The Muruku Murmurations

The new year is just around the corner. After having a sit down chat with one of my very, very good friends, we both got wired to write and came up with some lines for my Post-It Poem. Then it progress to grow into this. Written for the times we were in darkness for too long and it is time to look towards the new light. The eclipse will soon end and upon the Earth the sun's light will shine again, Thus ends my struggles with the darkness, Here the chapter closes with forgiveness, The tearing of my soul shall cease & so will my pain. No longer the need of enduring duress in hoping for some kind of gain, Attempting to uphold a pointless love in vain, As there truly nothing left of what remains, The light embraces me with warmth, I am now, free & sane. -  SY and A Special Friend 05:25H 2nd December 2015 61 Wong Clan + Slim River

Once upon a time very close to the end of the year in 2010, I was dubbed the Ghetto Girl and the Ghetto Crew was born. Somewhere down the lines I morphed into several different things, shadowing and shelving that girl that I was. See, you'd have to had known her to understand the full impact of the title - but I was fearless, unapologetic for the person that I was, and fierce in believing I could do things. Boy, was I fierce. Five years (six, in a couple of hours!) on, I let people who were barely worth my time break me down, and at the end of that charade, I decided no more. Ghetto Girl needed to make a comeback, and here she is, better than she was before. More practical, more focused and sturdier than she was before.  To his words I did heed, But the undeniable fact is that this love I bleed, He took a month then walked away, Then expects me to just be okay. I am angry & I have every right, With every ounce of my soul I did fight, But did that matter in th

This came from a random game of ' Charades' with plenty of puns, word play and excitement. This price is out of my range, I only have a pocket full of change, Unfortunately I don't have that paper cash, Or those plastic cards that people flash. I am just plain and simple, Belonging to a class in the middle, Just a steward of what isn't mine, With a pocket full of sunshine. - SY 01:35H 17/11/2015 Federal Highway

Although it's been said many times, many ways, Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays! When you think of Christmas, what comes to mind? Is it the gifts under the tree? Is it the time spent with family? Or is it both of those combined? Christmas to me is time spent with family, The ones we don’t often see, Christmas to me is the presents under the tree, The ones that were specially chosen for me. Christmas to me is celebrating that blessed baby, Who on this night many years ago, was born to save you and I, And gave us the greatest gifts of our lives, That’s Christmas to me.  - JN 6.25pm, 23/12/2015 (Wednesday) Home, Kelana Jaya

Tis the season of Christmas! So goes the phrase, 'It is better to give than to receive'. Many times we either give too much or get taken advantage of our kindness. AD and I murmur about our giving and how it should flows out of the goodness of God. When will I learn that I should never give, What isn't worth giving, Ignoring the countless chances to live, The life I should be living. Think of it as great to give when there is nothing to gain, To continue that sacrifice even if it causes you pain? At times it is better to refrain, Or else there would be nothing left that remains. I am more glad that you are a natural at that, It does come as second nature to be exact, Giving is better than receiving, a well known fact, Any small act of kindness will leave a great impact. Yes, even more so when you are in pain, It does lead me to questions if I am insane. You are only sane if you can feel the pain! It's best to leave things as simple and plai

Once your heart has been obliterated, you never really come out the other side quite the same. Words that use to tantalize you and thrill you and make you smile coyly now just get an eyeroll. This poem is about rejecting any new idea of romance, because you're not ready, you're still hurting and you're emotionally unavailable.  "I think you are amazing & really pretty." Once upon a time that would have earned you a heartfelt "Aww", but these days every semblance of romance must be met with suspicion. You cannot trust these boys whose brains are emotionally misplaced, Replaced by an organ not so close to their face. I see you trying, you're texting me regularly, It's great, you're funny & you use the apostrophe correctly. But you can dot all the i's and cross all the t's, I know if I let you, four months down the road you'll bring me down to my knees. And no, no way, I am barely surviving, Scr

Indulging in the arts regardless of any form has been the utmost best thing I could do with my time if I had all the luxury to do it. Unfortunately, when you start, it becomes an addiction. A n uncontrollable craving for more. Because it is so vast and interesting, you would never want to stop. With some inspiration from Train's 'Drops of Jupiter' I bring you the murmurations of an artistic soul. An artistic soul is a wild child of mysterious potions, Who loves life and passion, Any form of expression, Is a very sweet nectar of temptation. She can choose to deny as she did before, Or have a taste and crave more, Be it song or dance, she desires to explore, Even write or paint from the walls to the floor. She meets someone who made her feel in an instance, There was absolutely nothing in resistance, Tremblings and quivering in the deafening silence, Awaiting the words that would travel through the distance. His fleeting was like a shooting star,

