that being a quarter century old
would help me
endure the mental torture
and the emotional turmoil
of figuring out how to minimise
the blow
of breaking another person's heart.
29/11/12 2pm
70: blow job
To think
that being a quarter century old
would help me
endure the mental torture
and the emotional turmoil
of figuring out how to minimise
the blow
of breaking another person's heart.
that being a quarter century old
would help me
endure the mental torture
and the emotional turmoil
of figuring out how to minimise
the blow
of breaking another person's heart.
69: School blues
rewind ten years back
around this time of the year
and you will find
a student in her teens, and
fast forward 10 years
back to this time of the year
and you will find
a teacher teaching teens, and
both are in denial
of the fact
that school starts
in
one
week.
68: like them
why must i
respect people who could straight up lie
worry what everyone thinks until i want to cry
be forced to be a busybody when i hate to pry
work like an adult but be treated like a child
wear what they wear because it's in style
pretend i'm a tree, powerless and docile
listen to views that are far from fertile
have expensive taste and be in denial?
why must i
be sly
without making a sigh
and without feeling vile?
and why must i
do all this to beguile
and without asking why
like them?
67: the sole battle
at the end of the day
these rows of lustrous lots
these groups of vague vendors
these lines of scripted sentences
are operating
like an oasis
in the middle of nowhere;
offering
promises
to care less;
promises
that are careless.
because
as you get closer,
you would soon realise
your eyes wildly looking around to soak in the vision of what you are able to (par)take,
your mouth salivates with the thought of how that sparkling pond water would taste,
your fingers would carelessly reach out to touch, feel, things you have longed for.
all to satisfy
your natural instincts
your worldly desires
your own foolishness.
and yet, you make a run for it.
you run like your life depended on it.
does it?
does our life depend on whether we reach this oasis,
despite knowing that
we are still
lost
and
alone
in a desert?
perhaps we have lost sight of
or lost track of
or have completely removed ourselves of the thought that
there is
an untouched-as-yet lake
up in the virgin mountains
just waiting
for us
to have a swim.
may we all win the battle
against ourselves
when we face a mirage
in the comforting disguise
of an oasis.
may we all reach that lake.
ameen.
why are we killing each other
and ourselves
in a race
to reach an oasis
that is only a mirage?
these rows of lustrous lots
these groups of vague vendors
these lines of scripted sentences
are operating
like an oasis
in the middle of nowhere;
offering
promises
to care less;
promises
that are careless.
because
as you get closer,
you would soon realise
your eyes wildly looking around to soak in the vision of what you are able to (par)take,
your mouth salivates with the thought of how that sparkling pond water would taste,
your fingers would carelessly reach out to touch, feel, things you have longed for.
all to satisfy
your natural instincts
your worldly desires
your own foolishness.
and yet, you make a run for it.
you run like your life depended on it.
does it?
does our life depend on whether we reach this oasis,
despite knowing that
we are still
lost
and
alone
in a desert?
perhaps we have lost sight of
or lost track of
or have completely removed ourselves of the thought that
there is
an untouched-as-yet lake
up in the virgin mountains
just waiting
for us
to have a swim.
may we all win the battle
against ourselves
when we face a mirage
in the comforting disguise
of an oasis.
may we all reach that lake.
ameen.
why are we killing each other
and ourselves
in a race
to reach an oasis
that is only a mirage?
66: Mallicious.
i hate walking around aimlessly
i hate wanting without understanding why
i hate trying to find out why i feel so out of place
i hate seeing rows of shops like deja vu on every floor
i hate salespeople with fake smiles and sugarcoated words
i hate being manipulated by people who only care about making profit
i hate hating myself for spending on myself in order to make others feel happy
i hate the sights sounds tastes smells of plastic dreams i'm supposed to be drowning in
i hate seeing people pride themselves with things by the oppressed's blood, sweat and tears;
malls are malicious,
and these are just a few reasons why.
65: HappINess
they say
happiness
comes from the inside
not from the outside
"but it does help
sometimes
right?"
happiness
comes from the inside
not from the outside
"but it does help
sometimes
right?"
63: Where the heart is
a few of our paintings in this corner
a flower in a mug right over there
a bunch of pebbles on the kitchen table
sand and shells in a bottle somewhere
a black and white sculpture on the table
a lot of sunshine, with light in tight spots
a psychadellic rug to brighten up the area
some fans around in case it gets too hot
a disco ball in the middle of the fun room
a few places for books i love but barely read
a mismatched set of rainbowy kitchen things
mini garden at the back (no clue yet on what seeds)
a bed as if i'm sleeping on chocolate clouds
a colorful bunch of essentials for the bathroom
a few stained glass bowls with candles inside
space to geek out - where minds go boom.
a wall of pictures for the people in our life
a fridge of stuff homegrown or homemade
items in each room that remind us of Him
if all this came true, i know i'd have it made.
a few choice paintings in this corner
a flower in a mug right over there
a bunch of pebbles on the kitchen table
sand and shells in a bottle somewhere
a black and white sculpture on the table
a diy standing lamp in a tight spot
a psychadellic rug to brighten up the area
some fans around in case it gets too hot
a disco ball in the middle of the fun room
a few shelves for books i love but barely read
a whole set of rainbowy kitchen things
mini garden at the back (no clue yet on what seeds)
a bed with sheets as if i'm sleeping on clouds
a colorful set of essentials for the bathroom
a few stained glass bowls for candles inside
space to geek out - where minds go boom.
a wall of pictures for the people in my life
a fridge of stuff homegrown or homemade
items in each room that remind me of Him
if all this came true, i know i'd have it made.
a flower in a mug right over there
a bunch of pebbles on the kitchen table
sand and shells in a bottle somewhere
a black and white sculpture on the table
a lot of sunshine, with light in tight spots
a psychadellic rug to brighten up the area
some fans around in case it gets too hot
a disco ball in the middle of the fun room
a few places for books i love but barely read
a mismatched set of rainbowy kitchen things
mini garden at the back (no clue yet on what seeds)
a bed as if i'm sleeping on chocolate clouds
a colorful bunch of essentials for the bathroom
a few stained glass bowls with candles inside
space to geek out - where minds go boom.
a wall of pictures for the people in our life
a fridge of stuff homegrown or homemade
items in each room that remind us of Him
if all this came true, i know i'd have it made.
