madnessinvain

Hoi Polloi II

2008-05-20T17:18:00.000+08:00

If your day turns gloomy, I wish for it to go away, for you are the sunshine of my heart.

If your day turns to black, I wish for you to let me stay, and let me be the star of your darkness.

Fantasma

2006-07-07T19:36:00.000+08:00

Yeah, it’s been a while.

And heck, for the fun of world cup finals, I’ve been swirling around and asking questions, who do you support, yadda yadda.

Here is the ultimate tactical view.

Allez Allez Les Bleus!

Gnosis

2006-05-02T00:28:00.000+08:00

Traversing through the labyrinth of gleam, entwine and elegising the pondering blast. Flickering, like a deity of yesteryear, bloodbath, myopic. In carousing the noble intention, swirling, zigzagging under the perfidious mighty mizzle.

Numb thoughts, bare vessels, Orion circus, and magical moments. Mirroring dimness of glory days, and parallel universe of treachery way.

Venus is on sanity mind. In the verve of saint, unfathomable under toast of faint. Flare, glare and scare. Emancipations of cloudy pillaging heart, its closer to an end.

Of the entire cosmos, elation is addiction.

The question is, when is when?

Hoi Polloi

2006-04-04T02:38:00.000+08:00

A poignant of moment, blithely in time. In a stride, under glistening human made sunshine, quieten, perfidious, it is not. The same soul divine, embarking on essence wrenching blaze. I look in your dazzling gaze, had been a while, since I last saw your face.

We are the connoisseurs of splendour, portentous at what we may not. Sliding through the limelight of yesteryear. Nook and cranny, like twinkling stars.

They say reveries are the colour of dancing nightingales. Like a paltered rainbow radiating in the sky. Magnificence, glory and all superlatives.

We shall believe in fate.

And I, will love you forever.

Every You Every Me

2006-03-22T15:28:00.000+08:00

Since last monday, i've been searching high and low for friends who love Placebo to their heart and have them on their wish list. I have a pair of this event's tickets to be given away. And i can't make it due to crazy work commitments.

Like DUH.

I know, i am a crazy.

FOC and i dont ask anything in return. Zilt, nada, ilek. Just a pure rock experience for you(and your partner) to enjoy.

To the lucky bugger i mean my friends who will be enjoying pure madness of fashionistas and rockstars on the land of Temasek. I have this to say;

Have fun.

Bijou

2006-03-17T00:38:00.000+08:00

Cool kids never have the time.

It’s the occasion of the year again. Happy Birthday Billy Corgan.

Oh yeah, happy birthday to me too.

Confetti et al.

Sui Generis

2006-03-06T03:38:00.000+08:00

Passageway of saint, dampen core, sans livid twist. Entrance of arctic rain, popping mirror, down in pain. It would never be the same, immovable gallantry for fantasy reverie. A chimera for you, not for me.

Whirling dust, contiguous thriller. Trapping speckles of ominous yesteryear. How long would a desire takes me? Thirst for euphoric moments. Glowing cosmos, raining rainbows, merrily heavenly, et all. Trolling a figment of perfidious palsy walsy. Toast of harrumph. Entwined with dazzling mystifying mystical, of God given.

Belligerent is the nucleus in me. I will go in this way, and i will find own my way out. Skirmishing to the last saint.

Archangel, this is not a pompous dream.

Please.

Lovely Pestilence

2006-02-23T01:38:00.000+08:00

Basking in the aquatic of radiance blankness, I sat in silence, roaming feebly, gaudy zestful. Like a tango, in the heart, blithely divine. Intermittent brightness, echoed rainbow, radiating stars, barren souls and all.

Life is a written insolent rendezvous. Riddles aplenty, up in the sky; dawn in seconds to go and never neverland. Let me stay inside your heart, quietly, spend my last days there.

As the zephyr caressing and twirling in the lustrous moiré ray, flicker fomented frosty snow, oozing in the vein, not without. It’s cold inside here, in my mind.

And you are dancing alone, by the light of myriads faint stars; on the dreamy milky way.

Around me, around me, around me.

Lalalalalalaaa

2006-02-15T11:38:00.000+08:00

Sunshine, perhaps it's time.

Sorry can't make it for dinner last night.

No camera please, no camera. Hahahahahahha.

Umbrage

2006-02-08T22:38:00.000+08:00

Rocking manor, glistening rain, running vehement insanity. Sheer audacity flip flopping my fraudulent cerebrum. Propelling lovely tyranny. This is contagious.

I want to dwell, well in congenial. Waltzing, dancing through challenges of vertical dusk. Supplications in bright.

For me, life is like a Johnny-jump-up. Evaporating ambitious hopes; reverberation and covetousness, turning reveries into wonders.

Bah.

The quirky bubbles after bubbles; myopic cowry shells and hermit crabs; and my frivolous soul. It’s a long way to heavenly heaven. Lunar Moon and a Pluto.

As the thunder asunder, I, at rest in ponder.

I am a rockstar.

And you, the actress of midnight dream.

Taggie Maggie - Thanks Tina!

2006-02-03T17:38:00.000+08:00

I, compounded by perpendicular daily disdain, benevolent me soul in heavenly traits. Encompassing the minority wandering moments, que sera, sera.

As the metal bird basking under perfidious shining glimmer, me, the psychosis in wits, with eyes in delirium, towards multihued azure sea with virgin mountains; and clouds in the sky.

Would a blowjob, that is singular and plural, be of your wishes? Scandinavian neighbours or bushy Japanese. He he he.

Nay, grapes vis-à-vis sound better. For this madmen is a faithful vegetarian “Saya don’t eat meat”.

Riiite.

Random delicious vista, it was not a gloomy day. Drizzles a bit, sunshine a plenty.

Three Junes and a coffee, mighty power within its ray. Dum di dum.

And yeah, steady as she goes. Swimming and dancing, in the soggy loneliness, irrigating water, lost hearts, wet and such. Cyborgs, robots, are the creature of allegory.

Prancing out in the blue, spectacular in the vision. Eternally in time.

After all, we are just human.

Dum Di Dum

2006-01-25T18:18:00.000+08:00

Fo·lie à deux

Cunning that you are, you have misled me. Deception is the game you play so well. The words you composed, the tune that you sang, distorted me. Intentionally, with or without, you tenderly led me by the nose as asses are.

What I believed to be true is not a lie, though not true. Mere fiction you have spoken to feign your intention. And I, the tiny silly fool, through a rose-tinted glass, made an error in judgement. But it is an error that I bask in. For I am too mystified by your presence and a willing participant in the game of beguilement you play so well.

Perhaps two can play the game.

- In Love, In Vain

*************************************

Sidekick

Ah, I see that some humans who graced the page here christened me “MiV’s sidekick”.

Hmph.

Let it be known, Hero Malaya shall never, NEVER be a sidekick to anyone. That vainly in love one might, but never, Hero Malaya. Even that one time at the band camp, where Robin thought it would be good for my cv to stand in for few hours (he had a date with Barbie who was only clad in a white bikini top and shorts) as Batman was on call - that midget excuse of a penguin man threatened to bomb City Hall yet again. I mean, really, hasn’t he learnt? The Good Guys always win.

It’s stipulated in our Comics and Superheroes Manual, volume III, Chapter XIXXX, Sub-chapter XX.III page 2872 para III:

The Good Guys always win.

I tell you, if I were that midget Penguin, I’d take the chill pill and a spot of teh tarik and go to Pulau Kapas instead.

But you see, that’s just me. I am, after all, a 6’ 5”metrosexual, very sensual, manly yet sensitive, macho yet caring man of the millennium with steels for buns and abs on top of an IQ of 203828 (That’s what it said during my last Mensa Test).

Also, Uncle Clark (Superman for you, normal mortals) already warned me if I will so much burn a matchstick after that fiasco at the gardener’s shed of the Incredibles’. To justify, I still believe that the small bonfire was not meant to be all that harmful if Jack-Jack had not buried some TNTs underneath the old college yearbooks.

So yes, with all my faults* - I am and will never be a sidekick. Especially to a wordsmith whose works rivals that of a 1119 English paper.

Teh tarik, anyone?

* I was told by the three angels - Blossom, Bubbles and Buttercups – who incidently make some really meaaaaan pasta y’all; that it is good for a superhero like me admit his faults once awhile. It makes me very “human” and hence, very marketable in the chickas market.

So any of you wants to give me their number? *wink*

- Hero Malaya, sayang kamu.

Rector

2006-01-12T13:38:00.000+08:00

2006. All my blood with this. Tick tock, tick tock. Madness year it would be. 2005 spelled calamity. Met new and wonderful friends via this blog. From Europe, America to Oceania and Asia.

To people who helped me through it, here is my fave poem, written by an author I still can’t recall.

Tanam lenggun tumbuh kelapa, terbit bunga pucuk mati
Budi tuan saya tak lupa, sudah terkandung di dalam hati.

Nonetheless, hear yee hear yee. Introducing the sans odious In Love In Vain and Hero Malaya, the opulent super suave errr hero as my new vigilant side kick.

In Love, In Vain is on a quest to make that one person fall in love with her. It doesn’t have to be the perfect love … only a little love from him.

And

Hero Malaya is a suave, handsome, charming, good looking, delicious, manly yet sensitive (you can add your own superlatives later) superhero currently residing in Malaysia where his job is to protect Malaysians against evil, i.e. traffic jams and queue jumpers.

Have fun guys, may God bless us all.

Toddle doo.

*******************************************

EROTA

It is a feeling, so deep and tender, so ineffable, that pervades me. An attachment of affection and solicitude. So deep the desire, so passionate the ardour.

So inherent is the emotion that it bowls me over. The simplicity of it all. The shine, the glimmer, the hope …. oh, it is easier to experience than to explain.

But the cruellest of all response came in the form of your looking away. Too unkind is the phrase I can only verbalise in here.

You broke me. Please mend me.

- In Love, In Vain

******************************************

I am, Hero Malaya.

And let it be known that Hero Malaya is mightily miffed to be told that Hero Malaya is no longer the most delectable, most available and agreeable Superhero in the Blog-dom. It’s bad enough that Hero Malaya must fight tooth and nails (and sometimes spandex underwears!) with all the other Superheroes (Superman sometimes wins but no more than 3 times) for some chicka-loving time in Superhero-dom, but with mere mortals?

Hero Malaya is most displeased.

