The Chapter

These past two years in Shah Alam have been a roller coaster ride for me. I’ve learnt a lot of new things, academically and non-academically, made a lot of new friends, read a huge number of books, studied more Shakespeare than I’ve ever did before, known more about myself, but most importantly, getting ready for the most vital upcoming chapter of my life.

It’s the last day of 2013, and I have come to a realisation that separation is a bittersweet event. Why? Because I may not see all my IPG Kota Bharu friends for a long time. We’ve Gayarians have been with them for such a long time, and even though all of us might have made each other mad, or or crazy, or annoyed, one thing that is certain, in the end it’s the friendship and love among us that matter the most. I’m going to miss them all, but now, it’s time for me to lunge myself forward.

2014 will be the year where one thing will be imminent: the prospect of being a teacher. I have a fear of letting down myself and my students, but I don’t want to be pessimistic. This is a challenge that I must accept with open heart and mind and soul. I know I can do it, and I will prove it. Like what I’ve thought before, all things are coming to their rightful places and the reality starts to kick in. It’s going to be a ride of my lifetime.

But in the superior words of everyone who’s amazing on this Earth: Challenge Accepted!

The Creature

“There is a creature out there.”
and it comes
in nature invisible
it cuts the skin
crawls inside
makes a nest that grows
and grows and grows
“Make it die, make it die!”
but how can I make it die
I am raped to such intensity
my body is its temple
I am my own coffin
as long as the creature lives
“Let it out!”
let it out how so deeply
I want to let it all out yet
my flesh feels like a fence
keeping it in
keeping everything else out
lives still lives still
my Heaven
I’m buried in my made-hell
I’m buried and I’m so scared
the creatures lives still
in light and devours away
even the dimmest glimmer
I have
hopeless a beggar
for a monster
“Alone and scared.”
only the creature keeps me
company

The Days After

I used to believe that everything would be okay when I reached adulthood. All those days of bitter fights, bullying, mistrust, and self-pity that used to linger when I was small would vanish. I used to believe that my weaknesses would fade away, only to be replaced by a stronger me. No one would come and knock me down again.

How wrong I was.

There are days abound when I am feeling like I’m being trampled on, and these days happen not just because of the acts of other people, but the worse impacts come from my own wearied, self, wearied heart, wearied mind.

Scars that are visible on the surface are still tame whet they are laid side by side with the cracks that tear open the heart and confuse the mind. Other people’s words are far dangerous missiles than fists or kicks. Words are invisible bullets piercing so deep, and sometimes get embedded for the rest of one’s life. Paralysing you, that may happen.

I just sometimes want to hide from everything. Fighting is not an option because in the end, I don’t care about the words anymore. I realize that being an adult doesn’t magically erect a barrier that stoppers me from faults, self-hatred.

We grow, and we got hurt. Oftentimes, too many hurtful things close our hearts and we start the cycle of hurt to other people. The days of childhood, when a fortress built with pillows seemed impenetrable from the enemies, when a field was an entire world. When colour pencils were the wands that change our thoughts into realities, those days are all but over, only to be bitterly replaced with something we all can live without.

Something that we could live without, or is it something that we can’t really live without? Maybe that depends on which side you’re going to: the left or the right. Maybe, those childhood days are still waiting to be alive again.

The Tunnel

Empty, void of noises, the air choking, not nourishing, almost like a dusty tunnel only dimly lit by the ceiling lights. I think that fits the situation of my soul. I look at both ends of the tunnel. Nothingness. I wander aimlessly, with my hands touching the filthy wall. I’m lost. Anywhere I turn, I only see desolation, the horizon seems to far. I don’t even have the might to run. Have I lost my faith? Have I lost the belief that I can get myself on the right track?

I know one thing: I am ruined. So ruined that I don’t even know how to get the scattering pieces and build myself again, all body, mind, and soul. I destroyed myself and I continue doing it with every action that I take. I let myself to dream on false wishes, wishes that only serve to destruct my soul. I don’t try to be better. I am losing faith on everything that I used to believe.

