write your own history

How do you know what's your purpose here?
Do you make your own purposes?
Write your own history?
Be not a conformist to feel accepted.
Be not a slave to the people's whims.
Be not a pawn but to your soul.

I'm so sick of people who are nice only when they want something from you.
I'm so sick of people who can't make up their minds about the real things in life.
I'm so sick of people who can't think sensibly.
I'm so sick of people who refuse to understand because they insist on living in their happy world.
I'm so sick of people who choose to be ignorant.
I'm so sick of so many kinds of people.

Does it make me choosy? Arrogant? Bitchy? Do you think I'd care what you think?
Please.

Where'd it all go?
Where'd I go?
Lost my head again.

I'm willingly losing myself to the darker side of music therapy again.
Its so much more comfortable to be gashed wide open, just to feel what's real and what's not. Its bloody. Damn right. But its truth. Isn't that what we all want? Need?

So tired of this sh*t. You know what they say about mentally mature teens. They brood. They slit their wrists. They're anti-social geniuses. They think they know everything when they don't. They can't get along with their peers. Their lives are so f*cked up. Its all about them, me me me. In truth, its not.

Not always, anyway. Its empathy. Its for the children who suffer. Its for the homeless. Its for the effing job presidents do. Its for the dying. Its for the dead. Its for the living. Its for the disappearing act.

One day, we should have a congregation of some sort. See us together as one. Then the world will really know our numbers. Our thoughts. They mean something. Could be everything. Could be nothing. But they mean something, at some point.

Am I spouting trash? Don't mean any sense to you?

I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care.I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care.

Not ever.

I am what I am. My existence is obviously approved by the Almighty. Otherwise I wouldn't be here to vent now, would I.

f*ckness

these few days, are bad days.

emotionally distraught, because of chickenbrained people.

freaking blur, because of irregular sleep/insomnia.

damned pissed, because i still think im stupid at vectors.
sad and somber, because a friend is in mourning.
worried and helpless, because my grandmother is sick. [blardy people insist on telling her stuff, shitty HARIHSOTH OPTUW$_T&Q#)_^Y#$TN PGU#_$)^T_#]
worried, because I've still got a month to go for the exams.
worried and angry and sad, because everything is blardy sucky.

why why why why why why why why why why why why why why???

eff it all.

sorry bobo. happy 21st. wish i was there to bug you. well, i'm there in spirit!

Turned 18

18-ish anyway. haha. had a lil dinner party at excapade. *Qin, i know you were there in spirit. wakakakaka*




I also got awesome gifts from me chumps. thanks yall ^^ i really do luv em.

Haiz. 18. heh. dunno what to think abt that.

All i know, is, i really wana raya with my friends. huhuhuhuhuhuhuhu. maaf zahir batin. =(

18 candles

Happy 18th, Nana.

Two chewy sweets & a thesis.

Life has ended and begun for me.

How do I even start explaining?

Once again, I feel like I've just been emotionally punched in the gut.

Caught unawares.

Finally it is all over. Finally I can breathe.

No more dusty books and the sneaky papercuts.

No more late nights in the murky realms of MS word.

No more mental moments of sudden, lucid inspiration.

I

am

so

drained

I didn't expect this throat-clenching, quietly-terrifying, knuckle-grawing moment of not wanting to let go of

my sweat and tears,

my life for the past year.

I didn't expect to be so dazed about handing in a bunch of papers.

But deep down, they're not just any moldy old notes scribbled in a hurry.

They're mine, in almost every way possible.

I'm mental about my work, who would've thought?

Time to let go and get on with the next episode.

Work,

backpacking,

manual driving,

hot sun -

here I come.

just realized

where'd fred durst and his NY cap go?

anyway.

i rediscovered my emo side in linkin park and limp bizkit. yeh baby. all the profanities and angst are just right for this particular period in life. *lesson to kids all around: don't take A levels unless u wanna live like a hermit for 2 years of ur teenage life*

then i listened to My Generation by LB. aside from all the profanities, he's askin the right question? do you give a damn about my/our generation?? what happened to the focus? gone gone. its all on terrorism and wars and the stockmarket. who's gna bomb who first. who's got the better guns. who's got the faster missiles. who's got the poorest and most vulnerable villages/town/cities.

we forgot.

remember when people used to invest in our future? ideallistic it is, but existent nevertheless. not so much anymore. we're living in a bullet-ridden world, my friends. i heard this stat before, that we have enough bullets to shoot every single person on earth twice. that much huh.

who gives a damn about us? who?

bliss in midnight silence

I've forgotten how peaceful it is at the witching hour.

