going to miss it all

I'm going to miss..
waking up late
watching comedy movies with Yayang on my laptop
distracting her with my comic expression
chatting with her as twilight approaches
going to Elya's house and lie beside her on her bed
makan2 at Season's and our favourite panini at Vivo's





shopping for clothes with mak
having heated discussion with abah
getting yelled at for driving on the wrong lane
the tom yam abah used to buy for supper
the smell of cigarette lingering in Ikram's room





I'll miss mak long's asam pedas
miss Nadiah
miss my bestfriends
miss the mamak stall but not the mamak






I guess it's safe to say that I'm going to miss everything.
The good times. The bad times.
Have not used a pencil for quite some time now.
My sketching skill sucks harder than vacuum.
Tulisan macam cakar ayam.....





Thanks to blogging, no one can see how messy my writing is. :)

what is it that makes people so hard to talk to each other?

What is it that makes you and me so hard to talk to each other?
Why is it that when I open my mouth to say something, it doesn't come out the way I want to be?
Why is it,then, when you don't talk to me I feel angry but when you do talk, the things you said are the things best left unsaid?



After weeks and weeks of contemplating on how to tackle down this million dollar question, I can only come up with a few reasons, on WHY it's hard to communicate.



It could be due to the fear of letting your thoughts be known to others. The fear of being judged, the fear of the words itself that might slip from our lips (intentionally or unintentionally), and once the words come out, fearing upon the effect and impact they inflict on the person (or even ourselves). Think freedom of expression. We have the right to express and yet, how many of us are brave enough to fully express ourselves? By expressing ourselves, we make ourself vulnerable. Words can expose a man's soul. Although actions speaks louder than words, but words will be the sole instrument to justify the actions of a man. So, the problem lies perhaps, on our fear of being judged through the words.



Say what you need to say.




Words,words,words words. Nothing but mere words. Yet these alphabets that form a string of word is our previllage that is bestowed upon us. With words we can form an unspeakable bond with another human beings. With words we can make a change, with words our power to do something and take action can be strengthened. Hence, we need to speak UP. Because through words we change something in the air, in the situation at a certain moment. Words change mood, actions, attitude, thoughts and basically anything and everything. But we have so many words, each so different from the other. One same word from a person spoken by another could bring different effects,another meaning,catalysing different feelings, moods and opinions. This is what we call COMMUNICATING with one another.
And THAT, is what makes it so difficult for people to talk to each other. Because talking (voicing out mere words) is entirely different from communicating. I can talk and not communicate, if my words are void of any meanings. Empty like a shell. I can talk and you may view it, taking it from a different angle and perspective, thus changing the entire meanings of my words. How can we communicate thus? If every single words I said fall on your deaf ears? Or if the words I never have said would still be formed from the fruitation of your biasness and personal thoughts?
It's so hard to talk to another human being, due to the difference in perceptions.




The power of words; The pen is mightier than the sword.


"Why didn't you ask me?"
"I was afraid to, frankly."
~ Oliver Barret,Jennifer Cavilleri.


"You told my mom we were not ready to have children yet. You might as well have told her that I'm a lesbian!" ~ P.s I love you.

skinny is the new beautiful

Last week, I bought Cleo (fashion magazine). My friends and I gathered around it in a circle on my bed and we flipped through the pages enthusiasticly. It was after all, the 50 eligible bachelors issue. Heheh... However, the so-called eligible bachelors were rather disappointing. The lip gloss on their lips was quite obvious. Then, as we oohed and aaahed over beautiful pictures of female models in their designer dresses and expensive make-ups I noticed that all the models in the magazines are very skinny. I don't mean model-skinny, I mean anorexic skinny. I look at those advertisements and wondered aloud how these skeletal figures can be considered beautiful. Besides that, everyday in fact, i stumbled across advertisements about weight reducing pills, Osim machines which vibrate the fats off of your body and Atkins diet.