I just want to run, run away from this tunnel I’m living in, break free from the chains weighing me down. I am afraid of the darkness. It seems to be never-ending. I can see a faint ray of light at the end of the blackness, but I can’t reach it. Why can’t I reach it? Is it because it’s too far or simply, I don’t want to chase it? That’s the reason, perhaps. I want to change, but I make myself weak. I tell my mind “Don’t do it. You’re already destroyed. Nothing can change you.”

I play pretend. I am still pretending. Somehow, I don’t think I’ll ever leave this place.

Northern States' Trip

Hey ya’!

It’s been a long time and I’m already in Week 8 of my sixth semester. Two months left before going back to Sabah. How time flies. Anyway, I had a really fun time during my holiday a few weeks ago. My friends – Ajit, Jace, and Zell – and I went to Kedah [that includes Langkawi] for five days and also spent an entire day in Penang. We went there [Alor Setar to be precise] because we wanted to complete two assignments for two different subjects, but hey, since we were in Kedah, might as well we crossed the sea and enjoyed what Langkawi has to offer. By the way, that was my second time to Langkawi. The first time I went there was when I was like 2 years old.

So, where did I go? Lemme remember… Sultan Ahmad Shah College [that’s for our assignment really, but the school was so colonially cool!], a couple of historic places in Alor Setar, Paddy Museum, National Science Centre Northern Region Branch, Mount Mat Chinchang [Cable Car of course!], Langkawi Wildlife Park, Pasir Hitam and Cenang Beaches, island hopping in Beras Basah, Singa, and Dayang Bunting Island, Kek Lok Si Temple, Penang Hill, Fort Cornwallis, ate ABC at the famous Penang Road Teochew Penang Chendul, and took the ferry ride [also for the second time in my life].

Here are some photos of our trip!

In front of the main (colonial era) building of Sultan Abdul Hamid College.

Sultan Abdul Hamid College in Alor Setar, Kedah was built in 1908. I love the colonial architecture of this school. 

Balai Nobat is where they keep the Nobat musical instruments when they are not in used. The instruments are mostly used during Royal ceremonies. 

On top of Mount Mat Chinchang, Langkawi. The cable car ride was so exhilarating! 

 A pier made from coconut trunks and pieces of wood at Pantai Pasir Hitam.

Island hopping in Langkawi. Here, the boat was approaching the mythical Dayang Bunting Island. 

Dayang Bunting Island's hills. 

 The symbol of Langkawi, the majestic statue of the Brahminy Kite at Eagle Square.

 The pylons of Penang Bridge. I love the long ride over the strait on the bridge.

Deliciously sweet ais kacang from the famous Penang Road Teochew Chendul Restaurant.

A Bottle

If I could bottle
my thoughts
the ones
stripping down
to the core
the ones
in my Pandora’s Box
those that I fear
those that I adore
thoughts conceived
during the strangest
of mornings
the loveliest
of nights
would they shine like
a millions stars
engulfing life
in lights that span
a universe’s length
or would they dim
what little shine
I strive to keep

Over

Forgiving is one thing, forgetting it is another.

We know that the only way to achieve total peace is to just leave the matter that disrupts us behind and never to talk about it again, but sometimes, that thing is actually a predicament that we can’t let go. Why? If there’s one reason, it’s because that thing has fucked us a lot that we cannot bear to let it go lest we would forget the terrible event and make it happen again. We want to make amends with everyone else but the incident keeps on replaying, and we’re left thinking, “should I let my guard down?” Should we?

