Hello, I'm From The Future

 Hello,

I am from from the future. I am married with a kid. Yes, I now have a little fabulous family with the man of my dream. Yes, the one whom I was head over heels with in silent, then I had him as my future husband and now I come home everyday to him. My son on the other hand, is a chirpy and chatty sweet, stern, spirited, smart being. He will turn two next month. I am a mother I have always wanted to be, except when I was swooned in the first few honeymoon years when a child was the last thing I wanted in my life. But now my life is all about him, except when I have to leave him and go to work. Yes, I have a somewhat stable job. After a few years of trying, finally. It's not what I believed was my passion and life mission, but it's something I had thought about and imagined would be nice to work as, if I ever worked. So as somebody whose first choice is not working, that is already good enough. I guess in a way, it worked out.

Life so far in the future, has worked out.

Oh, it is year 2022 by the way.

To the Ama writing in the past, thank you for writing. Keep doing that. I am now at the office, having flashbacks from a few posts I revisited. I made the effort to log into this account after years of not doing so, because I listened to High School in Jakarta. Mine was in Kuala Lumpur, but I guess anyone anywhere in the world could relate to that. One post down the memory lane turned to a few, and wow, what a modern Sparta I had myself. Thank you for writing all that for me to come back to.

I hope you'd do that till today.

Till then.

Hi so I've been thinking

Whether to change the blog url, or to change to a new blog completely, and make this blog private. I have been thinking about this for a while now (months? years?) but I am indecisive, hence no action taken. Also, because I love this blog, I really do. It's just not what it was anymore, like I'm not who I was anymore, and that is something I needed to come to terms with. I have again and again tried to revive it, and myself, but it was never the same. Maybe something fresh would help, as this phase has been going on for a little too long now. It is a hard decision. Whatever will be I might make tutttutt private, for a while or forever.

So if somebody is still reading (hello.....) this is a really good time to show yourselves before this blog dissapears! Tsk. Who knows I might keep you in the loop. Or else, this could be a clean break or a complete start over.


Am fine,
Ama.
(oh, I just realized this blog will turn ten years next year...)

Just gotta want it

Your desire for success must be greater than your fear of failure. I know that, I always have. because that's what made me succeed. i knew that even before i learnt about the internet quote. of course you've gotta want the good things more than you don't want the bad things. that's when miracles happen. You can make anything happen if you put your mind to it. If you want it that much. there's only one thing though. It's like I don't want it enough now. Because if i really want it, i'll make it. But apparently i don't.

It Wasn't Gone For Good

Halu. It's been a while since i've been here. Which is good, in a context, now. A long time ago not appearing on my blog would have been a bad thing, but now it isn't anymore. It showed that i had it good. While i was away i noticed it too, that i didn't have those feelings and thoughts, that i didn't have to blog. I guess it had something to do with me being busy watching LOST again, sitting for exams, and expecting some guests all in one month. I even started working out again, of course to not be fat and to get fit, but also because i was counting on the feel good neurochemicals. And to be in control, to have the impression that i could push myself even though i was exhausted and screaming to stop, that i could do one thing right. It kinda worked, i guess. Then this month i was preoccupied by NEXT17, so that was good too. I stopped working out for two weeks, but i swore i would pick it up again. Maybe i should pick it up now. NEXT17 ended two days ago. Apart from my dissertation, i have nothing else to occupy my mind. And tbh, i am not at the desperado point even though i have 3 weeks to submit my dissertation. Maybe after i'm done with this post. I have all the time in the world now, today, this one day. And all that time today was enough to pull me back into that hole again. I have time now. Time to think. To think about those thoughts. To feel those things. What made me so down and low. They haven't visited in a month or two, and now they're back. And i dont know what to do with myself. I know i have to face them, i have to deal with them, i have to solve them in a constructive way. I know i shouldn't and can't escape anymore. My time for distraction and escapism is out. Time to get it over with by doing what is needed. Time to admit and talk about it to somebody. I know. But i would rather run away. Wouldn't you?

Today I Wonder

When i do, or don't do things, in a manner of self-sabotaging, is it because i don't love myself enough, or because i don't hate myself enough to change? What does it take to completely self-hate, to get better? Does it have to come to that point? I just want to deserve good things, but i just can't bring myself to it.

