I believe in connections between us and the universe.

Especially us and the Earth. It is such a wonder- it weeps for your sadness, trying to sympathise. Reaching out for humane souls, weak. Draping you with comfort, melancholic. Everyone is waging a war, fighting... Be like the Earth, sympathetic. Be like the rain, soft. Be kind.

In my life, I have encountered many friendships. 

This one is a special kind of friendship. 

The kind of friendship when she treats you like you are no ordinary. She is extraordinary. The kind of friendship when she wants your kids to be best friends from they are born. She is friends for life. The kind of friendship when you know she is not going to judge you. She is more than a soul mate. The kind of friendship when you do not feel obliged to do anything. She understands. The kind of friendship when you are comfortable with her seeing you pants-less. She is awesome. The kind of friendship when you can lie on the bed during the day you decide as your me-time yet you are totally okay having her around eating your food or reading your book or looking at your stuff. She can be a wallflower. The kind of friendship when she calls you to make sure you are safe. She is, however, a clingy (and mostly caring) wallflower. The kind of friendship when she just understands, without you saying anything. She just knows. The kind of friendship when she gets excited at the prospect of eating what you bake despite its ugly look. She is great. The kind of friendship when she actually eats what you bake despite your complaints of its imperfect texture and taste. She is the best. The kind of friendship when she partially screams "kenapa kau makin cantik" at you after days of not seeing her. She sees herself in you. The kind of friendship when she feeds you food when you come to her and feeling all lazy, complaining that you are hungry. She loves you. The kind of friendship when you just feel comforted by just hugging her. She does not have to say a word.

This one is by far, my favourite. 

She is a silent beauty. She is insecure. She is however, the one who inspires you, motivates you, hugs you, lectures you for not eating or things as such, takes care of you and comes to you when she wants to. She is a friend. She is kind. In your own distinct and special ways, like her to me, be a friend to someone.

Certain things have a special place in your heart. They leave a mark. No matter what, the mark shall remain and it is often hard to remove. Teddy bears are, to some, very special. It is psychologically therapeutic and comforting. It soothes tension. It helps you calm down. 

Legend says that teddy bears help fight monsters in the dark. I think it is more than that. Childish and ridiculous as it is. It is a coping mechanism proven effective in de-stressing oneself.

This one here is Alex. He might look a little sad but he has been with me for a few years. He might not have emotions but he has love to give. Just by his mere being as a teddy bear. Something material does not leave too strong a mark. But the sentiment is there. 

For humans? We leave marks. Some deeper than the others. Some are loved widely, some are loved deeply. But I know I cannot have both. Some people can. I am just not one of them. Some love widely, some love deeply. I am told that my happiness is infectious. My sadness, haunting. 

But unlike Alex, I can smile. So in your eyes, regardless of my frustration or sadness, I shall strive to always smile. 

I have a story to tell, about a girl, who- in one Friday afternoon in April- realised how much of a mess she is. But I suspect that she has always been though she has for long, forgotten that. Things were looking up for a while. You know how life is. Sometimes your roller-coaster goes up. Sometimes it goes down. For this girl, having read The Fault In Our Stars (and became unbelievably moved by it), she aspires to go on "a roller-coaster that only goes up". 

The thing is, "the world is not a wish-granting factory" too. 

So she learns that things will not always go your way and you have to get your shit together. No one else can help you as much as you can help yourself. With this notion, it also makes sense, she reckons, to spend more time with herself more than the people around her. The people can hurt her. She cannot hurt herself. Not if she chooses not to. She is most of the time wise enough to choose not to. "Pain is inevitable but suffering is optional". She knows that.

But sometimes, there is an inexplicable beauty about allowing oneself to be sad. Daunting as it is to carry on living with such negative attitude, it helps one to stay grounded. "We are all in the gutter but some of are looking at the stars". That way, she still has her head in the cloud but to her merit, she knows that she is indeed in the gutter. But that never stops her from being better and appreciates the view above her.

Her grandmother used to tell her that she is going to grow up being a beautiful person. Now that she has grown up, she wonders whether or not she has achieved what she aspires to be. True, she has kept to her values. True, she has been learning ever so steadfastly (with constant plights and complaints which follow soon enough, one after another). She knows that she can only aspire but there is no end in the pursuit of beautifying one's soul. Again, like the universe, it continues to expand. But one day, armageddon shall happen and what of it? Life will end too. And she still has some growing up to do.

She wants to live with spiritual contentment. Come the time when Izrael, the Angel of Death strip her soul out of her body, she wants God to be satisfied with her even if she can never be satisfied with herself. She thought that maybe that is why God instilled the feeling of never being able to be satisfied within humans: to let humans try and keep trying. Without being able to be fully-satisfied. Maybe God loves to see humans try.

So she shall be relentless in her pursuit of making the most with life that she is bestowed with, one she has agreed to commit to with the efficiency that youth can harness. She is young and what lies ahead are bountiful. She shall flow, like the water in pure spring. She shall glow, like the light it shone. That afternoon was scorching hot and then an abrupt soft rain hit the Earth. Before long, the sun fought its way to shine its empowering light again. Regardless of anything, she shall cherish blessings and be thankful.

A picture will not be able to capture the beauty of a moment.

But a picture allows us to keep the memory. Pictures alone are not enough for me. I write. I write to magnify little moments and little things. I write because that is what I do better. This picture is one I took a year ago. So many have changed and I never regret the changes. The moon too, changed in its phases. Religiously change as the system dictates. The system He created.

I admire its consistency.

In literature, we learn symbolism. Among its many interpretations, I like how the moon has an enchanting quality. The night may be dark but with moonlight, the darkness becomes a little less mystifying and a little more romantic. Not in the lovers sense but the atmosphere- there is a sense of connection with the ethereal world. I find the connection beautiful. There is something special too, in how the moon makes the stars look more beautiful than they are. Paired together, they are the making of a perfect mental picture.

Someone told me yesterday that he likes the moon when it is covered by the clouds. The day before, the moon was reddish, he said. I can only imagine the moon's blush until come a time it does again. He wished I had seen it and as he spoke with bright enthusiasm, I wish I had too. To share the view.

I fancy myself a universe in motion. A universe is fascinating. It expands over time. It contains many things that humans have yet to find out about. I want to be like that too. I want to be a fascinating being. I want to grow. I want to discover and create. 

Earlier this year, I have had a soul vacation. My life is never the same again.

The Prophet's mosque is majestic. Walking from the hotel to the mosque, I literally heard every pounding of my heart as if my hearing was heightened. I was lost in the background of humans. All I see was the magnificent view ahead of me: of pure white, gigantic, retractable umbrellas. 

Interesting is it not?

Despite blending with the noises around me, I seemed to be ironically losing my sense of awareness. I quickened my pace with my sister holding my hand tight.

I got in and performed tahiyyatul masjid. In my last prostration, I could not lift my head for tears did not stop flowing. I sunk in peacefulness and a surge of happiness shot from within. After I gave salam, few old faces turned back. I may had sniffed a little too loud. Those faces were warm and smiling with beautiful crinkles. Those faces were warm and smiling eyes twinkled.

I replied one with my own, with warmth that I can merely hope match theirs.

I still remember how it felt like. I am now sure that when we say we miss something, all it really means is that we miss our feelings. I aspire to keep that feelings alive. As daunting as any aspiration could be, this one is the hardest. We humans forget. As life goes on, my feelings go along as well. But I remember. I remember when I try harder.