There goes it

The Ataris goes: Only two more days until your birthday....



Ha! I wish. After you multiply the original 5 days of my mid-sem break, you get A WEEK AND A HALF. Then you subtract that further and it totals to, let me see, ahah. 2 DAYS. Less than 2 days in fact.


Hooray. Not.


I used to say to my mum; when I turn 18, I'm gonna pack all my things and leave home and never come back.
That was said during the not-so-good days. And obviously, the aftermath of reading too many fiction stories. Leave home and never come back my ass.



10 things I love about home:


1. I don't have to eat healthily. All the junk food and everything the not-veggies.

2. I could afford to be sick and still refused to take my medicine.

3. I can be fat and be totally be fine with it.

4. I can sleep at 4 am and wake up at noon WITHOUT setting the alarm clock.

5. Neverending supply of hot water.

6. In-satisfactory-condition room and messy bed.

7. Bibits!

8. F & F, family and friends- funny they come at number 8 but who cares.

9. Being back in Miri- and this, number 9. Again, WHO CARES?


And last but not least,


10. NO quizzes, NO tests, NO presentations, NO studying.



The FRIM visit was yesterday. I totally missed it. As much as jungle-trekking and Bio was fun, I would rather be in Mall, eating ice-cream and having pauses conversation with my old friends. Luckily the report and assignment are to be done in group. And luckily they haven't covered much on the other subjects. Now I can breathe. This should teach me to never self-extend my hols ever again. Bleh. As if that would happen.

Why is it that the others have months and months of hols while I only have 2 weeks of hols max? Maybe I've enrolled in the wrong place. Lol. After this, it'll be hectic. Make that hectic and hell. To cover 5-6 chapters in less than a month for 5 subjects. Let's see whether I'll have the time to call Dad crying and complaining on how I couldn't solve those physics questions.

Ah, at least I got some good memories this time.

+ Burnt cookies. Exploded egg in microwave. +

I'm starting to think microwave is a dangerous device after all.

Oh well, what else can I say. Fun time is over.

Moments play around

Ever realised how things always turned out to be the opposites than the ones we wanted?

When we wish for the hands of the clock to stop moving, time seems to sprint after tomorrow without intolerance. When we look around desperately for the rainbow, grey clouds wave by. Beautiful moments in life especially, are not meant to last forever. Something worth fighting over, worth the tears and sweats, and worth the wait and patient. Seeing the stars present at night and absent during the day. The seconds of the sun rising and setting. To know that they're there, yet we couldn't keep them with us any longer than we would have wanted to.

Life has its own means when it comes to dealing with humans. One second we're high up in the air, wings fluttering with excitement, and the next we fall down to the ground with a thud. Toppling everything upside down, causing what was once steady to crash down on top of our heads. Then without any hint or warning, we find ourselves crawling through the mud we once carefully avoided. And then we said to ourselves, "Life is cheating on us.". On each one of us, life is constantly playing games. They could be pleasant at times, but they are, without doubt, temporary. We look up to the golden sun, shining its light so bright it's blinding and it hit us; maybe being temporary isn't such a bad thing at all.

We see far more of the thorns and weeds than we do of flowers. We work hard to tend to the lilies, to keep them blooming rather than for them to wilt and die. Then winter comes and take it all away. The sea of white, pink and blue. The breathtaking view, the sweet smelling that fumes the air but most of all, the time, money and energy spend. We blame nature. We curse the obvious unnoticed coming. But when spring comes, we find ourselves doing it all over again; planting the seeds, watering the plants, letting the colours liven the world once more. Even if we knew, one fine day, they would be wiped gone when the time came.

We threw our head back and laugh. Then halfway we stop, knowing the joy isn't there to stay. It will, one day, disappear. Is it wise to laugh now and cry later? Or do we neither laugh nor cry both now and later? Stop savouring moments to avoid the unwanted. Until enjoyment becomes a distant. Not worth it.

Various people live for various reasons. Living for him. Living for her. Living for that thing. When they screw their lives, then so do ours. When that thing gets loss, breaks or thrown away, then our lives end. We live for everything but ourselves. We stop doing things because we, for once, want them. We become puppets to our choosen masters. A reason to be controlled and to be on a leash. A reason to not have a mind of our own and to always have something to blame for. It is an idea that living shouldn't be based on anything. Not something that walks, breathes and solid.

Live for ourselves. Live for the moments which belong to ours and ours alone.

It's A Lullaby

The nightlamp at a corner of the room is switched on, lighting the total darkness and creating a dim effect on the baby laying in its cot. Its mother sits beside, patting it with a look of affection on her face. The mobile hanging on top slowly spins around emitting a soft song, sending it to sleep....

Rock-a-bye baby, in the tree top
When the wind blows, the cradle will rock
When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall
And down will come baby, cradle and all

And then it grows up and no lullaby in the whole world could lull it to sleep as it used to before.

When you wouldn't sleep, wishing you don't have to. Refusing to shut your eyes and giving in to the exhaustion. You're afraid of what your dreams would tell you. You're afraid of knowing what you refuse to acknowledge. You're afraid to see the hopes building up. To discover and to embrace the hurt again. And you wish the beautiful dreams would drift away, replaced with the usual pitch darkness.

When you couldn't sleep, even when every cell in your body screams for rest. You're jumpy, you're restless and your mind just wouldn't shut down. You wish your body could work like an electronic device; plug the charger in and switch it on.

And yet, it could be your only zone of comfort. Waking up in the morning and spending the rest of the day looking forward to the moment when you could get under the duvet again. Anticipating eagerly for tomorrow to arrive, hoping to kill the passing moments. Just so you could shut everything out. Every single thought, every unwanted feeling, every lingering problem.

There will come a day when a lullaby is just a lullaby.

And the lights went..poof

Funny how it seemed that wherever I went today had one thing in common; blackout. Parkson, Mall, and yeah, even Cafe Rosita.
When the lights went out in Parkson just now, I could only come out with one word to describe it : COOLNESS. Besides, how many times could you experience blackout in a shopping mall? Not many, that's how many. And just after The Golden Compass has ended too! Perfect timing. Only after a while, the enjoyment started creeping away. How were you supposed to buy stuff when it's even hard to look at them? And I was sweating. That, above all, did not spell cool.

Being that, we (Ct and A-g and me) decided to go to Mall. It was the nearest place to hang out anyway. Only to discover that, tadaaa, there's no electricity there too. But there's ice-cream which was good enough for me and the air-con was slightly cooler (good back-up power yeah) but again, we ended up doing nothing. Most of the shops were already closed or being closed so we decided to call it a day.