Sometimes, there are small problems that are caused by our own faults. I know that we are born with innate ability to defence ourselves, but there are moments when we need to just acknowledge the issues arising, I mean things can occur due to our misguided minds, but such small matters can be forgotten all so quickly, unless the people involved in the arguments create a big deal out of them and constantly remind us of those stuff. It’s the big matter that stoops us. We can’t even see the end properly sometimes and continue to just be wary of our surrounding, bracing ourselves for signs that may tell us whether it will struck us again, maybe even harder this time.

It’s hard to live that way. It’s hard not believing other people.

Bazinga!

Hylô a sut wyt ti'n gwnead?

I went to Seremban, the capital city of Negeri Sembilan for the first time to meet my lecturer from Institut Pendidikan Guru Kampus Gaya (Institute of Teacher Education Gaya Kampus), the beloved Mdm. Sharifah Mazni. We brought along Rachel and Ilanggo. I really miss both of them, so it was really awesome to be with them even for just two days.

We were in the same class during the foundation in IPGaya, but because my class is twinned with Universiti Teknologi MARA (MARA University of Technology) for the TESL Degree Programme, they couldn't make it because of that one reason. At least, they can still do it in Universiti Kebangsaan Malaysia (The National University of Malaysia). Bangi and Shah Alam are not that far... well, it will take three hours if we travel with KTM Komuter. Haha~

Speaking about KTM Komuter, we did travel to Seremban riding one... oh wait, two actually, a 45-minute ride from Shah Alam to KL Sentral, and then another 75-minute from KL Sentral to Seremban. I like riding trains, so that was not really a problem. Haha~ The funny thing is, all of us ran frantically twice that day just to catch the trains, one heading to Seremban, and another one heading back to KL Sentral from Seremban. Guess what, that Malay idiom, 'a banana tree doesn't bear fruit twice' (I'm so not sure if this is a good translation) apparently was not heeded by all of us, and because I don't really exercise, it got the better of me... it was such a fatiguing incident. Bwahaha~

Anyway, besides getting to eat delicious dishes that Madam Shamaz cooked, we also discussed about some serious matters, one of them about our schools for Practicum. All of us will go back to Sabah next year, and we are obligated to be practicum teachers (teachers-in-practice?) for three months. Hamy, my friend, and I, hopefully, will be teaching at SMK Taman Tun Fuad. Four months away and I am already feeling the pressure, but I know I can do it.

Ok, so that's all for tonight.

Diolch i chi!

Unfinished

The boy watched a film
and saw the girl
and the boy in it
holding hands
he knew it was
only an act but
he wondered
always if that could
be emulated
into his own reality
maybe holding the
hand of the girl
he loved
perhaps under a
pinkish flowery tree
perhaps when it was
raining heavily
perhaps with the sea waves
as the soundtrack
but he knew
the world was
a stage he dared
not to direct
and the girl
he loved was
left out from the script
the boy only wanted
their hands
to be in unison
but the feelings
he had
only left a heart
beating asunder
the end

Blargh!

Since this blog lacks me selfie. Haha~ [Sorry]

In one way, I can’t wait to go back to Shah Alam, but I know, I’ll miss Terengganu [and the holiday… haha~]

Here’s hoping that Part 6 will be awesomesauce!

[Music alert: Coldplay’s Atlas is really great!!!]

The Sides

Isn’t it weird that on so many times, we find ourselves encouraging other people that they are okay, they are pretty, their life is good, things will be alright, and other positive things, but when it comes to ourselves, we don’t feel that way… we think that in so many aspects, we are imperfect.

Frankly speaking, no one is perfect, but no one is that defected either. It’s just that we are surrounded by a community that expects everything to be beautiful, and great, and ideal, that we are forced to think that if we don’t achieve the expectations, we are not good enough.

Besides, we, most of the times, look so highly upon other people that we forget that everyone comes with flaws and strengths. We don’t think that our strengths are something to be proud of. We tend to look on the other side of the fence, seeing that what everyone else can do and has are much better.