The train is keeping track

If a week goes by without me having to blink back tears over how unachieved and useless i feel, that week is a success. How has life come to this point? That i have to keep track of how many times i have had these episodes in a period, that i have to check when was the last time i told somebody about this so i can put a long enough gap for my next shared breakdown session. But of course they don't have to know about the breakdown and blinking back tears part. Actually, when i have to stop myself from telling anybody about it, i start writing it here. And it helps. Now i'm back to blogging for the same reason why i started 8 years ago - because i need to let it out. I know this is a public blog, i know this will be read, but i don't care. I'm blogging on my phone now, so it feels simpler and safer, like tumblr. If i were to lash out my emotions like i have done in the past few posts on my computer, i would not have even started typing. Because it reminds me how open and vulnerable i am being on this platform, and this platform ain't private. But i want to write about it here. I want to keep track of how i am feeling and how i am living my life and how, if, it changes. I want to look back and see a week, and then a month, and then a year, went by without me not writing about these episodes at all. Of course i don't blog everytime i have it, perhaps because it is all the time, stirred and at times, triggered. But this track would be enough a record of how one day i will get passed this time and get past this all.

Tell yourself that everyday, maybe you'll be okay

I'm being super superficial lately, and i hate it. Sometimes i don't feel good about myself. It used to be i didn't feel good because i judged myself in term of the quality of life i was living and will live, but now it's that AND the quantity of compliments on my look lol. I was a school girl who knew that my friends were pretty and get all the attention and i was fine with it. It's like i accepted i was the lesser one and it made me sad but i was okay. I was never jealous. Or that maybe those kids just couldn't see that i was special and one day someone will come along and appreciate it. I thought that i wouldn't want to be liked for how i looked, at least if they liked me it was because i had substance. i was kinda proud being me even if i was not bombarded wih superficial comments, the very ones that make me question how people value me today. But back then, it was never a concern because i knew just how petty all that was. Now, knowing is not enough. After school i had this phase during which people thought i was worthy of attention at all, but i didn't want their attention. Now, i'm back to feeling lesser compared to my normal human friends, not even celebrities or instafamous whom i have no idea how they got famous in the first place and i think that's ridiculous hence i'm not gonna contribute to the trend and growing fan base. Anyway, I feel lesser, and its worse this time as i lost that self-confidence and i care about what being lesser. But i know if i were to make this statement out loud some would say i was seeking for attention or they would see that i was too bloody insecure. The latter is true. But i don't want them to see me being this pathetic. That knowledge means that i know i am not ugly and i am thankful for how i look, nonetheless i can't shake off the negativity. Now I have the only attention i want and the only one who matters, but oddly i don't find that enough. Maybe because that person is not myself. I can't see myself that way. I'm trying to love myself everyday, trying harder than ever now, when i can feel loved by another without even trying. That's really weird how things take this turn. When i was alone and lonely i didn't feel like this. Goes to show that the number one in your life is you. If you can't change how you feel about yourself, that sucky self-judgement will always find a way to creep in. So change what you need to be at peace with who you are again. Or try to be more accepting. Now, i'm gonna tell myself that i am the lesser girl and not pretend to be something i'm not, so i can have that peace i had when i was in school. Just accept it, and move on. Live and love.

When I wonder what's normal

Most days I'm okay with what I see, I even like it, and feel I'm doing okay in life - like I can accept me. Some days, small things can trigger me and completely change the way I think about myself - to the extreme. And there are days when I wonder how can those days sway from one to another, like today.

I don't deserve being treated like this

I love me. I feel sorry for me that I think badly of myself, that I am not good enough, not successful enough, not pretty enough. Because I value myself, I don't deserve seeing myself like this. She doesn't deserve this. She is capable and beautiful. Above all, she tries to be kind. And I feel sorry for her that I still think she is ugly and a failure. I don't want to. But how? If I could stop seeing myself so small, I would. Get your shit together ama, because I love you.

Third Teasing

Recently someone left a comment on a post here: "how's your life now ama?"

How's my life eh? I'm sorry i've totally abandoned this blog no matter how many times i said i wouldn't. i'm sorry to this blog, i'm sorry to the younger, hopeful, determined me, i'm sorry to my long dead hobby and what used to be my talent. it looks like i'm getting crappier as a person as i grow up. with nothing that lasts and nothing that can make me say "hey, i am good at it and i actually stick to it!"

i'm sorry to my younger self for everything that i don't end up to be. oddly enough, i guess i should say sorry to whoever who used to read this blog because i lied when i said i would keep blogging. i don't think anybody would care. but then again, i don't want to do or not do things just because people care, or not.

my latest picture. i hiked the highest mountain in british isles.

i'm living in the UK, it's my third year now, and you would think i have so much to talk about. so much to write, to preserve online so one day i can look back in the manner of modern reminiscing. but nope, i ain't blog no sht.

but i can promise you, dear commenter and whoever, that i am not as miserable as i sound. i have the tendency to converse with my blog as if my dog just died. i don't even own a dog. i can't. even if i could i don't think i would. because i'm not sure i could handle the clinginess. but i would love to have such company a dog can provide. such loyalty. i'd be devastated though once it's dead, so i don't think i would go down that road. i try to minimize future damage, you see. anyway. i'm okay. in fact, you can say i am happy. as much as i can be. and i have not been happier in a long time. so i'm good.

