I have come to accept the fact that to people, I came off as someone of a soft nature. Thus, people around me who do not know me all that well assumes me vulnerable and soft-spined.

On the contrary, I fancy myself being a strong person. My will is strong. My spirit resilient. My best friend in the world even attributed perseverance as one of my best qualities; she deems that I persevere in the face of challenges that befall upon me. I like that. Deep down, that is what I aspired to have and have always been trying to be. Contrary to the people around me, whose belief is that I am weak, I proclaim that I, indeed is weak in my countenance. My demeanor demure, for that is how I am raised by my mothers. I, however, is very unmoved inside when I am set onto believing something. What I aspire, I try hard to manifest to the extent of doing this when dallying with the littlest of things as well.

This, I have learnt, is best used as my weapon. Revealing it here disputes with that reality, giving you readers a weapon against me. So, this I am doing might be self-destructive, but I must say- in Sun Tzu's art of warfare, you must be smart as to play with your enemy's hypotheses. Outwit them by tricking them to belief that you are weak when you are strong and strong when you are weak. Enemies here, not in the sense that they are humans. As the matter of fact, enemies in all the sense that it could have been. Anything, really. Your biggest desires, your trivial lusts.

Always be mindful. Look back, reflect.

**been a while huh? :) I know. I have been vastly occupied! My apologies for those who have been waiting. I know how words can be addictive and left you wanting for more. My heart goes to you who desire for mine; life happens and I, human, am unable to fulfill my zeal to spurt the flurry of words from my cognition. Even now, I am forcefully writing on the phone from the bed on my morning stay-in. I desperately need this rest.

April is my favourite month. We have passed a quarter of the year, but we are not in the middle of it. In short, April is a good time to reflect on the first trimester of the year. I can finally sit and summarize what I have learnt and realized over the past few months. I want to talk about growing up. Specifically, some lessons that I have learnt about growing up. So many things have been happening in my life- I have not had a proper time to sit down and write. Writing has always given me a cathartic effect, yet I could not write for the past few months. It had been crazy.

It feels right today, though. 

So I shall write despite my heavy workload that is yet to be done. I have to study for the final exam in June. I have to complete the scholarship applications. I have to make time for discussions with my peers. I have to keep myself updated with the lecture slides and notes in Spectrum and not to forget the tutorial questions! I am so far behind for History of Linguistics... I have to complete the editing work for my college magazine. Now that Malam Anugerah Za'ba (my residential college annual dinner) is done, I have to finalise some reports and update the Ketua Biro file so the next Ketua Biro would work better and be better-prepared. I have to finalise the report for my faculty's Social Engagement project to Pos Pantos because the presentation is next week! I have to think about topics for my next couple of slots as a radio presenter at UMalaya Radio. How do we stay relevant? Students rarely tune into UMR on Tuesdays because Tuesdays are full-on English day (and btw you guys are welcomed to PM me your ideas if you have)! I have to prepare for a class debate next week (eep) and I seem to be given the role in leading because I have been the one steering the discussion by far... AAAND I have yet to finalise my Assignment for Phonetics & Phonology which is definitely not my favourite subject! It is highly interesting and having Dr. Stefanie (the Dean) as my lecturer makes it all better, but Phonetics & Phonology remains a struggle for me. Does being tone-deaf affect my interest in this subject? (LOL please don't be ridiculous, dear me...) 

ANYWAY- I have to meet so many deadlines!

It feels almost absurd to allocate blogging time in my schedule today, but actually, I am editing this post whenever I have time; I write bits by bits. There is so much to be written that I worry if I missed out on important points I need to write here. So here I am, still writing this on the 2nd of May. 

When the clock struck 00.00 a.m. on January 1st, 2016, I was in a red Axia with 5 other friends (don't ask me how was that humanly possible, IT JUST WAS! LOL) and we were stuck in a traffic jam. We were on our way to see the fireworks and though we did not make in time to the place we wanted to go to, we still saw the fireworks. It was probably not the best place to view the fireworks (which lasted about 5 minutes ONLY! We speculated that since Malaysia was a financial instability, they cut the budget for fireworks), yet I had the time of my life. The glorious view of the grand fireworks lasted for a while. I saw it from where I stood though it was not where I wanted to see it from. Truthfully, the fireworks meant nothing at all. Yeah, it was probably a celebratory mark of a new year, but it was not the pinnacle of it. It was a beautiful start, a prelude to a year that I envision to be eventful and as it always had been before this, lessonful. By far, 2016 had definitely been eventful- too eventful, for that matter. Too eventful that I have fallen sick a lot, missed multiple classes, failed to execute some plans within the intended timeframe, become a nocturnal human and a lot more little failures!

I would never want to have it any other way.

I have sustained a beautiful friendship with beautiful human beings that I met during the second month of university. They were the voice of reason when life was unbearably tough. They still are my biggest (and let's be honest, my only) support system here. You know there is that saying "When the going gets tough, the tough gets going"-or yeah something along that line- and all these months of university life, I feel like all these close friends of mine are the epitome of this quote. I admire how they can all laugh and smile and make me laugh and smile every day when in reality, we are all in a grief. We do share our plights and daily rants. However, we all tiptoe along the lines of our deepest sorrow. We avoid stepping on it, but at an occasional turn(s), we purposefully step on it and thread along that fine line. It was a necessary process.

We have survived and I still am surviving as well today! This is me writing on the 23rd of May. A month passed! Just. Like. That. I have not even finished writing my reflections of the first quarter of the year! It's midway through the second quarter. Oh Time... Anyways, this is a busy week for everyone. I ain't no exception. In fact, I am a little bit busier because I suddenly found myself having 7 presentations to execute this week! I mean pheww... It is gonna be a long way, but hey- I know I'll get there. I wanna get there being satisfied. That is with studies. Now, what's up with the extras? How now. This is the final, and I really mean FINAL stage of our magazine-making. We are to present the final copy of the edited magazine and in shaa Allah, by the end of the week, we will submit it to the publisher. Godspeed!

Talking about the end of the week... I have a conference to attend this Saturday. I highly anticipated this one- my faculty chose me to represent us at the Aspire 500 conference. There is nothing spesific that we have to do, but I defnitely am looking forward to learn. Maybe I should not put too high of an expectation. Remember NALS? God. I will talk about that later. Anyways, I do have some sort of expectations because boy oh boy. The speakers line-up is impressive. It is hard not to have any expectations! I am currently sitting in my Basic Entrepreneurship Skills class, mock-listening to people presenting. Pretty bullshit. We have to do the university courses and by far, all the people that I have spoken to do not like the university courses and find them utterly tedious besides useless. I mean, sure, we learn a little, but it definitely is not worth our time doing all these unnecessary things. It sucks that we have to re-learn the things that we already have throughout school and college such as TITAS and Ethnic Relations. I read about academic inadequcy in higher learning institutions yesterday and I feel like YES, it is indeed true, looking at the context of Malaysian universities. I mean the mahasiswas all learn TITAS and Ethnic Relations as well. Degree life is supposed to be preparing students for their career later on and it should be able to prepare them for postgraduate studies as well. Therefore, the effort to do that cannot be maximised when we have to concern ourselves with things that we already know about. I guess the only plus point here is that we get to boost our GPAs using the grades of the university courses. It brought very little meaning.

