Dark Grey

She started out with "Hey, how are you doing?". How was I to answer that without having a meltdown? I replied with a low volume "Fine, I guess." I haven't heard from her in a few years now. Although I thought I had been prepared for this moment, the realization that it is finally happening is, I imagine, how people feel when they get shot. By a firing squad. She began making small talk asking about my life which I didn't have much to talk about.

"I'm just calling in to talk to you about something" she then continued. I would have had an awesome comeback for these things but at the current state I was in my numb body could only go "em..". "I think you've heard by now that I'm engaged, so I'm calling to invite you to my wedding before word got out on the date and stuff. I thought it'd be appropriate for me to notify you personally before anyone else". At this moment I felt my soul left my body to try find a place to kill itself somehow, because well, that made a whole lot of sense, you know, your lifeless entity separate itself from its being and tries to kill itself. I didn't say a word for what seems like an eternity until I mustered out "oh, okay."

She then gave the details of her big day and finished with "I really hope you'll be there and it would mean so much to me if you could do a performance or something but if you can't then that's fine, I understand." What was I to say. Of course the right thing to do was decline but when your brain isn't working that well the only two syllables that could come out of my mouth was "o-kay". Okay so it was more like two alphabets but you get my point. "So great, hope to see you soon to catch up or something." she said before ending the call.

As I put back my phone into my pocket all the past memories came back to me immediately. The ones I have been trying to suppress for all this couple of years. All the good and bad lump into one long montage like the ones you see at the beginning of any series episodes to get you up to date with the story line so far. I got back into the car, stared at the long road ahead and just drove. I reached at the building where my meeting was held with a guitar in my hand and baggage in my head.

Off white

It was already 3pm. I was late. I'm always late. I've been contemplating on how unnecessary this meeting actually was but it never occurred to me to do something about it. It was a gloomy day just waiting for the clouds to be heavy enough to pour down with rain.

I was trying to put on my tie while simultaneously trying not to get killed on the road. My 78' Honda Civic still had some juice left in it or so i presume. Halfway there smoke came from the hood of the car. Struggling as I was, I managed to shift my attention to rolling down the windows to signal that I was going to steer to the roadside. It wasn't like there were other cars on the road at the time though. It was mostly just to fan away the smoke that was blinding my sight.

I stopped at the roadside to check what's happening under the hood as if I knew much about cars. The closest I got to ever becoming knowledgeable about the mechanics of the automobile was when I was pretending to be Godzilla going berserk on a generic Japanese town and accidentally broke some of the car toys. Okay so it was a couple of weeks ago, but that's not the point, the point is I had some experience with the insides of a car.

I popped open the hood and the air suddenly was filled with smoke. As I was trying to search for something that might be broken my phone rang. Fearing the worse I had already prepared a speech as to why I'm late. It was basically the plot line to those old national lampoon movies but when I took up the call it was a soft feminine voice that greeted me. This voice is too familiar to me that it took about 5 minutes to finally realize that the smoke stopped emitting out of the car. Hearing her voice was like talking to the ghost of Christmas past except that she wasn't a ghost and not much Christmas-sy.

I sat down at the curb of the road to digest the call I took. I felt like I was having panic attacks or perhaps I was having a minor stroke. My brain went hare wire as it tried to send messages for me to move my mouth and utter out anything close to a "hi".

Almost

I had two brushes with death in a span of a fortnight.

I stopped and thought to myself "Is this just a freaky incident or is my sub-conscious mind telling me to kill myself".

Look into it and you find nothing

I've been itching to write something up for the last couple of months or so. Although there were some post up, but it seems out of touch and I still don't think I have it as of currently either, but I guess trying is a step.

So anyway, enough with the sappy stuff and on to other more depressing stuff. Ha ha.

I've loved arts from as long as I could remember (and I do have a good memory when it involves eclectic stuff) but in do time I've connected more and view certain things more differently. This is why people love stuff like music, films, plays, paintings and so on. Although it could be in a specific medium targeting specific audiences, it can always spill to a wider audience. Did any of that make any sense? Ha ha.

I guess I grew up a bit this past year (and people would point me on that, albeit because of physical appearance) and the experiences I have encountered have made certain things open up. Like how different a song sounds when the lyrics can be connected, or how a film is viewed through different experiences. Basically the main point to this whole crap of a post is that art is better viewed through experiences.

