..Wednesday, May 21, 2008..
The ethereal and immensely talented senikatawati
Wani Ardy has tagged me. The subject matter, oddly enough, is why I shouldn't be your boyfriend. Yes. So here it is.
7 Reasons Why You Would Not Want Me As Your Boyfriend
- I am very, very, very hopelessly romantic. Sure it'll get you off for a while in the early going. After a while it probably gets old? Who wants me to sing to them or read to them every night anyway?
- Inasmuch as I am a hopeless romantic, I am also an average guy. Therefore, I will forget the important things such as your birthday, our anniversary, your favourite color, your favourite song of all time, your mother's name, the names of your friends, that thing you told me about last week that you told me not to forget, and in the event that my phone is broken or lost, I'll even forget your phone number. These are a certainty when it comes to me.
- I bite. Not playfully, either.
- I will, unashamedly and heartlessly, put priority of watching Wrestlemania over going out on a date with you.
- I smoke like a chimney. If you can live with that, then I will love you for all eternity.
- I am inherently boring, I only ever converse about literature, law, history, the Hallmark Channel and boring things that will put you to sleep; and the last reason why you wouldn't want me to be your boyfriend is:
- I don't really have a heart.
So yes, that was me being tagged. I'm not sure who to tag, so this is pretty much open to anyone, really. You, even. Yes,
you.
Thank you.
How strange. Why such degradatory topic?
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Apakah kau masih ingatkan aku,
Lalu sang angin,
Mengeluh berlalu pergi
Ku tanya pada bintang-bintang,
Dimana dirimu yang mencintai aku,
Lalu bintang-bintang,
Pudar di malam dingin
Ku tanya pada tukang kedai mamak,
Berikan aku satu erti cinta sejati,
Lalu mamak,
Memberiku teh halia
Kurang manis,
Kataku,
Lalu mamak,
Mengeluh berlalu pergi.
Terima Kasih.
One word - english. You're better at it. hahahaaaaaaa :)
Do not underestimate the power of teh halia, dear miss. :p
Ini macam A Samad Said baca dia boleh nangis!
Shahriman penyajak budiman
You should write lyrics.
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You will find it nevertheless, tattered and well-worn, distinctly unbecoming and immensely unattractive. It is but a husk of what it was formerly, for beauty rarely wins the fight with time. Nothing is beautiful forever. Yet you pick it up, curiously. My thoughts, my words, my heart on that battered notebook.
The pages are yellowed, but then again, it was already so when I bought it. And you read the words that were previously privy to only myself, an affront to my personal secret, but nevertheless acceptable because it is you who reads it. You dwell on my thoughts, you taste my happiness and joy and bitterness and sadness, and you realize, as certain as the ground you now walk on, as tangible as my decaying notebook in your hands, that I am yours. You know, as you read my rambles and thoughts, that only I alone would understand your entire being, that I alone would make you whole.
The tragedy of course, you realize, far down the line, is that I have been dead for twenty or so years, and that you have been born far too late for us to have ever meet.
Life can pull that on you, sometimes. You hold my heart in your hands, and you hope that one day, even if in dreams, that I would come and say to you, Oh, you have something that belongs to me. I've been looking for it for quite some time. I see it is with you, and it is yours now.
I lost my notebook the other day. I fear I will never find it again.
Thank you.
Love it. As always though, can never tell if things are fact or fiction with you.
The story is so sad. I once kinda had this thing for a guy older than my very own dad. We just...connected so well.
Do you believe in soul mates? Is a soulmate still a soulmate if you never met him? Do soulmates necessarily live at the same time?
Reminds me of...I think it was Lakehouse with Sandra Bullock and Keanu Reeves.And also The Time Traveller's Wife.
To tell you the truth, I don't know what I believe in anymore. Haha.
I prefer the original Korean version of the Lakehouse, though. Don't really remember what it's called. I watched it on TV a few years back on an idle Friday afternoon.
Don't ask me why I remember the day. I don't know. Something must've happened.
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It probably does not make sense now, but feel free to browse your way here.
All I can say is that it's about time. This has been years on the shelf. It's about time it took flight and see what happens, I suppose.
It is an interesting period in my life right now, apparently.
Thank you.
Dear Shahriman,
Being an avid reader of your writing, I am very intrigued!
Good luck!
Dear Azra,
I am deeply humbled that you consider my writings worth reading. :)
Thank you for the support!
