Who? What?

“Damn it, I over slept.” He said to himself. He shook his head in mild disgust and at the same time getting himself out of slumber. “I thought that it would just be a brief nap but I over slept perhaps the weather, the weather was just too endearing, it wasn’t the best way to enjoy it but the coolness and the air was just too appealing.” Satisfied with his explanation he got up and walked down stairs and within a couple of minutes he was done with his lunch. “I am bored of this food, help me.”

“This is all I seem to do now work and eat. I hope I’d manage before I turn to a slob.” He seems to be saying this quite often nowadays. He then remembers something then says; “it’s better than having none” About the food.

“He shakes his head in disappointment, as if what I did was a tremendous mistake and it was too much for him to bear. It was his job to deal with the troubles I create unintentionally and make me better, it was his job. Instead you shake your head. Why’d you do that? Why did you get yourself a job that after a few moments you end up shaking your head in disgust? You are sadder than the people who complain about their jobs. For the people who complain, most of them only complain and die complaining.”

People often get into disputes, with each other no matter what the situation or their relationship. It’s perhaps inevitable. Man is a selfish creature and more if not nourished with basics. “I almost lost my temper, I know that I shouldn’t and so far I’ve been disciplining myself and so far it seemed to work. Until that one day when I almost lost it but I didn’t, because I had thought.” After a long pause of thinking, “ do something that you don’t hate, it’s still ok if you don’t like it but if you start shaking your head like an idiot, then its time to get a new job, a better life maybe.” I hope that never applies to me. Please don't.

I am sorry if my way of writing seems to fancy or seemingly seems like I am trying too hard. This is how I feel and this is how I feel like doing it right now, later on if I feel like doing otherwise, I’ll do otherwise.

“When I am sick of work, sick of work, and tired of the world. I read things similar to these to make feel balanced and less like a loser, I don’t know if its healthy but it’s time worthy, And he said; “Of all ridiculous things, it seems to me that the most ridiculous of all is to be busy in the world, to be a man who is prompt for his meals and quick about his work. So when I see a fly perch on the nose of a businessman in a crucial moment, or see him splashed by a wagon which passes him in even greater haste or a roof tile falls and kills him, then I laugh from the bottom of my heart. And how could anyone keep from laughing? What do they accomplish, these busybodies? Aren’t they like a housewife who in her agitation when the house was on fire saved the fire tongs? What more do they rescue from life’s great conflagration?”

“Patience is virtue, impatience is true?” do not take this one seriously I just felt like writing it. Even if it’s true it’s never the thing to act on. On this many would agree, I agree.

He is a follower of blind faith, he follows, he’s worse than a doubter because he does not comprehend. A scary fate awaits one who follows in blind faith. (I would like to elaborate but I don’t think I am in the position)

“The doubter is like a whipped top, he remains like a top on its point only as long as the blow of the whip continues. He cannot stand upright by himself more than a top can.”


You tell me that I am insecure. I have to be that, if I don’t, it’ll be me forgetting my grounds and where I come from, it may never apply to you but it reminds and applies to me all the time. If I am not insecure, I am forgetting myself. Perhaps someday I may find ease and peace. I hope.

Miguel Pinero's seekin' a cause

he was Dead
he never Lived
died
died
he died seekin' a Cause
seekin' the Cause
because
he said
he never saw the cause
but he heard
the cause
heard the cryin' of hungry ghetto children
heard the warnin' from Malcolm
heard the tractors pave new routes to new prisons
died seekin' the Cause
seekin' a Cause
he was dead on arrival
he never really Lived
uptown . . . downtown . . . crosstown
body was round all over town
seekin' the Cause
thinkin' the Cause was 75 dollars & gator shoes
thinkin' the Cause was sellin' the white lady to black
children
thinkin' the cause is to be found in gypsy rose or j. b.
or dealin' wacky weed
and singin' du-wops in the park after some chi-chiba
he died seekin' the Cause
died seekin' a Cause
and the Cause was dyin' seekin' him
and the Cause was dyin' seekin' him
and the Cause was dyin' seekin' him
he wanted a color t. v.
wanted a silk on silk suit
he wanted the Cause to come up like the mets & take the
world series
he wanted . . . he wanted . . . he wanted . . . he wanted
to want more wants
but
he never gave
he never gave

[p. 24]


he never gave his love to children
he never gave his heart to old people
&
never did he ever give his soul to his people
he never gave his soul to his people
because he was busy seekin' a cause
busy
busy perfectin' his voice to harmonize the national anthem
with spiro t agnew
busy perfectin' his jive talk so that his flunkiness
wouldn't show
busy perfectin' his viva-la-policia speech
downtown . . . uptown . . . midtown . . . crosstown
his body was found all over town
seekin' a Cause
seekin' the Cause
found
in the potter fields of an o. d.
found
in the bowery with the d. d. t.'s
his legs were left in viet-nam
his arms were found in sing-sing
his scalp was on Nixon's belt
his blood painted the streets of the ghetto
his eyes were still lookin' for jesus to come down
on some cloud & make everything ok
when jesus died in attica
his brains plastered all around the frames of the pentagon
his voice still yellin' stars & stripes 4 ever
riddled with the police bullets his taxes bought
he died seekin' a Cause
seekin' the Cause
while the Cause was dyin' seekin' him
he died yesterday
he's dyin' today
he's dead tomorrow
died seekin' a Cause
died seekin' the Cause
& the Cause was in front of him
& the Cause was in his skin
& the Cause was in his speech
& the Cause was in his blood
but
he died seekin' the Cause
he died seekin' a Cause
he died
deaf
dumb
&
blind
he died
& never found his Cause
because
you see he never never
knew that he was the
Cause.

“What you think of yourself matters more than what others think of you.”

I just finished reading this particular book for the second time and I enjoyed it as much as I did when I first read it. An old book which yellow in color and seasoned from the years and some of the pages in it no longer attached to its cover, I don’t remember where I got it from but it was just there and I am glad that I chose to read it.

The book entitled Banco, the further adventures of Papillon was written by Henri Charriere in French and was translated by some dude. It’s an autobiography, and one of the best I’ve read.

Having said that, I don’t think or feel like elaborating more on the book. There were many interesting phrases, philosophies, thoughts and opinion that caught my interest. And there was this one that I am particularly attracted in and this was it:

“You aren’t even capable of settling down to living for the sake of living. Is life made up more than never ending battles between men who don’t share the same ideology?

True enough you have had more intellectual training than the more disadvantaged lots, but what of it? What good is it to you since you’re a more stupid bunch of sods than they are? As far as you’re concerns education doesn’t means intelligence, generosity, goodness and understanding but only learning things from the books. If your heart stays dry, selfish rancorous and fossilized, what you’ve learn doesn’t mean a thing. God made the sun, the sea, the vast prairies and the bush, but did he make them just for you?

