Poem?

I decided to just try out since I am reading, more like trying to read Khalil Gibran.



And before I leave I shall say to their faces,

You have forsaken me.

And you couldn’t accept me,

For the spite that I am.


And I say to their faces,

I will come back

As someone more distinguished.

Than I could ever have dreamt of.


And if I do not,

I come back still

As the parasite that you used to despise.

But with one thing for certain;

There won’t be friendship for you from my kind, forever.

Slow night, So Long

My day was an awful one. The type that made you feel miserable and useless, even the voice in my head echoed saying something insulting. I decided that listening to some music would be beneficial while I lay down to take my mind off – of things. And that was what I did.

There’s nothing better than to just sleep the problems off, I thought to myself. Having heard someone said it before. Surprisingly, despite the troubles I had in my mind it felt really relaxing lying down and it calmed me. The music however wasn’t very relaxing. That was when I realized I had too many songs and that most of them weren’t very encouraging. I turned the music off, returned to where I laid and got back into position.

As I was laying there I felt that I was more alert than usual. I could hear the beatings of my heart and the parts of my body that ached were sharp. I was very conscious of the fact that I was lying down and my senses were responsive to my every moves. I guess I felt more alive at that moment. I could feel myself going into a deep sleep. I was in a tiny room that could fit 2 people at the most.

Without any windows and the part of the door which was covered by glass was fully clad by a piece of thick cloth. The light wasn’t lit. It was dark, the air was warm. I spread my hands searching for soft materials that could be used as a pillow.

My eyes were closed now, not wanting to think too much of anything. This time it worked, I wasn’t thinking of anything. I was happy for that and I almost smiled in my sleep. That was a lie. A friend told me that there is no one period that the brain stops thinking even when you’re asleep. At least I wasn’t thinking of the problems that were bestowed upon me, the problems I inflicted to myself. My thoughts now funnily enough drifted back to where a close friend told me about some of his thoughts and mainly about his journey to work. This was a few years back and he no longer works at the same place. This is his story:

“Just like every evenings where I had to go to work on my evening shift. Wait, this was after the experimenting and finally I found the fastest route. So, just like every evening where I had to go to work on my evening shift I’d pass the same route, the same road and almost all the time the same weather. I began to observe the surroundings around me. That’s because when you walk there’s nothing much you can do but to observe everything that happens in sight. It’s something that I’d say inevitable.

The path that I take is not one with beautiful greeneries, covered with huge shady tress with colorful flowers and fresh/clean air. It had very little green and all in all it was all tar, dust and smoke. Nonetheless, I liked it when I had to walk to work; I liked to think that it’s one of those rare moments where I get to be alone and get better acquainted with myself. While that is true, I really didn’t have any other options to get there. “A man’s life is to do the things he doesn’t like in order to keep others happy.” What a sleazy way of thinking.

There weren’t much that I could observe and learn from. Mainly because I wasn’t interested in the surroundings, there was nothing appealing about it. Sometimes, only sometimes I get to witness something interesting like people arguing, people fighting, and accidents. Most of the times I was just thankful that nothing bad happened to me like get hit by a car or being chased by dogs.

Amongst all the chaos and the unimpressive experience there, there was a makcik who sold kuihs under a huge shady tree at the end of a cross junction. She worked alone but almost all the time I passed by, she’d be accompanied by a Chinese lady. Sometimes the Chinese lady would fry the kuihs for the makcik as she deal with other chores. But what I realized was that they were always together.

That wasn’t a bad goodnight story I thought and soon enough I drifted away sleeping at the surau in the office.