Last Monday marked the 5th anniversary of my grandmother's passing and I thought I'd just remember her in a poem.  From the day I was born, you were always there, Surrounding me with your tender loving care, You took care of me for years, Showered me, fed me and wiped away my tears. When it comes to food, I am a little bit picky, Therefore you always insisted on feeding me, And because getting me to eat meat was tricky, You'd hide it in the rice without me knowing and feed it to me. When you made thosai for Christmas, You'd make mine specially, Because you knew I liked thosai with ghee, I've never tasted any other thosai quite as delicious. Any excuse I get, I'd spend with you at your house, Along with my grandfather, your spouse, And because of your insomnia, we'd spend half the night talking, We'd talk about basically everything. You'd tell me about the old days, When your hair had not a strand of grey, You'd tell me abo

So when a relationship ends, it is truly just the beginning of the torture of being constantly reminded of the person and what used to be. When it was a long relationship, the reminders you accumulate stack up, and haunt you. This poem is about the ghosts that haunt me, and the person whom I still love very much despite the fact that we weren't a right match for each other.  First of all let me say this, This poem is not to be confused with that Haunted song by Taylor Swift, Although, it is a pretty great song, But nevermind that, let's move along. Our relationship ended the morning of the 6th of May,  It was close to 2am that Wednesday, There was an argument & your temper flared, Hours after I went & chopped off all my hair. And that was when it was really truly over, The relationship had died but if only I knew, That the death of this relationship, Was the beginning of all the hauntings by the ghosts of you. They live in everything &

Sometimes you just have to accept that the ship has sailed & it wasn't meant to be. Sometimes, you're just too late. Also, if you're not going to fight for it, your feelings don't really count. This is to the first girlfriend I ever had, who probably never really deserved me anyway.  Stop, stay where you are. You & I, we were never meant to go far. I waited for you for three years & I prayed, That you would make up your mind, but you never stayed. My heart was like an egg in a spoon, You kept dropping it & picking it up making me feel like a loon, With your indecisiveness & need to people please, You were to me a cruel & thoughtless tease. You hurt me repeatedly & then played dumb, My disappointment for you made me incredibly numb, Then you dare come back now & tell me I'm the one, That everyone else was just for some fun. You say that you love me to my face, And in the same breath tell me you have a boyfriend in a

Thank you.  When we were together, I didn't really thank you, So thank you for being you and for loving me too. Thank you for being my first, And for loving me even when I was at my worst. Thank you for sticking with me for those two years, And helping me conquer my fears. Thank you for standing up for me, Even though the consequences were crazy. Thank you for letting me go, Maybe someday I will understand why, who knows? Thank you for taking a chance on this timid little girl, You may not know this but you made my whole world. - JN 11.32pm, 14/12/2015 (Monday) Home, Kelana Jaya

'Letters From Last Night' writes of heartache and pain. The cause, not being loved but allowing yourself to love. There are some things that will stay but nothing lasts forever. Another lyric inspired piece , this time, fueled by the words of Ed Sheeran's 'Photograph' Love is a powerful thing, An emotion. An action. A reason. To love is to be unconditional, That is the only love worth anything, It is with uncontrite passion, It is nothing but irrational. The exposure to vulnerability, To open up your heart and soul, Then let you in to the deepest parts of my being, Making promises with sincerity, Believing every thing you told, Not holding back and always giving. Loving can hurt sometimes, Because we allow our walls go come down, Allowing all to be out in the open, Apparently it can't be helped at times, Our protective guard, our thorny crown, We shut it down because we never learnt our lesson. Love not the only thing I know, I

Sometimes walls need to speak and tell their story. You are full of excuses, You blame your circumstances. But life is full of hit and misses, Unfortunately those are my defenses. You always play the victim card, Always saying life is so hard. Your advises I don't discard, Still my challenges you shouldn't disregard. You never take responsibility, Always saying it's out of you capability. I admit my faults and disability, I still gave it a shot with all my capacity. You think that saying sorry is enough, You run away when things get rough. Unlike you, I'm not as tough, I'd rather be the apologizing fool than a bullying buff. I speak my mind and won't just tolerate, I mean well and push you out of this state, You have been going at this unproductive rate, It's about time you did something and have a confident gait. My shoes are little that I know, My heart is breakable and it shows, Please don't use th