Do you think you’re a race pre-ordained to organize the world? When I look at you and listen to you, it occurs to me that a world run by poor sods like you will mean nothing but war and revolutions. Because although you say you long for peace and quiet, you only long for it if it agrees with your point of view.”

/ - - \

Until college and minaret have crumbled
This holy work of ours will not be done.
Until faith becomes rejection and rejection becomes belief
There will be no true Muslims.”



It somewhat appeared interesting to me hence I thought I should post it. I found it in a book I was reading at that time. It was written by a scholar by the name Sufi Aba Said Ibn Abi Khair (If I am not mistaken that is.)

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.

Dont Stop

Lately, for some reason I haven’t been reading as much as I would like to. I find it rather disappointing. It’s not that I think that I feel like I am “well-informed” enough that I don’t feel the need to fill my head with new ideas or just entertain myself via reading, I say to myself.

I’ve been feeling weary almost all the time I am awake. There has to be something wrong with the way I am living right now, I say to myself. But at the same time there’s this feeling also in my head saying that, “you’re doing alright.” Seeing that I am somewhat of an optimistic guy I went for the latter.

Although I’d like to blame it on the lack of time I have nowadays and the other easier form of entertainments out there and again the unhealthy lifestyle. I am now thinking that I am actually giving myself some time off from reading. I think too much when I read and I become even skeptical than I already am. For all you know the authors who write books wrote it just for the sake of screwing with your head, I say to myself.

I realize that I read almost about the same stuff I write in my blog. It’s always the same subjects if not something related to it. So, I write basically about the things I’ve read, mostly. I came to a decision that I should expand my horizons by reading on other stuffs so that I’d be more exposed and colorful in the future?

I like to think that I write about how I see the world revolves around me, how I see people walking about around me living their lives in the beliefs they believe in. I like doing that. Perhaps one day I’d study about how the human brain works. But then it might never come to that.

Jumping back to the things I read. When an author writes in his book, whatever he says is right. That’s one of the good things about writing a book, just like the blog you can write anything you want in it and pay the consequences later but the point is you can write what you feel in it and be right in it. That could very well just be a figure of speech.

I rant about the same things over and over again with no real turn outs. But that’s what I like to write about, things that bugs me the most. They say that expressing oneself is crucial. And that is what I am doing. It may be pointless but if it helps at least to keep myself busy and entertain my thoughts those are good enough reasons to me.

“The lives of pre-civilized human nature were one of contentment and benevolence. But when the great human inventions of civilization and private property arrived everything went downhill.”

Artificial need stimulates artificial greed’s. That might just be the thing that’s happening today. However the phrase above might not very well suit the age we live in today. Artificial needs are no longer artificial in the time and age we live in. In our lives it’s a necessity. In a different aspect, you might not be the one with desires towards artificial needs but the people around you and your loved ones certainly do, which makes it no longer artificial. It would also be weird when everyone in the world goes for those needs except for you. That’s the world we live in today. I don’t think that elaborating on it would make any difference and so here are some diversions contrary to what I said just now on how certain beliefs/ views contradict (changing topics):

“We believe that there are always causes for everything, machine breakdowns, plants growing and planets circling. These are all sane beliefs but just beliefs nevertheless.”

However the same person also had doubts about the existence of the self because of its “undetactability.”

The second one: “the paddy fields, its reason to be eaten and so are the animals for food and transportation. The plants/ greeneries provide oxygen. And finally man, who is at the top of the chain. If all the other things has its function and its role, Why do some people think that a man’s existence is purposeless, Without reason?

Hm, what am I doing? I feel that my message is that everyone has their own sets of beliefs and that no matter what; you could almost never change those beliefs? Okay, I feel foolish now, letting people know what they’ve already known since they were born. This entry somewhat like the rest doesn’t really resolve’s anything. I hope that it was at least a beneficial read.

To a friend

I was bored, as usual and I am sure when I say that you won’t be surprised as well. I had a book to accompany me to endure the working hours together with me. I don’t know about others but I can only read for so long. After a few hours I could feel my eyes getting tired and my head getting heavier causing me to lose concentration and mood to continue reading as I am unable to comprehend whatever it is that I am trying to understand. every time I read, the more I read the more knowledge I think(hypothetically) fills up my head and sometimes it feels as if it gets all clogged up and that I need to give it a rest as all the knowledge settles down till my head gets lighter.

This was what I was feeling like, and this was precisely the moment where I’d like to meet friends that passes by or just new faces to get rid of the dizziness and the dullness of the afternoon. I do meet many people but unfortunately most of them are guys, although once in a while someone cute walks along but eventually walks away, they always do. Alright, let’s not get carried away with that.

I meet many foreigners, everyday; this was back then, just the occasional waving and the respectful gestures or a short moment of conversation. Among the many foreigners I met there was a few I got well acquainted with, one of them was a South African.

After a few months of brisk stops and chatting, it was during the last month of his stay I was invited to watch him perform. Well, truthfully speaking I was invited a long time ago but I only went there during the last the month of his stay. His name was Frank, a musician and he had a band, it’s called “faze 4” if I am not mistaken. These guys were professionals and they played remarkably well. I found myself going there many more times after that, to see them perform.

I wasn’t entirely impressed by the crowd but that’s another story and none of my business. Back to the story, my purpose of writing this entry is to say how thankful I am and I am glad that I’ve got to know you. You’ve said that you wanted to read my blog to know what goes on in my mind, well you’ve read my thoughts. Thoughts can’t be seen but we all know that it’s there, if you know where I am getting with this, haha.

Hope you have a merry life and good times with your kids and lastly, Manchester United is not a good team, Frank.

Thoughts and Quotes...

Many a times before I thought about it yet I tried to by no means entertain the thoughts. It seemed insignificant, unimportant to have come up with something as ridiculous and unneeded. The idea itself, for actually considering, thinking, distinguishing these thoughts made me question my way of thinking and my judgment in general. Every time the thoughts play in my mind I conjure up some other intervening thought to overcome the more mind boggling thoughts.

Time and time again I think about the significance of life and, “From a scientific point of view the significance of life is what it is, why it is and why it does it.” (I read it somewhere). At the moment this was the thought I conjured up to misdirect the previous thought.

I get carried away sometimes, with my thinking, such as this one “Dreams are true while they last, and do we not live in dreams?” this is one of the many examples. The more one entertains the words, the more one tries to come up with definite answers which in my case I succumb to ruthless failure.

I do agree on/with other people thoughts at times, such as the ones I stated before and these, “Sometimes your best way to deal with shit is not to hold yourself as such a precious little prize.” Though, when it comes to applying I admit that it is often easier said than done.

