Sunspots

 18 tahun kemudian matahari terbenam,
Belakang Puncak Alam,
Next to the international museum,
The sun never sets,
Dalam sinaran mentari,
Aku mengira titik-titik muka mu, yang ku cium,
Mencari makna, melawan arus mimpi.

"Apa yang kau tulis?"
"Perasaan tak cukup kata
Pabila menjiwai rasa rindu ku,
kepada bulan-Bulan yang sudah tiada"

Hari ini aku berasa selesa.

Our Trip to the Movies

You smiled. wearing your best zombie suit
Holding my hand long enough,
For the usher to see you,
And for the last time,
And for all eternity,
They slaughtered Death in front of our very eyes,
When we haven't bought the tickets to see the show

Are they worried to be kind,
In case they accidentally love a monster?
Pass me the popcorn, honey,
We're good at pretending we belong here

Come and put your head under your legs,
And see the world upside down,
With the ocean above you,
And the beach in line with your frown.

But you're smiling now.

Rome

This train doesn't go where I want to go,
The map doesn't say where I'm from,
The ads that are selling all these budget flights to Rome,
Don't know what is there yet to come.

Backstage, we know more than we used to,
About all the heroes we love,
We talked about things we were pressured to do,
But it's my free will that chooses to love you,

I don't mind,
Every time,
You speak in a language you barely understand,
Just to learn about life,
In clumsy ways that could lead to our demise

This train doesn't know where we want to live,
It knows that we're far from where we came,
We stopped at a farm where we didn't want to be,
But we made some good friends anyway,

Old age chases all and knows no one it can spare
In pinky swears, we've chosen to care,
The darkest of stories will wait on us you see,
We'll have dinner, we will pay, but never leave.

It's your smile,
Every line,
They speak in a language that doesn't seem to end
Like a book about time,
Convincing us that everything is fine.


This train doesn't let us bring our pet inside,
Unless we were different or blind,
To people who don't want to look into our eyes,
It's fine, we'll just walk instead, this time.

Barely waged, not too late,
I try not to break my back for a boss I tolerate,
Just to be, home with you,
We'll have fun having nothing much to do.

It's the wine,
Maybe nine,
For dreams to be real as the time we both cried,
When your favourite uncle died
After telling us we'll never be alive.


For dreams, for dreams, for dreams,
Are alright
I'm just tired of things fading when I open my eyes.
There's the flower that I gave when we first said goodbye
Both our phones are now dead, so no pictures tonight.

Right As Rain

"It's raining really badly over here"

"Oh yeah? Everything's alright up here. The sun. Blue skies.The neighbours were playing on their trampoline. Who even buys trampolines anymore?"

"That's cool! Show me a picture. No, no, wait. Record it"

"Really though. These people are lower middle class, much like most of this neighbourhood. They have a small patch of patio in their backyard. They barely have any grass. But they choose to fit in a trampoline at the back of their house anyway".

"I think it's charming"

"I guess so"

"What would you have them put?"

"A garden"

"Maybe their kids are the rowdy types. They need some bounciness in their lives"

"I guess. I just..it looks really squashed in between everything. Could be dangerous?"

"Is this..."

"Like Rear Window except I'm not in a wheelchair?"

"Am I Grace Kelly?"

"What?"

"In that movie. She's in it right?"

"I don't remember. Could be. I don't know much about that era of cinema. Every actor looks like a corruption or an improvement from Warren Beatty or James Stewart".

"Pretty sure those two aren't from the same era"

"No? Well, goes to show"

"Do you think that when you really love something, you have to know every single detail about it?"

"I don't know"

"I used to write notes, you know. On people I like. So that I remember their likes and dislikes. Like making my own posts on GameFAQs or something. It's strange now that I think about it. Takes the romance out of it everything"

"Funny thing is that a lot of romance is planned"

"Really?"

"Yeah, I mean if you think of the capital R, Romance, but also the lowercase r, romance, it's all derived from story in which a character is spontaneously expressive or emotional about their love for someone right? Grand gestures or small. We fall in love with the spontaneity, but the spontaneity was written, way before".

"Right"

"So you gotta work behind the scenes. I mean don't tell people you write notes about them. Just remember it. They like the thought of you remembering it"

"What if they find it? I mean wouldn't that be romantic too? I've seen movies with scenes like that. I think"

"Yeah, but I think in those movies, the diary or journal or whatever is found after someone dies right?"

