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".