Waha.

Okay, fine, I'm a little lazy to find an appropriate title.


First off, I just want to say here that I'm a little excited + scared + anxious + every other feelings combined about the upcoming semester. But I'm sure it'll all be just fine.

I had a revelation. You know. I don't even know what that means. Haha. But seriously, I've been thinking since one of my cousins got married. I thought.. "Okay, in a few years, everyone's going to get married EVENTUALLY... and then it'd be my turn... Gulp!" Scary. That's what marriage is to me. Plain scary. How do  you know that you're going to marry someone who's going to be there for you till the end of your life? I don't know. So don't ask me.

And ever since my 'change', I learned a lot of things.

One, people can say really negative things. Like, girls who wear longer hijabs can go around and do bad things themselves..... I took a moment to swallow that. What does that mean? It means some people can have a very negative outlook on something and sometimes you just can't buy them. Yet.


Two, before or after my change, my friends still say I'm quiet. Haven't I been quiet all these years? Maybe. To my room mates however, my 'quietness' may depend on many variables.

Y'know, the other day I was at Nilai 3 for my mother wanted to look at some fabrics, and I sat in the car with my father and little brother because I was a little fatigued. My sleeping patterns had been off for over a month then and I haven't quite yet fixed it, even now. And I saw something after closing my eyes for a few minutes; a woman and her daughter passing by, and they covered a portion of their face. (Gosh, I can't remember the name of that thing...)

There. But the girl was wearing glasses, so that's why I fell in love. I can see myself like that. The problem is, in the country, we are not encouraged to wear it. Why? I always wondered. What's so wrong about it? Even with a long hijab, I've had someone tell me, "You won't be in a workplace where everyone's going to wear like you do, you know that, right?" I took a deep breath then. I couldn't believe what I heard.

You know what's worst? I actually hesitated. I don't do hesitation very well. Because I've always done things because I know they are/were/will be the right thing to do. I thought to myself, "I should worry about work later on? How about the fact that Our Creator is not pleased with me now? Nobody is worried about that for me." I guess it's true what people tell me, "Satan is not going to sit still." I will say this right here and right now, go on Satan. Inject hesitation and doubt in myself -- because I believe in His guidance. He's not going to leave me by myself while I drown, and I admit it, I'm still choking violently. I feel suffocation every other day, and it's not nice, I tell you. But it's worth the suffocation. The mood swings, the pain I hold inside in order to find something better.

Sometimes I am happy. Yes, I CAN be happy, don't give me that look. *facepalm* I'm not always a grumpy old man, I can be happy and giddy. It just depends on the situation. Lately, I've found serenity and peace in a whole different feeling. It's really, really nice.

So in my change, people will go, some may stay. The ones who go, and think I'm changing, please see that I'm not changing. I can't be. It hasn't even been two months, how could I possibly change in such a short amount of time? That's ridiculous. Give me time, and I'll show you that I'm still the same person as I was before. But sometimes I think, I don't deserve time from anyone. How could I? Who am I? I'm only someone who lacks in every single way, but I believe in time, that I can find myself once more, and be content with myself once and for all. Please believe me. But if you don't believe me anyway, it won't sadden me. Because I believe in myself now, and that alone has kept me going for this long.

And it took me long to get here because I know society. I know what I'll get myself into. That's why I took so long -- I thought about changing for over two years, but I couldn't execute it until I'm convinced in which way I would like to change. Once I make up my mind, then I'm good to go. Because I'm that kind of person. It's hard for me to start, but once I know what I'm doing, it becomes hard for me to stop.


Look... I already forgot what I was going on about. Wha? Yes, I know.


I think... I don't want to say anyone is right, or wrong, in saying anything to me. You can say anything to me, because it's partly my job to interpret what you say into some way so that I can understand. And I'm not mad, nor disappointed. I'm just grateful that some people are willing to be honest about what they feel about what I'm 'doing' (would it be considered doing if it's connected to wearing?) I just feel that sometimes, it's because of things like this (saying less appropriate things to other people) that makes them not want to do what they originally wanted to do. We should respect each other's opinion, but please, say I'm wrong when I am. I didn't say that I don't want to hear that I'm wrong. I'm still learning, but don't judge too hard, because it is very, very, VERY confusing. Take it from me because I've been there back and forth. I've had self-dialogues and I had to think very hard, rationally, sometimes emotionally. But I'm aware that we're not supposed to follow our emotions, because we are granted something, called the mind, to help us think.


