hey mad,

kucing tompok, misainya panjang

kucing putih, bulunya lembut

kucing dijalanan, matanya sayu

sepertinya tidak tahu,

3 am, I whispered, “I’m sorry.”

4 am, you asked, “for which one?”

6 am, I questioned, “how many hours do I still owe you?”

This is what I feel for the past months. To the point, I am starting to believe that I simply don't exist. I seem to hit rockbottom. I seem to believe, rock and bottom will be synonym to my life. I do not enjoy my curry maggi when its raining, I enjoy my sleep more than reading, I looking forward to nothingness when sun is sunny in Chinese New Year Holiday. I am 26 and I should be happy.

did i say sorry too much or too little?

did you forgive so fast but never let me forget?

talking to you, was like having a glass of water pressed over a pile of papers, while it does do the job from getting the papers fly away— the possibilities for the glass to trip over and drench the sets of paper underneath it, aroused me. unconsciously, i want the papers to be wet, i want all of my works gone, and later tell myself, it was all worth it—I want you to notice that I was nervous, my words are slipping away.

Ibu kabo, harus sayang semua,

Kucing, makcik buta jual tisu, apa sahaja di atas dunia

Bila ibu tinggalkan semua, termasuk saya

Saya belajar untuk sayang semua—

Kucing, makcik buta jual tisu, apa sahaja di atas dunia

Dan yang tiada—

Ibu.