Monday, July 10, 2017

Eyes Wide Closed

I used to have sparkling crystals reflected on my wide opened iris,
Awaiting the unknown to unveil itself.
It was there for quite some time,
Until the fuel to combust the fire dried up.

I came to realize that realizing drains the child out of you,
Once you’ve realized that it’s no longer about wanting things freely.
Before, you had the whole field to lie on, rolling up and down tirelessly,
Then you come to an age where your eyes see beyond the green grass and clear dews.
Layer by layer, it peals itself and escapes those coated eyes of yours,
You now see the thorns of the stem, the dirt in your nails, and the edge of the cliff.
And you’re no longer free to wish, you’re no longer free to desire.

Because now, you’re scared.

You’re scared to feel, you’re scared to try and you’re scared to want.
I was awoken five years ago to see beyond the opaque walls,
But I’m now awaken to see the cracks and dusts of the wall.

And I don’t know if it’s good or not anymore.

At the moment who is hopeless,
Fir

Sunday, December 25, 2016

Falling


of course it's scary

putting yourself out there again, anticipating the worst, it's either a new wound, or you're scrapping off old dried blood on that scar

being hopeful is all that you intend to be but you end up being hard dry and provoking just to build up that wall that you yourself are sick of

a single second could change from what was before to what is going to happen, and you wait. you wait for it to happen

not because you want it to happen, but just to say to yourself later, if it does happen, "the cut isn't that deep."

throwing yourself on a bed full of roses but darn it you forget all about the thorns.
of course its scary, but lol whats life without a lil risk ay?

of course its scary, but you just do it anyway

 of course it's fckn scary, but it's not like we aren't used to falling.

Sunday, December 4, 2016

Pacing time

Take it slowly, very slowly.
Take time when you breathe, in and out.
Slowly bring me into what's next.
If you run, feel it. If you leap, anticipate it.

Stop. Stop when you see cracks. Pause. Pause when you feel shaken.
And place the bricks back on the bridge, one by one.

Be slow. But please be sure.
For if you are sure, I'll be right here.
Slowly, but surely.

Sunday, October 23, 2016

Pintu Jiwa


kau takkan pernah tahu selagi kau tak rasa sendiri. kau takkan tahu betapa cuaknya bertitah atas pentas sampai kau cuba. kau takkan tahu debarnya jantung kau sampai kau lompat dari burung besi. kau takkan tahu peritnya hati bernanah sampai kau dilukakan. kau takkan tahu ringannya bahu, penatnya pipi megukir senyuman ikhlas, sampai kau jumpa si dia.

kau fikir kau tahu semua. dan kau rasa kau dah jemu dengan hidup ni, macam tak ada erti.

kau cuba dulu. kau buat dulu. gila kalau kau bosan dengan dunia ni. penuh kembara disebalik dahan dahan hijau, pulauan gah, bukit-bukit dewa dan langit yang tidak ada hentinya. pintunya kekal terbuka untuk kau terokai.

sama seperti aku. masih. terbuka.

Thursday, August 25, 2016

60 minutes of life

It's the feeling you get when you stand by the road at the famous intertwining traffic at Jalan Bukit Bintang, cars racing by, with those blinding lights giving that slight sore in your eyeballs. Like you cant keep up with the congestion.

Zum zum zum they go.

Fast, in a blink of an eye, a whole new batch of cars replacing the one before.

That could be the most precise depiction of how I feel as a 20 year old person.

Life is basically at a pace that is incredibly accelerated. Youth is taking the lead before anything and everything else. Fairly overwhelming but not detrimental, yet. That is exactly how I feel right now.

I could want to go for a hike at the Mossy Forest today and I would still want to go for a talk the next day. One day I'm coaxing my friends to start on a volunteering team to help kids on the streets and I'm writing for a column on some other days. Today I aspire to be the next lawyer who wants to change the terrible status quo of Shariah's position in Malaysia and tomorrow, I just want to do art and live in my own small apartment and go to work on a bicycle.

Do you feel the same way?


Highly ambitious, painfully inspired, and ecstatically motivated for life. 

But sometimes, I do feel like I can only do so much. Sometimes, it's like hearing empty cans colliding against each other in my head. I would have days feeling Twitter would be enough for the day.