Oh yea, I forgot to mention the outmost important part of all: Today in history, 22nd December 2007, I, Nurisa Bt Mohd Sabri was not only EARLY for once- I was the EARLIEST one. Ha! Take that Mr. Smarty Pants! I took extra efforts to make sure of that knowing that a certain someone would have an endless list of complaints- which I'd have to hear until the day I die- if I was late for the 100th time. And also, just so he couldn't use his trademark excuse, "I knew everyone else was gonna be late anyway.". Bwahaha. Big fat evil laugh.

And oh, for Muslims, Grand Palace Hotel isn't halal anymore. Their halal certificate was withdrawn since Best Western restaurant shared its kitchen with the chinese restaurant upstairs. Just a passing information. There goes my second favourite restaurant......NOT. I have no idea why my parents love it there, I for one, HATE it. The food are nice, no doubt but... the lights are too dim. That's the main reason why I used to skip our family dinner. Good food or not. Give me kedai mamak anytime. At least they have the common sense to switch on the lights. Speaking about that and relating to the blackout in Cafe Rosita, and so, we had our romantic candlelight dinner. I did mention about hating dimmed lights earlier didn't I?

Another day

At last I can sit down and blog. After sweeping the floor, did the dishes and laundries and a number of other things. Save the jaw-dropping-OMG-I-couldn't-believe-she-did those reaction because those are what I've just done.

My maid's not here and someone had to do those okay.

Hari Raya Aidiladha. 80% of the food were imported from Gran's house. Except for the roasted lamb, baked cheese cake and mixed veggie with cream cheese. An applause for my mum for whipping those up last minute. At least it wasn't such a disaster. Haha. I doubt I could do those- I'd burnt her cookies last night by setting them at 3 minutes in the microwave instead of 30 seconds. Needless to say, I managed to stink the whole house on my first day back.

Some things just never change.

By the way, can you believe she said I lacked common sense??
How could she! My own mother!
Just because I scrubbed the potatoes by hands instead of using the green sponge. And spreading butter on those using a knife instead of using the brush thingy.
How should I know! Then Dad piped in saying I needed to learn or else I wouldn't be able to cope in the future. Which is why I must make enough money to hire a maid. Easy peasy.
Oh well. At least they sounded worried instead of insulting. That I can accept.
Maybe I should start worrying as well. On a second thought, let's save that for the future. I have other things to worry about.

Like trying to stay awake because I'm already sleepy right now. Slept at 2 am yesterday. Hmm.. what was I doing? Oh. Playing Warcraft. Then Mum had to wake me up at 7.42 am. Something concerning the tea set. I ignored her but my guilt prevented me from going back to sleep and so I set to the kitchen.

"Where's the tea set?"

"I washed them already."

Yeah, it was already on the dining table. Whoopy.

"I'll go back to sleep then."

As if. By 11.30 am, I still haven't taken my retainer off, brushed my teeth or washed my face. And I was still in my nightgown. Gross.

We had lunch at Gran's. She's the caterer of the day, lol. She even dropped by just now to send more food. Something tells me we'll be using the microwave a lot in the next few days. Stayed there until four something where I managed to stuff myself and took a short nap. I blame the bread. It was so soft!

Anyway, finished another book today. Then then then, it was my duty to clear the table. I was trying to figure out how to wash the dishes since there were a lot when Zahir came into the kitchen, rolled the sleeves of his dark purple baju Melayu (despite me going around the house announcing the theme of the day was RED), and offered to wash half of them.

Whoa. The world must had turned upside down.

"Why would you wanna do the dishes?"

"In life, we must give and take."

Give and take my foot. He only knows how to take. Give, apparently, has never registered in his dictionary. His biggest contribution whenever our maid's not around so far is throwing the garbage out once in 2 days. I wasn't going to say no though. So he did half of them while I completed my other chores.

Huhu. He's worst than Mum. And she's like the most immaculate person I've ever known. He took 30++ minutes just to wash 5 plates! I was tapping my fingers impatiently on the sink and trying to convince him to let me finish but he was all, "See, there's so much oil!".
Still, it was sweet of him to volunteer. Maybe he's not as spoiled as I thought. Maybe.

You know what's so unusual this time? Despite of my bro helping out, there wasn't so much tension in the air. Normally when my maid went back, everyone would be all tensed and twitchy because of the chores needed to be done. And normally, Zatyfaty and Zahir wouldn't even lift a finger. But this time, everyone helped out. Even Hani- she made Milo. It was a bit too sweet but nevermind that. Lol. It's only after dinner and already she went around asking about breakfast since my parents are working tomorrow. I thought she was supposed to be on a diet or something. A 7 year-old kid like her has only 4 things on her mind; food, channel 611-616, online games and animes. Soon she'll be starting on mangas. Who could blame her right?

So far, I'm enjoying this.

It's already way past midnight and I need to take a bath.
Toodles.

STUPID IDIOT MORON HIPPOPOTAMUS DUGONG KANCIL

I always told my friends, if I were to die, then the biggest possibility was me being hit by a car. Or anything that has to do with cars really. Because unfortunately, my senses don't include cars.

BLOODY KANCIL

There. And maybe I could blame Yazid as well while I'm at this. He was the one who drove anyway. The moment I arrived in Miri, and he already tried to kill me. Or in his words, "pulled a stunt so that I would never ever drive,". Yea, rite.


He was trying to catch the traffic light; it showed green. It was raining and he was speeding. Then a stupid bug of a Kancil suddenly appeared from the left, and it was speeding as well. AND the driver didn't even bother slowing down when he/ she saw an Unser coming. Seeing that, bro tried braking but that didn't work so he had to
swerve to the right, right into the next lane. 

The road was slippery.

And the car spinned 245 degrees.

Then he swerved the car back into the left lane, and it jerked as if something had hit it. But thank God nothing did and we were all still alive.

STUPID IDIOT MORON HIPPOPOTAMUS DUGONG KANCIL
That goes to its driver as well.

Not a word about that to Mum okay.

Oh. She's asking me to make Earl Grey tea for Dad.

So.

How do you make tea?