Wallahualam.

Life is like a subjective question apart from those that are clear of their objectiveness.-

Something?

I had a phone call yesterday, stating that I am to pick up my new glasses whenever I am free.
That kept me hanging on for hours.


As of yesterday, I FINALLY (yes!) finished typing out for my father. It was heart-wrenching and boring, for the most part, and I came to realize it is that of these tasks that I am equipped with the basics. So thank you, my father and mother~


I think I had only a post for April?
I was going to write more, and I've had ideas swimming in the back of my head, just tickling to get onto a soft copy. That didn't make sense, did it now?

Well, I question the fact that if I ever made sense throughout my existence.
Ever since I saw my Twilight Saga Books got torn up right in front of my eyes, and I had to contribute to some of it, my heart started beating unusually. I know, because one of the two things I do frequently on a daily basis is listen to my own heartbeat. Literally, and metaphorically.

It wasn't nice, but it was a relief of some sort. I can't give it up completely.
But thinking of the painful memories it brought -- I get caught in a twist between two distinct feelings.
Wanting to let go, and unable to let go.

This is to you.

She had felt something troubling her heart for quite a while, but she never seemed to pinpoint on what it is. And that day it finally came true. Anguish washed over her feature, she took his hand with hers as usual, and came aboard the bus. They sat in a position as always, and she could feel her heart doubled in terms of beating.


I guess you could say she had always been this way. Always paranoid, always overthinking. But one can only guess what would happen on that fateful day.
It wasn't that she didn't want him with her, it was the exact opposite. Wasn't the fact that she didn't want to be on the bus heading back to her home -- it was something else.


As they arrived at the bus terminal, a tear dropped down from her left eye. She didn't want it to be this way. She hadn't planned on getting this far. Whatever happened before -- it broke her completely. He seemed to know all of this, but he hadn't had the strength to stop himself. But why didn't he? A question that flashed through her head millions of times.


Everyone saw it, but they didn't want to be a part of it. The anguish grew, and with every line engraved under her eyes, they avoided her. She is sure to be a trouble, they whispered. With her head down, he didn't follow behind her as always. She kept going forward and forward, avoiding all glances as the glances avoided her. He fell on his knees and choked up blood. Feeling helpless, he passed out in the midst of a crowd, with her losing sight. It didn't help that she couldn't see. The anguish finally found its peak, and he cried loudly for her; trying to hold himself by hugging his knees tightly to his chest. One may wonder why no one helped him -- it was because he wasn't there. Not for real, that is.


The girl with soft blue eyes finally turned back, dropped all her belongings, and ran to the place where she had lost him in the first place. She knew this was going to happen -- but what did happen? He had died so many years ago, yet everytime she came to the same place, she sensed him. He was begging for her. No, she had begged him, but he gave no response. With bloodshot eyes, he pulled the trigger to his head right in front of her eyes on the fateful day. And that fateful day replayed itself like a broken record, taunting her. Why didn't she stop him? Because she couldn't. She wouldn't. Because stopping him would be like telling him to live with his and her misery for the rest of his sick life. And she couldn't have that even though she suffered the most damages.


Dropping to her knees, she held her hands to her head and cried bitterly, as loud as the sound drowned out with the crowd chattering away. It was like she wasn't even there, but was she?

Only she knew.

But..!

When I was small (not in size), I used to question a lot of things. Not that I grew out of it. I just stopped being so silly in questioning. But below the age of 13, I had a lot of questions that I wanted answers to.

Like;

"How people be so confident in one another that they decide to get married and live with each other?"


"Why do men like women? HOW do men know they're supposed to like women? What'd happen if women like women?"

