5am.

I can't sleep.

And listening to Anuar Zain's Lelaki Ini definitely does not help.

It's a song about how one man suffers because of his undying love.

Humans are funny in that way - the more they try to switch off something, the less likely they'll be able to forget it.

Music, you play a huge part in my life.
When I feel murderous, I put on some rock.
When I need to be soothed, R&B comes to the rescue.
When I long to be appreciated, Bach, Mozart and the likes come knocking.

I keep my options open. Too open. And that, ladies and gentleman, is why I'm listening to this song right now. I've heard a lot of people going ga-ga over this song.

Now I know why.

Universal heartbreak.

Something everyone can relate to.


I digress.
I did not come online at this ungodly hour, without even a minute's worth of sleep yet just to rant about lost love.

The truth is, I don't know why I'm here right now.

Not in front of the PC here, no.

I mean, life.

I thought I had everything charted out. Everything was just waiting for me.
Gone are the days when people would come up to me and ask for my name to write down into their little black books, thinking that I'll be on national media again.

The truth is, I don't even write into that little black book any more. Why bother?
There's nothing left to look forward to.

I can't live a routine - that's not me. I am too random for life.

I refuse to have life dictate what I have to do.

I still want to jump out of the ocean onto the moon, I can't swim with the fishes forever.
Fishes don't swim backwards. My whole point of existence is a double parallel of. pseudo-existence. It's like having double-multiple-personality and insisting that you only have OCD. While we're on that topic, I think my 'OCD' is getting more and more intense nowadays.

And yet, I still live in the past. Look at my watch here. Worn since 1997.
Not that I'm complaining but I'm the sort of guy who can't get rid of something I can still use. Or still need.

You know, I've always thought I'm better off now than I was 3 years ago, when it all started.
I always think to myself, 'if only I can be the person before 3 years ago' and what do I get?

Little black books, with nothing but phone numbers and names written, hidden between the pages, to forever be lost once the new year approaches - and you get a new diary.

But me, maybe my diary works differently because every day turns out just like another yesterday.

So what is the whole point of this post?


I need some sleep - maybe THEN I can figure it out.

Good night, dear Yesterday.
I'll see you again Tomorrow.