"Right"

"I guess you can't hit on me now"

"Hahah wait what? I wasn't..wait why?"

"You told me you write notes about people"

"Used to. Also-"

"-means you can't be romantic with me anymore"

"You think someone is gonna read this and think 'Oh this is the cringey part where they comment on the conversation they're having where all the little flaws are exposed that's supposed to prevent them from falling for each other but they do anyway'"

"There has to be a name for that on The AV Club. Like on their list of film tropes. Every Netflix coming of age romance has something like that"

"Yeah! Or sexual deviancy"

"What?"

"No, as in...ugh I don't like that word 'deviancy'. I mean you know, sexual diversity. Like there's this movie trailer I saw about this Asian girl who feels alone in this outback town on the mountains. She gets to know a guy who likes a girl, and she helps him write a love letter for her. Turns out she likes her too! And I think she likes both the guy and the girl. Like the tagline is "Love isn't just about finding the perfect half""

"Hey...I wanna say 'that's interesting'

"Haha what, say it".

"That's interesting"

"Yeah, but I feel like when they know that's what they're doing it gets more difficult"

"They?"

"Yeah, filmmakers"

"As in, you don't have to be on-the-nose about it?"

"On-the-nose?"

"Yeah. Like too obvious. Don't make that the point of the story"

"Why are there so many rules in storytelling when there are so many kinds of stories"

"I think it's coz we're all attempting to find some universal way to tell the best ones"

"Isn't it weird that this is a blogpost where you're writing a dialog between two people, but you don't know who the people are?"

"They're you and I"

"Who are we?"

"You know how earlier this quarantine, I was talking about stream-of-consciousness. Like I should just write with automatism, like the Surrealist Manifesto Andre Breton right. Like I shouldn't plan things, I should write what I feel without structure. Just the impression of my thoughts"

"This is ceasing to become a conversation, you're just explaining things now"

"Yeah, well I decided maybe this time, I frame the stream-of-consciousness thing like a conversation between two people. Because you know, consciousness is about conversations you have with yourself anyway, the awareness that there is an inside you and an outside you is a consciousness"

"You can't just have the other guy, aka me say 'Yes' all the time. That feels self-absorbed. You don't wanna do that"

"What if I snap-"

"-in two"

"Or...what if I feel less alone"

"Then you wouldn't need me really. You just need you"

"Why isn't this thing I'm writing on a thing we talk to"

"Yeah but it's not responding"

"Sometimes you have two human beings talk to each other, but only one person really says anything"

"This is getting stupid. Aren't you gonna go sleep and masturbate?"

"Hm. Play some Stardew Valley maybe"

"You were supposed to get your shit together. Tomorrow's Ramadhan"

"What does that mean to us?"

"Nothing"

"Well?"

"Still, deadlines. Maybe the air of ritual makes it easier to discipline yourself"

"Sigh, I'm gonna start praying again huh"

"Probably"

"You're doing really well"

"Me?"

"Yeah. You just need to write things down, dedicate yourself to a word-count per day, and you're set. Even if it is three essays"

"3000-word essays. Oh hey notice how I'm not the advisor anymore? I'm the advisee"

"Stop commenting on it"

"This makes me think about Community"

"Dan Harmon saying that all of the characters are just different versions of him?"

"Aren't all characters made by filmmakers and authors like that?"

"It's strange"

"I'm sleepy"

"How do we do this without cue signs. Maybe we'd be more real if we yawned or something or we said things with qualifications at the end, like if I say something angrily, it would say "he said 'angrily'", he said with circumspect

"But we don't want to be real"

"No, I guess not"

"Oh man it's gonna be a long day tomorrow. I never could use that literally. Like...because there are seasons here. So days do get longer"

"I said I was going to sleep"

"Okay. You'll probably be awake later anyway. Just not in text form"

"Let me sleep"

"Okay"

"No, I mean it. Get me out of this conversation"

Okay.

THE PATH IS SECURED

Get off the loop

Just Submit The Damn Thing

Yesterday, I felt triumph for a brief moment. It was due to my finishing a press release I have agreed to work on a couple of days ago. I'm trying my best to hold on to those feelings so that I crave it in my other 4 unfinished essays. Last term I knew that this term was going to be busy, yet I'm still treating it like I have all the time in the world. Like an essay that I can just conjure out of thin air even though I know it requires months of research to fully internalise the things I have to write.

