I have no fucking sympathy for old suits reeking of money
Who would like to speak of injustice while defining tyranny

You stood by and watch idly at the state of this country's infamy
And still you have the gall to ask for shoulders of empathy ?

Fuck you! For everything that you've received - you once gave
Water your cemetery flowers ? No you decrepit fuck, I spit on your grave!

Not sorry nor am I jubilant - merely a spectator with a bowl full of popcorn
Turn the volume up, lower your voice down because the show's full on.

Sakai

Pendapat saya tentang situasi TPM kita ?

Simple.

What you vote you get back. Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha

A Decade. An Era.

Current Listen: Nora - Di Persimpangan Dilemma (Oh, how befitting)

I'm writing this post in actuality at approximately 9.00 PM, 3rd of August 2014. Because I have such bad memories. To make sure that I should commemorate a decade of blogging, I'll have to schedule it.

From a greenhorn that I was. Can't believe that I can actually witness my growth throughout my never ending ramblings. 

From a kid who stumbled his way upon English through a keen interest in hip hop, I went through a phase of writing endless sheets of nursery rhymes. Where "skills" would surely end up with somebody getting "killed" towards the end of the line.

That. The above made me smile. Because as I wrote that, a wave of memories surge through my mind. I remember my Rhyme Book, inspired of course by none other than the revered Too Phat themselves. Then I remember a phase of my college life. One that I try so hard to put away. A bleep of a phase. One that seems more like a bad dream rather than real life experiences.

Why can't I remember much from the Montevest phase ? Perhaps its convenient. Perhaps its painful.

Then, to a phase where I found out that hip hop doesn't really like me. I had a dream where I would rock the mic on stage and people would love me for my words producing skills and flows. But that dream stuttered along with the fact I was and still am socially awkward.

Hence begin the poet phase where I would write countless pieces just so that I can incorporate wordplays in my lines. Despite my social awkwardness, I love women. I wish I could say that the feelings are mutual. But all that I can say is that only a good-hearted (lucky ? :P) handful should reciprocate. Thus, there were the pieces where I would dedicate a piece of my heart to them. 

I dunno what the future holds. What with the fact that I have, give or take, 360 more days to find out. Heck, I don't even know if I'm still gonna be around when the time finally comes to uncloak this particular entry. But I hope that when and if I do, I would be in a more comfortable place than I am right now. I miss her so much. 

Anonymous battles with faceless soldiers are raging inside my head for I cannot anchor my fleet of emotion in these torrents of uncertainties. I dunno what I am feeling.

But stories of my life.

Fakhrol, 9.00 PM, 3rd of August 2014

p/s: Hi, 31 year old Me!

Forever Within Numbered Days

I have so many movies I cannot tell you how many. I have so many of them I probably have some that I downloaded before I was born and haven't watched yet. I'm not exactly sure if I love movies or simply just the idea of it. Maybe downloading movies is my hobby after all.

None the matter.

So this morning after sahur, after last night's out - I innocently popped a movie to my plasma. It always help me sleep. Concentration. Be it books or this time around, movies.

Title of choosing could be anything really. After all I'm only trying to catch some sleep. After brushing aside all the cobwebs in drive H, I innocently double clicked The Fault In Our Stars a movie I downloaded about a year ago I think. 

Whoever the fuck penned this movie needs to be shot.

NEVER have I bawled so much waters from my droopy eyes. I cried so much you might think I had stepped on a Lego. 

Damnit Fakhrol you're such a girl!