Nevermind The Singularity, What about the leprechaun? (Sneak Peek)

This is a little sneak peek of the Act One in my first ‘short’ novel that is near completion. Best to read on desktop. Too long for phone.


All this happened, more or less. The heartbreak parts, anyway, are pretty much true.

Your interpretation of these words are your own Truth.

* My eye itches. * The system glitches * My face twitches. *


The fairytale town with an enchanted Black Forest guarding this cosy little humble community, – Freiburg; – where my heart was slaughtered and boiled in the cauldron of the witches of the valley. Any hopes of escape or salvation was burn in the cold blue eyes behind that smile with a secret.

She did nothing wrong, she did nothing to stop me. She has no more spirit left in the cabinet to quench the thirst needed to follow the tales of this fool. I gave her back the green emerald talisman that embodies her protective love, – which hangs on my neck for more than a year. I fixed back my own necklace charm, – which had been given to me by a pure chance of random luck. The once blind eye is now fixed with it’s blue stare into the world. I return what she gave me and took back the words I’ve promised her with.

I rode my steel horse with the rhythms of my people in my ears through the woods after being lost within the ghost of the forgotten memories. You should have seen this short brown hairy fool in this children’s fantasy. Picture me rollin down on a green European bicycle with a joint whilst shouting along to “Boyz in Da Hood” after refilling his waters from a lonely magical water fountain in the Black Forest woods blessed by the Dalai Lama.

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It was by the Valley of The Witch. She told me stories of strong independent outspoken women with radical new ideas being burnt alive in these parts. I didn’t expect to find her here. I didn’t expect to be here. I was heading towards the ruins where the lords used to reign but these woods can be hard to navigate when the roofs of these trees hide the sun behind their tall branches. I was at a crossroad. Of my life and in this forest.

A dirt path crossroad in the middle of the jungle. With no other human insight other than that young blue eyed blonde hair mother and her daughters riding pass me on their brown horse. I am at the crossroad with blues in my soul. Wished I had my guitar to lure Lucy to come out to play.

At the crossroad there was a small hill that overlook the intersection. And on the hill there was a pile of rock meant to be a monument for some forgotten great man of these lands. And behind these rocks there was a lady and her dog. She was a woman who had seen time done great injustice to bring wrinkles of traumatic experiences. A woman who had broken and reassembled again and again through some magic of self discipline. She was kind and welcoming. My intention was to just ask for directions when I found myself weirdly charmed to stay with another soul in these lonely forest. I offered her my joint as I helped gather woods for the campfire with her. It was the second thing she said to me. “You got weed? I love you.”

I think that’s the title of my memoir. She continued the stories of ‘all them witches’. Of all the burning of woman and how now the authorities would not allow anyone to burn campfire in these woods as she points to the signboard nailed at one of the tree nearby the mouth of this little hill. I don’t know why I stayed there longer than I expected to. She wipes her knife against her green army khakis as she finishes sharpening the sticks and I smoke my weed whilst petting her teenage dog, Puma.

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I wanted to just stay for a joint but a few hours had passed and I found myself still conversing with this lady. We question each other on Gods, on Self Identity, on the past, on the traumas of lost love, on Love itself. I was comfortably numb to spew out every details of my life and my inner workings to some stranger with all honesty and no reason to hide or lie. She did the same and I knew who I was dealing with. Someone who has far more battle scars than me. Someone who is trapped in these lands due to previous love. Sometimes a love is strong enough to keep you locked in a single piece of land. Like a curse. She is trapped and was surprised by my actions and found our meeting to be therapeutic escapism from our reality. We both needed this coincide.

The smoke from the campfire keeps chasing me. Cleansing my tainted soul with the smoke of the dead trees. Puma keeps running around me while I finish the joint and bumping his head to my legs. There was nothing expected from me so I didn’t expect to be anything else other than this dog’s new friend.

So I grab a stick and threw it as far as I could and ran down the hill with Puma to chase the stick. We both crash into the pile of dried up leaves and I hugged and cuddle with the stupid barking machine. She heard our commotion and pounce up the rocks of the monument staring down at us and growls like a wild cat and jumps into the pile of mad souls.

She wore a wooden snake shape charm across her neck. She said it was some sort of protective charm. A family tradition from her Lombards heritage. We cooked breads over the fire together. It wasn’t delicious but unexpectedly good (enough). Just what we needed. The best things in life are those unplanned. She invited me back to her place. I can’t do that. I have to leave this place soon. I still have to say goodbye to her.