So who is this Mad-vein guy who SOS-ed via broadcasting of my logo to the world (actually he sent me a YM message as Batman patented his logo-showing off lights display thing, the ungrateful wad)? He humbly requested the mighty presence of Hero Malaya to guest-write his blog. Why?

I mean, naturally, he has heard of Hero Malaya’s vast sexual prowess, charm and wit. Who hasn’t? Hero Malaya is thinking that this Mad-vein boy wants a little of that Hero Malaya charm to ooze through his lair that more bosom-heavy, sexy, sultry chickas will flood his blog.

What is that they say? Sex sells.

The things I have to do to make the world happy.

So ladies, flood away!

Lovely Vista

2005-12-27T14:38:00.000+08:00

Flicking through the dampened darkness of night, rowing indolent soul, blowing the repugnant vision. Repudiated morose. Dancing merrily, with scriptured verses of harrumph.

Misdemeanour of the heavens.

And the smell of lingering Burberry was charming divine, in this human mind.

*********************************

It was a simple spectacular event. The northern infantry arrived shortly after four. As the tryst begins, sheer sparkling sparkle, with arrangement made for a year. Trays were exchanged and I’m left with a smile.

As usual the questions were aplenty. The most revolting ones came from the beloved granddaddy. There is no way of escapism. Holding my hand firmly, and eloquent masters of ceremony beckoned;

“Kau tunjuuuuuuk aje yang mana, atuk pergi usahakan”

Yes atuk, I wish it is that easy.

Heh.

p/s : To all my uncles and aunties who had the most wicked laugh, no more duit raya for yewwww next Aidilfirtri. Hmmmmph.

Arcanum

2005-12-22T00:38:00.000+08:00

Oh well, Santa has been very very busy lately. Now, tell me your wishes.

Ho Ho Ho.

Malaysia Tanah Airku

2005-12-12T02:38:00.000+08:00

It was a quite pleasant jaywalking session I had; to back and forth Paya Lebar station. Neon lights flashing like a sproadic specious sinister. 3 Dolars beryiani dum. 60 cents Pokka Manggo Tea. Cheerio-cheerio inferno.

Gushing of breezy twist whirling on my sweaty palm, intermitten with a very lovely vista at The Muslim Converts' Association of Singapore.

Raining ablution. Profusion in confusion.

***************************************

Ah, to the land of Temasek. Boogieing my puny steps, encircling the atoll. Border sans border. MRTs after another. Bottles of mineral.

Almost exploding bladder.

One second romance. Two hours rooms. Three thundering slaughters.

Gerek seh.

Siesta Fiesta

2005-12-05T03:38:00.000+08:00

Prancing delicious niff swirling under the dampened nose. Full condensation beckoned. Lights blinking with drizzling drizzle. Cool smog soothed the night. A crustaceans delight. Chillies in might.

And a group of wicked ghouls and a cat who ate every single thing within sight.

Keh keh keh.

************************

As the kompangs thundering its sinister, so I was there, smiling like a 14 years old on her first ganja journey. It was a fête, which Malaccan are known for their hideous bantering. Dondang sayang, pantun, toll gate money. Heh. Sheer merriment moments.

The splendid fireworks roamed the night. Splashing sparkle of jubilant splendour. Illuminating the dimness. Chasing away malevolence fortitude.

Delirium is just a word human can fathom. The rest, i'll keep it in my cerebral soul.

***********************************

The atmosphere in La Bodega was like a flickering rainbow, plunged in concave ravine. Copiously indumenta the generic phantasm phantom. The familiar faces of lovely divine. Laughers are every where. Strings of rhymes, mesmerising the ears.

Smoke it like chimes, happiness is not a crime.

Mesmerise Sins

2005-11-23T02:38:00.000+08:00

Elucidation in profusion, this sanity minding what your desire. Of a good breeding, she would brawl come what may, morbid archangel, Helen of Troy. Soothing forlorn Amazon, soothing my soul. It’s a labyrinth in life. Condensed with tutelary deity of heaven.

In this demented world, mirror doesn’t always reflects the truth. Hues of lights. Rays of harrumph. Not a shattered dream. Family values, orphanages, parishioners are the playing fields. Quintessence of kind essences.

You, the actress of midnight dreams and you, an epitome of all things beautiful.

**************************************

Dear God, the waiting is almost over. As I bask in sweet halvah nirvana, forgive the souls that bleed, bless thy souls good deed.

Euphonious

2005-11-18T01:38:00.000+08:00

Hello there. The universe is hymning its galore. Ardent ardour in the capricious soul, of yours truly. Frolicking in the vacuum empire, paradiso of myth. Background of eerily morgue. Wondering wanderer, whispering in the occipital lobe of heavenly nightingale.

Pandemonium vis a vis ejective. Haunting dispossession of supremacy. Scarcity of trust. Entwined with miracles of God given. As I ponder about the sight of blatant yore, quietus of phantasmal chronicle zigzagging, dancing merrily. Belligerati this piece is not. Only, tomorrow, would leads the way.

Dextrous nihilist. A light shining through. Pompous screening white layer. Flickers of ever ever sincerity. I fathomed that dream is a weaving hope, corrugated from warren of permute darkness valley.

And you are the enchanting star of my cosmos.

******************

Last night my beloved mum came to the office, accompanied by her home cooked meal. As I hold her wrinkled hands to bid good bye, this spectre on yesteryear grabbed my frivolous mind. Rendering my heart, exhausting my soul.

Even though its nothing of much, the was the best dinner ever. Of course when you are a dark hell hungry bunny, even a sprocket would happily fit your stomach. Something I’m used with. A dim light glowing, with a breezy breeze caressing the dark, I sat in silence.

Thank you mama, for the world so sweet. Thank you mama, for the food, I eat.

***********************************

Kirana is the name of my future adopted daughter. Pebble eyes, perfect dimple, glowing skin, heavenly beautiful. Live will treat you good, that’s my pledge to you sunshine. Even it means I have to drain my blood, to make you the divine princess, castle in the sky. As I was strolling over with her tucked behind my back, I came across many unknown strangers, with the standard ooooh and aaaaah. Babies, they are said to toil magic.

“Where is the mum?” asked them. Silent prayers. Palpitating pupils. It poured like the flecked rainbow after storms and freezing drizzles.

Look into my eyes and listen to my adore.

She, is in my heart.

Astro

2005-11-11T12:48:00.000+08:00

Superfluous are in galore, aplenty, myriads in heaven of deceits. Life would never be identical. Every single breath is sooooooo full of disdain. Yesterday there was a kid in the corner. Yesterday it was all, all over.

When its time to pamper in silence, perhaps a shredded memories is a all I have. Dappled after dappled of chanting misery sans bright and breezy testament lurking in the corner of figment soul. Illuminating on the milky way. Maybe there is a light at the end of the tunnel, but the journey will be full of pain, vice versa.

Or perhaps its only a trolling phantasm?

Time to recoup my soul, I reckoned. We’ll see where it goes. For a while. Or forever.

Tata.

Cantillate Lullaby

2005-11-07T05:38:00.000+08:00

The scent of wintry on Hari Raya eve was et all, fun. Entreating jovial notion of all beloved soul. Vibrant. Poignant. Sallow. Hollow. Fathomable for fervour fabrication. Pulsation of booming voices were ubiquitously propounded. Sporadic, like the blistering warmth of my lonely desert. Is human gluttony equals to empathy?

Indolent vista. Effervescence inertia. It was not of a celebration nor a coruscate.

And even if it’s not of our dreams, you have always believed in me.*

*********************************

Sprinkling stars were concealing its gallantry, wedged in pompous niftily, dextrously condensed, elapsing testament moment. Baroness of feral dream. Intermittent. Blustery. Temperance. Billows of lunacy had its own time. Agilely swirling, gyrating unto it’s own pinnacle.

Our lines entwined like no tomorrow. Perpetual. Corollary meandering in my deity labyrinth. Coagulated with sweetness of memories. Mystifying the mystical. Dreams are the only thing that keeps me going.

I know my world is so cold and flat, and you deserve more than that.*

*Home - Buble

Bravura

2005-10-31T06:18:00.000+08:00

Jubilant ray san perfidious allusion, an endeavour of condescension no longer in exultation. Despondency, euphoria, denseness madness. An ornate eccentric Anaheim of the Orient. Chant to me, did the cool autumn breeze flounce of your lonesome essences?

Sacrilegious. Besmirch. You, doesn’t fits it all. Enthral. Beguile concaved the maze of contentious. With a florid brilliant style you captivates me. The whimsical tang of your oracle tresses is tres heavenly.

And you are in my capricious superlative reveries, in all the poignant moment, in all the virtuoso time.

I'm off for cuti Hari Raya. Tata.

Et Sequentia

2005-10-28T04:38:00.000+08:00

Splintered densest, trolling sanity, we paraded the elation of lunacy. Clouds of perplexed impudence are the merriments moment. Darkens the celibacy. Move to the fore, or in between. My sagacity tells me the skirmish is almost over. For me, an ex x-men repartee is a yodeling sculpts of yore. Show me your valor, I’ll show you my colourful pallor.

Lullaby nightingale is a magical aluminiferous knight. You, me, dancing blithely under the gazing starlights.

And ask your heart and tell me the truth, while we’ll bask beneath the cenotaph rainbow of all things might.

To all my blogger friends, should I offended you in any way, please accept my sincerest apology.

Selamat Hari Raya. Maaf Zahir Batin.

Virgin Viremia

2005-10-26T13:38:00.000+08:00

Trampling under perfidious smile, articulated thought of what your valour. I will keep on, scampering, in absent.

The poignant moment will come. Perspire with desire, fire is inspire.

We’ll see. We’ll see.

Troubadour

2005-10-24T02:38:00.001+08:00

Delirium has its inane denotation. Trivium is it not. Scruples of me are not palsy-walsy. I love you. Black arts, white noise. They say nocturnes are rays of first heaven. Sipping through my parsec of honest and lonely dawn.

At times, I’m lost on my own specter of lunatic labyrinth.

And thank you, for you are the radiance of my illusory trompe l’oeil, and thank you for bright shining stars, of my darkness.

Endemic Pandemic

2005-10-20T01:38:00.000+08:00

My heart is dancing in ecstasy, merriment moments, maze of twinkle. Continuously chanting impervious notion. I’ve found you. Galactic vacuum of sans empty space residing in my heart. Lowing the earth and shading the stars. Draining the impetus memories of melancholy. Brazing my blasé pandemic I’ve gathered, the end is almost here.

