tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-147713872024-03-13T12:18:17.029+08:00Pieces of My Thoughtsthose who live by the pen die under the pain of clichesRaizzènhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01930709494290824912noreply@blogger.comBlogger648125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14771387.post-36094506194793385532023-07-12T04:24:00.004+08:002023-07-12T04:27:27.008+08:00I Miss My Friend<p style="text-align: justify;">My friend's old man passed away last year and he shifted his entire life back to his hometown to take care of his solitary mom. I can respect that. I didn't expect however that I'd feel so sad. I just realized we kinda did loads of stuff together and now there'll be no more week end scary movies, early morning Roti Tsunami or just laughing banters. The Desa Petaling chapters of our life are now gone forever and I'm lonelier than ever.</p>Raizzènhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01930709494290824912noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14771387.post-80068693765425460502022-11-30T01:43:00.001+08:002022-11-30T01:44:03.606+08:00Gosh<p style="text-align: justify;">I read what I wrote. Gosh was I a pretentious twat. Hello 2022. Nobody's probably going to read this and it's the best fucking thing ever. Now I can have my Dear Diaries moment minus the writer's block. Because I am a validation seeking, chest beating pseudo ajet macho poseur. Kbai.</p>Raizzènhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01930709494290824912noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14771387.post-40737880662522368052020-06-12T03:02:00.001+08:002020-06-12T03:02:50.449+08:002:58 AM Thoughts<div style="text-align: justify;">
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So I stumbled upon this quote on Tinder: <i>Do better. Be better</i>.</div>
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Here I am. Sleepy but resisting against a snoozefest. So here I am, wondering to myself, if the quote was actually designed to tell someone to basically go fuck himself, but nicely.</div>
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I mean the author literally told us to do Better. Okay now, off to go find myself an improvement.</div>
Raizzènhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01930709494290824912noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14771387.post-72310590217083092352020-05-30T01:33:00.001+08:002020-05-30T02:01:01.835+08:00Tidak Bertajuk<div style="text-align: justify;">
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Wow.</div>
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I just realized that it's been more than two years since my last entry.</div>
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I've been meaning to come back but the saturation of self-validating channels through social medias means blogging are one of those things future grandparents will tell their future grand-kids they used to do when they were young somewhere in the near future. Probably in a highly glorified fashion. And the grand-kids would probably think it's a less intricate form of Tik-Toking. </div>
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Anyways.</div>
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I actually intended to write about P. Ramlee. One of my heroes. My heart shreds in a thousand stinging shards whenever I stumble upon his pictures. His struggles and the injustice as well as the despicable way he was treated by the very people he was fighting for. </div>
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But as a man who primarily rely on emotions (and a sense of panic) to get things moving, I would be lying to myself if I go ahead and write it because I just don't feel it. Not like just now.</div>
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Articulating the loudness of my inner monologues has a tendency to put things into perspective therefore logical conclusions is no longer a journey I aspire to make but a destination I've already arrive to.</div>
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Writers (or just me ? lol) don't write using our heads. We write using our hearts.<br />
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<i>Edit: It's been 47 years since THE One & Only left us. Let us recite our Fatihah for the Arwah whenever we come across his stories or his work :(</i></div>
Raizzènhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01930709494290824912noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14771387.post-46761251963590062162018-03-24T16:10:00.005+08:002018-03-24T16:10:54.493+08:00Fat Journal 24 March 2018 - Milestone<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b>Current weight: 66.9 kg</b></div>
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I finally hit the number 66 after a few months being more than 68 and over. Last I remember weighing 66 was I was back from Tasmania. Although that was an even number. I now weigh (as of this morning) 0.9 kg more.</div>
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It has been getting harder this thing with yesterday being the hardest by far. Mak cooked her never-disappoint chicken rendang and bubur jagung. I almost lost it I swear. I was like damnit why Mak ? Why ? And after me getting her to promise to never cook my favorite meals during this period and she did this! *insert crying emoji*</div>
