That I Have Arrived

Its this sort of thing, finding something at the least expected time, at a lesser expected place. My heart was practically tugged seeing that which contains what which contains.

A step is just a step but this is to be the step in which all bridges burned, all second guesses turned. 

An obituary for second thoughts, set stationary are the epitaphs, the tombstone its final resting place.

I have looked forward to this day, yet I cannot say that I have arrived.

Sombre

Today as I was sitting at my workstation, taking off my jacket. The speaker blared an announcement,. Its our HR department.

"Dukacita dimaklumkan bahawa Puan Nurul Asyikin Shuib telah pun kembali ke rahmatullah semalam.."

My chest painful. 

My stomach feel like somebody just tangled all its contents into one big knot. 

It felt unreal.

The smiling Kak Nurul, those droopy eyes with the depth unfathomable as if they know what turbulence is running havoc in your mind right. I won't see that again. I was so distracted, until the voice of the girl manning the counter "Ye Encik, nak apa ?" shake me off my distraction. I had neither the cash nor any idea what did I want for breakfast, hence I left.

Jackasses

I woke up this morning to find my pillows wetted. I think I was crying a little bit last night. This is so painful. How could this have happened ? After all these times ? My eyes pudgy, blood shot, staying through the course of the night, reminiscing the good times. 

My friends, they care and are worried for me. They asked me how was I holding up and they let it be known that they are there if I should ever feel like talking things through with some going a stretch further than the others. And they didn't exactly make it subtle either. Constantly lingering, ever compassionately reminding me that BEING A UNITED FAN SUCKS NOW.

A club switching form ? Goddamn them.

Mera Nam Joker

Words cannot cannot describe how frustrated I am now. 

OK. Laters.

Serbis

What a jerkin' service. So minimal. Tukar minyak and asked "OK apa lagi ?".

Mental note. Not to go again. After all I went there only because of the free oil filter. Serves me right for my cheapskate ass.

OK. The entry's actually more of a reminder because the fucker who serviced my car was bent in getting me out of the shop as immediately as he can. Either he forgot to stick the 'next service' sticker or the level of service is so bad they don't even have the sticker to begin with. Either way I myself lupa, so again padan muka aku.

Kancilku sayang serviced at the 113th mile, more or less. 

Field of Dreams

Its hard to take, this. United's probably gonna lose at Stamford Bridge 5 minutes from now, the match is approaching. But win or lose, to the bitter ends.

Those Who Live By The Pen

Those who live by the pen die under the pain of cliches
Such's the price us Poets traded our souls to pay

In an attempt so futile to please, we instead irate
Longed to be understood yet we mislead so deliberate

In the lights so gay openly we brood
Haven't I said that we live to be misunderstood ?

Bewildering

"Don't hurt women for they are frail, weak creature. Please stay off my girlfriend. I love her so much"

WHAT ?

That came out unexpected.

Oh, hi, its nice to see you too. Grumbled I, albeit to myself. Regained my composure. My breath controlled and calculated while my mind hectic, trying to connect the dots that were so suddenly thrown in my path. 

Oh, that.

Still.

WHAT THE FUCK ?

Me ? Harassing somebody else's girlfriend ? Well, that's good to fucken' know. Oh, fuck you anyways. Then please tell your girlfriend to not breath so close down my neck, literally. And while you're at it a leash wouldn't sound inhumane too.

So stay off me snowflake, for I am THE Evil itself, reincarnated.

Tet tenenenenet!

I Refuse To Sink

Another home defeat for United. This time to Swansea. This is getting painful to watch. And tomorrow's Monday and its werk after a week off. How. Why. How the fuck do I start. I don't even know.

Edit:: 3.02 a.m on the clock. Still trying to make sense of this loss.

Some sections of United fans have been slating Moyes from the start of the season. What do I care, those plastics! For me, if you're gonna claim to be a die-hard, shamelessly grinning when the days were bright, you gotta learn to weather the storm too. If you're gonna start getting your panties up in a bunch when things don't go your way. Then you're unfit to call yourself a die-hard. Save that for fair weathers.

Problem is, I think even some of the loyal ones are starting to ask if Moyes is the right man for the job.

Your guess is as good as mine.