Take note that I wasn't aware of homosexuality at the time, so I just didn't know. I wanted to ask, but there was a part of me, that settled in deep, deep inside of me that said, "Nobody's going to answer your questions." And I believed that part of me. So, I once had believed in me. The subjective me. The fact that I refer to myself in the third person doesn't really mean that's changed, it's just that I see myself better when seeing myself as another person other than myself. If I were to explain in details, it'd take ages.

Back to the topic, I liked using the word 'but'.

I'll give an example;


I didn't understand why I couldn't use silverware (if that's the right word? I'm meaning, forks, spoons, such and such...) using my left hand. I could obey to the fact that I'm supposed to eat when not using silverware using my right hand, because, well, for one, the left hand is correlated with the washing of, uhm, you know what.
And my Mathematics teacher, Ms Van Driesen (Ms. D, sorry I don't know the correct spelling of your name) told my class a tale of why the right angled triangle is called a right angled triangle instead of a left angled triangle. You know, the one with the 90 degree angle symbolized with the shape of a square at the corner of the triangle. Bah. Let me just get you the picture.

My teacher explained that in the old days, they believed the left-handers (and probably just about anything to do with with left) are not a good thing, so they named it right angled instead of left angled. And the fact that the triangle is always almost drawn with the square on the right side. Apart from me, of course, I sometimes did it on the left. I mirrored it just to spite it.
You know, I had bad experience with my being left-handed. My mother used to scold me for using my left hand to write, draw, such and such... But I stuck it out. Sometimes I praise, sometimes I don't. To be honest, most of the time I spite it. I spite my hand. Yeah, the truth is stranger than fiction indeed. Me spiting being scolded still ended up in me hating on something I've been believing in. The ground I thought was real. But it was. I'm beginning to think I'm going out of topic...


That's how it was.


I questioned it. I got mad. I got furious. I flipped. I thought it all nonsense. But it was because no one was willing to provide me with the answer that not I want, but the answer that I need to believe.

I told the following to my room mate, Dianah, and she simply said these words,

"I heard there are bad consequences of using the left hand while eating."


And right there, I considered it all. See. All it takes is a simple question atop my question. Though don't do it most of the time. I'd probably just get more rebellious than I already am.


The point is, when you're trying to feed someone information, you don't scold them. You don't hit them. You DON'T force them to inhale the information. You do it nicely. In such gesture than the person will be able to accept it.


I read this article upon which the Prophet Muhammad (Peace be upon him) himself was encountered by this matter, though probably not in the manner. If you get the difference.

A young man came to the Prophet Muhammad, Rasulullah and wanted to repent and leave everything except for the sin of zina. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zina Here is the following link if you want to find out about it.

His statement received great criticism from the Sahaba' but Rasulullah is not one to judge the young man quickly. Instead of scolding him, the Prophet took the approach of conversing in a polite manner with the young man.


Rasulullah asked, "Would you like this to happen to your mother?"


The young man shook his head and said to Rasulullah, "By Allah's name, I do not wish so! Let Allah be my witness."


Rasulullah asked again, "Would you like this to happen to your daughter?"


Again the young man said the same thing. The Prophet Muhammad (Peace be upon him) proceeded with asking about his aunt, his nieces and his sisters, if the man wanted the same thing to happen to them. Still the man said the same thing.


Rasulullah took the young man by the hand and asked Allah to forgive his sins and to clean him from wrong doings. There, at the point, the young man finally repented for his sin of zina.


Firstly, I do not recall the story correctly, so do not believe my words one on one, but it is what I read and the story is true. Just the way of how the story is told I put in a different way, a way I think is suitable.

I leave the moral of the story for you to find out and to apply in your life.

Don't use anger to make someone else understand anything. It never works. Trust me.


Assalam.

Ad-din.

I find it funny that I forget my password EVERYTIME I want to get on my blog. And I mean everytime. Like I have to reset my password. I have done that for like, I don't know, more than my fingers can count and my brain can remember.

Okay. I'm going to remember this password.

Anyway, hello people. I read my last post (as always) and I was talking about my Grammar test. As of now, I am officially done with my finals since 28th of March and yesterday was my first day on my two months semester break. So I may or may not be posting frequently.

I'm trying to figure where I should start with my post. Yes, I haven't started yet. I think.