Everyone sleeping.
Everything quiet.

Just the hum of machines that keep the world on standby.
For the next busy morning.




I've been looking for this. This sense of peace.
This escape.
Mine only.



Don't you wish for more sometimes?
For the unexpected little treasures?

I miss that.
Strolling on a beach. Find a smile in the footprints of a child.
Find a soul in the warmth of the sun.

Blindness and deafness even.
Grief and desperation.
Frustration.
Acceptance.
Moving on.

I'm not at peace with myself.
Not yet.
Still looking.
People should too.
Find peace with themselves.



Hello.
Its me, the personality you forgot?
Its ok. I forgive you.
Lets be friends again.



Its alright to talk yourself, you know.
Its better to hear your mind speak.
Make it real.
You don't want voices cooped up in your head.
Not healthy.
No no.

I don't know for how long I can keep this up.
I'm already tired.
I need new air.
I'm sinking again.
I need new air.

Where?
Soon?
Please.

Thank you.

hmph

testing testing. cbkns.

1000 pieces

Took me less than 2 months to finish. Pretty, huh?

passing

Life has come to terms with me. Nothing will be the way it used to be anymore. See those two? Yeah. Sweet huh? Look at them looking at me. You. Me. They don't worry about me anymore. They don't have to.

Not anymore.

I'm turning eighteen next week. Doesn't feel that exciting though. Just feels like impending doom and hardship. Its a bittersweet moment, because you can't always turn to your parents for simple solutions anymore. And then, its also comforting to finally know that your parents trust you enough and have started to let you go. Be on your own and do what you want.

I'm only worried about the fact that its my turn to worry about them. Already worried that I'll be worried. Awesome pun.

This past week has been another mentally-changing phase. Matured a few more degrees. Sometimes I don't know whether to laugh or cry, that I'm getting further and further away from simplicity and childish thoughts. To quote, the mind is supposed to be so disembodied. Well, of course on the outside, I laugh it off. I'll weep only on the inside.

You know what else is changing at this point?

Everything, but the world.

Sometimes I don't know what is so difficult about accepting changes and differences. Its not going to go away. Why make yourself distressed that way? Why muddle yourself with the little disturbances? Sure, its the details that make life interesting, but sometimes, details are insignificant.

Like you and me. Sometimes we are insignificant.

So, why bother with the changes, huh?

And philosophy. Why bother. Geez.

hahaha. Someday, my little thoughts will make sense.

Who I Am

I am not my hair, my eyes, my nose or my mouth. I am not my skin nor the shape of any body parts. I am not my IQ.I am not the sound of my voice nor the volume of my laughter. I am not my strengths nor any of my weaknesses. I am not the level of my skills.

The temple of my physical makeup is a culmination of genetics. It reveals nothing about the person who resides within. I take no credit and point no blame for the way I look. My temple is perfect, as is.This body is not who I am. It is an exquisitely perfect dwelling for my soul. Everything about it is exactly as it should be. No other, anywhere, ever, could serve my soul as well.I am not anything you can see with your eyes or touch with your hands. Should you judge me by that criteria, you will never know me.

I am not a dumping ground for biases based on a man-made standard, and I do not accept the prejudice such biases create.
I am a union of body, mind and spirit, a trio, not a solo.
To know me, is to know yourself.

Those who hear the voice of their soul, recognize the song in mine. They do not stop at the front door and judge me by the dwelling in which I reside. With a humble sense of honor, they knock upon the door and ask to come in.

The judgment of others does not change who I am. Quite the opposite is true. It reveals who they are. Those who deem me unworthy at a glance and pass me by, have my blessing to keep walking, for they have a long way to go. They have not reached the point where they are able to see and appreciate me for who I am.

I will accept no less.