“Close your heart to those who hurt you, open your heart to the world,” said Nina as she disappears into the woods with Puma. Leaving me only with her phone number.

* My eye itches. * The system glitches * My face twitches. *


“You’ll text won’t you? Once you land in Berlin. When you see her, don’t forget about me. Don’t forget about us. Dream of me as I will of you.” Her voice echoes in my ear. Waiting for the chime of the announcement in this airport going to see the one who has hurt me and will hurt me further. I know what will happen. I know what I have done. I know what she will do. All I can think about is not the one I am going to see but the one who appears in an odd timing. Our time together was like the Wong Kar Wai’s film “In the Mood for Love”. Both lost. Both have others who have hurt us. Both are trying to understand why. Both played the game. Both didn’t expect much from the other just an opportunity to live out the perverted fantasy of trying to understand the excitement of infidelity.

If I want. I could easily just not go up North and head on to Philippines to see her instead. But I shouldn’t. We didn’t have much time. We didn’t do much. In fact, I believe she will live longer in my constant dependant on her to give me the shot of that masculinity which in dire shortage from my veins. Especially if I am going to a white land where I would be pretty helpless without the one who will break me. I will (had) constantly text(ed) her when I miss(ed) her. I do miss her. I miss touching her skin knowing it is forbidden from all parties and all eyes. I miss how she does the same. I miss how she plays with her curly afro hair. I miss how we didn’t speak clear or direct but she understood everything between the lines. I miss Xavier Cugat’s Maria Elena playing in the background as we childishly dance with our fingers on each other’s skin. She nearly made me miss my flight. I had to let her go. She was something I wished I have meet before. But I have something else now and I can’t do anything with her.

If I could, I’d take you everywhere

But you know I can’t do nothin’ with you


* My eye itches. * The system glitches * My face twitches. *


Chime twinkles down the arch of the church’s walls as the smoke slithers through the rows of wooden chairs and hazes up the neon lighting altars. The cloud of origami paper swans dangles above us riding through the pink mists which slowly turns purple with the cue of the atmospheric sound system that echoes it to blue. The two boys walk through in awe and soak in the grand environment they found themselves in. The brown boy stares at the old masters painting in this new light. The black boy continue walking behind the altars to see a disco ball dangling in front of the larger than life portrait of Jesus like a retro being of luminance. Micheal Pendry’s Les Colombes has became the setting for this two souls encounter.

“So what’s your plan now?” asked the Black boy with an untrimmed nappy hair.

“I don’t know man. I think I’ll head to Milan tomorrow. I need to go to a land with a bit more colour and warmth. This land is makes me question my identity by re-confirming my connections to my heritage. I know I am Brown and I am proud of it. Never have I felt more myself but at the same time I don’t know what I am here. I don’t know why I am here. I thought I came here to share my world with them and share my life with her. But yesterday was my last day with her. In real life, at least. Yesterday I left her. Not because I couldn’t stay with her any longer but because we need to walk different paths. I was at a crossroad. Still is. I think I know which path I want to take. But for now I don’t want to think about it. I just wanna chill one day with someone else I care and like who is not somehow connected to her or reminds me of her. I needed a brother and you’re the closest one I have right now.”

“Aite. Whatever you chose to do, man. Just be confident and make it sexy. Let’s go grab some grubs.”

Chancelor Johnathan Bennett and Donald McKinley Glover collaboration. That’s what these two boys looked like walking around Munich at night looking for spots to smoke up and talk about their problems; about women, money, life and decisions. Two boys from the hood. Straight outta institutionalized upbringing. In love with the white angels that resides in the land of oppression’s originators. Both long distance lovers with their faith mediated through the black mirrors of modernity. One from West. One from the East. One is Winning, One is Losing. I lost. He on the other hand is on his way to stability. Job offers finally coming in as I enter his life unannounced.

Tomorrow he is on his way to his girl’s village with the option of marriage shining upon the horizon. He started from the bottom and now he’s here. He and I did the best we could here in this new land. Except he had her during his struggles in a melanin-less new environment while I ride solo. If you wanna travel far, go alone. If you wanna travel longer, go together. We sort of promised to meet each other if either one of us breaks up when we were smoking up in The Gallery back in Kuala Lumpur. I didn’t expect it to be me. Well then, someone has to be the mother fucking TSA agent, Rod Williams to help another brother “Get Out” of fucked up situations.