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So yeah its getting fucking harder.</div>
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Shit, I remember being all excited before I start off last week. Now I know why I dread this shit so much in the first place. Coz it fucking sucks. The sugar craving. The cooking.</div>
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Damn. The cooking.</div>
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I'm enjoying the fact that with this diet regime I'm kinda forced to cook my own food and that somewhat gives me an insight to myself coz I never thought I had it. Well I don't had had it. Meals cooked by me are far from what you'd call nice even in moms' lazy days. But hey its edible and best of all is I know all the ingredients and I possess controls over its freshness.</div>
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Having to woke up somewhat early to prepare for the food is a fucking bother.</div>
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What else.</div>
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I know now I'm such a noob to actually be looking forward to this thing before I started last Monday. I was preoccupied with the destination and I fucking forgot that the journey is the hardest.</div>
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But I prevailed yesterday (and God was it hard, you dunno what its like to actually decline Mak's rendangs). So this looks, God willing, to be something I could persevere with. Something that I can at least see through the end (at least until I hit my ideal weight) or more. Something that I can actually finish for a while.</div>
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I'm a fucking starter but rarely do I finish.</div>
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Raizzènhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01930709494290824912noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14771387.post-16605467921934546632018-03-21T21:00:00.001+08:002018-03-24T16:11:13.290+08:00Fat Journal 21 March 2018<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b>Current weight: 68.5 kg</b><br />
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Started at 70.2 kilos on Monday (weekend weight lol) even though I mentioned 69 something during the first log.</div>
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Monday was all cream cheese day. Breakfast, lunch and dinner. Plus one 2 cup of decaf Nescafe (morning and night). </div>
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I found out that Splenda is fucking superb. Not too much of an aftertaste like Stevia and definitely a lot sweeter.</div>
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Since first day was all cream cheese, naturally I had a craving yesterday and I swear I'll get that bread even if its the last thing I do. So as soon as I get home I roasted the flaxseed and couldn't find any patience in the process and thus I use a somewhat strong to moderate fires and my flaxseed smelt burnt. lol. But my sister tasted and she said its fine.</div>
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Then I get to grinding until it somewhat becomes something of a flour.</div>
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So the next thing is dough up the thing.</div>
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First try (yeah there's a second)</div>
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3 eggs</div>
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3 packs of splenda</div>
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15-17 gm of butter</div>
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A teaspoon of sodium bicarbonate</div>
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Half a spoon of vanilla essence</div>
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2-3 spoon of Psyllium husk</div>
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I was too lazy to bring down the oven and the airfyer was much too small for the mold I decided to use. So instead I put it in the microwave and since the microwave doesn't have any degree of control toward the temperature I decided to just go with it albeit using the same timing (22 minutes) suggested for oven cook.</div>
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Almost burned my mom's microwave. The whole house was covered in smokes. My God.</div>
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So I toss the pan and fry an egg sunny side up and wrap a cheese a la burito lah sangat pada hal frustrated that my first attempt at bread could seriously injure someone if thrown in high velocity. I could have hammered a nail with it.</div>
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So this around, the hunger pang somewhat subsided by my Burito Bodoh. I tried it, looking more properly this time.</div>
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Rupanya mamat yang tulis recipe tu ada bagi measurement but he left it at the end of his recipe. What a prick.</div>
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So this time around I tried it with a proper measurement</div>
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10 teaspoon of ground flaxseed (he suggested 16 but flat so I dunno)</div>
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4 eggs</div>
