Wednesday, 5 June 2013


Do I ever care about anything, from the day I join this world, till the day the world joins me, growing old; Old enough to be certain of who I am, of what I want and what to believe.

One thing for sure, I care about her. A young girl who trusts me, enjoys to annoy me with an absurd, rational, tricky, silly or even ridiculous questions. She knows how much I like it, being stimulated with such interrogations.

She has style in giving me full ear. Listens and opens up to any inquisition. She said, "honey, this life is an exploration. So come here, rest your bones with me, read me another story."

Somehow she made me believe.

She's a girl, an angel. Smiling sweetly, sitting quietly. Witnessing the whole scenario with her face glows. A young girl who adores me. I believe my baby has eyes all over her body. Perhaps ears or an extraordinary intuition.

She's a miracle, a magical, phenomenal. A mystery, contradiction. Perfection. Sometimes I wish she would put me in a minute of disappointment.

By fair means or foul,  she, with her pride, has reached my soul. What a strike, girl. Nobody has ever made it there or they just missed the chance and by chance, you were there to blame.

People used to hate it, seeing us together.
Well, I bet some of them still do, it's not a wonder.
The enviers or the haters...
There's a lot of fakers, makers, morons plus losers. They are scattered everywhere, like garbage, here and there.

Don't be surprise my lady, and don't you worry. None of them could ever dominate either you or me. All above that, they'll be out of the picture. I reassure you, my girl, forever. FOREVER AND EVER.

What matters the most to me is, you are the best 'goalkeeper'' ever.
"Shhhhh.... keep it zipped, please, tell you the truth, devoutly since 14, I was already sure."
Thanks to our best woman, she never put us on pressure. Remember the words she said, "I believe, you both will go further."

Whilst we were on our journey of a permanent romantic scientific romance,
beyond doubt, those buffoons have interfered again, hoping to plant further skepticism. Yet my Farah and I still maintain our romanticism. And again I thank my soother for convincing me to keep the time lingers.

In the end, amusingly I've gotta question them, "excuse me again, but whose name you are pronouncing? Don't you know I will never ever believe in such 'things'? I'd rather lock myself in a room full of Shakespeare or Picasso would make a perfect partner. Even though Poe would put my head into trouble,
at least, those guys have healthier stuffs to mingle."

I appreciate your effort to push me down, clowns. Sad but you don't see it, that you do nothing but to fool your-own-self around. Well, it's OK if you don't care to thin it down. I presume, you're comfortable to play clown.

I guess in that case, you are pleased to be my guests. What a coincident, we need some entertainment. It's plain to see that this is an excitement. So my girl told me, "sit back, honey, spend them a few moments, this must be amusing. Let's enjoy their delusions."

And I made her believe. She believes in me.

And she made me believe. Believing in this journey, adorn with faith granted to me. My Farah and me. Our life, the destiny and its reality.

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