I think I've gone melodrama and probably am becoming the manifestation of Hector in one of those Morrissey songs but life comes by the day, and I'm hoping that it will lead me to hear more clearer, to view more brighter, to feel more deeper.

This shit's depressing. Ha ha ha.

Name that Movie 9

Miss Emily: We didn't have to look into your souls, we had to see if you had souls at all.

Just because it has been ages.

Declassified

Kepalanya berpetak dengan pixel-pixel yang semakin hari semakin kecil pembentukkannya. Beliau melihat aku dengan matanya yang kosong, tanpa emosi, tanpa pergerakan. Muka stoic nya itu membuatkan aku kurang selesa. Aku melihatnya berdiri tegak. Kesunyian sekeliling membuatkan aku keliru dengan persekitaranku. Secanggih mana pun teknologi yang tercipta manusia masih lagi tidak dapat membina cyborg yang mempunyai emosi tersendiri.

Aku telan air liur ku dalam keadaan terkejut.

Aku sebenarnya sedang melihat cermin.

Hujan lebat memotong kelajuan cahaya

Opened my ym, dramatically the screen pops up and a new person wanted to add me.

One of whom I've never known before. The name however familiar can't be registered after countless neurons intercepting one another. As fast as any one neuron can go from the cerebrum, past the frontal lobe through the temporal lobe to the parietal lobe and finally onto my muscles, I had managed to reply even faster.

Delete. Ignore user. Heh.

My subconscious can't help ignore the fact that in the box it said "saw you in fb thought id like to get to know you better."

Tak susah bertindak.

Sorrow

It was a cloudy day. Haze season I presume. I sat by the curb looking down towards the newly relayed tar. This pain inside is not surprising but painful nonetheless. A stranger walked by and saw me sitting there, alone.

He approached me patting my back asking what was wrong. I looked at him only to say "you don't want to hear my sob story friend". He replied, "its okay, I have the time".

So on I went, telling him in perfect painful details. I finished the story on a sour note in what turned out to be half an hours worth. He then began sobbing. Crying his hearts out and nodding to the facts that has been given to him.

So distraught was he that he refused to stay in this country. No more would he like to be apart of something like this. I then patted his back and said "yes, that is how I found out that they wont be serving KFC's double down here in Malaysia".

Transformasi kewangan

One would be a fool not to realize the impact of east Asian culture on our own pop scene. From the days of japan's take on Asia for Asia to the now booming k-pop infiltration, the culture from the far east has been ever present.

I was listening to bfm the other day (ya, BFM) and they interviewed the managing director or was it the CEO?, of pavilion kl. If you haven't been to pavilion yet I can take you only if you promise to pay for food (will drive for food, ha ha). The top level of pavilion is/ has been refurbished and has a concept on its own that for me doesn't suit with the exclusivity of pavilion kl. They are making a hip Japanese theme area like some street name in japan that's famous for those kind of things (don't ask). Maybe it's appropriate among the other buildings in the golden triangle but I think it doesn't suit well with pavilion although I could be proved wrong as I have not been or seen it yet.

Its a wonder what wave we will see hit us next but I believe with the new focus on Asian related trends it will help us a country in the long run. The need to get the Asian trend going has made our mainstream market looking for things locally produced. This has helped the local industries tremendously in terms of volume. We can now watch Malaysian made movies in the cinema without worrying what others will think, and the attendance of stadium go-ers has increased. Although the increment has not been staggering for some, it is a mild but visible. We can only presume that competition from our own local industry will match that of the imported ones within the next decade. Some more significant than others.

With all the excitement being felt in our own backyard I hope that we will see more innovative ideas coming out especially in terms of intellectual properties. One I am very excited about is underground shopping but that is another long story to talk about especially since its still in its infancy.

I am writing this crap mainly to try and build my interest back in pop writing. Trying to get away from some serious shit for awhile maybe. Hopefully I still have some mojo left in me.

Escalate

This heart is beating outside it's realm,

on the floor, dirty and weak.

It's pumping ever so slow,

and slowly deteriorating.

A gush of blood squirting all over the walls,

making out a sign of loss.

It stopped for awhile, a short while,

your hoping that it was the end.

But it was not the case,

it never was.

It expanded rapidly,

and exploded into many more bits and pieces.

Suddenly everything turns black,

as you found out that those parts belongs to you.