Jumping to when a friend sighed, “When am I going to be successful in life?” I wanted to ask what type of success? What do you mean by it? But I knew what he meant. So I kept my mouth shut.

Jumping to when I was reading a different book in the last few pages this part caught my attention, “I mixed with rich people but never did I grudge their wealth. But seeing them spend money like paper. I am gripped by a total sense of confusion and ignorance, the mixed feeling of wanting to be like them and at the same time not wanting to be like them. The contrast with my own imperfect life pinches me with the force of a physical hurt. I wonder what it feels like to have no desire left because you have satisfied them all. Smothered with wealth before even you were born, you act as if you deserve this and that and that you earned this life but in reality you are the same as I am only (at the moment) luckier in many ways and you carry yourself proudly in a dignified way. I think to myself that you’re only lucky. I think to myself you don’t think like I do and so you don’t realize that you’re lucky”. I think to myself I’ve a lot to learn and hope that I can understand myself better.

The part also includes this significant sentence, at least to me, which plays a crucial part in lives, “I realized that dreams have power only over your own mind but with money you can have power over the mind of others.”

According to a learned man, “ordinary people are like prisoners permanently trapped in a
Dark cave and forced to watch a shadow puppet play which they think is “real”. We are like these prisoners indoctrinated from birth that everyday experience is all there is.” I include myself in the ordinary people category not wanting to sound humble but everyday experience seems to be the things that matter most yet in hope that I’d be one of the rebels who escapes into the daylight and soon find out that there’s a “more real” world outside and if there is one and if possible escape that one too and find out there’s a “more realer world.”

Occasionally when I read something like this one, this type of thought too can be troublesome if one such as I try to come up with something close to an answer. “I found out that my senses lies to me. They inform me that a straight stick in water is bent. Hence, there is no conclusive way to prove all my experiences aren’t just hallucinations or dreams.”

I’ve been troubled by this one lately. Recently when someone told me that, wait…perhaps it was me who brought this thought to myself. “You have a king’s heart but a peasant’s fortune.” It could’ve meant many things. After a few moments of breathing diaphragmatically and closing my eyes with more deep breathing I decided not to dread on it anymore. I don’t have a king’s heart. That’s what I said to myself.

“If you’ve ever been to a mountain you know you can stand on the ground look up and see a mountains peak. Think of this as your point of view. But if you get to the peak of the mountain, an amazing thing happens. As you look out from the summit, you suddenly realize that there are many-many more mountains (point of views) none of which you could see previously.”

“The perfect use of language is that in which every word carries the meaning that it is intended to, no less and no more.” Yes, this too I got from a book I read which also explains the inverted commas, which also I assume you’ve already realized. Coming back to the quote, I completely agree with it but at the same time I’d also like to state that I don’t write to impress you. I might try to impress myself but I very rarely impress myself and even when I do it doesn’t last for long.

I have a deep fear of changing into something I dislike hence I write to remind myself about the things I thought of and the way I think of things and if I do change this is proof that I once thought this way.

Finally, I realized that as usual, the more I think/write the more confused/lost I get. Anyhow it was nonetheless time passing and I might even add entertaining. Finally-finally I realized that Japanese people aren’t really impressed (neither do they act/look like the characters in the animes) when you tell them that you’ve seen almost every single animes existed and that you love their music, dramas and movies (not their culture though). But I am still looking forward to meet some kawaai Japanese girls. Okay, this paragraph, unlike the previous paragraphs above is written to impress cute Japanese or Korean girls. This is an exemplary of some of the thoughts I come up as a diversion to the other more confusing thoughts, I guess. Sekian.



Boring is good?

I was fascinated and it somewhat made sense. I re-read it a few times and finally decided that I should write it down. To remind myself or to just uphold on what I once thought was worth re-reading and writing and hope that ill still believe in self improvement and erm stuff like that, so here goes.

However, it would just be brief (the writings) and somewhat incomplete. It is more like a short review of what this guy believed. Kierkegaard (the philosopher) believed that there were three different forms of life. He himself used the form stages. He calls them the aesthetic stages, the ethical stages, and the religious stage. He used the term stage to emphasize that one can live at one of the two lower stages and then suddenly leap to a higher stage. Many people live at the same stage all their life.

He who lives at the aesthetic stages lives for the moment and grasp every opportunity of enjoyment. Good is whatever beautiful, satisfying, or pleasant. This person lives wholly in the world of the senses and is a slave to his own desires and moods. Everything that is boring is bad.

The typical Romantic is thus also the typical aesthetic, since there is more to it than pure sensory enjoyment. A person who has a reflective approach to reality or for that matter to his art or the philosophy he or she is engaged in – is living the aesthetic stage. It is even possible to have an aesthetic or ‘reflective’ attitude to suffering and sorrow.

A person who lives at the aesthetic stage can easily experience angst, or a sense of dread and a feeling of emptiness. If this happens, there is also hope. According to Kierkegaard, angst is almost positive. It is an expression of the fact that the individual in an ‘existential situation’ and now can elect to make a great leap to a higher stage. But it either happens or it doesn’t. It doesn’t help to be on the verge of making the leap, if u don’t do it completely. It is a matter of either/ or. But nobody can do it for you. It’s your own choice. It’s a little like deciding to quit drinking or doing drugs. And just thought I’d add this one although it is unnecessary, Socrates said, “All true insight comes from within”.

Having written that down, I will stop and hope that ill read this once in a while.

An Interesting Topic

I remembered the times when I was young and being very much afraid of the dark. It was, I suppose an innate feeling that the young was brought up with. It was more or less an incomprehensible feeling which, back then I didn’t thought of questioning. It was perhaps the blackness which without any source of light that blinded visions and the familiar place and feeling becomes strange and unknown.

I used to snuggle up my mother when I was scared or even not. It was reassuring, and it worked all the time. The darkness emitted through the night accompanied by the strange scary noises that only came with the night. The same familiar noises, only sometimes something strange happen to happen.

I clearly remember this particularly peculiar night where a strange looking woman, clad in all white with whiteness enveloping and protruding around her. She looked translucent but nonetheless real. I wasn’t sure what the time it was then and at that time or that age I wasn’t scared not even surprised. The only feeling that I remembered feeling was curious. I woke my sleeping mother, whom back then I figured I couldn’t live without. As a matter of fact I still feel that way, only difference is I used to stick around her following her every movement and steps, sticking to her like glue. Nowadays, I guess the growing up process and the constant lessons of life which some what makes people bitterer and selfish made me more distant with everyone.

Suddenly it seems as though, you’re losing direction and the only way to not get lost is to go about doing what everyone’s doing, been doing and will be doing. That too, I am concluding, to avoid the negative stares and the bad mouth of people. People living their lives without knowing their purpose and direction seem to be the trend or the preferred option.