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15 gm of butter</div>
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A pinch of salt (tadi tak masuk punya lapaq tak perasan)</div>
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A teaspoon of vanilla essence</div>
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4 teaspoon of Psyllium husk</div>
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1 teaspoon of sodium bicarbonate</div>
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5 packs of splenda (he suggested 10 stevia but since splenda is splendid enough so yeah)</div>
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I put the dough in the magic pan and the result is quite satisfactory although it ended being somewhat sweet due to significant scent of the vanilla essence.</div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ncYDTKhbTRk/WrJW9pY1u1I/AAAAAAAAMb0/UfFoKQh9cK0JS7y7fqpI8jJPVhpOm-QxgCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_3452.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ncYDTKhbTRk/WrJW9pY1u1I/AAAAAAAAMb0/UfFoKQh9cK0JS7y7fqpI8jJPVhpOm-QxgCLcBGAs/s320/IMG_3452.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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Next batch I will try to reduce the vanilla essence and play around with a little bit more salt and maybe bake the thing longer. ALSO, make it thinner its so fucking thick it barely fits the toaster.</div>
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Next: Salmon chapter. Too fucking lazy to type.</div>
Raizzènhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01930709494290824912noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14771387.post-44057448397652294632018-03-17T17:01:00.001+08:002018-03-17T17:01:29.163+08:00Fat Journal<div style="text-align: justify;">
Monday March 19, 2018 I will be starting my weight loss journey again. I currently weigh as of this morning 69.5 KG - an increase of 5.5 kilos from Raya. lol. Though unavoidable hospital admissions and ever increasing injuries have played a part - I have been pigging out like a - you guessed it, a Fakhrol.</div>
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So now I'm starting this again. </div>
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Half Keto half Atkins.</div>
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If I manage to bring my weight down to 64 (ideally 63) I will get myself a Polaroid camera for my travels!</div>
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OK. Journal's first entry clocked.</div>
Raizzènhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01930709494290824912noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14771387.post-61446161257556771592017-12-28T01:08:00.002+08:002017-12-28T01:08:56.464+08:00Haih<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mywpRV5GjHg/WkPTQcVrGEI/AAAAAAAAMNA/pwgrRG8eI8wKo_Q1axy7VsIxom_fYWNMwCLcBGAs/s1600/Untitled-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="115" data-original-width="800" height="46" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mywpRV5GjHg/WkPTQcVrGEI/AAAAAAAAMNA/pwgrRG8eI8wKo_Q1axy7VsIxom_fYWNMwCLcBGAs/s320/Untitled-1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="text-align: start;">Because I'm stupid and I still miss you. Fuck. What a prelude to 2018.</span></div>
Raizzènhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01930709494290824912noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14771387.post-15331712328341641282017-11-05T18:02:00.002+08:002017-11-05T18:03:35.754+08:00Dead Ends<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Nu7iSUJwSuE/Wf7gfzppPXI/AAAAAAAAMMw/rtKBWdLh1tkZOKkLLtOdjjwLRz9ZlXC6wCLcBGAs/s1600/dead-ends-3d-cover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="782" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Nu7iSUJwSuE/Wf7gfzppPXI/AAAAAAAAMMw/rtKBWdLh1tkZOKkLLtOdjjwLRz9ZlXC6wCLcBGAs/s320/dead-ends-3d-cover.jpg" width="244" /></a></div>
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2017's second book and we're right at her rear end and I'm still only on my second book. Boy have I been lazy.</div>
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Its a story about two boys, one's a smart but a hard-ass delinquent and the other, mentally challenged. As odd as pairing goes, these two boys manage to find more similarities than they would like to admit (well at least on the protagonist's side). </div>
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To summarized: Boys with daddy issues.</div>
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God, I'm a fucking lazy bum.</div>
Raizzènhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01930709494290824912noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14771387.post-1413451678949463282017-09-28T22:24:00.002+08:002017-09-28T22:24:50.507+08:00The Very Best<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yTMyQyXUh8c/Wc0FKAGtrjI/AAAAAAAAMME/8Ew37e26r_c_qg8atRhoLQKCdh4BP070gCLcBGAs/s1600/IMAGE_00050.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="240" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yTMyQyXUh8c/Wc0FKAGtrjI/AAAAAAAAMME/8Ew37e26r_c_qg8atRhoLQKCdh4BP070gCLcBGAs/s320/IMAGE_00050.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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August 25, 2007 at Sue's engagement more than 10 years ago. Look at how innocent we were. Now you yourself are getting married. </div>