Murder Scene

Picking up the splattered flesh on the walls, the floors, the furniture,

cleaning the mess from a blood bath,

the eye out of it's socket, the arms out it's body, the brain out of it's skull.

For sometimes I thought it was intact but it wasn't.

Understanding its reasons but never to be understood.

Maybe this is the only way it can be clear, understood, processed,

through death be my own.

Years worth of therapy

Every problem is an easy problem to solve in hindsight.

Shit.

3. Fighting through fogs

Halfway there. Recess. The past couple of subjects flew by as many intend it to. As if we were never there. Recess has always been that time to catch up on unfinished homework. I say catch up when I really mean is copy. Scrambling away trying to scan the answers as much as possible without thinking about why the're the answers in the first place. When there is so little time on the clock, we can't be going into details now can we?

Next thing I knew I was in a midst of war. Bullets flying all over the place. Heads bursting in front of my heads as each bullet penetrates ever so slowly into their hard and dense skull. Screaming out of intimidation but mostly fear. The looks on their eyes saying that they regretted every minute of it. Marching forward they went without any reason. What more did they want from life? They were already there emotionless, cold hearted and senseless. Why back out now? All were hoping to get back to normal. To the life they once knew, but at this particular time they could not think much about that just to move on. Kill or be killed. Successfully invading other people's normality while hiding the fact that they were only there thinking of their own. The flag planted on these foreign ground to call it their soil without thinking of the process they went through to have the ability to put a long metal rod deep in the grounds of foreign land with their colors atop tied with pride.

Kriiing!!!

Bell rang to inform students that the last class has finished and the day was done.

Sialan

Whoever conducted and claimed that cats have 9 lives must have been one sick bastard.

Name that Movie 8

John Keating: We don't read and write poetry because it's cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for. To quote from Whitman, "O me! O life!... of the questions of these recurring; of the endless trains of the faithless... of cities filled with the foolish; what good amid these, O me, O life?" Answer. That you are here - that life exists, and identity; that the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse. That the powerful play *goes on* and you may contribute a verse. What will your verse be?

Downer

I sometimes wonder what should have been, what could have been, what would have been?

The problem is that the word sometime is just a lie.

Stop on red

I've longed to start writing again but something is holding me back.

Its a hard pull down to obscurity while somehow finding ways to make more enemies.

This need to write is blocking my ability to live while itself being blocked by this pull.

The kind of pull that you somehow know you can't get out of.

Somehow it seems more deadlier than a writer's block. Literally.

Riding the Wave

Whoever said that "if you love someone let them go" must have been a cold hearted bastard.

Hiatus

To have gone this far, only to be stopped,

is always an angry thing to have faced.

The amount of work put into it, has only liven up the desire to hurt.

To wear this mask and hold this gun,

is to be dead.

But we hope in time this would be in the past,

reminding to build the future.

Solitude

This is the start of my great depression.

Ladies and gentlemen,

ready your ropes.

We need it tighter this time.

Picking up the pieces

Maybe it is time to organize the words in my mind to form some proper paragraphs, or at the very least a sentence.

So, there you go.

Damn.

Luckily unlucky

Theres always that thrill and burst of adrenalin in sports regardless of the end result. In golf, there is much emphasis on the etiquette as the rules of the game. A hole in one is such a rare treat that if any one golfer would have been lucky to do so they would buy drinks for the whole clubhouse that day. It was basically the etiquette and tradition of celebration for that one event where skill is just 10% of your effort while the other 90% is based on pure luck.

Most of us dream of such an event while there are some, surprisingly, doesn't want any part of it.

We stopped playing for awhile because of heavy rain and thunder but when we started back play my dad had been on fire. The second hole after the restart was a 167m long par 3. His ball flew straight at the flag and as the ball was landing all our hearts skipped a beat. The ball in the end landed just 2 inches from the hole. That was the closest any of us ever got to a legitimate hole in one.

As we drove our carts heading towards the hole there was 2 possible angle he could have looked at it:

The first angle (competitive sportsmen):

It was just 2 inches from the hole. He would have made history. The one thing that most golfers wanted to do, he was 2 inches away. It would be devastating to be so near yet so far.

The second angle:

Luck was on his side after all since he would have had to buy everybody at the clubhouse drinks.

I don't think I have to elaborate on which angle my dad took.

