My Blog

how do u eat ur chocolates?in a self-analyzing moment of boredom, i found that when i eat chocolate-coated nuts (u know,chocolate yg bulat2 tu),i do these:-

1) roll it ard to feel the layer of insoluble coat covering the choc

2) bite the layer off

3) suck on the choc till only a thin layer is left ard the nuts

4) then munch on the nuts

its habitual.n i wonder if anyone else does it without realising.btw have u ever watched kylie minogue’s videoclip- Chocolate? m a fan of the song n the clip. it’s fluid, graceful.hurrm im thinking of getting a blogspot blog bcoz all of my frenz are there.but then again,i dont blog often.imma think abt it.

I’m kind of confused. I wish i did not have that knowledge. Or undo it. (Can knowledge be undone?). I wish i don’t feel scared about someone i knew so well. When i was nine, i had a dream. Where everyone i know and love is a bubble. White bubbles. Surrounding me. And then one by one, the white bubbles turned black-leaving this small white bubble in the middle. Somehow in the lucid world of a dream, i knew that white bubble was me, and the dream about bubbles remains my worst nightmare ever. This is kind of how it is.

I wish i can talk, ask why, seek reassurance that no, it’s nothing. Only i can’t. Please don’t turn black, my white bubble =( For love and mercy.

do u wanna know what i did today?i lingered ard at a fanpage of an actress whom i m not a fan of.hey don’t judge me,i was being escapism-istic about my Homeostasis paper n wanted to look at anywhere but books.sooo..there were some provocative pix of that actress that granted some ppls’ comments about aurat. frankly,im not surprised by what she wears. what surprised me was what some ppl wrote to defend her against the aurat comments. they were so mad about ppl criticizing their fave actress, that they used practically everything to defend her.n that includes their views about (n against) halal haram,’islam yg tidak memaksa’ etc etc.n they speak so with conviction.boldly.angrily.some comments chilled the otherwise mellow me so much that i researched about the things that wud warrant someone a murtad and im saddened that they’re teetering so close to being those who wont even smell jannah.sure,they might be die hard fans of her,but more surely,she isn’t worth it.i understand that what ppl choose to follow and believe is no one’s decision but their own.the actual act of not following The Rule is not my concern here. what i don’t get it,why wage war against The Rule? note that it’s 2 difft things. why oppose The One who made The Rule,The One whom u have no power whatsoever against?it deeply saddened me that sometimes in the craziness of defending the wrong things that we do,we are committing an even bigger sin.nauzubillah..proves that if u cant say anything good,then don’t say anything at all.

my reaction,the fear i felt about it confused me.all my life ive been a mellow person.u know,the one in the middle.i try to follow sometimes but i dont lead.n when i dont follow,ive got genuinely nice ppl who’d snap me back to reality when i stray too far away.but the number of comments ive seen overwhelmed me.n it struck me,what if there are not enuff reality snappers around?i ended up posting something that is perhaps out of place,but i was too restless to be doing nothing.it’s like the ship im in is heading to an iceberg n the captain who drives the ship had just had a heart attack.n even though i dunno anything about driving ships,im trying hard to steer the wheel away from the iceberg.

we need to learn more about the sea.n God,don’t let this ship sink.

ive been getting scary dreams lately and i don’t know why.like of a
murderer wanting to kill me and scarily is able to detect my heartbeat.
fortunately, dr sheikh astronaut saved me. how he got into my dream, i
dont know. im not even a fan. tells u that i must be under a lot of
stress- exams.not enough time.not doing enough to utilise the limited
time.battle of interests which left me feeling needy and sore for
feeling n being so.and vowing not to need.or care about anyone’s needs.

maybe i wasn’t there enough when i was needed.was i?well at least i know, if no one does,that i tried my best.

im very close to giving up and that doesn’t make me feel an ounce better.sigh

Have u had times when something goes wrong n u go "owh mayynn! dah agak dah! i knew this is gonna happen (sambil menepuk dahi)"? if yes is ur answer, i wonder how do we know. ppl give it names; instincts..deja vu..gut feelings..premonitions..’the vibes’..too many synonyms i think, for an existence so vague.

But they always say that, don’t they? listen to ur heart. uttered, sung with conviction that make u wanna just grab a stethoscope n expect to hear sound advices rather than some boring lubdubs. dont get me wrong. i believe in it. but sometimes, i dont listen. dismiss the feeling by saying "im thinking too much".

Seriously, it’d b a lot easier if i can somehow make a deal with miss heart. like "hey, if this is the right decision, beat twice real loud. if its not,stop beating for a while.eh cop x boleh nanti mati.i dunno, make a different sound or something". aishhh u get what i mean kan?kan?kan?oh well.

i’m thinking too much again.

He comes. Not welcomed but expected, he comes. Sometime he knocks, other times he barges in. But this time for 15 hours he lingers outside. Perhaps to let you prepare, for he comes with The Pain. Yet 15 hours is only but time. Time, relativity - cliched but true. Give you forever, you still need more. Yes, his presence is foreseen. Yet when he comes, you are caught unaware. And The Pain. It tears, it shreds, it cuts. Like a beast u ask? No. Not as sinister. But certainly not sweeter. Like strings slicing through butter, it makes its way through your heart. He takes pity and hands you a bouquet of Memories, "for u to handle The Pain". How very peculiar a gift it is, for it both remedies and aggravates. And with that, he leaves. He leaves.

