Forgettable

It was a day no different from any other. One that is entirely forgettable, yet time insists I go through the motions of breathing and sensory awareness. I've stopped wondering, it's tiring to process the thoughts that constantly run through my mind like rampant nudists over a patch of dying grass. My brain feels like that patch of grass.

I thought I'd take a long walk, to perhaps find a moment in time that I might not quite forget. It was a glimmer of hope that felt as bright as a glimmer in the puddle of mud left in the sun. Something that lasts forever, only in the span of a very finite time.

Walking along the sidewalk, I find myself making a very momentous decision. I thought I'd get a haircut. With the current intricacies and excitement of my life, a haircut is quite akin to sex for a virgin. Perhaps I could also buy some stuff, some toiletries, or just something. I thought that might be nice. Perhaps it might even be quite like foreplay to the previous analogy.

I finally reached an area where shops gathered to prey on wandering shoppers.

As I browsed through one (a shop, not a shopper), I made mental targets of toiletries available. They should last me quite a while, considering I've not found a reason to use them for some time. Very forgettable times.

Looking at the barber next door, I thought I should probably get the haircut first, but maybe I should walk a little more, at the very least, to the ATM for some extra cash. I remembered I had some, but I knew it would be quite some time before I bothered walking here again. And I'd rather have some cash left after paying for the haircut and stuff. So as I reached into my pocket, I headed towards the machine and made a discovery that would change my plans for the day, instantly.

I had forgotten to bring my wallet.

Fuck.

Something Good

A song written by a friend, sings my soul's cry.

You come back to your room

You switch on yellow night lights just beside the bed

You draw the curtains close

You lie down in your clothes and try to sleep instead

You put your hand across

You feel a cold where a good warmth used to lie beside

You lie down in the light

The short hand of the hour just has passed you by

You know there's something missing, from this place

A little something missing, you can't face

You know there's something dying, in this place

A little something crying, in this space

There's a trace

Of something good.

The sun peeks through the gap

You never got the rest that you needed for this day

You shower in a daze

You're wondering if this life has just faded to the gray

Broken pieces on the floor

You throw out with the rest of the life you had before

You walk out through the door

And glance back to the place that was home and so much more

You know you need to move on, from this place

You know you need to be gone, and replace

Of all the things you wanted, there's no space

To keep a piece of mind, of that face

Not a trace

Of something good

Of something good

- Hamdan Selamat

ú-chebin estel anim

Exclusive Exclusion

Several months ago, while chatting with online, Mickey was sharing a joke that a mutual good friend Donald had just told him. I mentioned that we should all get together for a drink, since we hadn’t done that for a while. Mickey said I could ask Donald myself, since Donald is online too. I asked if Donald was “appearing offline” and shot an invite to Donald at the same time. Mickey informs me otherwise. Donald was available for chat. Then a couple of minutes later, Donald appeared online.Donald told me Mickey said we should go for a drink. I said ok and we did, later.

Cool, I just found out Donald had blocked me online that day.

It was weird, but it wasn’t a big deal. I don’t particularly initiate chats unless I actually have something I need to say. We had hardly chatted online too, so figuring that I was exclusively blocked for some reason, I didn’t see a need to keep Donald in my list.

A few weeks ago, a chat window popped up onscreen. It was Donald, who asked if I wanted to get together for dinner with some friends. We chatted a little, and Donald mentioned we hadn’t chatted online for quite a while. I told him I’m always contactable, and besides he had my number. I also told him, he could always feel free to chat with me when he wanted to, when I was online. Donald laughs and said I could say hi too. I laughed and told him I had already removed him from my contact list on MSN.

I haven’t heard from Donald since. *LOL*

It’s normal that friends may maintain an interest in their friends’ lives. Many of us keep tabs on friends online, even if we may not have contacted each other for some time. That’s why many of us maintain blogs or profiles on networking sites like Facebook, MySpace, Friendster, Twitter or Plurk. We're updating our friends on our lives or thoughts and getting updates from them whenever.