Karma

If your not prepared to get what you gave, then don't even think about it.

Fuck.

Stares

The place was mainly silence except for the clicking of keyboards. The place itself prohibited the use of mobile phone. One rang and an old-ish woman picked it up and talked slowly. A bank teller asked her to step outside when making a call. Normal. A lot of phones rang that day. Be it mobile or stationary. Normal.

Than a ringtone broke the mild silence. "Oh oh oh oh oh" the sound came out of her phone. Even before another ooh could have come up, the lady picked up the phone covering her face with her hands as if she could be invisible at that time. Everybody looked at her.

She was red in embarrassment. She couldn't think straight as she mumbled slowly talking on the phone. She wanted to dig up her grave at that moment in time. It seemed like thousand of eyes were watching her. Any other day she wouldn't have gotten these looks even if she picked up her phone in a bank.

But today was different. It was the day that she realized she had to change her Justin Beiber ring tone.

Why?

I dreamed that someday, at least for a few hours,

I get to know the answers to my questions.

The universe has its limitations. Mysterious to some, fucking complicated to others.

Hole

I searched for any type of answer that could finish off this test.

I never really liked cheating, in anything for that matter,

and I'm not going to start now.

So I've failed a couple of times before,

at least I knew that my effort was unconditionally mine,

and not anybody else's.

But now I'm troubled at being dealt this card,

I want to peak at other answers,

but I know the answer is when the question is read.

I'm now beginning to believe that I'm depressed.

2. First Bell

Breakfast of champions they say. At least its by their humbling opinion. Heh. I looked at the carton of milk ready to pour on top of the cereal in my bowl when my mom stopped me and asked me to look at the expiration date. It was two months past I said. She said to throw it out. I did, not before emptying it though. Spicy.

Mark was understandably late. He knocked on the front door yelling out loud just so the whole world could hear. You know, in case I was dead or kidnapped or something. That's just how a good friend he is. I took my bike out and we rode to school. We actually didn't need the bikes as the school was just 10 minutes walk away, but you never know when you feel like ditching it.

As expected, we arrived just before the assembly finished as all of those who was at the assembly watched us riding our bikes towards the parking bay in silence. We were invisible we thought. Off to detention we went before the first class. As if the school don't demotivate us enough with the way their teaching in class. The school bell rang, first class of the day.

The teacher came in without even spilling out a sound she wrote on the chalkboard the day's homework. It's not as if she even put an effort into giving the homework. She just doodled numbers on the board indicating the page numbers of the exercises in our books. She stood in front of us trying to teach us something but most of the time she just read out loud. Teachers make a habit of reading out loud with the most soothest of voices. I guess thats why half of the class are fast asleep throughout the reading.

As was I.

Headlines

If I told you everything you'd kill yourself,

If I told you something I'd kill myself,

If I told you nothing we'd kill the story.

Iceberg

Everything seems stable for now,

but deep down theres still doubt,

confusion, over analysis.

The rights to make things clear still hangs in the balance.

History

I've had my fair share of battle wounds,

some won, and some loss.

But now I don't know if I'm ready to loose this war.

I've got nothing to say, tonight.

Even if it means the sanity of my future.

Midnight Scare

In this dark place I sat mentally drained,

emotionally demolished,

physically tired.

And yet when I've tried to die,

I just wander back into that hole,

repeating it again and again.

Floating through limbo,

with nothing but anger, frustration, disbelief,

I cry in silence.

Who are you?

I just need the truth,

Who are you?

Power to the people

We are a nation that is one paycheck away from murder.

When you know you don't want it to start

Beliau memandang kepadaku dan berkata, "oh yeah, I've heard about you before. You seemed like a phat guy."

"What was that?" aku bertanya kepadanya dalam keadaan keliru.

"Don't get me wrong, phat spelled with a p-h." beliau menjelaskan.

"I heard you right, its just that I'm doubting your vocabulary right now." aku menjawap.

Kami tidak berkata apa-apa kepada masing-masing selepas itu.

Two sides of the pitch

"All that I know most surely about morality and obligations, I owe to football."

- Albert Camus (Philosopher) -

100m Dash

Bunyi tembakan pistol menandakan permulaan,

setiap mereka berlari mencengkam tanah sepantas mungkin,

termasuk aku.

