Better day.

I write my first song back in 2002, when I was in form four.

Yes, it was in English and it was about a stupid boy and a pretty girl whom he bumped into every morning while waiting for the bus. The smiles and the morning coldness that they both shared, the arguments and the tears that they shed, the dreams; I turn it all into a song.

I create the melody, write the lyrics but never have I succeed with the musical part. That's pretty much because I didn't fucking know of how to work a fucking musical instruments. Up until now.

Just few minutes ago, I saw this girl profile on facebook. I remember her name on the performer's list during the book launching event, months back. I didn't watch her performances, thought.

If there is any case that she read this, just so that she know that if she was in need of a material, I have this nine-years-old-masterpiece that I hold for long enough.

And no, it wasn't a punk song.

Rules #5 : A stranger's death.

The last time when someone make a fucking review about this blog, he ask me to show my appreciation towards my readers. I read it quite a few times to figure out what does it mean by this 'appreciate the readers' term.

Maybe I need to reply to their comments. Or visit their blog back and stamp that appreciation shit on their blog; sounds stupid enough when I don't even give a damn read of what they fucking write.

Truth is I don't care.

I didn't get paid for writing this shit so I don't have any time to waste going for your shit and read. This blog, it didn't have an expiry date. It dies when I want it to be. When I died. Tomorrow, next week, next month, who give a damn.

And the readers, they came and go.

I've placed a list of blog that I do prefer to read here. Some of which I haven't step in for quite sometime.

Keep holding on.

My trainer said that at some point of life, we need to let go all the feelings or secret that we hold inside. Cry, laugh, curse or do whatever necessary.

Share it. Because this will somehow help us to feel better. That our life will never be haunted by this 'feeling' again. That we won't have it presence all around us where ever we go.

"How can you go forward if you can't let go of your past?" He said.

I beg to differ.

I had too many of this sorrow story that if I decided to make a movie out of it, I'll sure beat the likes of Ziela Jalil bare-handed. But did I share it with others? No. Do I have this 'feeling' presence around me when I'm with my friends?

Well, maybe.

But I prefer to take one thing at a time. And I rarely turn my head back. That is how I survive.

The Ambiguity.

I am now personally think that being a gay or a lesbian is holier than telling and spreading lies. Yup, the Ambiga-whatever-her-name-is, is wrong again to try and to provoke the authority by organizing this program without a permit but hey, what the fuck is wrong with Malaysia's TV stations?

It's not a sex party for god sake. It's a program to seek individual freedom concerning the sexual relations issues in Malaysia. And there is a big different between these fucking two.

Fuckers.

So this 'seksualiti merdeka' thingy, they have 'makan-makan' or not?

Breaking down.

It was during this team building shit when we have to join into this counselling session where we have to share with others on what we have been through in all our years. We need to draw things and then relate it to our story.

I'm actually done with my part when this trainer suddenly came out with this question;

"When was the last time you cry?"

I stood there in silence. Truth is I really can't remember the last time I cry but I was pretty much sure that it was quite a number of years ago. And as I struggle to recall it, another question hit me.

"When was the last time, those who loves me cry?"

No, he didn't ask that and I thanks god for his not.

Sex, dream and jeans #6.

I always have this believe that a good looking men should go out or fall in love with a good looking women. In a way where a honorable gentleman make a perfect match for lovely lady and as the bad guys and the bad girls fall for each other's lies.

That nobody will question or doubt their loves for each other. You know, we saw a young beautiful women holding hands with an aging men and we goes;

"She's going for his money, ain't she?"

Fucknny.