ngang..ngok..ngek..

pagi ni aku sampai opis pukul 11 pagi..sampai jer aku tengok meja aku dah macam meja hindu mabuk..penuh segala surat..document..dan ntah apa apa dorang humban kat tempat aku..sebelum aku cuti minggu lepas..aku rasa meja aku semuanya clear..ari ni masuk..betul betul buat aku angin..dengan bos aku pun aku angin..dia dah terlepas gi beirut..aku masuk jer dapat mesej kena buat satu charity function dia 12 jan ni kat kuantan..2 minggu lebih jer lagi..hari ni baru nak cakap kat aku...pastu nak dapatkan AC Mizal lah..Saipul Apek lah.. aku cuti ..sorang pun tak sanggup nak settlekan apa yg patut keja aku..tapi bila org lain cuti..aku kena buat semua... tak per..sib baik aku ni jenis malas cakap banyak dengan manusia sejagat ni...

sampai skrg aku tak sempat nak buat apa kat TC..sempat gi gym jer..huhuhuu..aku masuk pagi tadi tengok ada 12 events..2 kena belasah..2 barang aku jual org dah beli..8 hadiah xmas dari member member..ehehehehe..tak pasal aku gi celebrate xmas gak..adeeeiii belasah jer lah...mailbox aku pun penuh..ada yg aku sempat baca..ada yg ignore jer..biasalah..minta duit lah..ajak kawen lah..tapi dlm byk byk mailbox tu..surat dari Aerol ni buat aku ermmmm....Aerol ni baik dgn aku..dia suka merapu..eloklah tu..aku pulak suka melayan..ahahhaha...aku tak tahu..aku baca citer dia ni..aku nak apa...ermmmm

Sent from Aerol_al_Coret Story :) 2007-12-25 - 7:36:59 PM

A chilling and howling wind creeps through the desolate house, whistling between all the cracks in the unforeseen environment. A quiet silence, echoes through the various halls and rooms, leaving no voices or whispers to be heard. Aerol's eyes, cold with no emotion and invisible intent, pierce through the darkness, as if it was not there. A step forward leaves a footprint in the over-zealous dust, but no sounds seems to resonate from it. Surprisingly, Aerol finds his right hand, already stretched out in front of him, as if seeking an unknown entity. With that surprise, a wild chill runs up his back, as if gnawing at something he already knows. Something so important yet lacking form that his brain can not grasp or hold onto it. The intangible thought crawls around the depths of his mind until a loud shatter is heard from the other room. A deep breath resonates from inside his chest as he breathes out a solid cloud of moisture into the darkness. He takes another step forward, and another until a faint, yet familiar sound is heard. It appears to be a lost, yet somehow familiar song from his childhood. As he takes yet another step forward, he is overcome with emotions of sorrow and sadness. The song he hears is of a song from a music box. A box so elegant and prestigious. A box of undying love and nostalgic memories. A box that speaks in volumes, without any words or motions. It is the gift his mother gave to him, shortly before she died. The song, so eloquently played, is “Santa Claus is coming to town.” A soft whisper, as if rain falling from the heavens, but rather from his lips echoes an eternity in his mind. “Merry Christmas.. Mother.”