Sure, maybe I didn't do that either with my essays last term and I scored pretty decently, but it sure as hell is going to be more difficult to wing 5 essays in comparison to two. Goddammit, I only had two essays to write last term that is nuts.

Anyway, tomorrow is when the hardwork starts. The only way I know how; scheduling all of the things I'm not supposed to be doing when there's only a week left before deadlines in between my short writing stints and cramming everything in the last minute anyway. I'm trying to compress that timeframe into every weekday, so that I do a shit ton of productive stuff. My thought process goes like this: if I panic everyday I get more done.

Instilling the panic is hard.

Today, one of my favourite YouTubers, Brian Jordan Alvarez (whom I've suspected but now have confirmed knowledge is a multi-talented genius) was riffing on on one of his 'formless chats'. He brought up journalling, and how you're trying to grasp at every memory before it fades away because even the most beautiful things tend to get misremembered. There's also the excitement of putting everything down ON SOMETHING (paper, blog, social media statutes, well not InstaStories because they eventually disappear) while it's still fresh.

Putting my mind to that now. Nothing much happened today. Wondered while I washing the dishes and the red soap started bubbling up in the washing dish tray whether I should reconfirm with Claudia, just so you know I really like her. Would that be too early to say openly even though there have been hints and compliments and flirtatious overtones throughout? If I say it too early will it mean even less the longer we have to be in this Covid-19 lockdown, because I'd have to spend more time giving her something to look forward to?

Will I even be around? Is the supervolcano in Yellowstone going to erupt this year?

I don't know.

SciShow released a video today about 4 Things That Are Evolving In Humans Right Now. Pretty cool stuff. Some of them include resistance to arsenic poisoning that some indigenous Andean populations have developed, others include the increasing of average height (with nutrition taken into consideration of course), human alleles changing against the development of Alzheimers in future human generations (which, if the trends continue, is good news) and I think one more was our ability to drink milk. Have to watch that again.

I realise this journalling thing - back when I did it in my early years of college - was also supposed to be a documentation of the things I learned. All of the videos I watch, the articles I read, the books I peruse, those things shouldn't fade away. They should be written down, memorised by the forces of muscle movements subconsciously associating and dissociating raw facts with action. Raw information, sorry.

But, as you can tell from all of the stupid posts I've been posting recently (well, not stupid, maybe 'formless (formless is slowly becoming my new favourite word), I've been more inclined to document emotions and experiences that are not just data - that are automatistic manifestations of myself and the things I feel. Ugh so stupid.

I had other thoughts.

Oh, several years down the line since I've first thought of it, I still think human beings are the coolest in spite of everything because we can leave legacies beyond genetic codes. From scientific knowledge to viral videos.

Hopefully, we all stick around. Anyway, wish me luck, Journal (not sure whether to anthropomorphise this blog yet).

Wait A Minute

A shard of glass stuck in between your wrist bone, you stop for a moment to consider the pain of everything you felt when you were 17. Leaving an old world for a new one, inviting friends over to a chapter you never thought possible because of all of the times you wished you were gone. But now you're here. Enclosed by the notion of infinite possibilities brought to you by the kind people of Nokia. The corporate heads who marketed your phone to you that now plays music for your solitude in the modes of indie rock or classic folk songs. You know, now once and for all, that this is not the time for you, or anyone else that you love, to die.

That alone is enough

Ombak Pemodenan Melanda Cinta Selamanya

I did a bad job of waking up today, like most days. Driven by the complacency from the number of hours I always presume to possess.

So today I was unproductive again, in one sense. Played a lot of Stardew Valley. The nature of my addiction is easy enough to parse; I'm hooked on the more immediate sense of gratification this virtual farming sim gives me.

Not only that, but the gratification also is not that immediate. It rewards patience, adherence to mundane routines, discipline, but within a shorter span of time. All of the things I can't possibly muster in my condition.

My condition is exaggerated, of course. Aku bukanlah terseksa atau kebuluran. Sebenarnya, aku malas.

Despite all of that I still did a lot of cool things today. Made myself Kari Salman. Continued on my conversations with Claudia, although I'm starting to feel that it's more one-sided. Everyone's got their priorities straight except me.

I've been thinking about my time here in London. My lack of effort, really, in finding jobs and a direction just so I can stay here. It's a lie I tell myself, that all I need is the right context, and I will be pushed into motivation.

What's the point of questioning if free will for the sake of imbecilic sophistication just so I could tell myself over and over again not to do anything.