Are you involved in short films now?
Yes, very much so, Miss Aida. Really hopeful that this one will pan out. From the looks of things right now, I think things are moving along just fine.
Plus, it helps keep me busy. :)
A Married Man applauds your effort.
Sigh
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She is desire and she is the beast that you are compelled to tame. She prowls your nights and she will quench your thirst. You are the hunter and she is the prey.
Drunk on her lust you, do not realize that the hunter has become the hunted.
GEMINI
She tells you her pain and she says that you are her savior. She begs and she pleads and you, in your part, comply with her whims and fancies.
One day, when the sky is bright and the midday sun blinds you, you see her walking down the street with another man, her arms wrapped around his waist, and he is her savior now.
UNREQUITED
She watches you as you cross the road. Every day, as you go through the motions of your so-called life, she watches you intently. Patiently. She will love you and be loyal to you, and she will cherish you and support you. For as long as you will live. Until death do you part.
But you do not see her. You never will.
UTTER DEVOTION
You sit on your bed and you tell her that things don’t look too good. She looks concerned. You tell her that things aren’t going so good for us right now. There’s a stack of unpaid bills on the drawer, and you steal a glance at her.
She had put the rest of her life into your hands. She gave you her trust and her love, and she gave up her potential and youth in order to be with you. You know you’ve let her down.
She comes over and puts her arms around your shoulder. It’ll be alright, she tells you. We’ll get through this, she says. I love you.
And you wonder what you’ve done to deserve such kindness.
LONGING
She promised you that she would wait for you. She would. She did.
But you did not bother.
MIDNIGHT’S CHILD
You saw her, the other day. She has changed.
The last you saw her was when you were younger. She was wearing your Liverpool jersey and nothing much else. The morning sun radiated her face, and she skipped and danced as she made you breakfast. Her hair was a mess, and she was the most beautiful girl in the world.
She saw that you were awake, and she smiled and came over to you and straddled you and kissed you in the forehead. She giggled and said you were smelly. She smelled of yesterday’s love and the morning’s toast.
You saw her the other day, baby in hand, husband in tow. And you moved on.
WISDOM
‘Where have all the good men gone?’ she wails to you, over liquor and music. This is her world, of grinding bodies and loud music and drunken stupors and decadence. She tells you that she’s jaded. So jaded.
You tell her that maybe she’s been looking at the wrong places. There are good men around, it’s just that they don’t run in her circles, apparently.
She looks at you in contempt, and she spits venom to your face. ‘You think I’m a slut, don’t you?’
You have no idea what to say.
REASON
She is your reason. Everything you do is for her. Every breathing, waking moment of your life is in worship of her. You adore her and cherish her and think of her, even when you shouldn’t. You love her, and it is difficult for you to say to her how you truly feel about her. You’ve given her your heart. She will always carry your heart with her.
She does not understand why this is so. She says she is not divine. She is not the perfect flawless person you think she is.
You smile at her when she says this. It is not because she is divine that she is your reason. It is because she is real.
MELANCHOLIC ELECTRIC
The streetlight paints her face a sickly orange glow. She says that on some nights it isn’t so bad. You wonder why she is even talking to you.
She looks at you expectantly. She looks so sad. You walk on, and the night grew colder.
FOREVER
‘You said forever! FOREVER!’ you scream at her.
‘Forever took too long,’ she said stoically. She did not even apologize for breaking your heart.
DARKCHILD DISCHORDIA
The moment you saw her in the crowd you knew she was trouble. But it was too late. You had already made up your mind. Her long raven hair flowed into your imagination. In a rock band tee shirt and faded jeans, she was your Venus de Milo. Your muse. Your inspiration.
She will treat you like dirt, sometimes less than that. And you will treat her likewise. You will never get enough of her, and you know she can’t get enough of you.
YOUTH
You tell her the truth and she laughs at you. She tells you that you’re being silly again. You’re not, of course.
You tell her that you will always remember her as how she was when she was nineteen. That she’ll always be nineteen in your heart and in your mind. She tells you that you’re being a silly old man, and that the grandchildren are around, and it’s embarrassing if they heard you say such things.
She frustrates you sometimes, but it doesn’t matter. She has grown old with you, and you’ve learned to accept the fact that she’ll never be a hopeless romantic like you.
Thank you.
i love this. "Hollow" reminds me of me. *evil smile*
OMG.