62: All about the dosh
money can buy you a wholesome feast
but not an appetite
money can pay for your under the table degree
but not an ounce of respect
money can get you something to warm your bed
but not to warm your heart
money can afford you flashy cars at the speed of light
but not satisfy the need for speed
money can score people who will blindly take your side
but not true loyalty
money can win over unquestioning voters
but not unquestionable critics
money can land you a lot of luxuries in life
but not a sense of security
money can make your world go round,
but not everyone's.
not everyone's.
but not an appetite
money can pay for your under the table degree
but not an ounce of respect
money can get you something to warm your bed
but not to warm your heart
money can afford you flashy cars at the speed of light
but not satisfy the need for speed
money can score people who will blindly take your side
but not true loyalty
money can win over unquestioning voters
but not unquestionable critics
money can land you a lot of luxuries in life
but not a sense of security
money can make your world go round,
but not everyone's.
not everyone's.
63: shield spun of silk
in these past 20 plus years,
i have been transferring
from one cocoon to another;
it's to keep me away from the dangers outside
they kept telling me.
these shields will protect me
by tightly wrapping my wings
so close to my body --
don't mind the lack of room, you say
don't worry about not being able to stretch or breathe --it's better to be safe
than to make mistakes, okay?
not okay.
i am claustrophobic
and i have been in here for far too long.
and yet, while i am tempted to break free,
another fear grows:
what if i tear down the wall around me
and i come to find
that my wings are broken
and i cannot fly away after all?
2017-05-29 9.35am
originally: 2012-12-10
in these past 20 plus years,
i have been transferring
from one cocoon
to another.
these fragile shields
will keep you away
from the dangers outside,
is what they kept
telling me.
these will keep you in
and wrap
your limbs
and
your wings
so close to your body that there's
barely any room
to stretch; there's
barely any room
to even breathe.
or to make mistakes.
but i have been in here
for far too long,
i am tempted to break free,
but
irreversible;
what if,
what if,
i tear down the wall around me
but i come to find
that my wings cannot fly?
tempting me
t
the life i could feel
from the real world outside of this cocoon
has tempted me to tear open
this delicate layer
dedicated to hold me
and my wings
as close as possible.
but now that i have been released from my shelter
i wish i could go back inside
i don't want to face the outside world anymore.
it's not that
i have been transferring
from one cocoon to another;
it's to keep me away from the dangers outside
they kept telling me.
these shields will protect me
by tightly wrapping my wings
so close to my body --
don't mind the lack of room, you say
don't worry about not being able to stretch or breathe --it's better to be safe
than to make mistakes, okay?
not okay.
i am claustrophobic
and i have been in here for far too long.
and yet, while i am tempted to break free,
another fear grows:
what if i tear down the wall around me
and i come to find
that my wings are broken
and i cannot fly away after all?
2017-05-29 9.35am
originally: 2012-12-10
61: Some and Others (draft)
when reality seems too hard to take
and fantasy is too easy to make,
there are plenty of ways
to run away:
some stick needles in their flesh,
some need their fix oftoxic gases,
some just want to be left alone,
some won't stop swiping for dresses,
some stuff their faces like there's no tomorrow
some simply drink to forget
some like scarring their birthday suit
some live only for their pets
some treat roads as if then own them
some just never stop crying
some beat up others to feel better
some just cannot stop lying
some hang onto people they hate
some just cannot commit
some are in their own little world
some always need another hit
some keep trying to take their own lives
some are afraid to leave their room
some suddenly stop talking completely
some keep preparing for the ultimate doom
some start talking with inanimate things
some keep staring into space
some sniff powdered flakes
some keep failing to find a place
to call their own.
because if where we belong is where our heart is,
then some of us just don't feel like we have a home.
but others keep fighting on,
and many continue to pray
for better days and for better pays,
for sincere 'okays' and heartfelt 'heys';
because there's no reason not to, they say,
cuz things will inevitably go your way
if you chin up and keep your frown at bay;
you'll see the light too, someday.
2012-12-12 3.46am
if where we belong is where our heart is,
then some of us don't really have a home.
but
there are those who fight on anyway
and many others continue to pray:
for better days,
for better pays,
to have winters less grey,
to work less, more play.
there's no reason, they say,
to throw your life away;
things will inevitably go your way.
everything will be okay
if you chin up and keep your frown at bay,
you'll see the light too, someday.
and fantasy is too easy to make,
there are plenty of ways
to run away:
some stick needles in their flesh,
some need their fix of
some just want to be left alone,
some won't stop swiping for dresses,
some stuff their faces like there's no tomorrow
some simply drink to forget
some like scarring their birthday suit
some live only for their pets
some treat roads as if then own them
some just never stop crying
some beat up others to feel better
some just cannot stop lying
some hang onto people they hate
some just cannot commit
some are in their own little world
some always need another hit
some keep trying to take their own lives
some are afraid to leave their room
some suddenly stop talking completely
some keep preparing for the ultimate doom
some start talking with inanimate things
some keep staring into space
some sniff powdered flakes
some keep failing to find a place
to call their own.
because if where we belong is where our heart is,
then some of us just don't feel like we have a home.
but others keep fighting on,
and many continue to pray
for better days and for better pays,
for sincere 'okays' and heartfelt 'heys';
because there's no reason not to, they say,
cuz things will inevitably go your way
if you chin up and keep your frown at bay;
you'll see the light too, someday.
2012-12-12 3.46am
if where we belong is where our heart is,
then some of us don't really have a home.
but
there are those who fight on anyway
and many others continue to pray:
for better days,
for better pays,
to have winters less grey,
to work less, more play.
there's no reason, they say,
to throw your life away;
things will inevitably go your way.
everything will be okay
if you chin up and keep your frown at bay,
you'll see the light too, someday.
60: estranger
stranger
th/æ/n fiction,
stranger
fiction-worthy, th/É›/n
th/æ/n fiction,
stranger
th/É›/n reality,
stranger(,)
th/æ/(ɛ)/n everything
i thought i knew
stranger(,)
th/æ/(ɛ)/n everything
i thought i knew
(about you) is
fiction-worthy, th/É›/n
reality sinks in, th/æ/t
you
are
(/É™/) stranger.
- 8/12/12 2.37pm
are
(/É™/) stranger.
- 8/12/12 2.37pm
stranger
th/æ/n fiction,
stranger
th/æ/n reality,
stranger
th/æ/n everything
i thought
i knew
is the sudden awareness that
you
are
(/É™/) stranger.
