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Hasan Malik is a master of awkward moments and creating unnecessary pauses... being normal is so boring. Trust me I've tried being average it's just not for me. So please join in moments of awkward platypusness and itchy souls because it's good for your health. Random is the name of the game. Internet, Check ✓

Tuesday, November 30, 2010

Happy Platypus Day!

So as I sit in this here Starbucks stealing their free wifi (is it stealing if it's free?) and not actually intending on being a paying customer, I'm looking at today's date...It is this platypus's first birthday! It has been one year since I started using this here patch to rant and rave about randomness, one year since I first admitted to you beautiful people that my soul itched. And it seems like just yesterday that I was writing letters about red puzzle pieces and scratching nostalgia. It's been a beautiful journey and I've gotten so much feedback from all of you who are officially itchy souls. To date this platy patch has had 12,193 page views, 8,864 visitors, 78 followers, a total of 33 post (including this one), and ya'll have been clicking from all over the world (Platypus World Wide!!!) New York, California, Atlanta, Singapore, Barcelona, London, Jedah, and a bunch of other places I've never heard of but am so happy that my words could reach. I really didn't think this would catch on the way it did honestly. I didn't think anybody would give two rats asses and a biscuit about what I thought or had to say. But you guys have followed, quoted, and made this whole thing so much fun for me.
Somebody asked me once who is the awkward platypus. And I told them whoever it was he's a freaking genius. As any good writer will tell you, I can't take credit for these words that you've enjoyed on this hear blog. I've had several post on here, that while writing I honestly don't know where the words came from. I'll like drift off in thought come back to and there's this poem sitting in front of me, with all of these uplifting and inspirational words. And I be like huh? Where this come from?!? Honestly there's times when I'll go back and read old post and be like "damn I can use this in my life right now! Who ever wrote this shit is a genius!" Then I'll realize oh yea I wrote this, then I'll pat myself on the back, lol.
I have to say that I've done a lot of growing and learned a lot over this past year. I think back to the night I wrote my first post, and where I was in my life. And so many things have changed all for the better, I no longer believe in "for worst" because everything that happens can be learned from, life is a positive experience.
I really wish I wasn't currently so scattered brain at this moment so I could actually focus on this post, but as things in my life have changed so have my priorities. And I'm currently in the process of taking life SAT's, standard test after scantron, and ten page essays...but I'm passing and I'll come out the other end stronger and much prettier (*kanye shrug*)
But any who I'd like to invite you all (old members and new) the browse my blog from November to November. See if anything new jumps out at you. And let me know which post is your favorite, I love hearing from you souls of itchiness. So give me feed back! (dammit!) let me know from your point of view how this blog has affected your journey over this past year, I'd love to know. Has it gotten worst? Better? Is it old news now? Let me know your thoughts.
I know that I've been posting a lot of poems lately, It's just that at this time in life that seems to be the best way for me to communicate the way I'm feeling. But don't worry I'm sure that those rants and randomness will be back soon enough. But until then...

My soul itches,signing off
till next time
stay random

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Tuesday, November 16, 2010

People Ask Me Why I Don't Slam

I don't slam because
slamming is a violent act
I'm a love poet.

Ha..Ha..Haiku!...Bless you,signing off
till next time
stay random

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Tuesday, November 2, 2010


In the night I hear them talk
The coldest story ever told
Somewhere far along this road he lost his soul
To a women so heartless
How could she be so heartless...

Isn't it beautiful?
How a relationship that you worked 365 plus days to create,
can be destroyed in one conversation,
...one text,
...one message on facebook

Fate had crossed our paths so gorgeously,
like vines intertwined up the side of an old church
she saw me, then i saw her
...but i think i saw her first
...but who knows she might have beaten me to the glance
either way we talked for hours.
Our conversations had much ado about nothing,
but we both knew that these moments that we shared discussing how we both despised what the old Nickelodeon had become.
It went from being 'all that', to this garbage that they use to brainwash children with,
would one day grow, into a tall beautiful oak, who's roots were deeply connected to the earths core.
Little did we know, that we'd mistakenly planted seeds for a weeping willow.
But in the moment it was so perfect.
I mean she was bad.
Brains so beautiful that you could stare at them for hours,
she had these mind boggling powers,
and the ability to make smart look sexy...
But she instantly became as hideous as Medusa the moment she decided to believe his word over mine...

But I'm getting ahead of myself, anyway let me get back to the story

We flirted like squirrels chasing each other up and down tree trunks over acorns.
We kissed like jelly fish, tentacles wrapped so tightly around each other that the jaws of life stood no chance at separating us.
We loved like Noah and Alley, we had notebook dreams.
We laid under the stop light on George St. interrupted by nothing other than the shuttle bus nearly killing us.
We danced to no music, both wanting nothing more than our bodies crippled with age, but drinking each others juices which were our elixirs of life.
Laid up in a bed somewhere, cradled in each others arms like a mother and her new born,
both prepared to transcend into the next lifetime together.
Sadly things didn't turn out this way

I wanted to love her for an eternity.
But every time I extended my hand to her she always found a reason as to why we couldn't be.
I think it had something to do with my occupational choices,
clearly her father didn't think that a starving artist was suitable to take care of his daughter.
Of course she denied these accusations, but as soon as someone came along who fit the description,
...they were together
We decided to remain best friends.
Even though i wanted to run, break free of her shackles and follow the brightest star towards freedom.
But every time I did she always found some way to return me to the plantation,
...I've got a cherry tree on my back to prove it.
So I had to sit there, and watch him do what I knew that I could do better.
I'm not being cocky, she told me this.
But then again she told me a lot of things.
She told me that she loved me,
she told me that as soon as she was down using him for what ever it was she was using him for we'd be together.
I guess that should have been my first red flag.
I didn't realize that I was the one being used.
You see he was 99.9% the perfect boyfriend,
but whenever she wanted somebody to blow out her back she'd call me.
And since I was an artist I guess he thought I was "the gay friend"...
But he slowly came around to realizing the truth.
She once told that she'd never let anything come between us, but that's exactly what she did.
She knew what she wanted,
and when I was no longer convenient, I was tossed to the side, like the rag doll of a growing girl who was suddenly becoming most interested in boys.
It has taking this sheppard over a year and a half to right this poem,
because I refused to see her for what she really was
...A wolf, in sheep's clothing
Who went after what she wanted and got it.
But I'd like to retract my earlier statement,
because she's nothing close to heartless.
Because she still has mine, ripped out of my abdominal and store in a treasure chest buried probably right next to Davy Jones.
She was my Calypso.
And now I'm just a sailor lost at sea, looking for a light house to lead me home.
But they say home is where the heart is,
so since I no longer have one.
Does that make me forever homeless?

Finding my heart all over again..., signing off
till next time
stay random

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