Read and WEEP people

MOVE TO MAKE SURE ALL DOCTORS HAVE REQUIRED SKILLS
By AUDREY EDWARDS


PUTRAJAYA: Newly-qualified doctors will have to undergo two years' compulsory housemanship from next year. Currently, they only have to do a year of housemanship.
Health Minister Datuk Seri Dr Chua Soi Lek, who announced the Cabinet decision yesterday, said the move was considered important to increase the knowledge, skills and experience of graduate medical officers.
“This will improve the quality of services and healthcare standards,” he said.
A rotation system of four months in six departments will be implemented. With the newest inclusion being the accident and emergency department, the rest are medical, paediatric, general surgery, orthopaedic, obstetrics and gynaecology.
“We have observed that in the past few years, about three to five per cent of graduate medical officers do not get full registration because they have weaknesses in knowledge or skills,” he told reporters before chairing his ministry’s post-Cabinet meeting.
“We cannot let this continue. We hope the move is seen as a positive one by future graduates and we are confident the rakyat (people) will support us.”
After the two-year housemanship, the doctors would have to serve their three years' compulsory service with the Government or its agencies, he said.
Dr Chua said the ministry would apply to the Government to place them under the U43 grade upon completing the two years' housemanship compared to the current U41. The U43 pay scale is RM500 more than U41.
He said the doctors would be able to pursue their specialist courses or Master’s after serving two years' compulsory service compared to the current situation whereby they can only apply to further their studies after three years.
About 1,200 local medical students graduate annually.
Dr Chua also announced the Cabinet’s decision to disallow the future setting up of private cord blood banks because while it was a new service with huge potential to treat specific diseases, there were still ethical issues to be scrutinised.
He said the existing centres would have to apply for a licence from the ministry within the next two months and would be registered under the Private Healthcare Facilities and Services Act 1998.





Let's see.... 2 years plus 3 years is.........


5 YEARS


My calculations were completely screwed.



Vi: Nisa, let's migrate.


Nisa: *nodded enthusiastically*





Why oh why?



Whatever.



Sleeping, or studying. Those are what I'm suppose to do right now. Instead, I'm blogging.
My last entry was 3 weeks ago. Huh. Didn't realise it was that long *liar liar pants on fire*
I kept signing in and out without knowing what to write. I'm too tired too figure out life nowadays. And I feel guilty when I go online. But now I'm too exhausted to care.

I hate Thursdays.

8 am - 5 pm. Bio, Math, Physics, Chem.

I like Fridays.

Only 2 hours of lab.

I guess, physics is important....ok,ok. I KNOW it's important.

ilikephysicsilikephysicsilikephysicsilikephysicsilikephysicsilikephysicsilikephysicsilikephysics

Mid-sem exams are in 2 weeks. After that, another month and a half to go and then....... NO MORE PHYSICS, YAY!

I like physics konon. Pfft.

I have nothing more to say.
How boring.
Tata.

First week

The smell of rain. It's raining. Again.

Class started last Monday. For some reason, I felt dread. And I found myself thinking, where's the excitement I usually had before the first day of school?
Ladening my brand new bagpack with books, my new pencilcase (every year without fail =P) and the insomnia I usually had on the night before school started. Where were those?
I realised with a pang, they didn't exist anymore. It's a feeling I wouldn't experience for a long time after this. And I miss it.

This one whole week felt like a month. It seemed long. The quietness in this house, instead of being comforting, feels eerie. Vi and I are the only people here. My other housemates wouldn't be back until next weekend. After 8 am-5 pm of classes for the day, walking into an empty room seems depressing. It's as if the four walls are crushing me. The quietness. The loneliness.

Dread. Depressed. Lonely.
Yup, that's about enough to sign me up for a mental institution.

Please support my petition to burn IMMS down

I can't believe it.

I failed the goddamn driving test.

Just kidding. I passed.
That's it. I passed. No juicy story behind it.
Oh who am I kidding. Of course there is one. Otherwise I wouldn't bother mentioning it here.

It started like this.........
I woke up at 7 am on Wednesday morning. Make that 7.10 am; I hit snooze once. Took a bath and got ready. Then I waited for my driving instructor to pick me up at 8 am.

8.09 am Switched on the tv.

8.17 am Still waiting.

8.32 am Still waiting.

8.42 am A honk sounded.

Anyways, I got onto the car. She was talking on the phone about an urgent matter. She mentioned the word URGENT. Like I cared. She's bloody late. That was until she turned to me and uttered these words: I thought your driving test was tomorrow. 24th is today. And now we're late. Sorry, it's my fault.
At that moment, I TRULY cared. My throat and lips went dry (actually, maybe it was because I was fasting). I started shaking (darn, I knew I should have put a sweater on).

" We'll try and ask whether we can postpone yours to tomorrow."

All those signs instantly subsided. Ok, so maybe they didn't have anything to do with fasting or the rain.

Less than 10 minutes away from IMMS,
" Do you have your flight ticket with you? We may need it to support our plead." She sounded like she's in court. No, of course I didn't have it with me. Who goes around carrying flight ticket in their bags? Not when the flight's still 4 days away. So we went back to my house to fetch it and headed to JPJ. She kept saying it's her fault which was good because a) she was the one who got the dates mixed up, not me and b) she's the one who was late. We met a certain En. Hairul and got my form re-printed. Turned out, my original form was cancelled because I didn't show up on time and I still had to take the test that day. But instead of number 22, I got the last turn.

Smooth. Real smooth.

By the time I waited at IMMS, I was one nervous wreck. I'd only went on that hill thingy for 3 times! And what if I'd forgotten the test roads? It's been 2 months for God's sake.
*Breathing exercise; breathe in deeply, and breathe out. Repeat 3 times.

Waited for a while. And then came my turn. Little hill, little kancil's coming. Little kancil started climbing the little hill. Then braked. Pulled the handbrake up, released brake- fuh. Then came the hard part. Recalled the steps; pulled handbrake up, hit gas, released clutch slowly until the car jerked and maintained, added more gas and pulled handbrake down. The car started going backwards.

Fuck.

I hit brake instantly. Both tyres were still in the yellow line. Ok, one more time. Step 1, step 2, step 3, step 4, step 5. Little kancil's started going down the little hill merrily. Succeeded. Then I accomplished parking the car and the 3-point turn. Easy.
Went inside and sat down. Clock showed 12.33 pm. Waited for the road test. 2 JPJ officers, 2 Kancil, 32 candidates. You do the math.

waitedwaitedwaitedwaitedwaited.

A woman actually brought her own cushion seat. Lol.


waitedwaitedwaitedwaitedwaitedwaitedwaited.