People tend to be surprised at how much of a hopeless romantic I am given the circumstances.  You asked me how I am still a hopeless romantic, Even though life has given me all the reasons to be a cynic, I told you that no matter what life throws at me, A hopeless romantic is what I will always be. You asked me how I still believe in all those sweet gestures, Like sending old school snail mail love letters, I told you it was something about the feelings they gave me, And how they made people happy. You asked me how I believe in always and forever, And in a love can survive whatever weather. I told you that I needed to believe, Because without hope, I wouldn't be able to breathe. - JN 4.30pm, 7/ 12/2015 (Monday) Home, Kelana Jaya

Dedicated to our sister in rhyme, who is happy, free, confused, and lonely at the same time. For tonight's the night she can forget about the deadlines. [Taylor Swift] She is finally feeling like she is approaching her almost quarter life crises but you know what? It's all good because, "I think the future is whatever I'm willing to make it."  -David Cook Lots of love and we always got you back. She is a woman defined by her own definitions, Her very words and thoughts spoken with unbridled passion, Endless is her love and care for those close to her, Regardless of the cause, she will always rectify the matter, In times of trouble, she will be there on the double, Let her sleep or you will hear her mumble and grumble. Blazing her own trail, not caring about what people say, Undeniably captivating, making heads turn all the way, She's got a fire in her heart that says she'll make it, Take our word for it, she will never give u

This poem is to the love that never fails me, that never falters, and who is always there when I am in need of comfort. Happy Birthday to me, everyone have some cake today!  Eat me. Cut through my layers slowly, then whisk me up in a swift movement & place me slowly in your mouth. Taste me. Feel that softness on your tongue, wrap your mouth around it and chew me slowly. Swallow me. Feel me slide down your throat so smoothly, and savour in that moment before I disappear into you forever. Have another. Do it all over again, let me make you feel the euphoria repeatedly. Moan about how good I am, I love that. Have a drink. Wash me down with something sweet or bitter when its over, as you sit in that quiet satisfaction after devouring me & eating all your feelings. Rest now, for my job is done. Love, Cake. - SB 2.53pm, 20th Oct 2015 Ghetto HQ

Bad things happen to good people. Sometimes you can't do anything but stand by and watch.  I hate that this has happened & frankly I can’t tell you why, Or how she could have just packed up and said goodbye, There is little I can do to help you sleep at night, I know you’re too broken to put up any kind of fight. I wish words could fix this & that time will heal the pain, I watch as day by day you grow into a person full of disdain, I know that there is no amount of good food, That would put you in a better mood. Compared to yours, my heartache is small, I still have time to build up some walls, But I know you feel it is all too late, This pain seemingly seals your fate. But please I implore just open your eyes and see, How vibrant and new your life could be, I beg you please get up and take a step, You don’t need a guide or a road map. All you need is some courage and new perspective, A new lifestyle will be effective, In cu

Whatever that is thrown your way, I know you'll make it through.  I'm not good with words, But you said to me, "Everyone deserves to be heard" That gave me confidence, And made all the difference. That's the kind of amazing person you are, A girl with the biggest heart, With so much wisdom to impart, I just know you're going to go far. I know right now things may be rough, But I've never seen a person quite as tough, And when you feel like you can't go on, Always remember you have me to lean on. When everything is not going your way, When your blue skies turn grey, Just know that you will survive your hardest days, And that you're going to change the world someday. - JN 5.51pm, 7/ 12/2015 (Monday) Home, Kelana Jaya

This one is called 'Sutures'. When our hearts are slashed up, crushed and wounded, we just need someone to show us some loving and caring. Even though it's hard and I may not be the best person to, but I will try to be there for you. l pick up strings of tender and loving care, I'm not good in surgery but I will give it a try, To do the almost impossible but I'll take up the dare, Even if through the process there will be tears to cry. Time pierces our fragile hearts inch by inch, So sharp and deep the cuts that were left, Soon the numbness will leave and feel way more than a pinch, To many words we will pretend to be deaf. Soon enough you see it all come together, One tug of our hearts strings, The lightning will clear from the stormy weather, Clearer skies and rainbows like how it is in spring. From a far, you will see, the sutures all intact, All the wounds soon turn into well healed scars, That beautiful heart of yours has the power t

