die alte frau

two boys were smoking while eating, then an old woman walked up to them. turned out the old woman was a salesperson selling local snacks. she was old and ill, tired according to her. she persuaded them to buy her stuffs. two boys hesitated but bought some. she was still there, sitting, sad faced, looking at the boys, asking do your mom still alive? the boy smiled, nodded and asked her do she has children. vague smile she answered yes. her son still young and she is too old. old woman breathed deeply. two boys were awkward and sympathy. old woman went away with a sad face after thanking them. two boys felt bad. silence. two boys stared die alte frau until she disappeared.

jeremy atticus finch

it was 7.13 pm and the sun was hanging just one inch from the horizon. he was driving alone cutting through the crimson light. the car radio was broken and he was so bored caught in the traffic. he smoked heavily and frequently, half of the box was empty. as he was about to light another cigarette he suddenly got an idea. he twisted his body to reach his laptop at the back seat to bring it to the front seat and then turned it on, hit the itune while slipping the cigarette on his left ear holding the steering tightly with his right hand gripping the lighter ready to listen to the first song in his playlist. it was adele's one and only. as the traffic light turned green, he sped up the car escaping from the congested area and quickly skipped the song. he was so sick of the song. the next song was you know i'm no good by amy winehouse. at first he was chuckling, finding himself singing along to the tune with tony bennet's voice. he was literally dancing while driving. then there was jasne bahara by javed ali. he apparently knows every word of the song and he was thinking that he was feeling the peace through the song though he never knows how the feel of peace is. when he suddenly bored again, he grabbed the cigarette on his left ear trying to light it up when an excellent intro of everybody's on the run hit his ears. his every move suddenly stopped and the car slowed down. as he was passing a beautiful greenery, the crimson seemed more concentrated and he looked deep into it. the song hit the chorus and he was crazy. he smoked the cigarette deeply and was hitting the lighter onto the steering trying to follow the tune. the fuel, clutch and brake pedal was pushed by him as he likes according to the song's beat. one girl driver crossed by rudely and he was cursing at her first then smiled at her when he realized she was hot. the girl leered at him. he shrugged and suddenly he felt free. he knew that feel. always. kind of feel that he always refers as a feeling that everybody should know. amidst the whirling smoke of his cigarette, he suddenly knows the feeling of jeremy atticus finch when knowing that mrs dubose was dead. free. as his thoughts played along with the song, he was not so aware until if i had a gun song also by sir noel broke into his eardrums. ignoring everything around him he shouted the song very loudly that the voice was coming from his cerebrum. his eyes almost popped when he at the top of his lungs shouted i love you noel, like every girl would do at the gig. then the aka.. broken arrow song by noel is in the air. so so weird that the tune was playing the songs from same album three in a row though it was set to shuffle the playlist. hat trick from noel is enough to make his day. he laughed lunatically at his own reflection in the side mirror. the ray of the dusking sun seemed very bright and shy, blended with the grace of the ocean on the left of the road. the ocean where a lot of his childhood memories littered here and there. his mind immediately plays back one of his childhood memory when he was safuwe's gordie lachance and safuwe was his chris chambers. the shuffled playlist that time was playing imagine by the late great lennon. he was stoned as if he did not care if his car will suddenly fell into the river. he almost hit an old man cycling on the side of a narrow pathway. he did not push the brake pedal when he saw a paddle which he rarely did. his eyes stoned, both of them and he felt like flying. his heart melt like a candle by the song's fire and the gloomy sunset. he suddenly woke up into real world when the song stopped and he found himself under the porch of his house at the same time. then he dragged his ass up and wrote this. ;)

soulsucker

this post is out of time. remember these pictures? (arranged in order) it's from if i had a gun and aka.. what a life video clip. featuring the handsome gaf super 8 camera. i was searching high and low for this antique stuff but i just couldn't find it. super 8 is very interesting because it has the design of gun like holder that the modern day video maker lacking of. it makes it looks fucking original and hippy. not to mention the significant value it possesses (on my behalf of my memories). but my urge to at least hold this old camera came after watching the videos. the one that noel used in his video is from the gaf, a made in japan. it looks more adorable and stylish in noel's hand (which me likey). kahkahkah. looks like any shits touched by noel will turn into gold eh? hahaha. i know, i know. bye guys, gotta hit the bed (yawn). btw what is the meaning behind the 'soulsucker'? anybody?

a story of a french beginner

so there was a boy, talking.. and we were listening to him enthusiastically..