of course, there are days when life decides to tease me. because one can't live without being knocked down once in a while yeah? but i get up, and i am not bruised. at least, not more than i have been. generally though, besides not feeling anything, i will emphasize, i am happy. alhamdulillah.

a little about the aforementioned teasing: in these past three years, during my time away in this cloudy, foggy, tea-loving land, i have had severe existential crisis (first year), major homesickness (second year), and the usual stuff that's not surprising yet no less comforting to have to face.

tonight, i think i might have an addition to the teasing.

addition: i am lonely (third year).

wow. that sounds bizarre, coming from me. the last time i felt lonely, that was because i was involved in a little drama that made me feel alone. now, no drama, and i am alone. i have been for two years - about to be three. it's no big deal; i rarely feel lonely. i have always been contented in my solitude. at peace, even. i love me some peace after the said dramatic phase. some quiet will do me good.

i am not alone, alone. i have friends here. i have loved ones even though they are far. they never make me feel like we are apart. i may seem all by myself but i believe i am not.

but, i think... three years are enough to live like this.

tonight, i just noticed i feel lonely. i admitted to myself that now i am something i almost never was: lonely. and that is not a bad thing. i took a couple of minutes digesting this brand new information (it was not easy to grasp at first). i took my moments, then i resumed my life.

i am entitled to feeling lonely. i think succumbing to it only after two years, it's quite an achievement! some people wouldn't last two months. but i survived all this time, and i will survive this last few months. it is a big thing for me to feel lonely. hello, introvert and proud? but this introvert is entitled to this loneliness. i own it. lonely, and still proud.

sure, the situation could have been way more ideal, but you have what you have. you live with it.

it builds character. you come out stronger, more independent. now is the time when i am tired of being self-sufficient and i wish i could be dependent on somebody, but this is also the time when i have to fight this on my own, more than ever. it's my battles and demons. always have been, so i'm not going to tell other people to do it for me.

so how about that for how's my life now?

I should stop

sometimes i'm afraid because i let hatred breeds inside of me, that fear creeps in - fear that the disdain will some day cost me somehow, that it will betray me and i will have to live with what i dread most.

What would babah say?

Not the kind of comeback I'd want

the truth is, i doubt myself a lot now. i have regrets too. i too feel what am i doing with my life, what path have i chosen for myself, how will life go for me like this. but it is not as bad as it was last year i guess, so i don't really care about having this negativity. because i thought i was getting better. how i perceive my choices was getting better, how i accept my consequences had getting better; not necessarily mean that it was i who did better at anything.

maybe i don't want to admit it, because it would be a shame if i was to be exposed as this doubtful young adult, when i was once an adolescent with conviction.

i am the type of person who builds myself on the foundation of dreams, faith and goals - that it is easy to get what i want if i just know. but it is also easy to lose my direction if i lack such destination, that i don't try at all. i don't see the point of doing so if i don't see where i will end up to be. i don't remember if i ever blogged about this, but it was bad - the way i completely lost myself. from the highest perk to rock bottom, going along with life day in and day out, but didn't actually live or wanted to see what life had got.

My mom deserves better

And i'm the only one who's gonna give that to her.

Money Comes With a Price

when it comes to money, i'm a bit fortunate. i'm blessed with this small ease. i have scholarship money, and money from my dad. i don't have the latter as much as i did, but i have it nonetheless. i'm lucky. luckier than people older than me. but that's maybe because i don't have financial commitment yet, and i haven't screwed up in life to pay for it.

before scholarship money, i lived on parents' money. mama, oh mama she didn't give me belanja bulanan/mingguan where i had to plan my spending or manage my saving, instead she gave me belanja harian in unfixed amount. she always asked if it's enough. she easily gave me money if i asked for it or for buying something. even then i felt privileged, because my friends had to do chores to get extra pocket money or they were expected to be thrifty with the given money.

when i was 11, i bought my first handphone; with my own money. because i so wanted a handphone i told my mom i didn't even want her to pay for it, i just wanted to have it. it took a while of convincing. i showed that i was doing well in school, and i was gonna use my bank saving, and if my life turned upside down after that lol it would be my fault and it wouldn't be her money that i wasted. i think that's the first time i used my money to buy stuff for myself. after that, it became common.

whenever i bought things which costed a lot, i tried to use my own money as much as possible. like handbags, phones, even my car...

mom still gave me daily spending for school. she still insisted on paying for my things if i went shopping. she still asked if i wanted money if i was going out. heck, she still does. even now when i'm all grown up. god why does this make me all teary. this isn't supposed to be a sad post gddmnit!

