Kau

Fuck

Fuck

Fuck

Fuck

Fuck

Fuck

Fuck

Fuck

Fuck

F

U

C

K

F. U. C. K

fuck.

Kepada kau yang selalu tak ada bila aku paling perlu.

FUCK KAU.

Benak

Bila sampai masanya,

Untuk aku keluar mentah mentah dari benak hati kau,

Heh, 

Jangan buat muka terkejut.

Bila sampai masanya,

Untuk aku keluar mentah mentah dari benak hati kau,

Weh,

Tutup je pintu kau rapat rapat.

Bila sampai masanya,

Untuk aku keluar mentah mentah dari benak hati kau,

Ceh,

Aku tak hingin nak toleh balik pun.

Bila sampai masanya,

Aku akan keluar mentah mentah dari benak hati kau.

Jazmin

Yang nak keluar dari benak hati kau.

Cukup

Here is the thing. I am a very caring person. I am. 

It takes a lot for me to stop caring about that person.

Well I guess you've made it.

Leave me,

And I will gladly lock the door.

Trust me I will.

Jaz.

Perkataan.

If you could describe me in just one word, what would that word be?

Hi.

Hi, long time no see.
Fuck the apologies, read the story (:

But, hi, I've missed you.

Scroll down to read.
And thank you for reading. Thank you, so so so very much.

jaz.

Q

        

            

When I was a child, I suspected that there was something wrong with me. I mean, people would not see me. It was as if I was invisible. When I play, I will play alone, in the middle of a crowded place and no one would even look me in the eyes. When I cry, and scream for attention, not a single ear twitched to my screeching scream. I mean, I yelled pretty loud because I was quite sure that I was deaf for a fraction of a second. But seriously, no one turned.

My childhood was the loneliest part of my life.

But as I guess, loneliness fits me like a lover’s hand today. To be lonely is to be at home. Cozy, in my jammies and a cup of hot green tea. That’s what loneliness is to me today.

You must be wondering, “what about family?”

Let me tell you something, no. I do not have a family, I was never with a family, I did not grow up with a pair of humans like the rest of you do. I was just suddenly on Earth. I do not remember myself being an infant. I guess that is quite normal, "infancy amnesia" as they call it, but believe me, I was and still am not owned by anybody and nor does I have anybody to own. I am just me and myself from ever since I can remember. And also since I’ve grown up and everything, I realized that I am invisible. It was not like what I thought when I was a child. People cannot see me not because they do not want to, it is because they cannot. Believe me, I have tried. I bet you are wondering whether I’ve ever walked naked in public before. And my answer to that is, OF COURSE! I am invisible for God’s sake. Why would I not do that? But despite the fact that I am unseen, I still prefer being clothed because the wind is really uncomfortable when you are naked out in the open. Really uncomfortable. It is as if the wind is trying its best to caress you but somehow it will become perverted and I do not want to perceive wind as a perverted element.

Anyway, continuing on why I am telling you this story. Oh my goodness, how rude of me. Please, forgive me because I am not usually involve in any social conventions hence, I often forgot my manners. I am. Well, I am not really sure who I am since I was never given a name before. But I am used to calling myself Q. I do not know why, it is just what it is. I was going through the alphabets during kindergarten, yes I went to kindergarten even though no one asked me to, and while we were going through the alphabets with our teacher, this letter Q grabbed the lust part of me. It was as if I was attracted to this letter, too attracted if I may. So, do call me Q.

I keep getting sidetracked. Anyway, one day as I was sipping my tea in the middle of the night, I felt like there was something poking out of my skin. It was so sharp and the pain was beyond my vocabulary. I screamed but again, screaming can only get me so far. This very excruciating pain left me crumbling, breaking and crying in my bed for three days straight. I cannot move, I can barely talk and I thought I was left to die. And at that moment, there was nothing more that I desired than death, I wished for it, craved, as a matter of fact I begged for the angel of death to come and face me, to tell me that my life in this horrible, lonesome world is coming to an end. But that did not happen. I lived in pain and on the fourth night of my dying days, I felt something tickling my back. Something very light and very ticklish. Though I was in pain, I just had to laugh. I reached my back and tried to grab whatever it was that was tickling the fucking crap out of me. When I touched it, it was soft, at first I felt one, then two and suddenly, there are tons of ticklish crap on my back and it stopped being funny. I tried to grab one but it was attached to my skin and it hurts really badly when I tried to pull it out. When it came the time that it stopped hurting, the thing on my back still did not stop growing. My back was killing me and I could no longer sleep normally. I had to somehow sleep in weird angle so that I would not crush that thing behind me. I lived with that fear that this thing was soon going to consume me if it was still growing for another week. It was not until a week later that I solved the question of what was growing on my back all this while.  

It was a pair of wings.

I did not recognize it because I am invisible and the mirror and I are not exactly the best of friends because it will not and I suppose never will reflect me. I only realized that it was wings when I woke up one day on my ceiling instead of my normal comfy bed. And when I turned my head to my back, I could see these white feathers spreading like an eagle’s wings as I flexed the muscles on my back. I felt alive more than I had ever felt in my entire 19 years of living.

But what are the purposes of these wings? Why was I given wings in the first place? Am I not human? Or an invisible human? Is being invisible not enough? Why? Why was I given a pair of majestic wings? Why?

At that moment, I did not have the answer, so with newly evolved wings, I flew away, from one continent to another. Sometimes I just sat on the tree with the birds, you know, chilling with my flock. But then one day, from up above a tree I saw a girl walking with the world on her shoulders, it was so heavy I could see her aging faster than she should. She was so young, and I could see that all she could feel was pain and pain alone. And not from far from her I saw a boy, he was so happy, but there was no one for him to share his happiness with. And so I flew down to the boy and tapped on his shoulder. Yes, human beings cannot see me but from my experiments, results, both quantitative and qualitative data and countless attempts to interact with them I found that if I touch them, they’ll notice. So I tapped on the boy’s shoulder and guided him to her. By “guide” I meant I pushed him until he stumbled on the girl with the world on her shoulders. And there I saw, a sparkle. Oh, it was so beautiful, I almost cried. I wish I can imagine actual words to describe what the sparkle looked like. I’ll try.

