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Mighty Jacksparrow is an Earth-based sub-intergalactic blogger who enjoys writing and in the same time entertaining his ever-amusing will-kill-to-read fans with sensationally hilarious and at times dramatic musings. This blog offers endless ideas and results; they might be charming most of the times but could be offending in some others. Therefore, it is always noble to remind that if you enjoy the pieces, carry on reading, but if they upset you, do quietly leave like the evening breeze and not like exploding diarrhea, which exactly what you will look like if you ever lose it on me. Enjoy! :D

Friday, October 30, 2009

A Symphony, An Epiphany, of One Particular Lady.

"Show me a lady, and I shall write her a symphony of my own epiphany."

* * *


The night strode slowly. Watermarks from forming dew painted the cold metal panes and the glass window. The orange salt lamp glowed rather dimly, being the only strobe of light in the particularly dark room. The air was damp, and so was the empty atmosphere. The time was already late, transitioning to very early period of the next day, but eyes seemed to be so fresh an still. Sitting by the computer, he browsed through some of the latest updates from his friends in an online connection service, and he saw this:

"Show me a hero and I'll write you a tragedy." - F. Scott Fitzgerald


He thought for a while, and he tried to relate this somehow to what he had in mind. Moments passed on very slowly, just like how the forming dew continued to paint the window with pure water. He sipped his coffee and he smoked his cigarette, and it got to him, so he wrote on his online status:

"Show me a lady, and I shall write her a symphony of my own epiphany."

And he felt relieved after posting this, somehow, for a reason no one will quite understand. And so by feeling such he continued to sit on his chair, admiring the words and the hidden meaning behind them over and over while sipping on his coffee and smoking on his halfway-done tobacco roll. He felt strange when he looked at the sentence each time, but he decided to let it go, since after all it was just a sentence, regardless of how much beatitude lied in it.

Little that he knew that, this very sentence too, gave an impact to a certain somebody, hundreds of miles away from him at that instantaneous moment.

On a reply, the only reply, to that particular post of sentence he made, she said:



"Try me."


* * *


Hundreds of miles away.

Surrounded by the coldest misery of some kind, she sat on her bed awake every endless night, thinking over things - of how life has been treating her lately, and how cheerful the good old days were as to compare to date. Like a coat of fur the memories came and blanketed her from the being a victim to vicious cold heartache, and she felt warmth quite instantly, from reminiscing the moments when she was happy and such. She went through the sweetest kinds of moments she had in the past; the time when she spent her times with her loved ones, the time when she had that jokes running in her head for days, the time when she laughed so hard that she let out tears. And she thought to herself why, why everything turned to be so gloomy now.

Where is everybody, she asked. Why could I not laugh anymore? Why it has to be so cold? These sorts of questions bombarded her mind every time she woke up in the morning, and every time she lied in bed trying to get some sleep, but couldn't. And like she always did every night, she sat on her bed, wondering.

The light from her computer screen lit the dark room like nothing else did. Even from the slightest of glance, hints of sadness showed on her face. Rather lazily she browsed through the same page over and over, hoping for some wake. This was when the sentence stroke her gently, feather-lightly.

"Show me a lady, and I shall write her a symphony of my own epiphany."

And so she said to herself, my, I would want to be that lady. And so she let him knew.

And as almost as magically two souls got connected, hundreds of miles lied in between them, through just a single wire, with such mutual understanding, such mutual needs, such mutual feelings. And just like that, it established.

Hundreds of miles away from her, in the coldest and darkest of nights, he decided to write her a symphony, of an epiphany, of this one particular lady.


* * *

If you only knew what I feel inside.

If you only knew how it feels for me to see you being so absurdly sad, disappointed with the way life was going. How it feels for me to imagine you sitting by your bed, hugging your legs burying your head in them and slowly you sobbed, letting your warm tears to flow gently over your flawless cheeks. Your messy hair touched your arms like needles to a sponge. Your skin looked dead from the outside, very much like your very own feelings at the time. Loneliness stroke in from every inch, and the beating flesh in your chest succumbed to the pain, little tiny pain that caused you to glitch every time it pinned.

There was no one beside you to calm you down. There was no one to listen to you, to stroke your hair as you cry, to let you lie your head on a concerned shoulder, let alone offer you a hug when you need one. You are your only friend, your only aide.

How I wish you dear darling, how I wish to place myself in existence next to you out of thin air, to accompany your loneliest nights, even just to sit next to you, warming you up with my caressing touch. How I wish I could tell you beautiful tales of those princesses and their charming princes, though we both perfectly knew that the stories never will ever make sense in this world we live in. And how I wish I could lay a whole arm on your shoulder as you lay your head on mine as I tell you those stories, my hand doing gentle strokes on your hair while removing the river of tears on your cheeks without you knowing.

And how I wish I could let you burst in my arms, letting every and each pain out every little second, for the sake to feel any little bit better from all these madness you had been suffering. How I wish I could share with you a stretch of comforting cotton envelope, offering you warmth and comfort from ravishing moments of shivers. I shall pat you continuously, delivering you peace slowly residing into each and every piece of your mincemeat heart. And slowly you fall asleep in my embrace, while I stay awake to protect you from any harm and danger, while in the same enjoying every bedevil second looking at that peaceful expression you'd make as you decline into promising slumber.

Never again your nights will be so empty, so lonely, so meaningless and so senseless. Never again you will wake up in the morning to see the bed is again all empty.

And nonchalantly, this I promise you, smiles will bloom again on your untarnished, adorable lips. Coral cheeks of yours will not at any time again be drenched with tears, but to gloss into blossoming, alluring buds. Exquisitely, the dark adjectives in your seemingly endless episodes of life turn rather rapidly into totally far cry episodes, this time embellished with everything beautiful and nothing that is not.

I long for your enticing smiles that brighten my days. I ache for your laughs, I miss your seraphic gestures. Watching you live each day brings me not only felicity, but also bright lights to my solitariness, even when you were not and never mine to begin with.

So please, with all my heart I plead unto you, please smile again, for it is your smile that relieves me, for with all hopes knowing that you live properly at every dash of time over there.

