perfectlyimperfect

Aku rasa...kosong Kosong yang terlalu kosong. Sampaikan dinding yang menyempadan kekosongan Ikut sama terdorong ke lohong Tersedut ke vakum ketiadaan Menjadi koktel ruang dan waktu Yang tidak boleh lagi diukur dengan meter dan minit Lalu masa dahulu,sekarang dan mendatang menjadi satu    Maka dalam ketika yang sama dan berbeza Aku bebas dan tersepit Aku serentak mendiam dan menjerit Aku ada dan tiada. Lagi kosong dari kosong.

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...

I need to feel like a man Not for you to be my mom I’m perfectly capable of living alone But a better life with you along But now I feel less like a man And you a lot like my mom Yes true that I do love my mother But loving you like that is weird altogether Maybe I come back when I’m more of a man Maybe I come back when you’re less a mother When you no more dictate today’s underpants When you don’t ask did I take too short a shower Baby, the rule is simple I’m more of a man if you don’t mother me You’re more my woman if you smother me. With love I mean not endless nagging With matrimonial love not maternal ranting. Baby, I can be your baby Please, just not too literally.

Take my hand right, And hold on to it tight, We will walk through the night, Till we spot the first light. Walk a little longer, Because one step is another step closer, Just a few more my dear, Persevere, chase away the fear. It’s so dark I know,come near To my voice you follow,you hear They’re slipping away from mine, your fingers At my side you stay, I’m here, Darling, where are you? Hold still, I get you, This will take me a moment, Wait there please a second. My love, can you answer me Where are you, I cannot see, There you are, you make me worry, I left you cold and weary, Oh darling I’m sorry. Oh there darling , Can you  see the light, can you see it? It’s so near now I can reach it, Be patient my darling, Soon our hands will stop shaking, Soon our bodies will stop shivering, And our hearts...stop beating.