A black Satria arrived. Out came a woman and her daughter. The daughter's driving instructor approached them. The woman said, " Eh, we could do this inside. It's really hot here." to which the man gave her an amused look and deliberately tried to soothe her that it's not that hot. Well, yeah, it just stopped raining. Waving her hands at her daughter, she said, "Mesti jaga kulit. Panas, panas. Jom masuk dalam,"

So people like that really do exist. Wow.

Enough already about weird people.

waitedwaitedwaitedwaitedwaitedwaitedwaitedwaitedwaitedwaitedwaitedwaited.

Dad and Mum arrived at 4.30 pm to fetch me. The thing was, I still hadn't sat for the test. Dad offered to go through the road tests and I agreed. Big mistake. Big big mistake. He drove like how I would drive. 40 km/hour, signalled at every turn, stopped at every junction. When you're the passenger, it just made you impatient. And it made you told your dad that showing Road B was good enough and that you should return to IMMS for fear of missing your turn.

Yeah, I was bluffing. I knew there were still 6 others before me.

My dad stayed with me. By that, I really meant it. He stood next to me, talked to my driving instructor and her husband, gave advices, asked whether I could do it, gave some more advices. Suddenly I felt like I was sitting for SPM all over again. Only that he's not holding a KFC plastic bag. And I realised, it was small things like this that I would miss when I'm back in Shah Alam. Having your dad picking you up from school, asking for your parents' permissions before going out (not that I ever did that but this is just an example). Stuff like that.

Finally, at 5.59 pm, my turn came. That's ONE MINUTE TO SIX. Which meant I waited for approximately FIVE HOURS AND THIRTY MINUTES. Oh well, at least by this time there wouldn't be too many cars. That's what I thought.

That's what I thought.

"Pergi jalan B."

Thank God.

The sun bid goodbye and the moon came up. It was bloody dark making me hard to see the roads even with the headlights on (curses to our stingy government) and there were A LOT OF CARS. The traffic was horrendous. Damn, damn.

I think I did pretty well.

So now, I have my P license kept in my wallet along with my many many credit cards. Ahah! As if =P

Never will I go behind the driving wheels again.


Just kidding.

In Her Eyes

It was cloudy and chilly. The kind of weather you'd get after it'd just stopped raining. I sat outside on the plastic chair. The wind was blowing softly, the trees and grass were following it's rhythm. One of the perfect moments in life. I thought nothing could spoil it.

Until I saw her.

I was watching the leaves lying on the road. Brown, crisp, dead. Yet they're still so pretty. Someone was sweeping them. Collecting them in small piles and sweeping them into a dustpan. Then the wind would blow and the leaves would scatter all over again. Lying quietly on the road to be swept by the same person. I thought whoever assigned that task to her was a moron. Leaves grow and fall off trees. Every single day. No matter how you sweep them, they would always be there. Even so, watching her sweeping the leaves wrapped me with an odd sense of calmness. I could feel she liked doing it. That it's not merely a part of her job. It was like watching someone trying to pick up the remaining pieces of her life. One leaf to yet another leaf. It was like watching someone who made unintended mistakes in her life, and tried desperately to put it back together.

I saw her the day before. That day, I was sitting inside. And I saw her. She was going through the bin, collecting leftovers of people's lunch. She put them in a tiny see-through pink plastic bag. I only saw rice, nothing more. Would that end up being her lunch?

Another time, I saw her standing, staring outside the glass windows. She stood there for a long time. Until it made me wonder what could she possibly be watching, or thinking. I watched her emptied the dustbins, picking up any empty can she could find. Watched her cleared the dirty dishes away, watched her wiped the glass doors. I watched her cycled home, her much-prized cans tucked neatly away in the basket attached to the front of her bicycle. What could possibly, a person like her, wanted more out of her life? Were they the same as mine?

Reach for the remote control and you could see people suffering in other countries. Pick up the newspapers and read headlines on those who are being terrorised. We do both. We donate. We show our sympathies. And yet we could ignore those that are happening close to us.

It was only a woman. Dressed in an old faded-tshirt. A tracksuit that was 2 sizes too small for her. Rubber slippers. None of which I would be caught wearing even at home. But somehow, somehow, something about her touched me. Here's someone within my reach. Here's someone I could offer my hand to. Even so, I still couldn't pluck up the courage to do that. To buy her a decent meal instead of eating bin food. I didn't have the nerve to talk to her, to question her, to understand her view on life. Here's a woman who has to sacrifice her dignity, for a scrap of food.

A story of a woman who'd earned my respect.

Where Rainbow Ends

Yes! YES!

They finally got together!
By they, I meant Rosie Dunne and Alex Stewart.
By referring to them, I was talking about the characters in Where Rainbows End.
And of course, they don't really exist.
But I don't care because I was right.



That book was really trying my patience:

1. They've known each other since they're 5 years old and you knew instantly they're meant for each other. Not that they knew that.

2. They've had, not one, not two, not a couple BUT A ZILLION OF WRONG TURNS before realising that.

3. Page 489; wow, they're still NOT together. It's really annoying when you knew perfectly well they would in the end.

4. The last 3 and a quarter pages summed it all. There you go. A happy ending =)

Who cares if they're 50 years old?
Who cares if they're too stupid to realise it sooner?
It's one of the books which I would normally say, just get it over and get married already.
I know, I can be such a bitter person sometimes. If not all the time. Lol.
Still, kudos to Cecelia Ahern. It was fab.

Whenever Zatyfaty heard me sighed in my reading, she went, "They're still not married yet?"
Sighed again.
"They never will,"

I proved her wrong! Or at least, the author did. Because, they finally got together! Oh, I've mentioned that. This was just like the time before Harry Potter And the Deathly Hallows copies were released and I, like the rest of HP fans, was confident Harry wouldn't die, nor would any of his friends. That fact was enough to send terrors to millions of children around the world. I didn't think there were enough beds in the hospitals. Nor were there enough psychiatrists. And J.K Rowling wouldn't be that mean anyway. Me and my obsession of Harry Potter. I so need to GROW UP. But while we're on the subject...I totally, utterly and completely detest Daniel Radcliffe. Ok, so maybe not in real life. I hate the fact that he's playing Harry Potter. Harry Potter and Daniel Radcliffe are two completely different person. And he sucked in the movies anyway. Because the movies themselves sucked. So I love Harry Potter but not Daniel Radcliffe. And I need to stop rambling if I don't want his publicist to sue me for harrasing him. Which I already did.