Of course, to say that you’re the best in what you do is somewhat cocky… but I don’t think it’s wrong to make yourselves believe that what you have and who you are generally are the reasons for you to be happy. You can use other people as a standard to gauge your achievements and aspire to be as successful as they are, but never overdo your judgment. It’s not a good thing to start planting the conviction that you’re not good, or beautiful, or not what others want to have.

[Nameless]

I said “leave!”
it wouldn’t leave
I said “go!”
it wouldn’t go
and it has stayed
ever since
it has made
a home out
of my core
it has created
a million wounds
no, sir, not on the
exterior (they will fade and
the pain is momentary)
the wounds are
inflicted on the surface
of my pulsating heart
corporeal, tangible
if only each beat could
erase one scar
I want to ask it
“Why are you
telling me to
miss someone
who is never mine
to begin with?”
I wonder if it
would say
“Do you want
me to be all bottled
up?”
I wonder
whether having it
is better than to have none

I Am Now A SIXER!!!

Ahhh, the joy of being a Sixer [well, almost]… I spent like 10 times trying to get the timetables correct for both Group A and B… the heck with that? Now, stop the negativity, let’s start with love.

Part 6 a.k.a. Semester 6 will begin real soon, and I say, I am so pumped for it, okay, pumped and scared too because of the certain courses and certain lecturers [tell me who doesn’t?], but yeah, being a Sixer is a new adventure.

In fact, it’s the last semester for me here in Shah Alam. Next year, I’ll be flying back to IPGaya, KK, Sabah. I guess I am going to miss this place, but hey, I have five months left here, so, I better enjoy it [enjoy and study, I know!]

Anyway, here are the courses that I take for P6:

Methodology of Teaching Writing

The final Methodology course, and this time it deals with writing, how writing works, and how should we teach English writing to the students. Microteaching is inevitable. Haha~

Second Language Acquisition

As you all know, English is the second language of this country population, so we need to learn how humans acquire the knowledge and function with a second language.

Asian Literature

I don’t read a lot of Asian novels or such, so I guess this will be good to increase my understanding of the things that differentiate Asian literature from the rest. It’ll be good for my reading too, perhaps, I’ll pick up a lot of Asian novels after this.

Introduction to Shakespeare

Hi, it’s really nice to meet you again Shakespeare. Well, you get the idea, Shakey’s dramas and poems… and we’ll be staging a theatre too. Hooo~

Basic Data Analysis

As far as I know, it involves counting, one of my weaknesses… and it involves computers. What gives?

Classroom Management + Co-curriculum Management

I guess these two teach us on how to manage students in class and outside the class?

So, cheers to me for being a SIXER!!!

(Fell)

I let what I dreamt
of you hardened
into fragile crystals
lovely made
but I knew
how wildly they would
shatter and
become sharp razors
shredding me
as they plunge
into the core
(it did)
stitches and scars
are not what I
intended to
exist here
(the one and only)

How Waters Behave

After the thunderous
sounds the
sky lets the
droplets gravitate
towards the
river moving
still so slowly
the soft sound
as the drips hit
the surface
similar to
an analogue noise
the river merges
with the sea
waves on
the shore
the movements
ethereal they
rise and fall
like a human
breathing
seamless
never-ending

Spectrum Heart

The boy’s
heart
split                apart
doesn’t shine
with the
seven
colours of
the spectrum
he wastes too much
light
and forgets
to safeguard some
for the time
when his skin
is touched
no more
and his name
invisible to
the lips of
the others
and he
even loses
the sight
to see the
dark
no more

Pain

Dealing with pain is a hard thing, and I don’t mean physical kinds of pain. What I mean are those that are related to the heart. They come in every form you can imagine, and in many cases, they happen just because you are fighting the single worst enemy: yourself.

Aches that come in various ways: you suffer from bodily-related issues, self-esteem problems, or relationships, or sexuality, anything. The outcomes of those pains emerge in multitude of forms, visible scars, tears that are shed every night, anger, frustration, the feel of incompleteness.