You are the facts lady, I’m the fictions madman. Heh.

And I am an ex x-men, when are you healing my terrain of sorrow?

Vertumnus + Yela..Rinduuuuu

2005-10-17T01:38:00.000+08:00

Consecrated by a virulent sparkler, my life is a dreamy fantasy of dazzling luminary, illuminating my complexity cosmos. I’ll chant my sacred prayers under the winter rain. Not, an anthology of mortifies passage.

Weltschmerz is a rendering chronicle syndrome of yore. Blowing the might euphemism of stanzas. Flowing quietly, stirring the fountain of your soul, in perpetuity, in serenity.

Breathe it softly archangel, while I’m in eminence, while I’m drawn in constellation of love, enthralled, by immortal finery of your beautiful essences. Smile. Gaze deeply into my eyes and listen. Love, life is so full of deceit.Infinity is a just a numeral, impossible is discernible, nothing would change my adore, to you.

Let me hold you tight, we will melt into wonder. I keep on praying for you. Now tell me, did the wintry zephyr from my privy poetry, swept away your lonely universe?

And I miss you, even when you are here, by my side.

Como Mí Una Pregunta

2005-10-12T01:18:00.000+08:00

Hmm… a few lovely things happened to me lately. The gists of it? I’ll keep it deep inside my heart.

And bersempena bulan Ramadhan ini, I’m being generous. Ask me any question you like. (Shut up drogba).

Except, mathematical questions, of course. Kekekekeke.

Come on nigga.

Shoot.

Seven Sins

2005-10-10T14:38:00.000+08:00

Two of the most horniest Malay ladies a.k.a Viva and Shell tagged me. Ok add in Muddy, but he is not a lady, but i'm sure he is horny too (like me). I was threatened with a castration if I don’t adhere to their lust.. err no, requests.

So, please forgive me dear God.

Here goes.

7 things to do before I die
1. Get married at least once.. keh keh keh..
2. Settled down in a country surrounded with great friends and loving family.
3. Paragliding, buggy jumping, parachuting and/or Hand gliding at least once.
4. Adopt or having at least 2 kids.
5. Visit Pyramids (soon..!), Ancient Maya city, Guatemala and Great Wall of China.
6. Mastering Deutsch and/or Thai language.
7. Have a getaway abode near a beach. (Preferably in Spain, Thailand or good ol Malaysia)

Eh wait, those are Shell’s!. Hahahhahahahaha. Ok, below are mine.

7 things to do before I die
1. Performing my Haj.
2. Get married and have kids. Not married? I’ll adopt a baby, or two. And give them the best they can get.
3. Becoming a millionaire. Soon. He he he.
4. Backpacking across the globe in six months.
5. Have my own philanthropist foundation. I’ll name it with a combo of my mum and wife name.
6. Have my own retreat house, on a high hill or seaside. And a yacht to compliment.
7. Foursome. Swedish satu, Japanese satu, Brazilian satu. Wah, sungguh bercita-cita tinggi. Hahahahahaha.

7 things I cannot do.
1. Mathematics. Add Math. Statistics etc etc. Yea yea, laugh you may. This is an honest confession.
2. Mathematics with Angelina Jolie. (She likes to use my err..calculator)
3. Mathematics with Beyonce Knowles (Can you concentrate when she started shaking her booty?)
4. Play saxophone. But I can blow you ladies. Anytime.
5. Menjelma menjadi tengiling. No one can. Enough said.
6. Gerudi Inul.
7. Becoming a Mathematics teacher.

7 things that attract me to the opposite sex – Traits in my future wife
1. Brain
2. Beauty (This is to the eyes of the beholder, I might find her beautiful, you may not)
3. Speaks fluent English and another one apart from mother tongue (Tactical move to enhance my cursing words database)
4. Honest and Trustworthy. Love my mum like she loves hers.
5. Independent
6. A good cook (But this is a skill, meaning it can be learned)
7. Humble

7 things I say most often
1. Biiiiitch.
2. Aaaaaa?
3. Nigga please!
4. Rock on.
5. Wicked.
6. Ahaaaa
7. Mari kita berdangdut!

7 Celebrity crushes (Set aside the ones up there with the mathematics thingy, ok ok, I admit, the list goes to hundreds)
1. My future wife. She is a celebrity of my heart all right.
2. Kelly Brook (Ah, that brits accent. Yeah, only accent eh? Riiite)
3. Cikgu Sarimah Dam Dum Motobot (My Form Four Principal of Accounts teacher. She is very sedaps and berkrim.)
4. Lauren Graham (Lorelai Gilmore is sooo uuuuhh)
5. Audrey Hepburn. (me love you long long time)
6. Gwen Stefani (God, have mercy on us)
7. Darcy Wretzky (Ex bassist Smashing Pumpkins . Baby, love me like you love your bass)

7 people I want to do this

Don’t get me started the mass tagging again, how about some volunteers?

Tabula Rasa

2005-10-03T02:38:00.000+08:00

Hallowing saturnine voyaging my impious mind, sacrilege is my impudent notion. An opus of condescension wallowing the alcove and cranny in me. Supercilious. Life is like a shrine mottled rainbow, it’s how you look the gist of everything. Intermittent, entwine. Inside, outside. Crème, noir and hasten. I’m the sentinel of essences.

Can I take a trip to your heart ? Liberty has its scent. Welcome to the labyrinth of my imagination. To explore your soul; archangel.

Let me whisper it to your ears. Whilst we’re basking under the mystified sporadic stars, in the elation of love.

You and me.

Eternity.

et al : Selamat Menyambut Ramadhan Al Mubarak!

Fervent Infatuation

2005-09-28T01:38:00.002+08:00

"So, i love you because all the entire universe conspired to help me find you."

The Alchemist. Page 123.

I've been saving this line for you. Perhaps, you want to know that, my love.

Sanctuary of Elucidations

2005-09-26T05:38:00.000+08:00

Nocturnally inclined, spading densest, impervious eccentric castle laying inert, unfathomably deep in the labyrinth of white noise, or black. Arch in the sky. Lolloping dire in desire. Spurious mavericks, dancing dancers, my heart is all with her. Merriment of joy, morphemic of flecked colourful multihued array, platters of snow. You are always in my mind. Superficial of digress, recalcitrance is at rest.

Gaiety, deity, divinity. Mystifying the mystics. Chastise me. Take my breath away. An orb of everything eternity. Let's celebrate Halloween, on Christmas. Disdain is a chronicle of yore. Love is a pandemic. Twisted the way i want to be. An opus created to blind your heart, and your sane psyche.

Garrulous equals to fiction; fiction is a concentric bands of spectrum. Transitory through the ephemeral veins of inanity, and naivety. Insomnia mirrored by voice of treason. You made me melt into wonder. Superfluous flowing away in the gallows of glooming lovable. Stunning lights, shining stars, blinking rays, unspoken bliss. Mirage. San evaporated when I’m dreaming of your face.

Universe was dancing on the day I met you. You are like sugary candy to my soul. Illusion is a chimera of intermittent sacrilegious notions. Phantasm in yours truly. The truth is veiled in my heart. Bolted far far away, in the never-neverland. And you are the angel queen of my cosmos.

And on the day i put that halo of love on your finger, you will be mine, eternally.

Vice Versa

2005-09-22T03:38:00.000+08:00

Notion, intention, wish, niat. Somehow it’s laden with such ambiguous travesty. I beg to differ. I'm a person who doesn’t like to waste things up. Not parsimonious but the way I was brought up, due to scarce argent, I will usually complete my meals/drinks until to the last drop. Licin.

But today I’ve decided to let away a big reserve of sugar deposit. Standard procedure of life. You win some, you lose some. These ants were covering every nook and cranny of the flask. Wah, ceria nampak? And I told them, “Well ants, this must be your family lucky day, I think you will have enough supplies until next year”.

Rumours say they are planning to have a week full of all night long orgy parties, perhaps I should have a peek at it. Hohohohohohohohoooo.

What's Left in Malaysia Anyway? Sweet Memories?

2005-09-19T03:38:00.000+08:00

Luminous lights, unblemished rays, glowing glimmers at the ingress of rapture, elucidates the noir hasten in desire. I palpated lines after lines san ignoramus magnetos. I rendered the nomograms of heart. Thawing every solitary psyche, imperil chaste of sparkling personae. Over again, I’m misplaced by sanguinity brightened stars of the celestial milky way.

Conceivably, I reckoned by the tributary of Thames, is where my soul does belong.

Mental Garrote

2005-09-15T05:38:00.000+08:00

MiV ini hari tak ada, malam tadi dia makan julap banyak.

Pecah kaca pecah kaca gelas, sudah baca harap balas.

See you next week. Muahss.

Bubonic Merriments

2005-09-13T03:28:00.000+08:00

Frivolous, cantankerous, specious, sacrilegious, all these are an associate of ostentatious perilous glibness. Dazzling elations elated the folly of quivering cynical acetum; constipated choking funnel, she is everywhere. My love, zigzagging melancholy would never be weaken away, not until you philosophical your warren of soul, and the perpetuity.

Clouted by glimmering thoughts; I reckon it’s a creeping method from the casement of eerie darkness. And forlorn is abetting.

Misbegotten sanctify the purify sparkler, of yours truly. Your heavenly hair, your sans perfidious smile, your silky encrusted lips, now tell me, why did heaven send you?

For Aristotle, hope is an awakening dream. For me you are my dream, my heart and my soul.

And you are the epicentre of my love universe.

Ich habe dich sehr lieb

2005-09-08T12:35:00.000+08:00

Persona significant derision moi feeble generic notion, I discern the heart is at present for her. Spasm of rhetoric paresis geminating chronicles of prisma butterfly, marauding dimness of darkness in the psycho psyche. Essences in me are lost and found. Gnawing empiric numbness of shoddily conked mind.

Purity is at the best of the purest numeral. For me, numeral is a figure space of stanzas in rhymes. For you, rhymes is all specter of this entry.

And schatz, do tell your heart the truth, I’ve been dreaming about you all the time.

Herzlichen Glückwünsche zum deinen Geburtstag.

This is The End, This is The Beginning

2005-09-05T03:38:00.000+08:00

Stagnant reminiscences platted the guanine muser on my superfluous soul. 20 years of figure logics engendered my multihued corridor of the yesteryears. Life has never been easy, for me. This is not a tirade of self audacity nor denunciation. An anecdote paltered with desire to inspire. Memories are meant to be remembered, not to be delved upon. The pandemic of yore. Mêlées are fought and mêlées are lost and won. Belligerent is in the imperial derivation. And I will keep on fighting. For He is Oft Merciful, Oft Forgiving. Amen.