What is the point of it all?

However, like all things, I guess there is a deeper underlying meaning behind all of these. This makes me all the more critical and to a large extent, more skeptical about many things. Adding to that, I am taking Critical Thinking and Problem-Solving Skills class this semester as one of my faculty electives. And by GOD- the class is beyond magnificent! This class, aside from my own effort to motivate myself to not wallow in sadness, is one of the key trigger that help me be happier. I find myself leaving the class every Wednesday at 6 p.m. with a lightweight heart. Dr. Kuang just has it in her. She makes us think. She teaches us how think about thinking.

One time, we talked about something that I do not remember about, but what I do remember is what we talked about for a while which was depression. For a while, it occured to me how ironic it was to have studied depression for my my A Levels and not knowing that I was depressed for a bit post-result days. I remembered not feeling hungry for days and all I felt like doing was to stay in my room, lie on the bed and do nothing. Not nothing, per say. I stared into the abyss... and all this while "staring into the abyss" felt like it was just a form of phrasal expression people use in books to decribe the characters' self-indulgence. But. It was not. I was not able to do the mundane things I do at home. I was not able to function. I could not human.

I did not want to human. I did not feel like living. At some points, I had suicidal thoughts as well which was very odd because that never occured to me. I am, to a larger extent that I would want to admit, is very much rooted to Islamic beliefs. I am not exactly religious. I do not belief in the word "religious". How can one be considered religious anyway? They pray? They perfectly cover their aurahs?

I highly doubt it. Praying means that you are a Muslim. Covering your aurah means that you are a Muslim. So does fasting and doing other things. There is no such thing as being religious. How can we mere human beings measure religiousness? Is it not something that only God can judge? Get this: I have seen girls who "perfectly" cover their aurahs. Physically. SURE. But isn't aurah a notion of modesty as a whole? I do not see them doing that in their social medias. They still post their selfies. Again.

What is the point of it all?

I keep asking that question for the past few months. I am not entirely sure myself if I am in the phase of depression or is just depressed with that turn of an event. It is ridiculous to think that I have had, at some points, think about suicidal thoughts. Have I no faith in God? I asked myself that. I guess when you are in the pit of devastation, rationality and logic do not appeal as much anymore. It was comfortable to wallow in sadness and self-loathing. The funny thing though, is how I have many times thought that I have gotten through my sadness. I thought that I was "over it". But I realize that I can never simply "get over it". I am supposed to learn something. And by GOD- I learnt a great deal. I still am. Week by week, I find lessons unfolding themselves before me. Sometimes at the unlikeliest of moment. It was the most contented and sincerely calming moments.

I remembered not remembering how to feel. It was like I am being numbed by my internal pain, but you have no idea how much deeper than "numbness" it was. My devastation took away almost everything from me. The things that I have not lost yet? The will to live. I never really gave up. Maybe I say it a lot every single day. I never, for real, give up with life. I somehow keep functioning. And I realized that it was all His doing. It was His doing all along. Looking back, I feel like it has been miraculous. 

I like passionate people. There is something beautiful about the flare in their eyes when they talk about the things they love. If their passion is a new ember, then their fiery spirit when doing it keeps the ember alive, burning stronger than they never did before. I admire the passionate people.

It's almost 2am, my favourite hour.

Let's get personal.

I used to feel a form of relief after writing. Not anymore now. I used to feel a form of relief after shopping. Not anymore now. I used to feel a form of peace after showering. Not anymore now. I used to feel a form of satisfaction after reading. Not anymore now. I used to feel okay after praying. Not anymore now. This scares me.

You see. When you no longer feel the bliss of doing what you love, you will feel terrified. What is there left for you to live for? I know that as humans we are codependent to each other. Maybe that is why I feel like I never really poured my heart out into one single container. I left my content a little here and a little there. I am everywhere. I don't belong. I never belong to just one thing. My soul is a wanderer.

But I never get empty for long. I am a self-sustaining inner sunshine. I am on auto-refill mode. I know what needs to be done to get myself full. There is one problem now.

Something is holding me back. My insecurity. Honestly, I am confident about myself most of the time, but underneath this layer of confidence, there is a thin layer of uncertainty. I question myself about many things. Especially about the choices I make in life and the circumstances I always end up being in. I guess my self-confidence is all on the surface. My self-esteem is rooted to my insecurity. It all boils down to my feeling of inadequacy and my failure to meet my own expectations.

I love to love and I try as hard as I can when I want to, to spread love with my existence as a person in this world. I try to show compassion to another human being. I try to be as emphatic as I can. I try to listen without unnecessary interruptions. I try.

...and I keep trying in many things. I hate that. I hate that I only try. I want to not only have a worthy cause, but to also have a worthy result. I want to do and achieve. I no longer want to try and do.

Along this short path I am treading, I feel like I have loved to hate. I love to hate. It feels bad saying it. It sounds morbid. Hate is a strong emotion and I am only hoping that something good will surface from this hatred. Impossible, when you think with logic. However, I know that good things can come from anything and everything. That is one thing about me that makes me feel grounded. I guess...

The very fact that I have faith in good things. It keeps me standing again, after falling so many times. I see hands trying to lift me up and I will be damned if I do not take it.

I did not reach for those hands. I left them all with their kindness, compassion and pity hanging. I like to suffer alone. I like to suffer. I like to feel this array of emotions. Now, in this darkness, I lay in this old bed. Pouring my words in this space. Remembering the support I have. Trying to not struggle inside. I feel guilty.

It is such a torture to not be able to feel what you want to feel. Life becomes... passionless.

The topic people love to talk about the most is themselves. We have gotten that established by the behavioral psychologists. All of us are somehow trapped within our own house of thoughts. Sometimes we let people in through the door. Sometimes we lock it so no one knows what is in this mystery house. Sometimes we allow people peek through the windows. Sometimes we let the thought smokes swirl out from the chimney. Thoughts are complicated things to discuss about. Everything abstract is difficult to discuss about. It is liberal in so many ways and everything can be right.

Is this the problem? Is this the etymology of everything... the very fact that everything can be right? To what extent are we free to believe what we wish to? There are constraints, some we impose on ourselves, some we let others impose on ourselves and some we totally have no control over. As a believer, naturally, I would go back to thinking about God. It is easier to acknowledge His infinite qualities and attribute everything to be a part of His grand design. The truth is, sometimes I get frustrated and upset about the world: it is no great place to live in. Most of the time, I wish I can skip this phase already and move on with the next.