Anyway, I'm knackered. I feel knackered. Gone were the days when I could just sit in my room doing nothing but read all day. Hello to the days where I'll have to spend my free times revising. So I make it my mission to read as many books as possible before those bitter moments arrive. And spending my Dad's money on them instead of mine. As if it's not his money I'm spending there. Haha.

Oh yeah, for those who haven't read the books, I really don't advise you guys to read this post and if they say, "Why didn't she type that at the beginning of the post??", then they're completely missing the point. I know, I'm evil xD

Wow..so NOT

It's the 5th day of Raya.

Raya's pretty much over for me really. Not for them apparently. It's so not. Because I'VE BEEN FORCED TO ATTEND EVERY SINGLE FAMILY GATHERING SINCE MORNING. Oh, pardon me. It's EVER SINCE THE FIRST DAY OF RAYA.
It's not that I hate spending time with my family, especially the ones on my mum's side. But if you've been doing that FOR 5 DAYS IN A ROW, you'll eventually get sick of them. The same old faces. At every single open house. It's enough to drive me crazy.

Ok, like today. When I found out they're holding a cousin's birthday party in Boulevard this afternoon, all I thought was, "Crap. How am I gonna get out of this." Oh, did I mention I was at a cousin's open house at that time? And the thought of meeting them again that afternoon practically killed me. Anyway, so I messaged my friends, trying to form a last-minute plan to hang out together. But something came up and it was cancelled.

Crap crap crap.

It's not like anyone forced me to go but...
People were bound to ask. And I didn't want my Mum to say, "Oh, she's at home. She didn't want to come." And trust me, that's what Mum would say even if she's my dear and only one mother.
?
That answer's so not cool. Not when Gran's there.
If she said, "She's out with her friends....," then that would sound like I couldn't attend. Not because I wouldn't. That could make a lot of difference.
It's all about REPUTATION.

Anyway, I couldn't get out of that birthday party. So I went. There're kids everywhere. Like 15 of them. One look at them and I instantly got a headache. Don't get me wrong. I like kids. I might adopt one or two when I'm all grown up. But not these kids.
Thank God I brought a book with me.
So there I was, in the middle of Sugar Bun, reading Sophie Kinsella's. I got a couple of amused questions, but.. sod off. Like I care. I wanted to read that book.
They are cousins I like. And they are cousins I don't. To those I don't, ha! Dad's always saying stuff like, we're a family bla bla bla.
We only share the same blood. It's unavoidable. Other than that, they're complete strangers. Big deal. That's it Dad. It's not complicated really.

It's Rayaaaaa

Hm.
Both Rina and Ct aren't gonna be in town for Raya.
Hm hm hm.

Waaaaa, there goes my best two buddies.

It's weird aite? It's like,

From city >> kampung >> kampung

I wouldn't know. I don't have one. Or any as a matter of fact.

Cheers.

But, you know, once I finally got over that...



OMG! It's finally Raya!!



P.S: You know what's soooo annoying? Arranging tiny pineapple tarts into a BIG JAR.
Bless those tarts. Happy Raya folks!

Her name was Toru II

That's Toru-the-second. Because she really was the second Toru.

Her fur, a mixture of white and grey. She was beautiful.

Even when she's all skin and bone, she was still beautiful.

Remember, the first time I saw her?

Mum just bought her from the pet shop.

She was in a box. 3 months old. She was so small, she would fit right into my palm.

I squealed in delight. Jumping up and down.

She was a baby and she looked so pretty.

That was 3 years ago.

She's been with me since she was still a baby. From a baby to a mother.

I was so proud of her.

I didn't know how long I sat in the garden last night.

Cuddling her and persuading her to eat.

I didn't know how long I sat there and cried.

The wind was strong. And it was cold.

I wanted, if it was her last night, then..

Let her enjoyed it. Let her felt at home.

Let her felt the grass. Let her felt the wind.

For one last time.

She laid still in my arms.

She didn't even have the energy to run about. Like she used to.

I never saw any of my rabbits being so thin before. Only too fat.

But last night, she was so thin.

Did she know she was dying?

I willed her to be strong. Only until the next morning. So Dad could bring her to the vet.

But as always, she didn't listen to me.

She never listened to me.

She was one of my rabbits who lived long enough.

For me to come to know and love.

I loved her as my own daughter.

And her death,

left me heartbroken.

4 am sahur + fireworks

I couldn't sleep. I had meant to post this entry for days but, you know, was too lazy. Hehe. So here goes:

My exams had ended and I was going home that afternoon. So my housemates decided to celebrate it by waking me up for sahur, knowing fully well I never woke up for sahur before. Okayyy...nevertheless, it was fun. And nice as well since all of them acted as if they're done with their exams too =)

+ This was the day before. See, they spoiled my sleep for 2 days +

+ Kak Ai yang poyo! +

+ I always wonder, how could anyone eat rice early in the morning? Hmm.. +


+ A gnome spitting fire =] +

+ Chances were, the bus wouldn't show up at 4 am +

+ Watch it! +


+ My wand was creating fire sparks! Ah, all those years of training! +

+ See, told you she's poyo +

Nearing six, we went up to our rooms to take a bath and perform Subuh prayer. All of us were drenched in sweat and er, kindda stinked as well. Haha. After that we hung out at the lounge. Some did their revisions, some watched tv, and some, like me watched tv + did her laundry in the laundry room. Then I had to leave to catch my flight.

Now, sleeping seems like a good idea.

Jack

Waking up this morning (afternoon should be it :P), I felt, at last, I was ready for Raya. The house looked as if it had been hit by a bomb a minute before. Things were all out of their places. Things to be dusted, to be polished, to be cleaned, to be put away etc.. the usual a-couple-of-days-before-raya scene. I felt completely right at home.

It also hit me with a realisation that within the next couple of days, Mum would be nagging at me to tidy up my room. Ah. Bother. What's the point really? People won't be coming to our house to visit my bedroom. Raya is suppose to be about mengeratkan silaturrahim and all those mushy stuff right? So the tidiness of my room shouldn't be an issue. Besides, no matter how I tidied it up, it always looked as if it's been hit by a continuous earthquake. An earthquake which, FYI, only affected my room and not the other parts of the house.