Jumping back to when I saw the strange woman when I was a small kid. I wake my mother up. She woke up and I was sure she saw the woman standing directly in front of me giving out an almost sweet smile in the darkness almost lighting up the small room. Come to think about it, I am not sure whether the figure was a man or a woman. Her features were of a woman I dare say. ‘What does the woman wants?’ I asked my mother. I am sure my mother saw what I saw, I saw a glimpse of surprise on her face, but she told me to go back to sleep and drifted back to sleep herself.

I still eyed the still figure, still smiling, still white and still looking at me not telling me her reason of being there, in front of me. I got bored of her and dozed off.

Jumping back to when I was afraid of the dark and the blackness of the night. I was saying that I was scared of the dark, scared of the dark spirits that roams the night suddenly appearing just for the sake of scaring me and perhaps scarring me into being afraid of them for the rest of my life. But the growing up process accompanied with the bitter revelations of life makes one grow up and to not believe in such nonsensical beliefs. More frankly, excuse the exaggeration; just the growing up process does that.

Leaping to when I am older and considerably wiser compared to when I am younger. I no longer find the darkness frightening despite the fact that I still can’t see through it. I am pretty much sure that it is the same as when it is bright.

I find the blackness to be comforting and peaceful. Trying to escape the light and falling into oblivion. But most of the times, the life from the other side seems to steal its way in and emit a random story, most of the times its purpose is to scare. And most of the nightmares happen during the day, giving night a bad name.

There was this one time, it was an afternoon. I was at my work place and I was just finished with my prayers. I was making my way to the exit which is also the entrance. And there was this man in a wheel chair blocking the way. The man had a normal face, but his legs were like a Childs: Tiny and in this case not cute. Seeing that he was blocking the way I almost knowingly took hold of the wheel chair by its handle and helpfully pushed it outside. Once outside, I asked the man in the wheel chair, ‘where do you want to go?’ not thinking at that moment how he got there in the first place. He then looked at me dubiously and said, ‘I need help. I need to go to the toilet’. A selfish thought flew by, what have I dragged myself into.

I was now pushing the wheel chair towards the nearest men’s toilet. I wasn’t thinking much at the moment. All I knew was I was doing a good deed. As we reached the toilet and as I was ready to leave the poor man at the toilet, suddenly he said, ‘I need to pee.’ I remained calm and held the handles to the wheel chair and pushed him into one of the toilet cubicles. I chose the one at the farthest, for no particular reason. I then tried to push the wheel chair but after several attempts of trying to push it in and failing miserably for the simplest reason. The wheel chair was too big for the cubicle. The man hurriedly emptied his wheel chair filled with books and other stuff I could barely remember. He then unbuckled his pouch and handed it over to me. I placed it near the sink and what he uttered next made me extremely rigid and needless to say uncomfortable.

‘Would you mind?’ I stared at him blankly afraid of the obvious but at the same time feeling a dreadful sympathy towards the poor man. ‘Take of my pants’. I was now fiddling with his zip and trying really badly to remove the pants with minimal contact. It smelled spunky and urinated on. Ignoring the gaze of the other guys who were using the toilets I succeeded in taking his pants off after several embarrassing attempts and there he was in front of the toilet cubicle, naked and apparently desperate to pee. For some reason the next words that came out from him was somewhat relieving. ‘jangan pandang, malu.’ So I moved away and gladly looked away.

So here was this guy on a wheel chair situated in front of a toilets cubicle and pissing his brains off. It’s not as funny as it sounds, really. It lasted for quite sometime though. So after he was done urinating no where near any bowl. I almost on queue got hold of the wheel chair pulled him back and led him to the sink for him to wash his hands off. I then spent nearly 5 minutes trying to get his pants on back (I prefer not to go into details here). By the time I was done, I was sweating and feeling a little bit dirty and used. I then replaced his goods and pushed him out of the toilet feeling accomplished.

He said his thank yous and I with my it’s okays. ‘Where do you want to go now?’ I asked. He said, ‘this is good enough, I can manage on my own.’ I walked out feeling lucky as ever and somewhat more thankful at least for the moment. The evening ended as normally as my boring evenings do. I didn’t think about what happened later. But I knew I was scarred and that I'll never forget that incident. I didn’t go to work the next day, had a fever.

p/s Erk, takde masa…to be continued..kot.
















Help!

He reached home, slightly wet from the rain that just started to pour down. He felt gratified although drenched with wetness and tired from his journey. He had more plans that night. That Saturday night; he wanted to spent it to the fullest and completely forget about his normal routine.

He made his way to his room. Opened the door to it and as he set foot in his room, the familiar feeling and scent of his room made him feel safe and belonged. The room was dark influenced by the dark clouded skies; the dreary atmosphere in the room made him feel dull and bored. He felt the exhaustion that had been riding him, now began to make him feel sleepy and his eye lids were heavy, begging to be closed. He decided to take a nap. His skin was sticky from perspiration of the afternoon heat and the rain. His body too was still hot from the heat before and made him feel unsettled.

Dirty and dusty his room now became a playground for tiny creepy-crawly insects, especially cockroaches. He cursed when he saw them running swiftly past him, making it their own home. He was too tired and his bones were too heavy even to move an inch. So the pests were free to roam as much as they liked.

Half naked he laid on the empty parquet floor empty for the exception of the dusts, cobwebs and the insects crawling. His hands spread out like wings and his legs spread wide. He liked that position, it made him feel free. He closed his eyes and was soon in an uneasy, uncomfortable sleep in which he still felt awake and as usual, thoughts were lingering through his head, passing through without any notion, just constantly moving. It didn’t do him any good yet he couldn’t help it. He didn’t feel like going out anymore. This was good. He was falling into a deep slumber; he gave a slight smile oblivious of it. This feeling was the best. And just then his phone rang.

They sat in a chair where its seat and the back area alone were cushioned. The rest were made of steel. They were in a mamak restaurant. The environment in there was not as noisy as the rest of the more 'hip' mamaks. It was more to their preference. The waiters and waitresses were rushing hurriedly at the customer’s orders and demands. The sound of metal made by the clash of fork and spoon on the silver plates accompanied by voices of chattering and music from the TV filled the place. The friends ordered their drinks and were eyeing around as if searching for something. Mark finally said, ‘this sucks, there’s no chicks around.’ The other friend stared around and nodded in approval.

The waiter came and went after leaving their orders on the table almost delicately. The place was properly emitted with bright lights and aired with mist fans. They made themselves comfortable and took tiny sips from their drinks and stared at each other blankly for a moment. They did that for a few minutes not knowing what to say. They felt like strangers, Sherry then as if from a long thought finally asked, “so, how’s work?” his tone was hurried but soft as if he weren’t sure of the question. Mark replied, clearly happy that they were talking, “hm, well I try to cope and manage cant complain; I don’t think it’s a big deal though seeing that everyone does it.” He waited for Sherry’s reply but when he received none he continued, “Isn’t that right? ‘He asked Sherry to get his approval. Sherry made a frown and said, “erm, yea I guess you can say that, it depends on the individual I think. Good to know that you’re doing well though.”

