Sup3rnality

The coffee call
Riding the bullet train
For the morning paper
Like the fire in the stairwell
Looking for right stage exits
Bedroom firelights dancing
With urgency rising
Cornered shadows dying
For sunlight to yawn louder
They burn butterless toast
With sugar on the side
But then I drink tea instead.

(c) Hazlin Aminudin, 2011

For the most part, I feel like this girl here, Hazel Tellington. You can find her at Girls With Slingshots.

Minus the fact that she has a major addiction to alcohol, I feel like her sometimes.

English major, works, oh wait, worked for a newspaper, writes and hey, our names are quite similar.

I relate to her once looking for love phase. And yet, at the same time, to how much she is a closet romantic - nonchalant on the outside, an overload of poetry at heart. Oh, and that she is a reluctant pervert - filthy-minded yet living life so (supposedly) prim.

And yes, and that she has a love-hate relationship with her not-so-generous boobs.

Dear Friend,

I apologise, but I could no longer help you carry this burden. This shoulder can no longer bear the weight of these tears. My heavy heart weighs me down so.

I apologise for brushing off your tears when I should be brushing them away. But I have my own to catch, and they're swelling like a river.

I apologise for not helping you pick up the broken pieces of your life, your heart. Because the truth is, I'm still looking for mine.

2am, Saturday night. Or rather, Sunday morning.

Work is done, and so begins my journey home.

What usually is a short, relaxing drive with thoughts of a comfy bed and fluffy pillows turned stormy with thoughts of smiling faces I painfully envy bordering on hate.

Instead of taking a right turn into the junction to take me home, I went straight on. Straight to Uptown Kota Damansara.

The temporary gratification of new purchases serves to console me for a little while.

But back home, alone in bed, left with my thoughts for company; the fight begins again.

A thought:

When it comes to me and you, there are no ifs and maybes.
There is only yes, and the sometimes no.
But mostly yes.
No, always yes.
And yes, there is no one but you.

Grief is a fickle friend. He visits you only when he needs to, then clings to you even though he has overstayed his welcome. I'd rather he never visit at all. And never lets his shadow darken my doorstep ever again.

Asdil broke the news to me this morning. His cousin I have gotten to know over these past two years passed away on Monday morning. She was only 19.

I could not stop this sadness in me, could not stop these tears. Memories of her, even if they are so few, plays over and over. Then the thought of her earrings that I still keep that will never be returned saddens me even more.

How cruel it is, that I've been thinking about her these past few months, wondering how she's been, and meaning to ask Asdil and never remembering to...

Life is such a fragile thing. It comes and goes so easily. So love the people you've been blessed to have in your life, and remember that the latest gadget you've been playing games on is - for all intents and purposes - a phone. Pick it up and call an old friend you've been thinking of. Don't put it off till it's too late.

Dear Anira, I may not be family - perhaps not now, insyaAllah one day - but, I miss you all the same. May Allah grant you peace in the afterlife. Al-Fatihah.

Yesterday I woke up cold, my blanket banished somewhere to the other corner of my bed in the throes of sleep. With my tippy-toes I tugged a corner of the blanket towards me and tucked myself in while the light of the morning peeked shyly between the curtains. My toes curled at the chilliness of the morning, fingers tucking themselves deeper into blankets to blot out the cold.

Then I turned to the empty side of my bed, and on the unslept on pillow next to my head, a picture of Asdil lay face up and smiling at me. It must have fluttered down from its place on the wall, come untacked from the flimsy glue that has held it there for months. The chill I felt faded with the sudden warmth of contentment.

No matter that it was some crazy random happenstance that the picture fell face up with him smiling at me on the empty side of the bed, I love the way he surprises me. And how he can make me smile even when I don't feel like it. And  how he makes me feel warm and loved, even in the coldest of weathers. And I love how he's always there for me, even when he is far away.

Someday we'll know.

Other than the cash, the want to save it for that fast-looming future...
Other than the guilt of using up savings that should be more substantial...
Other than these trappings of life that are but distractions...
Other than these meaningless doubts...
This reluctance to go to China....

