Tuesday, November 17, 2015


You wanna know what fuckin' grinds my gear?
Fake people.
Fake people really grinds the gears of my hating machine.
You're a fraud. And you. And you. And YOU. AND YOU. AND YOU AND YOU AND YOU.

Do you know why I have such a high turnover of friends? Because after detecting hypocrisy and cockiness with zero self-awareness, I become irritated by the person. Most people do not reflect on themselves. And I am not in the business of serving reality checks.

Why do you bother to pretend to be friends and say things you don't mean? You really needn't say that. My cup floweth over with piss. I don't want your piss, even if you're famous. Drop the act, homeboy. You are not down-to-earth for sporadically talking to me. You are not humble for being friends and following me on social media despite your celebrity status.

So God help you if you think your current social circle genuinely cares for you and are not only with you because of your fame. So God help you in your times of loneliness and identity crises. So God help you in your moments of weakness because I am not Jesus and your friends are not your disciples.

In my return I have learned who loves me and who I should love.

I am in awe of the people who profess love and loyalty without a moment's hesitation because they are always the ones who does nothing to show for it. You are what you are and you should know it. Do not ever use the excuse of time on me, do not ever expect me to go out of my way for you, do not do, I do not do.

This visitation has mangled my direction. I never wanted to come back. I hated the country. I hate everything about it in my desperate need of escape. I had to get out. Now I want back in, but not in the same place.

I hated being an alien. I was bitter from having my childhood broken in two. It made me complex and interesting. It made me a fascinating story. A detail I did not care for and would have rather it not be. Never did I expect that I'd love being here again from an existing history and connections.

All this time I was thinking, "Life or death?" but now it's become "here or there?"

God, is this You saving me again?

Sunday, November 08, 2015


It is only physical. Does it mean anything? It is matter but does it matter?
Bubbles pop. Cherries pop. Bottles pop. People pop.
I am a slave to my body. My mind dependent on my mood dependent on my brain.
I am a slave to my brain. My behaviour dependent on my mood dependent on my liking.
Lusting, looking, craving.
Is it only physical or is it inexcusable?
You may not forgive me but I can not think right anymore.
The world is in me and it is weighing me down to hell.

Tuesday, October 27, 2015


A weekly reminder of why I should not die:

1) I am blessed

2) I should bless

3) Prove to be stronger

4) Only shame suicide when ultimate failure occurs

5) Hell

It's a stupid phase. It, too, shall pass. If not, I will.

Friday, October 16, 2015

Dear Future Husband,

I love you more than life itself. I love you more than money and classy desserts. I'd rather look at you than handsome, young, shirtless boys with curvy shoulders and arms and a fit belly. Should you not exist, I say this to my future cat companion.




They say I have a powerful story
They say it's so dramatic
Oh, what a story it is to tell
I sometimes wish I didn't have it

The pain that occurred inside my soul
My heart broken by all most you
I cried so many times from love
I hate you

If so you dare show yourself to me
I will fist your fucking face first
I swear if you've got the skin
Your body will hurt

I will make it swell more
Than what grief I felt in the last three years
Of my away
From my home from my country
You had no right to make me Malay

I will see to it that you wished you never saw me
Because your cheeks will be bloodied
And I. I will sully my Christianity to bring you humility and sorry

Test the power of my story
You made the drama so awfully captivating
Fully deserving awards from movies
I will break you in front of your family
See the light in my eyes I am innocent

You are so