With that they were once more silent and they just sat there gazing at the other customers. The closeness and trust they once had was not there, at least at that moment. The friends didn’t know of what to talk about. They never really did agree much with each other even though they got along fine with one another for a very long time. It was one of those complicated friendships.

The noise coming from the other tables were now more visible than before. Mark twisted about his seat and looked at Sherry. It was his turn now to make conversation, he thought, then said, “So, how’s your job, good?”, and before Sherry could answer he said, “your job sucks dude, I can’t do what you do.” Sherry then with a look of irritation in his face answered, “Well hey, to be honest with you it really does suck, but I need the money, that’s the motivation. And you too, you fuck, you are into it because of the money too, everyone’s the same, at least that’s what I think.” He then ended with a short laugh; “Ha-ha” he said that with contempt and angry confidence. It was a trait of Sherry’s to end most of his sentence with a, “ha-ha”. Why he does it no one knows, although some claim that it was genealogically inherited

“Ha-ha-ha, relax dude, don’t get carried away.” Mark smiled at him as he said that. Sherry’s white face now turned red with emotion and his eyes looked livid, “ill be honest with you and tell you this, I hate everything that I am going through, I feel like a fucking hypocrite.” His expression was serious and his forehead amidst the mist fans began to let out tiny perspirations. Mark clearly wasn’t expecting this. He tried to look concerned though. Sherry then continued, “I am an honest person, at least I believe I am and I try my best to live an honest life, But.” he paused for a second and continued, “my job requires me to lie and to swindle people into believing what I want them to believe. Of course it’s remarkable to make people believe in what you want them to believe, but that’s not the point here.” “Let’s stay on the subject then my friend.” Mark said slyly, obviously not interested in what his friend was saying. Sherry nodded and continued, “Well the point is my way of earning contradicts with my beliefs, it makes me feel kind of like a hypocrite. He took a sip of his drink and said, “You know what I mean?”

Mark looked blankly at him and said, “Yeah, I guess so. So what’s the big deal? That’s how it is nowadays; you can’t always stick to your beliefs and be yourself, just think of it as a sacrifice. I know that I am not helping much but there isn’t much you can do about it.” “Well, yes, you didn’t help at all but thanks anyways. Ill just try to cope with it and live with the guilt that would eventually kill Me.” sherry responded.

Just then, Sherry’s phone ranged. He picked it up and he was muttering something to the phone and when he was finished talking to the phone, he said coolly, “Dark, is coming”. “Oh, okay.” He replied.

“Dude, since you told me about what was bothering you. Would you mind if I talked about this thing that has been troubling my mind for quite some time now.” Mark said softly trying to confide his eagerness. “No. not at all, I’d be interested in hearing what you have to say.” Mark looked around for a while waiting to see if Dark had come. But there were no familiar faces approaching them. Sherry said, “come on man, you don’t have to be ashamed, you can tell me anything you want.” He then quickly added, “Well not everything, come to think about it. ha-ha.” he laughed out hoping that Mark would get his point. “It’s not that, I was hoping that Dark would be here so that it’ll be more…alive? I guess. But seeing that he’s still not here yet I’ll just start. You might think its funny but, I recently found out that I don’t like the way my emotion changes so easily.” He paused for a while to see how Sherry would react and then seeing the expression in sherry’s face he began to chuckle and added, “You think its stupid don’t you?” “Nah, go ahead, I’ll listen. Ha-ha.” Sherry said looking slightly confused and amused at the same time.

Before Mark could continue, Sherry announced, “Dark has arrived, ha-ha”. Dark was wearing a round collared T-shirt and shorts, with sandals. They all dressed alike, it was as though they had a dress code. Reality was that they were too lazy to wear something else. It was simple and comfortable.

Dark ordered his drink and join them. He looked at them and said, “Hello fucks, how’s things?” he questioned and briefly after that added, “What are we talking about here?” amusingly he asked after noticing that both of his friend’s faces looked rather serious. “Shut up and listen then.” Mark said and continued “well, every morning I go to work without eating a single thing and soon enough I began to realize how not eating or consuming anything that would give me energy, effect my emotions.” He paused again to see how his friends would react. Sherry. Still looked disoriented, while Dark was just smirking as though, waiting to say something that would just piss Mark off. Dark then expectantly was first to say something, he said “why do you do that?” he questioned Mark and continued before Mark could answer, “why bother into something that isn’t really relevant in your life, it’s as if you don’t have any problems in your life, that you create one.” Dark, looked at Sherry, waiting for him to agree with him, but sherry ignored him and continued to sip his drink.

“Obviously, it’s my problem now.” Mark said “and it has become more than relevant to me. For instance, I was constantly in a bad mood before eating, when the clock reached around 3 in the afternoon, I began to feel slightly shaky, and my stomach rumbled and started to make noises. I felt really weak and I couldn’t concentrate in whatever it is I tried to do. Although I just sat there idly, my mind was actively complaining and I felt a deep sensation of disturbance in myself, my head just won’t keep still. It just kept becoming worse; all I could think of was to eat. And as usual I succumb to my desires. Immediately after eating I felt better and my emotion was stable and more relaxed.” He stopped and looked at his friends, their expressions now unreadable.

He continued before any of them had the chance to interrupt his talk. “The same thing happens when you’re feeling good and normal and then suddenly someone spills something on your shirt and your mood changes abruptly just like that. He could see that both Sherry and Mark were about to interrupt him. He quickly demanded, “Let me finish.” And continued, “Now, I am not saying that I don’t like having emotions, I am just saying that I don’t know about you guys but my emotions changing so rapidly because of hunger, some petty happenings or because of the weather and just about anything that happens makes me feel less in control of myself. It is as if, instead of me controlling my mind, it’s controlling me, although…there’s this doubt about who’s controlling whom. Bottom line is I’d like to be more in control of my emotions, huh.” He let out as if releasing a heavy burden.

Dark then said, “I think it’s stupid. Its people like you who reads too much and come up with something as disturbing and unneeded as that bullshit you just said.” He finished his words with a look of disgust in his face. He also added, “Your body needs energy to function properly therefore you eat is that so hard to understand?” Mark looked annoyed, but he was used to Darks frankness more like his rudeness. Sherry then said, “hm, you’re an adult and I see the sense in what you were saying. I don’t have anything to say that might help you in your struggle in overcoming your emotions but I do hope you accomplish it and when you do, don’t forget to tell me how you managed to do it, ha-ha.” He finished with a smile on his white face.