But my hunch, rather than certainty tells me he is. United fans have over the years grown spoiled, winning silverwares after another. They've grown to set unrealistic benchmark for their team. All due to the miracle in the form of one Alex Ferguson. Lets face it, he won the league with the likes of Cleverley, Anderson and Carrick as a central midfield line-up, a line-up that is mediocre at best. That's a tall order to ask from any manager, let alone somebody new. That's just Sir Alex for you. A man with the Midas Touch.

But.

He took well over 26 years to come to that level. Moyes hasn't even been in charge one season. He inherited, barring the likes of Persie and Rooney, a mediocre team at best. They may be Champions but I bet Pellegrini or Arsene Wenger would bleed their temples, scratching their heads having to field this team week in week out. That's just the magic that Sir Alex was.

I digressed.

Moyes, given the time, I believe will bring the much celebrated stability that United boasts over the years. But time is a luxury that most modern day managers and owners cannot afford. He will get it right eventually. Time, time, time is of the essence and I cannot cannot stress this enough.

I'm willing to go as far as to give him 3 trophy-less seasons, though hopeful of Champions League qualifications. Sit back, its going to be a really bumpy ride but I believe faith will take us far and reward us handsomely.

But till that time come, I'm still grievin. ={

Cut me up and I still bleed Red.

Damnit!

I confess to being at times, a little mellower than I'd like to admit. But tell me WHO THE FUCK CUTS HIS ONIONS AT THIS POINT OF TIME IN THE AFTERNOON ? Nobody!

Making my eyes tearing up and shit. Damnit!

Probably

This is what happens when its 4 something in the morning and your brain decides that counting sheeps is too mainstream a thing, and thinking (overthinking) is a 'thing'. Creative inflow of thoughts in neither sequential nor logical order. They just randomly appear one thing after the other.

So a cheesy collage maybe ? Why the heck not.

So in the collage above that was probably me, probably Island Hopping in probably an island somewhere probably in the Northern state of Malaysia. Probably with a new hat and probably a new pair of probably RED crocs. Ciplak of course.

Edit: Island hopping was probably nice. An island surrounded by salt water and in the middle of her belly a freshwater lake. Awesome brilliant! (me running out of adjectives) Taktau berenang ? Tak jadi masalah. At ten Ringgit, an overpriced life jacket can be rented out from the nearest peddler. So why the heck not ? Probably.

Edit's edit: Island Hopping consists of 3 activities in total. Pulau Dayang Bunting with the freshwater skinny dipping. Tengok and bagi makan Helang and lepaking at Pulau Beras Basah, FYI.

Two, one of my bestest pal is getting married today. My feelings are jumbled into a pile of mess, weepy substance, remnants of what's left of masculinity inside of me. Happy for him that he's found the one. Sad on the other that things may never be the same again. Probably, its just me. I'm a Melan Choly fucker like that.

Hafiz, congratulations on your wedding and good luck in your future undertakings. You're one of the most upstanding guy I have ever met and she is lucky to have landed you.

And one thing not many people may know about him is that he loves his grass to the point of trying to befriend them as can be seen from the picture below:

Either that or he was trying to cover up the fact that he was farting. Nice try Hafiz. Nice try.

..of Folders & Stuffs.

 

You have a folder in my heart.

The one I can't unclick when we're bytes apart.

Haq :)

Painful

There's so many things I wanna say right now. But truth is United just isn't playing how United should be. What hurts even more is to see your fans succumb to that defeatist attitude too. Yes it hurts, yes we're not used to these conditions. Back to back defeat at Old Trafford is just something quite unheard of in Sir Alex Ferguson's era. But isn't it our job as fans to lift our team when things are down ? Fuck you fair weather fans. You cheer wholeheartedly while things are going United way and you leave as soon things go down.

But I won't. I was there when things were good, am still here when things are down. And I will be there when things are looking up again. Trust me on that.

David Moyes is still the man for the job.

These. Are testing times.

Never Is A Long Time

I'll be realistic. 

I don't think United will win this coming Sunday's game against flavour of the week, Arsenal. Everybody talks about how silky smooth this team is. Well, it is true that they posses one the most entertaining midfield line up in the Premier League. Worthy of envy especially to someone like me who cringed at the lack of fluidity in the middle of the park for United.

BUT.

Wouldn't it be nice to smother their faces with their own words if United being United, unpredict-fucken-able and being the only team you write off at your own ignorant peril. If there's one thing these loudmouths should have learned watching United over the years, it is always too premature to count the eggs before they actually hatch.