Yang sebenarnya, hatiku terasa sangat berat hendak meninggalkan dia.

I worry a lot. Many know this. I worry about things beyond my control, worry about things I cannot fathom, about things that have yet to come.

My body is often tense with anxiety, muscles at the ready, bones set to fight or take flight.

And among these path of thorns filled with worry, there lies the ghost called Doubt.

I admit, sometimes I unknowingly let myself wade knee-deep in Doubt. And it creeps up to my heart like venom.

My heart's been hurt too many times, been made to question the truth in truthfulness. Sometimes I feel like I cannot believe. Like faith is a fool's dream. Like dream is only possible in sleep.

These....things happening around me feel like a knife to the chest. Buried in my back only to exit through my bleeding heart. I feel my soul draining from my severed thread of life. And yet I cannot reach behind me to ease this pain. In the mirror I see the faces I trust holding the handle to the dagger.

I admit, sometimes I ask myself questions like, is he the one? Or, will he hurt me like everyone else? I hate myself for asking that, it's like a slap to my own face asking, letting doubt breed free. I know he loves me, and yet, this ghost haunts me with words of doubt that turns into fear.

Despite all that, I love him. I do love him. And I believe in him. His strength gives me strength. And I believe he will be the one to prove me wrong.

Hazlin

P/s: I cannot continue writing any further, this is upsetting.

Some days are better than others.

Some days are not.

While we all live different lives, see things in different perspectives, live lives with problems distinctly different from one another, the point is, we all have problems. The difference between yours and mine, mine and his, hers and yours does not make any of it less difficult for the person surviving it.

What matters is how you deal with it.

My life is difficult. But if I were to tell you why, some people (maybe you?) are likely to say: That's nothing, you haven't heard what happened to me, or, I've been through that before and I'm fine. Buck up. Someone is bound to counter it with their own problems in a game of one-upmanship. I've already got troubles, do I really need to be burdened by yours?

The secret is how to survive.

I work with the media. Some days are good. Some days are crappy. You smile and you cry. Life goes on. Just as you're about to recover from one shock, another one rolls in. News come and go. Some old, some new. Some old but in new wrappings. Some new, masquerading as old.

You don't agree with me? I never asked you to.

I'm just trying to survive, and if I make it through alive, maybe I'll spend the time to thank you for putting that hurdle in my way and thus making me the stronger person today.

There is an art in looking for that silver lining.

For me, it's the constant smile he puts on my lips when I'm with him. The loving hand he offers for mine that lends me strength when I'm at my weakest. Asdil has saved me in more ways than he will ever understand. He is the fire in my heart that stokes the flames, urging me to go on. We have our bad days, too, but love always finds a way out of darkness and into a new dawn.

A family that has more faith in me than I ever deserve. A strong mother whose heart is gentle but is as solid as rock. A kind-hearted sister whose unfailing trust, witty banter and disarming frankness never cease to amaze me. A brother whose big heart is a warmth even though it is often lost on many in his stumbled words. A father who despite it all, an amazing figure.

And friends, near and far, whose words of assurance, no matter how little, lifts me from the lowest of lows.

God challenges you so you can ascend to a higher plane of thought. If He made everything easy, we'd never put in the effort to be better versions of ourselves.

The trick is to walk in other shoes to see new perspectives.

And remember why it's worth everything to keep on going.

I keep on writing this again and again so I never forget.

Life is hard. Some days are good, some days are bad. But I keep on fighting because I know it'll all be worth it in the end.