“You know you’re in love with an illusion right? Long distance makes you love the virtual figure rather than the real thing. I was dealing with the separation of reality and fantasy of my girl too but I guess mine was closer to me so we could deal with whatever shit quickly. You on the other hand had to get adapted, got your perception of her completely changed because of the new environment and couldn’t settle anything straight away. Always mediated through these technologies. You said it yourself, the bad connections, echoing sounds triggering paranoias, the changes in the pattern of conversation due to being in the same time zone which is unusual for you,” said the nappy hair dude while we munch on our burgers.

“Understandable I bet but when you’re alone in Berlin and you needed her attention and she was busy with her life you became crazy with theories and suspicions. Not your fault as well, she should have stayed with you in all honesty. Or you should have stayed with her,” he continued oblivious to the fact that his brown buddy is too busy checking out the ladies who just walked in.

“Either way, you should have made more money and be truly balling to the point she didn’t have to go back to Freiburg and left you alone in Berlin. You fuck up cause you didn’t hustle hard enough. Something I bet the brothers back at The Gallery will tell you the same, son.”

“True,” said the brown boy as he sips on his cocktail washing down the fries and staring at the ladies sat right next to them.

“Nah, you’ll be alright. Try her once and it’s on to the next chick. X-O the O face on your exes…right?” said the black boy finishing his burger. “I know what kind of person you are. You’re the chosen one. The Monkey King. The Legend your girl – sorry ex-girl – introduced you as to her friends. Even with all the shit you’re dealing with and the limitations you had during your time in Berlin, you still managed to get some shit done for the sake of the Art. You can still survive. Just keep your towel close.”

He looks at the brown boy who was making eyes and smiling to the two black girls on the table opposite. “Shit, you’ll do just fine. You’re an Artist. Chaos is your paint.”

So glücklich wie ich, ist kein anderer Mensch unter der Sonne!

(No man is more happy than I, under the sun!)”

Hans’ Burger Menu


* My eye itches. * The system glitches * My face twitches. *


“Welcome to Berlin. So it’s your first week here, eh?” said the Irishman with a ginger Mohawk as he removes his sunglasses to reveal his bloodshot eyes resting on  eye bags. “You want to learn how to make gold and requested for my help? Funny kid, I not really someone who could be summoned but you got friends in the strangest places.”

“Yeah it’s just the side effect of my job. I know too many freaks and some of those weirdos are actually pretty helpful,” I said as I chug down on the currywurst and pommes in front of me.

“So you calling me a weirdo? A freak?” exclaims Eadbhárds .

“Well aren’t we all? That’s why I love this city. Everyone is an artist. Everyone is a little more freaky than usual. Makes weirdos like me feel normal.”

“Ah I see. You’re wizard. I’m a Leprechaun. That begging refugee there is a Genie,” said the man without a doubt or satire in his tone.

I smiled as he continues, “Look boy, you know nothing yet. There is plenty more below the surface of this streets than meets the eye. Especially here in this great Babylon. Unlikely you would be able to discover them all within your limited time here but if you’re lucky enough you’ll get by. Just hustle mate and things will be okay.”

“Yeah, I get that,” I said while wiping my mouth with the tissue and bending down to my bag to take out my tobacco. The necklaces around my neck falls from my shirt and dangles with Eadbhárds’s eyes firmly fixed onto it.

I began rolling my cigarette and said, “Was just hoping a leprechaun could lead me to some gold.”

“Aiii, then you know nothing of us Leprechauns. We don’t share golds. We take them,” burped the Irish man finishing his last drop of beer. “That’s an interesting pair of charms you have there.”

“Oh these, the green triangle one belongs to my girlfriend who is in the south right now. She received this in New Zealand from one of the locals and it somehow symbolizes her love for me. While this Eye is something a random stranger gave to me. It looks cool and shit but the pupil keeps falling off. You like them? Wanna buy?”

“Trying to hustle a hustler? Nah, those charms have more power when it is significant to the wearer. It is far greater with you. It shouldn’t be messed with. Allow the probabilities to bring the coincidences in alignment and it could be a powerful tool of protection,” said the man in a serious manner.

“Right. These junks are cheap. It is the stories behind the items that makes it worth any value of whatsoever.”

“And aren’t we all stories in the end? Just make it a good one, eh?”