- 8/12/12, 2pm
th/æ/n fiction,
stranger
th/æ/n reality,
stranger
th/æ/n everything
i thought
i knew
is the sudden awareness that
you
are
(/É™/) stranger.
- 8/12/12, 2pm
59: run away
i feel bad
not because
i
had
i
had
reciprocated
mistreated
laughed
laughed
smiled
cried.
i feel bad
because
i
i
fear
being
dispensable
dismissable
disposable.
being
dispensable
dismissable
disposable.
i feel bad
because
i
would
rather
disappear
than
confront.
this is how i save my heart.
this is how weak i am.
and this is why
i
always
flee.
58: why i am a feminist
i am a feminist
because
They keep reminding me
by touch
by humour
by education
by interaction
by observation
by prescribed obligations
that
it's a man's world out there,
and men and women
i am told
are as different as night and day
and we need to RESPECT that
men are the decision-makers --
women should only be drones --
because women can't lead, only follow;
we need to just stfu because we're hollow,
and if we disagree,
they'll make damn sure there'll be sorrow
because we're only good if we can blow,
right?
no,
i don't hate men.
i just don't trust them.
because
They keep reminding me
by touch
by humour
by education
by interaction
by observation
by prescribed obligations
that
it's a man's world out there,
and men and women
i am told
are as different as night and day
and we need to RESPECT that
men are the decision-makers --
women should only be drones --
because women can't lead, only follow;
we need to just stfu because we're hollow,
and if we disagree,
they'll make damn sure there'll be sorrow
because we're only good if we can blow,
right?
no,
i don't hate men.
i just don't trust them.
56: into thin air
would they notice, if
i disappeared into thin
air? no, i doubt it.
i disappeared into thin
air? no, i doubt it.
unworthy of being visible in their eyes.
55: pointblank
What is the point of
having both eyes open when
you choose to be blind?
What is the point of
having a heart and mind when
you keep them confined?
having both eyes open when
you choose to be blind?
What is the point of
having a heart and mind when
you keep them confined?
54: i surprise myself sometimes I
he asked, "you really
wanna know?". i freeze, inhale
sharply. do i?
wanna know?". i freeze, inhale
sharply. do i?
in the car, there's not much you can't see or are able to hear. or do. or hide.
53: Disabled
Sure, she can't see, but
she can read, hear and feel wordsfrom the Beloved.
We can't understand
God's words with our fingertips,
so who's handicapped?
inspired by a blind girl at a tafseer class i sometimes attend. she was sitting in front of me, and was intently listening to the ustaz explaining about the surah we were learning during the session while running her fingers around a seemingly blank page of a thick book. upon closer look, i realised it was a braille quran.
i have been blessed with the gift of sight, and i can read quranic words anywhere if i wanted to; what's my excuse not to? :(
52: Submerged
Somehow,
I find myself in the middle
of the sunken fields of Despair
again.
But I am not stationary.
And I am not alone.
Because the weight of
pent-up tears and
the wrench of
dark undercurrents
I find myself in the middle
of the sunken fields of Despair
again.
But I am not stationary.
And I am not alone.
Because the weight of
pent-up tears and
the wrench of
dark undercurrents
make me sink
faster, deeper
faster, deeper
into the overbrimmed
realms of Dysphoria,
realms of Dysphoria,
the dystopic home of
the rejected,
the tormented,
the dejected,
the tormented,
the dejected,
the fragmented.
Here is where
you will find those
who are in want of
who are in want of
a teaspoon of Concern,
a big pinch of Gratitude,
a handful of Appreciation,
a morsel of Happiness,
a sprinkle of Hope;
from those whom
they care about the most
they care about the most
(from those who
care about them the least).
care about them the least).
Struggling together in
solitude: suffocating in this
sea of hot ever-flowing tears and
solitude: suffocating in this
sea of hot ever-flowing tears and
sobs of endless desperation from being
souls trapped in lucklustre, unfulfilled lives
still trying to seek someone who understands, to
save us from ourselves. But there is nowhere to go but
Down.
save us from ourselves. But there is nowhere to go but
Down.
And the lower I go,
the more I give in
the more I give up
the less I give a fuck
about the world.
About all this.
About all this.
Will this go on forever? Will this abruptly end?
Will this just end up being a nightmare,
where I wake up drenched in my own sweat?
where I wake up drenched in my own sweat?
And ah, what if I'm able to save myself
But am unable to save the others,
especially those who dragged
me all the way down here?
me all the way down here?
Do I leave them?
Not an option.
Not an option.
I couldn't
I can't
in the middle
of the sunken
fields of
Despair,
the weight of
pent-up tears and
the wrench of
dark undercurrents
of the sunken
fields of
Despair,
the weight of
pent-up tears and
the wrench of
dark undercurrents
make me sink
faster, deeper
faster, deeper
into the overbrimmed
realms of Dysphoria,
realms of Dysphoria,
the dystopic residence of
the rejected,
the tormented,
the dejected,
the tormented,
the dejected,
the fragmented.
Here is where
you will find those who
lack and are in want of
a teaspoon of Concern,
a big pinch of Gratitude,
a handful of Appreciation,
a morsel of Happiness,
a sprinkle of Hope;
from those whom
they care about the most
they care about the most
(from those who
care about them the least).
care about them the least).
So I
suffocate in this
suffocate in this
sea of tears as the
sighs of desperation from
souls trapped in lucklustre lives
seeking those who can try to understand.
But there seems to be nowhere to go but down.
And the lower I go,
the more I give in
the more I give up
the less I give a fuck
about the world.
About all this.
About all this.
Will this go on forever? Will this abruptly end?
Will this just end up being a nightmare,
where I wake up drenched in my own sweat?
where I wake up drenched in my own sweat?
And ah, what if I'm able to save myself
But am unable to save the others,
especially those who dragged
me all the way down here?
me all the way down here?
Do I leave them?
Not an option.
Not an option.