Thanks Muddy, for your kind graciousness. And the story begins.

20 Years Ago, 1985 – I was 10

I came from a poor and broken family. Beloved only standard three educated Mom and Engineer Dad divorced twice, once when I was 8 and another when I was 11. With not a penny from Engineer Dad, playing fields of most pasar malam, helping my uncle selling of everything ulam, morning with my mum selling nasi lemak, have been the main rezeki for me and family.

While waiting for customers to buy our produits du jour, I will read everything available, back to back, from mostly old English newspapers used as the wrappers, URTVs to Mein Kampf which was found in between the stacks of the old newspapers. Ok, I admit. I read dictionary too.

Fought fiercely with Paat at my kampong’s surau, blood squirted, which leaved me with a still visible-until-now mark on my nose. The reason? He called me “Anak tak ada bapak”. Celaka kau Paat. On that year, I am already an expert in selecting the freshest fish, freshest meat and the freshest green. Not to mention bargaining skills with all the towkays of the said sellers.

Best friends were Harisson Sanjay, Raymond Punithan and Lim Boon Seng where four of us would run ourselves to this trailer of Perbadanan Perpustakaan Selangor to borrow books. Orang miskinlah, family no money to buy me books. Education? Suffice to say, I was on the stage every year since standard one.

10 Years Ago, 1995 – I was 20

Dumbstruck by my STPM results (which I have to begged for entry since my SPM was very koyak), I worked as a store clerk with a scanty salary of RM500 and moonlighting loading barrels of chemical to be exported into 40 footers containers (very good money). Bloody tough job. I looked like an Indonesian/Bangladeshi/Nepalese/Myammar immigrant and I can operate any type of lorry and forklift. Bring in on baby. Hehehe.

Nightlifes were spent boozing around in HRC, 11 LA etc and dingy snooker parlour at my kampong. Ehem, I was only allowed to play snooker with one hand. Was locked-up for four days without any interrogations or anything. Traumatic experience I must say.

Mid of the year, with an application which I don’t give a damning damn to local university submitted by my auntie, I was called for the interview. Armed with everything borrowed from friends, long sleeve, pants, belt, and a pair of shoe. Mine was only my underwear and a pair of stoking sebelah lain sebelah lain, with a hole popping my toe. Accompanied by a very fierce storm that made me soaked until my spender, I braved myself with prayers from my beloved mum. Mama, saya sayang mama.

While in the lift, I was “accidentally” scolded for using the lift for “pensyarah dan kakitangan” by this one suave old man. The suave old man turned out to be the one of the panel who interviewed me and he is the DEAN of the Faculty! Got whacked kaw kaw in the interview’s room for my STPM results. Thanks to my readings when I was a kid, my England is a bit ok la. Managed to weaved a few of magical replies.

And a month after that, on a very blessed day, I saw my mum crying, holding the letter of admission to the university. Alhamdulillah, that was the turning point, of my life.

5 Years Ago, 2000 – I was 25

Uni days were actually the best time in my life. I have had a lot of fun. I refused to receive any type of scholarship or financial assistance because I believed if I took the offers, I might be denying the more deserving people, i.e anak-anak orang yang lebih kurang berkemampuan. Don’t call me snobbish, please. I’ve been there and I know how its feels. What we have during that time was enough to sustain my studies, even though that means I have to think twice before I spend a penny and I have to help my mum selling nasi lemak, 6 am in front of a factory on every semester break. The spiritual journey began this year. This is the year when I started my daily solat, 5 times a day, puasa sunat and such.

Internship in Istanbul, madly in love with my then girlfriend, offered a job as the producer producing one of the old kids tv shows after only two weeks of my final exam, graduated with the best student badge. My mum once told me, no matter how high you fly, remember who you were before, that will keep your feet firm on the ground. Again, thanks mama for all your sacrifices and thank you God, for all Your blessing.

3 Years Ago, 2002 – I was 27

While working on my third job, I did my Masters on a part time basis. Was offered to do my Masters and PHD in UK but I turned it out because its time to pay back my beloved mum, to take care of her. My classes started at 6pm everyday and ended at 10pm. Saturdays and Sundays were spent in either library or cyber cafes; I don’t even have a bloody computer. I was in that situation for two years.

I have had a dream, to be a PHD holder or to own my own company by the age of 30. And I choose the latter. Tendered my resignation and my hard earn albeit small company was born on 19 August 2002. We started with only a phone fax machine which I still use until now. It was very very difficult at the beginning. My office was in my small rented room whom I shared with Itam, a male stray cat that I took from the garbage deposit place, at the ground floor of the apartment.

Itam is a very brilliant cat, every morning he will follow me out, get on the lift and once the door opened, we parted ways. He is gone to mengorat Melissa, the beautiful Persian cat living at the next block. I guess he is full of confident back then. Yeah, from living in a dump to a change diet of only IAMS, nice litter place, and sleeping on the shared thin mattress with me. Talk about a boosting morale eh?

Juggling between final thesis, working part time and my company, at times I’ve had a breakdown or two. My ex-girlfriend was always there for me. Thanks love, all of these are for us and our beloved family. The first six months were spent in my car, cyber cafes for my proposals and such. Since the distances between my tiny office and clients place was a bit far, as a tactical cost saving measures, in between meetings I will sit myself quietly in Masjid Wilayah, reading, writing, solat and at times, a nap or two.

After six months, with all the profits pumped back into the company and kind help from my then ex-partners, we moved into this small office space where currently I am typing this entry, located at the edge of Kuala Lumpur. And I graduated with flying colours for my Masters. Alhamdulillah.

Last Year, 2004 – I was 29

Alhamdulillah, the business was good. We have managed to secured a few public listed clients which we still enjoy good business relationship until now. From a one man show, we transformed to a small work force of 6, with people working with me are the familiar faces you see on TV. On our first year of operation, we had two proposals of take over, one from a public listed company and another from a royal family. Family wise, I moved my beloved mum and my siblings to this modest double story house. Providing them opportunity of sleeping in their own bedroom. We don’t have such luxury before and even now, we don't have much luxury either. On that year too, I managed to send my mum and my ex-girlfriend together, on Ramadhan to do their umrah. Alhamdulillah

Disaster struck on December, my ex-girlfriend left me on that month. I was left in a lurch. But no, never once I blame her. Pergilah sayang, if that would make you happy.

This Year, 2005 – I am 30

The repercussions of the separation has taken me deep in my misery. I’ve lost my two cars, mum beloved mum’s car, the house we have as a gift from my Engineer Dad, my FD, OD, all my savings, name it.

I almost lost the house that my mum and siblings still living right now, and I almost lost my hard earn company too. At one moment, I am determined to sell the company and move myself to London. Running away from bad memoirs of yesteryear. What’s left in Malaysia anyway? Sweet memories? I was at a brink of losing my insanity. Past few months has seen the situation gradually getting better and better. Alhamdulillah

All is not over yet, I am still fighting. Blog whorring and blogging has make me meeting lovely and kindhearted new friends, some i've met, some i've not, you know who you are. I am more relax now, even though I am an office freak who will be in my small office from Monday to Sunday and public holidays to even Hari Raya. Working my butts out, up to wee hours everyday.

Next Year, 2006 10 Years from Now, 2015 – I will be 31 and 40.

I dare not to portray what will happen in the future for I can only pray, plan and work my ass out towards it. And i am an ex x-men, i'll heal my own sorrow.

But one thing for sure dear God, I admit, I am not a saint, test me with anything You may, for I will never forget You.

Thank you for your kind time, may God bless all of you. Next stop i'm tagging Shell (buat lagi sekali, Pfftt) , Lekker Ding, Scrubber, Maya, KepalaAngin, Chics, ThinktTankGirl, Cherry Bakewell, Miss_YY, Inn, RaksaksaBiskut, Babe, Leen Ash Burn, Pojan, Sheryl_Alexis, Sooz, Scribblebangle, Dina, MzMin, Sports Freak, Vlad, Fade and all who have commented on my humble blog. Spread the lurrrve babeh– Madnessinvain

Lovely Lovable

2005-09-01T03:38:00.000+08:00

Spurning fervent amen in the mind, rappelled by the sanguine beauty of the innocent, I am witch crafted by the astounding tale of a lovely lady friend. The elucidation of bliss are everywhere. Life is an absolute. Aurora of heavenly tang is not a phantasm in this madly-in-love couple’s soul. Bless thee the gift from the All Mighty. You complete each other.

And I am, very very proud with both of you.

***************

Tramping superfluity of predilection, portentous lights are in galore. Lolloping adventitious amore in me. Treacherous medium are in the air. Disdain endeavor of unambiguous innuendoes, reminiscing the passage of evil knievel. Mind you, swirling luscious is not the focal prerogative. Gloomy sky is the fable of yore. I’ll swap anything in this universe, just to see that pious smile, in you, again.

And let me be the star of your darkness.

Ruthless Indulgent

2005-08-25T03:38:00.000+08:00

Appended by feasible reasons, abstained by au natural ersatz of subliminal virgin thoughts, I am left behind, with infinite feast of not to fall, in love, again. Deceit has its own new sustenance. Masticating ominous of putrid gluts. Intonated. Introverted. Intoxicated. Valor after valor of sans saints lovable fomentation, dolling over my cuss inertia. Subservience hallucinating of the crème de la crème blood in the veins. She is one hell of the hoi polloi lady.

****************

Effete wisdoms are cavorting dubious grasp in my ever feeble world. Commonsensical prelude is the so called of all I ever needed. Yeah, prudent equals decree of the fucking fuck. We are the cynical cohorts of our own Florence nightingale. Contentious. Quivering the basic lingua of soul wishes. They say the colourful rainbow is the shell of sheer gratifications.

And I’d say “How could you be in hell, when you are in my heart?”

Wonder-full

2005-08-23T01:38:00.000+08:00

If I can tally the sporadic flickering lights in backpacking paradise of Khao San Road, I think I’ll lose my scrupulous sane mind. Mild, flashing neon bulb intermittent with horrendous lunacy. Lip lap, lip lap, lip lap. Fondly known as KSR, it’s the place where you get your hair beads up, henna tattoos, massages and of course, roasted pork. Scandinavians, Japs, Jews, Brits, Swiss, French, Americans and all sorts of nations blended sanctimoniously, beneath the sacred forename of traveling travelers.

