kiss and tell and lose

reluctantly, i wrote a simple explanation of what was i doing by making public my views and opinions on premarital sex. i have posted many entries on the subject previously. being your average unorthodox, insensitive yet sarcastic, i must've crossed some lines.

this morning, i was a bit surprised to have not-entirely-anonymously-written advice in my mailbox. i am grateful. thanks dear. but still, there are things that perhaps not all of us would decipher like the others would.

the purported assumption was that, i was practicing premarital sex on a regular basis. as far as i can remember, i did not scream from any rooftops announcing proudly my being able to get between their legs with no strings attached.

i'm in my all-work-and-no-play mode. so, don't play-play.

the man, mary jane and december 1999

i heard eddie vedder said this during one of pearl jam's many great performances, "this one goes out to a friend who's currently serving a jail term. for abusing his own, inner child". now that's brilliant. mr vedder is one arrogant bastard. and he is also genius. (genius+arrogance=brilliance).

speaking of which, there was this friend from the east coast. all of us called him "stone" or maybe "stoned". the latter would suit him best as he was always, stoned. so this stone character, put his stoned-ness aside, is an accomplished guitarist. he would play richard ashcroft's the drugs don't work for me to sing. sometimes nutshell by alice in chains and those 90's tunes.

so what makes this pothead so significant that i'm actually writing a tribute to him?

well, the man himself impacted so much on my life then. and now still. at times, after a few joints, we would sit in my tiny, little room writing poems. yes, you read it right. poems and lyrics to songs we never had the chance to complete. now why the hell would someone write poems and have a serious discussion about it when he/she should enjoy the wonders of THC? i don't know but it felt good.

it was freedom that i'm experiencing. freedom of space and time. funny though to imagine that we actually had arguments about the air, color and those unthinkable stuffs. i made a collage from those old kerrang and hung it on my bedroom wall. then together we produced a lyric out of it. with a rhyming stanzas. obviously, we're so there.

i wonder where he is now. bro, if you're reading, we're planning a trip to amsterdam.

a proud johorean on the day mahathir left

one should make a draft of whatever to be posted in a blog. one should be granted the permission of taking one's own sweet time in delivering something in bloggerville. but not me. i just write anything. think for like 2 minutes and pour it all out in writing. sometimes, there are things you thought could be well received. some weird ideas maybe.

so i did a lot of my thinkings (or daydreaming) while behind the wheels. today, on my way to plaza kotaraya, i thought of the difference between living in JB and KL. in many ways.

i. there's hardly any traffic jam in JB. even if there is, it would not be as severe as in KL.
ii. friendliness. i think people are friendlier here. in KL, "go f**k yourself" is not a foul language. it is to make your presence felt.
iii. food. you can find food anywhere in KL. but not good food. no complaints.
iv. in KL, you are always in a constant search of a good life. you live by other's definition of GOOD. we don't search here in JB. we expect.
v. pollution is no longer an issue in KL. they don't talk about it anymore. they think chernobyl is the point of reference so they are still doing fine.
vi. even though it'll cost you more to live in JB (thanks to them singaporeans), why can't i save any moolah every month? that's a mystery.

no offense ya. let's have some real defining moments of F&B in JB. i'll do the introducing and you do the buying. savvy?

ritual #2

i don't know about the others but sure it felt creepy. honestly, i wasn't scared. i was so eager to witness the whole process. so coming back to the "session".

suddenly the baby stopped crying. he uttered words. words understandable only if you're from the other side. the man wiped the air right above the patient. then he raised his right hand and showed to the door. (to me the act was more like throwing something out of the door, from the body).

then the son ran, holding a torchlight to the main door which was left ajar, earlier (where the bottle was). actually, he was guiding THE thing out of the room and ushered it towards the bottle. then he came back into the room and put his father's hand down firmly on the yellow cloth.

i was a bit puzzled when i heard the sound from the man. it was like a young girl crying and reciting Quran verses between breaths. then after like 10 minutes, he asked for the bottle. the color is now thick blood red. full of blood. then he took a quran whilst turning the bottle upside down. he pointed something on the bottom of the bottle. something like a monkey's nail.

i just couldn't understand the reason why people would resort to such behavior in this era. you will never understand, i suppose.

to some, revenge is sweet.

ritual #1

i had my first ever experience to actually witness a ritual. a witchdoctor with all the necessary arrangements in yellow and strange little things sat within two feet away from me. in pitch dark.

it was 10+pm. we drove for almost an hour to a place famous for mystical creatures and stuffs. greeted by the wife, we sat outside and chatted whilst waiting for the man. he arrived with his younger son carrying a plastic bag.

he went in for a while. "communicating" i was told. then i heard someone said, the "friend" requested the ritual to be done at 11pm. so we had about half an hour.

i was so sleepy when the son came to us and signaled, "it's time". we went in and sat around him in a little room. i just couldn't stand the smell of burning incenses. laid upon him, a medium-sized yellow cloth written with characters and verses ( i think). and various weapons, all wrapped tightly with yellow cloth, were arranged neatly before him.

he handed to the son a wooden stick and said, "put this in the kitchen". then he continued to show us an empty bottle filled with plain tap water. i want all of you to be sure so take a good look at it. and please "empty" your minds, i'm about to begin.

please make sure the "path" is clear. (he instructed that the path between the main door and the room that we're in must be clear from any obstructions.) drank like two gallons of water, switched the light off and he began to mumble something.

in less than 10 minutes, he began to act differently. i can see that he was trying to keep it steady whilst allowing something to get into him. swinging left and right. funny and scary sounds. he held onto a dagger firmly. (the dagger was being stood upright on the yellow cloth).

all of a sudden, the baby in the cradle cried. so loud that you know, she sure did see something.

to be continued....(ritual #2).

lost in translation

we were talking about recent movies with a friend. so i said that i haven't been blessed with the luxury of spending my weekends on movies for quite sometime. this friend of mine stopped me halfway and said something like, "yeah man, if not working, you'll be spending your precious time with amoi".

and the "subject" thought i was hitting on her.

she said, "bro, he was about to say something just now". as if suggesting that i was hinting to ask her out. she went on to say this to my friend, "he's not like you. he just wouldn't make it that obvious. like you always do". then she stood up and left. and i got a stick out, lit up and smoke it all away.

btw, my mom is now officially a good friend of amoi. put away that chopping board cause i'm not gonna put my head on it. happy mother's day mom!

used to love her but i have to kill her

i was once interested in her. she was somehow resemble the old flame. we exchange looks and i'm sure she definitely saw my jaw dropped and i was drooling profusely. she's got one bloody fine ass.

after sometime, we managed to sit together courtesy of a friend. but it was strictly business. she's working at a law firm, a good friend of an auctioneer. and i was looking for a house.

then, we went out together. accompanied by my karaoke buddies. last week, we met late in the afternoon. she gave a few addresses of the soon-to-be-auctioned houses. thanked her, gave my phone number, chatted a bit and i left her for the mosque.

that night, she sent me an sms. said she couldn't sleep. unsuspectingly, i told her to grab some good movies or music. and then the surprise arrived>>>"i couldn't sleep. just thinking about you".

so i said after a few msgs, "maybe we could be friends. there's no need to rush things. after all, u just got my number this afternoon. now i really need to get some sleep, sure u do too. we'll talk about this over lunch tomorrow ya. nite! ".

the reply was.
"i know your name and i know what i want. u know what to do. nite!"

i'm not confused. i'm happy with amoi. this is just a test. and don't tell amoi, she'll send someone to kill me.