“Kenapa pandang saya macam tu?”

The thing is I never truly say how much I love this guy. I’m not sure if he knows. Well, I’m not sure I know either.

I'm not a songwriter, not even a poet. So I write. 

It started off dengan absurdity yang maksima but what’s normal in this messed up world isn’t? If normal relationship begins with “Hai, nak kenal. Sudi tak awak jadi yang sah untuk saya?”

Tolong sumbat saya dengan apam balik sampai tercekik dan mati. I had enough of that.

Everybody’s messed up, why bother to be normal? Why not fall in love instead? :3

I like the way he pretended not to care when I fall sick but silently order air suam dan Panadol.

I like the way he secretly create songs for me.

I like the way he covertly tells the whole world about me.

I like the way he always say I’m ugly but silently whisper “Awak cantik”.

I like the way he always pick a fight with me.

I like the way he call me all sort of ridiculous names. 

“Hoi compact!" |"Mok, buatkan air!" | "Nestle, jumpa nanti.” :)

I like the way he always make a point that I’m a 90’s.

“Muka awak macam Alien Workshop terbalik.”

“Alien workshop tu apa?”

“Hehh. So 90’s”

"What's your fucking problem?"

"Hehh, 90's."  -.-

I like the way we agree to disagree on almost everything.

We never put hope in the future because both of us gone through the same cliché before.

We’re the how, why, where, when, what we love.

This relationship may not be the last but screw ambiguity aye?

Tiada yang pasti. Kalau nak kepastian, pasti tak bercinta.

“Kenapa pandang saya macam tu?”

"Saya jatuh cinta dengan awak berkali-kali."

My name is you, and i speak for you.

Pemuzik : Manusia Tidak Normal

Amboi tajuk. Kemain. Haha.

I had a conversation with a 25 years old, secure, career lady baru baru ni and it kinda stroke me. The conversation goes like this.

“U ada boyfriend ke?”

“Ermm.. haha. Ada kot.”

“Kot? Dia kerja apa?”

“Ermmm.. he’s a musician.”

“Oh dulu I pernah jugak dated a musician. In fact I dated the whole band and the band broke off because of me. I bercinta dgn dia punya drummer mula-mula.. bla..bla..bla..bla..”

“Haha. Kool. So sekarang u dah ada boyfriend tak?”

“I’m engaged. Kahwin tahun depan.”

“Oh great. So dia musician jugak ke macam mana?”

“Oh tak tak. Dia lelaki normal.”

Suara hati gua: normal? Normal?? NORMAL??!

I’m fascinated with the definition of normality nowadays.

Define normal. Kerja yang tetap? Gaji 5 angka? Rumah 3 tingkat ada lif? Kereta kilat kilat boleh buat cermin? Ke macam mana?

Jadi kalau gitar atau drumstick kat tangan, amp dalam beg, kereta penuh dengan kabel, tak dikira normal? Abnormal? You tell me about it.

Dulu saya dibesarkan dengan definisi normal yang amat simple: ‘ada 2 tangan, 2 kaki, 2 mata, 2 telinga, 1 hidung, boleh jalan, boleh makan’

Kalau abnormal maknanya kurang upaya, tak boleh jalan, tak cukup tangan.

Sekarang normal seems like a big word isn’t?

Menurut google, normal didefinisikan sebagai ‘mengikut standard norma, tipikal, ordinary, common, usual.”

Jadi maknanya pemuzik tidak mengikut standard? Standard apa? Ditetapkan siapa?

Saya tahu, way of living have changed, mentality changed, perception changed, thus standard changed. Evolution cause people to change, I get that. In this materialistic era, saya faham orang nak cari the sense of security. Atau lebih mudah, yang berduit. Terjamin masa depan. *cough*

Tapi bila isu ‘normal’ dibangkitkan, saya dah tak faham. Kalau dia cukup anggota badan tapi pemuzik, maknanya abnormal?

Frank Sinatra is abnormal, Morissey is abnormal, Kurt Kobain is abnormal, Bob Marley is abnormal, Thom Yorke is abnormal, Brandon Flower is freaking abnormal. If every musician in the whole wide world is abnormal, secara langsungnya semua music dalam dunia pun tak normal.  Kalau music, benda yang universal macam tu pun dah abnormal, then the whole freaking world is insane.

Who’s normal then? You? 

A Fragmented Story of Sid and Nancy #5

“Mariam! Let’s go!”