After sunset, say around eight pm, the whole KSR will be closed from passing by traffics, and the circus begins. Herds and herds of inhabitants thronging along the road, carousing and such. Pubs and discos are countless, flip a coin or whatever. But mind you, entering any deafening maiden pub will encountered you with a mandatory body frisking. Heheh. Yes cik adik manis, rabalah tubuhku yang seksi yinneyyyy.

Now, its the hub of this entry. After 12am, most of the shops selling shirts and all will be closed. And this is when the real party begins. Faggots are a plenty, and kekejian mereka itewww is such an eye opening experience. Set aside from that, there will be also these illegal street peddlers who sell trinkets, jewelries, shits and stuff. It's Thailand baby, anything goes. I make friends with these people. Lepaking with them, and even up to the extent of selling for them, especially to the farangs, since their England is a bit limited. No, I didn’t get anything, sukarela-lah.

But hell break loose when the police or akin to DBKL make a surprise visit. In split seconds, the pavement will be cleaned of such activities. Just wrap your belongings and put it aside as long as it is not disturbing the pavements. It was soo much fun. Even the makcik who sells jagung bakar pun acted like nothing happened. Steady la makcik. The business resumes as usual once the authorities are gone. And the carnival sessions repeat itself once the man in uniforms make their rounds again. Bloody hell. Me like long long time.

Its about 5am when this fiesta reached its end. Revelers from pops and pubs are making their way to bunk their heads, thawing with illuminations of Chang Beer and such, towing together with bombshells that promised you all morning of shaking beds experience. Yaayyy!!!...for them.

Life is indeed fun, when you know how hard it works, kapish?

Love

2005-08-18T14:38:00.000+08:00

Love, sunshine has been gleaming its mighty glimmer. The pandemic of yore is no longer in my heart. I am, no longer, bleeding. Sparkling like a novel born baby, colourful multihued aurora deleted the phantasm of your noir gloomy shadow. A figment of sanguinity is all I have. Detriment sans bright shining stars is no longer in my spurious castle in the sky. Remorseful for all sundry god given. I’ve been to the unfathomable hollow, now I am fighting to stand. And I will live, gloriously.

Love, these bubonic of merriment moments are rather, tick tocking on my frivolous mind. Calcifying I am not. Purification is human translation for zest. Zing of breeze pushed me forward. Tacit love demented soul. Amalgamated by pure saint of joy. Of all things beautiful.

Sayang, hold my hands, and let me hold your heart. We’ll dance through these clouds of myriad faint stars.

And I will love you forever.

Enraptured, Inner Beauty

2005-08-16T03:38:00.000+08:00

Copiously, an infidel corporeally is like a troupe of corpulent heartrending sheer folly. Being not is more, chanted them. Blasphemous thee psyche, belligerent understanding pricks that just follow, shoveling ass shoveler, an aficionado of his poetic jittery phantasms, having halvah for lunch, sashaying stanzas of feast. Blood, noir and cerulean are the colours of darkness, parasitical like haze colon choking on your nasal. Spartan fueled by paroxysm and rhetoric. Brouhaha.

Zealots purport, having faith in blindly is not good for thee heretical soul, as He is Oft Merciful, Oft Forgiving.

********************

Miraculously, strain of impetus devotion smiling piously to me. Ablating vaguely of pertinent matters. Rowing of nolens volens questions. Ratifying indolent memories. Yearning yours truly fantasy. Mystifying the mystical. Emancipation eradicates my misery. Inanity is all over. Narrating the cantus firmus. Nomenklatura is firmament.

Lovely.

Poignant is Merrily

2005-08-12T04:38:00.000+08:00

Ricochet of jovial lunacy emitting ad infinitum from my zing, prancing verses after verses of lurid carcass, colouring contents of colourful rainbow. Entwine like magic palter. I am dumbstruck. Dandelions are roaming freely. Gushing by the fresh zephyr of the lovely summer. Magnifying memento transcending ignorant and sacrilegious euphoric meditation. Imperia of impertinent are the story of vertigo. Like a pandemic of yore, I am no longer in desolation, for I am an ex x-men, I’ll heal my own sorrow.

********************************

Vehement inanity is actually a pique of the apparition in yours truly distention. White is black, and black is white. Subterfuge is the conscience of Harry Houdini. Misery can be addictive, or it has molded precedence. A persona non grata. Bland is the favourite tang. As I am emanating under the holy shadow of darkness, gazing at the ruins of my empire, trolling temple, the toast of harum-scarum, I realise, I am a free essence. Dancing alone, on the milky way.

A wandering wanderer of my soul, i am the traveling traveler of your heart.

Because You were My Heart, You were My Soul

2005-08-10T00:28:00.000+08:00

Sea breeze in Lamai was, graceful and mindless, something to breathe your last breath for. The blue cobalt sphere was gleaming marvelously, compounded by white virgin powdery beach. I am a dreamily psyche, of things happening in my life, valid copiously. Creating a mirage of human façade, exasperating mind-blowing phantom, opera on the stage, and we are the actors.

She was soothingly adorable, tanning her nicely arched body, like a carnival under the flicker of tropical sun, wobbling a pair of faultless tits, yeah, you read it perfectly, breast, boobs, twins, buah dada, nenen, whatever. Pluto in my head. As our eyes gazed together, she smiled and in prodigious seconds, voila, she was standing in front of me. “You alone?” And I am intermittently blinking, non-stop. And blink, and blink, and blink.

**********************

Of a mix Vietnamese-German parentage, Eva is one hot mama, silky shining long black hair, with a career as a stewardess in one of those German carriers; she was on holiday with her son. A gorsy curse for me, she smelled like a flower, stoning my heart, paralyzing my soul. As I danced my lyrical lyrics, she was clearly amazed with my maze story of yore, hawking, gawking, flinging, I am the king.

One final killer line sputtered from that lovely pouted lip was. “My boyfriend will be taking my son to Chaweng tonight; im not going…”.

"Dear God, test me with what you may, not with a germane German/Scandinavian/Japanese complete with a ludicrously perfect twins."

And no, i didn't do it.

Losing My Virginity

2005-08-08T08:38:00.000+08:00

You might vomit blood after reading this entry but frankly my dear, I don’t give a damning damn.

I don’t know where to start. Yodeling sounds of impurity. My fizz and effete is no longer in grasp. Magical insanity has sets its ostentatious smile, but not me. I am still draining, impeding nocturnal mortal, waiting for hell morphing to heavenly.

“What’s about virginity?” asked your sanctimonious heart. Why is it so mighty imperative? Now don’t get too obtuse. I am a practicing Muslim, only my view is a bit way liberal. I’m not encoring adultery here. So you better read circumspectly and not run, as assumptions are the mother of all fucked up. I’m writing this piece of blasé, not for you, my honourable blog friends. It's for me, entrain declarations for my prospect adore.

To you, my future wife, I don’t care should virginity is no longer in your conception. I will face it with brawn, like a brass forager belching on the capitalist arm. I love you, and I will ask for your hands, for who you are, not for what times of yore have impacted you, force majure or not.

To you, the sovereign winds of my cosmos, no, I won't blame you should life did not consecrate us with a smile of the little one, because you are the baby in my heart. Empiric persona of pure sparkler. Sanctify me with your boundless love, and I will surrender all the things I have in this world.

"And i love you because all the entire universe conspired to help me find you" - The Alchemist

Imprudently Inclined

2005-08-03T15:38:00.000+08:00

At dawn this morning, after weeks and weeks of trolling hallucination, I woke up with an impious smile. Infusion of all good deeds, maddeningly lovable in my mind. Agilely, im blown out by the proposition, the basic tenets of youth. Rowing my dogma in the different personas of spurious sinister. A stigma of plain and colourful. Bare and stripes. Hazy in the pack. Deep deep inside the miraculous gale lantern of the lighthouse, far far away in the never never land. Shredding the last forte of my quill. I am tortuous. Infatuation of love. Period.

***********************

The phantom of torment and dreamland, emerge, rather in the constitution not audible for us. Auspiciously endeavored in the line of incognito poignant. Blend and bland. We live in our own frolicsome heaven, we live in our own tetchy hell. Subconscious of the luscious. The direction of this unhappiness undoable sustained the substance. Its an easy virtue to fathom. For me, clown is the saddest human in the universe. We shall make do with what we have, let live and don’t let die.

"Maybe we'll live and learn , Maybe we'll crash and burn" – Ordinary People : John Legend.

And I Shall Remember Your Kind Gestures

2005-08-02T04:38:00.000+08:00

Guys, madnessinvain is having a terrible terrible flu and demam right now. He better lay down for a while. And among his cranky wish list are telur penyu, tarian rama-rama and Dian Sastrowidoyo. Ishh...ngegader.

Yaayyy!!!

2005-07-29T17:24:00.000+08:00

Hello Lovely, did you, dream of me last night?

There you were, encircling the breeze, roaming freely in rapture, sight-seer, in my arms. I did not foretaste a single second, gazing at your stunning, face. Clean and calm, wandering days of ablutions and virgin mary. Cocktail, mocktail. The pellagra of virtue.

Dear God, I thank you for all you have privileged me with, for that I will never disobey You.

Harrumph!

***********************

This garret of lunacy won't let me free. Like a flock of gannet in the Atlantic, accompanied by Lisa Marie’s father melody. And Tom Jones, "You don’t have to be rich to be my girl, you don’t have to be cool to rule my world”. Hah! Pestering soul I am, lightning desire nonchalantly, quivering thought that you’ve been reading. Nightingale of presumptuous.

Next stop, ponderous place of heaven, but do you think i’ll get into it without tasting the embezzlement of hell? May i rest in peace, may i rest in hell.

Tak pa, masuk neraka cari pengalaman. Oui?

Madnessinvain has been bombarded with few hours of sleep, burning midnight oils since Monday. What he needs now is to do something else than work. Wanna make babies? Raise your hand, please.

Because We are Ordinary People

2005-07-27T16:02:00.000+08:00

Blog world is a very outlandish place. It’s a dream weaver. Not a shilly-shally. Effervescence I must admit. Sparkling like the fireworks on new year night. Minding frivolous apparition, and i am meeting lovely and lovely unknown souls, of all gender. You know who you are. Endless beauty, in the heart. And let me be the star of your darkness.