I couldn't
I can't
51: who i really am
from the depths of my soul,
at the bottom of my heart,
inside the core of my mind,
underneath it all,
i am
afraid of being aloneof being left alone
of being left behind
of being left undone;
afraid of being apart
of being broken apart
of being broken inside
of being broken hearted;
afraid of being unloved
of being eventually unloved
of being eventually ignored
of being eventually forgotten;
afraid of being disappointed
of being predictably disappointed
of being predictably disappointing
of being predictably unneeded.
these 'irrational' fears
guide me
restrict me
control me
force me
to
do the things i do
think the way i think
feel the crap i feel.
from the depths of my soul,
at the bottom of my heart,
at the bottom of my heart,
inside the core of my mind,
underneath it all,
i am
Sca(r)red
50: hard to heart talk
the words
stuttering out
of this vessel containing every cell of my being
are jumbled, just like
how they are in my head
(scrambled),
as i absentmindedly twirl my fingers
around the tassels of my scarf,
my subconscious obviously trying to untangle
the knots
in my covered hair
and in my guarded heart.
these thoughts
have caused me to be
in shambles. i feel enshackled, so i must
apologise in advance if i bore you to death -- i might just
ramble on about all these things
that i was too afraid to say before;
i need to be cautious,
i remind myself:
the things i say can never ever be unsaid.
but to unfeel the things i have felt
is just as hard to stomach.
and so i have decided
that i have no other choice
but to mouth out what has ruffled my feathers
(not just off-late) --
so that you would understand me better.
do you, now?
or will i forever misunderstand
and forever be misunderstood?
stuttering out
of this vessel containing every cell of my being
are jumbled, just like
how they are in my head
(scrambled),
as i absentmindedly twirl my fingers
around the tassels of my scarf,
my subconscious obviously trying to untangle
the knots
in my covered hair
and in my guarded heart.
these thoughts
have caused me to be
in shambles. i feel enshackled, so i must
apologise in advance if i bore you to death -- i might just
ramble on about all these things
that i was too afraid to say before;
i need to be cautious,
i remind myself:
the things i say can never ever be unsaid.
but to unfeel the things i have felt
is just as hard to stomach.
and so i have decided
that i have no other choice
but to mouth out what has ruffled my feathers
(not just off-late) --
so that you would understand me better.
do you, now?
or will i forever misunderstand
and forever be misunderstood?
48: reaching mars
finalised:
in this vast space of lights and blackholes galore
i'm an estranged loner, nothing more than a bore
because to call me a venus just doesn't quite cut it,
i'm more a pluto, of quite a different composite:
i'm foreign, icy and physically out of reach,
a pretty unspectacular rock, but i do beseech
you to walk in my shoes, see things where i stand;
although i know it's not easy to comprehend
as you're much closer to our point of energy
while i'm just out here searching for synergy
of prospective beings, and the keyword is hoping --
of prospective beings (in the end i'm just hoping
-- most of the time it's my only way of coping).
yet even if i'm out here, all distant and far
doesn't mean i'm blind, i can still see the star,
like a fiery top twirling in an ebony sea
of obscure orbits -- we're just Not meant to be.
last updated: 2016-02-01 8.58pm
last updated: 13/11/12 12.33am
-----
somehow being a venus just doesn't quite cut it,
i'm more a pluto, of quite a different composite.
i'm foreign, icy and physically out of reach,
a pretty unspectacular rock, but i do beseech
you to walk in my shoes, see things from where i stand;
although i know it's not easy to comprehend
as you're much closer to our flaming source of energy
while i'm just hanging around here hoping for synergy
of the future generation (and the keyword is hoping --
honestly, most of the time it's my only way of coping)
but in this dimension with lights and blackholes galore,
i am but an estranged loner, nothing but a bore.
but even if i'm out here, all distant and far
doesn't mean i'm blind, i can still see the star,
spinning like a fiery top without falling to one side,
making our orbits eternal... we will never collide.
i admit, i'm still clueless of where this will all lead
but what i know for sure is that all dwarfs still bleed.
29/10/12 6.59pm
===
revised?
somehow being a venus just doesn't quite cut it,
i'm more a pluto, of quite a different composite.
i'm foreign, icy and physically out of reach,
pretty much an unspectacular rock, but i do beseech
you to try seeing things from where i stand;
although i know it's not easy to comprehend
as you're closer to our flaming source of energy
while i'm just hanging around here hoping for synergy
of the future generation (and the keyword is hoping --
honestly, most of the time it's my only way of coping)
but in this space, with lights and blackholes galore,
an estranged object as i couldn't be more of a bore.
i admit, i'm still clueless of where this will all lead
but what i know for sure is that all dwarfs still bleed.
but even if i'm out here, all distant and far
doesn't mean i'm blind, i can still see the star,
glaring bright in the centre of our space,
but will this be my resting place?
to top it off, our sun spins on, not falling to one side,
making our orbits eternal... we will never collide.
in this vast space of lights and blackholes galore
i'm an estranged loner, nothing more than a bore
because to call me a venus just doesn't quite cut it,
i'm more a pluto, of quite a different composite:
i'm foreign, icy and physically out of reach,
a pretty unspectacular rock, but i do beseech
you to walk in my shoes, see things where i stand;
although i know it's not easy to comprehend
as you're much closer to our point of energy
while i'm just out here searching for synergy
of prospective beings (in the end i'm just hoping
-- most of the time it's my only way of coping).
yet even if i'm out here, all distant and far
doesn't mean i'm blind, i can still see the star,
like a fiery top twirling in an ebony sea
of obscure orbits -- we're just Not meant to be.
last updated: 2016-02-01 8.58pm
-----
somehow being a venus just doesn't quite cut it,
i'm more a pluto, of quite a different composite.
i'm foreign, icy and physically out of reach,
a pretty unspectacular rock, but i do beseech
you to walk in my shoes, see things from where i stand;
although i know it's not easy to comprehend
as you're much closer to our flaming source of energy
while i'm just hanging around here hoping for synergy
of the future generation (and the keyword is hoping --
honestly, most of the time it's my only way of coping)
but in this dimension with lights and blackholes galore,
i am but an estranged loner, nothing but a bore.
but even if i'm out here, all distant and far
doesn't mean i'm blind, i can still see the star,
spinning like a fiery top without falling to one side,
making our orbits eternal... we will never collide.
i admit, i'm still clueless of where this will all lead
but what i know for sure is that all dwarfs still bleed.