Easy for me to wish. I am not even assured that I am guaranteed happiness in the world Hereafter. Happiness. That is what comes to my mind first. In the end, I realize that it all boils down to happiness. That is what everyone wants... or so, I thought. Right this moment, I think the key to everything is peace and serene. Happiness is just something extra. If I ask myself now, I would say that it is okay if I am not happy, I just want to feel calm and at ease. Often, I am misled into thinking that to feel peaceful, I need to be happy. To be happy, I need to be grateful. I do not know whether any of these are true. But all that I know is that by far, this has worked well with my life.

But at times of happiness, I sometimes fail to attain peace. I feel contented, true. But there is something that just feels empty, almost. There is a void inside that I try cementing with all the goodness of the world. But I will end up feeling riled up. I get outraged at everything. Sometimes I get dangerously near to being mad at God for this worldly life He gave me. Lord, why cannot you let me be up there with you? I would ask.

I guess at some point, I realized that no matter how much I yearn to not be in this world, I still am here. In this world. Yet that does not mean that God is not with me. He is but I am not in the circumstances I wish I am in. I want a perfect world but this world is far from it. It is indeed frustrating when you cannot see and you cannot touch something. I cannot see God. I cannot ask for a hug from Him. There is no physical connection possible between me and Him. What do prayers mean then? Why do I pray? Most of us have asked this question in our lives. Why do we do it? We were told that God wants us to pray and that prayers are the thing that bridges the distance between us and Him. How true is this?

All true.

We were told that if we do not pray, we will be sent to Hellfire. Now that, the notion of Hellfire is something we cannot see. God wants us to pray? He told us via the Quran. Some people would even ask, how far is Quran true? How should we know that... there seems to be no assurance besides the belief that what God stated in the Quran is true. Believing is a choice, we would say. Religions are human rights.

We say we are not blindly following but sometimes we never are curious enough to question. Afraid? Yes, we do not want to go beyond 'that' limit. The root of this is our belief system. We believe because we want to. Sometimes we get certain feelings. Feelings that we are understood. Feelings that God is listening. Feelings that no matter what, there has to be a reason something is happening to us. Is that the beauty of believing? Is that the beauty of Islam? Quite possibly. It is impossible to ascertain the spiritual. It is a part of human experience.

Why am I here and not there with God yet? There has to be a reason. God is with me, I am told. I believe that. I like to believe that. It feels comforting. Maybe the eternity is not happening yet but there has to be a meaning behind everything. Stupid, we pursue that reason. Stupid, we get caught up and end up forgetting to live by God's rules. But nothing is ever easy! I am struggling with some issues. You are struggling with some issues too. In the end, we are all struggling with something. Maybe every now and then, we question ourselves. We question God. We question everything. Because we can do that. We can question. But human reason can go so far.

There are a lot of the inexplicable of this world we are yet to know about... if we are permitted to know about those, that is. I used to think- how do people who do not believe in God live? Would it not be stressful to know that all you have is yourself? That time, I failed to understand that to them, it is a little pathetic of a reason to believe in God simply to hold onto something so we do not feel too powerless. Faith is comforting. Yes, we are quite powerless but for the things that we can change and do something about, we do have a control over it. And at the end of the day, we who believe and we who do not are all struggling in this world.

Our quest to search for the meaning of our lives are paved by different avenues- plethora of ways- and some of which are unthinkable to us. In the end, it is important to not be selfish. Humans are a race. Despite our gender, colour or religion. We may have different belief systems. We may be different in our physical attributes. BUT essentially, we forget that none of us are really the same. Regardless of anything and everything, we are all different. In psychological research, we learnt that the emergence of competition can be triggered simply by arbitrary classification into different groups. If we are all different, then it could mean that we are all competing against one another. We survive for our codepent nature.

People are not against you, people are only for themselves. I heard that phrase many times already. So we are all selfish! But so what? It should be fine when everybody is. The thing that makes this forgiveable is the compassion we show to one another. Like I said, we humans are a race. Despite the differences, we are, sort of, one. In one way, this provides comfort to me. That despite the racial/ideological/religious differences, you and I, we are all fighting our own battles.

Point no hands to others. Point no hands to ourselves. We are at the mercy of our beliefs. And as for me, a believer of Allah, the universal God, the One, I cannot control my own actions let alone others'. My form of comfort is knowing I have a God who I feel understand me, will have compassion on me, as long as I keep trying. You are at your pace. I am at mine. We do this together: the struggle. We have no rights whatsoever to condemn one another. If we keep doing that, never will we ever resolve our issues. We should focus to ourselves. That is peaceful enough for our individual needs. Then, maybe, just maybe, we can live in peace with each other. But that would be too idealistic of a world.

It does not exist.

Yet

On my twentieth birthday, I had two papers in a day. My hands were sore from too much writing but it was by far the best birthday I ever had. Well if you ask me next year, I would probably say that my twenty first birthday is the best birthday ever. 

You see. Here is the thing: it gets better. All the time. Everything. As long as you count your blessings, I guess. These sort of things are conditional but to me, it is ever so easy. Everything gets better as time progresses, whether we realize it or not. So, for me, I would always have the best birthday every year.

On another unrelated topic, if you ever notice, I almost never put a post title for my blog entries. So I am not so big on labeling things... I value content. This particular blog entry is a special one. There is an occasion that I am celebrating. GUYS it is Thomas Muller's birthday!!! It is also Niall Horan's birthday!!!

HAHA. I do not really care (ok maybe I care a bit...).

What I do care about though, is that it is Ilman's birthday. What I want is that for it to be his best birthday ever because for my birthday, he made it so special. I guess the only way I can make it special is through my writings and also some Photoshop birthday e-card because these are the things that I sort of am good at. I know he does not mind about these things, he would never ask from me. I like that about him. I like it when people give me the liberty to do things for the sole purpose of me wanting to do it. Anyway, Ilman is that kind of guy. He always prioritizes what I want. And I really appreciate that :) really.

Anyway there is just so much for me to tell I am not even sure if I can fit them all in this post. I know I have silent readers most of whom are my friends- acquaintances, at least- and this is not exactly the sort of things I talk about here on my blog. You guys might just click the 'x' button and forget about this post. It is mostly me, talking to Ilman here. With my heart. 

Hi there Ilman. You quite possibly was waiting for me to wish you when the clock struck 12AM here in Malaysia. You might even think that I forget about your birthday. I do not. What is the point of wishing you when it was not yet your birthday where you are, I thought. So I have pre-written this post and I totally made that up there from scratch with Photoshop (I made it sound like a big deal don't I :P).

But you know what Ilman? It does not matter. Some of my blog readers are, like me, sometimes a little rebellious and is stubbornly reading this post I wrote for you. So I thought I would want to tell them some little stories about you and me. 

Hello again you little rebels, you have made it this far in reading this totally insignificant post in your life. Thank you, you guys are loyal. Just please do not fall for Ilman... HAHAHAHA I kid of course (not really, so just "aww" like a cheesy person reading some cheesy stories and forget this ever happens- think you could do that? Yeah? Sweet. Thank you).