The mamak was getting even busier as more people were coming in. it became slightly noisier than before. The friends looked rather cheerful despite the unsettled problems they were facing. Mark then looking at Dark said, “dude, want to tell us about something that’ been troubling you?” Dark looked surprised when Mark asked him that.

Just then, all of a sudden a blind man accompanied by a young girl who held his hand and was leading him was approached their table. They were used to it, it was a normal thing, but just that sometimes it annoys them. The blind mad wore a dark round cap that covered his head and black spectacles that accompanied it. The funny thing about the blind man was that he didn’t look in any way Malaysian at all. His looks were more of a famous British singer. The young girl was dressed in traditional Malay baju kurung and had her tudung on. When the couple came to the table, Dark ignored them; Sherry was already digging into his wallet and Mark stopped himself from reaching into his pocket after witnessing Sherry. Sherry then after looking into his wallet exclaimed, “I don’t have any small change, Mark and Dark now both exchanged looks and Dark motioned with his hand at the beggars as if casting out flees.

Upon looking at this, the young girl whom with the blind man pulled onto the blind mans hand and automatically the blind man brought up the cane that he held. He was now holding the cane with both his hands. The friends noticed that there was a thin string attached to the cane, from one end of the other rubbery edge of the cane. The blind man then muttered, “help.” He stood there for a while as if waiting for a signal. After a moment of stillness, he started strumming the single string attached to his cane. It sounded unnatural as if he was strumming an actual guitar. The sound was vivid and the music was real. The friends looked in awe; they felt as though transported to a different zone. Everything else was silent and still. The blind man now started to sing:

Help, I need somebody,
Help, not just anybody,
Help, you know I need someone, help.
When I was younger,
so much younger than today,
I never needed anybody's help in any way.
But now these days are gone,
I'm not so self assured,
Now I find I've changed my mind and opened up the doors.
Help me if you can,
I'm feeling down,
and I do appreciate you being around.
Help me, get my feet back on the ground,
won’t you please,
please help me?
And now my life has changed in oh so many ways,
my independence seems to vanish in the haze.
But every now and then I feel so insecure,
I know that I just need you like I've never done before.
Help me if you can,
I'm feeling down,
and I do appreciate you being around.
Help me, get my feet back on the ground,
won’t you please, please help me.
When I was younger,
so much younger than today,
I never needed anybody's help in any way.
But now these days are gone,
I'm not so self assured,
Now I find I've changed my mind and opened up the doors.
Help me if you can,
I'm feeling down, and I do appreciate you being around.
Help me, get my feet back on the ground,
won’t you please,
please help me, help me, help me, oh.

When he was finished with his song, he put down the edge of his cane silhouetted with rubber to the ground and everything seemed normal again.The friends now looked at each other shocked by what they just experienced and amazed at the same time. All three of them gave some money to the blind man, for one particular reason, for him to leave. And predictably he left with the girl guiding him out after saying, thank you. The friends sat there gazing at each other unable to describe what they’ve just gone through and more amazingly the crowd didn’t seem to be affected by the blind mans singing. It was as if the rest of the people didn’t know what had just happened. They sat there chattering with their companies and eating their food as normally as people do every day.

“Man, wasn’t that like some weird shit.” Dark finally said. The others, both not nodding but Dark knew that they agreed with him this time. “Let’s not pay too much attention to whatever it is that just happened.” He said. “Oh hey, you asked me whether I have something to say just now, well actually, I do. I’ve been planning to say this for a long time already. “What is it? Ha-ha” sherry questioned, looking interested. Like what Mark just said just now, this has been bugging me. “I didn’t know you could feel that way”, Mark said mockingly while raising his eyebrows.

“Just shut up and listen, I don’t know why, but I just can’t stop being an asshole.” He said, knowing what to expect. The two friends now laughed so hard that the other occupants of the mamaks were looking at them. “Yes, I knew you jerks will laugh at that, but seriously, it’s as if I can’t be anything else. I enjoy shattering other people’s beliefs by proving them wrong. It makes me feel more alive. You understand? How it feels?” He asked expectantly. He continued, “And even when I feel like being nice and doing nice deeds to others, I tend to make things worse. More importantly, I don’t like the role of the ‘nice guy’, it’s just too predictable.” He stopped to think for a while and continued, “However I feel as if there’s a higher force controlling me into becoming an asshole.” Sherry and Mark now laughed even harder, even some of the people who listened to his loud voice started giggling.

“Well, it certainly seems like you’re not going to get to play any other role, but you can always control yourself from becoming a bigger ass hole, right? Ha-ha” he said gleefully looking at Mark and to Dark. Mark then said with approval, “I agree.” he, finished his sentence by cynically laughing out, “ha-ha”, while gazing at Sherry with annoyance. Sherry ignored him.

After their second drinks arrived, they eagerly sipped it with the straw floating lifelessly in the transparent glass cup. They were no longer talking. The friends sat there observing others or just merely sitting idly. They all felt what they talked about was futile.

Suddenly, at the counter area the man working behind the counter began shouting to the boy in front of him. The boy looked familiar to the friends and immediately recognized him. The boy was their junior at college. They didn’t have any trouble listening to what the man said. He spoke out loud, almost shouting to the boy about one of the branches of philosophy, “Metaphysics.” He said. “In Greek, Meta means after or beyond whilst Phusis means nature. He continued, “Its concern is with giving a general and fundamental account of the way the world is.”

The boy then said, “Look, I am not interested in what you have to say, just wait for a while and ill go home and bring my wallet, so that I can pay you, what I owe. The man behind the counter ignored what the boy said and continued with his preaching, “A Metaphysician is concerned with the nature of all reality. The central branch of metaphysics is Ontology. Ontology is… before he could mutter another word. Dark stood in front of him and said to the man, “Hey, smart fuck how much does the kid owe you?” he then paid the man and resumed sitting with his friends, he brought the boy along and asked the boy to order a drink almost ordered the boy to ask for a drink.

The boy was a few years younger but he was an intelligent kid. Boy used to hang out with older people and he read a lot, everyone who knew him, knew that. “Mark asked, say Boy (his friends called him boy) we were discussing of the things that were troubling us in our life. Would you like to share some of your views with us?” before the boy could answer, “sherry said, “why would you ask Boy something like that, not everyone openly talk about their problems to everyone. Ha-ha. You should stop asking people about their personal life” Dark then added in an almost serious tone, “yeah, you’re an idiot Mark.”

Boy then said, “Well yes,” agreeing with Sherry, “I won’t really talk about my personal life, but there’s this one thing that I am a little confused about. Who knows you guys can help me figure out the answer that I am looking for. Seeing that you guys are working and have to balance your personal life and your working life.” He stopped and sat still for a moment, the friends were anticipating for his next words. He finally said, “What is the difference between a normal working class guy and a bank robber, well in our country perhaps a jewelry shop robber?”

