There was almost dancing, behind this strange, unsettling writing, and there was almost every form of happiness dancing behind this strange, unsettling writing.
There was a cold war too, i suppose, but there was almost dancing.
Later, in a quiet night in a cold room on the 17th floor of a yellow colored building, i would lie down on a double-mattress with a laptop punching in all the flashy first words i could see beaming bright and bold. They danced a slow limbo with their heads dropped dead on the floor. The rest followed, they became awkward sentences and almost, proved you wrong.
I have accepted; this is how i write most comfortably. Quick, dirty, in a daze. Proving you wrong.
Like I love you. Spontaneous. Wholeheartedly.
I write this without changing my mind. I write this most part ridiculously, some part too wildly, and only a tiny part of it i believe, by karma. By too little karma. By liberty — if it ever matters –, i do not know how to begin it than with one night, in a local pub.
So one night in a local pub, in blue jeans — in hunger, i had given what they had in the menu the colours, the texture and the shapes of how they would look like. And the taste how they would taste like. Beef burger with fries. Lamb burger with fries. Pork burger with bacon, cheese and fries.
I ordered what was the best.
“You not scared ah?” asked Michelle.
“What?”
“Eat pork burger. Drink Guinness. Later they catch you.”
“Well, i don’t think it’s a crime. Is it a crime? ”
“It is. Well, in Malaysia it is.”
“Then i guess, i don’t belong in the group where the islamic law can be imposed on. I’m not a muslim.”
Later, in a quiet night in a cold room on the 17th floor of a yellow colored building, i would lie down on a double-mattress with a laptop thinking other than being born a Malay, and not wanting to be a muslim, what other crimes that i’ve done?
Writing clumsily? Let it be.
There, — i told — was almost dancing, behind this strange and unsettling writing. I write this without changing my mind, without denying what i thought mattered most : living this life, passionately, sincerely.
I love you, but i have prove you wrong.