Okay so I always take forever to finish my food and Ilman, patient as he is, always waits. In fact, he is always waiting for me. He waited for me at the RC after my papers. He waited for me to finish studying so we can watch a movie together. He waited for me to come to the RC after lunch because I showered mid-day and it took forever for me in the shower. He waited for me, clumsily walking with stacked pile of notes, files and books in my hands to see Bonda for a meeting about SC camp. He waited for me when we were walking together because I am sometimes as slow as a tortoise. He waited for me in front of the hall during prom when it took me forever to come down after Maghrib. He waited for me after finished praying Isya that time when we escaped the little rave everyone had during prom. He waited for me to listen to him again when I zoned out whenever we were together because I inevitably do that. He waited for me to tell him about the stupidest, silliest, most random of things that I think about when my mind drifted off. He waited for me to finish my stories before telling me his.

So when he asked me to wait for him to come back for me, I never looked back to have it all figured out. I will wait for him, I told him. 

Also. Guys. I am an indecisive, most fickle person. Ilman is quite the opposite, most of the time. You see we both are two very different characters. We listen to different types of music- he listens to lovey dovey, sappy, cheesy, romantic, crazy emotional songs while I listen to cool songs he has never heard of. We enjoy different form of recreations- he loves sports while I love indoors-y activities like reading and writing. We take different sort of subjects- he takes subjects with numbers as such while my subjects are all essay-based. So, almost every day, we would talk and tell each other about our days- basically what happened and we share our thoughts. It amuses us both, I think that we never fail to do that. Every single day. We tell each other everything, catching up the years of our lives that we both missed in the other. Suffice to say, at some point, we both agreed that the period of us knowing each other is worth more than a lifetime of knowing anybody else. It is pretty wonderful. Sharing. Sometimes, we would just rant to each other about our problems and random thoughts. Random, like one day he basically listened to my (acah-acah) philosophical rants of where the soul is located- heart or brain or the entirety of our being? I love that he would listen to every little things that I say regardless of its importance. Though sometimes he would let me talk to myself because that is what I always do. Duh. ALso one time we had an argument about the use of the word 'worser'. He said it does not exist. Or incorrect. Or something. And I fought my case saying I HAD encountered the word in my readings. GUYS I was a Literature student so I read old piece of work written by Shakespeare and as it turned out, that night, we discovered that OH the word 'worser' does exist but it IS old English word that people scarcely used these days. 

K.

But seriously. Ilman listens to everything I tell him and he would layan me. Yesterday I enthusiastically told him about my first dUCk (I got dUCk-ed!) and he told me it will definitely look good on me. *cues tears* It is almost ridiculous how he bears with me. With tremendous patience and kindness.

When I get sad, I rarely talk about it because I do not like being sad. Who does right? But I do not like to talk about sadness. You know. I normally just take some alone time to wallow in grief and devastation which is sometimes followed by moments of self-loathing. But I guess my sadness sort of portray itself in my words and actions. He reads me like an open book, always knowing what I feel. Sometimes, I feel like he knows me better than I know myself. This, coming from me who, despite my vocal self-critic I utter out loud, is a self-assured and self-sustaining happy cheerful person. Most of the time (errI mean there were times when I would walk like a zombie, dragging myself from a place to another feeling simultaneously light and heavy, complaining to people about something- classes lah, this lah, that lah...). However Ilman will always, always strive to reach out to me. With his ways. Until I open up to him. The first time was possibly the first week of our term as the SC when we had 927747 problems to tackle and I was emotionally damaged. I had locked myself in the room and cried my heart out to the point I was sobbing like a child who has been crying for an hour non-stop (it was unfortunately that heart-breaking). He was texting me, asking how I was doing, how I felt about it and I have said that I am fine, I am okay and I am alright. Something along the line. I do not remember. But all I know is after a while, he called me. That guy freaking called me and I had to repress all the tears that I was about to keep letting out.

And then it happened. He heard me cry. And I remember at one point he laughed a little?!!!?! Anyway it was comforting to listen to him attempting to comfort me. From then onward, he would never fail to try and comfort me whenever I needed it. He is stubborn and persistent that it is a little frustrating yet admirably amazing. So with Ilman, I learnt the truth in the statement: grief shared is half grief and joy shared is double joy. 

Ilman respects my opinion and value my counsel. Sometimes, I do not how to react to certain things so I can merely offer my attention. I listen. But he appreciates it so much that even when I had told him that anyone could have listened (hey -most- people have ears that could listen), he would say, "not like you do". It makes me feel special :)

We laugh a lot too, when we are together. We laugh at each other, we laugh with each other. One thing that puzzles me is how Ilman would just watch me suffer and laugh at me. He openly does that! A few times, we had to arrange tables and chairs. I am aware that I am a quite petite but during the old days back in Seri Puteri, we were so used to carrying desks, chairs, tables, refrigerators and elephants. HAHA but you get my point right? I think Ilman finds it amusing to see me fumbling with tables, occasionally teasing me about it. One time, he literally stood and watch me. Thanks a lot Ilman :) :) :) definitely not making me nervous at all. But I get it. I love that he does that. Sometimes when we study, or when we are doing anything really, he would just look at me. Just looking at me for no reason. But I understand. You once told me that, not talking, but just looking at me is "the best feeling ever". Cheesy and puke-worthy as it is to you people, when it is said to you, you too, would feel what I felt. Trust me: the best feeling ever.

Ilman once claimed that he does not know how to buy gifts and stuff blablabla but do you know that he got me a panda plushie which I am always with right now at home and a book that I badly yearned to read when it first came out...? I got Catatan Matluthfi on the same week it was released. So I am writing this to counter his claim because to me, he really is thoughtful with gifts-giving. Before Ilman left for London, he gave a care package of a notebook and markers and pens. Mama said it was a perfect gift for someone like me, how does he know?

Haih. How is that bad in giving gifts as such? Right guys? (see, they all said you are okay with that!)

Ooh also this one time, last year, during the mooncake festival in college, he gave me a pink lantern. Like one I gave him two years ago. We did not know each other back then, I was not even sure if we can call each other acquaintances. I once had a tiny crush on him (now not anymore). I mean he is pretty cool :) 

With all seriousness though-

Truly, Ilman has been with me throughout my bests and my worsts. Never, did he ever not display tenderness in his words and actions with me. Never, did her ever give up on me. Never, did he ever just leave me to my own. He is always taking care of me- not that I need it but it is sort of nice to have someone who does. I am sorry Ilman, I would not be walking with you in the streets of London nor would I be able to watch your basketball matches (if there is any) in the next three years. You know what Ilman? You always thank me for every single thing. Even the littlest of things. I love how you appreciate me so much. I love it that you love me in the best way possible. Thank you for reading my essay-worthy of messages when I know you rarely even read. You also check my blog everyday! These little gestures... all that you have done- it is amazing. Thank you for fighting your way with me despite all odds to just be together. All the best for your first year! I believe that you will do great. Because you are a great person. And if you ever doubt yourself, you know that you can count on me to return the same favours you have done for me. :)

Happy 20th birthday, Muhammad Ilman. May your days be filled with happiness, always. Cheerio!