The sparkle was like when the night sky is so dark, pitch black, without a single star present but there’s the moon. Spreading its light, igniting the whole sky with colors which will make memories come to life for those who are seeing it. It is like the only flower in the green meadow, standing on its own, but spreading colors that it possesses to the greens making the whole meadow bright with colors. It is like the most colorful fireworks that are ever known to mankind. It was just so beautiful, and I just knew that that sparkle is what humans call love. They cannot see it but apparently being invisible has its quirks.

Later that month, I have “guided” six persons into one another’s arms and I saw the sparkle igniting with every first look and first fall that they took for one another. And I became addicted.

So I decided to raise the ante. I read from books on Greek Mythology and I adapted this idea from there.  I built a crossbow with my bare hands and I carved my arrows. I carved it finely so that when it strikes the human body, it will not hurt them, but only enough to “guide” their attention.  The first two tries was a failure. First it was too fine and thin that the human cannot even feel it. The second one was slightly too thick from its appropriate thickness and I think I might have hurt that girl’s left buttock cheek. But my third arrow was perfect. It was so perfect, that I could fly and sit on top of the highest trees, aim from above, and “guide” that person into the arms of a lover from afar. And I can tell you this. The sparkle is even more beautiful from high above. Enchanting, fulfilling and an ecstasy to me.

Remember how I told you that my name was Q? It was not until the day that I read the Greek Mythology book that I realized this; my name is a short nickname for another, longer, complete name. My full name. It’s funny how things work.

Do you remember how I told you that my name was Q? Well I still am. But now, I am no longer the letter Q standing on its own. I am Q-Pid. Cupid.

To be continued....

Jazmin.

Anger does not suits me. 

Selamat Tinggal

                                 

I was never good at goodbyes and I highly doubt that I ever will be good at it. I am okay with bidding goodbyes to those of whom are not to my likings but its the ones that I love who are giving me this trouble. 

It is impossible.

I told myself that hey, maybe leaving without saying goodbye is not a bad thing after all. It is like preparing my loved ones for the inevitable, death. That is the whole purpose of life anyway; to get as ready as you could before Death taps you on your shoulder. In a way, I am not simply getting out of their lives, I am helping them to face Death.

But then I realized that hey, maybe, just maybe, I am just a coward.

The truth is, I can’t bear the thought of being in a state of oblivion to someone I love. Once you bid your goodbyes, you are handing that person “closure” and thus a chance to move on. Knowing for a fact that they will no longer see me and soon enough, give up to the idea of ever seeing me again, I will be pushed out of the way to make way for better memories. But I am a coward. I want to remain forever as an easily retrieved memory. 

That is why I am not at goodbyes. I am a coward. Lets leave the goodbyes to whose who are not afraid of being forgotten.

I am sorry kids, Teacher Jaz won’t be seeing or teaching you anymore. Probably forever. But, live a good life, never stop seeking for your Great Perhaps and love with all your heart’s content because God knows, I love you kids like the children I never had.



Be happy. Always try your best to be happy and keep me in mind.

Love.

Teacher Jaz.

At once

                                 

Sometimes when I miss you, like exactly right at this moment, I will miss all of our memories together. All of these memories, all at once. I do not really know how to further describe i but I suppose it is like combining all of our goodbyes and rewinding them in my head again and again and again and again. 

And I for one, am not good at saying, waving and handling goodbyes.

So, all of those memories are not only sad but painful to be reminisced as well.

All of them, at once.

Holy shit. 

I miss you. So much. And I promise you, it fucking hurts.

Jaz

"I could dance."

"Tell me," she said, "tell me about yourself. Enlighten me."

He looked on the floor ground, contemplating, which part of him will interest her.

"Come on," she prompted further, "I don't have all day if you mind."

And he started to cry.

She laughed.

"Oh, did I frighten you?" She ran her delicate fingers on his neck, subtly caressing him. "Shhhh," she hushed, "shhh, no, no, no, why would I want to scare you."

She pushed him lower to the ground with her delicate hand. It looked as if he was prostrating to her. "Come on, entertain me. Tell me something interesting about yourself, dear." She then took her hand off him, and kicked him to the floor ground, leaving him heaving, searching for his own breath, pathetically. "And again, mind the keyword, interesting."

He shivered on the floor, trying his best to not cry but his body was betraying him. "I....." he started speaking between his shivers. "I cou.... I could....."

"YOU COULD WHAT?!" Her voice bounced around the room, echoing to every inch of the entrapped room where he was kept in.

"I could dance." He whispered timidly through his fear.

She laughed again, but this time harder, meaner and merciless.

"Well," she pirouetted in front of his prostrated body. "As you can see, so can I." She then descended herself gracefully, in front of his face and repeated, "interesting." She smiled, pushing the gun on her left hand to the inside of his mouth. He resisted with all his power but being tied and beaten up countless of times had gotten the best of him. He begged and he begged while she laughed and laughed.

"How hard is it TO OPEN YOUR FUCKING MOUTH!" She used the gun to knock he teeth off to get it inside. Once she had the gun inside of his mouth, she smiled at him. "I told you, interesting facts about yourself, love."

And with that, his brain matter was splattered against the wall, all red, bloody and stupid at once.

"An eye for an eye." She spitted in the hole of his head and walked away.

jf

confession: irene adler, my muse.