Note to self

I don't know when life started to feel so gloomy to me. It's like living in Gotham City sans the Batman. But one thing for sure, whenever people that matter to me are near me, it's like sunshine peeking slowly among the dark clouds that have been hovering above me. It's a miracle how one human can affect another human. But shouldn't our life story be about us? I guess we started living as a devotee (as in religion), and continue to devote throughout our life. It's like in twitter, and facebook, you notice how these social media platforms were designed to be so personal, so about you, yet you still want to dedicate it for others. Talking about others, thinking about others, motivating others and whatnot. Why life should be about them and not you?

In my eyes, there are three types of people in social media; jerks, posers and fakers. Jerks are those who pretend they are the superior and know-it-all assholes. Prancing through the timeline and walls like they are some kind of royalty. I mean, who nominate them as so-called twitfemes or pioneer at the first place if not themselves? Jack invented twitter, not you people. Posers are those, in a simpler way, immature kiddos who also pretend like they have lived a hundred years. Come on you fucktwats, you are just 15 for god sake, love doesn't kill you, your stupidity does. Fakers, well, aren't we all?

But then this is my opinion based on my observation per see. We have our own way to interpret things.

Some of us were born lucky, and some of us weren't. But that doesn't mean they get to sit back and relax while we work our ass off. Everybody have their own deeds to pay, in their own ways. So stop whining and get your lazy ass off that chair and do things you should, want and have to do. First step is always the hardest, but be assured that it will pay off. Keep growing, keep learning. Keep trying to be the better and bigger person.

Ceh, cakap memang senang. Now give me my cancer stick and let me drown in my own bitterness.

***

(Merujuk kepada Izin Cemburu)
Malas bicara soal cinta; tiada berpenghujung.
Bagai menatap luas sawah bendang, hijau sampai ke hujung.
Tak nampak apa yang ada disebelah sana selagi kita tidak melangkah jauh.

Cemburu itu sakit, disimpan lama menjadi luka dan bernanah lalu parah.
Cinta itu sepatutnya indah.

Buat sang pencinta, teruskan bercinta.