I wrote this after listening to 'Breaking The Habit' by Linkin Park. All of us are going through something at every point of our lives and there will always be a turning point that will change us and give us faith. The days can be long, The demands get rough, Don't know where to belong, But enough is enough. Life seems to just pass by, Day by day, Tick tock! Time goes bye-bye, Who is to say. Life so precious, Life so dear, But we, so careless, Many times, no fear. We turn away, Get distracted and drifted, Let ourselves go astray, But it's not where we are fitted. It's time to come home, Back to our roots, Be sure, you are not alone, We all have our disputes. Strongly! Boldly! Swiftly! Keenly! Jump into the rivers of life, Without looking back, Despite the strife, You are renewed with no lack. Take My hand, Wake with Me, See My land, Filled with milk and honey. Lay in My pasture, Where there be no need,

"Poetry is the rhythmical creation of beauty in words." - Edgar Allan Poe.  Poetry, You have changed me, You've made me see, That I do have a voice, And if I want to say something, that's my choice. You have given me courage, That I never knew I had, When I write, it makes me feel glad, And I never feel discouraged You have shown me a new world that is poetry, Where words are put so eloquently, And rhymed almost perfectly, To retell one's story. Thank you poetry, For showing me how fun rhyming can be, And for sometimes being my form of therapy, Thank you from lil' old me. - JN 4.30pm, 30/ 11/2015 (Monday) Home, Kelana Jaya

The Sisterhood has been having a long tiresome week and been wanting to go for a soothing much needed 'hot tile/sweat spa' session. I really need to go to the sweat spa, My back is giving me hell, Would be so nice to have some ' ocha ', Whilst feeling rested and well. My back is giving me hell too, I wish one day this sweat spa trip would actually come true, We tried to go so many times, But the plan fails every time. Steady on ladies it'll happen for us, Even if we have to make a really big fuss, I don't care, we're going to sweat spa soon, Even if we have to bring down the moon. To bask in a heated room, Close my eyes and breath deeply, Look at the big picture instead of in zoom, Open up my mind and exhale gently. It will be nice to just sit back and relax, While lying on heated tiles that does wonders for our backs, Yes, soon we shall do what is deemed impossible, And overcome every obstacle. Regardless of the weath

Sometimes poetry is the only outlet you have, when you're stuck in a weird in-between waiting on someone to decide whether they want to be with you or not. It's not exquisite, but it is torture. And I would never wish this on any of you. This was inspired by a picture I took.  If I could write a note for you, I wonder what it would say. Would it tell you about what I am up to, Or would it say I missed you today? Would it tell you about my sleepless nights, And how I wake up wishing I had missed your call? Or would it talk about my internal fights, About whether or not to rebuild my walls? It would be written with the tears I have cried, Or the blood that runs through my veins, Because to be patient every day I have tried, But as the day goes by I am slowly going insane. So instead of writing a note I instead write poems and listen to songs, As I sit around wondering if to you I still belong, It is Day Seven of this crippling uncertainty, If I were to write

Sometimes people you know become strangers, and you have to get to know them all over again.  "You seem familiar." If I look very carefully, in your eyes I can see that same person who used to smile at me, eyes creased with laughter from my terrible jokes, and from smirking at me all too much. "Have we met?" In those places where we used to go, hand in hand we thought we'd take on the world. We'd enshrine our first meeting place forever in our hearts & revisit the place where it all began & started. "Was it through...?" In the company we once shared, the friends who love us both yet separately as we stopped loving each other. United it was easy but now in this divide they partition their love & try to strike a balance. "I think I saw you on..." There's no hiding from social media, and the walls you once posted on, papering with promises & words oh so funny and sweet are now papered with my words of caut

I meet strangers on a daily basis, and at the end of the hour I would have gotten to know them way more than anyone should. It goes a little bit like this... Dear Stranger, Let me introduce myself, As I pull your records from the shelf, Oh! I see it is your first time here, I need to ask you some questions, just to be clear. What is your full name? Is the address stated here still the same? Who do you stay with? Do you take the stairs of lift? Do tell me about your occupation, And about the conditions of where you are stationed, Do you eat out frequently, Or cook at home diligently. Tell me about you family, Any illnesses or malignancy? I'm going to invade your privacy, I have to ask about your social history. Do you like to experiment? Indulge in things that enhance entertainment? Have you recently gone out of bounds, Yes, I do need to know your sexual background. Now on to what has made to unwell, Please tell me when did this first swe

My parents have always told me not to talk to strangers so I decided to write to a stranger instead.  Hi there stranger,  I was told not to talk to you,  My parents warned me that talking to you could lead to danger, So sorry if I seem a little rude and just walk right on through,  But the truth is, you don't look so bad,  In fact, I think you look pretty rad,  I hope you have a good day,  All the way from Monday to Sunday.  - JN 5.30pm, 24/ 11/2015 (Monday) Home, Kelana Jaya