I will do my everything, even beyond my own capacity, to ensure that the number of poking miseries that may reach you will stay at the degree of nothing. I shall protect you from all blunders, splinters, moody damn clouds that highhandedly so far had been successful to keep you from smiling. I shall send them everlasting doom for even trying, for even having the thoughts to. I will shake the pillar of hell itself if necessary, sending them one final warning - if they'd ever try to make you unhappy again, it will be assured that they will be the sorriest thing to ever understand fully the meaning of the word sorry.

I will unleash fear, I will make them miseries run in terror with that horror look on their faces, just to make sure you feel better again. Only the important thing is, you were never mine to begin with.

And I could do to you lady, is to stand here watching how you fall agonizingly in your own defined pain, suffering from everything. I just want to let you know that quite deliberately, I too am feeling the similar thing by just looking at you.

But all I could do is to only watch, and I could only wish.


* * *

Hundreds of miles away, she is still crying.


Thursday, October 29, 2009

Fly Forever



Let's for a while take a look at the image above and tell me how beautiful it is.

This is a Malaysia Airlines Boeing 747-400 with Hibiscus livery, en route from Kuala Lumpur International Airport to Heathrow International.

Flying over the Indian Ocean, I took a look at the clouds and realized how beautiful the view was, even though it was just a simulation.

And it occurred to me.

Breaking the sound barrier, we cruise up above the clouds,
Thy're sitting next to me and claim there're doubts,
But I assure thee darling there will never anymore be
Those nightmares that haunt the long days of thee,

Calm down now darling take a look around,
Of the sun and clouds, nothing there is to bound,
I offer you my hand and I offer you my heart,
May this flight fly forever, and
We'd never be apart.


Tuesday, October 27, 2009

A Series of Unfortunate Crashes



Having entirely nothing to do while burying myself deep in research papers and books today, I let the flight simulator running on my LCD screen just to entertain myself and in the same time to occupy myself from thinking about the series of weird dreams I had been having for the past few days.


* * *



First I flew this guy - a Boeing 747-200SF MASKargo that was supposed to complete a single run to Belgium from KLIA, but never really had the chance anyway because it crashed right after take off due to crosswind, and because someone forgot to set all flaps out before takeoff. The plane stalled into the gate of the airport and created one crater the size only long range artillery with such firepower could have created.

No luck there I guess. Sorry for all the Christmas presents that were destroyed. I am not sure if the insurance covers all that.


* * *



Then I moved on to this big guy here, an MAS Boeing 747-400 flagship 'Seremban'. It was supposed to take off at Pulau Pinang International (main terminal at the back) at dawn but collided with a landing Boeing 777-2H6ER that was landing at the time because the captain was busy talking on his cell and decided not to listen to the ATC warning regarding the incoming misfortune. 500++ passengers they all died almost as instantly in what we would suggest as not only horrific but also massive human barbecue.

Sorry. Will do better next time around. And no more phone calls during taxiing.

* * *





Then I flew this cute boy above there - an Aérospatiale-BAC Concorde for a short trip from KLIA to Beijing. Currently cruising at service altitude 60,000ft at the speed Mach 2.0, I left this guy to go for some bites in the pantry, only to come back and saw it had plunged into some paddy field in Cambodia because someone forgot to set the Autopilot Altitude-Hold Switch. Flight log suggested that it managed to hit Mach 3.0 slightly before the crash, that is three times the speed of sound, and I said to myself that that must be quite a smash it woke the whole village before the village itself was swiped clean by the fiery blast the size only napalm bomb could have made.

Sorry again. God bless you all good people souls. Bad people souls you all can go to hell.


* * *



And then I tried to fly this thing - a thing that appeared to be what we commonly refer to as the Millennium Falcon from the 'Star Wars' saga. It is shown up there, taken before departure, resting next to a Boeing 777-2H6ER at Kota Kinabalu International.

Once positioned on the runway, I pushed the thruster levers forward as usual to hit the minimum takeoff speed, only to see that the Falcon sped off in such speed that at one second it was still on the runway while at another second it had swerved all the way to the left side of the runway and tactically slammed into what today appears to be AirAsia's Terminal 2, killing everyone inside in such inferno even Darth Vader himself would turn a face from. Imagine, the terror in his face, though his face was nothing but a mere plastic mask that is coated with a single layer of metal, painted in black, polished daily to send out shines that shy out all stars.

This time I thought for a while and agreed to the fact that I might have been playing too much that everything started not to make sense anymore.

So I stopped playing the simulator.






For just a meaningful half an hour.


Is This Some Kind of Joke?


This is going completely ridiculous already.

Now what are the odds, to be having the same dream over and over again for three nights in a row?

Though the venue took place at completely three different and unrelated places, the main characters remained the same. So did the acts and the words and the drama and others that followed, among other things.

The same eyes I had been staring into, looking for some definite answers that may be the only thing I would really love to know at this particular instance. The same hands that danced around me like angels do to a Christmas tree, touching me deep into my own core. The same smiles that brought me comfort and happiness throughout the nature of desolation that also, quite naturally, occurred to me at times.

The hugs, the kisses, the love.

What are all these, this streak of events that perfectly turned my days into my nights and my nights into days, on the account of how completely nonsensical time it is, for the way it decays. Is this some kind of joke?

Seriously, what reasons there may be, for you my mind, to have been having toying with me?


* * *

A balcony.

All I knew was, I was at an instant sudden appeared to be at a balcony, facing the sea, with only a bath robe on. Quite to my relief, the bath robe was black in color, not like any white other you could usually find off the shelf in Tesco or Giant, whichever store you prefer to go to. I was sitting on what appeared to be a sleek balcony chair, with both my arms resting on the armrests comfortable. In front of me was a small, round coffee table with a circular glass as its top and other parts made from metal.

And there she was, sitting with her legs crossed in front of me, a cup of steaming hot tea in her hand. She was wearing too a bath robe, only hers was soft pink in color. Her hair looked wet, to which I presumed she had just had her shower.

In my hand was a cigarette. I did not remember when I lighted it, but since it was there I took a puff of it anyway.

This place, the balcony, it seemed to be a place that I once visited quite some time ago. The setting sun shone quite strikingly but the sea breeze cooled me down as it blew. The weather looked promising, and the sea looked calm and blue as ever. At a far vicinity, one could inspect that the bluish surface of the sea changed gradually to greenish, somehow. I looked at the sea before I turned my attention to this person in front of me.

"Hello," I said.

She didn't reply. She sipped her tea once.

Twice.