Anyway, I came across Jack today.
This, people,

is Jack. It's a puppet. It's also my little sister dearest companion. At least, it used to be. I remember, someone gave it to her on her very 1st birthday. I couldn't remember who. That was 6 years ago. For some reason, my sister favoured it the most. Clinging to it practically 24/7 a day, and like most kids, she wouldn't be able to sleep without it. Even when we went travelling, my mum would make sure Jack wasn't left behind. This went on for months and since Mum had troubles pulling those two apart, especially since Jack needed regular washing, she bought my sis another similar one. A Jack whose colours weren't faded. A Jack who didn't need patching up. Another Jack. A new Jack. But it was futile, because she didn't want that new Jack. She wanted her old Jack. So the new Jack was kept on my mum's sidetable, untouched.

All of us knew who Jack was. Sometimes, we'd steal or hide it from her. Just for the sake of watching her looking for it. Or trying to shake her out of that habit. It wasn't necessary though, because after a few years, she grew out of it. How? I do not know. She just grew out of it. She didn't throw Jack away, or give it away like most of the toys Jack's age. She kept it in her toy cabinet. As for the new Jack? I don't have the slightest idea concerning it's whereabout. She never took on another plushie after that.

Tonight, I found Jack again. When I showed it to her, she immediately took it and cuddled it to sleep. Just like she used to.

It was then I realised, that we've been going through the same experience over and over again in our lives. There are things we once LOVED and TREASURED. Things which left impacts on us. Things we couldn't possibly live without. Be it 10 days, or 10 months, or even 10 years, they were things we couldn't possibly replace. As time rolled by though, we grew out of them didn't we? But they would never be forgotten. Like Jack, being stashed in a drawer. And memories, stashed in our minds.
One fine day, we would come across those memories once more. One fine day, our past will eventually catch up on us.

But what if I didn't find Jack?

Letters .Words. Sentences.

Always regret the things you did do, never the things you didn't.

I always make it a point, a line of words as a reminder. I used to say, to not repeat it, the act of the past. That single sentence, the core from with it came from. The beginning.

But now I'm confused. Now I'm starting to question. Everything has crumbled. Only to reveal the shoulds. And the shouldn'ts. The dos and don'ts. The what ifs and if onlys.

Is that the truth? Should I learn from now on, to accept it as a part of my life? The part that I once saw as myself. Start seeing. Start hearing. And stop dreaming.

I don't want to. I wouldn't.
I want to live that dream.
...yet I don't know how.
Where should I start?
What should I do?

It's a jigsaw puzzle lying on the floor. Pieces all over the place.
I couldn't solve it.

R for Ramadhan, R for Raya

With the arrival of Ramadhan, I feel a sense of calmness. A calmness which, no matter how havoc life seems to be, would never go away. And with that, I give my thanks to God. Of course, there's also the fact that after Ramadhan, it's Raya =P
Saturday. Bliss. 1 quiz, 2 exams and a presentation are over. Huh. And next week, I have 2 more tests. Yikes. Since this semester is almost ending (approximately 2 weeks left before finals, YAY), the lecturers are rushing to finish the syllabus and tests and quizzes. Which is why my days are packed with those.

Ramadhan here seems different. It is different. I try not to think how the atmosphere usually is at home during the breaking of fast. Food, food and food. A maid serving. The whole family eating together almost everyday. A rare sight. Okay, I'm thinking about it now. Here, I've to buy and find my own food. And since I'm fasting, I become more picky when it comes to food.

Limited space -> Limited food intake

Get it? Lol. So food selection must be done with extra precise and care. Hehe.

It doesn't seem long since the last Ramadhan. It was only last year. No, it's not even a year. Come to think of it, we've been going through Ramadhan every year. And yet with each year, it becomes even more special, even more meaningful. I remember during my childhood, fasting because my parents asked me to. And I would sneak into the kitchen, open the fridge and take a sip of drink xD But now, there's more to this month than eating and drinking. I mean, think logically. An early breakfast, a skipped lunch and dinner, right? So there's no fuss really with all the hunger and thirst. What important is, to control your thoughts, actions and words. It's not easy, but it's achievable. And I'm trying. Being a better person, changing along with the flowing days, because..well, because it's a normal process. That's that.

I hate to think that after this, I've to complete my Malaysian Studies assignment. If I knew, I would have choosen another topic. Haih.

Drizzle

Zaza said I was 'warak' *eyebrows arched*- the highest level as a Muslim, according to her. So I asked, what did religion mean to her. She paused for a while before answering, religion's just something to believe in. I fell silence. Islam isn't just something to believe in. Religion isn't something just to believe in. It's ad din; the way of life. Preach what we're taught. That's what differentiates us from the others. Otherwise, A Buddhist could be a Christian. A Christian could be a Muslim. In the end, they're just names. I don't think a lot of people would agree to that.
It's raining again. It's been raining everynight lately. Sometimes, I couldn't help but think. Couldn't help but wonder. Couldn't help but ask. Up to now, I'm still doing all those. It's hard when questions are asked. I don't know what to answer. They wouldn't believe me anyway. Nobody ever did. But well, everyone's different right? And right now, smiling is a lot easier than answering. Being secretive, isn't who I want to be. Here, I'm starting new. Fresh as a leaf, crisp as a chip. I don't have the answer to everything, much as I want to. The past, the present, the future. They're all equally important. Without one of those, I'd fall. And if that happens, I'm not sure I could get up once more. I'm not sure I would want to.
Sometimes I wish, I could lie down under a big tree. Without having these thoughts in me. Yet sometimes I wish, I could let it all out. For once and for all, and never look back. I intended to do that. People made it look so easy. But it's not. I still do. But what's there in the past?
I try not to question myself anymore. I have to believe in everything I do. Even if the path's there, I wouldn't want to go back. I wouldn't want to choose something else. I wouldn't want everything to be different. Everything's fine the way it is. Only, am I fine with it? Doesn't matter. As long as I can still laugh. As long as I can still smile. As long as I can still hope. Fear of hopes being crushed. Fear in believing. Those were in the past. They might come true, they might not. It could rain everyday for all I care. Because you know what? I know the sun will be there tomorrow. Always.

Afar

Sometimes I wonder. When I looked out of the window, and saw people milling around. Just how different we are? What hurt me may not hurt them. How does sensitivity work? I don't know.
I spend all day with Rina today. We were searching for, ehem, 'the bag' which remains non-existent so far. Who cares >_< I was just glad we're able to hang out. Like how we used to. Back in Miri, back in Labuan. Someone who's almost like family. I spend last night at Roy's. Then we got lost trying to find my aunt's house =P
The cold nights in matriculation. Haha. It's funny thinking about those now. Cold nights. We're going to experience that wherever we go. Just have to deal with them. Well, we managed to get through those didn't we? Hm, you know what I miss the most about Labuan? My pink water ladle! It used to be so cute. Lol.

