Anonymous ko-uta (geisha song)

Longing,
Longing
To be together
I fret my days away.
Ever so once
In a while
We steal a night
together,
And part
Longing,
Longing.

Parting is
Merely longing,
Never farewell -
The temple bell
Sounding at dawn.



PS: Expresses what I'm feeling at the moment.

My Life Is Shit

My life is shit.

An Afterthought of Adonis

After watching "Manhunt" on TV. I'm very, VERY inspired to go out and grab myself a hot hunk. Seriously. Looking at their gorgeous bodies and faces...*orgasmic moan*...I've not been that turned on since...since...fuck it's so long ago since I last had some I can't remember.

Whatever. I'm just very, VERY inspired to go out and grab myself a hot hunk. I mean, I've dated lotsa cute (and at best, really cute) guys before but that's just it. Cute. Never one that is hot, hunky, and sexy, who can turn me on before he even touches me. And I believe with absolute conviction I have what it takes to attract a hot hunk (because you see ah, the universal rule is that the really beautiful always end up with ugly twats...unless you're in Hollywood but even then).

Then again, with karma shagging my ass and a dick as my head, I don't think it's gonna happen.

Damn You Murphy! Damn You!!!

Murphy's Law states that when life's a big turd, too fucking bad, because more people/cows/random organisms that crap a lot are just gonna further shit on it.

You see, as if having a bitching testicle on my neck isn't bad enough, some mosquitoes have to take a piece of me there too. I have TWO bites on my swollen lymph node. It itches worse than the fanny of a whore who hadn't gotten laid in 10 years and it makes me look like I've miniature siamese twin nipples growing on a testicle on my neck. I know, it doesn't seem like much of a problem, does it? What's up with a couple of mozzy bites, right? I mean, this is Malaysia! EVERYBODY gets bitten by mozzies ALL the time, right?

Not if it's on an infected lymph node. Here, let me put it in a simple equation to allow you to better understand the severity of the situation:

major itch = constant scratching = regular application of pressure on lymph node = sakit gila babi macam pantat dara kena cucuk kali pertama.

And why two bites??? It's almost like a couple of mosquitoes decided to park there at the same time and have a little picnic lunch. Why there? Did the lump make that area of skin seemed more attractive??? Maybe it looked like a nice, hilly area to relax and have a drink.

Like wow! How romantic! Picnic on a hill!

*flashes muka tulan*

And anybody who tries to make a mozzy love-bite joke at me will get a kick in the groin. Yes girls, it can hurt for you too. So shut the hell up.

Plus, the antibiotics I'm taking makes everything I eat taste like watery porridge, which, come to think of it, shouldn't really mean shit because that's what I've been eating for the past few days anyways (until today). While everyone was tucking in to Mum's Father's Day dishes like steamed big-ass prawns, baked salted good-shit chicken, and orgasmic-inducing stewed pork, I had to tuck in to watery porridge and pickled vegetables. WATERY PORRIDGE AND PICKLED VEGETABLES!

*flashes muka aku-tak-percaya-oh-tidak!!!*

Also, the antibiotics leave a terrible aftertaste at the back of my throat which lasts for hours after taking a pop.

Kinda like cum.

*momentary silence as Yoke lapses into deep thought*

I've a testicle hanging under my head and a perpetual taste of cum on my throat...

...by the sweet nipples of Venus!!! *GASP*


I'm literally a dickhead!!!


Fuck this shit. Karma is taking a joy-ride up my ass.

A Box Full of Kryptonite and Iron

For the past week I've been in absolute pain. And I mean AB-SO-LUTE pain. Not only am I unemployed and penniless (the last I checked, my bank account balance was RM10), but my boyfriend had to tell me that he couldn't make it back to KL (so we broke up), and the only other person I had given my heart to could not love me in return. It was just too much heartache in one week. My self-esteem is at rock bottom while my self-doubt is sky high.