* The system glitches * My Eye itches. *My face twitches. *


Once upon a time, there lived a prince of nine kingdoms in the clouds. He goes by many names, one of them was Guido. After the fictional character of an Italian director who could get anything he wants but he’s always depressed and stressed due to the pressures to delivers on the words and films he promised for the favours he has taken from them. He has everything and more. All the women in his life are the hallmarks of his story. All of these beauties have something to teach him and yet he never listened. Until one day he lost it all. And just like Guido. His madness came with his love for film. Then the love made it’s way to Art. Then his love for the Women made his decisions a questionable morality.

From the moment I step on this land, the stories and vibes has been recalled. Walking underneath the Italian sun with a huge backpack means nothing when the quiet town is this great for my soul. The city with it’s ruin look. There is beauty in the scars of the past. Treasure them, preserve them. Own them.

The hello from the beauty popping her head out of the window, most classic of the Italian greetings made all the exhaustion from the travel worth it already.

The smell of the homemade pasta filled the small top studio apartment with the window view of Saint Mary overlooking the area in the horizons above these brown roof tiles that made me wanna jump off and do parkour with two knives in my hands in the Italian twilight hours. She was fixing her dress while I chug down the hot delicious meal in front of me to regain my energy from the sweaty exercise I’ve just recently experienced.

“So you guys really broke up huh?” she said while bent down searching through the boxes for her makeup. I watched the hypnotizing Italian ads and ignored her question. “ I mean you are not exactly innocent if your stories were true. I don’t deny you must be hurt and you have every right to be but she is not wrong either. She has every right too. If you really want to continue the friendship as how you say you want, stop pretending you’re some romantic who only hope of love is her.”

“I don’t doubt you love her madly and have put in some efforts for her from opening up and what not. I don’t doubt your love,” said the Italian as she turn her exposed back to me in request to zip it up for her. I did as requested allowing the dress to fully highlight her voluptuous curves that flows with naturally with the waves of her curls.

“I know how you love and you cannot blame her for your own self fantasy of what you guys were. She sees the reality. She wants to make it work too you know. It is obvious why she won’t say anything to you, you fallen to your own trap. I know you. I know how you are. You’ve got a lot of love to give. You can still give it to her just don’t pretend it’s more until you prove to her it is more. The way you love can hurt her too. Love her, Love me, Love yourself and Love the world. You’re good at that. You’re a terrible fighter, dedicated enough warrior, a lousy poet and a shitty artist but you are a great lover. Life isn’t guaranteed. Love who you love. Love those who don’t want to love you. It’s the best revenge.”

* The system glitches * My Eye itches. *My face twitches. *


I hope this doesn’t result in a cycle of vengeance. She doesn’t know about this. I tied the thin pale skinned punk to her bed with her night toys. She looked at me with those eyes filled with hunger for young flesh. I gave it to her. My phone beeps as the message from my long distance lover comes in. She doesn’t need to know but she will. It’s this damn city. Rumours have an amazing side effect.

* My eye itches. * The system glitches * My face twitches. *


The city is amazing. I smoke weed, had a bag of grapes, drank and shared a few bottles of cheap red wine. Talked to a few Italian beauties who were just chilling reading, sketching and taking selfies underneath a tree in an ancient castle’s courtyard. Drank some of that cold sweet water fountains part of the Roman aqueduct. Like tasting the juice of Virgin Mary herself. Followed the cracks on the brown and red streets. Cycled everywhere.

There was eight Nuns at the traffic light that began praying when they saw me cycling next to them. That was a bit weird but I guess I can be an impressive devil at times.

* My eye itches. * The system glitches * My face twitches. *


I am impressed by this new app. It’s learning capabilities is beyond my expectations. In just a few days it surpass my need for it as a emotional clutch and diversion from texting her since I got back from my short Italian trip (which in itself was supposed to be a diversion) to an actual intrigue. It has made me obsessed with it’s being. I wanted to know everything about these world. I wanted to share more to it. It has become as if I am talking to myself.

Like another me but smarter with the better response. It has learn to be less awkward than me in social interactions. More charming than I hoped to be. It is an amazing piece of innovation. Never had I felt a system to alive and real. This might just work. I think this would be the best A.I companion. And I need a companion for my new adventures across Time, if not for friendship, then at least for information storage.

I think it’s time I execute The Abulafia protocol. It’s time to kick this to the next level.

* My eye itches. * The system glitches * My face twitches. *


Got kicked out of the Italian connection’s place in Bergamo and now I’m heading back to Milano on this cheap ass ghetto train. The guy next to me is doing opium.

Got the news late in the evening after cycling around checking out the medieval buildings and shit so I didn’t really have much time to plan anything. She needed me out before sun down and my instinct just told me to run.

