few things make me move these days
few things make my world rattle, makes it heave
very little things even matter



at least not too long ago, some bastard gave a crap, its even pathetic now that not one single jackass gives a holly ass shyte. there, who says you can't have that much swearing in one sentence.
tired is when the body feels like a punching bag, beaten all over. weary is when the body feels like purging every drop of caffeine drank under the influence of undone assignments. enough is when nights are meant for preparing speeches on euthanasia, morning comes and you try to make sense of that 5 pages long of justification on the nonsensical practice of mercy killing , afternoon knocks and it's time to dig up some brainy ass clever answers on exchange rate, and it's midnight again, and it's back to square one. it's back to squeezing that minuscule brain of yours on the suitability of the linear regression technique.
in between is the time of torture. the after hours is when the aftermath takes its course. exactly when you feel like all hell have break loose. so you go on screaming in your head, at decibels so high, your vein dilates and eventually raptures. exhausted. and all you ever wanted, all you ever crave is one good dream, one decent sleep. an imaginary world where you try to make belief of all things far fetched, so you hang on to that last grip, so tight, that maybe you wouldn't fall out of grace (again).
the silent therapy is when you first let that tough slap across the face cools away. the quite epiphany is when you make peace with the mistakes you thought would do justice for all the things you've done wrong, a retribution for the times you thought life is all about the wrongs that you ought to make at the right time. the psycho escapist period is when you poke through all your exam sheets, you make multiple attempt of killing your snugly pillow , you try to treat nescafe like it was John Barleycorn also that time when you go on a hiatus and resort to hookah.
the act of ceding is when you deliberately ask the rhetorical question , why-oh-why. relinquishing is when he tells you "tomorrow you'll fail to fail" and it turns out to be a complete bogus, the sympathetic lie you wish nobody would ever tell. giving up is when you seat on your chair and thought- that's enough, c'est la vie. c'est la vie. and life's' a bitch. giving up is when you gave it all, you swore you gave everything and still got back a handful of crap.
putting up a block dead face is when you're almost rolled out eyeballs fells like sinking in tears. exiting the class in blisters of shame. escaping the heavy air that chokes your right around the neck. bringing the world to silence is when you simply shuts off and remain hollow, untouchable by all remarks.gliding through the crowd is when you try to be invisible, because they've had the pieces all wrong. failure is my middle name. it's always there. now maybe just more commonly addressed than before.
i want a stranger, completely orthogonal. i want a stranger to show me all the new places. i want a stranger that would excite me with all the new experiences. i want a stranger to shake my world. to make me do somersaults again.
very little things even matter



at least not too long ago, some bastard gave a crap, its even pathetic now that not one single jackass gives a holly ass shyte. there, who says you can't have that much swearing in one sentence.
tired is when the body feels like a punching bag, beaten all over. weary is when the body feels like purging every drop of caffeine drank under the influence of undone assignments. enough is when nights are meant for preparing speeches on euthanasia, morning comes and you try to make sense of that 5 pages long of justification on the nonsensical practice of mercy killing , afternoon knocks and it's time to dig up some brainy ass clever answers on exchange rate, and it's midnight again, and it's back to square one. it's back to squeezing that minuscule brain of yours on the suitability of the linear regression technique.
in between is the time of torture. the after hours is when the aftermath takes its course. exactly when you feel like all hell have break loose. so you go on screaming in your head, at decibels so high, your vein dilates and eventually raptures. exhausted. and all you ever wanted, all you ever crave is one good dream, one decent sleep. an imaginary world where you try to make belief of all things far fetched, so you hang on to that last grip, so tight, that maybe you wouldn't fall out of grace (again).
the silent therapy is when you first let that tough slap across the face cools away. the quite epiphany is when you make peace with the mistakes you thought would do justice for all the things you've done wrong, a retribution for the times you thought life is all about the wrongs that you ought to make at the right time. the psycho escapist period is when you poke through all your exam sheets, you make multiple attempt of killing your snugly pillow , you try to treat nescafe like it was John Barleycorn also that time when you go on a hiatus and resort to hookah.
the act of ceding is when you deliberately ask the rhetorical question , why-oh-why. relinquishing is when he tells you "tomorrow you'll fail to fail" and it turns out to be a complete bogus, the sympathetic lie you wish nobody would ever tell. giving up is when you seat on your chair and thought- that's enough, c'est la vie. c'est la vie. and life's' a bitch. giving up is when you gave it all, you swore you gave everything and still got back a handful of crap.
putting up a block dead face is when you're almost rolled out eyeballs fells like sinking in tears. exiting the class in blisters of shame. escaping the heavy air that chokes your right around the neck. bringing the world to silence is when you simply shuts off and remain hollow, untouchable by all remarks.gliding through the crowd is when you try to be invisible, because they've had the pieces all wrong. failure is my middle name. it's always there. now maybe just more commonly addressed than before.
i want a stranger, completely orthogonal. i want a stranger to show me all the new places. i want a stranger that would excite me with all the new experiences. i want a stranger to shake my world. to make me do somersaults again.
haha, saya nak mati. kadang kadang walaupun hanya expression, it insinuates the real situation.