Mariam knows that she has to finish up the story. She has to put extra details on how Laila killed her father, making it seems real. Besides, she has to tell what happen next that Laila could still stay around after murdering her own biological father. Perhaps she could say that Laila is still a young kid and medically proven that she has mental illness. So she was kept away in a mental hospital for a few years then was let out. Well, she is still thinking of the possibilities.

Agh, she sighs. She still needs to tell why Anna and Laila have to move around one place after another. Yes, she murdered someone of course.  Perhaps she should tell the readers about Laila’s addiction to killing. Cats, dogs or at the worse-- human. The fact that Laila likes the thrill, she likes the look of the victims face when she kills them. Nah, too cliché, too Jack the Ripper. Maybe Laila is a fan of art and her killing is a work of art. That sounds classier, at least, or maybe corny. Euw.

Ah, she could just be plain mad, on the other hand. And the reason why she is able to stick around after what she had done is only because she has Anna to clean up the mess and protect her. That’s more authentic.

Sigh. Mariam shook her head.

The protagonist of her story, Laila, always comes in her dream lately. She seems so vivid, so real. She can feel her green hair, she can see the bruises on her body and her indifferent pale face. She is just the way she had imagine her. She can see her almost everywhere. She can’t tell if it’s just an imagination or the opposite. 

“Siti Mariam Laila! Do you have to make me call your full name for you to listen to me? Please come down now. You are going to be late!” her mother yelled from downstairs.

She is wondering if she should give a fine resolution to the story or just a fragmented one. But she knows how it will end for Sid and Nancy, for sure. Sid would not kill Nancy this time. 

“Hey Ahmad, wait for me in about 20 minutes time.” Click.

 *

So yeah, that's the end of my first complete fiction. ulala. sorry it took me forever to upload the rest of the episodes. thanks for waiting (gila perasan) for the rest of it. i hope you like it. and yes i hope you didn't understand the story. haha. well, that's the whole point isn't? it's a fragmented story with a twisted ending so you could figure out and construct your ending as you like. 

jadah apa skema sangat Hanis ni? bahaha. 

i guess i'm just too caught up with my thesis, i have 3 weeks left to finish my final semester. bless my soul. phewww. oh ya, alang alang cakap pasal thesis, i would like to share a bit. kekonon nak show off lah, nampak macam educated sikit perempuan crack ni. haha.

the title of my thesis is,

Psychoanalysis approach: Tweens Identity Formation in Dear Dumb Diary by Jim Benton

if you dont know what tweens are, its actually between a child and a teenager. kira macam pre-teenager lah. the text i'm analysing is a comedy graphic novel (its sooooo Hanis) with a lot of slapstick humor, crack jokes, swearing and doodles. hee. 

yang penting sekarang ni, nampak tak teori apa saya guna untuk thesis saya? Psychoanalysis. ya. orang yang psycho sahaja yang akan guna teori ni. nampak tak permainan dia dekat situ? 

guys, i miss you. i'll try to update as frequent as possible yah. just, dont run away. :)

A Fragmented Story of Sid and Nancy #4

Sid swam happily in the aquarium while Nancy was stuck between the mini coconut tree figuring. She’s too small, as if she never grows. She is exactly the size of fifty cents and her shell is still so green. To compare to Sid who grew bigger than a palm with a brown-ish shell, Laila always thought there is something wrong with her. She stirred the water using a knife that was smeared with blood. The water in the aquarium turns red. She took the turtle pallets and chopped it, like a professional chef. She thought it will be easier for Nancy to chew, since she has a tiny mouth.

God, she missed her mom. Now why would God have anything to do with this?

“Ha ha ha,” Laila laughed with tears streaming down her cheek. She finds it funny to miss her mom, her nag, her mumbles, her sigh, her voice, her laugh, her smile; just after six minutes of killing her. She turned around to check if Anna is still there behind the door, sitting with her eyes wide open and a bleeding hole in her stomach. Laila waved at her mother and smiled. Her mom didn’t wave back, of course.

     She put the chopped pallets in the aquarium and walked to the bed. She checked her phone and threw it away when there’s no reply from him. She started to make negative assumptions, a lot of questions spinning in her head. She dropped her body on the bed, lying down still. As still as her mother. She was so stressed out when her mother came to her room to give her the pills she need to take after couple of hours. She was waiting intensely for the reply. When Anna comes in, she keep asking her again and again, “Where’s is he? Where is he? Where is Ahmad mom?” Her voice is so high that her blood rushed to her face.

“Calm down Laila. There is no Ahmad. We’ve talked about this. Ahmad is not real, he is not real, Laila,” she repeated herself. When she saw her daughter looking down at the floor, she held her shoulder and wiped her tears. “There’s only you and me, puppet. I’m here, I’m always here am I?”