Ketegasan insan bergelar puteri @ wanita

"Wahai puteriku, demi Allah

Jangan engkau percaya terhadap kata-kata

SEBAHAGIAN lelaki

Bahawa mereka memandangmu kerana

AKHLAK & ADAB

Bicara denganmu seperti SAHABAT

Dan apabila bercinta denganmu seperti teman akrab

Sebenarnya mereka BOHONG!!

Jika engkau mendengar sendiri bualan mereka

Pasti engkau takut & ngeri

Hanya ditanganmu pintu segala kebaikan

Bukan di tangan kaum lelaki"

~Ali Thantawi~

First thing's first, I've decided to be on hijrah to be a better me. Above's a song that's getting very addictive to me. Kudos to my room mate that gave me it. My hijrah is not going to be easy, I know; but it's never easy to do good, never hard to do bad.

I just want to say this right here, but my life in UiTM has changed the way I perceive the way I see and think about a lot of things. There are a lot of things that I actually don't that I want to know about. There are a lot of things that I would like to do a research on.

My story;

Yesterday I went out with my family to the Giaint Supermarket to buy some necessary things for the household and for us (my older brother, my sister and myself) to eat. And as I have been telling myself, I'm going to try to wear long hijab starting from home, from me going to markets and stuff, because I made up my mind about wanting to wear it for the next semester. It was nerve-wrecking at first trying to wear it but I went through it with the help of Allah. My sister said it suited me. My mother raised her eyebrow and my father didn't say anything at all about it. Which I had thought was weird, since he always have something to say. I took that from him. Sometimes that's bad. But as I have taken the first step, now it's just time for the rests of my steps to Allah Subhanahu Wa Taala.


Just hope that I keep istiqamah until..... Until, well, until forever. Keep me in your prayers please.

Strange to see that...

I'm posting through the university's lab. Haha. How long since my last post? I don't quite remember.

I shouldn't be here - well, I should, just not doing this. I was a few moments ago doing my account assignment which is now left at a table with nobody there. I don't know if anyone would want to steal my spectacles. Lol.


Well, I'm finally one semester! Woo! I'm excited upon finishing but my stomach doesn't feel so good. In fact, I don't quite remember the last time I ever felt good about anything on myself.

Earlier today I had a Grammar test.... which should've been less troublesome if the lecturer didn't come around to me, read my paper and said I did a mistake that was... small. To be honest, I was a little pissed off. But her intention was good, I know, but I was like, "I don't know what you're looking at! D:" Then in the end, she said I got my prepositions wrong and I was totally lost. Preposition, apart from my vocab, has always been my biggest flaw. I hate it. I don't know. Maybe I just went into too much of emotional trauma to feel good the next day. Oh well. Let's hope the next gets better. For instance, tomorrow is my induction and dinner day. Sounds a bit off, but who cares again?

Um... I miss home but I don't. It's strange. I just don't want to go back home, but I just really want to.

Well.... my sleepiness is growing by the second and it's almost time for me to go back to my room.

Adios.

Tellmegoodbye.

For these past few months, I have been diligently (mhm) checking my statistics for posts and my audience. I think it's safe to say that I'm quite surprised that my audience is of a wide range. Why thank you.

I felt suffocation yesterday.
Between deciding whether or not I should succumb to it, I found myself lost deep in thought.


Anyway, to start off, good day to you.
I learned as of lately that patience is not just a virtue, and you can't particularly achieve it through practice. It's through hard work and tolerance of the waiting part. And waiting for people is of a different thing, because you can, or not, get mad at them. But when you wait for some thing to happen, who are you supposed to get mad at? You're not supposed to. You're the one waiting. So why get angry at anything? It's serene waiting for something to happen. I have been waiting for what I have believed all these years to happen in front of my eyes, but maybe it'll happen to me instead, a bonus. Maybe I'll go to finding it within myself. Maybe it's near me and I have to decode it. God knows.


And of my consistently similar dreams of death, zombies and dying in particular, I seriously don't know what to make of it. It's gone for now, but I reckon if it comes back, I'll be able to face it full with my heart. The only decent dream that I remember lately was of my being in a forest of some sort and got turned into my younger self. I've been too tired lately to have a dream that I'd remember. Usually it's the passing out and being too tired to fall asleep that occupies my mind. Right before I fall asleep, that is.

