tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-863891443036953272024-03-13T03:39:16.655-07:002014Don't Come Too Close. I Might Still Love You.Andartu Timbuktuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03908542099972941923noreply@blogger.comBlogger155125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-86389144303695327.post-34669417037248148542014-06-28T16:22:00.000-07:002014-06-28T16:22:16.261-07:00And again.. one more time I have missed yet another boat. It's heartbreaking enough to find out through friends or by the mister himself that he's getting married, or "Hey by the way, I got married last night!" but getting to know through Facebook? It's just even more frustrating.<br />
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I don't usually write about this, but last night a highly potential candidate, whom I've been trying (though not very hard) to get a date with-changed his FB status to " married to so and so".<br />
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And at that very moment when I read the status, for the very first in a long time I could hear the rocks crumble around me as if an earthquake had just occurred.<br />
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Then the questions started swarming my head and ears- " When?How?I never knew he was dating!How did he get married to this girl?! Wait. Who is this girl? Ugh. Agh." then Whatsapp-ed a common friend " Babe! OMG. Did you know that so-and-so got married tonight???!!".<br />
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Though bitter-heartbrokened-frustrated-snapped-crumbled and a million other feelings running through my veins and bloodstream, I guess this is where the lessons on "Destiny", "Soulmate", "Mate" and "Fate" comes into the story. If it ain't meant to be, it ain't meant to be. If he ain't yours, he won't be yours no matter how hard you've tried.<br />
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Bak kata orang Melayu, " Kalau dah takde jodoh tu takde leā¦tapi kalau dah jodoh tu..tak ke mana..".<br />
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Meanwhile, let's move forward and keep on praying.Next! *snaps fingers*<br />
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Andartu Timbuktuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03908542099972941923noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-86389144303695327.post-51619305909323559672014-01-20T16:14:00.000-08:002014-01-20T16:14:46.573-08:00Monster New Year<br />
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Another New Year<br />
Another fear<br />
A monster will turn exactly a year<br />
Another fear, another tear<br />
Will the monster survive<br />
Or will the monster clear?Andartu Timbuktuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03908542099972941923noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-86389144303695327.post-4306098036861926082013-08-05T09:58:00.000-07:002013-08-05T09:58:03.081-07:00Similarities, Strength and Support SystemI have come to realize the importance of a support system for any individual.<br />
You may think you can stand up alone most of the time, but what you don't realize is the source of your strength.<br />
What do I mean by support system? The people that make you who you are today.Andartu Timbuktuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03908542099972941923noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-86389144303695327.post-81141811948838695562013-03-28T07:21:00.005-07:002013-03-28T07:29:31.695-07:00Continuous DetouringIt has been a peculiar month, a peculiar year, a peculiar time of my life. It started to play jokes on me.Every carefully laid out plan, changed. And when I thought that<br />
"Okay, it has changed once, perhaps for the better" and then it changed again. And it keeps on changing again.<br />
I have been detoured too many times in too such short a time- for some reason that I have no idea of. Questioning why has resulted in exhaustion-therefore I refuse to think.Please...<br />
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Andartu Timbuktuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03908542099972941923noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-86389144303695327.post-71708256771755737242013-03-23T13:48:00.002-07:002013-03-23T13:48:27.814-07:00Detour<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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Intended destinations can change within splits of seconds. Sometimes life has it's funny way of making us detour. Regardless, either way will be a first time.Andartu Timbuktuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03908542099972941923noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-86389144303695327.post-44200841394946791042013-01-20T17:11:00.000-08:002013-01-20T17:11:27.431-08:00Strawberrylogy<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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Some thrown out, some dunked, the best one picked. Each had the same chance, but only one was chosen. Does it make it better than the rest? Perhaps.Every strawberry had a chance.Every strawberry has a chance.That strawberry could be you. It's just a matter of time.<br />