"You NEVER win anything with kids"

Alan Hansen epitomized just how unpleasant the taste of your own words could be.

So sit back. 

United's got nothing to lose. Everybody's practically written us off. Even our own fans. So what do we have to lose ? Well yeah, bragging rights. But that simply means we should be able to play without chips on our shoulders. I just hope that Moyes will not resort to his usual 'safe' defensive style that I think has clearly been proven too risky.

Attack.

Offense is ALWAYS the best mode of defense. Especially with teams with mediocre midfield like United.

Sorrows

In this pain I writhe
With this wrath I breath

I did not found solitude
It found me. Vulnerable & nude.

Pissed at visibly everything
And angry at apparently nothing.

Storm passes, worse is what follows
Flood ceases, subplot to what's tomorrow

Go away.

Let me drown in my sorrows.

Lead Me Astray

Numbers are overrated. For I found more company in solitude.

Leave me alone.

At the bottom of these feelings.

Entrapped within the abyss of this unfathomable altitude.

Hence engulfed within Wrath of this magnitude.

A Day In My Life

Started the day working out. Workouts release dopamine that brings about happiness, supposedly. So I was whistling my way to the office. The weather couldn't be nicer. Rays of sunlight pierced through my polarized Zara shades. And my Alpine Bluetooth car stereo was blaring one of my favorite songs.

Niceness.

But just as I was stepping on the gas of my newly equipped turbo-charged Kancil to max pedal, simply because I like how it goes, the car right in front of me, in fact, lines of cars in front of me, came to a sudden halt. Many a times have I been told the current braking system that I'm employing just doesn't cut it to cater the new found power under the hood.

So the cars came to a sudden halt, and there I was braking and braking since my approximation estimates that I wouldn't make it in time to stop the car totally - hence I had to maneuver the car to the left, practically wobbling about all the while my front tyres were screaming and screeching so loudly that I bet people around must have thought there was already an accident or something. But thanks be to Allah that nothing happened. I was left to wonder alone and crooking a smile - from a seemingly anonymous feelings. Something in between embarrassment and being proud. Weird. But that's exactly how the crooked smile felt.

So I reached the office with nothing eventful after that. And yes, true to what they say, workouts do make you happy. Especially morning ones. So I was feeling hyper, practically greeting, hand-shaking, winking everybody that I met along the way. Settling long-pending outstandings and ticking off checklists. 

That was until the very moment I forwarded an email to Finance Department. An email I took almost 2 hours to craft. Dilly dallying between direct and subtle finger-pointing to Finance. Don't wanna piss these people off, but at the same time I'm tired of taking unnecessary fall for things I do not know about. The fault was Finance's. But the challenge was to craft that email so artfully that Finance will think that it was a compliment.

I spent almost 2 hours perfecting the correspondence, all in the good name of the unit and all in the name of resolving bullshits. To manage things so subtle, I tried my hardest not to piss anyone off in the process. And all I got in return from my immediate superior was the loudest yell of my name and a good, straight to the heart scolding. 

THANK YOU. But FUCK YOU.

With mouth so uninsured, you'd think that I have a heart made of steel. But no. Hell no. I take scoldings especially from my superiors like a sore loser. I hate being scolded. Because I'm special. And go fuck yourself if you can't live with that. I have NEVER been scolded EVER in my professional years and I will NEVER be ready for one.

I'm not the problem. YOU picking fights with practically everybody and feeling lousy about it later is symptom enough for this hypothesis. Hence stop trying to find a solution for the trouble that YOU are. Its like trying to locate an ant's anus from 93,000,000 miles away from the face of the earth. That's the sun's distance for you intellectually challenged chaps out there.

Sheep, lambs, goats but WHO's counting ?

This Is Making Me Sad..

My nephew posting a picture with spitting image of his late father. I wonder what he must feel. Does he miss his dad ? Does he wish at times he could talk to him ? About girls, about the many dreams he must have.. I wonder. Makes me teary, this.

I cannot cannot imagine the kind of pain one at such a tender age has to go through. Wanting to talk to that somebody. So badly. But you just can't.

Farhan mesti nak cerita dekat Ayah that he wishes to follow his footsteps. Suka main bola. Sangat-sangat. Farhan mesti rasa nak Ayah could hug him and just tell him that everything will be just fine.

All the things he wishes to say. All the father-son things they never get to do..

In Spite of Everything.

..regardless of things I say.