"you guys must have been asking why do i want to learn french? its not because i find it as a beautiful or sexy language or some shits like that. its just because of this one occasion on one fine day when i was rushing back to my college and i was standing beside a girl.. in a train.." (fetching a deep sigh while his eyes looking vacantly towards a window, a sign of falling in love..)

"she was very beautiful. she was standing at the corner near the door, between her two legs was a paperback and was wearing slim dark eyeliners, with acceptable messy black hair, loosely pony tailed, a pair of blue tight jeans with blowy brown blouse with colorful geometric pattern on her chest, paired with dark brown laced suede shoes, one of them untied. i just cant keep lookin.." (paused, then lighting his cigarette, the itune was playing a song by indochine, l'aventurier)

"so then i was thinking that im actually going to tell her how beautiful she is - which was crazy! and yeah, btw she was wearing pink metallic ehem, bra (we were all laughing, then he added) what? i saw it when she was adjusting it. and when the train stopped at my destination, as i was about to go out from the train i tapped her shoulder and said, 'hey, you're so beautiful.. just dont change anything..' (one of us went like "come on tell me about it, tell us what happened after that man!" and he smiled and continued)

"and she was like smilin and lookin at me, between amazed and frightened, and she was saying something in french. i know it was french cause i heard something like 'merci' and the rest of it i just dont understand at all. i was totally blur and speechless. and so the train went away. so yeah, thats why buddies.. oh and i find her more amusing when she was speaking francais.. haha! and hey you buddy, (lookin at me, i was not quite aware, taking a deep inhale of a cigarette) i heard you're learning russian now?"

ivres & débutants by deportivo (jamming session) from barclay on vimeo.

so that was it. our evening chatter just now (maybe some parts of it exaggerated). i decided to record it in this humble blog. by the time you finish reading, enjoy this video of julien bonnet, jerome coudane & richard magnac's classy jamming moment. just for you french beginners haha! julien is so cool. im sick of him being very calm and cool. au revoir! (wink and walk away).

christoph rehage is my hero!

to alay for the brief shah alam journey and chasing the rainbow in the island together with mike & ajey, my beloved brother mat piyie as great companion in growing up journey, ah leng for the sleepy ride at night along the coast, pokka for some of the longest journey home, buleng for the many times back and forth journey everywhere and others who i ever shared my journey through my bittersweet-been-there-done-that moments in my life. haha. and for some who for their deeds i look up to, who i hang on a second when they talk, who live in my every songs i whistle, who i call them hero. here you lay in my heart, esp you grandad.

the longest way 1.0, one year walk & beard grow time lapse from christoph rehage on vimeo.

i wish i can do something as close as this cool one day. i mean i always wanna do something outrageous, challenge myself, push my limits and my freedom. but i dont quite really know what it was until i stumble upon this cool video. then so i thought this is something quite what i wanna do. haha. thanks christoph for the clue. this guy is one of the coolest in my list now. haha. and like what he said in his blog, the most important thing to do something is to take the first step. yeah something quite like it. inspired mood, now on!

l'homme pressé de noir désir

some say a musician don't dance. some say a musician don't do drugs. people can say what the fuck they want you see. they can talk about what they like to talk about. life, donkeys, weather, scuppernongs, politics, al hambra, history, coconuts, love and etcetera. a lot of musician have their own music that changes their life. in fact they changed others' life with theirs.

noir désir - l'homme pressé from ing gallagher on vimeo.

btw there are a lot of musicians who talk about politics. this is one of them. the tune is so rebellious and pure. des paroles is radical and avant garde for the time it was produced. very good choice for a hard rock headed person. perfect song to annoy your stupid college roommate just for fun. put it to the max volume and there you go. and for french slow learner this song is an excellent choice to practice your pronunciation lol. happy trying and listening. au revoir. bertrand cantat is fuckin genius eh?

gobshite part 3

" i have never cried over music. never. i'm not that kind of person. i don't think any piece of music ever has made me cry. that's not the fault of the music. i just think i am quite a cold person. i can appreciate someone pouring their heart out in music but still end up analysing the chords and thinking, "you shoud have gone to A minor there, mate." birds cry over music. i put the kettle on."

by the man in the poster who i share my mind with