*goosebumps*
If you publish your writings, I would definitely buy 'em.
Where do you get ur ideas from??
Enlighten me.
Cheers
MASTER SHARIMAN:
Tis Demon raise you his cup and say bravo, so well written as always.
As usual, a gift from my last entry
___________ooOoo___________
oo(O)oo
THE CHILD AND THE SKY
the little child stare staright at the sky,
his eyes shouted to the sky a red stare of bile,
his tears reek hideous blight,
his lips whispered a truth not nay,
fisticuffs be the feast of this night,
as hurt reigns in the place of his smile,
something he thought the sky sowed in guile,
by hiding shines that are gentle and mild,
and bring forth storms that made all sacrosancts rile,
pointing to him a divine lie.
but,
the sky kept sporting a havenly smile,
that kept the soil under the child's feet fertile,
and chase hunger far from his mama's scullery,
by keeping the fire merry,
and making the stove proof its worthy,
so that what was once raw became a lovely fricassee,
that would make darkness say goodbye,
hence giving place to a lovely smile,
and calmed the heart of a sadden child.
This is beautiful.
I hate it when people hit so close to home. Especially if it is a sore spot. Can totally identify with more than one of those women, although one in particular was brutally, brutally...brutal.
A drink would certainly be welcomed ;p
Well.. its funny when faced with the toughest things in life... You sit back and pour it out to an online journal...
heartbreaks.. does take its toll... a heavy toll indeed
Awesome writing... really enjoyed it.
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I am taken aback at how wonderful it feels to see you happy.
I keep your smile etched in my heart. Forevermore. Never to fade. I will not let it go. It is a remembrance of what happiness means. It is my memory of you.
Thank you.
Lisa Loeb isn't around that much these days. But the again, I'm not a Hitz FM kind of person anyway. I just listen to the same old songs again and again. Being old-fashioned comforts me.
Thank you for visiting my blog too. Your writings are just beautiful. I look up to writings such as yours and my cousin Aida's. I wish my English is as good. :)
Nice one =)
I wish you more smiles!
when all hopes to smile fade away from my sight.
a sweet one from you. may you be blessed with more sweetness.
It's funny how such a small thing changes the way someone looks.
You seem to be someone who is often sad. Are you? :)
Aww.. :P
bro how come you not online la
reading this gives me a strange tingly feeling.
this post made me smile man. thanks
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What I remember are only fragments of you. The way you seem to drift gracefully through the crowd. How your eyes smile. The way you like to fiddle with your knuckles when you're agitated. The curve of the small of your back. The way your eyebrows rise when you smile at me. I remember fragments of you, never your entirety.
I remember they way you laugh, the way your voice is like silk in in the breeze. Your sounds echo in my mind perfectly.
But it is only a matter of inevitability that I will forget even that.
With each passing day the world takes a little more of you away from me.
One day, you will be but a blur in my memory, and that saddens me.
What saddens me more is that one day I will be the same to you.
Thank you.
Master Shariman:
The important thing is that you still remember.
hello Shariman
I know what you mean. how is it possible that someone you love and cherish becomes almost a vague memory of yester year?
I fear it will happen to the one I love too, but one cannot ponder too much on the feared cause you then only fuel its power even more.
Zuleigha
Sad when you lose that exclusive feeling. Leaves a bad taste in your mouth doesn't it.
But life goes on.. or does it...
Master Shariman:
A gift from my latest entry -
THE LOUDNESS OF SILENCE
Child,
if you keep pacing the mile,
this world will show its wild,
where one's thirst be quenched only by bile,
sieve from the Pharaohs' Nile,
and only tears be the pillars of a smile,
a smile paved by guile.
But Child,
if you stop and sit for a while,
and takes breaths that ever so mild,
you would see trough all of the lies,
that hid the colors of a butterfly,
freeing the world's inner cry,
a cry that bring tears to Gabriel's eye.
And Child,
listen ever so carefully to that cry,
listen to the loudness that has never shy,
listen as it comes from a heart that you could not buy,
listen so that you would know why,
listen so that your tears would dry,
listen so that you know bed where the world lie.
And find the loudness of silence in you and I.
Have a good a life melord.
holy whoa! have you been lazy about blogging these days...
Perhaps if we worry too much about what will happen tomorrow, today will pass by emptily before we even realize it?
Happy new year man...
Still alive??
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