Aku sepatutnya melawan sistem, bukan menjadi hamba nafsu dan naluri.

Aku pun sekarang ketagih Cherdleys. Asalnya, aku tertarik dengan manusia-manusia yang ada dalam video-video channel itu - kebanyakannya dari segi seksual. Kemudian aku sedar yang aku juga tertarik dengan hidup dan personaliti mereka.

Ni semua sebab rindu kawan-kawan yang aku bernasib baik boleh jumpa di sini. Otak aku mahu mencipta satu "simulation" untuk aku berteduh.

This weekend I can't bum off anymore. I'll do better.

The small steps matter, too, I guess.

Sans Meaning

Scared off the possibility,
I might be alone, in my sickness,
Lost in a dream,
A dream,
A dream

A dream,
I dreamed of you.

In full view you go and mess with my aching decision to run,
Bought all the groceries for the house,
I'm done,
With playing
Cowboys and cowgirls,
With me, in the crosshair

I've told you countless of times before we craved,
The next episode, the next new wave,
We lost
We lost
It all to the ages.

Don't count to three, I am far away from you, six feet to the left,
Six times I've been used,
By an advertising agency,
To run a test for me,
Run my test ahead.

I know what I'm doing is good, I'm just bad at doing it.

I' know what I'm doing is half-hearted

Later, we control the silence, just keep turning the knob, the neighbours won't hear

I'm not gonna call porn virtual affection anytime soon, just for the sake of a song.

I went out today for two hours. The longest I've been out. Also sweating under my jacket. It's Springtime now. No need for jackets.

Guy at the counter looked at me weird for buying lube.

Promised myself I'd do work today, but dilly-dallied as always.

At least I've opened the other proposal for reference. I know what I plan to do. I just need to decide how to actualise it in the real world.

Stupidly took a job from JIN. I can do it. I have time. I need money. Also I need to feel like I'm an adullt again. Not some dawdling student with no life plans.

Going to sleep at a reasonable time tonight so I will wake up at a reasonable hour to do work.

Asquereso (Disgusting)

Way beyond the sun's routine,
Is a man with a promise to the world,
And a fist-clenched, fingers-curled,
But no more,
Does it all fade,
Into cellulite.

Into cellulite

Where do we go when we don't know,
The content overflows,
Like a bastard in the throes,
Of a magician
Telling stories.

Telling stories.

Tonight I seek your attention deficit,
Something more than just a dance,
Inside my calmy, little hands,
When I awoke your sense of doubt,
Post-calling-me-a-lout,
I'm not allowed.

To see you.

These quiet walls are quite rearview material

I don't intend on looking back but it's true.


To some degree,
To some a lot of masters,
Choosing modern slavery,
So the options are asunder, but they're there
Like the thought of starting over,
Free will and free hors d'oeuvres,

What's not to like

Like you.

Lambat Lah Kau

Dah pukul 4 pagi,
Kau masih di sini
Tak nak tidur sampai kerja siap,
Padahal kerja tak siap pun,
Siapa suruh pentingkan benda lain dulu,
Kenapa kau macam ni,
Bukan dulu kau belajar macam mana nak pilih ke?
Ke kau liat tengok semua orang memilih haluan kehidupan mereka, jadi engkau tak mahu memilih langsung?
Tidak memilih pun kira memilih juga,,
Kau tak boleh menang

A List of Things to Squeeze In Between (Non-Existent) Hours

Chat. Do. Chat. Do. Chat. Do. Call mum.



I had a mild panic attack today. Kickstarted by my running out of eggs. Eventually I found a shop that delivers them. I've adopted my mum's paranoia, and refused to go to the store unless I can't help it. I mocked her for so long, but I've internalised her constant reprimand. I don't think I'll be going to parks any longer.

Anyway today was the most productive day of all time. But the other reason why I had the mild panic attack was because I thought about cutting off one of my interests from my schedule so that I can make time for things that actually matter to me.

Everything matters to me.

Chat. Do. Chat. Do. Chat Do.

I hoard experiences. Funny, for a man dengan dinding yang kosong, satu gambar pun takdak. Gambar-gambar poskad hasil seni yang hang dapat dari muzium kat Vienna je jadi teman.

Experiences, pengalaman dalam kepala. Kau nak borak pasal movie, muzik, buku, meme, semua benda kau nak tahu. Kau sumbat. Sumbat semua. Tak nak buat apa-apa yang bermanfaat dalam hidup kau, kau tukang telan je. TELAN.