And then The Powers That Be decided that mental and emotional torture was not enough. Physical pain must be inflicted as well. I developed a massive fever and a mysterious painful lump on my neck a couple of days ago, and I was supposed to go home to Ipoh on the 10.00pm bus with my brother on that same night. I managed to board the bus but it was pure shit because no matter what I did or where I shifted my body, the air-con kept blowing at my face. I had to put on three shirts and huddle up like a hobo in a cardboard box before it became somewhat bearable. Somewhat.

The next evening I went to the doctor's and when I got home I told my mum I've got fever and a lymph node infection at my neck. Mum wanted to take a closer look so I tilted my head upwards to show her. The first thing she did was jab her finger at it. HARD. And asked, "Pain ah?"

I almost pissed in my pants.

But since I'm already 24 years old, pissing in my pants would be a serious embarassment, so I just gave a loud yell and smacked Mum's hand away.

Dad saw the whole thing and started reprimanding Mum, who tried to defend herself by saying she was just anxious to see if I was ok. But Dad wouldn't stop scolding and Mum started to pout and there was this commotion going on and my body temperature was soaring at 45 degrees and I was having a throbbing headache and my muscle joints were on fire and my eyeballs felt like they were going to explode any moment and I've a swollen lymph node that looks like an ingrown testicle on my neck and my brother was blasting his mp3s and the cat ran inside the house and started mewing and there was all this noise going on...

"Enoughlah!!!" I screamed, almost popping said infected lymph node while at it. I turned to my father, "Dad, it's Father's Day. Why don't you go outside and watch some TV?"

I've no idea how watching TV is related to Father's Day but it seemed like the proper thing to say then. But hey, watching TV can be a ceremonious occasion. Really.

Dad went out to stare at the idiot box and Mum was still pouting. "I just wanted to see if you're ok."

"I know, Ma" I said and patted her on the hand.

Sigh. It's good to have family. Especially when some friends and lovers have been so disappointing. Sometimes, I'm tempted to harden my heart to people and become a little more cruel but something tells me it's not right. There're enough cynical and loveless individuals in this world as it is, one more wouldn't help, would it? At the moment, I'm still far from peachy but I can handle it. I have to. Then again, I'm Yoke. Nothing can keep me down for long. That's what Jude always tells me.

Oh well I'm just rambling. Fever does this to me. Better take my meds and hit the sack.

Absolut Gorgeous a.k.a. Love Song from the Rocker Boy to the Space Girl

This song has no definite melody. Just play it to the music in your head. Make sure it’s a punchy rock song though. Here goes…


*Light, tapping drum intro*

He doesn’t know what to do,
Tried not to think of you,
Never thought it’d come to this:
That he’ll one day kill for your kiss.

*Guitars come in here*

Now his tummy’s fluttering,
Speech is stut-stut-stuttering,
Words are uncontrollable,
He’s making senseless syllables.

Been waiting for all these years,
Never knew he held those tears,
Rocker Boy is rocking up,
Space Girl better listen up!


*Kick-ass guitars come in here*

CHORUS:

Hey Gorgeous!
This is a little out of the blue
But I’m afraid I’ve fallen for you.
It feels a little wrong
So I’ve to say it in a song,
Like a misplaced star,
Or a double parked car.
Oh, just say you love me too!
Oh, just say you love me too!

Hey Gorgeous!
I know this isn’t anything new
But I’m afraid I’ve fallen for you.
Drive myself up the wall
Just hoping for your phone call,
Fuck I’m such a fool!
Still I try to play it cool,
Oh, just say you love me too!
Oh, just say you love me too!

Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck
I’ve fallen so hard for you!


*Regular guitars come back in*

The bacon just don’t smell good
When you haven’t understood,
He doesn’t mean to be rude,
He just wants to be your special dude.

You’ve got him so spellbound,
He’s silly when you come around,
Playing your songs and MP3s,
All just so you’ll be at ease.

He’ll give you all his heart,
Put you in his works of art,
Rocker Boy is rocking up,
Space Girl better listen up!


*Kick-ass guitars again*

Repeat CHORUS


*Super keng-chau power combo kick-ass guitars come in here*

BRIDGE:

He just can’t,
Can’t get you outta his head,
He’ll love you till he’s dead,
He knows what you said,
But the feelings won’t fade.