Sorakan sekeliling menambahkan semangat untuk berlari,

lebih pantas, lebih laju, goyangan kaki melampaui hukum fizik.

Lama-kelamaan semuanya semakin pudar,

sorakan sekeliling, cahaya terpancar dari tubuh badan mereka yang lain,

dan juga persekitaran sekeliling.

Aku menahan kakiku dari melangkah kehadapan,

dan berhenti.

Aku berhenti bukan kerna ingin mengalah,

aku berhenti untuk kewarasan.

1. Where breakfast are made.

*Thud*

I hit my head on the floor as I now realize that it was a somewhat beautiful nightmare. I looked at the clock, it was 5 a.m. I was pissed at the sight of a very early morning. Well, any sight of morning to be precise. I wash my eyes with cold water to somehow force myself to fully regain consciousness. I sat on my bed trying to analyze the dream I just had in a Freudian kind of way. Or at least that's what I told myself. It may have been a more paranoid look into my dream than actually analyzing anything.

I look out the window, and its still dark outside. It's somehow refreshing to see that it's still dark even though this is going to mess with my biological daily timing. I went out with only a t-shirt and boxer and stood outside the house looking up at the sky as the moon and the sun changes it's shifts. A glorious sight if only there were punch cards involved. Light passing through the sky, peeking its workplace.

As the sky turned bright I look away and saw that a couple of houses away there stood a girl for whom I knew too well. It was Daisy standing slowly looking away from the sky. She slowly looked my way and our eyes met with great awkwardness. She looked up for a second and looked back at me as if to say she too was enjoying the sunrise. She then slowly picked up her hand as if to wave then turned it into the middle finger.

Ah yes, the day has arrived.

Part End

As I was trying to continue "working" on the short story I'm writing I finished up the draft of my list of songs from the previous story. Life as we know it, is a musical. So heres my list of songs that I was either listening to or thinking while writing. The story part by part is re-linked:

Part 1

1. Mew - Repeaterbeater

2. Queens of the Stone Age - Auto Pilot

3. The Beatles - Got To Get You Into My Life

Part 2

1. Almond Hammond Jr. - Borrowed Time

2. The Beatles - A Hard Day's Night

3. Radiohead - We Suck Young Blood

Part 3

1. Yeah Yeah Yeahs - Runaway

2. The Beta Band - Needles in My Eyes

3. Vampire Weekend - The Kids Don't Stand A Chance

Part 4

1. Rachael Yamagata - Worn Me Down

2. Florence and the Machines - Dog Days Are Over

3. Jimi hendrix - Spanish Castle Magic

Part 5

1. The Cribs - Shoot the Poets

2. Plastiscines - Camera

3. Jimi hendrix - Purple Haze

Part 6

1. Carla Bruni - I Went To Heaven

2. The Smiths - Last Night I Deamt That Somebody Loved Me

3. Mumford And Sons - Awake My Soul

Enjoy life while listening to music. If you guys want to hear the songs, again, youtube. Or hop on my ride when I'm hearing 'em. Ha ha ha. If theres any other suggestion of songs feel free to drop a comment.

0. Running out of my mind

I seemed to have gotten lost in the woods. I was sweating profusely from all the running. Of course I was running, when there's an eight foot giant bear who seemed like it wants to have me for sashimi. I know it'd be better to have salmon for sashimi and me as a slightly under cooked teppanyaki but under these circumstances he'd pretty much get bored waiting for me to cook.

I tried to call for help but to no avail, so I climbed a tree to get a better view of any available survival spots. It was a bad idea. The bear started pounding its whole body against the tree to have me fall down from it. This bear had to work hard for its food today. Kinda like those buffet tables during breaking of fast in those overly priced hotels. I guess he needed some exercise before a meal. There he was pounding the tree as I hold on for my measly life. I shouted all I could but no one was responding. I felt as every thump of its pounding made more and more branches fall. I knew I didn't have much more time. If only people around me knew how I felt about them. If only I had been able to say goodbye before I came into such predicament. Somehow though predicament isn't a big enough word to express such a situation.

This was it. My final minutes of life. I had only one branch left between me and death. One branch that if broken meant I would be more dead than Elvis or Michael Jackson combined. One branch that eventually broke. I was plummeting to my death with the bear ready down below to finish off any sense of life left in me but my neck broke on impact and died immediately resulting in a corpse lunch for the bear. *shrugs*