Three times and that was it. She placed the cup onto its base on the table, next to what appeared to be some Danish pastries and fruit spread. I tapped my cigarette ash into the ashtray which was on the table too, and I stared at her.

"Hello," she said, "hello, lovely one."

I did not reply that but to look at her, inspecting all details. Everything seemed to be legit and original. I knew what wind usually does to her hair. I recognized that lips. I knew that posture she was currently doing. That was her voice. The way she talked and they way she stared. This brought me endless and total confusion, not to mention the awkwardness I was currently feeling at the time.

And then she laughed. "Kenapa," she asked, "you seem so surprised?"

I coughed a little.

"I," her smiles bothered me a little, "I am not supposed to be here."

"Why not?," she looked even more relaxed now. "Aren't you in love with me?"

"I was, yes," I said. "And apparently I still am, I guess."

"That's good."

"I guess so."

And then the conversation died.

"You are not supposed to be with her, you know?" she proposed a question.

"Her?" I said. "Her who?"

"Rosy cheeks."

"Uh-huh?"

"She worths not even your single penny, for I must say," she continued. "In fact, she is not supposed to appear in your life at all. A pure illusion she is. A phantasm, a fallacy."

"How did you know all these?" I have every reason to be curious.

"Don't bother." She took another sip of her tea. "I just knew. In fact I knew a lot of things about you, you know?"

I wanted to say something of my thought that moment. But on a second thought I preferred to just shut up.

"She isn't worth a chase, darling, at all nothing" she leaned forward and rested her both arms on her legs while doing so, "while me here, worths everything."

I thought about this.

"I didn't mean to be this way: no one consulted me or considered my feelings in the matter, not even you" she continued saying. "I don't think it even occurred to you that I might have feelings. After you left..."

"I left?" I interrupted her. When did I leave, I must ask her for an answer. She otherwise gave me the stare that caused me to instantly zip it. She then continued:

"...after you left I suffered a little bit at first and then it inclined to be a little too much. And me with this terrible pain of missing you. I called for succour in my loneliness, but did you come? Did you hell. My first and only true friend was our memories."

She leaned back to her chair. I thought this was a good time to say something, anything.

"Funny," I said, "how just when you think life can't possibly get any worse it suddenly does."

She took a pastry and cut it in between before gently filling the void with some of the fruit spread. She held it in one hand, stood up, came next to me and signaled me to not to cross my legs no more. She then sat on my lap.

She looked at me with a soft look. She brushed my hair and she played with my lips using her fingers.

"Oh how I missed you," she said.

"You did?"

"I did."

She played with my eyebrows. She brushed the back of her fingers slowly on my cheek. She put down the pastry. She rested then her hand on my neck and she pulled me gently towards her, to which she planted a quick peck on my forehead. Then she hugged me and placed her head next to mine, her cheek against mine. I could hear and feel her breath. The smell of her hair and the scent of her perfume struck my nose.

"I love you," she whispered to my ear. "I will always love you, no matter how much hatred I have for you inside."

She then stood up and slowly pulled me by the neck into the room. Cold breeze from the air-conditioning stroke my skin. The room was well and cozily lighted, just like the way I liked it when I left it last time. There were roses on the bed, to which I landed on quite a few seconds after by a push from her. She then went on top of me and stared me in the eyes, and a series of those perfect kissed followed.




Whatever happened after that, is self-explanatory.


* * *


I just don't get it.

I just don't know what to do or what to get, in order for me to get it.

This has got to be some kind of joke. For long I sat in my chair, thinking about the dream over and over the whole morning, feeding myself up with endless supply of hot instant coffee and Oreo.

I was in my wudhu'. I read the verses before I closed my eyes, to keep me free not only from devils' trick, but the devils himself. I even hugged the Holy Koran when I slept.

Now how could it possibly be, that the dream to appear to be just another devils' trick, yet another joke? Thinking about this has not only sent shivers to my backbone but also some sense of deep and dark curiosity into my mind, quite strong enough to keep me occupied with the thoughts all day long.

Why the ghost of girlfriend past came haunting, three days in a row? And why must it be you? Why not Ana Ivanovic or Lena Heady (I prefer Ana anyway) or the like? And what's up with the smiles and the hugs and the kisses? And whatever that happened after that, that is self explanatory? And the pastry?

What is this? Is this some sort of subliminal message? Is it? Is it a sign from God Himself? Is it a telling that something is going to happen? Is it just another way to cheer me up? Or is it just another mean dark joke? What is it? What is this, what are all these?! My God I am so confused and nervous that I could challenge a vacuum cleaner for a 100m sprint another one time around, and still lose the race.




I am afraid to go to sleep tonight.



Monday, October 26, 2009

Caught Up In Circles, Confusion Is Nothing New




* * *


Quite a rather wonderful and in the same time an adventurous weekend.

Well by all means I would like you you to know that I did enjoy the company.


* * *

And before you people start to speculate, it is within my best interest to make this clear to you that the act of speculating is

(a) a medium to attend, expose and explain to the world for other people around you to profoundly look and see at your disturbingly annoying and completely unnecessary attentive behavior, and
(b) stupid.

A picture tells a thousand words for a reason:- so that you do not need to do the talking.


The Perfect Kiss

Quite a lot of things happened today.

In the morning, I woke up to wait for the call for prayer. Firmly sitting on my rather old and weatherbeaten chair I thought for a while about the dream I have just had right a little more than a handful fifteen minutes from then.

Weird dream, I must say.

Weirder, it is still fresh till now that I see myself to have no problem at all describing it to you right now itself.

* * *

My coffee arrived at the table I was sitting.

Alone I was at that time, fashionably dressed in my favorite sweater and my old but comfortable jeans, feet covered with my white Paul Smith. It was rather quite at the premise, from which I discovered to be the place I occasionally come at times to spend my time with companies or with the exception of any.

There was a plate of fresh, full-ripe strawberries on the table, too, along with the cup of hot coffee.

There was nobody around in the shop and the breeze was quite cold, so I kept myself warm by hugging myself up in my own folding arms. The coffee was too hot to be had, so I decided not to touch it at all circumstances, though my throat was already at its driest.

Slow music played along in the background, of jazz. The sort of songs like Buble's 'Put Your Head On My Shoulder' and the like. The seat I was having placed me at a position facing the open concourse in front of the shop, putting me at ease to browse through any face that was to enter the shop or maybe just to cross pass it. But there was none, none to be observed. The place was empty, entirely.