Mirrors, glass, life... Once broken, CAN be fixed but the effects of what was once shattering events will remain. The only way is to move on and gain a fresh, NEW perspective of things. Shed new light, gain new experiences, write new endings to your future. Change the mirror you see yourself in. Change the glasses of which you see life through. Change the way you look at life and make decisions according to the untap potential that lies within you. The fact is the past exist but it doesn't mean you need to keep the broken pieces. Clean it up, throw it away and exchange it for something better, everybody deserves second chances. Shattered. Battered. Altered. Tampered. Take us down. No one sound. We are bound. To this frown. Taken. Shaken. Forsaken. And mistaken. On your own. Left alone. To be stoned. For your tone. Cannot mend. What was bent. Need to vent. Clear this tent. Never the same, No one to blame, Because it came, Bo

People sometimes are quick to judge. They tend to make assumptions based on stories they've heard. Starting today, let's all try not to judge people and assume things.  You sit there and judge me, Without even knowing me, We've never spoken or even met, Yet you see me as some kind of threat. You sit there and judge me, And say my experiences shouldn't be bled out into poetry, But when you listen to songs, What do you think those lyrics are based on? So it's ok for you sit there and judge me, But it's not ok for me to write my feelings? I'm sorry but that's crazy, And don't get me wrong, I'm not judging. You sit there and judge my friend, You don't know how much of her heart she had to mend, Her only form of escapism is to write, You don't know all the demons she had to fight. You sit there and judge my friend, Maybe you meant well and that's why you went to that extent, But there is a difference between being c

I take my maternal grandfather out on a regular basis. He is my only living grandparent left, and ever since I was born, we've been close. When I used to go back to Sitiawan, where my mother is from, my grandfather would take me for ice kacang and laksa by Lumut beach, and now that he lives here in KL, I take him out for artisan ice cream. Times have changed, but the relationship hasn't. So this one is for the baddest #BadassKongKong out there.  She held onto his hand. The other grasping onto the ice cream cone he had bought for her, and she skipped along to his footsteps. She held on tight to his hand, tighter than she did the ice cream cone. Her little 6-year old hand barely fit into his bigger one, and she looked up at him, smiled, and happily continued licking her ice cream. She barely paid attention to where she was going, because she knew that with her hand in his, she’d be safe. He held onto her hand. He grasped on it tightly. Almost like he was afraid o

Word to the wise: when a person makes you a promise, shake on it instead of use your pinkies.  You made me promise. You made me promise a forever I wasn’t sure was going to be there. The way you had asked me, was almost like a dare. I promised you I’d stick it through, And in the end what did you do? You broke the promise and severed all ties, Too late I realized the promises were all lies. So here is the lesson I learned, It is so much safer to play with fire and get burned. Also that pinky promises are for small children with full hearts, Who would take it seriously & do their part. - SB 12.24am, 22 nd November 2015 Ghetto HQ 

I take pinky promises seriously.  The pinky promises we made, The ones we said we would take to the grave, The ones that we said cannot be broken, The ones that have now been forgotten. It meant so much to me, When you didn't think I was silly, And didn't think I was crazy, For taking pinky promises very seriously. I stuck to all my pinky promises, no matter big or small, But along the way, it lost its importance to you, And when you said, "I don't know what to do," I realized then that to you they meant nothing at all. - JN 5.30pm, 24/11/2015 (Tuesday) Home, Kelana Jaya

This letter is written to one of the many who have supported me during my journey in the Medical Department during my stint in Ampang Hospital. I was only but an 'infant', Two week old, lacking any form of maturity, Barely coping with the department, Unable to run the default mechanism of adaptability. I cried out for help like a babe, You didn't pick me up or hand me a pacifier, You thought maybe I was a mabe, Needed to be cultured so I could be mounted and withstand fire. You made time and sat me down, A turmoil in the midst of a wreckage of thoughts, You dug into my history of when I was out of town, Of my prequel, episodes and many onslaughts. You asked what I would do, Ready to pull the plug on that blinky neon sign, The type of bulbs people would replace and not fix or pursue, To end this journey in healing that wasn't exactly mine. You told me to clear my head and listen, To hear what you had to say, Gave me tissues when my eye