(Who I Am by Terri McPherson)

affection

affection by frixin

I don't know. Its kinda hard for me, you know? Have faith. Have patience.

hot damn

@@ You've gotta love this performance.

latest addictions: the killers' sam's town n JT's futuresex.lovesounds

Trust me they're awesome.

hands

Hands by altzenderkhrist

I realized I have a fetish with hands and feet. They just look really really good in photos. They tell the story better than other subjects.

I've been finding it difficult to write lately. I was totally wrung out by having to write personal essays for the uni apps. And it was just one of the many I have yet to write. What's so interesting about my life? What did I overcome? What's so special about me? On and on about self analysis. I'm sick of analyzing myself and my life. Its like I've squeezed my life dry just to put it down on paper. Its not that I don't enjoy writing anymore. I just don't know what else to write.

Then I remembered that art saves.

P630 by zenclub

Funny really. It took me awhile to remember my roots of inspiration. Its a sign that I need to start deviating again. I haven't done any in a long long time. Haven't been seeing much worth capturing.

That's what's been bugging me lately. I haven't seeing much worth capturing. Where'd art go in this world? What did I lose sight of? Enough questions with no answers. All I need to do is remember.

Happy Feet by TheGlassPirate

There's so much more to remember. And they're just out of reach. Its a bit disgruntling. Almost there, but not quite. I can feel that I'm the verge of something big. Radically inspiring. Just. Not. Bloody. Quite.

Hands by XxPantherNovaXx

Someday I might make a book. Publish all my little thoughts. The inspiring ones. Maybe. Maybe not.

I need to get back to my writing.

Married/Pregnant/Pregnant-Again

I was having a chitchat with a girlfriend back home and was gobsmacked when she told me that at least 8 people I know from highschool are either getting married/pregnant/pregnant again.

I'm so very happy for them and at the same time, I'm so very shocked. This sort of news never fails to shock me although I should be desensitized to it by now. I suppose I just grew up with a different mentality drummed into my consciousness since I was able to debate the virtues of having an extra hour of storybooks before beddybyetime with my parents. It's always the case of get your grades, get your degrees, secure yourself first...NOT...get engaged ASAP, get pregnant after college, get married...I'm sure these are all noble and worthwhile goals for some but it's just not my cuppa tea. Too much can happen in life to pardon any excuses of not exploring and establishing one's sense of self before making such a huge commitment.

I asked said girlfriend why their parents are so gung-ho about marrying off their kids and she said "Possibly to prevent them from commiting sins?" Jaw dropping and WTF's aside, I mentioned using contraceptives. But no it won't "prevent them from commiting sins" apparently. At least no one will be popping out babies in 9 months and worrying about the consequences. Sex is sex. That's the reality. It's a basic function of human life - one of the fundamentals according to Maslow's hierarchy of needs. But what does spirituality have to do with protecting yourself from STD's and the possiblity of conceiving a child when you're not ready or able to support it?

I just hate it when people use their genitalia to do their thinking.

I wonder how it feels to take a leisurely stroll in the rustic towns of Seria or KB and have former classmates come up to me with their tots and insist on them calling me Aunty. I'll be adjusting my big, shiny aviator sunnies one afternoon (while reading a Milan Kundera novel and sipping milo ping at my local kopitiam) and out of the blue, someone will be "Hi Aunty Nurzawani!" Imagine that at 21 *shudder* Barely out of puberty and onwards to motherhood. What next? Be a greatgrandmama at the grand old age of 54? I wouldn't lift an eyebrow at that. At the rate they're going, it's highly likely the country would reach its target population by next September. No disrespect.

It isn't as if I am opposed to marrying young or marrying to save the family's face (ever heard of shotgun marriages?). There's perfectly valid and acceptable reasons for marrying young but to do so just to (spiritually) legitimize getting jiggy with your college classmate is rats***. And for tradition and culture to condone these occurrences in this era, it is almost beyond belief but hey, that's tradition and culture for you.

I cannot begin to describe the dread inside me as I contemplate my stay back home after this year. Mark my words, it is just a matter of time before my parents' friends and everyone else will start asking when my time would come. I freely admit I am way to immature and unprepared for any of this. I want to be selfish and live my life first. I've seen too many destructive relationships to think/know otherwise.