Privacy is important and fair. We could have profiles that we don’t want the general public to see and so we keep it to only our friends and family.

If there is something I’d rather keep to myself, I wouldn’t even put it up.

But having a special mention in a block list is just a tad too special. I maintain blocklists for a reason. But I also know its quite impossible to truly block anyone in particular, so I only do it when it’s a spammer or someone I do not wish to see at any time. Imagine for example, being told of something a good friend posted online. Only to discover anyone can see it, except you. Yes, that means you’ve been exclusively excluded. I’m sure you’d feel very special too. :-P

When someone I consider a good friend etc, exclusively marks me out for a special mention in a block list somewhere somehow, I don’t think I need to give an explanation on why I lose interest in anything that person does or goes through.

I’m there if I’m needed as a friend, but on my own time and left to my own devices I won’t bother to preoccupy myself with the Donalds in my life. Or presumably out of my life.

A Special Wish For You

Merry Christmas darlin'

We're apart that's true

But I can dream and in my dreams

I'm Christmas-ing with you

Pub Wars - Part 1

A long long time ago (ok, so it wasn't really that long),
in a galaxy far far away (ok ok, so its really a pub thats not really that far away either)...

Liam Neeson made a secret visit to a pub where I was chilling out. Ok so its just someone who looks like him, but it just made me feel like Yoda.

Since its unlikely I'd see the real ones, my next hope is to see other lookalikes. Examples would include Jessica Alba, which would just give me a fantastic time. And yes, Megan Fox, who'd hopefully play with my bumblebee and make me feel like Optimus Prime.

The force is in me. Now who wants to play with my lightsaber?

2009 - Year of the Bull

And the bull sure had a great time decorating every patch of greenery in my life with dung. It’s been a delightful year with thrills that can only be felt by an eunuch watching porn.

People have been asking me, so what have I been up to lately?

Well, I’ve been breathing. It’s a really exciting hobby. All the thrills of a roller coaster running on a meter long track. Usually I would go for the common enjoyment of drawing breath through my nose, but sometimes I feel really adventurous and draw deep gulps of air with my open mouth.

Just the other day, I sneezed. You can imagine how incredibly awesome it was. Almost like the memorable coughing fit I had several weeks ago. The release of phlegm was truly the epitome of fun in wild October. One could almost say it was orgasmic. I would, if I could remember what an orgasm is. For all I know, the phlegm could’ve been dead zombie sperm that got bored sleeping and broke out of their hibernation pods below the old rusty rocket.

Breathing can be a wonderful hobby. I do it all the time, even in the midst of other fun activities. Just the other day, I was so engrossed in breathing; I stayed up all night watching a two-hour long cinematic excrement on TV. The movie was so exciting I almost wanted to stab myself. But I was too engrossed with breathing and too lazy to move my butt.

Won’t be long now, before Christmas arrives. I’ve a good feeling this holiday season will be exceptional. The anticipation is akin to the thrilling wait for an elevator to arrive while standing in the wrong building. In fact, the only thing that could beat this feeling would be the New Year. I await the coming of 2010, like a constipated man waiting for diarrhea.

The downside of my wild uninhibited lifestyle (as anyone can see from my wild activities described above), is that very few people can accept my unbridled passion for life. Even my shadow refuses to talk to me now. But so what, everybody leaves, I don’t care anymore. I greet each new day with the same unbridled kick everyone gets when they enter a toilet cubicle right after some fucker, who didn’t flush.

Die, you motherfucking bull.

If Tomorrow Never Comes

What once was, will always be.

Love never ends,

even if memories are all I can see.

I'm glad to know you're happy.

May joy and blessings be upon you.

I love you.

But it doesn't matter anymore.

I will lie to myself from now on,

and forevermore...

Waves of Oblivion

The huge waves at the foreign beach have always been, and still are an irresistible draw to my every sense. The feel of the ocean’s power and the relative safety of its surf and so much more, makes me want to return every year, whenever I can.