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<br />Andartu Timbuktuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03908542099972941923noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-86389144303695327.post-62981149699959759152013-01-04T23:47:00.001-08:002013-01-04T23:53:23.483-08:002013 A NEW LIGHT<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />Andartu Timbuktuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03908542099972941923noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-86389144303695327.post-27119061674420924932013-01-04T12:08:00.001-08:002013-01-04T12:08:53.111-08:00ANDARTU TIMBUKTUAndartu Timbuktu-this was how she started. <br />
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Am not old, am still young. But in a few years time, if I don't get married, typical Malaysians will call me by that name, Andartu which simply means 'an old fuck', often used to call spinsters and hell yeah, it's NOT nice at ALL. Spinsters in M'sia are as good as being thrown over to Timbuktu, as the typical Malay population may suggest.<br />
Fuck you 'typical Malaysians', who cares if I go to Timbuktu, for all I know, I'm happy and carefree.<br />
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She remains single- and happy so far. But that doesn't stop her from changing her blog to something different.<br />
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Happy New Year, 2013!Andartu Timbuktuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03908542099972941923noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-86389144303695327.post-18113942953371069512012-11-09T17:49:00.000-08:002013-01-04T11:15:47.880-08:00An Unfortunate EventIt was Monday, the 5th of November 2012. No, I am not writing about Guy Fawkes night, even though the event took place on the same date. It was about a flash flood that happened in my hometown.<br />
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I was dressed in a newly bought light creamy pink lace top with a black long fitted black skirt to go with it, face made-up and hair neatly groomed.<br />
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My light small grey bag all packed and ready to return to the southern state of the country where I worked in the field that I do best, in the business of making people happy.<br />
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Mom who never drove outside of our hometown was reluctant to drive out to send me to the airport and wanted me to take the cab, but I insisted that we could have coffee before I took off.<br />
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We went with a willing and helpful neighbor, whom we were planning to have coffee with. Mom wanted to take a longer route, but I said take the shorter route.<br />
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And then we saw cars stopping on the right lane and jammed up the road. Why, take the left lane. "Water" mom said, " Not that high, just hit the accelerator and do not let go" said I.<br />
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Mom did as I said, and we were almost there..when the car wouldn't go anymore. "Try restart the engine" I said to mom. It just wouldn't. The water was gushing and getting deeper. I said " let's get out" as smoke was starting to come out from the engine. " No. let's stay in it's safer"said mom. I insisted that we went out for I said it would be dangerous if we were locked in the automatic car system.<br />
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All of us got out of the car, I managed to get my bag out from the trunk, and stood, the three of us on the concrete divider.<br />
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We watched the water pushing our floating car side to side, I was praying that it would not float away.<br />
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I know my mom was anxious and worried, just like how I was secretly feeling although I appeared to be calm.<br />
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A police car came by whilst I was trying to reach a tow-truck to rescue the car.<br />
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Mom insisted that the policemen send me to the airport to catch my flight. <br />
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I went with a heavy heart. She told me she was interviewed by a reporter on my way to the airport regarding the incident. I went on the flight and returned to the state where I work, but had difficulty sleeping all night. Called mom, and yes, we were still traumatized by the whole event. She had to wait for at least more than an hour before my brother came and the tow-truck guys came to her rescue.<br />
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Natural disasters are traumatizing, even flash-floods. Now imagine how you would feel if you're caught in a Tsunami.<br />
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<br />Andartu Timbuktuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03908542099972941923noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-86389144303695327.post-13480918591728162011-11-10T11:42:00.001-08:002011-11-10T12:10:51.910-08:00Your Time Will ComeRonald hates McDonald's and you know why. Although boys his age found this fast-food joint as being 'cool', he thought otherwise.<br />
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Rania loves McDonald's and you know why. Which girl would not want to be hanging out at the coolest joint where the coolest 5 year-old boys are at?<br />
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Ronald likes Rania and you know why. She's the girl that every 5-year old boy wants to be with.<br />
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Since Ronald likes Rania so much he rides his bike to McDonald's everyday and hid behind the bushes and observed Rania. Everyone knows Ronald hates McDonald's.<br />