More often than not, you will have people saying that they understand what you are dealing with. The truth is they don’t unless they walk in your shoes. Do they really comprehend the magnitude of the hurt that you suffer?

One bad thing that can happen is that they compare your pain with their own pain as if both are paintings in a museum. They say what you are going through is less severe or vicious that what they have experienced. The point here is, you should never judge the scale of the damage that one person has incurred based on your own. Do not ever mock someone pain, more so if you have never endured that kind of pain before. No one should feel that their problems are not of anyone’s concerned. No one should be made to feel that they don’t have the place to share their feelings and be left alone.

If there’s one thing, people may not understand, but at the very least, they are there to go through it with you, and that can take a long time, years maybe, a lifetime perhaps, but if they are there, ready to listen, ready to talk, and they believe in you, that lessens the ache. You have someone who is apt to share any happiness that you have later on.

Sometime, what people need is just love after all.

The Notebook

This is a custom handmade notebook created by my friend, Zell. She has this wonderful online handmade book shop where you can buy beautiful books that are… uhhh well… handmade. Anyway, those of you who fancy having your own design will surely love the shop as there are various fabric and paper patterns and laces, ribbons, and buttons you can choose from. The prices are pretty reasonable. With postage, the books cost around RM10-20.

The shop is I Write Amour, and if you want to take a look, THIS is the Blogspot, and THIS is the Instagram page.

[Zell, I love this!!!]

The Ones Who Never Cried

The ones who have never cried thought that they are strong. The ones who have never cried think that they could reassemble themselves easily after a disaster struck. The ones who have never cried think that shedding tears means that they have succumbed to their enemies.

The one who have never cried know how wrong they are. Crying is never a sign of weakness. Crying is not a loophole in the creation of human. Crying is human. Crying is an indispensable part of living. You cried when you were born. It’s a sign that you’re alive. To be a person means to acknowledge that at any given moment in your life, you will encounter someone or something that when they break your heart, you know that keeping all those feelings inside will only make you suffer more. We are not machines with automated controllers. We cannot control what we feel all the time. Let them go, let them go. Even if things will not be okay in a short time, at least you let the part of it out of your system.

The irony is, the creatures who cry the most are the ones who said that crying is the biggest flaw in life.

Pretend

10^th of March

It feels like I am walking and walking and walking without an end, or if an end does exist, it will be a deep precipice with jagged sides. I am lost in my thoughts about you. I know, I know. I am wasting too many minutes of life thinking about you and you and you.

It’s unhealthy.

I still have this feeling that I should have remove from my inside and thrown far over the bridge years ago. Why do I keep thinking that everything will be alright? The fact that I adore you so much will never mean anything to you since I am the only person who feels that way, and I will never have the chance to make you mine. You are oblivious of this very fact.

I can’t call this love can I? Love needs two people to exist.

Sometimes, I think about you, and I over think. In fact, from my last period of thinking, I’ve came up with two things:

Number one: ignoring the fact that you will never be mine, do I deserve you? You are always my shining beacon. I see your everything and I can’t let them out of my mind. I smile each time I see the letters that make up your name, but then I realise that I’m not as good as anyone else in so many facets. I’m less than half as good as you. You seem to know the things that I long to know, to have, but I’ve never forced myself to acquire. I will never deserve someone who is as good as you, and it kills me a little.

Number two: do I fall in love with you as a whole, or only the part of you that I first saw? What if I only fall in love with the way you say my name or the way you look me in the eyes or the smile that only you can make? Is it really love? What if it is just lust? What if my mind omits my memories of you once you are gone, never to be seen again? Is that love or lust? That kills me a little.

Anyway, I am not supposed to have this. I have to pretend that we are nothing but friends.

That kills me a lot.

And still I hope this will turn alright.

Write

I have not been writing a lot these days. I should begin to write, write more. Writing is the only way for me to get my feelings across, even if it’s vague, even if it’s bad, even if the words are disjointed at different places.