29/10/12 6.59pm
===
revised?
somehow being a venus just doesn't quite cut it,
i'm more a pluto, of quite a different composite.
i'm foreign, icy and physically out of reach,
pretty much an unspectacular rock, but i do beseech
you to try seeing things from where i stand;
although i know it's not easy to comprehend
as you're closer to our flaming source of energy
while i'm just hanging around here hoping for synergy
of the future generation (and the keyword is hoping --
honestly, most of the time it's my only way of coping)
but in this space, with lights and blackholes galore,
an estranged object as i couldn't be more of a bore.
i admit, i'm still clueless of where this will all lead
but what i know for sure is that all dwarfs still bleed.
but even if i'm out here, all distant and far
doesn't mean i'm blind, i can still see the star,
glaring bright in the centre of our space,
but will this be my resting place?
to top it off, our sun spins on, not falling to one side,
making our orbits eternal... we will never collide.
29/10/12 6.59pm
47: eargasm
driving mecrazy,
i'mslippin under;
ilove whatyou do
don'tyou know that
you'retoxic?
27/10/12 10.59pm
i'mslippin under;
ilove whatyou do
don'tyou know that
you'retoxic?
27/10/12 10.59pm
46: what i want is what i am
i'm not cool or fun
or quirky or eccentric;
but i'll make you smile.
27/10/12 9pm
or quirky or eccentric;
but i'll make you smile.
27/10/12 9pm
45: but we be rollin
i do want to do so many things
with, for, to, and because of
you;
but, as it were,
we keep reminding each other
(we keep reminding ourselves?)
'we are untied,
we need to be patient,
we have to hold back'.
but is that truly the reason
for this rollercoaster of emotions?
is it our circumstances that's keeping us apart,
or our doubts and scars deep inside our hearts?
27/10/12 12pm
with, for, to, and because of
you;
but, as it were,
we keep reminding each other
(we keep reminding ourselves?)
'we are untied,
we need to be patient,
we have to hold back'.
but is that truly the reason
for this rollercoaster of emotions?
is it our circumstances that's keeping us apart,
or our doubts and scars deep inside our hearts?
27/10/12 12pm
44: en garde
right when i thought i
could cruise control, you came in
and caught me offguard
26/10/12 3.04am
could cruise control, you came in
and caught me offguard
26/10/12 3.04am
43; We are all experiments
Eureka!
I now have the solvent I've been waiting for,
the last element to support my hypothesis;
this mysterious concoction has now been dissolved!
Finally
I have found the key compound
which crystalises the fact that
you think of me as
Something
who can withstand your methods
who can be moulded as you wish
who will willingly trickle or ooze or solidify or crack or vaporise
as you determine the variables and set the standards,
as you manipulate the conditions,
as you dictate the process.
It's all crystal clear now, because
the pH of what you said is too low, and
the pH of what you mean is too high.
Since my own test has been proven positive, let's move on to yours:
I have identified a few assumptions of yours that need to be corrected.
(Although I am a mixture of things)
I am not your solution.
(Although I can be filled with substances)
I am not an apparatus.
(Although I do like to make people feel fulfilled)
I don't appreciate being part of a disposable experiment kit.
Objectively,
from one scientist to another:
better luck next time.
19/10/12 9am
"it doesn't matter", he says, "if we don't get to talk to each other that often".
since we are both busy.
42: damaged
why?
why are you in such a state?
why are you in so much pain?
why are you so... damaged?
what have you done to yourself?
what has society done to make you this way?
what have we all done to cause us to be like this?
i'm really curious to know why you are the way you are
and i'm also scared to know what you might answer.
why are you in such a state?
why are you in so much pain?
why are you so... damaged?
what have you done to yourself?
what has society done to make you this way?
what have we all done to cause us to be like this?
i'm really curious to know why you are the way you are
and i'm also scared to know what you might answer.
41: oh no
"oh no --
i think you're mistaken, sir.
i think you've got the wrong person;
i know i'm not who you think i am,
i know i'm not who you're looking for."
i want to say all this and
i want to say it nicely, but
i don't know when and
i don't know how to make this less awkward.
oh, no --
i am not a heartbreaker,
i am just a tragic romantic.
i think you're mistaken, sir.
i think you've got the wrong person;
i know i'm not who you think i am,
i know i'm not who you're looking for."
i want to say all this and
i want to say it nicely, but
i don't know when and
i don't know how to make this less awkward.
oh, no --
i am not a heartbreaker,
i am just a tragic romantic.
40: Falling
you entreat me to dance,
and as affections, lust and romance
start to fill the air; right before that state of trance,
i sober up.
wait.
think.
do you truly like me, or
just the idea of not being lonely?
and as affections, lust and romance
start to fill the air; right before that state of trance,
i sober up.
wait.
think.
do you truly like me, or
just the idea of not being lonely?
39: convoluted
CONVOLUTED
are your words,
reasons,
excuses,
thoughts,
promises,
emotions,
flirtations,
and your whole
past, present and future.
i know you are well aware of
(and that you are sadistically watching)
me being overwhelmed by all this,
but come closer; there's something for you i need to whisper:
the harder i tryso goodbye.
to figure you out,
the harder it is for me
to believe what comes out of your mouth.
38: fragile
hearts are such fragile things.
once broken, they're not easy to fix.
once shattered, they're not easy to pick.
sure, you can try to
glue the pieces back together,
tape the cracks to mend them better,
stitch the chunks to make them gather;
and if you succeed,
you should end up with a
(swollen, glued, taped and stitched up) heart
which
if you look closely,
real closely,
will still beat
albeit ever so slowly.
of course, that's if you can look past
the brown-stained glue, tape and stitches and
the crimson droplets slowly oozing out
of the gaps between them.
hearts are such fragile things, after all.
so won't you handle them with care?
once broken, they're not easy to fix.
once shattered, they're not easy to pick.
sure, you can try to
glue the pieces back together,
tape the cracks to mend them better,
stitch the chunks to make them gather;
and if you succeed,
you should end up with a
(swollen, glued, taped and stitched up) heart
which
if you look closely,
real closely,
will still beat
albeit ever so slowly.
of course, that's if you can look past
the brown-stained glue, tape and stitches and
the crimson droplets slowly oozing out
of the gaps between them.
hearts are such fragile things, after all.
so won't you handle them with care?
37: bloody vengeance
let's just move on and pretend
that everything that happened didn't happen,
because i do not fully understand
(and you can't possibly comprehend)
why these old scars have reopened,
but they hurt like fucking vengeance.
36: eid in my family
we don't have eid the way other families do
we don't wear matching colors
we don't balik kampung at our parents' hometowns
we don't sing (or even know) that many raya songs
we don't make our own lemang, ketupat or kuih raya
we don't even play bunga api or mercun anymore.
but
we do have okay clothes for eid
we do look forward to an un-busy KL
we do love catching up with relatives and friends
we do make our own rendangs (and order everything else)
we do still clear up the 'abodes' of those who are no longer with us.
yeah, we don't have eid the way other families do.
but it's okay. we're okay.