because i felt guilty, and i knew she didn't need to spend for me, sometimes i just gave her any amount when i had cash in hand. sort of like a payback. i bet it's not even close, but i did that from time to time.  she didn't want it of course. but i said it as my "hutang haritu", or i even went the extra length "mama taknak ayu dapat pahala ke" or a simple "kalau mama tak amik duit ni, haram."

i was still at school then. now of course it's my responsibility. not yet, but i am capable and i tell her if she wants me to get more, she must let me give it to her. i can't do much for you now mama, but this, i can.

the other day my mom told me she felt guilty, implied by "kesian ayu." because she never bought me stuff, so she said. she never bought me presents when i was always crowned the best student (that's only because i told you not to!) she never gave me anything for my thrice straight A's results (apa mama ni, you bought me phone for PMR, it's a surprise pulak tu!) she said "anak orang lain dapat macam-macam kalau result macam ayu. ayu kereta pun beli sendiri. kesian ayu."

it just broke my heart... i never want mama to feel that way.

so i replied, "sebab anak orang lain takde duit. ayu ada. kenapa nak guna duit mama pulak. anak orang lain pun tah-tah lagilah mak bapak tak dapat belikan, lepas tu dorang sendiri pun tak mampu nak beli. ayu patut bersyukur ada duit untuk beli barang sendiri. mama kan salu kasi ayu duit. mama kasi ayu hadiah beday pandora mahal pulak tu!"

when she gave me the pandora bracelet and jewelry set, which was also a surprise, she said it's a cumulative birthday present albeit a bit delayed. hahaha mamaa. because she hadn't given me a birthday present in a long time, she said. she's given me everything and more, why would i demand for a present on a specific day of the year?

but i understand. as a mom it's possible for her to feel that way. she just wants to make me happy. she wants to do what other parents do for their children. but the thing is ma, you're not like other parents. you don't have to be.

i've long made peace with what life could offer if it was different, or in fact if it stayed the same. i've made peace with babah not being here to spoil me like he would love to. come on, life's not that bad on most days. both mama and i know this, but sometimes it crosses our mind and it's not something wrong. i notice now mama mentions it more than she did in the past, and it's heart breaking. she thinks i deserve better and she pities me. worse, when she pities us. i'd just say, if we compare how we are with who we were, it is sad mama. but if we compare how we are now with some other people, we will feel glad. but there's nothing wrong in being sad once in a while, yes? 

just don't let it linger, that's all.

i'm usually the one who has feelings and feel sorry for mama, but i don't like it if she has feelings and feel sorry for me. because i know those feelings, they don't feel good. i'd rather mama not feel anything and let me be the feeler lols.

i'm lucky, i know. i've got so much in this life. but i wonder if i'm given all that so i can give to other people...

i know that's the point. to get is to give. but is it wrong if i feel it's too much?

i tell myself, when they ask too much of me, (maybe) that's because i'll get much in return.

people wouldn't have asked for help if they didn't need it. you're supposed to be glad for the opportunity to help others, even if you feel it's too much, even if you think they should have learnt to help themselves, even if whatever... you should be glad. you're the answer to their prayers. you're blessed and luckier. so help, because you can. as long as you can, it means you at least have it better.

that's what i tell myself.

i have to tell myself that, because it's hard. it's hard to lend a big amount of money, especially if you were told to keep it a secret from your own mom. especially if you know what she'd say if she knew. but i don't want her to feel sorry for me, i don't want her to feel bad about anything, and i don't want to dishonour a secret. but i know if i told her, if i just told her, i might not feel so bad about it. i might not feel bad about keeping a secret from my mom, and i might not feel bad about lending the money. it's between doing things for myself vs for another.

it's between making myself feel better vs making myself feel guilty later. guilty for not keeping the secret as asked of me. i still feel guilty for not telling my mom. but i know it's not necessary. i'm an adult. it's my money. i just have to suck it up and stop crying.

yes, i cry whenever it happens. because i feel so conflicted.

i'm not only conflicted about not telling my mom, but i'm conflicted about lending the money. and i need to ask my mom if i should lend it. i think it's because this time, it's my own money from my own bank account i set up myself. it's not money babah gave me in a bank account he set up for me. it's not like how it used to be. of course i love babah's money, not in a materialistic way, but in a sentimental way. it's what he left for me. i got it out of his kindness anyway so who am i not to share it with others in need? but it didn't feel this difficult even when i had no idea if i'd ever get it back. perhaps because i had no role in having it.