One thing after another

I never thought of this before but come to think of it, I never mentioned this blog to anyone anymore. Not to my new friends. Not during NS, not during matriculation, definitely not while I'm in KUTPM. I don't even know why. Just because. There's no reason to expose yourself further to the world. There shouldn't be any. To me, the only thing that matters, is knowing. How things happened, how much you've changed. Realising how immature you once were, and who you are now. Self-realisation.
I'm drained. Classes started at 8 am and ended at 4.30 pm. Spend the whole day in Annex. Today, I went back to my room on purpose to use the toilet. Ha! Didn't want last week's incident to happen again. I drank plenty of PLAIN WATER that day. It was raining heavily and the class was air-conditioned. Add all those, it could only mean one thing; I needed to pee, badly. I did survey the toilet there, twice but I couldn't bring myself to use it. God knows how picky I am. The next gap of class was at 2 pm-the clock showed 1.40 pm. There's no way I could wait for another 20 minutes. Asking the lecturer to excuse me so I could pee was a definite no. There was no way out ( I love exaggerating don't I?), so I stood up, umbrella in hand and blatantly walked past the lecturer who was, at that time, was still lecturing. The fact that he was standing in front of the door didn't help. That was rude, yea, but I was out of options. I braced the 15 minutes walk to my room and walah, mission accomplished.
Okay, I'm tired. Sleep sleep.

Golden Chiffon

Orientation week had ended last Saturday. It was..well, it sucked a little as how orientation should be. All those briefings, bleh. And that birthday gimmick on Friday, haha. I was scared to death, thanks to the fcs who actually yelled at us. Turned out the whole thing was a gimmick. I would have been pleasantly suprised had I not knew it earlier; they did the same gimmick in NS. Jauh perjalanan, luas pemandangan. Lol. But it was still nice of them.
Currently I have 2 roommates and 5 housemates. Now, I have 6 kakak where as before this I had none. The others are all 20 years old. Besides me and Aisyah that is. We're both 18 (at last I can say that! =P) I never thought I would say this but but but..too much air-condition sucks- our place is 24/7 air-conditioned. I never felt more dehydrated in my life. Be careful of what you wish for. Haha. Nevermind that.
I'm only taking 3 subjects since it's a short semester. Islamic Studies *groan* ,Malaysian Studies *double groan* and Health Science. In other words, it's an easy semester. At least final exams are before Hari Raya. Yay!
I've met Effa! Yayyyyy. Couldn't believe meeting her here. It's like another scene from Miri.

My first day of being 18. The birthday celebrations, the birthday songs, the birthday wishes. Even so, it was the loneliest birthday I've ever had. Smiling smiles and faking excitement I didn't feel when my housemates "suprised" me with a birthday cake. Listening to Ctah's and Lala's shrill voices singing a birthday song on the phone. Listening to my Dad's own version of Birthday Song. I longed to be at home. To have my usual birthday dinner, and cake, and presents and being the Queen of the house for the day. I longed to celebrate it with my family. None others. I wanted to wake up, knowing the moment I stepped out of my room Dad would shower me with hugs and kisses as if I was a 7-year old. I wanted all those.
Last time, I would rack my brain trying to think of what I wanted for my birthday present. Yesterday, all I thought was how hard it was to be 18. From 17 to 18. That one year period. It was long. It was rocky. It was not beautiful. Nevertheless, I'm here. I still have a long journey ahead of me. And I want to go through it. Not because I need to, but because I want to. I want to walk that path even if it's difficult. I never wanted anything so badly in my life. I want this.

One Art

The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster,

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three beloved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.

-- Even losing you (the joking voice,a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) a disaster.

Elizabeth Bishop (1911-1979)

Reflection

Imagine everyone; your parents' friends, your family, watching you grow up. Every single step you take is noted. Every single flaw. It's as if you're on a stage, and you have an audience in front of you. You can't afford to make mistakes. You can't afford to screw up. Everything has to be perfect. And perfection becomes a part of you because that's what you grew up with. You need the praises, you need the attention. You need people to tell you you've done well, after everything you've tried to accomplish.

Maybe now, I'm beginning to understand.

Let the wind blows

Do you really care or were you just pretending all this while?

That's the question I feel like spitting at her.
But I didn't.
It's easier to avoid eye contact and limit my acquaintance.

How could anyone do that? No, not wondering. More like furiously yelling.

My heart refused to believe it. That was then. Now my mind tells me otherwise.
Just thinking that, knowing the chances are there stabs me in the heart.
To think I've been finding excuses for her. To think I've been defending her.
Now I just feel dirty. Now I just feel used.
There's always a loophole. That's what I believed on the first time.
Any human could make mistakes. But to ignore on the second time.
When the proof is dancing naked in front of me.
That would make me a downright fool.
I would have given anything to prove it wrong. That it's just one ugly mistake.
But it's not. It never was. That's what's so disappointing.

Ctah taught me it's not how long you know someone that matters, it's how well you know them. You could never know someone well enough, no matter how long. Not 18 years. Not 50 years. Not even a whole lifetime. Every part of me wants to feel angry. But all I feel, is hurt. And all I have are bitter tears. Pathetic.
Knowing now the smiles and the warmth are fake. She's one hell of an actress, that I can give her. Haha. Now I don't know who to trust. I suck when it comes to judging people. Big time. It's time to tread carefully.

Even now, they refuse to do anything. Letting bygones be bygones. Acting as if it never happened.

I didn't understand why.

But now, I think I do.

It's called sacrifices.

