be much more advanced from today. Or maybe they will just sit in front of their laptop like us, addicted to social networking sites. Who knows?

           

thank you

Thank you for the fact that
You're still here with me despite all my flaws
Thank you for always making me feel special
When everyone knows i'm not
And for making me a part of your life
And for being a part of mine
You make me happy just by being here

Thank you

hi

Hi there. When are you coming home?

a good friend of mine

And I say.
All my days has been wasted.
Not one that I went to bed,
I brought back something new.
I wonder how long will this last.
How many years,
and I'm still at the starting line
with nowhere to go.
No I can't stay here
for another year,
or I'll be dragged away by
the cruel reality of life.
Stuck in cycle that never ends
of being a slave to bills and banks.
With no dreams.

And I say.
No friend it's not wasted.
Everyday when you go to bed,
You bring back something new.
I wonder how many have you learned.
How many years?
And you're still far from the finishing line.
Got so many places to go,
or you can stay here
for another year.
You'll be okay- you'll be fine,
the cruel reality of life
won't do nothing to you my friend.
Just keep doing what you're always good at.
Chasing dreams.

half-empty

It feels just weird.

And weird and lonely.

Like a half of your chest been cut away,

leaving spaces like half-empty bottles

making hollow sound with every step I take,

and I sit here waiting for the time.

For the empty spaces to be filled
when you come back.

join us

Come get up get up you're missing it.
Cant you hear those lads calling you
to join them for a fight.
The biggest of all night.
Where's your shirt, go get everyone.
Bring your rusty brass knuckles chairs and bottles
Come come swing it all.
Lets shove those kids to the asphalt face first.
Let them have a good story to tell about us.

surrender

billy talent-surrender

intersection

heartbeat with footsteps, 

swiftly changing path

course two way observed 

expectations gone wild

tender brown eyes, 

and delicate pink blush 

come words simultaneously 

with soft sweet hum

ceramic brackets 

and colorful lines 

lips and words both 

intentions defined

captured by the presence. 

mesmerized by the sight

known first of the many 

might call it the start

once upon a time

rise against- this is letting go

start

Write.

Write. Write.

If you never start then u never finish. But what to finish when u never started? Questions. Question yourself when it comes to everything. Hows your day. Hows your life. Are you happy. Everything.

Then it comes to a point in your life where u start to question

"Oh boy, i've been living for almost blablabla years, guess how many years left for me huh".

Write.

Till the point where u didn't even know where you started, yet no one knows when it will be finished. Maybe tomorrow, most probably when you're least expecting it.

So to start now is not a bad idea. If not now, when?