Thursday, September 24, 2026

24 September — Thursday

There is still a battle I need to fight — in my heart. I fought, and I survived. I am no longer in a quandary. I do not belong to the past. I don't want to go back to the past. The past belongs to the past. The headache came back again. This time, it is quite serious. Maybe because I lack sleep and am dog-tired.

Oh yeah, I didn't have an emotional explosion, and that is the biggest win.

Come back stronger!

Wednesday, September 23, 2026

"Abang repair barang elektrik. Ada setengah boleh guna"
"Setenang itu?"
"Ha. Barang 2 ke 3 tahun lepas budak kutip. Tak sempat repair sebab balik"
"Sepantas itukah masa berlari? Mmm…apasal laju sangat?"
"Lambat lagi Ara nak tua"
"Annnnn"
"Amboi. Suka"
_

"Tak takut ke?"
"Takut jugak"
"Sejak bila? Asenya abang acam dah putus urat takut"
"Memang ada je nak mengata abang"
"Rindu suami. Hari tu dia senyap aje ntah kenapa. Ada masalah tak nak share"


Panggilan telefon
23-09-2026

Tuesday, September 22, 2026

"Why are you so quiet?"
"Nak dengar suara Ara"
"Something happened? Are you hurt?"
"I’m good"
_

"Abang dah makan?"
"Tak ada selera"
"Makan tau. Kita tak suka laki kurus"
"Suka macam mana?"
"Tinggi, tegap, katang! Macam abang!"
"Amboi"
_

"Abang kena gerak. Nanti abang call"
"Abang"
"Hmm?"
"Rindu kita tak?"
"Segenap maya"
"Sibaik banyak. Kalau sikit kita suruh tidur luar"
"Hahahaha"
"Ketawa pun. Rindu tau"
"Iye"


Panggilan telefon
22-09-2026
18 September 2026 — Home

4 a.m. 
Sleep but half-awake — writing an erotic letter to her. I see her in my dream — close enough to write about every inch of her. Feel the presence of her. The letter didn't finish. I woke up. I had a headache. 

9.00 a.m.
Log in to my Hotmail. I read random emails of hers. It was clear — something I missed before, or maybe my delusional, blind self. I deleted two emails. Previously, I had deleted another email.

9.05 a.m.
My habit — I write down any quotes or poems that remind me of her. Save them safely for her letter to craft in. Now, I have burned a quarter of the paper. They are now useless, soon becoming trash.