Freedom

• - Selamat Hari Raya, everyone :)
• - And happy Merdeka, too.
• - To those who know what I mean, the phases are over. I'm on my own. Liberating, yet scary. But here's to hoping I'll hold my own.
• - Setar was not forced to shut down, thank God. Was already teetering on the edge, but we were pulled back. So yes, salary salary salary. I can pay for my car, rent, petrol... I can afford to give my parents cash, to my siblings and my grandma, too, and help my mum with some funding for her trip to Holland. Alhamdulillah, that was a very huge sigh of relief. 
• - Thinking back on a previous entry and other scathing and unapologetic commentaries, I am not sorry for what I said. I feel what I feel and I cannot be sorry for them, lest I be a hypocrite to myself. It may hurt the feelings of some in the process, but as I've said, I write these words here as it is solely a medium of expression. I'm not interested in feedback or reactions towards what I write. And though it is for all to see, I write them thinking as if these are for my eyes only. So whatever nerve I may have struck, if anybody read it for that matter, you are entitled to your opinion and me, mine. Just don't step on my toes while you're at it.
• - Again I say, no matter what you think of me, I love my job, and I love where I work. In the same vein as the above point, if you have a problem with me, well, then don't talk to me. We'll get along so much better that way, by not communicating. I'm tired of rude/insensitive/ignorant remarks on my profession or the company I work for. You're not the one working there, so just shut up la right? Let me earn my living the way I see fit, and if you don't like it, then don't follow suit; and even better? Don't talk to me and criticise me. 
• - Looking forward to an impromptu trip to Langkawi (my colleagues and I impulsively bought a voucher off Groupon for a night's stay in Langkawi, we bought two for a two-nights' stay) in early October :)
• - This Raya, it had been nice being able to give than to receive. After so long, it's nice to see the roles reversed for once.
• - As these years pass, it's getting harder to explain the absence additions to the family. It's easier in my head, but not as easy on the ears of those who expect reasons.
• - On the first day of Raya, I woke up to the voice of the other half of me, separated by distance, but at one in heart. My Asdil's words never fails to light up my day, and it surely did.
• - Merdeka was almost forgotten, as predicted. A little sad, even though I'm not particularly one to celebrate it. 
• - My feline son Freddie went missing for 10 days (4 days before we left for KB and 6 days while we were in KB). Went into a state of sadness that I couldn't help feeling irritable for the first few days in KB. For that I was sorry. But my heard leapt when he was there starving in front of the house when we came back. He was so light and oh so manja. He most probably got chased by the dominant male cats in the area and he got lost and couldn't find his way back. He's been so scared to leave the house and his fur is constantly half fluffed up, like he's ready to get into battle mode. Tonight he got chased again and he got so scared he crapped himself. Poor baby. 
• - I like taking photos of things, and of myself with friends and family, but not really the type to ask someone to snap a pic of myself. I feel so odd doing that. I will camwhore alone in my own privacy, but never ask someone to take a pic of me if I can avoid it.
• - Back to work in a few hours. Time to save the nation. 

I haven't been writing. That's stating the obvious. But my mind's been raging. So many months have passed since I've been able to put pen to paper and let flow these unsaid words; well, in a matter of speaking. There are many things I want to say, but so little energy is left for me to say them.

Due to a small honest mistake, a wrong judgment in choosing of front covers, an oversight... we might be losing a good friend in the office. A comrade. One from our ranks. All over a voluntary job he decided take up, he might lose his career altogether. Over something that was blown out of proportion. It was a mistake, yes, and it was sloppy of him to miss that detail, but the consequences...is much too harsh. His fate now lies in the balance. And we can only hope that the party gunning for his suspension, for our shutdown, will take a step back. It's Ramadan for God's sake, forgive. Stop the swearing and accept the apology already.

And speaking of shutdown, as rumour has it, we might just...if people push hard enough. And that means, no pay. No salary. No anything. And it's just a few days to Raya. We have bills to pay, rent to meet, cars, and ultimately, families... A shutdown doesn't mean a free holiday. It means no money in our pockets. How to pay for travelling, for clothes, for food? We'll be celebrating Raya without a cent. Tell me how is that fair punishment for what is only theorised to be a ploy to poke at racial/religious sensitivities?

It's Ramadan. You said it yourself. Tak hormat Ramadan? Perhaps you should look in the mirror when you call out "bullsh*t" and maki us nicely.

I don't mean to stumble upon you.

But you've got me stumbling...

I don't want to be you. Don't get me wrong, I love you. But I don't want to be you. I don't want to live your life. I don't want to be second-guessing life. I don't want to live but not live. I want to live. And I don't want your life. You are beautiful, but I don't want the life you have to live. I hope I don't make the same mistakes. I hope my luck is better than yours. I hope I can correct your wrongs with my right. I hope I can live what you couldn't.