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Richard is Ronald's grandfather and often he caught Ronald snooping on Rania, but he kept quiet, and you know why. Everyone knows when one is in love.<br />
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Ronald saw that Rania loves Fillet-O-Fish and you know why. Because it's delicious.<br />
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Ronald decided to put his likes and hates aside finally, he bought a Fillet-O-Fish after his 10th time observing Rania eating her favorite item.<br />
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Ronald waited for Rania to come. When Rania arrived, Ronald, nervous, gave Rania his sweetest smile and attempt to hand her the Fillet-O-Fish. Rania shook her head, pushed Ronald and ran away.<br />
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Disappointed and heartbroken, Ronald rode off on his bicycle bringing the Fillet-O-Fish with him.<br />
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When he got home, Ronald gently handed the Fillet-O-Fish to his grandfather.<br />
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Guessing what might have happened, Richard smiled and took the Fillet-O-Fish in his hands, gave a manly hug to a tearing Ronald and said " My child, one day, one fine day my child, your time will come, and you know why. Just like this Fillet-O-Fish I've been wanting and waiting for you to buy".<br />
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YOUR TIME WILL COME. <br />
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<br />Andartu Timbuktuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03908542099972941923noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-86389144303695327.post-84390196149862020622011-09-01T12:24:00.000-07:002011-09-01T12:24:02.323-07:00Women These Days<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Woman 1: So what is it about this guy that you like so much?<br />
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Woman 2: He's good with kids, he's great with housework, and he knows how to make me awesome coffee...<br />
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Andartu Timbuktuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03908542099972941923noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-86389144303695327.post-59180878716064573602011-07-11T07:21:00.000-07:002011-07-11T10:45:26.116-07:00Random Discoveries"I guess love is when though you are in a crowd, a party, or hanging around with a lot of hot people, you can't keep that one person's face out of your mind, and heart, and you wish that you were actually spending your time with that person instead. Disregarding the fact of whether or not that person would feel the same way about you or not- that's a different story altogether."<br /><br />You will only have the courage to send a text such as the above to a person if you are really sure of your feelings towards him/her. See what staying up late can do to you. Wee hours of the morning reveals new discoveries. And unexpected courage.Andartu Timbuktuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03908542099972941923noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-86389144303695327.post-41185204216560253132011-05-01T14:20:00.001-07:002011-05-01T14:51:38.550-07:00MY GIRL, YOUR GIRL?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZfOpz06v54Q/Tb3UXwmqv7I/AAAAAAAAAJY/KSjDtITsOF8/s1600/girls.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZfOpz06v54Q/Tb3UXwmqv7I/AAAAAAAAAJY/KSjDtITsOF8/s320/girls.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5601867016167931826" /></a><br /><br /><br />So I met this girl once upon a time in a dance class and thought she was really hot.<br />Not only she was beautiful, she had a pleasant character. I was surprised she wasn't a snob. That was what made her hotter. I saw her once a week, and loved the way she danced. It's amazing how one girl could give you such motivation by just... being there.<br />After graduating, I never saw her again. I lost my 'antique' phone, so I've lost her number. Facebook was non-existent then and I forgot to take her Friendster ID. I doubt she even had one. Or maybe she had. The point is we've lost touch.<br /><br />A few years later when I've stopped dancing, I met a guy. I was really attracted to this guy even though he wasn't the hottest guy I've ever had but I loved being around him. I laughed at his jokes, he teased mine. We could talk and tell each other everything. I was falling in love with him when we found out we liked the same girl. To make it worse, she was the love of his life. They actually dated. I felt a rush of jealousy going through my veins.<br /><br />Now she's married to a man who lies to her. Only the guy and I know this. So sad. This guy I was seeing actually said that he'd definitely marry her if she got divorced or widowed.<br /><br />There was a sudden silence. I didn't know whether I was jealous because he loved her so much or the fact that we both loved the same girl. <br /><br />I think it was the latter.Andartu Timbuktuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03908542099972941923noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-86389144303695327.post-60857127731188419232011-03-07T18:41:00.000-08:002011-03-07T18:58:08.971-08:00Slam the Slang!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ghOc7Fpy0kQ/TXWbGk8dDuI/AAAAAAAAAJI/HzqONqLw_XA/s1600/cross_eyed_by_Jafar87.