Politically speaking,

Your mind is pretty much like the governments ; 

it's a solid black box.

Nobody can see through it.

Not even me.

Betul kan?

Love is only meant for handsome bitches and pretty guys.

And feelings? Well, feelings are for rich people, who can afford it.

Are we human, or are we dancer?

I am trying to choreograph my words,
so that they synchronised perfectly with what the heart is feeling.

Yes ;
in the exact same pace,
exact same step,
exact same rythm,
exact same beat,
even the exact same grace.

But -- I
I am no dancer.

I can't moonwalk my words out.
Nor can I twist & turn my feelings away.

I wrote down cha-cha,
when my heart is break-dancing.
I said contemporary,
when its really latin stirring up inside.

I just can't.
I am not a dancer,
remember?

Don't think so.

Eh mari sini.
Get in my shoes for a bit.
Baru kau tahu rasa.
Baru kau tahu rasa.

I am not playing God.

Life's a whore, but not this time.

Its your turn to suck it all up.

Amacam? Pedih?

Slutty Universe.

Refusing it all.

Wasting daylights.

Contemplating suicide.

Disconnecting, by choice.

Waving middle finger to the Universe.

Bye.

...