“He came in last night, you know. When you are asleep. He walked pass your room and came to mine. Look here,” she showed her the bruises, “he did this to me. So much for surreal ha?” She smirks. She pushed Anna’s hand off her shoulder.

“Oh my God, where do you get this?” Anna panicked. The blue-greenish bruise is worse than the last time. “Why Laila? Why do you keep doing this? Enough already! I don’t even know my daughter anymore,” she cried.

“I didn’t do it! Can’t you listen to me, I didn’t do it! He did! Why can’t you trust me for a second mom? Why do you hate me so much?” Laila yelled at her mother, defending herself.

“Stop it!” Anna slapped her.

Laila backed off and she took the knife that she kept under her pillow and stabbed her mother before she could scream. Anna held her injury, pressing it hard to give her a little more time while she looked at Laila. She brushed her daughter’s hair and cheek, she smiled. She knew the time will come eventually. She couldn’t help it, she loves her too much. She is the only best thing that ever happens to her.

“I’ll always love you, puppet.” Anna said under her breath before fell down to the floor.

Laila didn’t cry at all. She put the knife on the aquarium and dragged her behind the door. She didn’t want Ahmad to see her.

* 

A Fragmented Story of Sid and Nancy #3

(16 years ago)

“Hey baby girl! Come give daddy a kiss!” Adam said with arm spread open. Laila didn’t move, didn’t even look. “See what I’ve bought you!” Adam tried again. Laila looked up and that makes Adam so happy. Laila saw a brown bear wrapped in a see-through wrapper with a purple ribbon. She smiled.

“Come and give me a hug and you can get Mr. Teddy,” the 21 years old father said. He’s quite a looker, that’s where Laila got her brownish hair from.

Laila walked towards him and snatched the teddy bear away. Perhaps Adam wasn’t expecting the situation, so he loose grip of the bear. “Hey, that’s cheating! Where’s my big hug?” Adam teased. Laila was just like a normal 5 years old girl who likes teddy bear, or so he thought.

Adam played with her hair and asked, “Do you like Mr.Teddy?” Laila didn’t nod nor shake her head, she just looked at it. “I love you munchkin, you’re my favorite wonders of the world.” drops of tears can be seen at his eyes.

Laila managed to open the big purple ribbon, so she gave him a big smile. Adam thought he saw an angel smiling so he took her in his arm, hugging her with full of love. “Oh Laila,” he muttered.

That is when Laila strangled him with the purple ribbon. She strangled him so hard till Adam couldn’t breathe. It was difficult for him to push her aside because of the cramped space between the sofa and the television cabinet. Besides that, Laila was standing before him while he was kneeling. Thus their position gives Laila the stronger stand.

Laila twisted her hand with the purple ribbon, making the grip tighter. Adam is gasping for air, he tried to pull her away but she was gripping on him so tightly. Her strength was unbelievable. Adam runs out of air and his body becomes weak. Laila still gripped the ribbon tightly at her father’s neck even though her father stopped struggling. She lowered down her head to whisper.

“My name is Ahmad, daddy,” she smiled and kiss him on the cheek.

That was her first murder.

* 

A fragmented Story of Sid and Nancy #2

She stretched her arm and shook her long hair. She colored it green towards the tip of her hair, and kept it black from the root to the middle part of it. She can still remember how shocked her mom was when she saw her green hair. She tried to hide it in the beginning, tying it up in a bun, but while later, she decides not to bother.  She’s 21 years old; she’s legal to get her hair colored.

She played her favorite song from Sex Pistols in her playlist, ‘God Save the Queen’, and turned the volume to the loudest. Her mom was not in the house, you see. It’s not like she would care if her mom got angry, she even like the idea of pissing her mom off. But she just hate the thought of her mom will come up to her room, pound her door and nag about being deaf in 20 years time. Blergh.

She walked towards Sid and Nancy, and took the video camera to charge the battery. She checked the recorded video but there was no sign of the killing yet. She noticed that Sid has grown bigger than Nancy so she took Nancy out from the aquarium and gave extra pallets to her. Just to be fair, or as fair as it needs to be. She looked closely at Nancy to check if there was some kind of bruise or injury like how she realized there was a blue-greenish bruise on her arm this morning. None. She wondered where she got that bruise but she can’t even remember the time she got in last night.

Then, she smiled.

She picked up her phone and wrote a message, “Were you here last night?”

Message sent.

*