These thoughts occur very far and long in between one another. It is during these moments of weakness, this helplessness and weariness that makes me want to just give up the fight. I wonder, just wonder and not want, I wonder how easy it would be to just lay down arms and just give up on everything? Surrender every strength I've thought I have and just stop? What is it to just close my eyes and let life leave me? I'm so tired about so many things that my two hands cannot hold on to. I'm tired of fighting, I'm tired of waiting for things to get better. I'm tired of climbing into bed each night in search for that elusive fiend called sleep. How would it be to just give up the fight? Take the coward's way out and flee from the coming dark? How would it be, just to forget about all that I hold dear and close my eyes and disappear?

shit.

Those little moments, his small gestures, the simplest of words; they play again and again in my head like a melody you cannot get out of your head. It makes me hum along and smile, like an inside joke only I understand. They are the simplest kind, something as forgettable as your next breath, a moment so fleeting you'd miss if you blink. But only to another person. To me, these are the moments that make time without him fly by. They keep me warm in my chilly office and caresses my heart to comfort the tense nerves. These are the moments I treasure, a catalogue of intimacies between the two of us that closes the chasm lying in the middle when we are apart. His gestures like a tattoo burned into the expanse of my skin leaves a lingering warmth that I wear on me like a second skin. And when we're together again, he renews these emotions, stirs them up again and set me on fire anew.

It's okay, Heart. Only we know what's in our heart of hearts. It's hard to put into words the hurt and pain. Everybody wants to win, the black knights and the white steeds, never stopping to see themselves treading on the shades of grey. Nevermind. If our hearts all laid bare, we'd never have to feel the frustration of misunderstanding. Never have to feel the twinge of mistrust. Never have the need for condemnation, when you see the truth of it in the open chest, revealing in all vulnerability this bleeding heart.

It's okay, Heart. No one said this would be easy. But I'm still gonna do it my way.

I was reading THIS a while ago.

But first, I'm angry, so excuse my French and expect some uncharacteristic swearing.

And second, a disclaimer:

I have no political leanings as I think it's all gone to shit. Right here, right now, I have no respect for either side; I might change my mind someday, but now I am neutral. I have no patience for elections, and cannot care less to register to vote. Anyone who would like to criticise me for this, fuck off. This is not the first time I said it, and this won't be my last for sure. And as much as I hate to discuss politics, especially on my personal blog, I have to get this out. Just like you think *your opinion* is the definition of righteousness, I think mine is equally valid. And my opinion and thought is that I don't want to vote. You want to get on my case? Fine, but do it silently. Because while you waste your time telling me how (quoted off some righteous bastard telling me to vote) I am "one of the ignorant young people who is messing up the votes", what I really think of you is: "Wow, for somebody who is advocating freedom of speech, you sure aren't allowing my freedom of speech." So fuck off. I will vote if I want to. That's my right and freedom to choose. And if I don't want to, you're a bloody hypocrite if you criticise me for not doing so.  

Okay, now back to the article at the link above. I'm pissed off, so let me say this in point form. Or I will rant till the cows come home.