**************

As coherent as it might seems, slathering subconsciously, binging subliminal messages of prudently inclined, I am wedged by my own dreams. I wish everything would be perfect. Like the beautiful stainless impudence of the saints. But I am not one. Cantankerous, what does it means?

**************

Minding an aspirazione is not complicated, especially when it comes to ferreting for what have not. Culminating, in the empathy, of yours truly. Ranting, madding, quiver, pharaoh, all of these are equivocal and equibilirium. Founded by unwanted blasphemy. I will keep on being a belligerent. Conceding trounce has never appeared in my streak. Not because of any other thing.

Because I am, Madnessinvain.

Istanbul in My Heart Part III

2005-07-25T01:56:00.000+08:00

Summer September 98 in Istanbul. The smell of cricks and hard day labour can be seen from the eyes of the taxi driver seating besides me, honking on every single thing that moves, grannies, grandpas, kids, and sheep. “Bring em on and I will blight in my national language” said the taxi bey.Anal. Vivacious and vibrant, like the Merdeka day parade. Negaraku, tanah kita depa sapu.

Road from Uskudar to the pier was hectic, ranks and ranks of deliberately fucking and celebrated chaos, a show of gallantry and otak udang. The bloods of warriors run in their veins, sharp edges and fez, and the ability to eat olive just like that. Errrghh. And Fanta, it's always Fanta, not Coke. Coke kurang, Fanta ada banyak. Making me fantast. Hohohoho.

**************************

I am late. Tonight will be the last night im meeting Tugba. In two days time, i will reek and feast my eyes with the meat market at the bar in HRC, inhaling repugnant savor of peccadilloes, mind you, sins. Open your heart and be a peccant. Masticating yummy diagrams, salivating steps of Lucifer. Not to mention bargaining eccentric shoppings at Lorong Kulit, and ceramah maghrib at Masjid Shah Alam. Yayyyyy!

The marmoreal on the lavish restaurant was shining gloriously, and the voluptuous bodies of the half naked belly dancers, turning the minds of the half naked heads. Shake it baby, shake it baby. Translucent of lust is in full control. But for me, nothing can divert me eyes, from the one sitting in front of me. Love-in. Sorry, but i have a better honest and lovely soul, waiting for me in my home country.

**************************

Mustafa Kemal Artatuk International Airport was still under construction by then, hence the looting of my cartoons of dunhill mat rempit, yeah, I smoke that, but does that make me look like one?, don’t be a cynical freak. And don’t judge anything per se, if we don’t want to be judged discriminately, eh? Disorganised was the word. As the plane landed on KLIA, accompanied with the joy of clapping and ludicrously political climate, I can hear nothing, bar non.

Except, the indented and plain tinge in my heart, saying the one in Malaysia, has been sleeping around. Fuck.

Ruefully Delightful

2005-07-21T02:38:00.000+08:00

Its 2.38 am, i'm still blinking my eyes and my mind was away, depicting elucidation of the hoi polloi in my heart. Perhaps she knew i am madly, in love, with her. Perhaps not. A surgical benevolence i might say, it was you when i look in the mirror, it was always you. Eternalness. The delightful stars and its blinking rays shedding through the window, of clear humanoid scruples. Flask after flask, grain after grain.

A specter in the mind is all i have. Evoking the true dappled, multihued of my sans commonsensical prelude. Honestly, i dreamed about you all the time.

Can you feel it? The gigantic and opulent anarchist, tantalizing traits of scrappily. Pandemonium and psychosis. Anything in this world for you. I'll drain my blood if that will make you, a divine, princess. A fidgeted possibility is all I ask, let me gasp the air of your core. You'll be the queen of my cosmos.

And I will love you forever.

La La Land

2005-07-19T10:38:00.000+08:00

I'm not a versifier, nor blatantly imprudent. I had my fair share of living in this besmirched world. Combating for what I believe in, noir and crËme. At times, my sagacity tells me the battle is far from over, at times is it just lurking around the corner. For the last seven months, fortitude is all I have, perhaps God still loves me, or hates me. Ampunkan dosa hambaMu ini. Vie?

**********

Yes, ive met her. There she was, looking as suave as ever, lovely. Laugh and ponder, transcending the serendipity, of nihility. Will you marry me? That night I slept with a smile, cherishing every single magical moment spent with her, looking deep inside her dazzling eyes. And the smell of your hair is heavenly.

**************************

I love airport, in definition, I divide it into two fragmentations. Wander land and wanderlust. Delight and sadness. Clapping of joy, when you see your beloved ones popping their face at the arrival level and tears of misery, when you bid them goodbye, at the departure level. Don Muang, Heathrow, Mustafa Kemal Artatuk, Chap Lei Kok, itís the same, the drama is almost identical. Madness.

Short but Long

2005-07-14T14:04:00.000+08:00

Madnessinvain tak ada, dia pergi KLIA, tengok stewardess.

I am Dreaming

2005-07-13T23:33:00.000+08:00

An entry of self explainatory. This is fictional. Riiite.

In all my years of living, i have never had any difficulties in communicating with the different gender, no, not the "nok" type. Its pure women you freak. Name it, i had no dyslexic inability, shove it to me babeh, i'll weave a story. I am court jester. Dida dida dida dida.

Big, small, fair skin, berkarat skin, blue, green, hazel, black, from Iceland to New Zealand. No, make that from the whole universe. Unless, she is someone that i like. I mean really like. I would change to a wombat. My pupils will become big, like nek lampir. Or was it mak lampir?

Lets assume months ago or months in the future, ive met with this lovely lady, a class of her own, creme de la creme, hoi polloi. Petite, smooth armada, silky hair and shining eyes, like twinkling stars. I immediate fell for her. Yeah, i did. And all i did after that was uttering ingorant dumbass lines. Even if i was on her shoes, i will vomit blood, like blearrrrrrrrrrrrrrrgh. Mat Kental. You know Mat Kental?

That wasn't me. Not even a single shit is mine. Why am i turning to irama 60an? Like an astute sound of my mid life neighbour, who jammed my ears with karaoke of Jeffrey Din and such, ON EVERY sunday afternoon, without fail. I tell you, i almost got pooped in my bermuda once, when he started "Oh mas mona, gadis yang ayu, penawar hatiku yang ....lalallalaalalla". Thanks but no thanks for my photo graphics memory. No offence ya pop ye ye fans.

Now, you tell me. And im losing the battle. Ayayaya!

Btw this is the song that i wrote for her.

I open my eyes
The pain is empty
Your present is eternity
When we are lying under shining stars

I open my eyes
You are there for me
And how could i be in hell
When the smell of your hair is heavenly

Chorus

And you are the epicentre of my love universe
And you are the epicentre of my love universe
And you are the epicentre of my love universe
And you are the epicentre of my love universe

Shit, now i do look like Mat Kental.

Me Love You Long Long Time - Haadyai

2005-07-11T08:38:00.000+08:00

“Hello there lightning. Will you be there always?”. Transcending through the peek hole of clouds. Black black eerie sky at night. Fermenting sights of treason. Im in this stupid minibus. My eyes can’t get it shut. Flicking away with the happiness profound in the Haad Rin. Yum, yum and yummy.

“Its dark in here”. The sinister in me is smiling. Flake after flake, drops of dew are in the midst of loom. Lining down on the back mirror, convoluted by the twang of perilously aurora, fidgeted by my mindless core. And the spun of Thai sweetass singer jogged my memory of that Chinese 70’s ad. Fuck.

********************************

Racheal is fast asleep, albeit on my shoulder, NOT on the prick with the donkey pong. Surathani to Haadyai will clutch 5-6 hours of driving. On the free toll highway, with goats and cows roving freely, naah, add in piglets lavishly. Oink, oink, oink.

Earlier, once reaching Donsak pier, faggots are waiting to eat your shit, separating shepherds according to the destinations, Krabi, Phuket, Bangkok, Haadyai, Padang Besar. But surprisingly all them will be directed to this tiny miny “travel agency”. On board the pick up truck, there was a trio of Arab looking men, with bags and bags of travelling bag with wheels, like the one you see in airports, they are heading to Phuket, perhaps waiting for their balls to be squeezed by the shemales there, Patong, ping pong, whatever.

Sitting beside them, a couple of short legged Japanese, busying themselves with a travel book, in kanji of course and beside me, this lovely curly hair Scottish lady with lovely green eyes. The most beautiful I have ever seen. Im in love, with the eyes. Heh.

*********************************

Haadyai, the city of joy. Aquariums and bars full of human flesh, dancing poles, and Malaysian tourists. All looking for an escapade via one’s dick. Dickhead. Im here only for one night, before travelling to Golok early the next morning. Lonely Planet suggested Cathay Guest House, that is where im heading. And Racheal too, and the donkey too. Damn.

Can I just kill you, donkey?

A remnant of B&B in Haadyai, pasted on the door of my rustic room. Orchestrated while we were having our "coffee", and while the donkey is busy wanking himself in the lalaland. Hello, she knocked on my door ok. What am i suppose to do? Do a weasel war dance?. Hohoho.

To Lovely Racheal, it was a blast, wasn't it? Cheers love. And dumb your stinkin' mad hairy jealous Jewish BF. Fuckwits.

Sorrow in a Hollow

2005-07-08T11:31:00.000+08:00

Prayers for all victims in London, Iraq, Palestine and everywhere. Im helpless.

Parallel Travesty by Madnessinvain

Life is all we boast
Soul is all you toast

Hopes were copiously
Disaster a calamity

Will there be heaven on earth?
Mark your berth infinity

Because the root of evil demonised solemnly
May you rest in peace, in serenity

Amen.

Meme Book

2005-07-07T22:47:00.000+08:00

So, im the next victim, thanks kepalaangin. I'll take the honour, but nothing much in reviews.

How many books i do own?

Lost count.

The last book i bought?

Tafsir Al Quran - Abdullah Yusof Ali

The last book i read?

The Alchemist

Five books that meant a lot to me (I have more, but these are my fav).

Tafsir Al Quran- My soul healer by Abdullah Yusof Ali. I bring it everywhere i go.

The International Jew - Henry Ford, Sr. World is so full of tricks eh?

The Alchemist - Paulho Coelho - Hopes are everlasting. I'll try my best.

Prozac Nation - Elizabeth Wurtzel. I was told Celebrex 800 is better.

Losing My Virginity - Richard Branson - Eccentric and flamboyant. Rock on!

I have a few in mind on who shall i pass this, but i cant locate my memory.