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Take care Haq.</div>
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I wish you nothing but the best. The very best.</div>
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You lovely thing.</div>
<br />Raizzènhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01930709494290824912noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14771387.post-34122054698835335042017-07-01T12:16:00.004+08:002017-07-02T16:06:23.516+08:00Tangerine <div style="text-align: justify;">
You remind me of Tangerine from that movie with Jim Carrey in it. Damaged yet beautiful =)</div>
Raizzènhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01930709494290824912noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14771387.post-74117942538453774682017-06-28T19:05:00.000+08:002017-06-29T10:23:00.795+08:00Missing<div style="text-align: justify;">
Breaking away from someone isn't as straight forward as we want it to be. Deciding to walk away from the people that used to be so central in your life does not mean you do not miss them. At times unbearably so. So much so I found myself on more than an occasion, staring at your number or our chat window, struggling to stop myself from calling or texting you. </div>
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You who came along and made everything seems like a breeze and walk away as freely. You who I didn't think in a million years would leave these much damage. You who I so sorely feel absence of. </div>
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I miss you so much right now and the saddest part is you'll probably never know...</div>
Raizzènhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01930709494290824912noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14771387.post-19124114792156573702017-06-17T18:44:00.002+08:002017-06-17T18:50:49.713+08:00Books 2017 - The Alpha Male<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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My first completed book in 2017 and my, was it an annoying read.</div>
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First off let me start by saying how disappointed I got when I discovered that the book is actually just a collection of short stories instead of one. Fine. I'll concede, not through anyone's fault but mine. But hey what the fuck right ? Short stories could be fun.</div>
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No. Wrong. Dead wrong,</div>
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I was kinda hooked with the first story since I didn't know it yet at that time that this was gonna be a short story, so it didn't matter that the character was a self absorbed has-been actor who thinks far too greatly of himself. He has an entire 100 pages or so to redeem himself or so I thought. After all I am a sucker for a good 'Pheonix rising' story.</div>
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But no. The character stayed his asshole self and I wasn't even compensated with a good ending. It ended abruptly like I hope does the author's career.</div>
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On to the next stories. As if it hasn't been already unbearable, the author decided to put a little bit of fantasy / dark comedy spin to his already annoying assemblage of lukewarm self important jackasses. Don't get wrong I already don't dig dark comedy but adding that kind of insult to injury is just plain nasty.</div>
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I have never been so mad at a character or a book but I hated the book and by extension the author and the only reason I have persevered is because I wanna finish what I started and I already have like 3-4 books I have started and dropped for a while, as is customary with me. So there you go. Nak type bagi habis nie pun malas. </div>
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So screw the author I hope he never touches another pen again in his life.</div>
Raizzènhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01930709494290824912noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14771387.post-86332894592682811972017-06-06T23:40:00.000+08:002017-06-06T23:40:15.662+08:00This Is How I Miss You<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<i>There is a place deep in the valleys</i></div>
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<i>Hid by the mountains, white sheets of memories </i></div>
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<i>A place guarded by heart, hidden from sight hardened by the stones of melancholy. </i><i>Should one wander far enough, stood once was a statue of You & Me.</i></div>
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You were a beautiful beautiful part of my life.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Thank you for being in it. No matter how brief it was.</div>
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<br /></div>
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You fantastic thing.</div>
Raizzènhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01930709494290824912noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14771387.post-84060937543887622782017-06-01T09:03:00.000+08:002017-06-01T09:03:21.287+08:00"Nothing Lasts Forever"<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i>"You know what we should be ? Nothing. Because Nothing lasts forever!"</i></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I care for the girl and all I manage to sound was like an asshole in what could probably our last encounter.</div>
Raizzènhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01930709494290824912noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14771387.post-30205227808034656322017-05-31T00:31:00.000+08:002017-06-01T08:55:01.868+08:00"If You Were A Vegetable, You'd Be Cute-cumber!"<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I said to you.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
You with your trademarked pokerface. I love you for that. You know too much, only that shrug of your shoulders, your attempt at playing the fool, it didn't fool me. You're too smart not to know what you're doing.</div>
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<br /></div>
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I don't know why these little things, these tiny memories are creeping and drowning my thoughts right now. There's a gathering of lukewarm pearly beads crowding my vision.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i>Fuck.</i></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I love you.</div>
Raizzènhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01930709494290824912noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14771387.post-39043136846576339452017-03-29T17:31:00.000+08:002017-03-29T17:34:13.920+08:00Cerita Kotey<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
I was pissed about some things just now and get to thinking:</div>
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<br /></div>
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<i>"Apesal kotey takde mulut ? So, you don't have to listen to cerita kotey"</i></div>
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<br /></div>
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Oh, I miss my bouts of randomness.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Many happy returns,</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Fakhrol<br />
<br />
Edit: You don't have to promise me the world. Just deliver on your promises. When you don't, and after speaking so poyo-ly, it really pisses me off. Lately incompetent nincompoops have been really pissing me off.</div>
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Raizzènhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01930709494290824912noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14771387.post-65774682884841320472017-03-18T12:22:00.001+08:002017-03-18T12:22:21.103+08:00P.Ramlee & Rosyatimah Jasni, Ladies & Gentlemen <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dxYSBH8DNsf8nY72LWItVO2gQoksrFVPtpesombNcAAOFkkg980FY4U5Ty6A72JHMhAMCsFyYTNYp0' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<br />
Thank God for this. Simply beautiful.Raizzènhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01930709494290824912noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14771387.post-73422365065627967142017-01-27T10:57:00.002+08:002017-01-27T21:18:53.236+08:00We Love You<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2yKRiQgtiiI/WIq5RVoEJjI/AAAAAAAAJYw/hYyVQxIZ5Uo7c7GUH5Nl47bbucSFUvXeQCEw/s1600/IMG_3796.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2yKRiQgtiiI/WIq5RVoEJjI/AAAAAAAAJYw/hYyVQxIZ5Uo7c7GUH5Nl47bbucSFUvXeQCEw/s400/IMG_3796.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<i>Time. Death. Familial bond. </i></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Intricate concepts.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
We weren't exactly close these past few years. She used to take me in to keep her youngest daughter company while we both were growing up. I was pretty close with Kak Na growing up. We used to be childhood play mates. I remember the little <i>snitch </i>planting fire crackers in a pile of cow dung only for it to prematurely explode and gotten my ass scolded and she escaped. Small chuckles on my lips when I remember that.</div>
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<br /></div>
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That's it.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Family expanding with marriages meant we kept to ourselves mostly. Not for the loss of love whatsoever. Its just that way. If I'm honest there have been deaths of family members who I don't really feel the need to be there aside from the familial obligation I'm reminded to observe. I thought Mak Uda's passing is gonna be one of those.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
But the sadness is profound. I have a niggling, stinging pain in my chest whenever my mind decided to take a little stroll down memory lane. In fact I'm a little bit teary as I'm typing this. Or whenever I encountered a picture of her, which is very rare, although not estranged, it kinda reminds me how kind of far we've grown apart as a family. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I have no beautiful tributes to write in your memory. I just wanna say that your passing pains me in a way I don't know how to explain and I pray that you're in a better place right now. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And if I'm granted a wish right now, its to see you for one last time and hug you and kiss you and say how much <i>we </i>love you.</div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
Raizzènhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01930709494290824912noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14771387.post-49656248816887468662017-01-01T11:23:00.002+08:002017-01-01T11:28:39.063+08:002016 Wrap - Books<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
My short attention span and my obsession with new things means that I get tired of them fairly quickly (books, songs, food, people :P etc). I may have started a couple or more books which I never did finish thus could never be counted as 2016's reads.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
So in come the eve of 2017 and the end of 2016. I was only at my third book and a half. Which is, well since I'm such an uptight, feels a little bit not OK. I remember talking from my five storey horse, declaring that I wanna finish at least four or five books per year, so no matter how sucky or without progress my life had been the previous year, I will have the sense that something was achieved. Some progresses, no matter how minor had been made. So three and a half feels a little bit like a failure and I need no such reminder that my life has been a relatively stark one at that. Well, no not really a failure per se, but for theatrical purposes lets just roll with it k ? Sheesh.</div>
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8W9mAb8i3xk/WGhtcGRGxXI/AAAAAAAAJVc/sDG4IbDunigBFIl9apYGyG0jimH4eXQDwCEw/s1600/77103.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8W9mAb8i3xk/WGhtcGRGxXI/AAAAAAAAJVc/sDG4IbDunigBFIl9apYGyG0jimH4eXQDwCEw/s320/77103.jpg" width="206" /></a></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
So a few months back I had started this book The Glass Palace. Seemingly innocent and captivating enough to get me started and actually hooked. But as is common with me, since berak is for me a really enjoyable experience and I kinda cherish them. One, for the obvious fact that you know, its berak. C'mon people. Secondly, I get to read them books I have stashed on the towel lines in the upstairs bathroom. But this is also the reason that it has taken me this long to finish this book. So yesterday, before 2016 breathed its last breath, I vowed to get me my fourth book to salvage what has been a well, now that I think about it, 2016 is actually an OK year for me. LOL. But yeah, to make it more OK than it has been towards me. I had to get my fourth no matter what. So I read basically half the book in just one day, give or take the same amount of pages that took me months to finish.I was like why the fuck is the book taking such a long time to end and right after I was done, on the cover it says 'a story of three generations' LOL.</div>
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Mental note: Should have pick a slimmer book next if the purpose was just to meet the quota. (Not taking away anything from the book though. It's fucking gorgeous!) </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
So fuck my rambling self, here's a recap of 2016 reads. </div>
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Yay!</div>
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</div>
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</div>
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-X1zJEa4C64I/WGhtcdny1yI/AAAAAAAAJVc/mDZMx8D8pLIECQFc3Rxe433m2-Kt-0r1QCEw/s1600/images%2B%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-X1zJEa4C64I/WGhtcdny1yI/AAAAAAAAJVc/mDZMx8D8pLIECQFc3Rxe433m2-Kt-0r1QCEw/s320/images%2B%25281%2529.jpg" width="209" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_vkm2zfbE4M/WGhtb2GqEkI/AAAAAAAAJVc/eGtx7DaT9OYMZlC95xFKL8qWa58UntBkwCEw/s1600/51CMgOOuMBL._SX324_BO1%252C204%252C203%252C200_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_vkm2zfbE4M/WGhtb2GqEkI/AAAAAAAAJVc/eGtx7DaT9OYMZlC95xFKL8qWa58UntBkwCEw/s320/51CMgOOuMBL._SX324_BO1%252C204%252C203%252C200_.jpg" width="209" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-x064UNE61sU/WGhtb6oXMYI/AAAAAAAAJVc/TcV0bCcRgvsb_D2d0JmmQ3DFBvnI5WCVACEw/s1600/Beerinhell.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-x064UNE61sU/WGhtb6oXMYI/AAAAAAAAJVc/TcV0bCcRgvsb_D2d0JmmQ3DFBvnI5WCVACEw/s320/Beerinhell.jpg" width="206" /></a></div>
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May 2017 be a kinder year, book wise :)</div>
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Raizzènhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01930709494290824912noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14771387.post-31728453711957216972016-12-28T18:52:00.000+08:002016-12-28T18:59:59.502+08:00Vive Le Resistance!<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fZEHwelv6eQ/WGOY_gLf42I/AAAAAAAAJU4/cXikNHF0Licc0WSKLzmBTYGeo2yPYkUuwCLcB/s1600/la-et-harrison-ford-carrie-fisher-20161227.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="221" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fZEHwelv6eQ/WGOY_gLf42I/AAAAAAAAJU4/cXikNHF0Licc0WSKLzmBTYGeo2yPYkUuwCLcB/s320/la-et-harrison-ford-carrie-fisher-20161227.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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There's something about death that fascinates people. Their actions nicer. Their images somewhat softer and their words, all of a sudden much truer. </div>