Outside there, it rained lightly. The atmosphere was at its grayest, with a hint of blue and violet gleaming faintly at the sides of moving clouds. Early morning rain I was getting, along with a plate of fresh, full-ripe strawberries and a cup of decent, hot black coffee. The sort of situation I would have to describe as completely and staggeringly beyond anything perfect. The sort of situations that I would not mind to be having, spending my every precious seconds just sitting there alone, enjoying the rain and the cold breeze while pampering myself with a plate of strawberries and a cup of hot coffee.

And out of a sudden came into the shop a number of females, dressed in their most stylish, most posh and most vogue apparels. One was wearing the most extensively designed Kebaya Nyonya, complete with the scarf crossing her shoulder. Another with a combination of starch-ironed white working blouse and a long black slack, two large earrings hung by her ears and such stylish stilettos. Another in the most striking Kurong made from such fabric that only silk could match to, her hair was rolled into a bun, locked with a strike of traditional hair stick. And so on.

This had not only bring the atmosphere up, but to a whole new dimension. Out of a sudden, I was instantly surrounded with these female companies. They all sat down at the tables around me but mine. Which was a good thing, really, not because I was not expecting anyone nor I might be distorted from the fact that my lonely morning would be disturbed, but because of the fact that all of these women, these gorgeous women, were my ex.

They were the women who once sang to me vast amount of love songs, who carved oaths in stones for me and who once were the princesses of my life. Strange to have them, all of them, here together with me, sitting in their own chairs while their eyes fully locked on me, smiles carved in the brightest of all stars. And I stared at them all, one by one, from one end to another, repeatedly.

Nothing happened so far.

For a full two minutes, nothing continued to happen.

And then after two minutes, it happened.

Gently two arms made their way around my neck from behind. I could see them, covered in knitted pink cotton cardigan. They possessed this scent, a long forgotten scent that slowly put my in complete enchantment; such euphoria, such beatitude, such serenity that by milliseconds calmed me down into my own state of trance. Such scent that I missed for a very long time, and from this scent itself, I straightly recognized the identity of the person behind me. But I was too busy with the scent, so I didn't mind to turn around.

I felt the warmth of her skin beneath the cotton cardigan on my neck, of such enthusiastic ardor that blanketed me from the coldness around. The scent got stronger now that the arms were locked right beneath my chin. I closed my eyes and I rested my head on one of her arm, and instantly I felt such primrose path, the sort of things one could only describe as a total, perfect solace. The type of feelings that a baby would feel while sleeping in the mother's arms. Of comfort, of contentment, of peacefulness, beds and beds of roses.

With my eyes still closed, I could feel warmth hitting my right cheek and ears, the usual sensation one feels when somebody gets really close, right a few inches above the surface of naked skin.

Her right hand lifted and supported my head slightly tilted to the left. Then it brushed gently on my hair and the back of my neck, caressing them with care, so softly it brought me a whole new definition to my relative understanding to affectionate ecstasy. A set of moist lips pecked softly once on my cheek, followed by another one that lasted for a few seconds.

And then the arms lifted away, and so did the lips. Gone were then the hugs and kisses and warmth so pleasant, leaving me in complete coldness again, eyes still closed. But almost at an instant, I felt someone slowly sitting on my hips. A hand held to my neck, and almost as instantly too, I caught her back using my left arm when my other hand held to her waist.

I felt a hand caressing the skin on my cheek.

And this hand, this particular hand, pulled my head forward, for reasons I was not really clear about until something touched my lips, leading to what I believed to be a beautifully played, utmost sensational, perfect kiss. The moment of silence occurred, I could only hear constant ringing in my ears. And it lasted for merely a few seconds before the stir in my emotions settled.

When that was done, I opened my eyes, only to see that she was right like I expected her to be.

"It is you," I whispered in total awe.

"Of course it is me," she replied. "Surprised?"

I cleared my throat and wet my lips.

"Sort of, actually," I said, "but it doesn't matter already."

"Of course it doesn't," she then replied with smiles. "Nothing ever does."

I thought for a while about this.

"Whatever," I pulled her closer to me. "It is good to have you back."

We looked into the eyes of each other, staring deep into them, wandering deep inside each other's mind. As if I was looking for some sort of understanding in her, the same thing she was looking in me.

"Welcome back," I said, "I am glad it happens to be you."

"Thank you."

At this point I realized that all of my exes were staring at us two. Just for the effect, I pulled her closer and as if we were in such perfectly crafted mutual understanding, we closed our eyes and we kissed for another one time. And this had caused the crowd (the exes, of course) to give out such appreciative and loud applause round and round, with those cries of cheers of 'aww' and 'ahh' and 'oh my God that's so sweet!' sort of things. Every and each of them. They cheered so loud that for a while I thought that I have just won the US Open, me kissing the trophy. I felt a drop of tear, not mine but hers, dropped onto my cheek; one warm drop of tears slowly flowing down from her eyes down to my cheek and down, down down down....






I woke up.


* * *


Now this dream, it has not only caused me to sit down and think about it over and over, one part because it was strictly and beautifully sensational, one part because it was of whom I kissed, twice, and one part because I was still in complete shock and awe from it.

I looked into the mirror and there was a fresh stain of some sort of clear liquid rolling down my cheek. It started a few centimeter next to my nose, right at the point where her tear fell onto in my dream. Supernaturally confusing, really. But that didn't matter. What mattered was the person I kissed.




You. Why did you appear in my dream?





Sunday, October 25, 2009

Upon A Shooting Star

And there I was, lying on the finest stretch of sand on that beach in the darkest of nights, looking at the empty sky.

A nearby beach bar played some songs through their rather decent speakers, adding the mood to the atmosphere, though the sound faded in and out at times. Faint music suggested a slight hint of rock and pop in the playlist with the rest of R&B. Relaxing, very.

And then Nickelback's 'Gotta Be Somebody' came into play.

And it hit me.


* * *

It must be a wonderful night for you, I suppose.

Surrounded with relatives and friends, cheerful faces they possessed. Beautiful apparels and accessories covered you layers after layers, with such beautifully applied makeup and effects. Your fingers covered in brownish paint and you were treated highly in such traditions. All eyes on you, now. You smiled to them crowds, proud and happy, in the arms of his the man you just married.