• First of all, again: Fuck you people who criticise my job and/or the company I work for. I'm working an honest job for an honest pay to pay my bills and put a roof on top of my head. This is the best job I've had and I am appreciated and treated with respect. How many jobs do that to you?  
• While I am not bashing the article above per se, I am pissed off with the generalisation that we media are free to say what we want to say. It's easy to say Setar says is propaganda, but did you even stop to think that we can write what we actually feel or think? Do you think any of us would have jobs if we reported everything as it is? You blame the journalists and the editors, easy la for you to say while typing behind your keyboards, but come on la, this is Malaysia, we obviously cannot breathe too loud or sigh to heavily. Did you ever think of that? Or are you so bent to prove a point that you put aside "intelligence" to say we are all mindless drones of a hive? Seriously, don't be so stupid and ignorant. As if you don't know the real landscape behind this all. If it were that easy to say things in the paper, don't you think we would have had such opinions in the news by now?
• I am a frikkin' sub-editor. I edit the news. I write the headlines as per the story given. You want to get on my case for being involved in the story? Dude, I didn't even write it. I just edited it. Please don't be so self-absorbed okay? You think we all are lapdogs hungry for a pat on the head? Hello, we have rent to make. Bills to pay. Parents to finance. Siblings who need pocket money. Tummies to feed. Everything is expensive, and good jobs are hard to come by. Who the fuck do you think you are to tell me to get out of such a company? Do you yourself know the inner-workings of your company? Is it all clean? Are you sure at some level money is exchanging hands under the table? Don't just talk la. Your over-generalisation just makes you shallow. 
• If you wanna criticise the paper, fine. But boleh tak don't pandai-pandai put the blame on the writers and editors. How long have you been living in Malaysis to say all that? Tak tau-tau lagi ke how it all works here? Saying that we are not reporting the truth. Whatever you construe as being the truth might not be the same for others. And whatever the truth is, obviously we cannot report it blow by blow or else the entire editorial will be blown out the window as we are all fired and spontaneously combust. 
• So all in all, please fuck off all "friends" and other people who have continuously pissed me off when they criticise me about my working for the Setar. I'm tired of this childish shit. 

Points to ponder:

Did you never talk to us because your mind had always been far away? Or had you been far away because we never talked to you?

But then again,

Why is it that every wrong word that comes out of our mouths are met with swift backlashing, even if it was accidental, or not meant to hurt? It only forced us back into silence.

So,

Were we never enough to begin with that you found fault in everything we did, and forced us to tread on eggshells in your presence? Or was it that you never realised that you pushed us into silence, which caused you to get bored of us?

Dear You,

I wish I could say all the things that needs to be said, say the things that you need to hear. Say to you the things I feel and feel is right. I wish you would have left the light on instead of choosing the suffocating dark. I wish, I wish, I wish... I wish for so many things. For you. I wish that this was never a choice you were given to make.

Forgive me for treading on dangerous grounds. Forgive me for risking the sting of your heart should you come across these words. Forgive me for thinking thus so, but you are made for so much more than this.

I wish, I wish, I wish...that things never had to go this way. I wish that your paths were many, and this path of thorns was not a temptuous beckoning, the dark stranger so intriguing in its mystery. Though I'd walk these thorns for you, pull you back onto these long, but sure roads, these hooked thorns that snagged the edges of your heart will never truly bear the same shape.

Dear You, I wish these were thoughts that we never pondered, words we never uttered. I wish these were shadows never had to cast a worrying doubt in my subconcious fears. I wish I never had to lose what was left of my naivete so damningly.

You, you're so much more than this. You deserve so much more than this. I hope you forgive me for thinking the way I do, but it's true. And Friend, I love you. Be strong and hold on.

Sincerely,
Me.

It's been a little quiet here, because, it's been a little quiet in my head. Just a little, of course, those whispering ghosts never do cease their haunting, but save for that, a somewhat calm has taken over me.

I find that calmness renders me uncreative, and words don't come as freely as when emotions come rushing to the fore. They stay dormant, waiting at the edge of my conciousness when I am but a still figure in the middle of an empty room.

I've moved house in early May. It's a much bigger, more comfortable...it makes me feel like I have a much wider space for my thoughts to float in. I feel small in my room, lying in the middle of it with a book tucked in my hands and pillows against my back and cushioning my head. The house is somewhat expensive, yes; a worry that is at the back of my mind. But for the moment, I do not want this worry to mar the peaceful surface of my calm.

In my quietness, I've been feeling content. Put aside all the worries and the troubling outside my door, and I am in a little piece of solace. A part where no one can hurt me. Like I say so many times and never tire of saying, I have a wonderful family who loves me in spite of it all, who is always there for me. A significant other who tirelessly stands by my side, loving and giving, and is my rock who keeps me grounded. And I have friends whom, despite the length and breadth of our separation, care for me.

Life is always good if you take the time to find the things that make you happy. Sometimes you have to close your eyes for a while, and let them sink down into the depths of the recesses of your mind and let them be forgotten. Instead, hang on to the floating lifelines at the surface. Quietly but surely, you'll reach the shore.