Baby, baby,
You know he loves you
And he knows you want him to,
C’mon, c’mon,
You’d be perfect together,
Can’t hold it forever.

La-la-la-la-la-la-la…

La-la-la-la-la-la-la…


*Guitars stop, only drumbeats here*

He’ll give you all his heart,
Put you in his works of art,
Rocker Boy is rocking up,
Space Girl better listen up!


*Kick-ass guitars come in. Again*

Repeat CHORUS (until you pass out or until you find something else better to do.)

The Hybrid Nephilim

Wretched, wretched creature,
Learn your place in this world!
You are not the oyster's prize
But a cast-off, misshapen pearl.

Conceived in sinful darkness
When God turned a blind eye,
Borne of the weak and the winged,
You were never meant to fly.

You are neither earthly,
Nor in any way divine,
Hence it is only proper
You should dwell amongst swine.

So how dare your pride!
So how dare you try!
Whatever made you think
You could love the Sacred Butterfly?

Impertinent little fool!
You tried so hard to leech
The love of one whose heart
Is high beyond your reach.

I hope now you understand,
You anomaly without a name,
The garden was a secret
Because it was a shame.

Your cheeks shall be smitten,
Your heart be made to bleed,
None shall dry your tears,
None shall heed your need.

Return now to the shadows,
Show not yourself to any,
Pity not your misery
For it was never meant to be.

Ballad Of A Spy

Desperate diseases require desperate remedies - Guy Fawkes (Gunpowder Plot).


Agent Kauffman had made up his mind. The decision was a difficult one but upon deliberate consideration it seemed the right thing to do. What was once for the glory and pride of Germany had turned into a senseless massacre so bloody and inhumane, even Satan would recoil at the thought of it. The madness has to end and the power to do so lies solely in his hands.

Three weeks ago, he had been summoned into General Strauss’ office. Evidence had suggested that a prominent German scientist was being smuggled into America and with him, the devastating knowledge to build a bomb so significant of might it could wipe out entire nations and envelop their future generations with an irremovable blanket of pestilence. However, in the course of the journey, the man had been assassinated. The deed was believed to have been carried out by an agent from the Soviet ranks. The Allies are now working towards procuring documents of the scientist’s work, which he had hidden before his departure. The scientist himself had come up with the plan to dispatch them separately so that should misfortune befall either one of them at one time, there is hope yet left in the other. If the enemy learns to materialize the bomb from its conception, then all would be lost for Germany. It was Agent Kauffman’s mission to retrieve the documents before they do.

The mission was a great success and the precious documents are now in his possession, but he had no intention of letting it fall into the hands of the Führer. The plan was simple; secure the documents, board the train before suspicions arose, and get himself to England. There, Kathrin would be waiting for him. He had managed to get her across safely and without hassle. Oh Kathrin, she had been his only source of light in the darkness of war and were it not for her softness and beauty, he could possibly have caved in. The nightmares were becoming too frequent, too real. It was Kathrin who was always there to hold him and soothe him. Even a hardened spy needs a woman to take care of him, Agent Kauffman smiled at the thought.

A sudden jolt of the carriage brought him back to his surroundings as the train came to a screeching halt. There were no stops scheduled until the next 2 hours. What was going on? He heard the doors of the train open and an unintelligible conversation ensued between the conductor and another man. Orders were shouted out and footsteps could be heard filling the interior of the train. He knew by the sharp patter of their military shoes that these men were not ordinary citizens. How many were there? Agent Kauffman pressed his ears against the floor of his cabin and listened hard. No less than 20 men, he concluded.

“Check all cabins and leave no bed, bunk, nor bag unturned. I want every man, woman, and child thoroughly scrutinized! If Herr Kauffman gets away you will find yourself crawling amongst the Jews in Auschwitz!” a strong, powerful voice barked in German. Agent Kauffman froze. Word of his treachery must have reached the ears of General Strauss! Doors were opening and closing, there was a commotion as the passengers were searched and their belongings ransacked. The sounds of footsteps were approaching fast and the tap-tapping of one was heading straight for his cabin! Tap-tap, tap-tap…tap-tap, tap-tap…

Within seconds he would be knocking at his cabin door. Agent Kauffman held his breath. He had prepared to fool them at the border but not at the train. He looked out the window. The train had stopped somewhere in the German countryside. He could make a break for it. The foliage would provide enough shadows for hiding…but this was unfamiliar territory. Even if he could run, he was not sure how long he could hide.