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Here's to the Resistance. The Princess of all Princesses.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i>"I looked over at him. A hero’s face — a few strands of hair fell over his noble, slightly furrowed brow… How could you ask such a shining specimen of a man to be satisfied with the likes of me?”</i></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
- Carrie Fisher 1956 - 2016</div>
Raizzènhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01930709494290824912noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14771387.post-83661297234051538202016-12-21T23:54:00.001+08:002016-12-22T00:30:48.733+08:00You Were...<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
15 years ago. Me, a new transfer student. And there was this girl, checking out my calculator. Giving me a somewhat sideway looks and didn't say a word. She may have thought that she was a delinquent or maybe she was trying to look cool in front of this new kid. Me, I was only too nervous about my hair doing a cameo in front of this cute girl therefore ruining her first impression.<br />
<br />
That was my very first memory of you.<br />
<br />
Fast forward, You and me. Man and a woman.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
It's happened before. But this time around it looked like Facebook isn't giving up on reminding me. The picture of us with my mom in the middle during Hafiz's wedding. It's like a video of a painful memory playing on a loop. I know the feelings will pass but I know that this time it wouldn't just fizzle away like many a times before.<br />
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-g_g4Q9TZyR4/WFqjGHa1JPI/AAAAAAAAJUo/7qX4I-Sbzag3msg7NkU3M63GLaNPxkSAACLcB/s1600/471523_4728279237460_746841608_o%2B%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-g_g4Q9TZyR4/WFqjGHa1JPI/AAAAAAAAJUo/7qX4I-Sbzag3msg7NkU3M63GLaNPxkSAACLcB/s320/471523_4728279237460_746841608_o%2B%25282%2529.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
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I had to see you. After what I did. It was selfish of me. I know.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Forgive me.</div>
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<br /></div>
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I didn't know what I was looking for but I had to see you.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
There was something in the demise of our relationship that still pains me. That I had severed it unlike a man. A man would have had the balls and strength to say those things to you to your face. But I wasn't half the man I always portray myself to be.</div>
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We didn't have closure you and me. My actions denied us that. My selfish actions.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I had my reasons but there is simply no forgiveness in ending something that used to be so central in my life with a few drops of thoughtless texts.</div>
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<br /></div>
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At the risk of sounding like a broken record, please forgive me.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I know it took me two years. Two years two late. Apologies long overdue. These past two years I thought I had maybe grown a bit, thinking there might just be a silver lining of hope. Two years away and thinking I had grown. I thought that maybe, just maybe we could, you know... That something was still there.<br />
<br />
I was a fool and I still am the naive snot-nose that I thought I outgrew. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
You found someone.<br />
<br />
And that is perfectly okay.<br />
<br />
Malicious as I am I know I am happy for you. I am glad that it is him. In the perfect storm of your life, you found so sturdy a vessel. And from the bottom of my black heart, I am happy for you.<br />
<br />
Congratulations HAQ.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Through these blurry eyes, via these my muffled screams and through these thousands of apologies, I would not deny myself gratitude. Thankfulness.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
That for a while there, you were mine. For whatever little chances given to me and for however spectacularly have I squandered them.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Thank you HAQ.<br />
<br />
For the many smiles.<br />
<br />
For the many tears.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Thank you.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Know that you were MY inspirations. The stars in my nights. The many reasons of my near frowns.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
To my best friend.<br />
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</div>
Raizzènhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01930709494290824912noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14771387.post-87754943671567396432016-11-11T17:22:00.000+08:002016-11-11T17:24:43.757+08:00Book Updates!!!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KzycQzHt6Fs/WCWL1uHcRsI/AAAAAAAAJT4/5XWMxc2ox1kMl8R9CviBOGAOBsgwR3WhwCLcB/s1600/images.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KzycQzHt6Fs/WCWL1uHcRsI/AAAAAAAAJT4/5XWMxc2ox1kMl8R9CviBOGAOBsgwR3WhwCLcB/s320/images.jpg" width="209" /></a></div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
