3 03 2007

She’s running.



1 03 2007

What : Still Pending
When :
5.47 pm and a few seconds

Oh Universe,

Why are u dressed in black and white? Is this entirely a dream or are u trying to draw me back into another miserable cycle dream? Try eating? Oh please try not to waste all my efforts, can u? U would only get me into trouble if u keep forcing me to eat. Go on, please tell me something, throw me anything! Spell me blood if u must. Blood flowing out through the nose or the mouth, anywhere! If u don’t, I wouldn’t have the strength to feel u if u continue hurting me like this. It’s disastrous, can’t u see? It’s disastrous chronic mental disease, can’t u feel? Whatever definition the fucking word pain is…

I am still in the mood to live!


28 02 2007

What : I need wheels. I don’t mind even if it’s ugly
Why : I want to go for a ride and yes, I am ugly too
When : 9.03 pm failed to make me blush

Dear mirror on the wall,

Today’s afternoon, I saw my little dreamsindoubt walked out on me. The best part was, she didn’t say anything before she left. All I could see was she kept mum, long-sighs, feeling utterly disappointed, she then made up her mind, floating off to my cancerstick’s smoke, then poof she goes in thin air.

What’s left now is me. Just the oh-so-helpless, always-looking-bad me. Sitting here with the good ol’ moon, together we believe, true-good-people do exist elegantly somewhere.

Therefore my fellow comrades, do be prepare. For I could never guarantee any one of u that I could ever beg this feeling to stay in one and only same place for the longest time. This goes especially to clowns who fonds of freezing my heart then juggling magicpills and tumbling them down through my throat.

Sorry clowns, your final rounds of thrill and entertainment are over.

Instead of waiting a good but bitter friend to donate a good fuck to my one and only life and leave me screaming like a siren, I’d rather go back to where I once started. Talking to my reliable blood-pumping machine, with no lights on, then chase a cab, feel the wind, spend my solitary nights on the hill, squatting, making love to the moon and be a lesser stupid fool.

Before that, I need a tool. A tool to ease these strong pain.

Yes, I won’t give up. True friend, true love still standing. All I need to do is to stand together. With or without legs attached.

Be well to whoever u are


24 02 2007

What : Wave of Goodbyes
When : 4.06 am

Dear Sea of Hurt,

My head is confusingly spinning a haunted-web and it hurts me deep. Uncontrollably.

Whatever nameless pain flowing slowly are starting to move real slow-mo than ever. I feel so stuck, ackwardly stucked on the edge of this so-called life.

The more I tried to calculate, to understand the things around me, the more mathematically insane I get myself into.

Is this what Mr February have installed for me?

Shortlived happiness and unfulfilled peace? Is that all? Where’s death? Why death not included yet? How long more should I hang onto these invisible-enemies?

Oh please life, stop hissing! I’d rather u freeze my twenty-eight years of breathing and it than hearing me screaming, “Oh my God, no!”



18 02 2007

What : Peace is a trick
Why : Not yet a trickster
When : 9.03 am

Oh universe,

Something is distracting me and I could even hear it whispering in my head. May I know, if this is reality? If it is, how and when am I going to bloom, if I continue like this? The day I’m doomed? After I planted a tomb in my room? Tell me.

At 2 am, I’ve been sitting, lying, tossing, rolling on my Josephine for hours till I could see everything, everywhere turned twisted, grey and cold. When I tried closing my eyes, lights in the eyes turned wild, till it drove my head to the middle of nowhere, to think of a plan, on how to shatter my null-skull without being rescued.

My grey-capsule is dripping silence. I could hear it and it freezes my feet.

The deeper I go, the more I have a need to leave. Breathe leave, it is. Like a corpse diving to the six feet underground.

Goodnight and Goodbye!


11 02 2007

Oh kejam sungguh wahai engkau perempuan!

Dalam diam-diam, begitu buruk sekali kau kerjakan dunia. Dunia dimana bukan sahaja milik mimpi kita bersama, bahkan milik mimpi ibu dan ayah mu juga.

Apa lah erti dunia setelah kekejamam engkau sanjungkan? Dan apa lah erti pameran sujud-menyujud mu itu yang kerap engkau kira dengan jari?

Apa? Lima kali sehari?

Sudahlah tuh perempuan, kurangkan segala pameran tiruan mu itu.

Walau beribuan kali kau berwudhu hingga habis air di perigi,
Lalu bersujudnya sehingga dahi mencium bumi,
Ditambahkan penyeri komat-kamit mulut tanpa henti,
Konon menyebut sembilan-puluh-sembilan
Nama NYA dalam satu nafas sekali.
Tapi dengan kehadiran hati yang gelap,
Disalut penuh dengan racun dan hasad dengki,
Kain telekong yang dibalut di tubuh mu,
Lambat-laun akan membelit diri.
Mengikut segala arahan dan turutan para saksi,
Iaitu mata, telinga, mulut, tangan, kaki dan juga hati.

Benar perempuan. Itu lah hidangan ku kepada mu jikalau aku menjadi…



1 02 2007

It’s February and I am still here, having so much difficulty sleeping.

Still facing the bright monitor, “cut and paste” my ears to the speaker, humming gently to Joni Mitchell’s tunes with a noisy tummy.

Thinking of some things fruitful; bottle of strawberry jam, sliced grapes and a very long cucumber for me to lick, nibble and suck the night away.