It must be warmer in his arms.

And I thought about you the whole night long. Strange thoughts, though. But it was nice of you to wish me goodbye in such way by means of one last call, slightly a few hours before the knot was tied.

I still wondered why did you utter those words of how you missed me so and how you wished that I was there to share your happiness, to witness how it went and so on. About how sorry you were about us and how you wished you could turn back time and mend every little thing up. About how regretful you were that we were just a little to late for rescue.

And I still wondered why did you cry for a while, there, among other things.

But by all means, I wish you all the best with everything from now on. I hope he could still be a good guider for you, if he is not the better one yet the best, to lead you on life as never before and never again. I wish you luck and I wish you prosperity. And I wish you love for all life, in all eternity. I am happy for you, while in the same time I am sorry I could not make it for the event.

My heartiest and warmest congratulations for your wedding.


* * *

As I lied on the sand, I looked at the empty sky.

Almost as suddenly, a shooting star came appearing. 'Make a wish upon a star, makes no difference who you are,' they said. The faintly notable sound from the speaker comforted me while I looked at the line of light made by one shooting star.

Nobody wants to be the last one there,
'Cause everyone wants to feel like someone cares,
Is there somebody else that feels the same somewhere?
There has gotta be somebody for me out there.

I was happy with all I have right then. Lest the need for a wish upon a shooting star.





So I signal it with my lighter instead.




Friday, October 23, 2009

Coffee Break


A short update.

Went to Clearwater Sanctuary an evening sometime ago with the hopes to meet Vinny at the driving range but Vinny wasn't around so nothing could be done that evening except to linger around the main concourse and the clubhouse for some tea (read: anything but tea). Went there with the Mutton Curry Gang members instead.

Came back later that night, drunk on coffee.

Well here are some pictures.


Bhai and Timmy G. next to the carpark terrace.


Me & Bhai


Sunset as seen from the main concourse.


The Club Lake. At the other end was some folks playing in the green.


Our foods. Just look at how many glasses of coffees there. This was only the first round.



Tuesday, October 20, 2009

Lesson of the Day




Malaysia Airlines Boeing 747-400 taking off against the wind during storm in WBKK/BKI Kota Kinabalu International, making the way back to WMKK/KUL KLIA.


* * *

In order for you to soar against strong wind during the worst of storm, all you need are a set of perfectly working quad-turbines, strong flaps, good lighting and good eyesight. And these will not be complete without strong will and determination, braveness and effort, to having only one chance to take off. Every second counts 'cause there is no second try.

If today was your last day
Would you make your mark by mending a broken heart?
You know it's never too late to shoot for the stars
Regardless of who you are
And would you find that one you're dreaming of?
Swear up and down to God above?
That you'd finally fall in love
If today was your last day?

So Why Didn't You Call?



Woke up early around 6.00am in the morning today, for some reasons I do not anymore remember at this moment.

As usual by routine, I boiled some water and made some toast for breakfast. Had myself a decent cup of coffee, a glass of orange juice, a set of toast and also for some reasons I do not anymore remember, a large piece of salad with a bit of mayo on it. Once done with the food, I stepped out and sat at the edge of my block building while admiring the new sunrise then, with my coffee and a cigarette in my hand.

I felt so much alive, I must say.

Had my shower soon afterward. Did some facial shaving and scrubbing. Ironed my green Polo shirt and black pants, dressed them up and was ready for work when it happened. The usually-silent mobile phone suddenly rang out a message tone. Not very reluctant to even look at it, I took my time before actually attended to the message.

Little that I knew that the message made me stared for quite a long time.


* * *

"We broke up. Please advise. Please talk to me. I'm losing control."

At first it was far from my intention to reply the message. In fact, I wanted to delete it straight away. A few reasons there were: 1) I did not want to ruin my beautiful morning with relationship problems, 2) OTHER'S relationship problem, 3) she is an ex who left without even a 24-hour notice beforehand, 4) past histories between us that needed not to be told exactly here, but it is safe to assume that we ended up quite badly.

But I guess I am just too soft-hearted at times. Slowly I examined the situations and hell, she might needed my help anyway. So I called her up. Took a few calls before she actually answered the phone.

"Hello?"

No audible sound.

"Hello? You?"

The sound of a person breathing.

"You there? You okay?"

And she burst into tears right away.

"My God, woman," said I to myself, "this has got to be a disaster."

From the way she sounded, she must have already been crying at least for the last 6 hours. All I could have pictured about her was she in her pajamas, sitting at the corner of the bed in her dark room while hugging on her pillow in her folded legs, wet from her own tears, with a hand in her messy long hair and another holding the mobile phone. That was always her when she broke down.

Let's call her Sha.

"Kenapa ni Sha? Why, what happened?"
"He left."
Must be the guy she has been with, I guess. The guy who wanted to marry her so much that caused us to end up with a price.
"But why?"

Then she sobbed again and again and again before she finally told me the real situation. To tell the whole thing here might require me to write a full book of it and make myself a millionaire from the sell, so let's just say they broke up over a final, bitter argument over a certain reason that if I were the guy, well, I might think of leaving too. It has been a week, and this got to her pretty much badly.

So I spent half of my morning to help her out. Helping a relationship between her and him - the relationship I never really had the chance to have with her. Heck, I even called the guy to speak a word or two with him on behalf of this lady.

By the evening, she called to say that he was standing in front of her house with a bouquet of roses, with that stupid grin on his face.



Thank God you listened to me, you dick.


* * *


And then for some certain reasons, I and her we had this little chit-chat once the drama was over.

"So you're still single?" she asked.

"Yeah," I replied, "apparently."

"But why? Not that you can't get yourself any decent woman."

I laughed a little.

"Probably, Sha," I said, "probably I am still waiting for you."

"Ridiculous."

I laughed a bit louder when she said that. So did her. When the laughter settled, she started to speak again.

"You know, Nazmi," she paused for a while before continuing, "I did wait for some time in case you come back."

"Yeah?" I said. "Did you?"

"I did, yes," she replied. "But you never did call."

"Ah." All I could say was 'ah'.

"So why didn't you call?"

It took some time for me to think before I actually answered.