I am not a person who vents a lot. I keep too many things to myself, but I can’t keep all of them in my mind. I want and I always change them into the forms of letters. Every time I write, my mind flies to another dimension, so to speak. I will focus and focus on what I write until I am satisfied, and by being satisfied, I mean that what I’ve written is the less awful version of so many drafts.

I write because that makes me believe that I am less incomplete, less imperfect. I write because seeing black ink on sheets after sheets of paper or black digitised form of letter on the screen tells me that I can actually do something and do it without feeling that I am inferior to anyone else. I see the letters dance and form words that later creates strands and strands of sentences.

I write.

Happy Hari Raya!!!

A Painter

Let me paint you
with a thousand colours
known and unknown
there upon your skin
a million movements
not unlike the Fibonacci
sequence carefully drawn
there upon your skin

My Heart is a Ghost Town

My heart is a ghost town
maybe not a real ghost town
for I am living there
quietly waiting
quietly in all loneliness
quietly waiting
for you to come
arriving
and start making
this place whole again
water the soil
make me alive
bury the seeds
that will grow
into beautiful blooms
and we’ll capture the
spring air in the form
of lyrics
but now
my heart is still empty
a ghost town of sorts.

Cielo

I hear a choir
heavenly sweet
song telling me
I could have
created wings
but the
Achilles’ heart
in me is
earthly crammed
tied all alone
tethered to
the ground

Ahahaha... NO!

I think it’s quite hard to give your own opinions nowadays right? You share your beliefs and people will just look at you like hungry wolves and shoot things straight at your head without even blinking. People are entitled to give their own views about things. That’s how the world should roll. Discussion leads to something beneficial for everyone, but no, if they like something, they just got to defend it as what they like is sacred. Others cannot say anything bad about it. Your honest opinions are like annoying mosquitoes during the summertime.

Like really people?

I guess if people are being a dickhead about what they are saying and start to mock and ridicule the thing that you like and say stuff that is not true, yes, then you have a right to defend it, but still, you must look what they say first. There are two sides on a coin. You may only look at your preferred side and abandon the other just because you don’t desire it. You propagate the thing that you like and trust it without ever judging whether it is a truth or not. What if, even if it is said in such an unfathomable, jerk-ish ways, they’re actually true? Do you still think that you should shield what you like with burning enthusiasm and face embarrassment?

We should just learn to review and understand the things that people are saying. It will never be as bad as it seems. At least by knowing other people’s judgments, you will know whether to choose the good or the bad.

Did I even try?

My current attitude!
That pretty much sucks actually!

Dear Friend

So, this is actually the essay that I wrote for my Creative Writing’s final quiz. I got 30/30. That is truly unexpected really haha. Anyway, if you’ve read The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky, then you know that the format of this writing is based on it. It is known as Epistolary [in the form of letters]. Anyway, I hope you’ll enjoy it.

Dear friend,

I am writing this letter for you from somewhere that is geographically close. You don’t have to search for me because I will remain anonymous throughout this and the subsequent letters that I may send to you.

So I choose to write to you because you seem to be one attentive listener. I hope you’ll be attentive too when you read my rants. It’s not going to be long. Okay, what do you feel about your life? Sometimes I feel like life has been so unfair towards me. I don’t know why, but I look at other people and they have bless-fully blissful lives. Throughout my existence, I feel empty. I am just a shell. I don’t know what I am supposed to feel, like I am shut from all those emotions. Maybe I do feel sad, and by being so alone, it makes me much more of a loner. I go into my room, locked the door, and just lie on my bed from the sun-up until the sun goes down. I’m so anti on going outside. I’m a mess, am I not? I don’t care about the world. I’m indeed a mess.

15^th February 2000

With love.