A foreigner asked me and my sister. Something about 'bintang', I guess he was trying to say that. All I heard was 'the time' and I worked my brain and it processed as 'bintang'. He wanted to know which platform to Bukit Bintang. Hahaha. So hilarious. We showed him the way. It was on the monorail, by the way, in the city centre. I was out to watch a movie and just to get some air. My sister pointed out the fact that he looked familiar. I thought it was because he had a familiar face and he was probably German. Australian accent would be more confusing -- accents have never been my forte. I was brought up with no particular accent in my country so even if someone else, on my race, says something in slang/accent, I'd be very confused. Of course to people outside, I'd have one. Within? Not so much.

Oh, and my lack of Asda roleplaying, I am slowly getting over it. I do miss slaughtering monsters, wolves especially, and beating up other people. *deepsigh. Oh well. I'm about to go back to my studies anyway, soon, which means no games, no internet, no socializing in the online world so much, it doesn't really bother me. Not the leaving my friends, that is. And... no posting in my blog for the long run. As soon as I figure out where I'm going, though. I only have a week left at home and I still am not sure where I'll be.

After I've figured all that out, it'd be time for another post. I thank you for reading.
Till next post.

Paranoia.

I feel so terribly scared. Suddenly everything's in silence, like trapped in time. Suffocation sets in and this is when I slap myself. Hard. I did that and it hurt, so, I'm not dreaming. Thank goodness.

I've had stranger dreams by the day. Probably due to my sleepless nights, I suppose, but you can never be too sure.

And just a while ago, I had a chat with a friend. I think. It just doesn't seem like her. For the record, I am paranoid, PARANOID, of links in Yahoo Messenger. WhydidIclickit,facepalm. But it doesn't show anything, but I'm still like paranoid. Okay, so I have my family downstairs laughing. I feel kinda better.


I just want to get this out of my chest, but I'm the one who doesn't look at looks. I don't, serious. But... now I feel dazed. Maybe it's because I haven't seen the opposite sex in a while, I don't know. You know the feeling when you see something, or someone, and you feel your pulse racing? It's kind of like that, but a level below that feeling. Maybe two to three.

Hm... I have a trip tomorrow. Quite a long one, at that.
When I was small, I enjoyed watching the street lamps (at night) because it was yellowish-orange. Yes, and at that time, I wasn't yet obsessed with the colour. In a car, just so you know. The street lamps seemingly passing by you, when actually the car is moving. That sort of feeling, that brings up my curiosity and it has been said that every time you are curious, you learn something new.

Aha, I've been 18 for 3 days now. Nothing's changed, but it feels great on the inside. Growing older (able to afford 5bankaccounts,cough) and knowing that I can tell people, for real, that I am 18, whaddup. Ignore that last one, I am just exhausted.


Have you ever had that feeling that you are alone, and no matter how many times you try to convince yourself that you really aren't, you can't seem to shake the thought off? I've been feeling like that for the past few days, in conjunction with my sleepless nights. Maybe it's because I've had too much free time, which equals to too much thinking time. Which never seems to be of a good thing for me, if not for classes, tests and exams.


Loneliness always brings me back to my childhood days.
I actually had that awesome dream where I was brought to a ticket booth on a walk and I got a ticket, entered it and suddenly became my young self. It was awesome. I guess. I enjoyed it, yes, even with the getting shorter part. I was walking with a boy and two girls. We were on some trip and in the end, I had to go back to the real life and became adult again. ...Am I an adult? Haha. I was on crutches. I wrote a passage on the whole thing, and somehow managed to link it to my short story where the main got into a fatal accident. Explains the crutches whole thing.
If I recall correctly, I was in a dress. When I was small, I had a lot of them. As I grew older, it became awkward kind of and now I just prefer pants and whatnot.


Ugh... my craving is slowly making me nauseous. No, I'm not pregnant. *shake fist* And I'm not in my monthly pain. My stomach has just been acting shady since two days ago.


Well, this has been my November's first post and I thank you for reading.
Until next post.

Let me play it loud(8)