but this time, i got that scholarship money myself, and i saved it. i spend a lot, i splurge, i go on holidays and shopping trips, but i save. i'm pretty good at it if you ask me. sure, i know my friends could certainly save more, but hello, it's me. i'd never saved before. when i told my mom about the money i saved, she was surprised. she asked if i spend too little haha. no mama, i don't know how i feel everything is enough. it's actually more than enough if you just don't spend it on stuff.

so yes, do i wish i didn't have to lend the money? guilty.

and to think it's not even my hard-earned money! i wonder how do people who work day and night and weekend feel when all the rewards of their hard work are gone because other people decide it's a good idea to ask for a loan. i'd say you see now what's your fault? you should have worked as hard. at least, you should have tried. i knew this day would come.

but of course i don't say that.

baru sikit Allah uji. baru duit scholarship, belum salary. dah rasa susah nak bagi. aku harap dengan rasa susah ni, rasa berat hati ni, tapi aku bagi jugak, ada kebaikan untuk aku. ada berkat, ada rahmat. aku dahlah banyak dosa, aku harap Allah ampunkan dosa-dosa aku. aku harap Allah makbulkan doa-doa aku, mudahkan hidup aku, tolong aku. sebab sungguh, aku rasa susah nak tolong kalini. siap menangis bagai. drama. tapi kalau bukan aku yang tolong, siapa lagi?

aku nak tolong diri sendiri, sebab tu aku menyimpan, aku berjimat. lepas ni siapa nak tolong aku?

takpela ama... ada la tu... Allah ada...

it's hard because when i had to give the money, i was left with an amount that wasn't even enough for me to buy my flight ticket. i never waited for jpa's allowance, but at that time, i did. because i needed money. because i had given mine to somebody. yes, i have money in my saving account. but i vowed once the money goes in there, it will go out only when i'm bringing it back to malaysia. and when it's in malaysia, i won't give that part of money to other people.

what's even harder is i'll have to do it again. i guess. how could i say no. and the hardest part, i've never even given my own mom that much with this money i've got in the uk. that hit me the hardest. and i had just planned to save more for my mom, and for myself.

next year is my final year. i need to spend a lot, for stuff to bring back and to bring my mom here insyaallah. i want to spend for it, i don't mind. but i'm worried if i don't have enough, because people owe me. i sure hope they don't take long to pay me back..... i hope Allah helps them to pay me back because i'll be the one who needs help.

where is the limit that says you've done enough, you may stop? where is the line between you should always help and you shouldn't because you should help yourself? or is there none? just close your eyes, give it all and give in to God. He'll have your back. or is that not how it works?

i'm sorry. i needed to let all this out.

From a Speck of Dust

i hope nobody will read this. but i know some will. who cares, this is my blog. my blogger tab is opened, hence. i usually write about this stuff on tumblr. but i haven't written on tumblr for a very, very, long time. i feel bad about that too. but now let's focus on this blog, and make up with it first. blog, i'm gonna spill. tonight, i'm reminded of how bad i've made... guys feel about me. i know it was bad. it was. i could go on about how bad was bad and how could i be so sure, but let's not. let's just say making them feel bad, made me feel bad, that i have shed tears myself. sometimes not because i felt guilty, but because i knew what they felt was genuine and i couldn't give it back. and i realized i couldn't even feel for myself what they felt for me, such feelings... and i cried. most of the times i was careful, but when it comes to others' feelings it's just beyond your control. it was ages ago, so long ago. so i know i'm just a speck of dust in their lives now. but tonight - as a random act of kindness, or i don't know, out of guilt, or simply, completely random 2 am moments for the people i used to know - i pray that they are happy. i do.

My View on Relationship Throughout The Years

i was familiar with the term 'couple' since i was in primary school. kids my age started getting involved in it as early as... 11 years old? perhaps even earlier than that. but it's only couple cara budak-budak lah, zaman kitorang. ew, the word itself is ew. kapel. kapel mapel.

at 11 years old, a boy had a crush on me. coincidentally, or consequently, i developed a crush on him. so we liked each other. but at that age, i wouldn't want to believe he really liked me or i was the only one he liked. trust issues di usia muda. but it was smart to be a skeptic! he asked if i wanted to 'be with him'. you know what i thought? i thought it was a bunch of crap. "i know you like me. but until when? we're kids for god's sake. i do like you, but it's laughable. why would we be together? it's not like we're gonna get married. i'm flattered, blushing and all, i also have butterflies in my tummy and stuff, but nope." yep. that's what i thought. but of course i didn't tell him that.

thus began my life journey of having mutual feelings with my crush(es), but never wanted to do anything about it because i was realistic as heck. kids or teens around me be getting in relationships every week, in and out and in again, but i ain't doing all that. i was still a girl who wrote about boys in her diary and giggle with her girlfriends when they passed by, but no. it's not for me.