Tap-tap…tap-tap…tap-tap…

No, it would be better if he had them believe he was not aboard this train. That way, they would concentrate on other rails once this ordeal is over. If he missed this one, the difficulty of getting onto another would be doubled. He just needed to gather his wits about him and get over this obstacle. The footsteps were getting louder. Think, Sebastian, think! He commanded himself.

Tap-tap…tap-tap…tap…the footsteps stopped outside of Agent Kauffman’s cabin. The doors flung open…

The soldier turned the bed and blankets around. He cut open the mattress and pillows with his bayonet, seeking something that was not to be found. He opened the window and poked his head out into the black of the night, his eyes roving, searching, with piercing intensity. Satisfied, he left the cabin and continued to the next one.

From the roof of the train, Agent Kauffman could see the soldier poking his head out from the window. Quickly he ducked under to avoid detection. When the soldier had passed by, he allowed himself to breathe. He just might make it after all. The voices of the men were beginning to congregate around the front of the train, they must be leaving! Agent Kauffman’s heart gave a leap. But wait, what is that shuffling noise?

Right ahead of him! About 30 paces away, a silhouette of a man was clambering onto the top of the train. One of them had decided to inspect the roof! Agent Kauffman peered into the window of his cabin, there were soldiers milling about the place still. It was impossible to slip back inside unnoticed. The silhouette was beginning to take a more detailed appearance of a man. He licked his dry lips subconsciously, his mind racing. Then it hit him. He had heard no orders given out to search the roof. This soldier must be here by his own volition! The rest of the party could be unaware of his whereabouts. They could be. Agent Kauffman was not certain but this was a gamble he would have to take. Huddling closer and closer into the shadows, he waited. His timing must be perfect. There could be no mistakes. There must be no mistakes.

By now, he could already make out the face of his hunter, a young man with an angular face and serious, thin lips set in a straight line. The atmosphere was so static he could hear his own heart beat against his chest. With his right hand clutching the documents protectively, he reached for the Shepherd’s Arm with his left. Just as the soldier hopped over to the next carriage, Agent Kauffman’s fingers tightened and he squeezed the trigger. A gleaming bullet was propelled into the air, its screams suppressed by a silencer. It was a clean shot in the head. The soldier fell backwards and landed with a slight thud, his body nestled in the gap between the two carriages. Excellent! Had the soldier fallen out of the train upon his death he would be in clear view of his comrades, alerting them of Agent Kauffman’s presence.

The captain barked out his last orders as the train groaned audibly and rumbled slowly into life. Agent Kauffman climbed stealthily back into his cabin, hair matted and forehead covered with a thin sheen of cold perspiration. Peering outside, he watched as the search party grew smaller and smaller until they were no more. He smiled to himself. By the time they realized one of their comrades was missing, it would be too late. He would be well on his way to safety.


* * * * * * * * * *

It was about a week later when he arrived at London. Except for the young couple who kept holding noisy arguments in the cabin next to his, the rest of the journey had been pleasant. Just as he had expected, the Nazis had left the train in peace once they had quelled their suspicions. He breathed in the chill of the English winter, the dreariness of the season mattered little to him now. He lit a cigarette and smoked leisurely. His attention was focused on scanning for that one face he had been dying to catch. He was just observing the multitude of faces that had freshly poured in at the front gate when a sound caught his ears. It was a pitter-patter of running feet and from the left corner, darting towards him with arms outstretched in anticipation of embrace, was Kathrin, the apple of his eye, the love of his life.

Agent Kauffman gave a cry of joy. He rushed over to her with the fervour of a man in blind love. He lifted her up and swirled her around before planting his lips on hers. They kissed long and tender. She smiled, “Schatzi! I thought I was never going to see you again!”