TELAN.

TELAN.

Esok kau muntah balik tengok siapa yang suka. Siapa suka gelak/tak gelak/marah/gelisah

Mein Geliebte

The most life-changing thing that happened to me today was a movie called Jojo Rabbit.

I wrote about my thoughts on it (the ones I could pen/type onto an Instagram post without feeling like I'm copy-pasting even though I bet my thoughts weren't original at all). So this post isn't going to be about that.

As of now, I'm in regular conversation with my something I"ve taken a fancy for, Claudia Fricker.

I think due to the conflicting schedules of our lives, even in this time of quarantine, it has prevented us from really talking as frequently as we should. But I feel like when we do, our conversations have been easy. I don't know whether it's a crush, but her offers of teaching me how to ride a bicycle in the park and frollicking around int he summer have been symptomatic of that feeling.

Eee, symptomatic.

Anyway, went off routine again today. Couldn't get myself out of bed early enough so I didn't get to do an all-day gaming session that I planned before. Planning to squeeze in a couple of hours anyway before I sleep. Tomorrow will be Music Day, as in I'll be writing reviews for all of the tracks I've promised myself to write reviews for.

Aku sedar aku suka putar belit. Percakapan aku menunjukkan satu sifat kucar-kacir. Aku suka roller-coaster minda dengan harapan yang dalam kekecohan perbualan ada momen-momen ketenangan, walhal hikmah.

Namun, akademia memaksakan aku menjadi lebih tulus dan jujur.

Mabuk.

Tak mampu lagi menulis.

Hari ini cukup memuaskan.

Aku Penat

Hi, Self.

Hari ini hari ke-?? aku kuarantin. Ketika awal pagi, aku terima markah untuk esei aku bagi subjek Music Business. Lowest score I've ever gotten in the duration of my Masters. I misunderstood the purpose of the assignment, but gave up on fixing it because I was more inclined on sending it. Getting it over with. My lecturer, Caspar, was very gratuitous and encouraging in his comments and would like to see me finish my thoughts on the importance of record store in the current Malaysian (specifically, Greater Kuala Lumpur) music scene.

I was disappointed with myself for a while but the daily routines I follow eventually washed over all of those feelings. I guess I'm supposed to feel motivated, tetapi aku rasa lebih pasrah dengan realiti.

'Realiti' bagi aku merupakan satu alasan. Hidup yang singkat tidak sepatutnya diisi dengan benda remeh seperti gred atau hubungan aku sesama manusia. 'Realiti' adalah hakikat hidupku yang Satu. Sesuatu yang aku cuba penuhi dengan media, seakan dadah yang membuatkan aku menjelajahi perspektif manusia lain supaya aku tidak rasa terperangkap dengan perspektif aku sendiri.

Kadang-kala, aku pijak balik ke bumi nyata - masyarakat konstruk, fana yang menjadi matlamat bagi semua manusia yang mencari kerjaya yang stabil supaya mereka boleh Makan.

I guess I have to do that soon. Deadlines are coming up.

Anyway, watched Stuck In Love today. Horribly cheesy movie, but it's great to have people on-screen living lives with momentary conflict, with resolution, so I don't feel so alone.

Aku tulis lagu dalam imaginasi aku sebelum aku tidur semalam. I called it 'BS Made of Glass'. Aku ingat nak judulkan post ini dengan tajuk tersebut, tapi aku tak tersebut.

Hari ini aku rasa kurang carca-marba. Aku dapat fokus.

Aku kena fokus.

Terpaksa.

I have to.

So I can stop depending on people I don't want to depend on and go back to 'enriching' my life with other people's 'stories' again.

These eyes are mine and mine alone, but I have to feed them with things more than distractions to keepp them seeing.

Aku penat.

Ee

HARI PERTAMA MENULIS (PRIMER DIA DE ESCRITURA)

Had a blanket day today. Can't seem to get up for most of sun-light. Following this new circle system so that I can get my life in order, scheduling all the fun times and the not-so-fun-times in a way that progresses like a wheel within a wheel within a wheel. Like my own exercise wheel, but I'm a rat with a mission(s).

Today the number of covid-19 cases have officially surpassed the 1 million mark. Of course, this doesn't mean the numbers are accurate considering that some countries might underreport and the numbers only tell the story of those who are tested, when there are a whole slew of people who have not even gotten close to accessing the proper facilities.

