You can never have too many friends, they'd say.
But I am the kind who never goes out of the
comfort zone to challenge a new environment,
so I look at the handful of the people I am
immensely familiar with, and gaze. We were
innocent and unknowing of what is bound
to happen to us once we connect and never
break away. There were happy moments where
everything was about pointless laughter and
crinkled twinkling eyes, vibes so upbeat
and alive. There were depressing days where
we'd argue and quarrel to the point of ignoring
each other or even talking behind backs.
By the end of the day, we'd all reconcile
with unsaid words of "sorry" hanging in the
air on purpose for we know that the more
rocky our roads are, the more we are able
to comprehend each other and become much
closer than ever. When I look at them
again today, I can't help but to just smile
at them until they'd ask me whether I'm
spacing out again because I've been doing
that alone, swimming in my own thoughts, whilst
they've been busy whining over the piling
assignments laid out on our base-camp table. I want to
walk a long path with them where we can
be together for a lifetime. It really doesn't
matter if my number of companions are not
as plenty as others for I don't really do a whole load
of social media, but if they're still able to live
life with the exact same smiles they are
donning right now, then I'm satisfied. For the
first time in a while, I am thanking them for
being this beautiful thing called "friends", and
I truly wish them very blessed lives ahead.


Good morning, gorgeous.
It's only an hour until noon
basks in through the
hazy windows, though.
What are you doing in those
oversized white cotton jumper
and loose gray pajama
pants? Gosh, look at
those luscious coffee locks
sprawled all over the floor.
Are you tired, baby?
Why are you flashing me
that cherubic sunshine smile?
You must have slept
well last night, haven't you?
Hey, you are not supposed
to roll on the floor; the tiles
are absolutely cold and I don't
want your injured waist to be
flexed forcefully by the
flat surface. But you are being
extraordinarily radiant right
now, so maybe I'll halt the
playful scolding. Oh, why
are you hiding behind the
thin sheets of satin curtain,
now? Does the random act
amuse you? It sure does,
listening at how a chuckle
echoed around the
insipid walls. Come here,
sweetheart. I want to try and
see through the curtain like
what you did, too.
You want to cuddle the day off
on the floor with me?
Sure, my love.


He came in crashing
with bulging eyes and a
gaping mouth, and
she was frozen on
the spot, wondering
how the hell did such
beautiful creature
fall into her steps.
She thought she
never deserves him and the
escapades from his shadows
were too frequent
because he wanted
to catch up with
her; he needed her
like a fresh splash
of colour to fulfill
his bland canvas.
How could someone
be so unique and
so original?
The monomania was
too irresistible, so he'd
hop onto the clouds
and hitchhike a
Pegasus to grant
her dreams.
He never minded her
oblivious self,
so long as the
sunshine grin she
has will never fade.
So long as
she returns the favour
with her heart
in his hands.


Why are you so
wonderful, I wonder?
You'd be there,
flying out of your
four-wheel drive
suavely, that classic
black Givenchy backpack
forever attached
to your either
shoulders. I'd love
the way sunshine
would glow on the
crown of your fluffed
coffee hair to
accentuate some
sort of halo,
though you're no angel
and everyone
knows that. Time would
be guiding you
towards the path
of your dreams,
and I'd be left
gawking at how smooth
your destiny comes.
One day, I'd give
my entire everything
for you to
rub off some of your
cool to me so
that I'll be able
to grow as radiant as
you; or maybe even become
a part of you.


You are not flabby.
What caused
you to think of
yourself like that?
Be glad that
you don't, at
least, look malnourished,
and that you
look healthy with just
the right amount of
slim. I like the way
your fingers have
very strong holds or
the way your veins
would jut out when
you flex them. They're
not stubby and short,
shut up.
You need to
stop that shoulder-patting
habit of yours. Don't
let anyone shove
nonsense about your
seemingly-narrow shoulders
because they are
not; they compliment
your petit figure
just fine. You
may have a baby-like
face which endlessly gets
teased, but you
do know that your
mindset is the
maturest of them
all, don't you?
The amount of
determination you contain
would pour out of
you, as if you'd be
chained if you
don't let it show,
and I love that; it
makes your doe
eyes sparkle and
it energizes your
body like showers of
fairy dust.
No, you need to
stop being so conscious
about your arms
and legs. If
anything, they are
much longer and slimmer
than mine. And if
you're gonna rant
about your height, then
you need to keep mine
in mind for
you are very much a
head taller than
me. You're just right;
you got the perfect
proportions of
everything, and if
this is not convincing
enough for you,
then I'll say all of
this to you again
and again until you
realise how much of a
stunning being
you are and until you
can remember every
single words
by heart.



A whole array of
cupcakes were sold
for a voluntary project,
and each of them
were decorated prettily.
One of them, though,
was a little too petite
and a little too
Your cupcake was
a dark one with no
sugar or fruits slipped
in between to
emphasize your sultry
melting chocolate voice.
The aqua
sprinkles and the glittering
vanilla frosting
reflected your calm facade
which contrasted your
radiant determination and passion.
Since it was the smallest
and the purest
cupcake in the display,
it stood out ironically.
Tons of people would
admire its simplicity for
very long minutes; they'd
praise it, and some of
them were even dying to
buy it from me, but I
told them that they
couldn't have it, let alone
buy it. I told them
that it was mine,
and mine alone. The
beautiful little innocent cupcake
which stood out
on the display
is mine.


Red Light



Take out your
baskets, fill them
up with salami sandwiches
and chopped fruits,
don't forget to
bring an oversized
tatami mat or two
with matching
blankets and umbrellas,
keep your shades
and joy intact
because we're all gonna
go on a
ride and throw all of
the anvils on your
shoulders behind.
Let the kind
sunshine kiss away
those furrowing eyebrows
and the obvious
scowl on your faces,
with the erratic breeze
clearing out all
of the jabbing thoughts
in your mind. Put your
chin up and look!
Look at the vast
expanse of clean blue
in the sky and smile,
smile as if it makes
you soar back to life,
smile as if
nothing can stop you
from everything 
you dream of;
breathe the day 
in, and get wasted.


A food court is definitely not
an ideal place to look for
inspirations, not when your cousin
pesters you to please savour
the damn aging chicken sandwich.
Your fingers cling onto the
ink pen tight, stammering
and itching for some sort of
desperate contact with any
scribble-worthy surfaces.
You think of writing about the
fluffy furball of a kitten you
cooed at by the curb. You think
of writing about the 
gorgeous boy who smiles a
smile which is obviously meant
for your throbbing little heart.
You think of writing about your
friend's outrage towards her
brother who stole her
headphones after she accidentally
stepped on his.
Like a revelation which
descended upon your clouds,
the fact that you are
on a quest to find out
about yourself hits you hard;
so hard until you were
sent gasping for air in absolute
realisation. People turn to
give you funny looks, and your
cousin hisses at your antics.
But you grin instead because the
perspiring watermelon smoothie 
seduces you, and you know
what to write about now.