Michael Bolton

Okay, back.

This comfort purgatory, an oxymoron for me to delightfully label this place, feels the same. The kind of feeling when you get home after a long trip and you don't feel any trace of changes. That's happening right about now, inside of me. And I certainly can vouch that this is all natural per se.

Well, the previous four songs that "currently" matter at that time has been up for quite some time. But not on the itunes playlist for sure anymore. Except 'Norway'. It has some funny magic that every once in a while, works its ways on me, yeah, in ways you can't even imagine. Thank 'you' old pal for introducing it if you're still reading this, though that's very unlikely as we have been out of touch for quite some time.

And I have been out of things to write.

Not by choice.

Never.

But it's all because of the most common killer in the world called,

lazine-

(yes, even now)

four important songs right now.

Deschanel.

During a cranium game (a more fun version of charades, as they claim),

Jay used his pen to draw 6 dashes. The universal cranium sign for 6 words. We now need to guess what book title consists of 6 words. I had no idea.

He continued drawing a fist with a thumb sticking out pointing upwards. Okay, in lesser words, it was a 'thumbs up'. He added a car beside it. 'This' was for the second word.

It ended there.

I answered faster than i took the time to write this post. Can you?

Gypsy Punk

1)This unfair pressure amounts to a point.

2)Where I wish I could write something good effortlessly.

3)Today is the 10th day of eid.

4)'You don't have to come and confess' is the best line of the week. Antoine Dodson is the Maharaja.

5)There's too much positivity, it's becoming negative.

6)The long distance phone calls made me happy during eid. Very.

7)I need Doc Brown and his Delorean. Badly.

8)I need to find a job. Terribly.

9)I will never write like this again. Promise.

Gorillaz - On Melancholy Hill

For the longest time, I'm gonna use back the word epic.

Havaianas.

My hot-shorts radius is getting larger. First it was the living room. The neighbour's house next. And now the clubhouse. Playing ping pong. I fenced off any confused onlookers with a smile.

Yesterday, I took a drive in it and went to a mamak. Sat, drank, kept a clear mind, ready to eyeball back the people around, eyeballing me first.

"Bro main rugby ke, sure hebat ni" the friend's acquaintance asked.

That's it, I'm wearing these rugby shorts to the bazaar ramadhan next. In style. Maybe minus the flip-flops.

The Courteeners - No You Didn't, No You Don't

Romero.

The rain hits the car window in an inconsistent awkward tune, almost as if some bored kid is playing with the water sprinkler, turning it on and off anytime he feels like doing it. It must be raining everywhere, even the radio station is playing 'raindrops keep falling on my head'.

They were playing a song which has been featured in a few films, Forrest Gump, Spy Hard, Spiderman 2, and probably the best song that has got to do with the rain. The dj must have felt something, or maybe he just rented Spiderman 2,heard the song, watched it halfway, fell asleep before claiming it's a song of his generation.

Inside, the one seating in the passenger seat is talking about the school of thoughts in the world, the economic and political fables he like to start telling anyone when he's bored in the car. He hasn't stopped talking since we left the suburb, an hour ago. He must be really bored. He's currently at 'socialism' now. It has been 30 times since he mentioned 'Karl Marx'.

"Zombies are true socialists and the black dude in 'The Land of The Dead' must be the metaphor of Karl Marx" I thought.

I am nodding my head and making comforting sounds, the universal series of sounds you make as a sign of understanding. I never add to anything he says. I just choose some words, think of word substitutes, re-trace to something he mentioned a few minutes before and say it to him. A version of his story in the words of mine. I am the compliment ace(in tennis sense).

He never gets bored if he tells these kinda stuff to me. A private talk on big human problems and the make-believe solutions he wishes he can achieve. I am his listener today. He rarely cracks a joke, except when he's bored or that he realize that I am not actually listening. Both options are not present, at the moment.

"You know what's scary in the world right now?" he suddenly made a rhetorical question. If this was a test, either way I wouldn't have answered.

"It's not collapsing skyscrapers"

"It's not those bloody insurgents"

"It's not those Wall Street and the Federal Reserve bastards"

At this point, I don't think I can come up with anymore examples of the tragedies that have struck the world, better than him. Well i think he could go on, he only made a reference of what's been happening now. He is left with a few thousand years of earth problems. I wouldn't like to drive anymore if he continued.

"So what is?" I asked while pretending to be reading something in related to him on my phone all the while. Where in truth, I was busy texting a friend that i was more interested in hearing what dress colour she should wear to a dinner.

"People stabbing you from the back, the ones that you trust digging for your secrets, to be used on you, an abomination" He said in a cynical tone. However one may sound like.

"Like right now" he added.

"Huh?"

At this moment, I was confused. Only to find out that there are two heads just a few inches behind my head. Sneaking and giggling. The two idiots that have been sleeping for the past hour in the backseat are wide awake. They have been reading my text messages, from the back for god knows how long. Digging my secrets. Which consists of the preference of colours if I were a girl, my dream romantic holiday and I should stop here. The one in the passenger seat was really bored i guess. He picked on me instead.

Fred Astaire - I Won't dance (Remix)