I'm regurgitating the news. It's my idea of a diary now. My daily reports on life. Just an idea so far. I've only started doing this today. I'm trying to decide whether to make this a more orderly endeavour, where my deftness in writing is put to the test. Where I sharpen my wit, lengthen my prose, nay, deepen it. Figure out the music to my madness. Or (notice how the way this whole paragraph is formed is already butchered by the number of sentences I've put after a sentence considering the word 'whether'), just a platter of streams-of-consciousness. A petri dish of muck.

I realised recently that how I've lived life straddle this line of order and chaos. Yuck. That's hackneyed.

(I know how to change my language settings to stop correcting my British English spellings into American English but I choose not to. I like the thought of a bunch of code scolding me for not sticking to my mythical American roots. The roots I've cultivated over a long period of Hollywoodization and MTV-ization as a child and as an unwitting adolescent.

I'm not going to be particular about grammar in these things that's for sure. Sometimes, neither spelling. I might even entertain the idea of using these blog posts as a way for me to actually improve on the languages I'm learning or polishing my Malay mother tongue.

Polishing a tongue sounds like a painful act.

Anyway, asyik asyik cakap Bahasa Inggeris je bosan lah.

I've stopped talking about my day, ya allah, mari kita kembali ke haluan asal.

Aku sekarang tengah tengok episode ke-5 siri Critical Role. Aku rasa dinamik mereka sebagai satu kempen D&D sangat menghiburkan. Mungkin kerana mereka semua kawan dan selesa bersama. Walaupun begitu, kadang-kadang aku terfikir jugak barangkali mereka semua sedang berlakon. Aku asyik terpandang Marisha Ray, tapi tertarik balik kepada Laura Bailey.

Semua tumbuhan-tumbuhan aku masih hidup, malah segar. Tahap kewarasan aku belum sampai situasi yang mendorong aku berbual dengan mereka. Mereka? Ia?

Aku makan agak lambat hari ini. Pukul 4. Roti bakar dengan Nutella yang aku sediakan pada pukul 11:30 dah lama hilang daripada zon kekenyangan usus aku.

Buat Duolingo pun lambat. Semakin lama semakin lambat. Hari ini salah satu daripada komposer dan penyanyi band Fountains of Wayne meninggal. Adam Schlesinger. Kat Instagram aku terletak gambar Chris Collingwood. Lalai. Malas nak baiki.

Aku rasa aku nak belajar fasih dalam Bahasa Sepanyol dulu. Kebanyakan daripada bahasa-bahasa yang aku pilih untuk belajar dari Duolingo ialah bahasa-bahasa bekas penjajah Tanah Melayu/Malaya/yang macam jantung pisang tertonjol dari benua Asia Tenggara. Mungkin aku benci diri sendiri, asal-usul aku, mungkin aku tengok terlalu banyak anime dan Narcos.

Makan makanan semalam. Sedap sangat Sambal Terasi yang aku masak dengan udang semalam. Dah habis. Aku letak terlalu banyak sampai perut aku rasa nak meletup daripada kepedasan. Semalam suffer bro. Muy mal.

Hmm.

Perlukah blog ni terperinci sangat? Khusus sangat? Abang Bront text aku hari ini. Aku takdak emosi. Dulu sebenanrnya aku malas (sekarang pun sama), tapi pandai berlakon rajin. Berlakon rajin tu satu skil. Kemahiran hidup.

Tapi aku rasa semua benda aku buat tak ikhlas sebab aku takde disiplin.

Adui emo lah pulak.

Makin lama aku tulis dalam Bahasa Melayu makin aku tak nak cakap bahasa inggeris.

Por que? Yo no necesito habla idioma de conquistador

Tak perlu terperinci kot. Anyway it's 1 o'clock. Thinking of going to Tesco really early in the morning tomorrow. Hopefully there are eggs on the shelves. Sending out positive energy here, Universe. I don't pray anymore, I only work in energies.

Shalom. Salam 1 Milky Way.

Athena

Lost in a prudish city,
Caught me with my eyes upon the ground,
You mind your business like the fealty,
Droning on about the latest frowns and furls, in this chilly world.

The air, comforts you with snow
Vapor wishing well your health from long ago,
You're here to do degrees, inside an igloo,
Of control, we're too flamboyant,
For the morning people,
Craving for a soul.


Going to nightclubs,
In your traditional wear,
Caging the silence,
Of those who stare.
Urgently we hold hands,
To the rollercoaster railings, of a happy hour,
Losing power, to alcoholic fate.