"Sha," I needed to swallow my saliva a few times before I said this, for past histories started to flash before my eyes, "you made me swore to you that night that I was not to contact you anymore. Never. So I kept to my words."

"Did you know how painful it was to wait for your call each night?"

"Pain!" I said. "Don't talk to me about pain."

This had caused us a long pause before I spoke again.

"I didn't know that you waited. I'd never knew, you'd never tell."

"Only if you know kan?"

"Too bad I am not a mind reader," I said, "and even if I was, I would be the worst mind reader after all."

"I should have let you know," she said before a short sigh. "Never did I know that you would stick to your words. I was mad then, you know?"

"Sticks to his words, a man should."

"And you have grown into a man, now. You were a man then you are a man now. And what regrets, what a waste that I chose a boy to love instead."

I could only smile.

"Goodbye, Sha," I finally said. "And congratulations for the wedding."



Monday, October 19, 2009

Kota Kinabalu International


7.00pm.

Back from work. A little too tired, a little too stressed out.

The roommate was not around, well not until Thursday.

Best friend was still on the way back from a mountain-hiking trip which I missed to join.

So I started the Microsoft Flight Simulator program.

Chose a Malaysia Airline Boeing 737-400ER in standard livery.

Chose an airport - WBKK/BKI Kota Kinabalu International.

Chose a terminal parking - passenger ramp no. 4, medium service.

Chose time - 6.30pm, October 19th 2009.

Chose weather condition - fair weather, clear sky with slight clouds.

Ground-maneuvered the plane to a taxiway, facing the setting sun, the beach and the active runway.

Turned off both turbines.

Smoked, drank a cuppa coffee and watched as one MAS and two AirAsia planes in fleet took off.


* * *


6.45pm, an Air Asia A320 took off, bound for KLIA


6.55pm, another Air Asia A320 took off, bound for Kuching.


A delayed Malaysia Airlines Boeing 737-400 took off, bound for KLIA


* * *


And then the runway was empty.

And I was still there, looking at the sunset.

And I never felt happier.


=')


Thursday, October 15, 2009

(Whatever the title is supposed to be)

The mission, well, it's a failure.

That's all, have a good day everyone.


* * *


This blog is now retired. Probably for a while, probably for long, probably for ever.


Wednesday, October 14, 2009

D-Day



This post is auto-published.

By the time you read this post, I would have already been away from my desk or any other places significant to me with available internet connections that make it convenient for me to go online.

It is well worth to note that this post was written a handful eight (8) hours before it was published.

Assuming that this post will be posted at the correct time as set, I hope that it is also safe to assume that this post will accomplish its objective close to or within the intended margins.


* * *



It should be now precisely a solid half-an-hour to 11.00pm.

And I should be by now precisely have positioned myself at point with certain set of coordinates made known to only a number of important persons, less than five in count, with a carefully calculated and reviewed many times over and over purpose. None of these important persons is significant today but only one. And this one person is the only who knows exactly the detail of how and why the place I am at right now is bloody noteworthy to me.

Now this persona too, is the reason why I cleared my schedules for some time from now today until when I finally call it off, in the pursuit to find the decisive, definitive and critical answer to the only question that happened to bother me for quite a while until I chose to find a closure for it. And only this persona holds the answer, the key to everything.

After going over so many calculations and judgments, taking accounts from every possible viewpoint, undergoing a series of re-planning and turnovers, back to square one and then optioning out, looking over the sheets and lists of possibilities and probabilities with noted and calculated risk factor, considering all methods to affirm percentage of positivism, and bearing in mind all errors and hope for the best, I hope that this decision of mine would be the most suitable and most promising.
And by the time you reach this part right here, I am currently juicing myself in my own faith and beliefs, and also a bottle of grape juice and whatnot, patiently waiting still.
* * *
I hereby declare and commence the ignition of D-Day.
Let's hope for the best now, do we not? And wait.

D-Day minus Hours



I am sorry as well, and I love you too.


* * *

Baby you know that I miss you
I wanna get with you
Tonight but I can't now
Baby girl and that's the issue

Girl you know I miss you
I just wanna kiss you
But I can't right now so baby
Kiss me through the phone

See you later on
See you when I get home.

'Kiss Me Through The Phone' - Soulja Boy Tell 'Em; 2nd single from the album iSouljaBoyTellem; 2008; Stack on Decks/Collpark Music.




Tuesday, October 13, 2009

Pursuit of Happiness

It somehow rained today during sunset.

I was with the boys again today, running out fast from the campus heading to Ipoh, in pursuit of happiness.

The sky looked so beautiful with glaring sun from between the forming, moving rain curtain. The road was full with traffic but was also moving perfectly smooth. The car cut into the pouring rain like Black Beauty does to the meadow field.

The escape was planned in order to make way for the preparation of tomorrow's big day, at least my big day. It had to be done this evening, because this evening, was the eve of October the fourteenth.


* * *


There was nothing weirder than to sing-along with Dewa on 'Pupus', one of the band's greatest hit when they first landed in the entertainment industry, especially by three guys and two of them are non-Malay.

But we did. And we did happily.

In my mind was all tomorrow. The future, which was going to hit in less than 26 hours then, less than 24 hours now. I have had prepared myself for it, for the very least at least, and I hoped and still that I will be in my best appearance when the time comes for me to make my entrance.


Dental appointment? Had my teeth bleached and cleaned.

Haircut? Done along with washing.


Guitar? Tuned to the very best.


Facial? Done.


Effects? Tomorrow I need to iron a bit the shirt and pants.


Spirit? High and somewhat nervous.



Now the time has come for me to prove my words. To fulfill my duty to all the things I promised, and to face this like a man.

Tomorrow, at the exact time one year back, I will be at the same place I was one year back too, reminiscing things. Let it be rains or storms coming my way, I will never take pull a step away. I will prove that I am not a man of mere nothing, even when all odds are against me. I will wait for a miracle to happen, and my, I am with all hopes that things will happen. And I will wait until they do.

Because all that worth the price is always worth the fight.

People, wish me luck and all the best.

* * *

"You sure about this?"

"I do."


"Even when the end might be some sort of punishing sadness for eternity?"


"I do."


"Good,"
he said. "You go, Jacky boy. Go catch your happiness."


I will do, brother, I will do.




D-Day minus 1



I miss you too.