2017 menjengah around the corner. Finally finished the book. This book and the other, somewhat make me feel a little bit tired with UK writers. They could drag the whole story around the bush telling you about nothing and they could do that, amazingly in 300 pages. </div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
The Normal Me would have quit long time ago. But I want to be a finisher. I wanna finish things I have started. So I soldiered on. </div>
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Not to say that it's an entirely bad book, but the best parts, the parts that somewhat moved you were in the last hundred pages or so. Dang!</div>
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Look, I'm no expert to review books and stuffs. But damnnnnnn!</div>
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OK. Whatever.</div>
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Third book of 2016. Yay!</div>
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<br /></div>
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And still a month and a half away for at least one more book or a head start for 2017. Whichever comes first.</div>
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Please pardon the title. I'm a hopeless romantic, the little girl inside me cries for these corny, mushy stuffs. </div>
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<br /></div>
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So there.</div>
Raizzènhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01930709494290824912noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14771387.post-6613706370736865872016-10-24T23:43:00.001+08:002016-10-24T23:51:39.812+08:00And Heart Is...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/4a/56/75/4a567509464369910f80610df55230f6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/4a/56/75/4a567509464369910f80610df55230f6.jpg" width="233" /></a></div>
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</div>
<br />
<i>If ever we shall meet again in a universe parallel</i><br />
<i>Would you still call me Darlink, can I still call you Angel ?</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Would you still love me if the circumstance we meet was different ?</i><br />
<i>Would you take my hand and ride off to a sunset in that rusty wagon ?</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Would you laugh at my silly jokes or have you always knew ?</i><br />
<i>Dumb as I may joked I have NEVER when I said that I love you</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>If we were strangers brushing each other's shoulders on a train</i><br />
<i>I wonder if you would catch me staring from the opposite lane</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>I have said Hello to you so many times that I lost count</i><br />
<i>Though most of it happened in my mind & just outside of a frown</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Hence if a day comes memory fails me & my mind shredded to pieces</i><br />
<i>I'll find my way back because home is where the heart is; </i><br />
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<i>And heart is wherever she is.</i>Raizzènhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01930709494290824912noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14771387.post-297435237905865742016-10-21T09:54:00.002+08:002016-10-21T09:59:13.258+08:00Mak...<div style="text-align: justify;">
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With friends. Guy friends. Fuck you. Fuck me. Then we are not even bothered to shake hands. We go on. With the girls, well a little bit more complex. But we talked it out. Bam! We go again. With siblings. I fucking hate you you demonstrate exactly the same amount of hatred towards me, but if you would find yourself in a fight, you know I'll be there in your corner more than to wipe off the blood from your wounds, sweat and tears - I would help you deliver the killing blow and later help you hide the body.</div>
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With partners, well a story for anoother time. Well, they're you know, partners.</div>
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But with our Moms.</div>
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Its always a little bit extra delicate. You love her. You hate her. She disses you. You're angry. But you always come back. I wish I could be angry at my mom for a little bit longer. But I never can't.</div>
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So here's what I promise what I will try to do.</div>
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I will love you unconditionally.</div>
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No matter our differences. No matter our disagreements. I will always love you. So I'm gonna do what I have to do no matter how seemingly unpretty, so that I could love you. Simply because I love you Mak. And I will always do no matter how much I seem to contradict these words.</div>
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And I hope you know that. I dunno how frankly, what with me being the biggest asshole there is to you. But I hope you do. But I'll guess you'll never find it out from me.</div>
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<i>Your ungrateful son.</i></div>
Raizzènhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01930709494290824912noreply@blogger.com0