i would only be in a relationship with a guy whom i would marry, said the me that was about to sit for UPSR.

despite all that, i still think if somebody asks you about relationships and you answer "tunggulah lepas sekolah/study/kerja/mereput dulu", you're poyo hahahah. i mean, i'd embrace it if it were to happen earlier, on conditions. important to notice that i didn't exactly had no feeling at all, or that i hated boys pastu acah tak minat benda jadah ni taknak kahwin la apa. tidak pernah. aku dari kecik nak kahwin kot hahahah. i just... abstained? from pointless things.

because of my attitude towards kapel mapel (for that age and for that time, i don't call it relationship because i believe the term relationship carries bigger meanings and heavier weight), i always got misunderstood. boys be thinking i wasn't interested when i was. i was interested, in them, but not in wherever it was we were headed to. couldn't we just stay friends? do we really have to act like boyfriend and girlfriend??

if they began to talk differently with me, it's a turn-off. if they addressed me differently, it's a turn-off. 

exhibit A, one guy told me using aku-kau was harsh, and he insisted we used names instead. and i... agreed. because i ~fancied~ him. but the next second i said yes to it, i regretted my decision. i was ashamed of myself, of how weak i was to succumb to such persuasion lol. it was never the same. i didn't feel comfortable with him, i couldn't talk comfortably, and we drifted apart. i compromised my principles. i didn't like talking in that way with boys, i liked aku-kau better because it somehow symbolizes friendship and sincerity(???) instead of flirtation, and i just wasn't being myself. 

at 15, i learnt that i shouldn't change because of guys. unless they make me *want* to change, i'd end up hating them for making me do things i didn't want to do. poor guy then told my friend he stopped trying because i appeared to not have the same feelings. i did, but i wasn't one to show it anyway, and then i really didn't have such feelings anymore after i felt like i had to change because of him. when it wasn't all his fault - i should have said something. but i was 15. hey, at least it wasn't as bad as how taylor swift portrayed it to be! girl gotta be smarter than that!

i had an idea of the ideal guy. i blogged about it here when i was 14, i think. but i deleted it several years later because blogging the list of your dream guy criteria is just too juvenile.

i don't think i included this in the list, but i once thought if i could be with a bad boy and make him good, it would be cool. hey, no passing judgement about me on my blog! i was still a human who was susceptible to impressions huhu. i was under the impression that if a guy who was a casanova or a player could change to be a decent guy for me, he must really love me. konon macam a bad boy who'd be good just for you gitu. ah, ini semua pengaruh tv. 

then i changed my mind...

at 17, i added another must-have on the list: he must not be a guy who comes and goes between women so easily, he must not have a circle of girls around him for him to choose, and he must also make me his only option even though he has choices. he must not have his heart so divided even in silent, i want to be chosen. i want to be the only one. i want a good guy from the start. whom i wouldn't have to question and doubt. who would give me no reason to. persetankan pengaruh tv. 

he also must accept that i am who i am. if i wouldn't want to go out with him, he shouldn't say my life preference was boring. nor should he find another girl to replace me - somebody who was more easy-going. thanks to ama-at-15, i had learnt not to compromise for a guy. i stick by my rules.

i had faults too. i hope now, i have learnt to make it right so i could do it right with the right person. 

this marked timeline is marked because of the changes i can remember. there are other examples, but these are the major ones. 

what i think was consistent since the very beginning was how i had always wanted my husband to start off as my friend, or for the relationship to blossom from friendship. i was in love with the idea of friends becoming lovers. but this is also in line with my ideals.

1. i only wanted to be in a relationship once we're going to get married, i wanted him to be the first and the last - so what happened if i found him much earlier than that stage? simple. stay friends until you get to that point. 

2. i didn't like the typical boyfriend attitude - to avoid this, treat each other just as friends.

3. also, because of how skeptic i was, the guy needed to earn my trust - earn it by being my friend first, with no hidden agenda, no selfish motive. if you could wait to get what you want, checked. if you could stand to be my friend, if you could stand me for so long, hopefully you could stand me for ever ever after.

plus, did you know i wanted to be friends with my future husband at least 7 years before we got married?

another fun fact: i was a member of GAC. Geng Anti Couple. yes you may laugh.

ok you may stop now.

i wasn't vulnerable to peer pressure of having boyfriends, but i was vulnerable to this. i read that 14 is the age when we did questionable things and thought we were cool. the source is credible - it's tumblr. bak kata seorang bekas ahli, "rempit gila." i guess we all have our rempit moments, only the nature of rempitness differentiates us. in my defence, it coincides with what i already believed in. before i elaborate on that, let me briefly explain the rationale of GAC.

