Woah… too many colours.

The slightest hand of redemption fell onto daft ears at dawn;
the leaking whispers of athan rang to beckon for my forgiveness.
As I lay aimlessly on the bed with uncertainty to perform a feast of prayers –
for my poor soul, I know that there are way too many steps that I must shadow.

The screaming weekends drink to a lonely weekday and I too fell into many sins.
I can’t help  but think that this is all my doing.
Ya Allah let me fall away from grace for a few more seconds before chasing after you.
I need the sweet loot that will help me champion my heavy nights.

She aimlessly flights into past commotions in my mind while
you God plague me with dreams that would break the 10th of thousands.

Ya Allah, I am nor 10 of these men
that could carry the weights of the world.

Please let me dive into the wishing well
for a few seconds… because you and I both know.

I am no hero that could save her soul.


It’s 3:07 in the morning and I’m watching the Microsoft Word 2007 watch me.
Universities after universities.
And the statement of purpose is supposed to explain why I would like to study in their university.

… and I don’t know why I want to study in their university.
If only I had a few more months to decide what to do with my life: I could pick the right one.
But the endless nights are keeping warm with questions on which journey I’d like to go for.

If only I had the money – I wouldn’t have to rush to ponder on who I’d like to be.
Because all I know is that all I wanted to be was me.
And even I don’t know where he is.

And I don’t understand why we can’t be together.

I moved blog (reminder): www.vulgar-ramblings.blogspot.com


This fucker decided to change blog.

I shall maintain this blog as well for my EMO days.

my new blog is at:


The Beatles were never really a band that I publically enjoyed, thus it was a private crooning session for me, myself and I before I rest my head. Saying this; it is also a personal day-dream fantasy of mine to play these kind of easy tunes for my daughter or son (I only want two kids). Hopefully, years and years of guitar playing served it’s purpose and choose it for being a weapon of choice when putting the little munchkins to sleep (tested and worked on my niece).

Perhaps, I was never meant to be famous up on stage with rascals jumping about; BUT a father on a stool playing a song while my wife sing our children to sleep.
This is a personal bedtime favourite “I’m only sleeping” by The Beatles. Get the original version and such, and tell me what you think.

Hopefully, one of my (future) kids would grow up to be artistically artistic… unlike his tone-deaf (future) father.

probably armed and dangerous.

mug shot 1: probably armed and dangerous.

Headline: Chinese Sayur Girl complains about Levi’s jeans.

So, this was the situation:
She was busy describing Levi’s jeans and how it wasn’t versatile enough.
And then.
Skype froze.
I laughed like hell.

Pekchek in all her glory.
Showing dissatisfaction towards the infamous jeans maker.
We now know that Levi give lifetime warranty.

Thank you for showing us your dissatisfaction.


*caution: this is not a poem*

i drive into the night.
and find myself a secluded spot.
to take that line and coke.
and scream my lungs out.
before i drive back;
i laugh.

because you don’t know i’m lost with you.
because a part of me died with you.
because i want to be lost –
it makes me feel comfortable,
this is what i’ve always known.

and then the only person that comes to being;
is you.
the only person i wanted to be with the most.

because i miss being you.


It was not bathed in colours but the contrast was subdued in black and white. I awoke in a tropical setting, near the beach where it felt deserted as it was the evening. I felt that before I entered a cold room and the walls were silently black in distress. It felt empty at first from the cold foundation of the door, as it opened – I felt like a child entering a monstrous contraption but serene followed close behind. The sun and the sea peeked through from where I stood; in the middle of the room, where the veranda stood proudly in front of me. I understood that the sun and the ocean were watching me and my guilt. I closed my eyes and listened to the calm ocean brushing against the tide and the rocks, the children screaming and playing on the blanket of sand, their footsteps were numb-like bass acoustics that distracted me from the creaking walls around, the faulty surrounding where I know now that the room was left untouched. It felt like home.

As I grazed my feet through the footsteps of the parquet floor I realized distress had slowly crept into my ears as I found a girl sitting on the floor; it was Fatiha. She grabbed onto her legs and wept quietly while her hair covered her face, her eyes watching the floor and her life before my eyes. I came closer to her and touched her shoulder and asked, “Are you alright?” She responded through her weeping, “I’m lost, Khairi”. I broke down and tears churned from my eyes, I stepped back and realized this room was not a hotel where it felt like the Bahamas or the Caribbean, but it was the room that I promised to have build; the life that we wanted to have; a house by the beach, the sound of children playing on the sand and the sea breeze lightly brushing against our skin. “I’m home” I wondered and secretly longed for this dream to never end but my attention moved back to my lover’s cry. I held her hand and slowly pulled her from the floor, she felt weak and cold. I wiped her tears and my mind remembered back when she was sick at times and felt her body was cold as ice. This time; her body was warm as I hugged her and let her body lean onto mine. I wiped her tears and whispered quietly into her left ear, “It’s alright. I’m here – don’t worry”. The embrace was symmetry of consequences; the dream, our home, the love that strayed so far from two vessels and my life that changed from the love.

It is said that our dreams reflect the nature of our subconscious honesty and compassion; where a situation occurs in reality and one could not better it when one knows that he/she could and should have. It is the guilt from the situation in reality that drives the host to at least comfort his/her own soul from tearing apart (thus, comforting the host in his/her own dream). If this is the case; then perhaps I’m to blame for my past relationship because I could not have saved my girlfriend from drifting too far from me, letting her sink into a quicksand of depression and not saving her from the world that we all feared. Are my dreams direct interpretations of my honest incapability to her when we were together?

I woke up later and messaged her asking if she was alright and her only response was, “I’m not particularly ok… but I’m managing” before I replied back “Stay strong and good-bye”. Honestly, I would like to have asked if she has eaten and if she felt cold at night or even what was bothering her but I did not have the guts to say these things because I didn’t want to get hurt once more. Even if I loved her and cherished her through our rough time; I couldn’t carry her world on my shoulders once again as it had crushed me 6 feet under before. It did once, and I did not intend to have it once more. If I was God, I would have turned back the time to ease her pain and made her smile. Alas, I am not.

What you missed out on…

June 2018
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