I suppose I will also have to put up with snide remarks from traditional folks back home regarding my popularity with the opposite sex. Maybe it's because I'm not feminine enough, maybe it's because I'm too opinionated, not soft-spoken enough, not Malay enough, not Chinese enough...I will have to of course, aim a look of cold disdain at them and brush off their opinions as if it were some mere, inconsequential lint.

Nonetheless, the thought of having some well meaning elderly family friend wiggle their eyebrows and go "Your turn next huh?" is giving me the heebie-jeebies.

morose

how can things be so exciting, depressing and inspiring all at the same time?
it just feels like time is slipping through my fingers before i can even feel it in my hands.
all i want to do is lie down and forget the world.
in the midst of all the expected chaos.
i'm willing to be stuck in a moment.
i'm willing to take the risk of losing more time.
i'm willing to lose more than i'm going to.
just for a moment, to be ageless.

i don't want to be an adult.
i don't want to be responsible.
i don't want to make life changing decisions.
i don't want any of that.

i'm not confused.
i'm just weary.
i'm just speculating.
i'm bracing my self for the future.
i'm also finding it hard to say goodbye to everything my past holds.

i might forget this side of me once i move on.
even with compatriots, its still lonely at the end of the day.

what belief am i holding on to?
what kind of trust is this?
what am i going to be satisfied with?

find me gravity.
keep me where the light is.

changing

again.
we're changing the scenery.
i'll have another memory after the next junction.
bitter. sweet. painful. cherished.
but this time i've got compatriots.

once last dance. derniere danse.
before i go and venture out into the big bad world.
before i leave your familiar faces.
before i leave my cracked and worn shell.
before i find a new home.

lets go for a drive.
i want to feel the wind one last time.
close my eyes and just breathe again.
soar.
soar.
soar.

one last time.
and the scene changes.

-pensive

It's hard for me to lose this life I've found. Uproot myself and make my way across the world. Settle into a new groove, make a new life. Nostalgia doesn't so much pull me down as the longing to simply be content with what I have. But it just isnt' time yet.

It's always been a case of shedding my skin now and then. Fit into a new one. New faces, places.

I can understand why some people don't understand this need to move around. What about settling here? What about your partner? Why don't you want to stay in such a nice place? It's not about me not caring enough or not appreciating enough - I just know I won't be completely sated with this. The world is bigger than us. I just want to taste a little more of it. Perhaps it is an altogether selfish motive but hey, live a little learn a little.

It's such an endless journey and after awhile, the soul feels a bit dusty and worn out.

It's not about being bigger and better. It's about carving out a niche in this life. I used to be uber-ambitious. But life happened. I'd rather be happy and just get by, though it will be hard in this increasingly materialistic world as opposed to slogging at a nine-to-fiver and own 15,000 Gucci bags and shoes. I love having stuff but they don't make me happy in the way being around the people I love make me happy.

I don't know how I'll live my life in the next 5 years. But I hope I live right anyway.

u bumbum

Just recently I went out quite frequently. Its a bit odd. Well yes because I'm mostly a hermit, but also because several things have changed.

• When I'm on the road I see familiar faces. My peers who already have driving licenses. My parents' friends. Acquaintances. People I just know by face. Its odd that I'll be on the road more often after this year.
• Brunei now has TRAFFIC! Yes! I mean it! We have finally enough people with cars to have traffic jams!
• I can't pretend to be 6 years old anymore. =( BUT I'VE GOT ME A PLAYSTATION AND TONNES OF GAMES, SO I CAN PRETEND TO BE 10 YEARS OLD!!!!
• I finally visited my old schools, and man, do I feel old. Like big sistah ah. Its just weird to realize your teachers aren't at all bigger than you or better than you. Heck, I don't like that vulnerable feeling. = =
• I went to the ramadhan tamu like for the first time in YEARS. So many bloody people. Guys in groups especially. What's up with that? o.O Yeh yeh I'm not a people person. I don't like crowds. wakakaka. They sell awesome n delicious smelling n looking kueh n fried cancerous meat though. Temptations temptations.

Enough for today. Bobo you bumbum. I'm finally done. wakakakakkaa.