:: A Hundred Metres Of Love ::
Hundred metres of love, can i have this?
Because love is immeasurable.
What if it is measurable?
Trust me, it wouldn't have been enough!
Laughter echoes the living room. It is so good to see Zafran and Lydia playing together. As if I see true happiness that never seems to fade away. Through their eyes, I see the devotion of his love made exclusively for me. While wolfing down Pecan Butterscotch, well it is scrumptious and the taste is good as its sound, i just enjoy watching them playing and laughing. Zafran kuat betul menyakat adik dia (Muazzam said "i don't see that strange to me, he just inherited that skill from you). Why am i to blame on this?
Some gibberish may start in a minute. That's how it works, i mean that's how the life works, my life. I enjoy doing doodling things on this white, clean surface.
I read some where about the hostility factor. According to the research, as you grow older, should be the less hostile you are. Hostility can lead to heart disease. So to those whose bad temper, always in anger, unfriendly or aggressive feelings/behaviour - better stop it! At least you are one step away from getting the disease. You got nothing to lose if you change it for good. Maybe some people can change, well some people maybe not change, up until his/her dying day.
Not surprisingly, if i say there is a group of people who lives in this 'disease' zone and i witness them for years and it seems they just comfortable with it. In another words of saying - never change...at all, in fact it is getting worst. As if they are twisting their own head. I am imperfect either... but i'm not gonna twist my own head thou! I concluded - Life is about making choices, so you choose, then you live with it.
I am not messing with them, so i don't see that's my problem. But if you think you've only got seconds in life to change, then change it. Remember: Life is short. So live your life as nice as Butter Short Bread!
Zafran and Lydia still playing and i still typing some rambles. When i see both of them, there is something that i won't forget. Though it happened a few years ago but the memory is still fresh as a slap across the face. I thought it was something so easy to dispose, but it wasn't. I can't forget those. Bad memories should be treated like a trash and goshhhh.. why i still wanna keep it?
What we should do to something that seems to have governed our life for years? Bad memories example. Bad memories that seems to have chiselled boldly on your mind and would make your hair at the back of the neck stand up everytime the ghost of it haunted you. I don't want to think, sometimes the just show up in front of the door knocking and i don't think i remember sending them an invitation!