When i was little, I used to hear people say this a lot:
"I want big house, big cars, big tv, and a big spouse."
Whatever happened to having 'big spouse'?
I think nowadays, it's all about being skinny. We have skinny jeans, slim-fit clothes... Heck, even electronic devices are competing to be thin and small!!
Flat screens, ipod nano, motorola razor which won't bulge in your pocket, etc etc~~

The truth is,we only think skinny equals beauty because we are surrounded by influences that tell us this. Of course, mass media is not the only thing that reinforces this. Family members,peer pressure and our surroundings could be the the reasons too. Human beings can be too greedy sometimes. We want to have everything but even if we have all the things in the world, we would go out for space exploration to get what's out there in Mars too.

"Scarcity is the limited resources to satisfy unlimited wants." -Economics.

People in other parts of the world are struggling to find a morsel of food to feed off their starvation and yet here, young girls stand in front of their mirror crying out and say "I'm fat!" when they can no longer fit into an XS sized t-shirts. Instead of looking in the mirror in self-obsession , why not take a look at the picture of starving kids in Africa. If we can muster compassion for them,then let's stop this ridiculous notion of turning anorexic or bulimic.

Oh, and Barbie dolls may look pretty, but they're plastic. I even found an amusing fact that if barbies were a real human being, they can't walk or even stand up straight because the size of their head is too big for their small neck and their dainty feet could not support their massive.... um, bossoms. haha... =p

So, to girls out there: EAT. =)

trapped.

Alone in my room only with an open Chemistry book on the desk as my companion.

Another message from my friend asking me why I did not replied her message last night. Another question from my parents asking me when will be given a semestar break so that we can go to Pulau Redang together.

I am on an emotional roller-coaster ride. I'm up then down. Sometimes I get so high, I'm on cloud nine. Dizzy with excitement and a rush of adrenaline. Later, I fall into what seem like a dark bottomless pit that send me screaming at the top of my lungs. Screaming in despair and hopelessness. Praying for God to help me pull through.

Scared of not doing enough. Of not getting enough. I used to be so carefree. My mind was free.

I was free.

I look at myself in the mirror now and I feel suffocated. I can't run away.

tell me.

I was playing football with my roomate on one morning. The weather was brilliant! Not too hot and not too cold. We jogged around the park twice and we felt really great. That guilt of eating maruku last night while watching The Hills Have Eyes was finally banished from our conscience. The 9 o'clock sun was getting hotter, scorching our skins and evaporating our sweats. We decided to head back home. THEN, suddenly... WE saw one person we didn't quite like. NOt hate, it's just that that person annoys us so darned much.

I said "Uh-oh."
And i can tell my roomate was groaning inwardly. She was looking down to the ground,wishing,i was pretty sure to be anywhere but there at that particular moment.
And that person said,
"Why are u guys playing football?"
What a question. I replied, "We exercise!!" and smiled sheepishly.
"Yeah, so why are you playing football?"he asked again.
I blinked. Once, then twice.
How thick can this person be?
"Because... It's fun...?" My answer sounded like a question. Maybe because i didn't know what kind of answer he wanted.
Irritated, he said, "No, i mean, if you want to exercise, then why are you playing football? You girls should play netball! Why did you go and play football?"

I swear i could have screamed "YOU SEXIST -------!!!"
But I just stood there and smiled politely.
My ma and abah would be so proud of me because I have grown up into one sugar-spice-and-everything-nice girl.*gag* Finally my sharp tongue has lose its edges. Yaay.
None of those wise-cracks anymore. *sigh*


So what if i want to play football?
You can't tell me what to do.
I could have played rugby if i wanted and it wouldn't have affected him in any way at all.
You tell me what to do, I'll tell you this:

Mind your own business. =D

Of heels and feeling like a heel

I shan't keep it a secret anymore..

Have you ever tried being a goalpost?
You read that right, goalpost, not goalkeeper. If you want a first-hand experience, ask Hani and Azreen. They have been there, done that. The only hitch is that they did not do it voluntarily. They were at the wrong place at a wrong time apparently because this striker was in one of her 'moods'.

The striker being me of course.