* * *

Someday we'll know if love can move a mountain
Someday we'll know why the sky is blue
Someday we'll know why I wasn't meant for you

Someday we'll know why Samson loved Delilah
One day I'll go dancing on the moon
Someday you'll know that I was the one for you


- 'Someday We'll Know' - New Radicals; 2nd single from the album Maybe You've Been Brainwashed Too; 1999; MCA Records.

- Alternate: 'Someday We'll Know' - Mandy Moore & Jon Foreman; A Walk to Remember OST; 2002; SONY Records.


Monday, October 12, 2009

Order 66

Day #81

I looked at the sky this morning and I felt rather strange. Some of the things that I dreamed of somehow happened to be just like how they did in my dreams. Everything that happened seemed to be foreseen by me days before they did.

And this reminded me to Order 66.


* * *

The same dream again.

It has been four days now that I have been getting the same dream over and over. And this has very little to do with what I had been thinking about - almost entirely unrelated. At times when we think so much about something, we tend to dream about it.

But I did not think about it at all.

Four days I had been seeing you crying while you were looking at me in my dreams. And four days too that I had seen myself not only to lose sleep at nights but also to find myself sitting on my bed looking blindly at forming water drops from residing morning dews on the window while everyone else was sleeping, trying my very best to figure out what was going on - what was these dreams were all about? Were them some sort of signs? Some sort of messages? Some sort of being trying to tell me that there was something that I ought to know, that I must know?

And four days too I ended up being on the soft, blue mattress presenting myself before God Himself, to ask for His guidance and help after being awaken from such dreams. And so He listened, neverendingly. And from that moment onward, things slowly started to reveal the pages. Slowly help came appearing in my way.

It was not until today that I finally took the decision to do what I should have. This has gone way too out of control.

"Therefore God, I seek Thy guidance and assistance in order for me to seek the truth; in order for me to seek my own happiness; and there be O' Lord no barricades at all between me and my objectives; and if shall there be, in Thee I bury my trust and faith and in Thee I truly believe, and I pray for Thy protections from everything evil, for I am now facing the most difficult times of my journey so far.

I call upon the spirits of the Haqqani, and I summon the fellowship of the supreme Naqshbandi Order and the ties of Muhammadyyah for their prayers and supports in order for me to deal with these difficulties.

Makbulkanlah doaku, peliharalah diriku, keluargaku dan orang-orang yang aku sayang, bentengkanlah aku daripada perbuatan aniaya, dan pulangkanlah kesakitan yang aku alami kerana angkara orang-orang yang berhasad dengki, kerana sesungguhnya Ya Allah, aku adalah di antara umat Muhammad-Mu yang telah sekeras-kerasnya dizalimi."


I am sorry for doing this. But I felt even sorrier to myself that I had to.

God be with me.


* * *

'Known associates, it is time. Execute order 66.'

- 10.50pm, 12th October via Twitter.com





Sunday, October 11, 2009

In Mere Seconds

Day #80.

Here I am on my chair, wide awake like a recently-awoken baby, looking around the room with a cigarette in one hand and a ruler in the other. I pretty much understand that the cigarette is for me to consume, but I am not sure about the ruler.

A house lizard just walked past the window.

A mug of coffee stands before me. I don't remember when I last used that mug. But I am pretty much certain about how the mug ended up in my room, and the person who gave me the mug.

She's right there in my Google Talk right now. Just a click away.

Just a click away.


* * *


Have you been in a tight situation where you saw the thing you have always wanted just a few inch away from you, but you did not reach out a hand for it because you were somewhat afraid that it does not even belong to you in the first place?

Imagine this: You see someone from which you missed so much in front of you but did you hell. You take a step one foot to the left (or right in certain cases) trying to be out of their way/vision, because you were afraid that just by saying the simplest 'hi' will cause a butterfly effect. And for this reason you decide to hide in the shadows, instead.

In your mind, things raced wide and around like a typhoon full with suggestions and doubts. You will be thinking, you will try to reason things out. In your mind, a part of it will torture you with doubts and uncertainties and bad comments, while the rest supports you, urging you to go ahead and do it anyway.

But for these reasons, you cannot make up your mind. You hide in the shadow hoping that you finally make it up, and by the time you did they are no longer there.

And the voices in your head get even louder. They said, "you are a plain nothing but just a coward." And so on. And for some cause, they affect you quite badly.

But you know, it is not cowardice at all. Being afraid is entirely normal. There is no such thing that makes you a coward by not pursuing something before you are done with your decision, complete with risk factor analysis and calculated error using every method possible, from the range of conventional statistics to numerical approach.

So you tell yourself that, "I should have done what I should." And that encourages the evil side of you to push you down even harder, which in the end you see yourself to settle at the same ground zero. You get this over and over, until somewhat it reaches a tipping point that will give you only two choices: get there, or get the hell out.

It is within my most excitement to inform that currently, I am on the way to this point.



* * *
Day #81 00:01


She went offline in just mere seconds.




D-Day minus 3




I hope so, too.

* * *

Got some words on cardboard got your picture in my hand/ Saying if you see this girl can you tell her where I am?


Transmission Ends



"I'm sorry I lied."

Rosy Cheeks; 1.58am, 11th October 2009.

* * *

It has been days since I first had this clearly unnatural and somehow unexplained uneasy feeling so severe that I found myself at times to be very affected by it. This uneasy feeling, not only it made me sit and think for hours of what it may be for it might be some sort of signals of caution that I might need to be alert to, but it made me to feel somehow terrified in the manner of knowing that something bad will happen soon even without the knowledge of what is it actually. The hunch - these tingling pokes of hidden telling - suggested that I have to be sharp at all times, for whatever it may turned out to be, it would affect my life somewhat negatively. And days went by without me getting not even the slightest idea about it nor having anything to do about it except telling my friends that, "I've got this one nasty bad feeling that I do not know about."

Today, I finally understood what the hunch was all about.


* * *

It had been a very busy week, and nothing rewards me more than a decent cup of hot, creamy coffee. Finally broken free from all the things that chained me from all the errands - research, laboratory demonstrations, meetings, conference papers, work trips etc. - I decided to go to the usual Old Town Coffee shop we've always hung out at at the outer ring but still in the vicinity of the tiny little town of Ipoh.