Beyond The Whites

The first day of August. The eighth month into the year of 2007. Finally it's here. A year since the 1st of August 2006. I wonder what happened back then. Or the year before that. I couldn't remember. Our lives are pieces of dreams sewn together. There are dreams we remember. There are dreams we don't. Dreams which could keep us up the whole night. Or dreams we don't even know we had.
They say dreams are parts of our subconcious minds. The secrets which dwell within ourselves. Secrets we don't even know exist. The opposite of reality. What happened in dreams normally don't occur in real life. Well, that's why they're called dreams aren't they?
Somewhere between the fake and fact. Fantasies which reflect reality. Reachable but merely. It doesn't matter. In the end they remain what they are. Just dreams. They're not real. No matter how much we yearn them to be. They're just not real. Believe that.
But... dreams give us hopes don't they? A tiny flicker of hope. When you're left with nothing, and you have your dreams with you. And they make what unreachable seems...reachable. They make life's cruel games seem less cruel. Those are what dreams potray. Even if they're fake, they are all we have. They are all I have.
August is, has always been, magical to me. Maybe I've watched too many disney cartoons and movies, and oh, there's harry potter and Diana Wynne Jones's fiction stories, and the fairytales books, and Wicca. And a lot more. But August is magical. In glitters and in stars. The fact that it's not exactly the middle month, and not quite the end of the year. And for Malaysians we're guaranteed one day of holiday at the end of the month, which is a bonus point except for all the lame celebrations and having to pretend just how patriotic we are. No pun intended. But hey, one blank day stretches ahead of me? Count me in. Flag waving or no flag waving.
Nah, not because of all those. It's just nice seeing people happy. Even if it's just for a day. Even if it's just for a smile.
God, this peanut butter AND strawberry sandwhich totally ruined my dinner. Now I've to make a new one. Peanut butter doesn't go with strawberry. Sheesh. Where's the banana?
Tata :)

Teared Silk

Hearing a bird chirped, I looked up. There it was. Black and white. I watched it for a while before it took off.

I recognised that bird. The same voice, the same colour, the same position. Amazed. Yes, I was amazed. Even after all these while, it's still there. But then, I couldn't be sure whether that was the exact bird. The one who was there while I was weeding. Or when I sat at the patio for ages, gazing upon the sky. It could easily be a similar one. I'm not a bird-watcher, I wouldn't know. All birds look the same to me.

Some things remain don't they? Untouched by the passing time. Yet some things don't. Changes occur without our agreement. Whether we like it or not, whether we're willing to or not. It's unavoidable. A whole lifetime process. Life changes and we're changing along with it. Adapting to different situations, protecting ourselves subconciously. Certain people look upon it as a kind of merit. Accept it as a part of you, and learn to deal with the 'new' you. Yet some people see it as a flaw. Reluctant to cope with it and move on.

Being back here, it reminds me of how things once were. It seems as if everything is untouched. Still the same as how I'd left them. Even though to the eyes, everything is different. I'm not talking about someone changing the cover of my pillow hug with the exact one and denied it when I pointed it out- as if I wouldn't notice it. It was like when my brother sprayed me with a strong scented perfume on purpose and the scent wouldn't go off no matter how hard I scrub. It happened, it has passed. But it's still there. The smell still lingers. And you suffocate, trying to hold your breathe as long as you could trying not to notice it.

There were moments when I asked myself what I was doing here. I should be out there, back to how I used to be. Tensed, all stressed up, finishing my assignments as how my friends are. Anything. What I shouldn't be doing, is being at home, taking a break, typing this post.
Mistake number one.
I have always been impatient. I have always rushed about. Maybe for this once I need to slow down. Not necessarily halt, but slow down. Finish that 2-hour movie instead of watching it in 30 minutes flat. Drink that one can of Coke instead of taking only a few sips before throwing it in the bin.

Up to this point, should I say I have regrets? Or would anyone believe me if I said I didn't have any? Because truthfully, I don't. Regretting means caring. Regretting means admitting my own mistakes. I do realised those. My mistakes. But they were mistakes which were meant to be. From your mistakes, you learn. I couldn't even say I wouldn't repeat them, because I know I will. I'm one foolish human *applaude* Somewhere in the future, I'll do them again. Everything will replay itself once more. In order to be forgiven, you must make sins. In order to realise, you must do something regretful enough. Only then they're worth it.

Standing at the brink of life. Stabbed by unexpected moments. I've been there. I don't have to dig deep into my past and look far to recall them. I don't need regrets and fears to ensure me of my journey. Just remembering those tells me, I don't want to experience it again. I don't want to go back there and feel those once more. In one step backward that's accidentally taken, I need to move 3 steps forward.
Funny.
I would never learned how random life is. I wouldn't be able to see how things aren't always as I want them to be. But hey, maybe it's not too bad aite?
Being strong in some ways yet fragile and vulnerable in others.

dumplings and pau

Some thought I left because I couldn't stand it there, which was partly true. But not entirely. Some thought I left because Rina had left, which was pure bullshit. What people had in their minds, I couldn't be bothered to correct their perceptions. I don't have to explain myself to the world, much less to them. What's important, is that I know where I'm heading towards. What's important, is that my family and friends fully support me in taking the next step.

KUTPM. A scholarship to do foundation in Medical Science.

Thanks to Effa, the whole world has probably know this by now :P
That was the real reason I left. That was what I couldn't bother to explain. Even so, like every other time, I couldn't help wondering whether I'd taken the right step. Whether this road, was the road I wanted to go on. And where it would lead me to. I couldn't help feeling scared that I might not be able to meet up to people's expectations. Scared that I might let my parents down again. Scared that I might not have the capabilities after all. There was a point when I almost gave up. There was a point when I felt so worthless. That maybe, I didn't deserve to live. That was the mistake I almost made. Giving up on life, when it's the only precious thing I still had. I forgot life was a gift itself.
I've fallen a couple of times this year alone. Each fall hurt. Each fall diminished everything I'd believed in. Each fall convinced me living was futile. Up to the point where I felt I couldn't get up anymore. I couldn't muster the courage to fight because each time, I kept losing. Maybe, everything was destined to be. That was the moment when I didn't know myself at all. Who was I? The words I'd spoken sounded like they were someone else's. My determination, my stubborness. The light of the candle had been snuffed out. Everything wasn't there anymore. Not knowing who you were, that's what so hard.
But then dad told me if I wanted to give up, then I should have done that a long time ago. Before I chose this path, before I went through the hardships. It wasn't easy for me to figure out what I wanted out of life, and when I did, I shouldn't let it go. That was the choice I made, and I should hold on to it no matter what. Dad was right. There's no turning back now.
The truth is, I'm scared of growing up. It's painful. I'm scared of having to leave home and live alone. I'm scared without my parents with me. Deep down, I'm still a child.
All those- my fears, screw them. A life live in fears is a half-life. After all, I'm not alone in being alone aren't I? All of us are learning to be alone so we'll never be lonely. I'm through with playing safe. I'm sick of worrying. From now on, I'm going to live.


I find the great thing in this world is, not so much where we stand, as in what direction we are moving.
(Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe, 1749-1832)