GAC was formed because we were young and naive and took word by word everything we read on the web. it was with good intentions. kapel mapel ialah gejala buruk. haram, zina hati, alah dah bercinta takkanlah tak buat lebih lebih kenn. sesungguhnya lelaki itu virus. pasti mati. wah, sampai begitu sekali. ya, we actually lived by that. no consideration, no critical thinking, no questioning or curiosity. just, believe. after all, it was islamic and strict. and on the internet. so it must be true!

in spite of that, GAC only operated starting from form 2 and ended in form 4. after that you could kapel. boys actually waited for my friends to get to that point of freedom... or so they said.

some of my friends were idealistic, they said they wouldn't want to have a boyfriend, ever. i, on the other hand, was still realistic as heck. i knew i'd have a boyfriend someday. a boyfriend or a friend that is a boy whom i'd want to marry, whatever. the point is i'd be in a relationship, a real one, when the time comes, when i've found the one and we're going to get married. when we're that serious, yes, i'd have a boyfriend. it's just that it's not now when i was in form 2, or form 4. i'd just have to wait.

and boy, did i wait.

after GAC, or even before GAC ended, i had corrected my perception of couple. i realized that there were just do's and don't's. i already had an idea of what a relationship should be like to be balanced and to not be leaning towards either extreme end. i know this kind of relationship exists. you don't abandon all and expect a proposal out of nowhere. you can work on it in your own way. 

i also realized that it's not the noun which you should be concerned about, but the verb. the action is what makes something wrong - it's what makes a sin. if you treat a guy friend like kapel mapel kids treat their boyfriends, then your friendship is still a no-no. but that's beside the point, i only thought to mention it here while we're at it. let alone if it's a relationship, you'd want to keep it. if you are serious about getting married, you will try to be deserving of blessings.

so anyway... 

i would only be in a relationship if it's for marriage, and i would only marry somebody for love.

somewhere along the timeline, i learnt that love was not crush, love was not like, love was not lust. it's neither obsession nor infatuation. it's not ego and it's not games. it's not logical even with the principles. it doesn't always require ownership, it doesn't equate to relationship. it's something else.

but this post is not about it, is it?

over time, the ideal relationship i developed in mind was further polished. not just the ideal relationship, but the idea of the ideal guy too. it's not a common one. in fact, it might be just a little crazy. but if i got it, speaking in conditional tense, i'd be ever so thankful to Allah. i'd be grateful to the person too, i wouldn't choose him just because he fit my ideals, it would be just a beautiful coincidence. i'd be having trouble to believe this ideal, is now real. 

who knew i could be idealistic, and something idealistic could be realistic?

The Line

i had an unusual dream.

in that dream i was in a building. i was moving around because i had chores to do or places to go, i don't know. but i was going from one place, one room, one floor to the other, i think. in the middle of it i found a black lady with a gun in her hand. distressed, she looked like somebody working in the building, because of her uniform - perhaps a cleaner. or used to be. i'm not sure what gave me the impression but i knew she had been sacked, and she was stressed out, and she was holding a gun because of that.

so, i, could have run. run away, run out of the building, for life's sake. because i knew something bad was going to happen. but for the life of me, my friends were in the building. people i know. i had to find them and i had to tell them about it. calling them didn't cross my mind at all. i probably could have used my phone later, out in the open or somewhere hiding in the shade, but come to think of it now it still seems wrong to leave them behind and warn them only when i was safe, right? so i stayed.

long story short, the lady came to where i was.

i hid under a table, at the corner of the area, but i knew it was no good. it was a table, not a cupboard. still, i took my chances. at first she didn't see me, she was looking right at me but i believe she didn't see me. then just when she had taken some steps further, she looked back, and she smiled. she was playing with me. she smirked, yet she didn't come closer. she paced around at the same distance, smiling, smirking. then she came closer.

i remember thinking, at least if i died, it's not because of some racist or islamophobic causes. this lady lost her job and she went mental. as if that's some consolation.

as she came closer, i prayed for a miracle or mercy. when she was a couple of feet away from me, i stood up and looked her in the eye. she raised the gun, i took some sort of a container next to me, crouched down and shield my head with it.

not my head. not my face. i was going to protect it. even with a white, square, plastic container i had a hunch to be an ice-cream tub. an ice-cream tub ended its life as my protector, as i ended mine.

what happened next happened in silent. there was no sound, no shots of gun, no mad woman shouting and laughing or cursing. almost as if it didn't happen and i was safe. but it happened, because i saw fire. even through shut eyes, i saw light. explosive light, striking light. it didn't happen quickly nor did it happen in a blur. it was in a motion enough for me to appreciate the light, brilliant as if it was sunlight peeking through a curtain in the morning. i could even appreciate how painless it was. i opened my eyes waiting for it to end. or had it?