I love how he can still make me feel like a lovestruck 16-year-old :D

Or maybe it was hormones or the depression of being homeless soon and not being able to find a house yet.

I just watched the episode of F.R.I.E.N.D.S when Rachel gives birth to baby Emma. Started crying and just could not stop. My eyes are all puffy and my nose is getting all runny.

Still hard to rein myself in. *sob*

#1

#2

#3

A conversation with a friend revealed a certain comment made by her then significant other that I could be un-taken if I so wished it. The comment was made due to there being some interest in me by some people affiliated with this then significant other of a friend.

The first mention of it made me rage a little, pissed off at the thought that he would even presume that it is possible. But perhaps circumstances would have made that seem possible indeed, and because of that, I did not pursue the matter.

But here's me thinking on my own, no, I cannot be untaken, as he so simply said. I have just this one heart to give. It is not to be broken to pieces to be distributed. It cannot be shared. It cannot be exchanged for new. It's mine, and I'd only give it to somebody whom I trust and know could keep it safe. And it already is.

Maybe it's easy for some people to play around with hearts. But mine is not. It's yours, and I'd like it to stay that way,

#4

#5

#6

#7

Sometimes I worry that my odd working hours would jeopardise our relationship. I work from 4pm to 2am, and even on weekends. I hardly get to see you. Between my work and your classes, the only time we have is when I have off days, no matter how rare they are, or when you drop by between or after classes.

These are precious moments to me. My off days, I have to split between seeing my family and seeing you. Whatever time I get I want to spend as much as I can with you. It's not easy, but even if they are just a few moments, they mean the world to me. Just being close to you, talking to you, laughing with you and just enjoying a few brief moments with you, makes my heart swell.

It's difficult. But when I think of a wonderful life we have ahead of us, of how wonderful it'd be to spend my life with my best friend, I know this will all be worth it in the end.

#8

#9

#10

#11

#13

Asdil had to attend court today. He received a subpoena the day before asking him to present himself as a witness to a crime that happened in November last year. I accompanied him there, first time for both of us ever being near or in court. The court case is to be moved to another day, though, because the accused claimed that he is not well enough to go through the hearing. Total bull, of course, but I suppose that's how it goes for these kind of case.

So what happened? Well, long story short, Asdil saw a man fall off a bike, and another man yelled out that the man just stole the motorbike. The man ran and Asdil gave chase. After some heart-stopping stunts, Asdil, along with some help, managed to nab the guy and turn him in.

I wasn't there, of course, when the crime happened. when Asdil told me about it, how he chased the man right up along the LDP, for the most part I was worried about how much he risked his safety. But at the same time, I couldn't help feeling so proud of his selflessness in wanting to put an end to the crime.

This is a glimpse into why when I'm with him, I know I can trust him with my life. He selflessly puts others before himself, he's protective and makes me feel safe. And even when he's not around, I know he's just at the other end of the phone, and will always be here for me. Asdil's my hero, and I love him.

P/s: Happy 26th wedding anniversary to my parents :)

#14

Okay, we both know I don't drink coffee...but for my sake let's imagine that I do (I do like the smell anyway). Or better yet, replace coffee with tea. I LOVE TEA!

P/s: Okay, I know I'm cheating here. I posted this real late, but I've been super duper busy at work and at home. I've been doing World news at work, and it's been keeping me on my toes. I've been doing proofreading for my friends, and I've been helping my Asdil with assigments. So eventhough I haven't had the time to post anything, my time was well spent with people I care about.

#16

#17

Picture credited to [this site]

#20

Several decades down the road, I think we'll be like this. Still. But you know what the best thing is? That we'll be like that still. We'd still be together. And I'll still love you and want to drive around with you and talk, despite arguments and nagging and whatever else we old marrieds can come up with then. Just being in the car with you and enjoying your company and conversation, that is something that can never grow old.

#21

#22

"Every word you say I wish I could write down... Don't wanna forget come daylight"

#23

Sometimes, admittedly, the days are hard. I try to brush it aside, make light of the things that are damaging my calm and close my eyes and count to 10. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't.

