the man walking on the tightrope.

i'm a man walking on a tight rope

hanging in the middle of the nowhere
shaking with the wind blowing with despair
the end's too near, but when will i be there?

i'm a man walking on a tightrope
not afraid of death, i'm dare to hope
step forward and ill be free
turn backward and back to my dream
which direction should i be?

no longer able to balance myself on the pain in my head
your whispers decided my next small step
i've been holding on, for so long
so long.
without moving on.

memories in my right grasp
and the future on the left
forward equals to ignorance
backward leads me loneliness
do i have to fall
to earn myself some happiness?


the man walking on a tightrope
he deserves some sympathy.

god made me special.

god made everyone special
every faces and every pair of eyes is unique on their own way
can u imagine that?
when u walk into a crowded place
how many story is playing at once?
a middle aged struggling in a job with a low pay and wondering how to hide that from his wife
young girl quarreled with boyfriend because he left the keys on baskin robbin's table
a proud dad who's thinking new names for his newborn
and countless others
ups and downs in everyone
in you, in me.
we're all in the roller coaster of life

the more people i meet each day,
the more i see the true colors of life
every pair of eyes that crossed mine
telling me there were so many story untold
every single person that passed me by
has passed by so many people in their life
and even every pair of hands got its own story to tell
every footstep on the sideways have walked thousand miles to reach where they are


if everyone i met in my life have a movie of their own life time story to show
i guess i'll have to spend my entire life to watch them all.


i guess i need 3 hours for my own movie.

Sunday.

im starting to appreciate Sundays more
like i'm supposed to.

this is the day when u can sleep,
long enough for the sunlight that shine through the half opened windows to warm you up
you dont have to open your eyes even if ure awake,
you rather force yourself into sleep knowing it is too early no matter what time it is,
and waking up without having to worry the condition of the hair, haha
knowing today belongs only to you.

you can sip some coffee beside the window with your favorite music playing along
you can just stare outside the window looking for clouds that shaped like her face
you can jump back into the bed anytime, but u wouldnt want to.

and so, u spent the day when the clock moves slower than usual
and the pace of the earth's few second lagging,
without having any plan in ur head
i painted
i sang for awhile
i called home for some family warmth.

this beautiful little Sunday,
my beautiful little Sunday,
you deserve a beautiful weather, just like this.


i deserve an ordinary Sunday, just like this

im writing this in my office.

im writing this in my office,
no, i dont go online in the office,
im writing using my imaginary pen
and the mind is my paper scrambled with alphabets and words
this is the only way i can write anytime and anywhere i want

Second day, third day,
i'd say everything is fine
i realised that im starting to get used to this new life
which i dont want to get used to
but along this years i found out that our body and mind tend to adapt to things as time goes by
whether u like it or not

*learning how to control the stomach that grumbles at 4.15pm
forgetting my latest addiction of swimming pool water
and not letting the romeo of my ears meet juliet's music

i witness the changes, every little bits of them indeed
fading away in slow-mo,
what can i do to stop this?
or should i just let it be?
,knowing that im helplessly stranded in the 21st floor of life?

i know one day, one fine day
when i will live the life i wanted to live again
for now,
i carefully unattached them as a part of me
i know that fine day,
i will breathe the air the way i want again.



life is not giving me a chance to miss you

but i did.

im just a cuckoo clock.

i cant believe i sold my freedom over a pile of bank notes
i started working today, in an office
it was indeed like being trapped in a traffic, for 8 fucking hours
and along the 8 hours, u have to work mentality and physically

is it true that money can only be exchanged with freedom?


i cant believe i sold my freedom over a pile of banknotes
does my freedom only worth that little money?
or im just a cuckoo clock who thought he worth golds?
is this the nature of the adult life?
which everyone have lost their enthusiasm for life?


i guess im just not used to be trapped in a place for too long
staring out the office window but without able to breath the air outside the window
is torturing me like watering a thirsty man in a desert but not letting him to drink it

i cant dream whenever i want to
i cant sing whenever i feel like
i cant follow my heart
only because i've asked life to shackle me , and cage me up.


there's one type of bird that will only feel safe by keep on flying and moving on

i guess im that type.

alive.

death,

is a very horrible thing
to those who're alive.

i admit that im afraid of death
i always thought that life is too beautiful to end anytime soon
sometimes i dream of death
they say we always dream of what we fear of happening the most
i'd wake up in horror
to realise im still alive.

i'm afraid of death, do you?


but
there's no such thing as fear once we're dead
cause, we're dead.
if this is the fact,
am i supposed to be afraid?

ask me, i like to help.

Ask me, I like to help

Above is my msn status, offering help to people who needs one.

some asked me if i could tell them how to study
my underage fren asked me what to do if his gf is proposing a breakup
frens asked me to kill their boredom.
one asked me bout types of girl id fall in love with.

another fren asked what form of help that i can give.
thats when i paused awhile to think
what can i give? what do i have with me now? nothing special?
online consultation perhaps?
any subject other than maths and anything that deals with number
haha.

it has been two days since i offer free help.
so many questions and doubts i tried to answer
no matter they're satisfied or not

I'm almost out of answers...



at last,
no one understood,
whats in the lighthouse man's mind.



i wish i could help,
but heaven knows i'm the one who sought for one.

just another bad hair day.

Its time to cut my hair again
suddenly feels that to cut short is a waste of money and time

its always hard to get the perfect length i want
when there's perfection, i wont last long
thats why i cut it over and over again,
with the thought that it will look better, ill be very satisfied the next time
and the days after a visit to the saloon,
the hair lives in a condition which even he himself cant recognize himself



but for the sake of keeping it until an unacceptable length and cutting it again

i chose to bear with it.



i hate my hair,
i love my hair.

end of the road.

i stared at nothing,
looking at each alphabet like wondering how they was originated
reading the sentence over and over again
hoping that something new will pop up in my brain
where all the facts i memorized were used up

its my fault
i shouldn't have over-listened boys ii men songs
instead of remembering the organization structure of a salesforce
all i could remember was every single line in boyz II men's "end of the road"
and the melody keeps playing again and again in my head
and so i made up senseless story of lovers reaching the end of the road
and jumped into the river of love
how absurd it is to have such stupid thought at such important couple of hours.



it is indeed the end of the road for me.