“What are you getting to?” asked one of the friends. “My point is that I see no difference between a normal 9-5 guy and a jewelry robber when their goals are the same, Material.” I believe that materialism is the cause of the earth moving. People wake up in the morning for material reasons, don’t you guys agree? He asked. Sherry said, “of course not, people live to get a better comfortable life, they strife of in struggle to be someone better. Not everything is about material.”

Boy, quickly replied as though he anticipated that answer, “in order to achieve a better comfortable life, doesn’t that amounts to more reasons to gain more material wealth?” he sounded confident with his answer, he looked at the three friends who looked confused before him and stated, “my opinion is that the jewelry shop robber is a smarter person compared to the ones who sacrifices their whole life in order to gain a better life, lying to themselves that that’s how life is.” He paused again and continued, “of course there’s a bigger risk involved in a robbery but if it could give you anything you want in life, in a short period, it’s worth a try right?” he stopped and looked at his seniors before continuing, “I am not saying that, one should rob a jewelry shop.” suddenly The situation seemed to abruptly change.

There was a familiar sound of a phone ringing. The air now was humid beyond reason. The place where the friends were was now rapidly changing. The place that was filled with bright lights became dark and dull. Everything suddenly seemed to be spinning around. There was a loud Bang and he could picture white images. All of a sudden he felt a throbbing pain at the back of his head, his vision disoriented and he felt really hot. He was now once again awake in oblivion.

Might be, continued.

Thank You.


You and I (warning: extremely whinny)

Today was somewhat different than usual. You woke up from your slumber later than you used to. However waking up today not only made you feel wearier but it made you feel a bit towards the point of pointless. Only sometimes, very rarely you wake up feeling at ease and satisfied which normally you don’t because you don’t think you deserve it.

The weather couldn’t be weirder; it has been acting strangely these past days. I don’t even know you anymore you felt like saying. Yet it was influential enough to change your mood, the way you feel and disrupt your normal routine. Come to think about it, all around the world people adapt to the weather not the other way around. So, erm adapt.

Afternoons, these past couple of weeks had been scheduled for hardcore thunder storms. The flashes of lightnings were so white and bright and so near you thought it was about to strike you. Back in your mind, you prepare and warn yourself for the possibility of how it could bring damage to you but soon enough you ignore that thought thinking that you’re just being absurd…as usual.

The days used to be tiring and confusing but lately considering the weather and other aspects that had happened, all the weird things that happens makes you even more dreadful and lost. One of your main escapes was the friends you hung out with and with whom you shamelessly expressed yourself. you didn’t care if they were listening as long as they pretended to, it was fine. But the close ones now, preoccupied with their jobs and their own wearied life. You didn’t mind…then you always had plenty of friends and other options. Nevertheless the one friend you waited for so long never seemed to surface. Yet you say to yourself there’s still hope, you always say that giving optimism a bad name.

I sat up straight in the middle of the night before I sleep, every night thinking of what I have done and what needed to be done the next morning I wake up, Having the intention of wanting to use those precious moments in a productive manner. Instead I think of small petty things that could be used as excuses and to get rid of the guilt.

A person you knew told you that she gives out a small amount of money from her salary to the needy. You asked her why is she telling you that. She replies, just because. You told her she was doing a good, noble thing. Inside your head you say that she only does it in order to make herself feel better. You don’t have anything against her or the things she does. It’s just that almost everyone who lives a lavish life or not tend to give away small amount of charity to get rid of the guilt and to tell themselves that they have done their part.

Everyday you wake up and you get ready for work. As long as you worked, you didn’t feel guilty about how you spend your time. Work prevents you from the guiltiness. As long as you make some money and get out from the house everyday it was ok. Doing the same things everyday and being tossed around was normal, something to adapt to. As long as you had a job it was ok.

The days you don’t have to go to work. You want to spend quality time and have fun, normally you do. But when your friends are tied up and you have to spend your quality time all alone. You start to wonder and think about how you’re wasting your time and you start to feel pointless to the point that you feel it would be better if you were at work and being with the people you hated and detest would be relatively better rather than staying alone. Suddenly thinking that 'fight club ' wasn’t really a bad idea. People needed release and a fight club could give you just that.

You sat back and thought about your wins and loses and started thinking back times. You always did remember only the bad side of things and the negative parts. That’s what your friends said at least. Those were ages ago, now you’re and still bitter as you used to be although you feel more controlled and matured some people never change they say. Now you’re retired and no longer young. You had gone through many things and have had obtained the numerous things which you wished for when you were younger. Yet still, you ponder and question about your existence.

You sat there reminiscing…reminiscing. Reminiscing has to be one of the most overrated, overused words. It has been constantly used especially by rappers in their songs. They reminisce about their life in the hood. Little wonder, now that they’ve made it out of the hood, why still reminisce if you hate it so much. Let’s Move along…yeah lets move along before risking sounding like a hypocrite.

You always thought that people praising you were always a good thing. Now you’ve realized that it only made you feel better of yourself. It is however, common human nature to get acknowledged by others that makes one feel good. One of the most extravagant praise of all time was when I was in my early twenties and it might not be all true and honest but the praise itself was beyond anything you’d imagine.

There was this 30 something year old guy whom I worked with once. I got along more than fine with him and on one afternoon while we were talking, he suddenly jumped to a different topic than the one i was going on about as if remembering something important and exclaimed that he saw a movie. He then continued that the movie was entitled ‘passion of the Christ’, he said, “it was a sad movie and I cried like a baby and I tried to conceal it from myself being seen and the weird thing was, while I was watching it, quite funnily it reminded me of you.” His facial expression was almost sad and I liked to believe that he was sincere, but it clearly didn’t show that he was joking around. I on the other hand was…entertained. Although it wasn’t even a proper commend but it was meaningful enough for me to still remember it till today.

You once thought that you worked hard and you achieved all the things you had as a result of your own effort and endurance followed by an iron will of determination. On one hand it was true; on the other hand you were just living up to expectations and the path that was already bestowed before you every time you moved along. Everything that you needed to do was laid in front for you. Starting from kindergarten you were already expected to act in a certain way and perform to a certain extent. You never once asked why all this expectations? Instead you went through primary school and high school just following the path that was laid onto you. You didn’t regret following the path. You just regretted not having done it on your own conscience.

Do you still feel proud of yourself now? Of your accomplishments…when all you did was play along and live up to others expectation towards one goal, money.

Later you tell me that working is the most depressing phase that you had to go through and when you lose motivation you bought a car and before that was settled, and this time you thought ahead before losing your motivation again you decided to buy a house which left you with no choice but to keep on working. By doing so you raised up to your family’s expectation, your own expectation and your future wife’s expectation and then finally and predictably you get married tying a permanent knot to your everyday work life which leaves you with no other choice but to continue working at least till you reach the age 50. Not forgetting, gaining a troublesome liability. That perhaps is part of being a man.