Ο ουρανός είναι στη γη;

2005-07-06T00:33:00.000+08:00

The journey from Istanbul- Pitio-Thessaloniki-Mykonos will dread any shit out of normal human. Long waiting at the border. Kids running around, pedllers selling food, ferventing days of hardship. Crackles are everywhere. Night turns to day. Black and bright. But im enjoying every single second of it. The rumifications of two long lasting fighting empires, trolling trollops. Nice.

****************************

As i am wandering on my wanderlust passage, a vision of me as a travelling traveller of soul, ignited by a perplex desire of ignorant stupidity. Sand on my feet slithering away, blown by the guts and glory of the paradise beach in the hedonics island Mykonos, the toast of harrumph. Azure beaches and bitches, mind you. Booze is halal, for them. One could not stop ogling on the rampant conjectures of semi naked, luscious, parched and tan bodies. Padded after another. Mighty sun reaking its glimmer. Elation is in the air.

Smell it. This is tang. Repugnant. Fucking fuck. Im in seven heaven.

A simple "ti kanis" can get you all night long of shaking beds. And draining energy.Why bother when you can have it all? Zealots of travesty. God and goddes are the story of apostles and infidels, lust is everything.

This is your life, are you who you want to be?

Of Soul, Food, Ibiza and...Life

2005-07-05T02:38:00.000+08:00

Last weekend was a good break for me. Indeed, a good break for the heart and soul. I'm a damaged puppet, a plethora of infectious gangrine. My cerebral is knocked to its depth. And im still breathing for the wonders of the world. At this moment, as im looking at the vision of myself in mirror, plaited by white haze of cold, cloyed by the degree of human glutonny, infidelity and trecheary, i can see only a purview of nothing. Zero.

Broken yes, but not beaten. I am the king of the world.

****************************

Italian Kitchen serves you the best seafood marinara i was told. And i have yet to taste it. It would be such an honour to have it hot, like the best chili crab served in Tanjung Harapan. Overseeing the muddy shoreline, lighting by the moon, shining up in the sky. Vanity in a pungent. A bland taste for the eye. Mighty, mighty, mighty.

****************************

While she is busy interlacing herself in the midst of sheer vainglorious joy, all eyes are busy feasting on her hot body. Blue, yellow, and red. Those are the colours of ramification. Drops of sweat filtering away the clouds of foam. Ganja. "How can i hold this". The devil in me is chanting my lust. Affluent desire. Ibiza will always stay the same. Year after year, this is the destination of mockery, to hanker after, covetuousness. An attempt of disdain. Amnesia & Pacha. And flying bitches at Blue Rose..... ola!

****************************

Her: I love him. He is the man of my dream.

Me: And all these 5-6 years you have been pretending that you love me?

Her: I have never love you. It's all bullshit.

Yeah, its all bs. After all things that we built up together, after all the sacrifices we endured together, hand in hand. Why didn't you tell this while you were a student back then? While we were having our sun and sea vacation? Why did you tell me after you have become the young rising stalwarts in your corporate world?

And why did you send me those sms from the Holy Land exactly 1 month and 1 week before you say goodbye?

"hi sayang, hope u're in good shape, at this very moment i feel calm n i've found my peace here. god has put me with a lot of challenges here. I only have 1 wish. I want us to be diijabkabulkan di mekah di masjidil haram"

Never once I blame you on whatever happened between us. It has been fated, a god's gift.

Dont worry guys, it happened long time ago, but the repercussion is everlast. I am still fighting for my life, praying for the best. Amin.

Happy Nightmare

2005-06-30T14:01:00.000+08:00

Love is a pandemic. A pure pedigree of its own. And im so lucky to taste the lot. I mean, used to. Fucking fuck. Despise me when i think of it. Looting me my affinity to fall, in love, again. Disorientation has its own benefit. I shall live the present hoping for the better future. And i am an ex x-men, i'll heal my own sorrow.

People come, people go, but true love remains forever. Long lasting. No you prick, this rant is not a me amore fuckwits genre. Did i sneek into your panties? Did i crush your balls? Tommy knockers, tommy knockers, knocking at the door.

Lets talk about life. Once you reach certain age in your so called manic life, you had had tasted every inches your young body ever dreamed of. Lust, tyranny, deceitful, dull-witted. Weaving your jovial soul in mode of ecstasy, eh? But all is not well, you are missing something. A hollow not even you bitchass sane mind can corrupt with. Eloquent it may seems, but all of us hates to admit it. I have found mine,yay! And I hope you will find yours. Amin for that.

Madnessinvain thinks he should stop writing. His edgy hallucinations compounded by his tipu tipu kerja live are making him more restless. An arrow of purity? Not.

Istanbul in My Heart Part II

2005-06-29T13:32:00.000+08:00

"Effemdim, tuvelet nerede?" This bey with beer belly shoot me the the direction to the gents immediately. Its getting hotter in this Marmara Hotel, in the midst of Taksim Square, when all the Liverpudlian ran amok after their undeserving victory. Hoho! The dinner was good, a selection of iskender kebab and pilav and lahmacun.

"Perhaps desert will be the essence of the night". But the staring eyes made me uncomfortable. I am a 15 minutes celebrity. And chain of well wishers greeting "Merhaba and Nasilsiniz" making me looked like an extra who just standing out of nothing while holding my tombak, just like the old malay movie. This is life, round and round it again, ups and down, ups and down.

*********************

The seats on the boat cruising along the Golden Horn were comfy, a couple of madly in love sparrows roaming freely, without any worry. And the summer August sea gust blowing her blonde hair softly, embarking all the envy eyes with sorrow. “Mungkinkah mereka sedang mencarut di dalam bahasa ibunda mereka” Hell, like i care. All that i care now is to enjoy this magical moment.

We chatted and chatted with all our valor, as I am an honest clown of the universe. No wine to accompany, only mint tea which enough to elate me from my travesty. Late that night, she sent me home, which did drop the jaw of my bald neighbour , who was walking with his German Shepherd, (ya , Hanafis can adopt dog), on his way to the nearest 24 hours shop, to buy a packet of studded condom (ok la, the condom tu, I just create it up).

"Good nite Tugba, it was a divine moment and drive safely dear. See you tommorow?" To which she replied in malleable, connoted by a very sweet smile. "Ok, perhaps we should do this again?"

Yay!

Aye Ole Constantinople, how lovely you are,
Leander’s tower, Topkapi palace revealing in the apostle light,
Soaring minarets, Church of Wisdom standing side by side,
And budak kampung selekeh with the eminent beauty of a Turkish’s maiden might.

The end is not here, we'll meet again at the Final series Istanbul in My Heart III. At undisclosed time and effort.

Where art Thou?

2005-06-28T17:13:00.000+08:00

One short entry for the distressing soul. I need to shit this out. Why should you bother?

When we found ourselves in vehement madness, what would we do? A prolific profusely answer would be, i have a few decent options to imply, yadda yadda. Buble in his "Home" lyric stresses when everything else fails, i just wanna to go home. Perhaps home is the place of heaven. Loneliness is an epidemic that will shiver your spine. Inadequate mental illnesses is another. A molar volume of illuminating perversion.

I admit, as much as i love travelling alone, at times i am beaten by the symphony of hollow in my mind. Its like parading yourself in Mardi Gra, you lose your senses while ransacking the dignity of the others. At the day of yore, I'll do anything to have the prospect in basking my self under the ray of pleasure and exploring the beauty of virgin sans border.

For now, i would rather stay home.

Full Moon Party - Its All in Your Mind

2005-06-28T00:50:00.000+08:00

It's almost 8 something in the morning, my new friend, a thai undergraduate who is sleeping below my bunker is talking in sleep again. Yeah dude, thanks so much for the promise to wake me up once we reach Surathani. And the train should be arriving at my destination soon. Last time i check, ive been to the canteen seven or eight times, puffing my lung out. Lid a ciggies and wonder where will this travel tales lead me next. On my way there, all the Scandanavians are busy brushing their lovely tits.. err teeths. One thing ive learned about beautiful women, even when they woke up looking scary in the morning, they will still look beautiful. I smiled back at them. A weak smile indeed, like the one you see in those horror movie.

The scandanavians are a bunch of very nice people, warmth and friendly, unlike the israelis, fuck them. You should make yourself to Koh Pha Ngan and see how they behave, with the shaloms and all. Mad mad people, not being anti semitic here, but these fuckwits are mostly hated by the backpackers for their unethical behaviour. Ask anyone, and this will be the same answer, "Ah the israelis, stupid prick"

***********************

I checked in my hotel in Haad Rin after the rough three hours journey on the snail ferry and another half an hour on the pick up truck. The weather was lovely. Sea breeze will always make me happy, and the smell of salt will englighten my day. Let me give you a tip, as a solo traveller, safety is always my main concern. Check the room you are planning to stay, ask for a ten to "see" your room, if you are not happy, return back the keys and find a better one. For me, i will "sweep" the room for any unwanted materials, as you might already know, islands in thailand are well known with their endless supplies of weeds. And i found a packet of it, hidden under the wash basin, flushed it in the toilet and im done.

My new neighbours, on my left, a group of young red ass brits ladies and on my right, a sweet french couple with a body to die for, god damn dyke. Reminds me of the Hard Rock Cafe's crowd, tearjerking their heads off with bacardi lemon and a bucket of heineken. After exchanging hellos and some witty lines, i get into my room and its time to hit the prayers mat.

I need a good rest, tonite is going to be a blast.

***********************

Trance, drum n bass or anything you wish, the blaring music will make even any god fearing soul like me drown in elation, full moon ahead. Thousands and thousands of alchohol driven multinational revellers are busy implying themselves in madness. Some of the blondies are without their top bikinis, and the melons are swingging over and over again. Sofia, a norwegian with british accents, passed me a nicely designed bottle of absolut vodka. " I am a muslim love. "I dont drink". "Oooohh, what a pity, but do you dance?" asked her. "My dear, you are sweet talking me, and i am an epiphany of your wishful thinking."

Let the party begins, baby.

The party ended once the sun sets its mighty but most of it were transffered to bars and pubs around Haad Rin. And where was i? Wrapping myself around the lovely norwegian's body? Naaah, i went back early for my subuh. You people are undermining me la , fucking fuck.

Hua Lampong

2005-06-27T13:03:00.000+08:00

I'll continue with Istanbul in My Heart Part II when i feel like it. Perhaps tommorow, or the day after or even next year. Whateva. Meanwhile, eat your own shit or better still, continue reading.