35: eid is.
of themed new clothes in treasured family pics,
of toothy cackles against sparkles and fired sticks;
of cash in packets and kissing elderly's hands,
of devouring delicious foods and asking for amends;
of wanting peace and happiness for people the world around,
all of this and infinitely more! but not quite for everyone, i found.
- 21/8/12 4.27pm
of toothy cackles against sparkles and fired sticks;
of cash in packets and kissing elderly's hands,
of devouring delicious foods and asking for amends;
of wanting peace and happiness for people the world around,
all of this and infinitely more! but not quite for everyone, i found.
- 21/8/12 4.27pm
34: Wasting away
i'm wasting my time
i'm wasting my youth
i'm wasting my sanity
i'm wasting my energy
i'm wasting my strength
i'm wasting my life away
and i'm well aware of all this
but i just don't know how to
STOP
i'm wasting my youth
i'm wasting my sanity
i'm wasting my energy
i'm wasting my strength
i'm wasting my life away
and i'm well aware of all this
but i just don't know how to
STOP
33: The Neverending bundles of Joy
Once, I saw a colourful curse
gorgeously graffitied
on an otherwise unflattering floor.
The menacing message read:
"May you enjoy marking
our assessments
as much as we enjoyed
answering them".
Try dodging that, fellow teachers!
Happy Exam Season.
gorgeously graffitied
on an otherwise unflattering floor.
The menacing message read:
"May you enjoy marking
our assessments
as much as we enjoyed
answering them".
Try dodging that, fellow teachers!
Happy Exam Season.
32: marking blues
the test papers
in my bag
are only half-done;
but i
really
really
don't feel like
marking right now.
lord help me.
31: Still beats
my Heart is so filled
by thoughts of you that i fear
it would Burst: be still!
---
for a certain teacher i kinda had a crush on during camp.
by thoughts of you that i fear
it would Burst: be still!
---
for a certain teacher i kinda had a crush on during camp.
30: A Furry Ordeal
feeling a bit chilly,
i curl my legs into
my kaftan nightie
as i lay down on the bed
trying to make myself comfy,
when this ball of fur comes along
and gets all cosy
as she snuggles herself
right next to me
and proceeds to sleep
soundly.
10.12pm
as much as i hated waking her (ie. iqa's cat, simba) about half an hour later ... i really couldn't feel my legs. =_=
29: Sweet cookie
this
'chocolate sandwich marshmallow cake'
(as it says on the strange-looking package)
which,
i have to admit,
has been in my bag
for the past 3 weeks
-- at least
(i'm sure) --
was a gift from a girl of about eight
because she saw
my face
(darken)
when i had just realised
that i
just missed
a trip
that i had been looking forward to
for the past 2 weeks.
it's all squished up inside,
but it still tastes sweet.
My cousin's son gave me choc. It was very sweet of her, especially considering how she's quite a cheeky one. She reminds me of Dora the explorer :)
28: Only sometimes
No, I don't love you
the way I did before. Still,
I miss you sometimes.
the way I did before. Still,
I miss you sometimes.
Written sometime in mid-April 2012.
27: Unsound (Public Transport People #2)
i can't remember how it started, but
the lady next to me told me that
the lady next to her told her that
she didn't know when to get off.
she was simply told
to get on at kl sentral,
then get off at senawang.
it was her first time on a komuter.
white-haired, deaf, and illiterate,
she only had a bag of clothes
and a torn paper with a scribbled number
without a phone to call it with.
it was her first time on a komuter.
as her petite frame shrinked further into her seat
and her tired, weary eyes repeatedly searched the carriage
perhaps for a familiar face,
perhaps for some kind of miracle,
in the end, the only thing she could do
was wait until she stops at a train station
that she couldn't even read the name of.
last updated: 2016-01-31 7.10pm
---
everytime i think of this old lady, my heart breaks.
---
as i boarded the ktm
the lady next to me told me that
the lady next to her told her that
she wasn't sure where to stop.
she was simply told to
get on at kl sentral, and
get off at senawang,
on a komuter train -- her first time in her life -- without anyone to accompany her.
it seems incomprehensible to me that
she can't hear or say much
(she's quite deaf, you see),
and she can't read much,
(she's quite illiterate, you see),
and she doesn't have a phone
(because let's be realistic here -- it's not like she can hear or talk or read anything on a phone),
and yet here she is,
this teary-eyed white-haired woman in her 70's,
sitting in a moving train she has never been on,
not knowing how to read a route map
(or even how to tell the time),
and frightened and alone and overwhelmed that
she is a deaf and illiterate woman in her 70's
without a definite means to say "I'm here!" to,
and the only thing she could do
was wait for someone to get her when she stops at a station
that she can't even read the name of.
=============
i can't remember how it started, but
the lady next to me told me that
the lady next to her told her that
she wasn't sure where to stop.
she was simply told
(by the son and daughter) to
get on at kl sentral, and
get off at senawang,
on a ktm komuter -- for her first time in her life -- without anyone to accompany her.
it seems incomprehensible to me that
she can't hear or say much
(she's quite deaf, you see),
and she can't read much
(she's quite illiterate, you see),
and she doesn't have a phone
(because COME ON -- it's not like she can hear or talk or read anything on a phone),
and yet here she is,
this teary-eyed white-haired woman in her 70's,
sitting in a moving train she has never been on,
not knowing how to read a route map
(or where 'senawang' even is)
and frightened and alone and overwhelmed because
she is a deaf and illiterate woman in her 70's
who could only wait for someone to get her when she stops at a station
that she can't even read the name of.
8.24pm
---
i can't remember how it started, but
the lady next to me told me that
the lady next to her told her that
she wasn't sure where to stop.
she was simply told
(by her son and daughter) to
get on at kl sentral, and
get off at senawang,
on a ktm komuter -- for the first time in her life -- without anyone to assist her.
it seems incomprehensible to me that
she can't hear or say much
(she's quite deaf, you see),
and she can't read much
(she's quite illiterate, you see),
and she doesn't have a phone
(because LET'S BE REALISTIC -- it's not like she can hear or talk or read anything on a phone),
and yet here she is,
this teary-eyed white-haired woman in her 70's,
sitting in a moving train she has never been on,
without a clue of how to read a route map, and
without any way of saying (to whoever is picking her up) "I'm here!".
sitting next to strangers
who can barely understand her, and
trying to hold back feelings of sadness, fear,
loneliness and how overwhelmed she was
as a deaf and illiterate woman in her 70's
sitting in a moving train with no familiar faces around her
and the only she could do,
was wait for someone to get her when she stops at a train station
that she can't even read the name of.
