Jolly O' Reilly

A friend of mine once said that, "You must be crazy for intentionally locking yourself up away from home for 2 months". Kind words that are truly understated . The more I am close to home, the further is myself detached from it. I am taking things real dredgy when everything's shifting in a blink of an eye. Oh, shit. I am home...

Apart from the fact that Subang's temperature is on a sudden climatic rise caused by the sudden absence of the melancholia, shady trees, nothing else is notable. It's like a nail-clipping aftermath. The nails, when left untouched will later dry and rot after awhile but they're still there. Making a steady presence reminding us of what we have left behind that has been without fail, looming against us as we keep on running away from it. As Li said it best, "......a spark embedded in the past, being overwritten gradually with the present". That brought me back to my own to feet. "Don't drink the water.." Dave Matthews chanted. But seriously, how's that possible when you're drowning?

Maybe I'm being overtly melodramatic. Maybe I'm threading the water far too dexterous this time. Maybe I was steadily plaigarised over and over again by my own thoughts. Thoughts that are forced to live by itself. Thoughts that feeds on my sanity. Maybe this is nothing at all after all. It took me almost forever to guard me away from all this self-loathing nonsense and referential banterings. Old habits die hard.

I was first greeted by Efry. He seems tangled deep in his own shit. Miserable I tell you. Keep referring to himself as sampah quite often. He's already there. The silver lining between who he is and who he's going to be. Welcome to the joint my friend, welcome to the joint. Also met Izzat who has apparently traded his drumkits for a pair of body pads and crotch guards. He's back at being a hakka-hopping Kiwi. In sports I mean. Musically, everyone's either going forward, in reverse or has called it quits. Unlike me, stuck in campus with limitations to expand my already twisted mind, seems to be running in circles. Changing language mediums and switching genres does make sense to me for a while before the novelty seems to be dissolving little by little. But that is what I am capable of churning out right now. Efry jokingly said (or was he serious?) that I'm a 'sell-out' for coming up with Ibunda Pop. That's the almost-accurate feedback. But everyone seems to be up and happy for it. Even he himself feels so by asking for a copy of Panggilan Rindu (Dan Awan Pun Menangis....) to be aired on MMU Cyberjaya's campus radio. I ain't placing high hopes on that. Tables will turn if I gave him Sniffing Scattered Charcoal Dust Pt. 1 (Anna's Key) instead. At least that's much more relevant to the on-going urban music scene right now. I lost interest in sparking a revolution in the scene since it's too saturated with bands 'trying to be great'. Not that it's an unhealthy thing but it tends to get ugly with all hands pointing and cursing at each other. No longer is music the last resort for us to turn too when everything else seems to be failing downward spiral.

Being musically literate has always been something monumental, something to ooze about. But once one starts to brag and showboat about it, then there's definitely something wrong. Predictions about this 'epidemic' striking our shores has long gone being made by our predecessors. It has always been something inevitable. But for it to 'bloom' now, no warning was issued. I'm 'infected' with it as well. Hoping for a better cure in the hands of others. The Converted as they hail it. Only shallow...

So my life has hit it's all-time low yet again. I have a mere one week. Happy hunting.