So yeah there was this one time a poet friend of mine invited me to watch her rendition.
It was at this house somewhere in PJ, I think they called it Food not Bomb house. Single story, brightly coloured and have various ornaments and weird things hanging about the whole place, it's like a communal hippie home.
until I smelled shit. Probably some dog decided to leave a few scented souvenirs for these poet lovers.
all sort of people began to flock around after eight, some were dressed rather differently, some were overly dressed to get attention which is quite ironic since many tried to do that thus the uniqueness wears off. In fact the most unique person in that whole fiasco was my lovely poet friend who came wearing this dashing kebaya, probably her "baju raya", truly stood out from the hippies.
There was this chick with totoro plushie in her hand and dressed like an anime character, then there's that high drunk hippie, the ones that had to take several shots of JD before rendition.
But you know,
I did had an open mind, I had always fancied the 60s and woodstock and I love people who don't follow the norm. My initial thoughts was that this might turn out to be a very good night.
And I like poetry too.
At first it was decent, some music, some guitar strumming and what not.
Then of course came the real deal,
the deep angry emo against the establishment sort.
Of course there's also that girl who couldn't stop smiling and keeps saying the she loves everyone and everything then sings a song about death and 2008 general elections.
All that talk about universal love came down to 2008 general elections.
There was this one dude who passionately rendered his poetry about Felda settlers, wow Felda settlers, I bet he has never even been to one and the fact that actual felda settlers are quite groovy about the whole plantation thing (I happen to know quite a few settlers).
Later on I found out this was the "Telawi" crowd, you know the Hishamuddin Rais sort, I personally like Hishamuddin Rais, on certain times and certain situations of course.
Well the sort that smokes weed then talk about love, communism, freedom and flaming the establishment.
I mean I guess I could try to blend in,
I would love to learn more,
it's just that
I wish that some of them,
Malaysian Emo Scene,
Ain't about nicely combed jet black hair writing poetries about heartbreaks, no sir, It's all about angry hippies quoting philosophy books.
Oh well, it was an interesting experience nonetheless.
Oh the razor cutting part, well I used to use a razor for shaving and occasionally I'd cut myself. Does that count?