You

You, and I shall say this only once, blew my mind. I can’t stop thinking about you, even though I hardly knew you. But insofar, I’d love to know you better. What you like, what you dislike, what are your dreams, your fears, these and those and many more. But I’d like to take it slow, please.

You, and I shall say this only once, made me feel childish again. I can’t comprehend what is it that makes me laugh, but you made me laugh. Or smile, whichever fancies you. And despite the times we spent together, and that’s practically never, it’s the times that we are apart that defined you. And I don’t wish to sound wimpish, but I’d love to spend more time with you. But I’d like to take it slow, please.

You, and I shall say this only once, defy logic. You don’t fall into categories, or classes, or denominations. You don’t add up. You are not as beautiful as equations. You are clueless, I’m clueless. But I’d love to untangle you, to balance the equation, to solve, if you’d allow me to, the perfect mystery. But I’d like to take it slow, please.

You, and I’ll admit just this once, made me realized that if I had known you first, I would have fallen in love with you there and then. But as far as you’d be concerned with, that didn’t happen and would probably never will. Because I’d like to take it slow, please, to nurture this heart so that it will be strong again. And I don’t know how long that would take.

And I’m sure you’d be fine with that, ’cause I wouldn’t be so irresponsibly foolish as to take you as a mere replacement. Thank you for the time and your precious support when I thought the world has ended.

‘Cause if I had told you all of these stupid things, you’d have LOL-ed me. And that would make me laugh, and probably more.

End

All good things come to an end. Many better things come to an end too fast. Few best things come to an end as fast as this. And I’m sucker for these few best things. I’m a hopeless romantic, nostalgically driven man, with little regards for logic when it comes to things like these.

I like to start my post in middle of something. Parachuting you, the esteemed readers, into the whole mess without proper warning, nor explanation. I like to confuse, write long sentences with little space for breathing, feeding you information, one after another, random yet calibrated, like this one. And hope, I say hope, you find your way to the issue I’m babbling about.

I have currently an average of 3 unique readers per day, all of whom despite my endless nonsensical posts about the most random things I can talk about, keep coming back, even as I lay quiet for the longest of time. I have no idea what you’re looking for, but I know I am looking for an escape.  Just so you know, I used to have an average of 5 unique readers per day. What happen to the other two? God knows.

I am never forthcoming in my posts. But if you peel layer after layer after layer of persona, you’d probably find an insecure, and wildly subjective deep thinker. But I don’t think I deserve the right to say I’m philosophical. I’m, however, fairly good at making something out of nothing.

And if you read, and somehow felt you felt what I felt, that was probably unintentional. Because as much as I need to share this burden of feeling, I am not much a fan of telling the world what is really behind the heavily guarded faceless heart. But I relish the fact that you understood.

Nobody hardly comments. Although I would love to see some, but deep inside I know it will probably be too troublesome. But. Just but.

And this little Simple Things, had followed me since my first, and my last. Had always been a place nice, to talk about things I rarely talk about. Had seen my ups and downs, and had quietly acknowledgd my victories and failures. It is nostalgic, this place. And I hold dear to it.

So it came as a surprise when people announce they are gonna stop and move on. Like this little place had served its purpose, and is of no use now. Like the times when good things and bad things were shared had no bearings to whatever or whomever. Like it’s so easy to start, and so easy to end.

Like how you picked it up, and then just dropped it as we go along. And that is one single thing I cannot bring myself to forgive you. At least not yet.

This is a start of an ending. And I promise, as far as promises go, it’ll be fun.

World

Sometimes I feel sensitive about things. And although I rarely show it, I feel human when I stop to look at things. There is no particular incident or event which makes me feel this way. But I do every time I read the newspaper, or watch the news, or listen to people talk about them. And sometimes, I quietly shed sympathetic tears. Quietly.

There was once this thing about One Voice Movement, which I felt was really moving. Because young men and women living in chaos chose to make things better for themselves. But all I could muster, is an approval, and a subscription with signature supporting their movement.

There was once this thing about 10th November memorandum in KL, which I felt was really daring. Because for the first time, my countrymen are taking the issues to the government, to the monarch, demanding change and transparency. And I felt proud. But then I saw the news about corruption, and some stupid ministers making stupid comments on international news channels. Makes me wonder how long will it take, for things to be better.

Then there was once this thing about natural disasters, or that thing about mass killings, or this about planes blasting into buildings, or countries going to war, or monks being killed, and this and that, and I felt drowned by all these things. So far away, yet felt so near.

Like today.

And I always wonder, what if the news which seemed so far away happen right at my doorstep tomorrow. What would I do? How would I react? But the thoughts were always brushed away, for there’s always some deadline submissions lurking around.

I’m too much a coward to claim I would be strong, or I can change the world, or I can make things better. I am only human. And I sincerely feel I’m helpless. But let me leave you with this:

And you asked me what I want this year
and I try to make this kind and clear
just a chance that maybe we’ll find better days
’cause I don’t need boxes wrapped in strings
and designer love and empty things
just a chance that maybe we’ll find better days

Heavy isn’t it? It helps when Christmas is around the corner, though I know it’s probably still early. I always dread it, but that’s another story for another day.