"Nothing behind me, everything ahead of me, as is ever so on the road."

Today, I vow to leave the past.

There had been so much that I tried to write here but I ended up deleting all those posts. It felt too personal. I did not like that. But what the pear right? I remember what Austin Kleon said in one of his books about advice... err something about the advice that we give out to people is basing upon our personal experience. Basically, an advice given by a person is just themselves talking to their past self. So tonight, I am gonna give advice to you. About lessons I have learned because these words are the knife that cuts me.

How it makes me who I am right now, the person writing this at almost 4AM in the morning.

First of all, I get all bummed out when someone fails to count their blessing(s). Regardless of how little those are. I am sure most of us have something to be thankful for. Perhaps some of us are luckier than the other to have people in our lives reminding us to be thankful. But anyone can do this. It takes about a second for you to be aware of the things that make you feel grateful you have them. Thankfulness is all about what you have. Not what you want. So for a moment, ditch the selfishness and just count your blessings. What if gets taken away from you? 

Your family's love and care.

Your friends who readily open their arms for you when you need a hug or two.

You might as well appreciate what you have as it is before it is gone. At least you will not regret not doing that. At least, when you look back to the past, you can smile and say, "I am glad I seized the moment and took everything I could possibly get from that." If it does not last, then there simply is something better ahead. If you lose something, you will gain something else. If you lose someone, you will gain another. Things come and go. People come and go. Take the good memories and lessons with you. Leave the bad ones behind you.

Appreciate everything!

Lesson number one: gratitude is good for your inner peace.

Moving on, let us get to my second advice. But before that- I guess this is quite a touchy subject because as Muslims, we all have different stances regarding romantic love. You may have, for countless of times, stumbled upon articles upon articles telling you that in order to love others, you need to love yourself first. That is true. If you are a Muslim, it may has been made known to you that the only romantic love acceptable in Islam is through marriage. Okay, I am fine with that. I believe it. But before that, we need to tackle certain questions first- the hows and the whys. BUT my little reading on philosophy taught me that humans can never really answer the Whys of the big questions, e.g. "why was the universe created?"- well we all know this can lead to endless debates by physicists and philosophers alike. My point here is that the Hows are the questions that lead us somewhere. The Whys will get us somewhere but often, we end up being nowhere again. This is my two cents of answers for the Hows: to me, romantic love is kindled when a form of attachment is fostered and it gets a little too complicated when you get emotionally involved with a person.

This is almost inevitable considering how everything boils down to how we communicate. Love comes in many form and I guess that is why there exist LGBT these days. We can never accurately define love. It is a feeling, a series of complex emotions interwoven. Naturally, as humans, we seek to find explanation for the complicated questions we ask ourselves. We are creatures of curiosity. 

I remember those times I would question Ilman about us. It was just scary to- strange as this sounds- love. To love is a scary thing for me. I would want to love the man I marry. Even right now, I am unsure of the future of us. But what I know is that both of us are trying hard to navigate ourselves towards that direction. We both care for each other. We would take turn to stubbornly stick around when the other is pushing another away. We both genuinely want to help each other. It sickens us to know the other is hurting. Why is that? I do not know. Why do we care for each other? I do not know. These are the questions we cannot answer because these are the sort of questions that will just bring endless discussions. And in the end, there is no guarantee which is the truth. But how is everything that we are feeling possible and real to us at the very least? Is it because of love? Yes quite possibly. To Ilman, feelings are gifts from God. I believe so too. There has to be a reason as to why He instilled feelings in our hearts? It is simultaneously a test and a blessing. 

Ilman reasoned with me that we do not have to figure out everything. Sometimes we just have to go with it, see where it goes and I agree with him. He could not be more right. None of us know the future. It is an uncertainty. But the best way to predict the future is by creating it. 

Hence, in love, despite its complexity, we go by a simple principle. Give love. I myself am a firm believer of sincerity (=) of giving without expecting anything in return. Because to me, if you truly are sincere, why would you want anything in return? 

Lesson number two: spread love with sincerity.

Fuh that was a long one. Up for the third advice? :P This one is by far, the one that I want to stress the most.

"Trouble- they might drag you down, if you get lost, you can always be found. Just know you're not alone." - if you are not familiar, this is actually lyrics from Phillip Phillips's song 'Home'. There will come a time when you feel alone but that is okay. You are alone but you are not lonely. If you believe in God, then you know that you have Him listening to your woes. Regardless, you never truly are alone. He is there but someone is also a phone call or a drive away from you. 

Pain is inevitable but suffering is a choice (Murakami- sorry I just HAVE to make reference). Choose whichever you want- whether you want to indulge in the sadness or to forget it, but you need to talk to someone. Or cry! Let everything out of your heart. We all have different coping mechanisms. If you ever find yourself in a vulnerable state, seek strength from someone else. Mom. Dad. Friend. Sister. Whoever. You are strong, yes but you are a human. However independent we all are, we need to admit that human beings are creatures of interdependence. In the end, when you choose to tough it through everything, you will, at any point break. The more you halt that process of reaching out to people for help, the more painful it gets. 

You will find that it is relieving that somebody is there to listen. Some people even want you to even if you feel like you are going to be burdening them with your troubles.  

Lesson number three: seek help when you need it.

We are down to the fourth advice. 

There will be days when the odds are not in your favour. For so long, things will be smooth-sailing but it is not always gonna be that way. There will be storms. But remember, for each storm you go through, you become a different person. A better person. Murakami (again!) said that this is what this storm is all about. 

Despite the storm, you gotta keep going. You gotta keep trying. You must not stop trying. If you stop, you lose. Champions are those who rise after every fall. People who hustle hard are people of respect. They respect themselves enough to try their best every time and they are equally respected by others if not more for their hard work. 

Lesson number four: be persistent and persevere.

The fifth! Most of the time, you are confident about yourself. You know yourself, accept yourself for who you are and love this person. You are the best company you can ever have. But there will be times when you feel so lost. You will feel outraged. 

You think that you should always be in control. But reality check: no you will not always be in control. Sometimes, you will feel lost. Like you do not know what you are doing. You do not know what you are doing with your life. Your life goals that you listed and have imprinted in your memory? POOF. Gone. You begin questioning everything. Your worth. Your life. 

Ahh but this is usually where it ended up at. The life itself. You just need to take time to re-connect with your soul. Remember your values and virtues. Be aware of your vices but never let it destroy the conviction you have in yourself. 

Lesson number five: stay strong, wait until time heals your wounds.

I am imperfect. I have been hurt. I have hurt others. I have so much to write about but that is it for now. Nonetheless.