Hua Lampong Train Station in Bangkok is just like the one in Istanbul. Nothing in comparison with our opulent KL Sentral. A tuk tuk ride from my hotel (or was it a goat barn) to this remnant of history was spectacular. A zealot on its own. Jack, my tuk tuk rider, was a jovial person. The first thing he showed me as soon i laid my burned ass was a brochure. A cammaderie of colorful you know what. In pink bubble bath. With a lot of mirror. "You want massage, bang-bang? Anything".

My eyes was blurry, dam dam dam and times that with 1000, yummy, hard on. "1500 bath, very cheap. You can take two. You get shower first. They use their milk to shower you. Whoaa, hold your horses Jack, and down there my horsie.

"I no speaking English. Hua Lampong?" (I did the same trick in Istanbul when this "tourist guide came over and offer his "service") and his face changed to a midget who looks like finished a pile of shit on his own. In this never ending world of sexual connotations, people will do anything to fullfill their greatest wish. Money that is. Money creates power and power creates money. Bang-bang the wife of your friend, or other monsterous acts are all derieved from greed which in return rooted from money. Well at least thats my point of view. If you dont like, why dont you find a cucumber and stuck in it your arse.

Zig zagging through busy lanes of Bangkok in tuk tuk accompanied with afternoon drizzle is an experience i will never forget. And The smell of the smog emmitted will make any Frederika or Ulrisch from Greenpeace screams bigotry. Aahhh...

********

People are now everywhere. Backpackers come in herds. Monks and people from the Muslim dominated south are busy concentrating to their destinations like the Newton theory, in random orders. The only signage that i fully understand rowing side by side with the imfamous curly Siamese fonts is "surau" or was it "tempat sembahyang"? (Its either one la, can you recall your mum's birth ceritficate numbers? Getting my riff eh?).

There i kneed my soul before the Almighty for His supports and opportunities aplenty to let me meet Him again. Im not preaching here you fuck. Its only ive never try to betray my belief or neither i say you should betray yours. I have this uneasiness feeling if i dont do my obligation.

On the other note, Koh Pha Ngan and Full Moon Party. Here comes your grandaddy. Hah!

Istanbul in My Heart Part 1

2005-06-26T13:19:00.000+08:00

I hate to be a wet blanket. Mortals will always be mortals. Albiet a very strange perception on life. Here i am, in the office on Sunday afternoon, looking bizarrely obtuse. Hello, i do have life ok, it's only i've done my time and nothing seems to attract my attention anymore. Not even this milf that were looking deep inside my eyes, when i was buying my nasi ayam. "What's on your mind hot mama?".

Been thinking migrating to somewhere cold, with endless supplies of brunettes, blondes and backlavas. In Istanbul, they have this strange version of mini bus called dolmus. What's more eccentric about this dolmus is that they dont have ticket man or electronic fare machine. How do you pay your fare then? Easy my dear, just pass the amount and tell anyone in front of you where is your destination. This person in return will pass your money to the one in front of him/her and the process repeats itself until it reaches the driver. Once i was standing right besides the driver and can you imagine the amount of small change and verses i have to repeat. And from observations in many many days travelling in the dolmus, none of them ever cheated. And once you reached your destination, dont bother to find the bell button. Just yell "the name of your destination and say "injek varrrrr" as loud as possible". Entertaining eh?

From my apartment where i shared with the medics students from all over Turkey and a few of them from Albania, i can clearly view the calm and cold of the Bhosphrous Sea. Aaahh... that was ecstacy (and the virgin look-alike of my voluptuous secular neighbour, sweet ass). To meet my other comrades i have to walk for 15 minutes to catch a dolmus, take a ferry to the European side of the Istanbul, walk again and take a tram and walk again for another 15 minutes to reach Sultanahmed area, the epicentre of sight seeing in Istanbul. The total journey will eat two hours of my lovely Saturday.

Ok, enough of me telling you about the trollop story of Constantinople. On one fine day there, while i was busy sorting out the news to aired, i was approached by the news reader in the television station where i was attached to. A blonde with a set of beautiful green eyes and very very fine Eve's treasure. She asked me out. Yay! Now tell me, how many of you prick, in your entire life, a stunning Turkish news reader has ever asked you out for a date? Hah! In your dreams mah man, in your dreams.

After the news, we head back to her apartment (no you fuck, we only go there because she needs to change. By the way, her mom was there too, dammit!) Being a Malaysian who is well known with warmth and kind hospitality, i chatted a bit of broken Turkish with her mum. As a guest, i was served with a peach cay aka tea and some kind of weird looking biscuits. After bidding good bye to her mum (which she sent me right down to the gate, at the ground floor level!), as we were walking towards her car, i looked up and my my all the neighbours were standing at their respective apartment's porch with all eyes hunted at me. It was like a scout jamboree, stacking up one after another. Perhaps, after translation of course, this was the same thought they have in their head . "Siapakah jejaka kacak yang bersama pembaca berita popular itu?"

Let's continue this story later shall we?

Sigh...

2005-06-25T22:24:00.000+08:00

As i am trying to reminisce about the good yesteryear, a reality check hit me straight on my vast illuminations. Subjudice said the brain but it's a mala fide said the soul. I was born with the ability to profound and dilligently interprets the meaning of life. I know what i want to be and the direction is very very clear to me. But obviously this is not enough. I am in daze. And the feeling to hold hands with the one you cherish is not a rocket science.

In my line of industry, i have met with so many sweet young things. Fuckable that more likely. But this poor ghoul doesnt have the urge to move forward. No you bitchass, i'm not gay. Well, not that i have anything against gays but that is different story. Still with me? Or your mind is already in the explicits and tacid sensual libido? Making love is different compared with err... fucking. When we make love, all our mind and passion are channel to the beloved one you have infront of you, or what ever positions you freaks desire.

Again, dont make any conclusion that i am a bed hopper you fucking fuck nor i am not a virgin. Making bad assumption is equivalent to the term fuck yourself. All im saying is making love WITH the one you love is different. Hence the differences between making love and fucking. Fucking can even be done with a duck, or inflated doll. Unless you are a totally nutto who thinks the duck or the doll is your beloved soulmate, may god bless you and give you the best spot in hell. Hah!

For me, i will only make love and i dont fuck. To do that i have to fall in love and maybe get married. That moment of the eternity will only appears in god knows when. And getting hints by the sweet young things are making me more remorse. Sheesh, life is ever demanding. (For you pricks out there who think i will leak the details of the sweet young things, im not a pimp you bitchass! Neeevah!)

Collide

2005-06-24T19:06:00.000+08:00

How do you define a good person? A brick or break question this is. In my wonderful years of living, i've confronted many many "segmentation" of people. We are prejudice by our own means. Notwithstanding the occurrences of generic thoughts. I am not a saint or a sinner. But i have my other side that i myself dont even understand.

How do you define when a person who miraculously endeavour himself/herself in but still never forget his/her religious obligations? They still pray, fast and do charity but still engaging in those subconscious bonding with the great satan. And how about the pious person who indulge himself/herself with the sinnest acts of all?

If you cant read the line of the two types of people i have described above, i would suggest you to read it again. The chosen path is all in the mind. We are the one who inculcates our own journey. Never never look down on those people who gulped JD on those happy hour nights. Now dont get me wrong my dear loyal readers, i am not portraying myself here. Just give these people a break. Sooner or later they will find the truth and repent door is only just around the corner.

Bangkok Blues

2005-06-23T15:21:00.000+08:00

I love travelling. And i've been to few places around the world. The story i want to tell you today is about my last excursion to the land of white elephant. You see, i'm the one you call a backpacker. And usually i travel alone. Yuppo, you heard it right, i do travel alone. I love to meet new people from all walks of life. And backpacking is like a trapping door, once you are in it, you'll never escape. In definition, it's a travel euphoria, where every second spent is making your dumbfuck mind in delirium.

It was 6.30 pm and as i am walking through the smelly alley in the Khao San Road, i stumbled upon a nice leather shop. Everything is cheap there, a small pouch made from err.. animal skin only cost you around err.. i cant recall. But that is not only the interesting part of my profound skirmish. There is one lovely japanese chicks who is very very and i mean very very hot. We traded opinions and views about the travel tales and next i have found myself having a dinner with her. Ya ya, i know what's on your mind you fucking fuck pervert but can't you wait till i finish my story?

Well after the succulent dinner and a few rounds of beer for her and orange juice for me (sheesh), it's time to move to more hotter place i.e the nearest club called The Lava. And there i strutted a few of my limited movement back in those Piccadily days. And oh my my, she was indeed very very happy watching me making fool of myself. Yay! A brownie point for me. We were in sweat and its time to hit the end note. Ayayaya. She is staying somewhere near to where i stayed and on the way back, banters and laughters were the epitome of our outing. This is what i really like about backpacking. You will never know where you will be or who you'll meet next.

When we reached the reception area, she invited me for a coffee, wow, perhaps her room is well equipped with tea and coffee making facilities; and i said why not my dear. And i'm sure you have in your dirty mind what happened next. Indeed, she did make the first move after the coffee session and no, and i swear to god, i did not do it. What i did was finding excuses on how to free myself. And there weren't even any lips locked. Hey you fuck, i'm telling you the truth here.

I couldnt shed a single second of sleep that night. My mind was away in London. Perhaps these are the questions lingering on the lonely hot sexy japanese lady in bangkok mind. "Did i do something so bizarre? Was i not good enough for him? Perhaps i have a bad breath? etc etc.

Sorry Tomoko san, the truth is i'm too in love with my gf (ex by now). When i fall in love, or when im in a relationship, nothing, i mean nothing can separate my loyalty and love towards the beloved one. And even months after that incident, i am still jamming my head on the wall. But God is oft merciful and oft forgiving. The best for me is still out there. Now, please allow me to ask you a question. Are you the one?...(Girls only please, ok lah add in milf too. Guys? Here is your ticket, please take a back seat).

Here Comes the Demented Soul

2005-06-23T14:30:00.000+08:00

Ladies and gentleman, as i started my own ramblings on this coherent cyber world, my feelings is disseminated by so many questions. Would i be able to pour everything into soul, vexing vengance on this cruel life of yours truly. The promise i made to myself is im not going to compromise on what i think you want to read. I'll write whatever cross my heart, as this is not a pleasure place for you, nor me. It's a place where life long stories adage simplified the hoi polloi of the universe. And when you want something with all your heart, all the entire universe conspires to help me find you.