My Four Point Zero.

I’m not being bias. It is not because I’m with you. I’m writing and saying these because now I’m able to say it without a guilty conscience.

Stealth was what he loved to call himself. And he was that, to be honest. He probably comes off as aloof. I suppose it was different for me. I was just surprised and confused, unexpected.

I wonder what was it about you that got me fascinated. I don’t remember judging you. That is odd. I should have. Maybe I did. No, I didn’t. I remember thinking:

1)      I plopped down to my seat next to you.

2)      You introduced yourself and I remember thinking: Oh. Hi!

3)      After we have exchanged greetings I thought it would have stopped there.

4)      Looks like it never did.

You amaze me with the stories of your life – the countries you have been to and lived in. Even the one where your ear got ripped, or learning the MJ Moonwalk, or having an eagle as a pet, or eating live squid and going for a nude spa, or enjoying a cruise on the Nile River, or banging a Jewish chick. But what captured the essence of it was with the way you narrate these stories. You tell it exactly the same way as you would tell me on how your day went at work.



I have never met another person who has seen as much as you did and remained humble. You are your own government, but it did not bring you out of your ways, the opposite in fact. Why aren’t you caught up in your privilege world? Constantly defying the status quo but with a rational head screwed to your shoulders.

Thank you for being able to tolerate my beating-around-the-bush and vague structured verbal diaherra.

Happy birthday Haikal. I do love every bit of you.



Why's he called 4.0: It's a metric system, I said I'm 0.5 Spoilt and he's 4.0. xx