Today, I become a woman. :)

I have too often live after 2AM. When it is 2AM, go to sleep. We all know that nothing good happens after 2AM (what Ted's mom always said). But hear me out guys. This is going to be a short but seemingly endless essay (bcs Im blogging from my phone and I cannot seem to find a way to manage paragraphing. I swear I am good with Internet always but not with the mechanics of doing stuff. I suck guys. Anyway. What is it actually like to not sleep after 2AM? Sometimes, good things do happen after 2AM (suck it Ted). Like tonight. My friend wanted to talk to us and I could not believe what I did too. I have just given relationship advice (?!!?!??!) and my friends seem to think that I am getting mature. I always have been la ok :( I seemed manja a bit only but I am mature I swear guys!!! Hahahahaha. The day before yesterday I could not sleep at all. I laid down on my back and just soaked in the moment. It was not even special. I merely let myself dwell on my thoughts. Feels normal because that is what I do most of the time. Yet at 4AM something happened. I felt vulnerable. I felt sad. I felt depressed. There were too many negative emotions. Though it may seem that the notion of nothing good happens after 2AM is postulated to be true here, it was actually quite the opposite. It felt healthy to feel those emotions. Here I am now, lying sideways, typing on my phone after gulping a couple of pink paracetamols, still unable to sleep. But my animated mind is speaking. I have to listen. And maybe I need to hear a voice of reason too. And at 4AM, that voice of reason also soothes me. It felt like the monstrosity of my thoughts are swallowed. I cried still. Yet it was strangely comforting. WAIT. No. It was not strange. It has only been too long since I allow another soul to see the wounds and blisters of my soul. And I cry. I cry and cry. But good things do happen after 4AM. Good things like comfort and calmness. I may be alone but I am at ease. Today I watched the movie The Pursuit of Happyness (yeah it was spelled like that, with a y and if you want to know y (why heheh) you have to watch it!) and not to give spoilers but that story is moving! Definitely worth watching and I am glad I did. It helped me re-orientate and re-evaluate my life somehow. 

--Basically it is a mixture of the things that happen in a day. And today actually feels kind of good- I hope tomorrow will be good too. Even if I cannot go to bed after 2AM, I know good things happen. I got no worries in this world

WHOA HOW LONG HAS IT BEEN?

Umm so- not dead yet guys! Hi. How have you been- good, yeah? Great. I am doing pretty well myself, thank you for asking. Alhamdulillah, things are good. I mean, I am back to writing here so...

I guess for a couple of days (weeks, really), I have been stuck a little while on the roller-coaster that goes down. I know. Who signed up for this thing?! We did. Sorry but that is the truth. C'est la vie. So deal with it. That is just how life is going to be. And you only have one life to live. 

Silly as it sounds, and I do not believe that I am gonna say this too but YOU ONLY LIVE ONCE. Drink that coffee you want. Write that story you want. Play that sport you have always wanted to try so badly before. 

What is stopping you?

You. Why do that to yourself?

It is hard. Everything is. But the power is in your hands. You can do it. You can do this. You can do that. And if in the end, you do not get what you are hoping for, then so what? You tried your damn best and you worked damn hard. You just have to keep doing that and believe in yourself. Things are going to get better. I am not promising anything. But it is the truth. If you move on with life, greater things await. Greater mistakes. Greater success. You just have to be brave :)

Here is an old Instagram picture I retrieved from Logan (my old phone: it came back to life after being in ICU and now my eight years old sister is using it- I KNOW WHEN I WAS EIGHT I WAS COLLECTING ENID BLYTON BOOKS IN HARD COVER AND FRANTICALLY READING THEM SO I CAN BUY ANOTHER ONE NEXT WEEK WHEN WE VISIT THE BOOKSTORE AGAIN SO WHAT ARE THESE GENERATION Y OR Z DOING WITH PHONES AND iPADS but anyway that is not the point):

This is one of my favourite picture because it captures me during the prelude of my Twentyhood (I am not an adult. I am a twenty year old). And honestly when I read back the entries I have written for kickthenik all these while, I was reminded of who I am and who I want to be. 

I meticulously plan my life and tweak it at my whim. I never realised that the one who plans my life is actually There. I knew that He was the Planner but I never really thought it through before. 

The story of kickthenik actually begins in 2013. I was, at that time, very much into YouTube just as much as I was in 2010. That was when I discovered Jon Cozart and instantaneously fell in love with him. I mean, instantaneously fell in love with his videos. And later on, I discovered kickthepj and then the Harries twins. YouTube has inspired me. Blogger has been where the place I have written down my musings, aspirations and inspirations. Google is my favourite teacher (sorry human teachers).  

Anyway, kickthenik is basically a fan of kickthepj. 

She loves ideas. She loves writing random stuff. She loves being creative. She loves learning. She loves making films and videos. She loves the Internet. She loves taking photos without her face in full profile. She loves hot beverage on rainy days. She loves reading. She loves long showers when she can just let herself be immersed in thoughts. She loves consuming breads instead of rice. 

Getting really personal here... Normally I would feel uncomfortable. But who cares? We are all a little liberal with Internet. A little la, k. 

In a glance, it seems to me like I have not changed so much. I do feel that a lot have but when I look back, I am essentially myself. I have retained all the qualities I possess and improved a little bit on this and that, gained a little, lost a little.

But none of it matters. I do not even know whether I can say that or not. Because it clearly does matter. I do not know why it does but it matters! You know, like when you installed that one driver to do this one thing, then when you have finally finished downloading it, you cannot even use it because it is not compatible with your Microsoft program? 

And you end up choosing an alternative way which is way easier but you did not do it straight away because you wanted to try and see how it goes with the driver you were to download? Yeah?

The thing is you expect that driver to work. When it does not, you get frustrated. The time you spent waiting for it to be downloaded? The effort you put through Googling the best driver to serve your purpose? "God, what fresh hell was that", you said to yourself.

But hey, it is okay. 

I just had trouble helping Mama with her new printer and old laptop. Lol. 

The point is: the pursuit of finding compatibility in everything in your life can be long and it can also be hard. Most of the time, it is like that. Life is a series of decision-making and I cannot stress this enough though I am big on the indecisive side. Very much a child, this heart of mine. But yes, you are going to make mistakes, you are going to be denied rights over what you want and that is just nature. The universe works like that and I do not know why! I believe in God and He is the greatest power that controls everything. So I am just gonna trust His plans and do the best I can in everything. 

Seems like a pathetic reason to gain optimism. To have a reason to believe in greater tomorrow. And I understand why Forster portrayed Islam in the light of "superficial optimism" as certain critics claimed. 

I do not know about you but I feel like that is what we all need. The little piece of hope. Although you know that it can either break you or make you. Hope is what we all need. And to me, hope is God. Hope is Allah. Allah is my God. And from what I perceived, He instilled hope in His creations too.

And God knows how thankful I am for that. 

I am not just talking about humans as His creations. I am talking about time. I am talking about the notion of hope itself. Those are His creations too. Ideas are His creations. Everything is His creations. There is nothing that we really own in this world. Not even our souls.

So when He decreed that Nik Nur Ainin Soffiya is not going to Canterbury, I took the time to be sad. I delved in the sadness in solitude. And God it felt great. It still does and I am glad I allowed myself to be. 