---
i can't remember how it started, but
the lady next to me told me that
the lady next to her told her that
she wasn't sure where to stop.
she was simply told
(by her son and daughter) to
get on at kl sentral, then
get off at senawang
on a ktm komuter (for the first time in her life -- and without any assistance).
it seems incomprehensible to me that
she can't hear or say much
(she's quite deaf, you see),
and she can't read much
(she's quite illiterate, you see),
and she doesn't have a phone
(because LET'S BE REALISTIC -- it's not like she can hear or talk or read anything on a phone),
and yet here she is, this
white-haired woman in her 70's,
sitting in a vehicle she has never been on,
without a clue of how to read a route map, and
without any way of saying (to whoever was going to pick her up) "I'm here!".
sitting next to those who can
barely understand what she utters,
her watery eyes, reflecting
her fear of uncertainty and abandonment,
look around at the unfamiliar faces
with hope but in vain
because the only thing she could do
was wait for someone to get her when she stops at a train station
that she can't even read the name of.
---
26: Balance (Public Transport People #1)
of all the passengers
on the lrt, he stood out
like a quiet moth
against social butterflies.
wearing
an oversized security guard uniform,
a funny-looking hat,
a slightly faded backpack,
a pair of dusty black loafs and
a sullen expression,
his clumsy hands
held onto the railing as
his frail body
swayed along with the movement of the train.
yet
this dispirited man,
confused or drowning or lost or stuck
in his own world,
still managed to keep his balance
no matter how abruptly the lrt stops.
i wonder what kept him going.
i love people-watching, especially on public transports.
on the lrt, he stood out
like a quiet moth
against social butterflies.
wearing
an oversized security guard uniform,
a funny-looking hat,
a slightly faded backpack,
a pair of dusty black loafs and
a sullen expression,
his clumsy hands
held onto the railing as
his frail body
swayed along with the movement of the train.
yet
this dispirited man,
confused or drowning or lost or stuck
in his own world,
still managed to keep his balance
no matter how abruptly the lrt stops.
i wonder what kept him going.
3.08pm
---
i love people-watching, especially on public transports.
25: The Gamble
hearts
are such fragile things,
but
you have to risk
the ache
of losing yours
if you want to
truly
win over
someone else's;
no pain,
no gain.
---
2.12am
to a friend's admirer:
just confess and get on with life already
are such fragile things,
but
you have to risk
the ache
of losing yours
if you want to
truly
win over
someone else's;
no pain,
no gain.
---
2.12am
to a friend's admirer:
just confess and get on with life already
24: Nature vs Nurture
you always make it seem
like my sole purpose
in life
is to hurt you.
with the way i
walk,
talk,
argue,
and refuse;
the way i
hesitate,
aggravate,
disappoint,
and miss your point (of view).
i do wonder
if your image of me
is not entirely
untrue.
really,
i don't mean to be mean,
but there are times i think
subconsciously,
i do.
like my sole purpose
in life
is to hurt you.
with the way i
walk,
talk,
argue,
and refuse;
the way i
hesitate,
aggravate,
disappoint,
and miss your point (of view).
i do wonder
if your image of me
is not entirely
untrue.
really,
i don't mean to be mean,
but there are times i think
subconsciously,
i do.
12.12am
23: Sober
when i was 5,
i wanted to be an artist:
i wanted to make beautiful things and figure out
the best way to color a shape
without going beyond the line.
when i was 10,
i wanted to be an astronomer:
i wanted to gaze at the stars in the sky and figure out
exactly
which constellations each of them belong to.
when i was 15,
i wanted to be an engineer:
i wanted to invent awesome things and figure out
how to fix anything
and everything.
when i was 20,
i wanted to be a teacher:
i wanted to inspire people to be better and figure out
ways to capture the attention
of students with different personalities, interests and learning abilities.
but now that i'm this close to being what i wanted to be,
i've learnt that i'm not supposed to
'figure things out'.
all i needed to do is simply say:
"saya yang menurut perintah".
11.54pm
22: It's a Girl/Thing
Silly thing,
Girls can't climb trees
or play with ladybugs
or chase chickens
or arm-wrestle!
Girls must cook things
and do house chores
and be pretty
and just listen!
Silly thing.
12.11am
Girls can't climb trees
or play with ladybugs
or chase chickens
or arm-wrestle!
Girls must cook things
and do house chores
and be pretty
and just listen!
Silly thing.
12.11am
21: What I was told
ever since i could remember,
i was constantly told that i was
a bit too dark and my body was
a bit too fat and my hair was
a bit too curly and my feet were
a bit too crooked and my voice was
a bit too loud and my smile was
a bit too wide and my demeanor was
a bit too unfeminine and my pronunciations were
a bit too gobbled up and that
nobody
will marry me unless i changed.
bless your hearts
for warning me of how my life will always revolve around the idea of how marriage-material i am,
and
please excuse my insolence in questioning your authority and wisdom
but
i'm a bit Confused:
if i change, there is a chance someone might like me,
but
if i change, is there a chance i will like myself?
11.33pm
i was constantly told that i was
a bit too dark and my body was
a bit too fat and my hair was
a bit too curly and my feet were
a bit too crooked and my voice was
a bit too loud and my smile was
a bit too wide and my demeanor was
a bit too unfeminine and my pronunciations were
a bit too gobbled up and that
nobody
will marry me unless i changed.
bless your hearts
for warning me of how my life will always revolve around the idea of how marriage-material i am,
and
please excuse my insolence in questioning your authority and wisdom
but
i'm a bit Confused:
if i change, there is a chance someone might like me,
but
if i change, is there a chance i will like myself?
11.33pm
20: Starry-eyed
Just
like stars
revolving around the
sea of galaxies in
the vast universe, we orbit:
at our own pace and space,
with grace and for solace,
determined to not stray;
we accept our
centre of
Gravity
like stars
revolving around the
sea of galaxies in
the vast universe, we orbit:
at our own pace and space,
with grace and for solace,
determined to not stray;
we accept our
centre of
Gravity
---
Quite breathtaking, seeing this with your own eyes
19: Le Delabelling De La Belle
I once read a play
with characters real queer.