“Silly darling, you need to have a little more confidence in me,” Agent Kauffman mused.

Kathrin sighed happily and kissed him again, “Let’s go home. I’ve prepared your favourite for dinner, beef steak and wine!”

Agent Kauffman laughed. He had never felt so elated.


* * * * * * * * * *


The after events of dinner had consisted of endless love-making and sweet nothings. When Kathrin had fallen asleep, he sat up in bed and thought about his next course of action. Nobody knew about his plan except for himself. He would have to settle everything by tomorrow, there is not a moment left to delay. The sooner the war is done, the better it is. Best of all, he did not have to lie to Kathrin anymore. The poor girl, she thinks he works as a bank clerk! He hated having to tell her untruths but women are weak. How could she possibly understand? But that is no longer relevant. Tomorrow, he would contact British Intelligence and it would all be over. They can start anew. Tomorrow. As thoughts of freedom mingled with the after-sensation of love, he fell into a deep sleep.

When he awoke, Agent Kauffman was surprised to find himself skillfully tied to a chair, clad in nothing but his shorts. Kathrin appeared from the washroom with a clean rag in her hand. “Kathrin! What are you doing? Is this some kind of joke?” he asked, though instinct told him something was very, very wrong. His head was heavy and groggy. The wine! It was drugged! No wonder she had insisted on having whiskey.

“My name’s not Kathrin. It’s Providence, Agent Providence Lynch of British Intelligence,” she said as she gagged his mouth with the rag. She spoke to him in English this time, with a distinctive British accent.

“I’m sorry Sebastian, or should I call you Agent Kauffman? Germany must not be allowed victory in this war. Too much injustice had been committed towards the human race. Nowhere in the history of Mankind had such cruelty and heartlessness been recorded,” she shook her head, her striking face hooded in anger and sadness. “The madness has to end and the power to do so lies solely in my hands,” she stopped and beheld his face. Whatever tenderness he had seen in those beautiful brown eyes the night before was gone. She just seemed to be…sizing him up.

Agent Kauffman shook his head violently. “Mmmfff mmfff,” he tried to tell Kathrin, no…Providence, that he had not planned to surrender the documents to the Nazis. That was the reason he was in London. He wanted the war and all the senseless murders to stop just as desperately as she does. But most of all, he loved her. He really loved her! “Mmmfff mmfff mmmmff!!!”

Agent Lynch ignored his impeded attempts to articulate himself. “But just for the record, your work was immaculate, Agent Kauffman. Truth be told, you were the perfect spy,” she said. “But you made one fatal mistake.”

With a deadly smirk on her face, she leaned forward, closed her eyes, and whispered in his ear, “You fell in love with me.”

The still of the morning air was softly broken by the muffled sound of a bullet cutting through a skull. Then, all was quiet again as the lights around Agent Kauffman began to dim.



This story was inspired by a dream I recently had. The plot remained unchanged (my dreams have plots, ok?) but I've altered the characters a bit.

The Perfect Drug

You know what?

I love you.

I'm not going to try to say it in some fancy-scmancy poem or mask it behind a clever story. Love is not fancy and it certainly doesn't make a person very clever. In fact, Love has made me a fool for you.

I can't stand the way you can be so passionate with me for one night and so utterly cold the next. It disturbs me how we've to pretend nothing ever happened and act like everything's normal. You're well aware of my feelings for you but still you deny me. I'm beginning to wonder whether you speak the truth when you tell me you feel the same.

All I ever want from you is to allow me the pleasure of waking up next to your lovely face, to hold your hand, to kiss your lips as and when I please, to make you coffee in the mornings, to give you backrubs at night, and to listen to you speak about everything and nothing.

Whatever. I don't know what I'm talking about anymore. I'm feeling a little silly at the moment. I've been sick for the whole of yesterday, shivering with fever and senseless with nausea. My whole body is in pain and my throat is on fire. It was a miracle I managed to hobble out of my flat to have lunch and sit here in the cyber cafe.