can't be helped. i really thought i could withstand the pure pressure of living in a harsh, foreign sea-desert without anyone i really knew.
and the thought of seeing the faces of mom and dad and the fear of my lil bro and his lil cousins just nudged me into the edge of evil laughter that, with the help of boredom, haunted me in my every waking hours.
the plan. fast here for at most 2 weeks (just for the kicks), buy ticket fly kl on the very first impulse before 31st, and fly home to jb. one hell of a plan, eh? *evil snickers*
ok.
not really a plan. i'll just follow the moderately impulsive me. rarely failed me.
its not really fun here anyway. summer here sucks. to. the. max. period
i thought when i've finally settled in my friend's house freeloading, life would be much less stressful.
still living on the run. last time from dr. torque (hmmhmm...). now, from the pakcik jaga rumah. he doesn't understand english and i can't speak arabic. i could choose to ignore but he have the authority. the power. and he showed it last nite by cutting out the electricity. thank god just for a 20 minutes. turned out he was asking if there was anybody next door. (it's not a random blackout. i swear i saw the lights from next door turned off after we got back ours.)
needless to say i'm gonna freeload this guy's house till my homeys came back from their umrah.
on the way to here, something intriguing happened. there was a funky looking dude offered me whiskey. turned down but he INSISTED. and i was TEMPTED. if not for my homey was there, maybe, just maybe i could have took a sip. that failed, out the religion card.
"sorry but i'm a muslim."
"really? what is your name?" (notice he was asking this without any apologetic tone or anything that suggested any)
"harith."
butt in my homey, "ahmad."
"oh, my name is muhammad jaafar and that one is my friend, muhammad
AT THIS MOMENT, i just wanna ask "and why are u offering me a bottle of shady looking whiskey wrapped in a plastic bag?"
hell, there were so many questions in my mind but just couldn't be bothered when there was a fuckload of weight strapped on my shoulder.
"nice to meet you", and i ignored.
oh wait, did i just sound all religious just now? but i really wanna have a taste of those so called wretched drinks.
out of curiosity that is.
fuck it.
i really hope God wouldn't take me into these kind of situations again.
well, maybe He already helped by having my homey to be there too.
damn, maybe that whiskey was doped...
but i really wanna taste it. ok, maybe some red wine?
hmm...
firmly undecided, oxy-wut?