But in the end, no matter how much you wish life in this world will end, you come to a point of realisation that hey- YOU ARE NOT READY. And suddenly you become so grateful. Of everything that you have. The good. The bad. All of it. Both good decisions and bad decision lead you to something. Another process of decision-making. And if you ask me, what could be better than that? What could be better than another chance to make another decision?

Count your blessings. Have courage to let your sadness pass. If you can indulge in happiness, then you can indulge in sadness too. In the end, it will all pass. The happy times, the sad times. They will all go. Except for one thing. 

The essence that makes you who you are will not. It is up to you to interpret what I mean by this (hi Literatis out there I am talking to you guys) but what I really mean is that if what makes you who you are is God, then basically you are the reflection of Him. You are the reflection of His power. And that will not go away. That will not go away when you die. When you die, you physical body will be buried, never to be seen walking or moving again. Yet, your soul is going to be somewhere is it not? I mean if it disappears too, how can it still exist in the livings? 

Shakespeare is not forgotten. My deceased great grandmother is not forgotten. Rasulullah is not forgotten! Our souls will remain alive in things we leave in this world. Buildings that architect designed. Books that writer wrote. Poems that poet composed. Songs that singer sang. We all live a mark in this world. The children that mother gave birth to. And the next generation. And the next. And the next. 

When will it end? I do not know.

Will it end? Yes. I believe that. That is what my God told us.

But how does Time work? How did it began and how will it end if it will? I have zero knowledge on this. But forever seems to be a concept of time too. The idea that Time is going to last. To keep moving. Because Time is God's creation. And God is ever eternal. I believe that.

So I have to live. For another hope. For another Time that will pass. 

I have to live for the Life.

It warms my heart every single time you asked me to update this blog. But-

solitary is bliss, you guys. brb soon :)

Be in solitude, for in solitude lies inner harmony.

Amidst the exam going on, I realised today that there is about a month left until A Levels end. It hit me hard. Whilst Tomorrows are uncertain, make every Today a chance to avenge your Yesterdays (can I have this quote patented please? MINEEE :p).

Ironically though, today has been the perfect epitome for a lazy Sunday by far. I am going to change that...tonight. Hehe. I think I am going to miss college.

I go to the field alone and lay down on the crisp grass. I look at the sky and dreaded the upcoming night. The sky blue was silent and liquid. The white cloud was loud and solid.

The pitch black dark sky? I dread them. I dread the whispering blackness. It intimidates me. It mocks me. It contains everything that makes me feel like curling under a blanket like a child again.

But some nights, the pitch black dark sky is kind. It envelops me into a chilly embrace. It understands me. I understand it. It is everything contradictory to the pastoral picture I paint inside my head. Yet I enjoy it. I enjoy its mysterious uncertainty and everything in between.

And when it rains, I say my prayers. How can I not? The sky cries for me when I myself cannot.

Sometimes I love the moonlight. How it kisses my soul at the right places. How it speaks my language nobody else understands. I give up trying. But the moon is relentless. And the moon is patient.

Do not let me talk about the stars. They do not deserve my love. They deserve my indifference. What differs them from one another? Nothing. Nothing humans can see. I can tolerate them. They are pretty amusing.

I am a drifting soul, a tiny speck of dust in the Universe of wonderment. I make things up inside my head. That is quite alright, my inner voice always said. Live your life inside your head. Stray into a barren soiled space. And begin nurturing it. Until you make the impossible possible, the implausible plausible. Things do not just happen.

You have to start somewhere. I do it all inside my head

I am that obsessed older sister.

Internet, this is my sister Nik Nur Iman Nasuha.

I picked the wrap jubah (with pink miniature flower details) she wears in this picture. I also fixed the shawl for her because she insisted to wear one like me. The thing about having a baby sister is that sometimes you get reaaaally annoyed when she disturbs your me-time. Especially when she disturbs your me-time.

But it times like this- when I am alone, listening to jazz song, mindlessly lying on the bed- that I miss her the most. I like that she listens to my jibber-jabber. I like that she hugs me when I want to be hugged. I like that she also reminds me how grown up I am. Because truth is, deep down, I am so much bothered about it. Growing up. She makes it comforting; sometimes, simple words she says gives me so much motivation and happiness. Because I know she is always genuinely truthful. And she loves and adores me just like I her. 

"Ayong, adik nak baca buku. Pergi la belajar. Bye"

...

"K" 

Yeah. 

Tonight is one of the calmest nights ever since earlier this year.

This one is what Mr Joseph had put up on the wall of the History classroom.

I like to believe that; "the people's heart is the most beautiful". I always have enjoyed a one-to-one conversation rather than social scenes in which you have to talk to a group of people. There is nothing wrong with that, but there is just something special and great about a two-way communication. Personal. Raw emotions. 

I think everybody takes time to warm up to people. That is the magic of time, apart from healing wounds. Time also strengthens a kinship between two people. Everybody has a social facade they put on. I think. To break that social facade, you have to engage with the person. Not in the superficiality and fickleness of social scenes. More towards a personal level. Connecting with the depth and intensity of their soul. 

There is goodness even in the darkest of hearts. I believe that.

And God. God is merciful. Be good and see good in people.

Have you ever had one of those times when you cannot sleep though you are sleepy and tired? Yeah?

I plonked on my bed earlier but... nope. I could not sleep.

When you cannot sleep... well. Might as well do something to fill in the time, get more tired until you fall asleep in nanosecond afterwards. Right? Err...no?

So anyway I did my laundry, humming to the French songs that were playing in the background, with hair messily braided and pink t-shirt tucked into the favourite batik. Sometime in between wringing shawls, I had a moment of epiphany; I am (gonna be) twenty years old this year.

This growing up business, to me, is like a labyrinth. You know. You are getting somewhere. A destination. It is scary because you never know what is up ahead. For all I know, there could be a Sphinx, the riddler like in HP Goblet of Fire) that is a forced-close form of life choice.  An all or nothing sort of life choice.

Mmmmscary.

Take care of yourselves, Dr Dyer would tell us in class when nobody paid attention to him. Okay, I did but consider this. It was seemingly simple. Everybody knows that you need to take care of yourselves. But to really take care of your well-being, mental, physical and emotional- is pretty difficult. 

Sure, there is God. There is your parents. There is your good friends. But...

It is hard- to sometimes try to not feel like you are alone in this world. Because although you know God is somewhere, looking after you- the truth remains- you are sort of alone, fighting your battle. You need to take care of yourselves. This journey is a tough one. Nobody else can fight your battle. This is the war you wage. Everyone else? They are searching too. That is their war.

Bad thoughts are to be whispered in the darkness of night to your Lord.

Good thoughts are to be shared with people around you.

It is sad, now that I have taken the stance to not rant and complain to my mom like I always did. To her, I shall tell all the good things only, I promised myself once. I failed.

Uh.

But this time, it is for real. I am seeking for the Great Perhaps. Real independence. Bittersweet. The bitter, in the journey and the sweet, in the company. If there is anything that I have learnt throughout this one year, it is that Knowledge and Wisdom do not simply coexist. Knowledge and Wisdom are codependent.

