perfectlyimperfect

I moved out to somewhere closer to my workplace. So Emak and my sisters came to visit my house. I think my house is pretty decent, and it can be awesome if you really look at it with an open mind. The rent is considerably cheap since it's in Shah Alam. That includes air and api. Plus there's fridge, stove and washing machine. On top of that there's a flat HD TV with Astro Beyond for some astronomical high definition goodness (pun intended). There's internet too, although it would be awesome to have Unifi I have no complaint using the current continental-drift-slow Streamyx. Really, what more could I ask for? But obviously, Emak has a lot more to ask for. And this opinion of hers resonates with of my sis'. One step into the house, my sis said this house screams BUJANG. Well, in my defense I am. So there's that. Retrospectively, that's probably the first thing that crosses my mind too when I first stepped through the door. And then there's this tal

I hated it when people are so careful around me. I hated it when people are carefree, when they are not around me. I hated it when they calculated their action because of my past reactions. I hated it when I have opinions on everything even when there's no one asking I hated it when I’m too scared of giving opinions because I used to have too many opinions. I hated it when I cannot find the balance, between talking too much and being too silent. I hated it when I’m expected to be loud, when it’s expected I’m most spiteful at my loudest. I hated it. I hate me.

“Pinjam stapler boleh?” tanya aku, gugup. “Apa dia?” balas Siti, matanya masih di monitor komputer. “ Stapler tu...boleh saya pinjam?” “Oh, ambillah, ambil. Setakat stapler tak payahlah mintak-mintak izin.” balas Siti sambil tersenyum, matanya terpicing, nakal. Pantas dia sambung menekan-nekan papan kekunci. “Habis apa je yang kena mintak izin? Klip kertas? Kertas A4? Gunting? Gam?” tanya aku sambil mengepil kertas-kertas A4. Bergurau tapi sebenarnya nak tahu jugak. Siti berhenti menaip. Kali ini dia badannya ikut pusing dengan jeling matanya. “Amboi amboi amboi. Kalau sampai boleh senaraikan barang-barang dalam kedai stationery, takkan tak pandai nak beli sendiri?” Serius wajah Siti buat aku cuak. Kalau tak kerana decit tawanya selepas itu, boleh terkencing aku ditenung begitu. “Orang main-main je la.” Sambung Siti lagi, mungkin sebab jelas terbaca perkataan 'CUAK' di muka aku. “Ambil je. Bukan orang punya pun, company punya.” “Oh, ada bagi eh? Saya tak

Bibir Man bergetar-getar. Penumbuknya digenggam sampai timbul urat. Pembuluh darah matanya jadi merah pekat. Hidungnya kembang kempis menahan marah. Marah sungguh. Tak pernah aku lihat rupanya sebegini bengis. Aku tepuk-tepuk dan genggam bahunya kiri kanan. “Sabar,Man.” Dia toleh dan jeling aku, lantas ditepis tangan aku, melayang. “Kau apa tahu?” Berundur aku setapak dua. Terkejut satu,takut pun ya juga. Man tak pernah sekasar ini dengan aku. “Kau orang senang. Apa yang kau tahu?” serentak itu mata Man berkaca. Herot-berot mukanya menahan tangis. “Apa ni Man? Kita dah lama kawan. Kau tahu aku tak kisah benda-benda macam tu.” “Aku kisah. . Siti kisah. Mak bapak Siti kisah.” “Man...” Mati bicara aku. Man bukan orang yang senang dibawa bincang. Dalam situasi begini lagilah. Nak tak nak aku kena tolong Man. Tapi aku perlukan penjelasan. Aku seluk poket seluar mencapai telefon bimbit. Aku tinggalkan Man yang masih cuba mengawal tangisnya. Aku dail nombor pertama dalam