when there was no more light, i removed the container i was still holding. the container was intact. but i knew it must have been in pieces. and i knew i was dead. but i stood up, and i saw people crowding the area. close enough to see, not close enough to look. i saw my friends, the people i knew, that i was trying to warn. they were sobbing, holding their faces. some just stared. i wish they'd stop staring because i knew i didn't look good. i knew if i turned around and looked down, i would saw me, or if i wiped my face my hand would be wet and red, or i would feel an eye out of place. so i didn't.

i just walked towards them, and pass them.

i walked down the stairs, and i saw me on a stretcher. my whole body was covered. then she, or me, lifted the cover off her, my, face. the face was the face i had always seen on the mirror. the face was a face belonged to the living. the me on the stretcher said something to the crowd, she was looking up the stairs at us, shouting something, about the lady, or about herself, or the ones she was trying to save. but they couldn't hear her. i could.

i kept walking down, not looking at her. the glass walls revealed a sky that was almost dark, but not quite. it was dusk. i saw the eiffel tower just next door, much smaller, but i wasn't in paris. there was a horizontal line in the sky, a line of light, the only daylight that was left. i heard somebody said, "close the sky", and the line started thinning. slowly, the light disappeared. the sky was black, with patches of greyish orange where the clouds hovered. i knew the command was to respect me.

and i thought, that wasn't too bad after all.

i was, and am, glad it was me. not anybody i know. because being dead, was not that bad for me. 

The Surge

I'm having homesick surge right now... all of a sudden.

not really, i've been having the feeling of wanting to go back home for a month or two now. just to go back home and see my mom. just to see my mom. just that. i don't know why and i can only pray that because it can't happen now, and if it won't happen sooner, it will happen later when the time comes. i just want to see my mom.

have a chat, bake and cook together, listen to her talking, just chill in front of the tv, me taking her out anywhere for a meal. the simple things we always do. at least to see her all alright, that would be enough. been feeling that for a while now, but tonight it's waterworks and all.

i really can't afford to be homesick right now, i have a deadline to catch.

i hope it's all hormones and tomorrow it will be gone.

A New Kind of Sad (maybe an old person kind of sad)

Don't ask why i'm still not asleep.

and also, don't ask why i was looking at my blog posts from 6 years back. I just scrolled through them, not wanting to read any. I saw pictures. pictures of myself, pictures of people.

but among all pictures - like the ones when i had my dream bod loool but laughable face lololol - the pictures which evoked the most emotions were of my nephew, ikmal. or known as malmal, here, some years ago. malmal was popular on this blog :')

it has been years since i put on his photos. because he's a big boy now. he's already in school. the bigger he gets, the more different he becomes. not the chubby boy i used to gomol all the time. when he was little he was so bubbly, babbling with his ayu, now he's shy and hard to talk to. we were close. now it's hard for me to get him to talk, for anyone even. i admit i started paying less attention to him, and more to his little brothers. i feel so bad now. ayu has grown up too, apparently malmal, because ayu feels so bad for not treating you like she used to. but hey! you used to love me too!

ayu and opah always wonder what happened to you, because when you knew no word to say, you talked a lot. but now keep all your words in your mouth. is it because you were silent by kewan? is it because you have nobody at home to be your conversation buddy? ayah always complains about how you're so quiet, he must be worried. like me and opah. i have videos of you talking when you couldn't even talk you know...

now ayu gonna cry.

does ayu feel guilty? perhaps ayu should have talked to you more the few times she saw you, and should not have spent all her time playing with her new, bubbly, babbling, chubby nephews - your brothers. maybe if i did that you wouldn't have been so estranged with me... you liked me a lot you even slept with me, and cried whenever we had to part again, remember? but oh well, i didn't see you that much to make an impact did i... nonetheless maybe you would have liked it if i started some conversations with you. maybe i could - should - have done something differently.

i also feel sad, because seeing a kid's photos when they were little, and comparing it to who they are now.. so big and so different, makes me feel so sentimental... how much i loved them at that time, and now that they are big and different, i am indifferent... and somehow i think this is what my brothers must feel when they look at pictures of baby me. they used to cradle me, rock me in their arms, rush back from school to see me, talk to me on the telephone, write me letters, send me presents... they used to love me like that. 

and now, not anymore. none of that. i don't mind, honest. it's just sad, if this is what they feel every time they look at my old pictures, grin and say "you used to be cute." now we don't even talk like we must have done a long time ago. like i don't talk to ikmal anymore the way i once did. 

is it my fault too?

i've started to make efforts though... maybe that's just the way it is. and nothing is wrong with that.

but oh well, chances are they have never thought about any of this. because, well. guys.


and i should sleep.