Crowded, the place was. It was 11.30pm, roughly, and also it was the night before Sunday from which everyone went out in the pursuit of pleasure and whatnot. I was with two close friends, and instead of spending/wasting time finding one pleasurable spot for us to settle down for the next three hours, we just sat down at the only available table first visually-observed. The atmosphere was humid and warm, the typical atmosphere of the tropics, only that it was warmer tonight than usual. And this was the reason why I ordered myself a glass of cold 'gao' white coffee instead than the earlier choice.

And then we talked. We talked about our favorite subjects - from the all-serious Schrodinger's findings, Occam's Razor application, applied physics, advance mathematics etc. to the hysterically hilarious Douglas Adam's trilogy of four stories and the postponed (by rough assumption from rough estimates) attack of the Indonesian-born Bendera troops that was to leave for Malaysia yesterday by air, land and sea with nothing but just some homemade, humble bamboo sticks.

We laughed and we enjoyed our coffees. The air was cheerful and dandy. Everyone was having good times and it was good since it would be very hard for us three to meet during weekdays for that we were pretty much attached to our researches, so weekend like this would be the best time to sit together and have this boys moment all over again. But this hunch, it still was there at the corner of my heart, and was bothering me in such a way that it barricaded me from having my moments at their full capacity.

As I was trying to figure what the negatively-suggesting hunch was all about - of what kind of situation it was trying to warn me about - it happened.


* * *

Now what would you feel, when something shocking was revealed to you before your very own eyes, without you being even prepared for it at all? I am sure that many of you have had this kind of experiences.

It happened before my very own eyes.

I was trying to figure what the negatively-suggesting hunch was all about, so I pulled away from the conversation the boys were currently having by looking into the inside of the shop through the glass wall of the automatic door (we chose to sit outside for the love of tobacco), and I saw her. I saw rosy cheeks. She was sitting at the corner of the shop, not entirely facing me nor the boys, and her vision was impaired by the fact that all lights inside were reflected back into the shop by the glass walls, causing everything outside the walls to be completely difficult to see. And this could be the reason why she didn't notice that I was there, too. Now did that shock me? Of course not. Not at all.

But what did was that there was a guy next to her, and from the look of it, I assumed that they have known each other for some time - they talked, they joked, they laughed, they patted each other - and that led me into another assumption that they were just friends. And then that skinny, fair-skinned boy who dressed up in obviously one of the most wrongly-picked combination of shirt and shorts kissed that rosy cheek of her and held her hand, from which she replied with a hug: the kind of hugs you only receive from a lover.

And I saw these from beyond my eyes. My own eyes. Only if you could imagine how things started to stir in me.

But I could be wrong, like the last time it occurred with Abang Man, even when I was very positive that she was Rosy Cheeks, at an easily a hundred-and-twenty-thousand percent guarantee. So just for the check, I texted her up through my mobile. Slowly I peeked at her and saw how she took her phone and checked it through, typing some words, hit the send button and placed it back into her brown tote bag.Not a moment later, my phone rang its message tone.

Earlier I asked her her whereabouts and what she was doing at the moment, to which she replied:

"I kat umah. Tgk TV."

My curiosity about the hunch was finally satisfied.


* * *

Now let's examine my feelings.

Furious at first, upon knowing that Rosy Cheeks was nothing but simply a (you fill the blank here with any word of your choice). I believed her when she said she didn't have anyone to love. I believed her lies. And that made me furious for not only trusting her but the failure of seeing this from the very beginning.

But then the fury then was reduced to simply nothing. Nothing at all. I was not entirely disappointed too after a clear review of my feelings. In fact I was glad for some reasons. After all, I and Rosy Cheeks we never made the call for a tie in the name of love (or whatever it is) and trust (which was non-existence since day one).

So I decided to leave with the boys when I recognized my position in the situation, but not before I made my last appearance in front of Rosy Cheeks who was at the time resting her head on the boy's shoulder.

I assure you that she could never be anymore terrified than to see me standing less than ten feet away, with two of my hands in the pockets of my shorts, my head looking at them, smiling. And I assure you too, that that terrified look she made on her face will stay there for a very, very long time. The boy however, was in deep confusion. Obviously he seemed to be 'well-played', too.

I didn't even talk to them. I took out my right hand and made a 'peace' sign using my fingers, only that the two fingers were in a position where they stood close next to next instead of standing apart. I kissed the two fingers and waved them, no, her, goodbyes. And then I left, with such confidence and style, to join the boys who were waiting for me outside.


* * *

"I'm sorry I lied."

I looked at the fresh message and decided to delete it, including her number. I'm sorry I believed you, Rosy Cheeks, but no more. So long, Rosy Cheeks. Nice knowing ya.





Transmission ends.



Friday, October 09, 2009

The Memorable Flight



Malaysia Airlines Boeing 747-400 about to land at Kota Kinabalu International.

Click on the image for best view.



* * *

Maybe surrounded by/ A million people I/ Still feel all alone/ I just wanna go home/ Oh I miss you you know?/

Let me go home/ I’ve had my run/ Baby, I’m done/ I gotta go home/ Let me go home/ It will all be all right/ I’ll be home tonight/

I’m coming back home

'Home' - Michael Bublé; It's Time; 2005; 143 Records, Reprise.

I dreamed about you last night, you know?


Going Aviation

These are the best sunset photos of the crafts I had been flying using Microsoft Flight Simulator. Please refer to the title below every picture for more detail.

Leave some comment if you'd like to. Much appreciated.


* * *


Air Asia Airbus A320-200 en route to KLIA from Penang International during sunset. Cruising at 29,000ft altitude and 290knots.


The same scenery as above, seen from inside the cabin.


Air Asia Airbus A-320-200 final descent to KLIA flying over Kuala Lumpur at roughly 7000ft, 220knots.


* * *


Virgin Atlantic Airbus A380 cruising at 32,000ft above sea level at the speed of 500knots from Sydney International to KLIA.


The same scenery seen from the cockpit window.


* * *


Malaysia Airlines Boeing 777-2H6ER in Heliconia livery taking off Runway 32R, KLIA


Malaysia Airlines Boeing 777-2H6ER in Heliconia livery midflight maneuver at 30,000ft, 500knots.


* * *

And lastly,


The memorable flight - Malaysia Airlines Boeing 747-400 taking off at Runway 32R KLIA at 5.35pm on a special mission, bound for Kota Kinabalu International.