A single look at its beauty, pulls at my every fibre. Drawing me towards its embrace.

Perhaps it was only eventual that I discovered the other side of its siren call. Bliss and pure thrill, turned into an everlasting moment of non-realisation that I could have drowned and be with my beloved sea. Forever.

The low tides, brought upon a tremendously strong rip current, which I normally never had a real problem with. Swimming against the current, and trying to swim with the waves had totally exhausted me out, but I just kept going and eventually reached a friend who managed to pull me closer to shore.

I never thought I might have died, nor was I overly concerned, except that my mind seem singularly focused on swimming back to shore, to life. That perhaps I might hold you again.

I could have probably died. But I am alive.

You draw me irresistibly whenever I see you, as little as it may be now. You have a new life now. Perhaps an ocean away from my dead pond. And I can feel the chasm you have put between us even when you are near. Perhaps I am a fool. Perhaps I am human. And perhaps, I am just caught in the waves again.

I am happy to watch the waves from afar. Perhaps I shall return to the waves soon, when I can. I am unable to tolerate this cold cave and this life if I had not a hope to see the beautiful ocean once more.

But this time, I no longer have a reason to swim back to shore. Perhaps the waves can bring me away, someday.

A Little Bird Told Me ...

Sometimes, just sometimes,
something happens.
Something that makes u smile
and forget about what you could never seem to forget.

At least, for a little while.

As always, I was just going through the now humdrum road of life, waiting to step into the pothole of death. My stomach commandeered my body and made me cook some porridge for lunch. As I was bringing the steaming hot bowl of porridge to eat at the table, something flew around my head. First reaction was to duck and wonder, "WTF! How the hell did a cockroach grow that big?!". It was fluttering all around my shoulders and back of my neck, and I was surprised I didn't drop the bowl of porridge, while doing my startling "avoid the big bug attacking my head" kung fu technique.

Then it flew away for a while and stood on the window sill. It was a bird. A cute little dark yellow bird (of which species, I do not know), which looked like a pet someone may have kept. I put the bowl down, and again it flew to me, and this time I stood still and watched as it landed on my shoulder and just stood there. I felt like a sissy pirate.

I thought I'd lead it to the window and let it fly away, but it didn't. It flew to me wherever I went. Perching on my hand, my arms and my shoulders whenever it got close to me. It was just too adorable. I took a small tray of water and placed it at the table, and it went ahead to take a drink and even bathed and splshed around in it for a while. Then I cooked a spoonful of rice and fed it on another tray. Placing the small tray of rice on the table as well, I put some grains into my palm. Amazingly, it flew onto my hand instead of the tray. After feeding it for some time, I went about my own business and it followed me into every room I went. It was just a really nice feeling again to feel "wanted". Haha.

Then I decided to sit down and just spend some time with it. Sadly (and ironically), it then decided to fly away. In the space of an hour, it came, cheered me up and then, it was gone.

Its pretty amazing how a little bird can brighten a day, even for a short moment in time. But its something I can learn to keep in my mind and cherish, I guess.

Perhaps God wanted me to smile again. Thank you my Lord. And perhaps also to remind me, that nothing in this world can truly give me any longlasting or everlasting joy. To remind me that I was just being a fool. Perhaps it was a fool who smiled today, even for a little while. But it was something. A little nugget of gold, along this putrid road of life.

Nobody stays, they all leave, in the end. And most likely even way before the end. But still, I will remember it, and also thank the Lord that He gave me something.

Anything.

Everything.

Losing Everything

Silence with glowing hatred
With that I bled
Refusing to go through with it again
Can't do anything but remain.

Everything is always against my will
Wanting promises to fulfill
Having no shred of hope
Knowing I could never cope

Nothing worth fighting for
Wouldn't eat anymore
Losing my self esteem
along with my happy dream

Faces in the mirror
Wishing it to be clearer
After all, I'm nothing
from losing everything

- Grace Angelia