Last night I dreamt about falling in love with My Bestfriend. It was the weirdest thing in the world. I had never seen My Bestfriend in that light. If I did, I would have felt differently towards My Bestfriend and My Bestfriend would probably have been My One instead of My Bestfriend. Everything about My Bestfriend was true in that dream, but why didn't I see My Bestfriend that way before? This morning I woke up with a changed view. I did not reach out for My Bestfriend like I usually do everyday because I am afraid of falling in love with My Bestfriend in real life. I know what they say - who else should you fall in love with if not your bestfriend? But My Bestfriend has seen too much of me. If I were to fall in love with My Bestfriend, I got nothing left to keep to myself.
Buat para pemilik buku pertama saya 'Langit Vanilla' yang pernah bertanya, "cerpen Di Hujung Tanduk Gasing tak ada sambungan ke?" Ini jawapan saya.
I will be writing on Astro Gempak for two months starting August, with a short story every two weeks. This is a series of 4 episodes, and this first episode is the piece that you have read in 'Langit Vanilla'. Saya kongsikan ia sekali lagi untuk anda imbas kembali, kerana 3 episod seterusnya akan bersambung dari cerpen ini.
Demi guruku bapakku Pak Agi, dari mana saya mengaji puisi sejak dua ribu dua. Dengan izin Tuhan malam ini, saya dan keluarga kecil saya Wani Ardy & the Guitar Polygamy bakal berpentas di Rumah PENA. Puisi beliau 'Sekarang Aku Tahu' sudah kami lagukan di sini sana termasuk Jakarta dan Singapura, namun inilah pertama kali kami persembahkan di hadapan beliau sendiri. My vocal cords are still swollen, but I shall try my bestest! Please come; everyone's invited.
P.S. All the way from Ipoh, I'll be at Rumah PENA, KL tonight with my books. Jemputlah datang dan sapa saya kalau mahu membeli. Bukan selalu saya turun ke ibukota membawa karya. Semoga berjodoh kita. :)
Write because you want to write and not because you want to be liked. If you write with the intention and expectation of being liked, one day, you will die. Because no matter how favourable and how celebrated your writings are, they are still not enough and will never be enough to win the heart of every single person who reads them. That's correct, you will reach a point where you'll want to win them ALL (though you may not admit this), for you have been groomed and weakened by praises. Sooner or later you will find someone who does not like your writings, or hate them, even. And it will destroy you. This person's honest words of opinion will leave you disturbed and cause you sleepless nights. Writing will be something that is able to kill you, more than something that gives you freedom and enjoyment. The death of a writer is when the writing stops because of fear. Fear of those writings not being liked.