Sometimes it's alright. I mean, it happens, and you learn to take the punches and just turn the page. And sometimes, there are days where I want to just take comfort in your arms and hear your reassuring words.

I'm not asking for a solution, not asking you to fight my battles, not asking for much. I just want you to lend me your strength, hold me and let me let go of the demons I'm fighting in me.

When I'm with you, I find strength that I don't know I have. I find the dawn at the end of a dark night. I feel weightless when I'm in your arms. And when I'm with you, the world stops short outside the door.

Sometimes, I just wish we don't have to find time to be together. Let time find us to remind us of the passing of the hours.

#24

#25

Sometimes, words are not needed. The look in your eyes says more than words ever can.

#26

These spaces feel
like open oceans
Waiting
Just waiting for
the ship to sail in
the waves to break
my heart to un-ache
to reignite this flame.
The wind whispers
your name, a teasing
tickle at the edge
of my seeping
drowning
conciousness.
Anchor me with
the weight of you
And never leave
me drifting again.

(c) Hazlin Aminudin, 2011

#27

P/s: Please hurry.

#28

This song always makes me think of you.

I watched you sleepin' quietly in my bed

You don't know this now but 

There's somethings that need to be said

And it's all that I can hear

It's more than I can bear

What if I fall and hurt myself

Would you know how to fix me?

What if went and lost myself

Would you know where to find me?

If forgot who I am 

Would you please remind me?

Oh, cause without you things go hazy.

#29

Sometimes it is not the elaborate gestures that tug so hard at these heart strings. It's the little things that can mean so much, be the weight that makes my heart so full, threatening to burst with so much emotion.

Like, the way you're always the first one who'd reach out to hold hands as we walk. Like how you'd brush my hair away when it gets in my face. It can be the hugs that we'd share after a few days apart. Or talking in the car as we drive. Or singing the same songs, even if my song-knowledge can definitely not surpass yours.

And it can even be a simple sms or a call. It might not seem like much, but the thought that you might be missing me just like I am missing you could really make my day. Just a few words by sms could send me soaring.

It can be just cooking together, then sitting down while watching a movie. It can be just being in the same room, reading different books, but just being together.

Mundane, I know, but it's the little things that remind me I'm alive and in love. And for that I am thankful.

I love you, Asdil.

#30

To my one and only,

P/S: *into -- sub-editor fail *facepalm*

#31

Contrary to popular belief, I was never kissed by any one of the two boyfriends I've had prior to Asdil. Nor have I ever kissed or been kissed by anyone by accident, on an impulse, on a dare... Cheeks don't count, of course. I'm talking full on lips here.

So, in case you haven't caught on yet, I was a kiss virgin at 22; that is, until Asdil and I shared that fateful kiss in the early morning light in the back of Yumi's car.

It wasn't something I meant to hide, it's just that I never committed my answer to a "yes" or a "no", since well, nobody really asked. Everybody assumed that I have kissed, and I never thought to correct them. I'm sorry, though, to the friends that have asked me things like "Is so-and-so a good kisser?" and I just said something like "Yeah, he's pretty alright". You people know who you are, especially on one occasion at the Karak highway McDonald's where some of the Twisties quizzed me on kissing techniques.

So yeah, that would explain the blush and the reluctance to answer the questions asked of me that time and the reason why I declined to kiss a certain Twistie during that Truth or Dare session we had. Truth was, I was saving my first kiss for someone, someone who I felt would make that kiss special and I wanted the kiss to be a promise of something more, not a meaningless peck between platonic friends to fulfil a dare. I didn't know who that someone would be, but I was willing to wait.

My waiting didn't take long.

A few days after our game of Truth or Dare, in what would be the beginning of something wonderful, heart in my throat, in all uncertainty yet certain that this was the moment I was waiting for, I met Asdil halfway for a wonderful first kiss.

And the rest, they say, is history.

Unconciously, I've been singing Queen's Another one bites the dust. I at first figured that it was from all the uploading of Freddie's pictures the other night. After all, I did name him after Freddie Mercury.