Alfatihah to Matiah binti Alias (1926-2007).I know it’s a leave, not a loss. But it certainly feels like a long one. Already. Be strong, Shakira.

When Patrick was on a journey

On his way to America

He was leading to a town named Cork

When he met with a girl

The girl has black hair and dark face

She used to live in a pyramid

Her family comes from Egypt

And her name was Marie.

im writing this down bcoz i myt wanna sing this song to my baby one day.eventho mcm xde ape2 nilai2 murni,i thot it makes a good nursery rhyme.

October 7^th 2007,

Cardiff

UK

Scene 1

A man in black uniform was walking through a park, (which suspiciously looks like

Bute

Park

) when two men ran-flew in and did a funny-smart-quick pokes at the man making him fell down, unmoving.

Scene 2

There’s an older man with a worried expression on, grey hair with lines etched on his face to complete the worried-dad look. And beside him, the reason of his facial lines: a woman, very young, perhaps in her twenties. She was wearing a hefty-grumpy-“im-not-a-girl” look, with arms crossed. She has rebel in her sharp dark eyes and dark shoulder length hair. I have no idea who they are.

Man: It could have easily been you! It’s just like Dou Shien to do something like that! Mysterious murders with no leads to follow!

Woman: Why can’t u trust me for a bit? Am I not preserving

ur

nang n namoos by even being here? By even joining when its cause clashes my very belief?

Man: U r only preserving my nang n namoos, if your heart is in it. Is your heart in it?

———————————blip——————————————–

Comments: this one was silly rly. Had a good laugh out of it. (It’s freaky rly, to be waking up and laughing at

ur

own dream. So ppl. Thank urself

ur

not my roommie.) first off, scene 1 looked like something out of naruto. Scene 2, has some Arabic words from a book I read. N seriously, Dou Shien? Wahaha. Seriously, sleeping is almost like watching the movie sumtimes.

Somewhere in July, Malaysia.

I was in my house. Strangely so, a house made of mud, wood and dried grass. There were shouts from below, a procession of people with torches in their hands. Houses, like mine, burning from afar. I don’t know why. And there he was, beside me, my husband. I don’t know him, can’t recognise his face, yet I know he was my husband. We were looking out from the window below. And then he looked at me with fear in his eyes. There was a fleeting worry, but just so for a second. Fear overtook that very eyes, and he shook his head. “I can’t follow”, he muttered slowly. I felt a rush of sadness, but also felt expectancy. I was expecting that answer. So I made my way downstairs. Out of my house. Someone grabbed my hands, pushed me in a little group of scared-looking people, surrounded by the angry crowd. Despite the uncomforting expressions they wore, somehow, being here comforted me more than I was with my husband back then. We were marched to someone’s garden in front of a house. I saw a man, he was one of them. Yet he didn’t look angry, he looked at us pityingly. “There’s still a chance. Say you’re not a follower”. I said “There’s still a chance for you too. Follow.” And he laughed, the kind of laughter that stole whatever kindness I saw previously. “And what do I get? THIS? Do you get to laugh like I do now?” and I knew my case was lost. They put us in a row. Kneeling, looking down. I turned my back on them, I’d rather not see for I’m afraid I’ll lose the will, the courage I had for this decision. I heard faint sobs, cries. And I heard the clicks of something metallic. “So who’s first?”, someone was saying. A thought came fleeting through my mind. What does it feel like? Death? And then I felt something cold against the nape of my neck. And a ‘snatched’ feeling, the kind u feel when

ur in Solero Shot in Genting Highland. Darkness. And I woke up, crying not because I was scared, but for longing for it not to be a dream.

Comments: It felt real, this one. Like I’m in someone else’s body, witnessing someone else’s real experience.

Hi again to all of you.

As some of my friends who actually read my blog before would have known, I used to have a blog. But due to some …erm… unfortunate events, I didnt anymore. Well not that i blog all too often anyways for it to be missed, ahaha. (as they say, the creative process should be left to its own pace - which is an excuse for lazy writers actually). Nways, I’d always wanted a dream diary bcoz I’m always doing dat - dreaming. no, no not the wonderful Martin Luther King Jr kinda dream "I dream of a nation where my children will be judged…blabla", i mean the sleep-then-dream kinda dream. Well Moon used to be my dream diary, used to wake up n say, "Moon..dgrlah mimpi saya…" and now that I no longer have a roommate (haha,yes i miss u Moon), this blog will be! yay! (mcmla rajin sgt). So basically my point is, the system of my blog will be…urmmm…no system!it will b completely random. sometimes it’ll b random thoughts, sumtimes it’ll be some dreams i had, a debate??hoho or ape2 jelah. I might really be talking to myself ni sebenarnye, but well just in case. bye~