Dear friend,

A few days ago, my mom introduced me to her friend, this pretty young executive at the office where she works. I don’t want to talk about her. I want to talk about her son. He’s such a beautiful boy, if you could call a boy as beautiful, but he is. We chatted a bit, and then it turned into a long conversation.

I change, friend, I change. I go to his house now. We spend time in his room always. There are lots of books and sporting equipments and stuff. He told me he loves to read poems and such. I’m currently reading one of his favourite books. The book is wonderful. I love everything, even the smell of it. I know I’m a weirdo.

Anyway, I have to cut this short. He’s downstairs now. We are going for rock climbing. Can you believe it?

25^th February 2000

With Love.

Dear friend,

Have you ever felt like something is wrong with your heart? Like at any given moment, it can just burst out from your skin into the open? I am feeling that way now. My heart is beating uncontrollably, like someone is driving a train too fast.

You know, I feel like that each time I go out with the boy. I feel that way even when I am not with him. When I’m with him, I can’t turn my face away. My eyes are stuck on his like glue. I can watch him 24/7/366 (it’s a leap year now). I love the way his mouth forms this cute crescent moon shape every time he feels happy. When he laughs, his laughter feels like a beautiful piece of music. I listen to all his conversations. I hang on to all of his syllables, all his words as if my existence is tethered to what he is saying. Everything about him, oh, everything about him, I am so in love with everything about him. I think I’m a freak. There was this one time when we were on a train, he dozed off and accidentally placed his head on my shoulder. My mind was suddenly void of thoughts. Only empty space existed. I never felt like that before. It felt right and wrong. Friend, what is happening to me? I want this to stop. I want to run away.

10^th April 2000

With Love.

Dear friend,

I think I’m in love with him.

12^th April 2000

With Love.

Dear friend,

I did something terrible. Something that I wish I could pull back. I confessed to him. I did, I did, and I regretted it. His smile faded a little when I told him that. I’ve unknowingly created a distance between him and me. He said he just wanted to be friends but I know he felt betrayed. What we had was friendship, but now it’s gone. We’re not as close as before. No, he is not the one who is betrayed. It’s me. Why when I’ve found someone like him, it will always be shattered in the end? My life doesn’t have any silver linings. Oh God, I can still see his face. Why did I put false hopes on hi? I should have guessed, but the thing is, I still love him. Life is unfair. He can forget me. Why can’t I?

The worst is that someone heard me confessing to him, and now the whole school knows. People are calling me names and they play like a never-ending cassette player in my head. I want it to stop, just stop. I got booed, and people treated me like I’m a piece of rubbish. They said I should not exist, I should die.

Yes, I’m trash, I’m a disease, an awful disease. They don’t want a disease like me to walk around, do they? I may infect other kids around me. I’m not a decent human being just because I choose to love a guy rather than a girl. I’m half the human I used to be. They resent me. Teachers won’t do anything. My parents think I need psychological help. My mind is faulty. I’m just a machine with nowhere to go.

Friend, I’m not strong. I can’t live in a world where everyone can’t accept me. I can’t accept myself to live in a world where I’m alone. I cannot see his face, my parents’ faces, everyone’s. I’m a monster in the lives of every single person. Maybe I should just go. That is all, my dearest friend. Goodbye.

1^st June 2000

With Love.

The End of Five

I am back in my home state of Terengganu for a two-month holiday. Part 5 ended just days ago and I must say, P5 was absolutely the most challenging semester ever… with all the assignments, and the microteachings, and of course, that one little thing: THE PROPOSAL FOR ACADEMIC EXERCISE.

Of course, not all is bad during this semester. We had Creative Writing, a really great and fun creative course where we were required to write poems and stories. I love to write. Besides, I am actually the class representative for this subject. Haha. Applied Sociolinguistics is also interesting. Here we learnt about the relationship between languages and the society. I am pretty sure I will get high marks for this course. Hahaha~ And then, P5 was also the last semester where we had Japanese Language classes. I’m going to miss it a lot!