But now that I think about it, I think I'm singing it because Aaina just got hitched to Walad -- Finally! So so happy for them. So glad that they are safely married and now starting a new life together as husband and wife. Whoa...life is going by so fast. It feels like only yesterday we were all still in IIU and going to classes and going for late night drives...

It caught my heart abit, seeing my friends getting married... It's like, you ask yourself, when did we grow up? No matter how old we felt when we were still students, thinking we have grown so much, it turns out that we have grown abit more than that. And here's a new chapter now.

So Aaina, many many congratulations from the bottom of my heart. I was your roommate for quite some years, and I've seen your ups and downs and felt helpless when you were hurt, not knowing what to do. I'm happy to see you finally reach this point of your relationship, and hope that it will last you both forever.

We may not have been in constant touch over these past couple of years, but it doesn't change how much I care for you as a friend. So Walad, you better take care of her, because there are a lot of people to answer to (including me), if you don't.

But threat aside :P, congratulations. I hope you like the gifts :)

And another one gone and another gone...

Love, Linzy~

In the short moments I managed to find the solace of sleep after many restless and sleepless nights, I dreamed deep and found you there. Your arms were the welcoming comfort I've been longing for, and you held them out for an embrace that calmed the troubled waters of my heart.

And in all the days spent in the moments of that brief dream, I believed it was true, thought it was really you in ways that only you could be. But I stirred, and my hand clutched emptily at the void on the bed, and I felt the shatter of a hope that brought me to tears yet again.

food has lost its taste
there is always too much space
heart beats with much haste
false smiles etched on my face
feel like sleeping for days
and dream dreams i cannot chase

'Tis not the dark I fear, but the thought I'd lose my way, blindly drowning deeper into the shadowed depths of a yesterday's setting sun. I've been lost before, found comfort in hiding teardrops in the black of night. But this, this is something else.

Surfacing plays like a heady dream at the edge of consciousness, like deep-sea diving and looking up at an all too distant sky that feels like at the point of your fingertips. Just a little bit more, a little bit more, a little bit more, a little bit, a little... And as the last seconds tick off the moments you have left breathing, you realise that you never get closer, but is just the illusion from the gentle sway of the water, distorting light as if it was only but a breath's reach.

I'm drowning still in the dark. Choked from the void. Stifled from this blanketing silence. I've been here before, yes I have. The restlessness a familiar stain that never washed out. Many a time I believed I made part of the ensemble; a painting of rejection, the tearful resignation, made to be broken again and again, fixed up, then back again. You'd think I'd have numbed it down, hollowed by secondhand heartaches, and bleached through with empty smiles.

I've been here before. The dark knows my name, knows that he was once the only company I knew and knew I own the deep-seated fear of being sent to him again. But it is not him I fear. No.

They say, it's darkest before dawn. And in my doing time in the recesses of the stillness before the break of the light, I felt the swell of the morning bright. I've been saved by the dawn once, like I knew he'd come.

But this time, the shadow cast over my head leaves me trapped in a fog that thickens the air and suffocates me. I'm drowning without hitting bottom nor seeing the light of the sky, and I don't know if I'll ever see it again.

Oh tell me, tell me if the water off my back is the morning dew, the gentle gift of the break of a new dawn. Or is it a dream, and am I slowly drowning deeper down.

We have to stop meeting like this. Say goodbye to the night and leave the rain we use as guise. And you have to stop dropping in, saying "hi" from time to time. Just let my lonely nights go on by.

I could have sworn I pulled the lock, thought I saw you to the door. But here you again, like you did before.

Then I'd boil the water, steep the tea, and from across the divide of the table, again you'd say, "join me".

"Didn't I say hearts get in the way. Everyone gets a chance to play, but in the end, all losers in the fray. Didn't I warn of storm and thunder, hearts being torn asunder in the rapid heat of blinding blunder. Didn't I say, you'd come back to me. Reminded of what it used to be. A shadow of yourself is all to see".

Well, maybe, maybe. But I know how Misery loves company. And you're here only to make merry your lonesome party.

We have to not meet like this ever more, because I don't believe in you anymore. No matter what I said before.

This is only but a moment. A fraction in the infinity of time spent. Step aside and let it happen.