Human simulation is just wishing that all your dreams come true,
In a way doesn't disappoint, like a writer wills a world,
To comfort his failings,
Sharkboy and lava girl.

"I'm taken, so this has to be heartless"
Wisdom of a nihilistic enchantress,
I choose to live inside,
My fiction tonight,
As it crushes my night in real darkness.

A full name is not given,
It's the parentless god, wishing to be a mystery,
Only leaving lipstick marks on history,
Don't mind me,
I just miss the mist,
Laced with bad EDM when walking through the park
At 5 AM.

Bring out your flowy sleeves,
You ask me when I'm going to leave,
The plane is landing on the sidewalk,
Of your whimsical daydream,
Acknowledging the facts are true,
You're a fantasy for a summertime in June.

Fake

I grew up in a world obsessed with being real,

Trying to make it my every priority,
When it's barely my ordeal,
They ask me "Girl what is the foundation of your being,
Surely not the foundation you're wearing,
Here found on your facial features,
Is your actual self,

Stop lying and deceiving other people who want to see,
Their future in you,
With your lipstick puckered,
And your mascara uncovered
Also,
It looks more natural too"


Well I'm sorry,

That I wasn't born with clothes on my back,
As I am sure that when you came out from your mother's pussy,

It was with polyester t-shirts stuck to your chest,
Since you don't subscribe to anything at best,

Unless they are natural too?

The complicated truth,
Is that millions of beautiful wonders,
Do not come from an earthly womb,
Humans weren't made to play the violin,
We were not conceived with ridges on our fingers,
To ease the act of pressing strings for a chord to mesmerize a room,
Yet we practice and practice until the shivering timbre of thunder
Emanate from orchestras not made of clouds,

But of  carved steel and timber,
Composed or asunder
Til we've become indifferent to the pain of pressing metal,
In the pursuit of creating all that is magical,
But yet, not natural.

But then, 

You judge me for being fake, a mockery of authenticity,
Yet you use money, of which there is no inherent value,
The papers only by legal boards, central banking Edict & Virtue,
Does it hold worth in currency,

But I am not the current, see?
Not the oceans smitten by arbitrary winds - those monsoon breeze,
I build ships,
Armadas that do not sprout from the ground,
But from the trembling exertions of my aching hips,
Nailed, boarded, and christened,
Because, oh God, how I am bound,
To sail away from all your bullshit,
Accusing me of lacking sincerity,
As if my empathy,
Is based upon the shades of my lip kit.

Dear preacher, canonized,
Sainted by the Church of Conformity,
Noisier than the Vatican, hailing from Twitter City

I have read your scriptures, even let them read me
(Empty souls longing for community),
And I know you have no regard for what is natural
(We are not beasts, not animals)
You simply want to starve us off of our sense of self,
And delude us with some illusion of absolutes you nicknamed "normal",
Like trying to resurrect the laws of the jungle,
Where scurrying packs fear the unknown,
Obliterate all that they label "not understandable"

Well I am erasing all of your tick boxes and that is final,
I am not etched in stone,

The next time you whisper to your friends,
"Oh how plastic", as if it is not used to make prosthetic,
For the veteran who lost his arms during the war,
Or for the acid victim's surgery, attacked for what she wore,
Remind yourself that we all have our artificiality, 

We adore,
In our own amazing way,
Whether it's the computer-generated artistry,
We relish in our cinemas today,
Or the human-made flying machinery,
We long for (especially during delays),
Or the dreams we tell ourselves we will achieve someday,
Even if left under dusty floorboards of a decaying yesterday.

Note to self, dear reader:
We are special because we exceed the impossible,

What is otherwise limited by laws or physical barriers,
We overcome repeatedly since time immemorial,

It's the humankind career,
This obsession over what is natural,
Is clinical,
And to every degenerate still whining about makeup,
Our minds are made up,
This is the beauty I chose you see,
And nature has got nothing on me.

Shallow

You've been framed,
But not in blame,
Just put into a painting,
Permanent smiles,
In fashion aisles,
With no thoughts for your failings

So beam me better,
With laser scanners,
Bar codes on my conscience ,
So tell me dearest,
What's my problem,
What's my primal function.


Let's stay up, I'll make it clear,
You've become my fondest fear,
But I'm telling you to leave my side,
I'm telling you I have no more sides

Chorus:,
I am shallow,
I am shallow,
I am shallow,
I am shallow,
I hide behind my poetry,
And pretend I'm quirky ,
But when it gets too hard,
To minds, I pay no mind,
Oh I've loved the common things we find,
But if I wanna fuck, I want the model kind.