Let us grow up together.

Gotta go get some sleep. I am waking up early tomorrow to study and it is gonna be a pleasant Saturday with more and more of Knowledge. Take care of yourselves, love yourselves.

Lately I have been playing on my high school favourites. It rekindles an old flame, one I have detached myself from. It feels good. I guess. 

Thanks Mr Google this is a nice picture.

I have one worldly wish at the moment: to share "large open spaces with ducks, rabbits, squirrels and rare birds" here for three years. May Allah ease my way to Canterbury. AMIN

I watched another play the other day- one I am studying for A2: Othello. 

The things that I love to observe when watching a play is the setting and how the props are being used. The Shakespeare Demystified production team used a minimalist approach. Basically, they used six blocks and some few other props. But it was simple. The costumes were fully white for everyone except for Othello who was distinctively costumed in black. From the beginning to the end of the play; I like how Iago was the one who moved and arranged these six blocks. It effectively reinforced Iago's role as the dominant shaker of the plot. He was explicitly and implicitly depicted as the man of action. 

It was particularly prevalent and most imminent when Othello had an epileptic fit in the middle of a circle of blocks arranged by Iago. It depicted the trap Iago had set up to bring Othello towards a breakdown. I found it menacing. Personally, it left an impact to me as an audience.

I also like how Desdemona's portrayal was brighter and to an extent, had more depth than the Desdemona that I am acquainted with from my mere reading and analysis in class. The willow song she sang was also (as Shamine has pointed out and I could not agree more) haunting- it gave me the chills.

It was a good theatrical experience. Despite everything (I was a bit under the weather), it was a good night. It just helps when you have a good company :)

A company who took this picture for me. 

It was World Book Day yesterday apparently.

Books have a special place in my heart. They are powerful. Words are alluring if strung beautifully. Exactly like notes arranged melodically. Some say reading is tedious- it consumes time. But hey then again- it is definitely worth a dime.

I like how Google has special animations for special days.

Coral is a freaking animal. Did not know that...

The closer the exam, the more stressed out I get. The more stressed out I get, the longer I spent on the sejadah. The longer I spent on the sejadah, the more I realised that I am capable of stretching my limits. I stumbled upon an article the other day, about being out of comfort zones. The essence is basically: if you feel uncomfortable, you are making a progress. You are growing as a person. It kind of reminds me to this one quote I like by Winston Churchill- "If you are going through hell, keep going". 

Hell yes, I am going through a worldly hell.

When I cannot stand it anymore, I let myself drift into a creative space. I write. I play my ukulele albeit out of tune. I play with Photoshop. Sometimes I let myself drift into finding inspirations. I browse the Internet. I stare at the sky (or the ceiling). I shower longer. I attempt new yoga poses. I watch YouTube videos.

I like how creative Google is. I like the art of creating because it is not hard to master. Behind a creation is an inspiration. Behind an aesthetically-pleasing creation is an aesthetically-pleasing person. Everybody can create. Anybody can appreciate. You cannot please everyone. But you can please yourself. If you find yourself in a starting point, then start. You are bound to complete it and reach an end. If you find yourself unable to be conventionally-sophisticated, then be simple. You are bound to love yourself more and embrace your strength. 

Wanna know what Leo da Vinci said? "Simplicity is the ultimate sophistication". You will never know if you never try what you want to try. Here is to stretching limits we impose on ourselves. These limits are mere artificial human constraints. Be brave and be creative. 

Don't be afraid, creativity is subjective.

Today is Mama and Papa's anniversary.

When I think about maturity, I think about my parents. Love, I have learned, have no prerequisites. It just happen. It is given. It is received. It is appreciated. One does not necessarily reciprocate the same kind of love but one can always appreciate love. 

Picture really is worth a thousand words. Though I have a lot to say about Mama and Papa, I can never coin the right words to express my love and gratitude enough. There is just one thing for sure: they make me happy. Very happy. This picture, to me, describes everything about them.

I feel lucky. To still have them with me. I feel lucky. To be loved and be able to love. I have found happiness and gratitude in love and I have learned to love love itself. Count your blessings like you count your days and be thankful.

The things that we have on our wall. The things that we have in our soul. We beautify our walls the way we beautify our soul. We dream and we manifest our dreams. Err sometimes

Certain things on the wall may have torn apart like the picture of pink peonies underneath the picture of galaxy. Certain things on the wall may have fallen off. Dreams are like that too. But that does not mean we stop decorating our walls. The space left is space made for new things. 

My life goals is sort of like my dreams but I just do not like calling them "dreams" because sometimes, dreams remain unattainable in your sleep. Goals are those of when you work for it religiously in your consciousness. But I know that to an extent, there is a wonderment in dreams. Native Americans made dream catchers to metaphorically catch bad dreams, allowing entrance to only the good ones. I reckon to dream is to connect with your inner childlike thoughts, indulging in life's little splendours whilst also seizing the day fully. That is fun. So be whimsical and be wise.

I have always seen days like this: there are good days, bad days and days in between. Yesterday was a mixture of all those. It was good because of English Literature and Psychology. It was bad because of History. It was one of the days in between because of love. And I do not really know what to feel about the night rain before the day ended.

The thing about the "powerful, euphoric, magical, synchronistic, beautiful" parts of life is that it always makes your day slightly better. It is something good in every day. If this is how you view the world, maybe it is after all not so bad for a "tree in the shade" before you go on your way. The worldly comforts are not for you. Yet when I want to or say that to myself, I feel like I cannot really say that. I am blessed with abundance of worldly comforts by the grace of Him.

So I reckon one can only hope to be able to express gratitude in life often. 

The thing that we talk about when we talk about life is happiness. The thing that we rarely talk about when we talk about life is gratitude. And I still wonder about the thing that we do not talk about when we talk about life. There is barely anything novel in this world. Novelty itself comes from combination of inspired ideas, put together in a creative craft.

That is what I do- to incorporate things that make me happy into beautiful days (which build up my life) and I can always, at the end of the day, be thankful about the things that happen. Good or bad. Good, a test in disguise, a blessing undercover. Bad, a blessing in disguise, a test undercover.

As it rained yesterday, we walked- my favourite person and I. As he smiled and said goodbye, we burst in happiness- my heart and I. As he walked through the pouring rain, we shivered in a different sort of cold sensation- him, from the rain possibly and myself from a surge of love- unexpectedly- though it was not the first.

Within a space of a year, we have fostered a companionship. One that is worth longer than our lifetime, it feels like. From many a time I have felt love for him, the latest keeps championing over the previous moment. For days and days to come, there will always be a moment of gratitude I shall spend. What I have is gold and this time, I would want to keep it for myself. Not for the greed. Just for the good things that keeps even the darkest days bright. Albeit dim. 

From time to time, there will come days when I would feel dull. But everyone can brighten life. Sometimes (ironically) monochrome, sometimes with frenzy of colours. Regardless, be hope and be hopeful.