The story went like this,
Hani and Azreen were walking together down the corridor. They were like peas in a pod. Like B1 and B2 of 'Bananas In Pyjamas'. The sky was blue and the soft wind was like a mother's caressing hand. Life is beautiful for Azreen and Hani when suddenly an object came flying with a velocity of 100km/h towards them. The object flew between Hani's face and Azreen's head. Hani stopped dead in her track. Azreen, who only seconds ago was chattering away happily was struck dumb. Then, when both had recovered from their shock, they turned to look at the 'flying object' now lying in its battered state on the cold floor.

A high heel.

No, a full 2-inches wedge to be specific.

Slowly, they turned to look at their assaulter...

And there was me.
Me, with fire in my eyes and a grimace on my face.

Okay, full stop.

Now we rewind to a few minutes before the 'flying wedge' incident happened.
Miss Say announced that class is dismissed. A girl went out of the class with a handphone clasped tightly in her hand. Bubbling with anger and exasperation, she made a phone call and talked for one whole minute before she finally snapped and ended the conversation. Now ballistic, she tried to keep her anger in check. But, oh how unbearable it was, for she had been keeping her anger inside for days. She paced the corridor with fury in every step she took. She paced and paced and paced aimlessly until suddenly she came to realise that her right wedge was no longer under her foot. Staring ahead she saw Hani and Azreen rooted to the spot a few metres in front of her with 'it' lying on the floor not far from where they stood.

Oh.

=__=

I'm sorry dear Hani and Azreen!!!! Believe me, i did not mean to make you two the goalposts to my flying footwear. I could not believe i did it too. It was almost an involuntary action.

All i can say is, put the blame on my Bugis heritage that somehow gives me (and my whole family) the tendency to throw things when angry and blame that someone who caused me to go she-hulk like that.
To my friend who caused this outburst of temper, I seriously care for you but HONESTLY, stop clinging on to me like a LEECH!!!!!! Just stop! Please start treating me like a friend, instead of a boyfriend because i am sooo NOt.your.boyfriend.
Come on lady. 10 missed calls in a day is unhealthy. If my number could not be reached, it means I'm seriously in the middle of something for God's sake.
With a friend who behaves like this, I don't even need a jealous, needy boyfriend. *sigh.....*

I feel like a heel though.
Lesson learned: When angry, it's best to remember God and perform the ablutions or 'wudhu' as the Muslim say it.


p/s: To Hanibucks and Baskin azira, I give u my deepest apology. You were the innocent bystanders. Now we have found a new weapon for 'Bowling for Kbu' and it's not a gun.


High heels are deadlier. =__=

looking from that window.

I was feeling ecstatic throughout the day.

I went to sleep the night before with a smile on my lips and a fast beating of the heart. My joy could not be contained. Anticipation kept me from sleeping but when i did finally fall asleep, my dream was one that made me open my eyes the next morning with traces of smile that lingered on.

Mid day. And I was still heady with the joyful feelings I had inside. Even chocking on a sharp odour that stung the nose and made my eyes water in one of the classes had zero effect. I was immuned.

The sky darkened. Night fell. With a child-like demeanour, i waited impatiently at the front door. My cellphone rang. Once, then twice. But there was no need to answer that call, because i could see them from the spot where i stood. Like billions of fireworks that went up, up and away to the scattered stars above, that was how i felt when i greeted them. We laughed a little, we talked a little. What lasted for an hour felt like seconds. In a blink of an eye, they had to set out for their journey again.

"Send my regards to Nadiah. Have fun in Bandung!"

I said with enthusiasm I did not feel. A quick hug and pecks on the cheeks, then they were gone.

With heavy steps i climbed the stairs, then i went straight to the window and saw my father driving the car out of the gate.

Cold metals pressed on my cheeks, cooling them. However,something warm trickled down that coldness and my shoulders shook with the force of trying to keep it all inside.

They left me with a clear box filled with water. I peeked inside and saw a green little creature nibbling on a floating piece of cabbage. I sighed and thought,

"If a tortoise is the closest thing i can get now as a reminder of my own flesh and blood, then i shall cherish it with all my heart."