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 166px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ghOc7Fpy0kQ/TXWbGk8dDuI/AAAAAAAAAJI/HzqONqLw_XA/s320/cross_eyed_by_Jafar87.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581537850494357218" /></a><br />Ye kew. U buat aper tew. N@k p3gi manew.<br /><br />U jgn baLeyk Mal@m m@lam taw...<br /><br />U dah mam...? <br /><br />Me : Bahasa apa ni. Nak mam? Mam apa ? Mampus?<br /><br />TRANSLATION : PUKE.Andartu Timbuktuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03908542099972941923noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-86389144303695327.post-8440713272142096322010-08-30T15:27:00.000-07:002010-08-31T01:50:22.449-07:00MERDEKA, MALAYSIA.This year I show my appreciation towards Malaysia's independence by:<br /><br />1. Switching on my red-bulbed shell-shaped lamp.<br />2. Switching on the blue-bulbed chandelier.<br />3. Switching on my yellow bulbed down lights.<br />4. Lying down and looking at all the colored lights that represent the colors that make-up the Malaysian flag and finally staring at the white walls wondering when can we actually be truly independent and forward in our systems, culture, and thinking.Andartu Timbuktuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03908542099972941923noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-86389144303695327.post-26034644780276180902010-08-30T07:30:00.000-07:002010-08-30T07:34:23.906-07:00AHMAD-AGAIN.As I was spring-cleaning after a long period of procrastination, I found AHMAD again!<br />I've lost AHMAD not long after I found AHMAD AGAIN after it was lost for the first time.Or was it the second.<br />I gave up hope. I never thought I'd see AHMAD again. <br />I found AHMAD amongst other things which I have lost for quite some time.<br />I hope I shall never lose AHMAD again.Andartu Timbuktuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03908542099972941923noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-86389144303695327.post-34751645736409988202010-08-29T21:30:00.000-07:002010-08-30T06:00:51.556-07:00After PrayersI entered the room and found out that a paintball tournament was just about to begin. So without any prior notice, I became a part of your team. I had no time to be nervous as you immediately discussed strategy. My heart was fluttering but I appeared calm. We must win the game. I wanted to make you proud. There were so many people in the other team.<br />I couldn't remember whether we won or lost for the next thing I knew I was at a party wearing a deep purple dress. <br /><br />There was a contest for those who were in purple but I did not participate. I remembered Patrick did. He was so confident. I did contemplate in trying for it when I saw a hot lady whom I thought looked rather familiar. I said hi to her and introduced myself and asked her whether she has done modeling before and whether she wanted to become a model. That was when a few other girls approached us and congratulated her and said they were proud to meet her in person. That's when I knew that she was this year's Miss Universe Malaysia 2010. No wonder she looked familiar. I felt stupid for a moment and slightly embarrassed but I covered it up well.<br />Plus, my mind was too occupied with something else. My paintball team leader.<br />Of course I knew him way before that paintball tournament.I was looking around the room wondering where he could be. Only to see my friend who's a Miss Universe Malaysia 2010 finalist approaching with a big beautiful smile and waving at me. She looked gorgeous in her shining gold top and jeans. Simple, yet elegant. She should have been Miss Universe Malaysia instead of snobby lady.<br /><br />I said hi to her, kissed her cheeks and let her float with all the other pageants and friends, and then I left the room, seeing that you were nowhere to be found.<br />As I walked out of the room, I saw you getting into your silver-grey luxurious car. Not the latest model though, but still considered luxurious.<br />You drove off, and I followed.<br />I knew you saw me, because I saw you staring at me when you thought I wasn't looking as you drove past.<br /><br />I followed you and we stopped at a school. I walked past the classrooms, and I saw you smiling and talking to a fair-skinned Chinese looking girl. You were both walking out of the school and you saw me. You were looking at me 'that same way' again.<br />As if your eyes are saying that you long to be with me, but you can't.<br /><br />You left the school with her and drove off. I followed. Until you stopped your car at one of the old shop-houses. I peered through the window and I saw you sitting at what looked like an old 'kopitiam' table and stool. She asked you to wait for a while. I was waiting anxiously too. Then she came back, carrying what looked like a baby boy. I was shocked, surprised, and speechless. A million thoughts were racing in my mind. Is that your child? Did you have the child with her? Who is this girl to you? The baby must have been about 6 months old. You smiled when you saw him. You immediately carried the baby and sat him on the table. <br />He was fair and chubby, cute and adorable. Just like you. And her. Then you held his chubby hands.I felt slightly hurt for I'm wondering what secrets you have been keeping from everyone. Is he illegitimate? Your love- child? <br /><br />And as if you could sense my presence, you turned your head behind. It was too late for me to run. You looked shocked, and you stared at me the same way you usually do. That longing look in your eyes, wanting to be with me. Sometimes it appears as if you are apologizing that you can't be with me for some reason.