But a thought I had while I was deep in Bukit Kutu, hiking. I was breathing heavily, sweat penetrating my t-shirt and such lovely fume I was producing, and I thought. An hour had just gone. An hour filled with nature appreciating moments, an hour filled with deep thoughts about life, an hour creating memories with Ezza and Kuaci, an hour of just feeling the environment. 

And I compared this 60 minutes with a random 60 minute if I were to be at home doing nothing. 20 minutes fingers going back and forth from Twitter to Instagram to Snapchat. 10 minutes of trying to fall to sleep again, 15 minutes in the loo sitting on the seat, really excreting nothing. Just playing around with my phone, again. 5 minutes of shower and 10 minutes on the bed again, playing with the phone again, still in my towel.

Dude. Are you getting the figures that I'm trying to elucidate here? Equal time frame but such different results of the whole usage of that 1 hour. Bapak bazir masa sial. Haha faham tak?

Okay, if you can't relate to hiking, imagine yourself at a talk, in one hour, you can listen to four different speakers sharing their worldviews with you. Damn son.

However, I still do it anyways. There would be good days, there would be lazy days. A non stop cycle. So yeah.

Sustaining the energy in you is a struggle, but start somewhere and as always, istiqamah I guess.

Yamg hari ni motivated to write,
Fir

Thursday, July 7, 2016

Khabar Baik

Bayu pagi mendingin pandanganku
Pancaran sinar melekap dikulit
Hangat.

Dan pada saat saat seperti ini yang menyiksakan

Aku tenung ke kalendar
Aku fikirkan betapa beza hari ini dan semalam
Pejam celik sudah tiba Syawal yang lain dari yang lepas

Aku lihat baju hitamku yang jauh di sudut gerobok
Aku fikirkan padanannya suatu tika dulu
Hati tetap terasa ngilu yang sama

Belum lagi dengan coretan bonda
Belum lagi dengan persoalaan handalan

Jujur tak ku tipu aku penat
Memikirkan timbunan kalau
Jujur tak ku sembunyi aku rindu
Imbasan memori yang masih bugar

Tapi takkan aku mengangkat tangan
Menapak kaki
Mengucap bibir

Biar aku tenggelam dalam duka
Asal aku tak menyesal

Sabar menanti khabar yang baik.


Yang benar,
Fir.

Monday, June 13, 2016

On Stage.


It’s like riding a rollercoaster. Your heart is pumping out of the excitement. You’re imagining how it would be like on the ride. Your legs are restless thinking why they are still standing upright.

You get into your seat, still excited. This is it.

And the gust you feel on your face. You’re laughing and you’re screaming at the top of your lungs. Things are happening so damn fast. And you want more and more and more and more.

You’re back at the starting point and you’re satisfied. God you feel satisfied. And you want to do it again.

That is exactly how it feels on stage.

Either dancing, acting or even debating (long gone passion).


When the song is played, people hear it as the background but I feel the music hugging my body, attaching itself like a leech, following each and every move I make. I stretch my arms out and the sound of energy slithers its way on my arms. The control I have over it. I refuse to relax. I refuse that my muscles don’t follow my pace. They flex and I feel it lifting the music on my limbs. Each moving bone, each erected hair on my arms and each opened pore on my damp skin.

 The lights. Let’s talk about the lights around me. They colour the stage people say but they lift me high above the ground. They express riots in me, they mirror the grey clouds and the reddest sunrise in me. They run to me, I run faster away from them, around the stage. The lights chase me pleading for a host to take them in and I do. I let the light show myself to whatever that is beyond the stage.

I feel it all. And not many people see it as a blessing. To sense the external with our receptors, an interaction between what is foreign and what is within us. Being able to feel is like breaking down a wall, bit by bit. You allow yourself to experience it, you allow yourself to feel it, and you allow yourself to live.

It feels vulnerable being up there, exposing yourself, destroying each layer of protection, in hopes, you reach those who desire.

This is how it is up there.

It all looks like an act with the prescribed scripts and the demanded lines, the anticipated expressions and the expected outcome.

But within those shades of fiction, lies such purity and vulnerability.

Love, Fir.