someone else's arms.

He's a brokenhearted.
She's a goner.
He's all depending on the moon.
She's all counting stars.
He's singing a sorrow song.
She's mourning in void.
He's saying hearty words.
She's speaking lies.
He wears his heart on his sleeves.
She wears her smile in believes,
That he belongs in someone else's arms.
And she belongs in someone else's arms.

Rambling.

Think of a resolution.

Think.

Think about it. Think, if you have ever achieved one. Think, if those resolutions are just from those 5 years you went through. Or just keep on getting the list longer and nothing ever crossed since you don't remember when.

And I. I have never plan of anything on the very first day of new years, since SPM. I am that kind of person that fail to plan. I have plans too. I plan based on what and when I feel I want to. Dates don't bother me, not a chance. I'm free to do anything. We are free to do anything. Why we have to follow others? One of my friends once said,  only the dead fish go down follow the stream. 

Excuse me that will not absolutely turning you into one of those hipsters.

I'm just another broken pieces. I'm getting old. I'm happy, sometimes I am just tearing apart I don't know why.

Lorde's voices expanding through the room, rhythmic words that lack of my attentions.

I want to go out and walk around the city with my ear plugged in and free from thoughts of being afraid because our country is not a safe place anymore yet today is public holiday. People are everywhere. And I don't really like that. It's kinda a bad idea.

I scrolled through facebook. Yesterday was someone's birthday. I don't wanna celebrate my birthday. If someone ever think of it, please don't make it so obvious that I refuse to leave my room. Please make me happiest not just in pictures when the time comes.

I want my morning back. I want morning that doesn't end. I want to sleep through the day and wake up only when its morning.

I'm writing this according to voices in my head, which I really want to escape from. Thanks a lot, head.

Blergh

Sometimes, wanting some very simple thing, can be counted as demanding. Like, wanting to be people's favourite.

Yes it is very demanding because you don't even favourite a person yet you're expecting people to like you? You're not a star. You are just a mole on a black sheep. You are like a tiny tiny little living micro-organism in a milky way.

That's just how I feel. Doesn't even worth a concern. Bye.

Pointless.

Bila buku nak sampai? Bila kerja nak siap? Bila exam nak start? Bila exam nak habis? Bila nak start belajar? Bila nak start membaca? Bila nak start menulis?

Bila?

Persoalan yang ntah bila akan selesai. Masa bergerak pantas. Aku semakin rajin menabur benih, memasang seribu satu cita cita. Persoalannya, bila nak semai?

helpless

my life,
has been quitely interrupted with people. people who were in and out. like an elevator. with different floors, different time and places. those people who came and left, had left their traces inside me. I wonder, if I ever had been on their head.

people like, my friends' moms, my friends' family members, my friends, who were once friends, strangers who I talked to although I don't know their names, people that had haunted me in dreams, of few faces I've seen in my dreams, or heard voices but their faces were blurry, people that I never talked to but they know me, or at least have seen me, people who I crossed to on the street.

I wonder if they ever remember me.

I want. I desperately want you to remember me. I am a pathetic. Beyond pathetic. I crave to be remembered. Hopelessly and helplessly pitiful. I am, rather a shameful being.

Game over.

I just wanna lay here and think about how much I have screwed up.

This is really, really bad. Never I expected it'd came out like this.

Let's.

Have you ever think that, at this point of your life, you should accept whatever comes in between, be it you've changed, or everything is going constantly unchanged or rather a lil ups and downs?

and so you're lonely
and so you're changing
and so everyone's leaving
or so
you're escaping.

Either way, things won't change abruptly to the point where you, are at your constant life cycle. You know that. It will change, but rather slowly. Everything seems like it doesn't move a bit but it actually is. At least, time is. You won't be forever you at your age.

It's weird.

The more I think, the more it leads me to pointless. I hate to choose to go with the flow because I don't want it to be like I am actually off track, or slipped or whatever. Let's just have faith that these upcoming weeks will go smoothly.

I ask you again, can I keep just this one?

It was when I never went below than B on my writing when I was in form 5 that I started to love writing, be it in bahasa or english. It must've been weird because it was just writing but everyone has different point of view and talent.

It's not like I write everyday or every hour. I'll write when I feel like writing, which is plenty. Sometimes I can track it, sometimes I lose count. And I believe that no one understands what it likes to be able to express thoughts in words and to have that exact meanings like what it feels like to have that (this is more like mere rhetoric and blunt.) But what I am trying to say's hard to understand. It's not just sharing thought, it's more than that. It's more than just write, more than expression.

It's a passion.

Jadi, hanya sekali ini aku rayu, supaya tidak disekat kemahuan aku. Dan kalau kegembiraan yang kau mahu tahu, disinilah ia bertugu. Jangan cari aku, kerna kau hanya akan menjumpai bayangku. Cari tulisanku, dan kau akan ketemu aku, disitu.

I…

1. I wonder how many hearts have I break throughout 21 years I have lived.

2. You know that one day, you feel your heart's beating. It beats fast, for someone. Or more than just one. Or when you are happy, sad, angry. And then it came to yr mind, have it ever beats for that One you believe Its existence? Have you ever?

3. I am really confused. I need someone to talk to. I don't know what to do I wanted to cry but then it won't solve any of these confusions.

4. Too much sleep is not helping.

Keseorangan (akhirnya)

Biarkan
Biarkan ia terus terusan membukit
Biarkan ia terus terusan membanjiri
Ia bahkan meledak
Dengan kata kata yang
Tak terungkap
Yang ketagihan luahan
Yang butuh telinga
Yang gersang hati

Biarkan
Biarkan kotak draf itu
Keseorangan.