Self-entitled,
bottom feeder,
Fancy yourself a leader,
Social justice,
Beauty fascist,
Desire cares for neither.

Is it the porn?
Or all the scorn?
You feel from expectations?
They give you planets,
Photo sunsets
But you keep falling for conventions


I'll make it clear,
That you make me smile and that's probably why I'm here,
But I'm telling you to leave my side
Cause I say this without a tinge of pride.

Chorus:



Aku mampu menulis beribu puisi,
Kenapa kau mahu yang lagi ayu,
Busuknya, hawa nafsu,
Aku,
Kamu.

Ego

Inilah manusia,
Asal bukan ideologi sendiri,
Orang lain dituduh terpedaya belaka.

Tak kisahlah mereka,
Yang tulis liberal di atas panji,
Mahupun mereka,
Yang guna agama untuk jual diri.

Perbualan tamat,
Pabila dituduh tali barut budaya Barat ,
Persidangan khalas,
Tatkala dipanggil penyembah setia ustaz

Nilai hujah diketepikan,
Persoalannya,
Penghujah itu belajar UK ke,
Asal Kelantan?

Inilah manusia,
Asal bukan kepercayaan sendiri,
Orang lain dikhuatiri sesat belaka.

Jarang sesekali bertanya,
"Kalau aku yang sesat bagaimana pula?"

Kan semua orang dah terasa?

Livestream Philosofa

Lying on the couch sinking, thinking, inside the crevices of my cushions and mind,
Whoever has the nerve to call it the nervous system knows I'm constantly under a pile of proses, left behind,
Anxious, anxiety from ants excited to lie to me, want to lie with me,
While creeping up my body for the better good of some colony,
Or a queen, that I never said my 'yes's to, flipping through the channels and see what's flickering on the shiny tube,
I know that we're on the age of flat screens,
But why do all these TV shows depict such flat scenes, too many duped,
Two-dimensional,
And when your mouth is full, you have to mention all,
The ways in which society has taught you to be rational,
But all you feel is emotional, or appall,
National anthems, school halls
Nah, she nulls and ends them, screwball,
Inside my pinafore is the sound of a loud drum,
Beating "I've seen you before but I've only lived once and I'm 13 so how come"
In versions of pubescent dreams translated into mixtapes,
Recording all the times you said "I love you" and all they say is "this sounds great"

So here's the grate,
That locks me in, in sunlight,
Unemployed? Less annoyed if done right,
So I write,
Kalau setiap hari asyik nak mintak mak duit,
If  unsure just listen to the sound of angry fathers shout "If you want some Nike ticks on your bucket list,
Just do it"
It's just,
That I don't think I'm cut out for anyone's trust,
It's not just,
For most people whose complexion isn't fair,
When u wanna succeed, they get mad when some of us show our hair,
But that's neither here, nor there,
I end up talking about bigger things,
Coz the real personal stuff, gives me the scare,
But when it rings,
The telephone
Can sort of give me wings,
Coz hell is other people, but I'm other people to everything,
So I'm glad you didn't leave me alone

Even though you told me that you're sick of my homophones,
Though I turned off my Grindr, I relented and put my music on,
And call you up to talk about my Odyssey, these Homer phones,
This feels put on, but I carry on,
The faithless are the faceless sans a basis,
Funny what slows us down is usually the races,
And I'm not the predator,
But don't wanna be the prey,
So I'm stuck in endless loops of character,
And hardly able to pray,
Because I think it's because somebody once said that just because you're godless,
That should never really mean that you got less,
At stake, when they're burning witches at the stake,
Nobody wants to claim their mistakes,
I'm twenty three & eternity from nicotine & good steaks,
My heart doesn't beat as fast for you anymore, but maybe it's the smokes,
Not my losing interest in you, or that we were a joke

Remember when Osama bin Laden was shot in '11,
When bin Laden's body was bullet laden and we thought of heaven,
About to enter college, so our future came in many shapes,
Foggy, but illustrated in form, like if Gandalf vapes

But now around me I'm just building up my fences,
Drawing squiggly lines around love and other chances, dances,
Cigarettes, war, old age and romances,
It's easy to beautify when you're not facing the consequences.

Is probably the moral of this poem fuck I think I'll just end this.