It's empty. Fitrah manusia selalunya akan isi ruang yang kosong. Tangki minyak kereta, perut kosong, gelas minum, pagi ahad, malam minggu. You get the idea. So, the same goes for me.
What i'm trying to fill in is, this blog of mine. Not with another versions of 'verses of a slanted braincell'. Don't feel like doing poetry. Someone once said; 'Don't fuck with poetry'. If you feel not like doing it, then don't. Pretentious you're being. Or so how Master Yoda would have said it.
So day one at home. Feels vindicated. You know, like that girl said; 'I never realize how much I like being home unless I've been somewhere really different for a while'. Feels pussy quoting that. Just because the chick spouts wicked lines like a monk chanting mantras and my egoistic hormones won't forgive myself for thinking she's just so effing cool. Don't worry, I'll get over it.
"Pussy, pussy, pussy, pussy." He whispers.
Okay, bukan dalam masa terdekat ni. All in good time.
For now, the pussy misses the mouse.