Other courses were not less than interesting too, but yeah, all courses had lots and lots of tasks, both written or presentations. The most demanding is AE Proposal. I stayed up until late at night for two days and nights straight just to finish it… hahahaha. The thing is, I am not a late-night person [at least in Shah Alam], and I tend to do my work early, but AE? It just got stuck at the end of the semester. I hope Dr. will accept my proposal.

How about my life? Well, it was quite good I guess? I finished lots of good novelson the first half of the year. Ohhh, I’ve a new-found love. EDM a.k.a. Electronic Dance Music! Haha~ Now, let’s hope for the best for Part 6! Hooyeahhhh!

Arigatō

 I had my last Japanese Language class a few weeks ago. I am really going to miss it. Japanese language is fun to learn.

We got to do three video projects where we were needed to use the language that we have learnt. It was fun filming all those videos. Japanese class was also always one of the classes that I looked forward to every week. We didn’t just learn the language, sensei also taught us about the Japanese culture and stuffs.

Domo arigatō gozaimasu sensei.

Winger and Dangerous Pie

Hi there!

It’s been a long time since I last wrote here. Life’s been quite busy. Anyway, here’re two really good books that you can read (if you want to that is).

Winger by Andrew Smith

A book that is filled with the complications of life and love of Ryan Dean West a.k.a. ‘Winger’ a.k.a. ‘Skinny-ass-loser’, a 14-year-old boy who plays rugby (hence the ‘Winger’) (rugby in USA! Who knows?) who is actually a junior in a high school. Of course, being a ‘kid’, life is tough, frustrating, and complicated. Ryan Dean thinks that he should change, and his junior year will be the best, although in contrary of his ambitious plan, he manages to throw himself into the O-Hall, the dorm for troublemakers, who are of course bigger than he is. What’s a boy to do? And then, he has a problem dealing with girls (and his feelings. He thinks all girls are hot! Nurses even!), especially Annie Altman. She’s a junior like West, but she’s two years older, and obviously, she won’t accept him, right? With the help of his friends, especially Sean and Joey, Ryan Dean rides the whirlwind known as life, fledgling but learning to be better (in his own ways) until a tragedy strikes. This novel features large number of cussing words, lots of really-long-sometimes-you-need-to-look-again-and-again-hyphenated-phrases, many (un-mathematical) graphs and awesome drawings, and too many usages of the word 'loser' but it is a book that promises to tickle our bones, make us all gross out during certain moments, and then punch us deep in the brain and the gut. It is a book that questions about life and what it means to live a life. It's funny, it's poignant, it's sweet, and it'll end with your heart broken into pieces.

Drums, Girls, & Dangerous Pie by Jordan Sonnenblick

Why drums? Drums are Steven’s (the main character) favourite’s music instrument and he’s good at it. How about girls? Well, because there are two main girls in his life, and they’re not even his girlfriends. Dangerous pie? That was an incident that happened between him and his cute little brother, Jeffrey. You think that this is the usual older-brother-younger-brother relationship novel? Think again. This novel depicts the life of Steven and his really teenager life. He laments the annoyance of his brother, and he laments that he cannot get the girl that he likes, and he laments the fact that he is neglected by his parents, well, due to his younger brother of course. It changes when turmoil comes and besieges his life in the form that Jeffrey becomes sick, like really sick. For a teenage guy like Steven, the scale of the tragedy and the impact that it blows into his family will make him think about all the choices that he will make. A disaster, he learns, is not a stopper in finding the best things that life can offer. And indeed, life is never a continuous cycle of good things, but do you have to forget yourself and focus on the bad things or change what you can change in yourself or the lives of others? Even with a rather bleak outlook, this novel will charm you with its humour and brilliance. Hysterical yet emotional, heart-warming and heart-breaking, you’ll root for both Steven and Jeffrey.

Easily said, I adore both of Winger and Dangerous Pie!