One of those night of insomnia can some how bring out the rhymes that will turn your mind inside out. With some help from my 'sandman' friend who shall be known as ' Dusty' . Equal credits go to Dusty for this creation. Here is the Sandman working his magic on an insomniac. Some days it gets so cold inside, Her bones ache and and the pain resides, She closes her eyes and thoughts begin to wonder, Where would she disappear to if she could wander. Sandman whispers: Beyond the lands, the clouds call to her. Soft, fluffy and full of wonder. She whispers: Sandman come and drizzle your sand, It has crossed twelve on the hour hand. The Sandman wards off the naughty imps that scamper about, Picking at her mind and messing with her aloud. "What this?" They say... 'How about...?' They wonder, What thoughts may you have on the matter? The more they prick, The more they pry, They discover little tricks, To make this little girl c

Here's to giving second chances to the ones who deserve them.  You two have so much chemistry, To not act on it would be a travesty, It's so clear to see, That the two of you are meant to be. I guess when there is a lot of history involved, Pros and cons have to be weighed carefully, And all previous issues have to be resolved Before you can give in to those feelings completely. Afraid to dive into this mess again, The old wounds and hurt still remain, So your feelings you keep to yourself, For fear that history might repeat itself. How will this play out? Will she get rid of all her doubt? Will he prove that he has changed and is indeed worthy? I guess we'll just have to wait and see. - JN 7.22pm, 19/10/2015 (Thursday) Home, Kelana Jaya

There is a theory that says if you have been friends for over 7 years, that person will be your friend for life. #thebestestfriends celebrate their 8-year milestone with this lengthy poem documenting their friendship.  2007. With a flick of my hair I went up to her & I said "Hi, I'm Sheril." And with her eyes cast downwards to avoid awkwardness she said "hiI'mJo." Getting to know her was difficult because she didn't say much. I secretly hoped she didn't take all of our staring to heart. She was really cute though and so seemingly carefree, Until one of our classmates asked her where to put the batteries, It was like a science experiment had gone wrong real fast, As she told our classmate to shove the batteries up her arse. It was about then that I knew this cili padi & I were going to be good friends, Little had I known how good back then. 2008. I spent every day in her house, sometimes we’d just end up sleeping, After school

When you're on the receiving end of a break, it's difficult. No, it's difficult for both sides. But when you're forced to sit & wait on a decision, your brain kind of goes into overdrive, and you go into shambles. There are so many things you want to say, but never will. So instead, you write them down, and call it poetry. Sometimes, it requires two parts. I woke up this morning & like a wave the pain hit me, except it didn't wash over me. It knocked me over then lingered in the cracks of my heart. I decided I would try everything to go back to sleep, because being awake & hurt was too much to handle. I dreamt I was looking for you. I tried everything to find you but I couldn't. I convinced myself I had to because you had my cell phone and my purse, and when people asked me why I had given them to you I didn't have an answer. "I just did. He asked, so I gave it to him." I didn't find you in the end, it turns out you left.

Dear Dreams,   Some days I remember you vividly, As vivid as dreams can be, I wake up and I can recall everything, I'm still trying to figure out if that is a good thing. Some days I cannot remember you, Not even if I tried to, I would remember dreaming, But can never recall what about the next morning. Some days I try not to remember you, And I almost make it through, But my brain decides to hit replay, And play the dreams that I would much rather keep locked away. Some days I spend daydreaming, Spacing out, as I like to call it, Where I am dreaming but it happens when I'm not sleeping, I tend to do that often, I must admit. Some days I wish you would end differently, So that I can somewhat change the story, But I know that's wishful thinking. So I go back to sleep and keep dreaming. - JN 5.45pm, 17/10/2015 (Tuesday) Home, Kelana Jaya.

Ever feel like your subconscious is against you? I do. EVERY NIGHT. Go away and let me sleep, It is late & I am tired, These thoughts I don’t want to keep, You’re going to get me fired. I honestly just want to get some rest, I don’t need reminders of things that have passed, Stop putting my sleep deprivation to the test, There are many things to which I have been tasked. I no longer give a shit about beep, I don’t need to see his stupid face anymore, Your stories aren’t even profound or deep, Just reminiscent of when it was me he thought he adored. I also don’t need to see visions of random friends, Doing things we never even planned, Put my misery to an end, I don’t know how much more I can stand. Please just let me rest in peace, Before I’m put six feet under, A good night’s sleep you always tease, Then it always begins like pre-storm thunder. I loathe you, please go away, So tempted to ask Swit Yen to induce a coma, I ne