3 a.m. contemplations

 

About a month ago, I planned on going to Jakarta for Synchronize Festival 2017 with a friend of mine – but due to some unfortunate circumstances, she can’t make the trip.

So knowing that we’re not going to go anymore, and out of purely sadistic tendencies, I decided to properly check out what I’d be missing out on.

Instant regret.

I’m praying for a miracle at this point but part of me is toying with the idea of going alone. Just. Fuck it. And go alone. Like come up with a very, very meticulous plan on the journey to and fro, timing, everything, and be brave enough to make the trip.

I’m well aware that Jakarta is nothing like KL. Risks are risks, but fuck man I’m 23, I need to do something, at least one thing for myself this year.

A colleague once told me that in life, all you need is 20 seconds of insane courage – a line he took from We Bought A Zoo and actually implemented in his life. That’s both admirable but… slightly overzealous. But I guess that’s the point. Maybe all I need is just 20 seconds of insane courage to book that flight ticket and hop on it. You know?

But then again, maybe I’m being stupid? I’m betting on an idealistic scenario here; if I win, I’ll be striking gold but damn, if I lose and things don’t go my way, it’s safe to say I’ll be fucked – and Jakarta isn’t particularly popular when it comes to safety, is it? At least, according to the internet. Forgive me Jakarta people, your city doesn’t scream safe to a novice traveller. 😦

But the desire is still there and I’m going to see whether I can pull this off, at least during the pre-planning stages. Whatever it is, I’m giving myself until the 1st to decide.

Till then.

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Can You Repeat The Question?

Passive.

The “yes but…”s and “maybe”s, the sputter of weak, half-assed agreement that rolls off your tongue, obscuring your genuine thoughts.

The sorries that stumble out from muscle memory, by sheer exasperation, too weak to leave.

Petty words by a petty thing.

But why?

Perhaps it is from fast-paced conversations, your replies washed away by the natters and laughter from quick-witted one-liners you wish you’d have thought up.

Or perhaps it’s merely from the lack of interest – Whatever you say.

Or. Perhaps you don’t know yet. Perhaps the extra five minutes you spend trying to construct the perfect joint makes your mind wander – idly twining words past spoken to people. Fragments of conversations stick, bits and pieces of keywords failing to form coherent sentences.

 

“Yes, no…. maybe. I don’t know.”

 

Lived-In Look

From the Laundry Room

The goal was to write a blog post once a week and I failed.

No lives were taken, no money lost. Just a mental game I played with myself that didn’t work out.

Oh well, there’s always next week to get it right.

My daughter turns twenty-four on Saturday. She’s at that age where she’s honing her life skills and setting copious goals. Real ones, not just blog posts.

She’s trying and succeeding and then failing. She’s often disappointed or pissed. It’s called being in your twenties, I try to tell her.

My comments and advice are often entertained, but I fear the older my children get, there will be less entertaining. I’m guessing by thirty, they will no longer bother hiding the eye-rolls.

So, if I had my oldest’s undivided attention. If her siblings weren’t interrupting or she wasn’t texting or taking a picture, this is what I would…

View original post 370 more words

#WIP

Screen Shot 2017-08-10 at 11.23.36 PM

 

Messy lines, awkward strokes. Here’s a WIP because I am frustrated and my patience is wearing thin.

She drags her cigarette and puffs out the clouds of aesthetics she desperately tries to cling onto, like how it does on her clothes, nails and hair. But she doesn’t mind it so much anymore. She lets herself sink into the acrid smell, revelling in the two-minute caresses of comfort.

Good night strange world.

 

 

 

 

No Glitter

You want the photos but not the smell

of petrichor and saccharine garbage water

permeating the humid city of Kuala Lumpur,

You want KLCC but not the streets of Chow Kit

Dimly lit in nightfall with leathery-skinned uncles on basikal buruks

Pedalling hefty folded cardboard boxes bound by fraying tali rafias.

Not the pitter patter of footsteps crossing from one road to another,

tiny children laughing on their makeshift playground.

 

You want the #nofilter on your face –

strike a pose between undulating hills, exuding the all too common image of ‘wanderlust’

but not the back alleys scattered with cockroaches and

pudgy rats satiated by the abundance of waste to devour

where the mamak stalls set base

but that’s where the good nasi lemak is.

 

You want the glitter that comes with living but not the dust

that trails after.

You want the easy

– but who doesn’t?

 


 

A two-minute, half-baked ramble about things I’ve noticed recently with people – myself included. We all need a good slap of reality – because asking why can’t everything be easy is like screaming into the void and waiting for your echo to bounce back. What good will that do?

So. What part of our privilege are we abusing today?