You and I are the same. You go to every phase of life that either I had gone to or predictably have to go through. Perhaps this is just a game after all. To see who gets to the finish line first. A wise man once told me that a real man doesn’t complain instead he dealt with his problems patiently and calmly. In that case I guess I am still not man enough then.

Hollow Men

I was now looking into a small office and in it there was a man sitting in a huge cushioned chair which appeared to be clad with black leather. It looked out of place, seeing that everything else in the office was smaller. The desk in the office looked out of place accompanying the huge chair. It looked slightly larger than a coffee table than an actual desk. The office was occupied by three people including the one sitting. The other two were standing one on his left and the other on his right side.

I realized that the atmosphere in the room was dull. The office was poorly lit; it was as if the occupants in it didn’t like bright lights. The only sound that was visible was the sound of the people talking and the creaking sound coming from the ceiling fan which looked like it would come off its hook any moment. There were a few old pictures of strange men nailed to the wall.

The man sitting on the huge cushioned chair looked really cool and cold at the same time. He was formally dressed in white and black and he wore a pair of shiny black shoes. His hair unlike his dress code looked like he combed it with his hands with a huge amount of gel, letting out a tidy-untidy look. He had sharp facial features and was accessorized by a silver rimmed spectacle. His eyes looked calm giving out the impression that he was comfortable with himself.

He was talking to the guys who stood by his side and occasionally letting out a cool laugh. Both of the guys who stood beside him didn’t dress or looked as smart as he did neither did their physical appearance looked very well proportioned. One of them had a black fashionable sun glasses on. And they had similar gold chains and rings on them which made them look slightly gay despite their crude appearance.

As they were talking in the office, the door to the office was pushed opened giving out a slight screech and an appearance of a shadowy figure was staring at them. The shadowy figure now found its way in. The place was silent now and they were staring back and forth at each other for a few seconds. Clearly the occupants in the room didn’t know who the person was and were looking at the man with a surprised expression on their face. The man who walked in dressed in a handsome black coat but it was worn rather loosely without a tie and the top of his shirt were unbuttoned. He was thin and had a shallow face, his cheek bones was clearly visible and pale skin that looked like he lacked nutrition. He had eyes that looked like it could come out of its sockets if he tried and a sharp nose giving out a serious appearance. His hair was slicked back neatly and it looked as if it shined at times.

He was waiting for them to react but they didn’t, they were just staring at him blankly. He looked at them again and finally realized that they were waiting for him to state his objective. He finally said, “I am Slow Hands and I have a business proposal to let you know about.” With that he sat across the man in the huge seat into a small wooden chair that clearly states out, who’s the boss. “I hope you would find my proposal interesting and would be willing to join us.” The man in the huge leather chair said to him, “take a seat.” And then he continued staring at him. Slow Hands ignored what the man said and now, started with his business proposal and so Slow Hands began to state his proposal. He also elaborated on how it would be of benefit to them, if they decided to join with his company.

The man who sat in the huge seat was now giving out a faint smirk as he glanced at his workers. He remained silent and stared at Slow Hands as if he was anticipating to listen more of what else he had to say to support his proposal. Slow hands continued explaining desperately now. He exclaimed that it was the right thing to do and kept on insisting on how they should accept his offer clearly showing signs of weakness and desperation.

The man now as if getting more entertained gave out a hint of smile and said, “Go on”, And at the same time motioning with his hand as if ordering him to elaborate more. Slow hands obeyed and did just that. But as he went on explaining the guys on the other side started ignoring him and were having their own conversation and were clearly mocking Slow Hands. Slow Hands was agitated and stopped talking. He now glared at them with a nasty look in his eyes trying to conceal his anger.

The man with spectacles now bluntly said, “Look, I am not interested in your proposal and the things you said, means nothing to me. And I clearly don’t need you guys to help me out with the business that I built on my own.” He paused for a while and then continued, “By the way shouldn’t your boss come along too? Instead, he sends his assistant to meet me?” There was a moment of silence Slow Hands was thinking for a moment, he decided to answer, “I am sorry, but my boss isn’t good at negotiating, so I decided to come by myself.” The man looked at his workers in disbelief and said, “Did you guys listen to what he just said? Well that clearly lacks respect, doesn’t it!” he added. The guys beside him just nodded in approval.

Slow Hands was determined to make this work, but it clearly wasn’t going the way he anticipated it. He was beginning to feel the sweat on his forehead and the drops of sweat beneath his shirt. He started feeling uncomfortable and he began to shift uneasily on the small wooden chair he sat on. His eyes showed that he was desperately trying to find the right words to say. Suddenly a glimmer of hope appeared on his face as he sat straight once again. He said, without proper thought, “Ill do anything that takes for you to join us, and that, including giving my life.” The men were clearly amused listening to what Slow Hands just said. Though it didn’t last for long, the man replied, “you better be careful with the words you choose to say, I don’t like people who play with words just to prove a point. Saying things that don’t fit your position huh?” they glared at each other once more.

Slow Hands didn’t move an inch, trying to indicate that he really meant what he said. The man was clearly pissed looking at Slow Hands. He then, spread both his arms to his left and right and waited for a moment. Nothing happened; he looked even more pissed and looked at his workers. They looked back at him as if they didn’t understand why he lifted his hands. The man on the huge seat then tiredly said in a low agitated tone, “gun”. Immediately both of them placed their gun in his hands. He then placed the guns in his hand on the desk and he said, “Prove it.” Slow Hands stood up from his chair and reached for both of the guns. He then sat back in his seat, with the guns in his hands. He then placed his right hand with the gun on his chest and the other one he shoved it in his mouth. He paused a moment and smiled for a moment. The guys across him were dumbstruck as they witnessed Slow Hands actions.

As he held the guns in his hand, one pointed towards his chest and the other one in his mouth. He took the one from his mouth out and stated, “Perhaps, you too shouldn’t say or do just any thing to prove a point.” With that he put the other gun in his mouth and almost simultaneously pulled the triggers at the same time. The gun that was pointed to his chest now dropped to the floor with his hand while the one in his mouth was still in his mouth. Blood was now oozing from his body and his bloody head, staining the floor with a patch of dark blood.

“Shit” was the only word that came out from the guy seated on the huge chair. The two other although shocked still remained standing and silent. Finally, he continued, “life is a scary thing, you die in what u believe in. and for all I know he died for the wrong reason. What an idiot.”

“Bob!” he called out loud and one of the guys beside him came forward. “Get rid of the body!” he demanded.

I was feeling sick already and also thirsty by now. I stood up and hit the pause button and went down for a drink.