One of them couldn't stand labels,
she wishes they would all disappear.
She hates seeing labels so much that
she always peeled them off;
while I was learning this in Lit class
I couldn't help but laugh.
But then I stopped
when I realised something amiss,
because ever since I was a tot,
ridding labels gave me such bliss.
Labels don't bother me as much now,
and I wonder why this is so;
is it because I'm tired of unlabelling things,
and learnt to just accept status quo?
with characters real queer.
One of them couldn't stand labels,
she wishes they would all disappear.
She hates seeing labels so much that
she always peeled them off;
while I was learning this in Lit class
I couldn't help but laugh.
But then I stopped
when I realised something amiss,
because ever since I was a tot,
ridding labels gave me such bliss.
Labels don't bother me as much now,
and I wonder why this is so;
is it because I'm tired of unlabelling things,
and learnt to just accept status quo?
18: In the name of development
On my way to Melawati today,
I looked to my left
and saw the once-beautiful trees, uprooted.
I looked at my mom who was driving
and asked her what had happened to the trees.
She said the roads couldn't accommodate
the number of drivers;
our roads needed to be widened,
it's part of development.
On my way back from Melawati,
I looked to my left
and saw the once-glorious hills, flattened.
I looked at the notice on the zinc wall
and read what had happened to the hills.
It said the lowlands couldn't accommodate
the number of families;
our houses needed to be multiplied,
it's part of development.
"LOOK!"
Mom suddenly said, interrupting my thoughts.
I turned to see what she had seen;
and saw the off-late stormy skies, clearing.
I looked at the fluffy white clouds
and the evening sun behind it, glowing summery shades.
It made me wonder: how much time
do we have left before
our heavens disappear,
in the name of development?
---
080312 @ 21:26
I looked to my left
and saw the once-beautiful trees, uprooted.
I looked at my mom who was driving
and asked her what had happened to the trees.
She said the roads couldn't accommodate
the number of drivers;
our roads needed to be widened,
it's part of development.
On my way back from Melawati,
I looked to my left
and saw the once-glorious hills, flattened.
I looked at the notice on the zinc wall
and read what had happened to the hills.
It said the lowlands couldn't accommodate
the number of families;
our houses needed to be multiplied,
it's part of development.
"LOOK!"
Mom suddenly said, interrupting my thoughts.
I turned to see what she had seen;
and saw the off-late stormy skies, clearing.
I looked at the fluffy white clouds
and the evening sun behind it, glowing summery shades.
It made me wonder: how much time
do we have left before
our heavens disappear,
in the name of development?
---
080312 @ 21:26
17 : From Fowl to Foul
The whole place was packed and the atmosphere was tense;
the patrons frowned, at the limits of their patience.
Then someone heard something not exactly soothing to the ear
(the kitchen helper probably thought that others couldn't hear).
"There's not enough fowl!" they reported, and oh how they scowled.
There were some who even snapped -- words and actions turned foul!
The fact of the matter is, there was no need for such heat,
the only thing needing fire should have just been the meat.
Thus, among the lessons we can learn is patience is a virtue,
and if you don't act rationally... you'll be easy to sue ;)
---
This poem is pretty much about a certain issue that just happened in Malaysia last week. It's quite a hard topic I hafta admit, but I hope it turned out ok. :P
Credits to Irin Y. for suggesting the topic! ^_^
the patrons frowned, at the limits of their patience.
Then someone heard something not exactly soothing to the ear
(the kitchen helper probably thought that others couldn't hear).
"There's not enough fowl!" they reported, and oh how they scowled.
There were some who even snapped -- words and actions turned foul!
The fact of the matter is, there was no need for such heat,
the only thing needing fire should have just been the meat.
Thus, among the lessons we can learn is patience is a virtue,
and if you don't act rationally... you'll be easy to sue ;)
This poem is pretty much about a certain issue that just happened in Malaysia last week. It's quite a hard topic I hafta admit, but I hope it turned out ok. :P
Credits to Irin Y. for suggesting the topic! ^_^
16 : The Newlyweds
Two faces glow as
their loved ones raise glasses in
unison -- "Yaaaaaaaaaaam seng!"
Just came back from an interesting wedding reception. I attended because the groom is my neighbor, and he's a Chindian lad who found love in Australia. He married a Chinese Aussie lass. They both looked dashing,and the bride was just so radiant. She changed into 3 dresses, and they were all pretty ^_^
Aside from the champagne fountain after the cake-cutting ceremony, a few other things made me smile: the kiss that the groom gave the bride (while carrying her 'princess style'... bcuz his friend impromptu-dared him to do it lol :P), and chanting "Yaaaaaaaaaaaam seng!" (Chinese "Cheers" equivalent) really loudly. The bridge and groom actually went from table to table to do this Yam seng thing and thanked ppl for coming. Although I'm not truly into Chinese cuisine (a lot of seafood dishes tonight, probably because there was a mix of guests -- Muslims, Hindus, Buddhists...), I thought the reception was quite well. I really liked the dessert at the end, some kind of honeydew-ish soupy thing, and lotus pancake or sthg like that. Yumm!
An interesting experience, today was :)
their loved ones raise glasses in
unison -- "Yaaaaaaaaaaam seng!"
~
Just came back from an interesting wedding reception. I attended because the groom is my neighbor, and he's a Chindian lad who found love in Australia. He married a Chinese Aussie lass. They both looked dashing,and the bride was just so radiant. She changed into 3 dresses, and they were all pretty ^_^
Aside from the champagne fountain after the cake-cutting ceremony, a few other things made me smile: the kiss that the groom gave the bride (while carrying her 'princess style'... bcuz his friend impromptu-dared him to do it lol :P), and chanting "Yaaaaaaaaaaaam seng!" (Chinese "Cheers" equivalent) really loudly. The bridge and groom actually went from table to table to do this Yam seng thing and thanked ppl for coming. Although I'm not truly into Chinese cuisine (a lot of seafood dishes tonight, probably because there was a mix of guests -- Muslims, Hindus, Buddhists...), I thought the reception was quite well. I really liked the dessert at the end, some kind of honeydew-ish soupy thing, and lotus pancake or sthg like that. Yumm!
An interesting experience, today was :)
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