I took a look at all the drafts. The ones posts that I either dare not publish or I somehow lose the appetite to publish. For I am one hell of an impulsive writer, or doer, for that matter. I rarely write with my head, I ride my emotions to write. Thus, when the mood swings to arctic cold, I would just drop the pen, literally speaking, and poof.
But when I take a look back, the draft posts, the ones that I write not trying to be pretty or decent, are the source of a great great inspiration. Some of the stuffs I wrote when I was pissed or madly in love are just.. Yes somebody pass me the Bakul already. I'll get in and pick it up myself. And go and try to figure this Malay idiom in play. Or else, feel free to - Oh well..
I am a free spirit trapped in the rigidity of trying to be pretty. Perhaps, the need to feel accepted. Was I attention-deficient growing up ? Mak said I was.
This is some very random shit. From some very random thoughts.
For The Hardest Thing Is Not To Learn, But To Unlearn.
Met the guys from the old office lunch tadi. Smiles.
Met Kak Ida. I think I was myself again for I dunno how long. A part of me I left at the AMC when we were forced to move. I didn't realize it, I was like THIS (picture me doing the backward 'C') talkative. Am I that lonely in HQ ? I've read somewhere that one tends to be talkative when one's lonely. Or in a lonely place. Or is feeling lonely. Or something to do with solitude.
I wish the Me of today could tell the Me of yesterday that everything is gonna be OK. That everything is gonna be alright. That everything will be fine.
Then I wish the Future Me would whisper that "This too shall pass.." or "You'll get through this.." - A smile on my face as I type this. Yes, this too shall pass. I've already known the secret. Problem with me, is that I know everything. Yet I know nothing.
"I could not become anything, neither bad nor good, neither a scoundrel nor an honest man, neither a hero nor an insect, and now I'm eking my days in my corner, taunting myself with the bitter and entirely useless consolation that an intelligent man cannot seriously become anything; that only a fool can become something." - Fyodor Dostoevsky
Out of place. Perhaps. But that was what transpired in my mind as I type the paragraph preceding the quote by Mr. Dostoevsky.
I was happy to see them. Loved the shirt that I managed to 'pow' Kak Ida from. But the pix has failed to reach the masses due to an unseen circumstance thanks to Anna Mawiati. Damnit.
"Ayah hang dulu time muda-muda, pakaikan helmet Mak siap tenung lama-lama lagi. Laa (sekarang) ni, kalau Mak gelak-gelak, dia siap pukui helmet ataih (atas) kepala Mak. Punggg!"
Mak, as she grumbles her way on top of my FZ complaining that Ayah has yet to lower down the passenger's foot rest for her to step on. The combination of the 'stiff' foot rest and the vertically challenged midg- I mean Mak are just too darn adorable.
I love You. And NOTHING will take that away from me.
Awesome. Yes I know. That's what happen when pure awesomeness meets his dynamic duo. By the way this post is intended to serve as a reminder that FZ shall require his oil change when the mileage clocks 10,000. How time flies. And how KLIA is quite hell of a distant to go to work to from Puchong.
p/s: For those of you who hasn't noticed the obvious yet. F.ruZi ™ is the combination of Fakhrolruzi and FZ (yes, you're slow, I forgive you :P)