BluE Scrubs

"Al contacto del amor , todo al mondo se vuelve poeta" - Tok Plato (mati dah dia ni)


A friend from Belfast buzzed me on the yahoo messenger, after my reluctant waking up from my much needed slumber to recharge.

He's recently visited Barcelona, a place dear to my heart, the place the scent I can still smell, the warmth during the winter month I can still feel.

His description of the city brought back such a sense of longing to be there again, soon I have promised myself, before the winter sulks away. Most people say Paris is the most romantic city, but for me a cross between Barcelona and Venice would be the place instead.

There, I knew nothing but to love, I had nothing but love, I was never shy to smile because I truly was in love. Again, I want to remember, recapture, before cynical me totally miss the idea of being in love.


Cintamu

Dygta feat. Ira


Cintamu yang kurasa
Walau tak terucap s'makin dalam
Cintamu t'lah terukir
Di batas cintaku selamanya


Tak pernah ku mencoba
Lepaskan cintamu walau sesaat
Sejujurnya diriku terlalu sayang padamu
Kuingin s'lalu dalam cintamu


Dan tiada
Yang 'kan memisahkan selamanya
Cintamu yang terlintas
Terbias matamu s'lama ini


Adakah di hatimu
Terbesit satu harapan untukku
'Tuk berjanji selamanya 'kan selalu milikku
Satu cinta


This song was on, over and over again earlier. It catalysed my brewed compassion for a loveable soul, but in a completely dampened, inhibited way. Almost the right kind of wrong.

The song lullabied me to the state of natural anaesthesia, I always believed that sounds and lights should cease to the minimum when I sleep. I woke up, still on the sofa, curled up (with a cramp in my left arm), surprised that I did break the rules.

Then I remembered again , the love I had to let go, and the New Year's eve shift I have to endure tonight. Bollocks!