I Am Dilapidated

at first, i thought its all the gas from all kinds of food i ate. raya being raya everything from pizza to nasi ambang goes through the digestion system. urban houses, kampung houses, sub-urban/kampung houses different in its own way. and the soft drinks? every colour you can imagine making you feel relieved to get home just to drink plain water.

but its not that. maybe it is that. but not just that.


its the image i keep replaying in my head. its you and you and you. and not in the good way. everytime i think my head, my stomach goes all wrong. i cant put the right words for it because how can i? it is downright unspeakable. torture. you believed that it is forgivable. and so you decided. hey, what difference would it make right?

wrong as ever. because the more i keep rewinding and replaying, and this goes on at every other second, the more i am convinced that it is unforgivable. trust with me is a very delicate thing. and you broke it beyond repair.


thank you, for yet again I Am Dilapidated.


you can start writing your hate list.