<br /><br />And as usual, I woke up, feeling confused and wondering what is the meaning of all this.Andartu Timbuktuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03908542099972941923noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-86389144303695327.post-40191624583430393022010-08-05T09:23:00.000-07:002010-08-05T09:26:02.222-07:00DILEMMASometimes it's easier to have no choices to choose from because when you do, you're stuck at having to make a decision. And the hardest part is making a wise one. Then, you're in a dilemma.Andartu Timbuktuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03908542099972941923noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-86389144303695327.post-22009822627828255372010-05-15T10:50:00.000-07:002010-05-15T10:53:27.884-07:00Aku hidup kembaliSemalam Ahmad hidup. Hari ini aku hidup. Aku hidup kembali. Tapi bukan kerana Ahmad.<br />Ahmad hanya pemangkin.Catalyst.Mungkin.<br />Mungkin Ahmad merupakan foreshadow of what made me alive today.<br />Fuyo aku cakap English siot.<br />Aku happy.Andartu Timbuktuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03908542099972941923noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-86389144303695327.post-73337111794595642602010-05-13T09:21:00.000-07:002010-05-13T09:30:35.397-07:00AHMADI thought Ahmad died in March. <br />But suddenly I found Ahmad is still alive.In May.<br />It's confusing. <br />Perhaps Ahmad did not die. Perhaps Ahmad only slept.<br />If there were a book of answers, I would have dived for it .<br />I am still looking for the reason.<br />Ahmad.Andartu Timbuktuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03908542099972941923noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-86389144303695327.post-20223129022187513882010-03-31T10:49:00.001-07:002010-03-31T10:49:55.980-07:00GoodnightWelterusten.Andartu Timbuktuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03908542099972941923noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-86389144303695327.post-52113463692189251612010-03-31T10:34:00.000-07:002010-03-31T10:42:59.812-07:00BlindYou have eyes, but you can't see.<br />Not because you're unable to, but you refuse.<br />You can, but you don't.<br />You can, but you won't.<br />And I can definitely not help thee.<br />For I tried to make you see<br />But you won't even let me<br />So my eyes cried tears of anger<br />My eyes cried tears of pain<br />Of disappointments<br />For I was sorry not for me<br />But for you the one who refuses to see<br />You, the one who chose to be blind<br />Yes, I feel sorry for thee.<br />Stay blind if you want<br />But please don't blame me,<br />For I did warn you I wanted you to see<br />But you want to stay blind<br />So don't put the blamin' on me.Andartu Timbuktuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03908542099972941923noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-86389144303695327.post-71566473532343603732010-03-02T09:34:00.000-08:002010-03-02T09:38:01.369-08:00The Day Ahmad DiedToday, Ahmad died for real.Andartu Timbuktuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03908542099972941923noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-86389144303695327.post-45330975314174060202010-02-23T09:54:00.000-08:002010-02-28T06:10:48.738-08:00Cantik-cantikMalam itu habisnya lewat. Setelah selesai aku kembali memakai pakaian asalku. Baju tanah putih bermotifkan bunga abstrak berwarna hitam. Aku mengikat rambutku ketepi dengan gaya bersahaja. Kulihat wajahku didalam cermin dan senyum.Tanpa mencoletkan sebarang alat solek, ku keluar dari pintu dengan penuh konfiden. Aku menyandang beg hitam kulit berjenama Aigner dengan beg kertas free yang bakal ku buang kerana melekit dek madu yang tertumpah dalam perjalanan tadi. Madu manis sedap kubeli sebagai ubat keronkongku yang menderita kerana infeksi virus batuk, dijangkiti dari abahku yang genius.<br />Ku rasa something dalam hatiku sejak dari tadi. Seolah-olah ada yang sedang menungguku. Mungkin seseorang yang ada sedikit menyukai aku, atau seseorang yang aku idam-idamkan sejak aku tahu kewujudan dia di muka bumi ini? Lalu seperti biasa mindaku khayal dalam anganan yang mengalahkan si Mat Jenin. Sambil aku melangkah tapak demi tapak menuju ke keretaku yang tercinta, hatiku berdebar- debar. Syok sendiri seketika sebab memakai pakaian cantik-cantik. Aku menghidupkan enjin keretaku dan memandu ke arah jalan pulang. Setiap perjalanan pulang ke rumah, akanku lalu satu tempat ini.Wajib lalu sebab memang ke arah jalan pulang ke rumah.Ayat tadi macam redundant tapi memang itu maksud aku. Stress point. Aku terus memandu dan aku hampir tiba di tempat itu. Hatiku berdebar-debar hanya Tuhan saja yang tahu. Sreeeeeeet aku break perlahan-lahan. Dia ada. Hatiku berdebar-debar. Aku berfikir dengan pantas dan menekan pedal minyak dan terus pulang, dalam keadaan berpakaian cantik-cantik. Bukan takut. Tapi malas.Balik rumah lagi best.Andartu Timbuktuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03908542099972941923noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-86389144303695327.post-71885101760976783912010-02-19T10:56:00.000-08:002010-02-19T10:58:41.353-08:00BookI am now a book.<br /><br />Because I am readable.<br /><br />Says someone who is not me.<br /><br />WOW.<br /><br />I'm impressed.Andartu Timbuktuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03908542099972941923noreply@blogger.com1