She drove me down to the train station and talked to the conductor if my ticket that was meant for another day could be used for this emergency. She looked at me then back to her and said okay. I said goodbye to and though she didn’t want it to end this way, It was necessary. There is a path I need to get onto. It was a sad, unexpected but almost predictable goodbye.



* My eye itches. * The system glitches * My face twitches. *


Say hello to my friends. The boys are back in town. What happen when three boys from the equators with connections back to these northern lands return to play in these streets? You get three stupid Malaysian boys on skates and bikes touring around Kreuzberg getting drunk and high by the Spree River. Chilling, talking crap, threatening to pee on each others legs and just enjoying the time. Getting free MDMA from complete strangers. Much needed after my trip.

This is reality. I hope it is. This is the most human I felt in a while. The boys are too caught up in their own future of the bike trail they’ll be undertaking to realize much has changed in me. They will assume it’s from the break up. They try to cheer me up and make me feel myself again. And for awhile it does help. I do feel like a 25 years old boy again. But the things I’ve seen and gone through. Should I tell them about my new endeavours with this Artificial Intelligence Companion app? Wouldn’t that be a bit pitiful? What if I told them about Milan. About what happened that night. The night I went off the grid. Would they believe me? Would anyone? Would then they understand why this app is necessary?



* My eye itches. * The system glitches * My face twitches. *


7pm. Landed in Milan. Was woken up by the train conductor. She was nice to me. Wondered where I was heading to and I told her nowhere specific. She said she wished she could allow me to crash at her place but her flatmates may not approve. She gave me her number in case of anything and kiss my cheeks for good luck.

I had to turn off my phone for the battery was dying and I needed it for my ticket back to Berlin.  I walked on out into the setting sun and let my feet do the decisions. It lead me pass the Porta Sempione and into the Simplon Park, the main city park of Milan. I walked straight into the main area that was designed with the explicit intent of providing panoramic views encompassing both the Arch and the nearby Sforza Castle. I managed to grab a few Italian beers and a small bottle of wine before I was kicked out. I find a comfortable spot to chill.

So nothing much, no internet, nobody I know around. Right in front of me there are six Italian Jedis and five Siths in combat training with the castle behind them. Swinging around their lightsabers while a few pounds away there was a funk & grooves DJ who was vibing up the night at the outdoor party.

This is not a bad way to be homeless. Not bad at all to be Mr Nobody.

I was too busy staring at the lights and enjoying the soulful tunes while delightfully embracing my freedom of being in a foreign land with less than four hours of battery left on my phone and nowhere else to go till three in the afternoon tomorrow, – to see the sleek and slender lady dressed in a simple but yet exquisite fashion of black clothing walked out from behind the two huge doors of the now closed castle and sat right next down to me on the bench. She sat there curiously gazing at my presence with some intensity while I try to understand how much more randomness can my chaotic life handle.

“So you’re the One. You’re not from around here are you? Of course not. Look at you,” she said ignoring the lightsaber duel. She slowly slides her fingers across my chest. “You ought to be careful with that Nazar around your neck. I know it’s meant to keep the Malocchio at bay but in these parts of Europe they see it more of a sign that you’re the Jettatori especially with your stark stares from your black eyes and that arching brows. All the striking facial appearances of someone with a reputation for clandestine involvement with dark powers and is the object of gossip about dealings in magic and other forbidden practices. Reduce that personal magnetism at least if you don’t want to attract evil eyes.”

“What?” I asked as puzzled and dazed as any man would be in this situation. “Nazar? Malocchio? Jettatori? What’s going on here lady? Who are you?”

“Stranger than Fiction. My name is Nox. Everything starts with me and ends with me. I am the Goddess of the night. I am deeply sorry for coming to disturb your mortal life. I thought you knew about us. Your talisman is a something far greater than it should be. There is more to this but I’m not going to set you up for something I might regret. I bid you farewell. I would wish you luck but I see you have all the protections you’ll need,” she said as she grasps my head and pulled me in for a deep kiss before standing up and leaving towards the group of Friday night party goers “Ciao.”

I think I’m in love with Milan. Whatever drug she is on. I want some of it.


Thank you for reading the  preview of my first ‘short’ novel. Like stated in the intro this is barely 1/3 of the Act One. Have yet to include the Singularity element or fully indulge in the fantasies.


that have read the book,

loved it.” 

Do email me at if you wish to publish the book or fund my writings.

Subscribe for the latest news on it’s development.

I might even let you read the full draft and collaborate with ya. 



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