: Damned

Fuck. Damn fuck. I went out this evening, thinking about having a kan of Koke before I got to the town and stopped at the bundle outlet. There must be new stuffs, I thought. And it was; I looked one by one and found many nice shirts that I thought would fit me. I went to the other row of shirts and found a FUBU jersey. It looked good with V-neck, the one like those of motorsport outfits, and I thought that it was better than the other - its material makes it last longer. I paid RM18 for that one and got home, ditching the thought of having Koke, thinking about the newly-bought stuff. I tried and I kouldn't even get my head through the neck. I squeezed myself in it and I was like wearing a korsette. DAMN. It'd looked like it'd fit me. But it didn't. I think I'll just go there again tomorrow and make a change.

p/s : I know I'm getting fatter. Or that I was never slim. [- -,]

: Refuelled

2008's RASD : Refuelled

Pure Darkness

It was minutes to midnight and I was in front of this komputer - home alone - when everything lost from my sight last night - a blackout. It was totally dark and I kouldn't see anything at all inside the house. I stumbled my way to the entrance door, hoping to see some light but it was still the blackness I found when I opened the door. I got outside, barefooted, on the road in front of the house and it was a hope; it was brighter outside. It was a good feeling to see how the sky seemed more enlightened despite of the dark houses beneath it. And it felt like I was the only one who was at that place - no one else had been in my sight. After what seemed like minutes passed, I got inside again and felt my way to the keys. I locked up the door and started my engine before riding it through the lightless night. I found out that the whole housing area went black, and half of the one north to mine. It was a disappointment; I'd been hoping that the whole town was in dark. I got home and my neighbour gave me a kandle and I lit up some more kandles I found in the house. It was hot - there was nothing to do than just standing outside there, looking at the sky. I finally decided to ride to the town and so I did. When I got home again my sisters were already there with a friend of theirs; they just got back from their friend's funeral who died of a road accident early that night. Another friend - whom later I found out is a brother to my friend - kame up and I just sat there listening to their konversation. It was about an hour later before a teknician kame up and fixed the problem at the elektrikal substation just beside the house beside mine. The lights went on and I got off to sleep.

Alternative Medikation

I didn't go to skool again today. I went to see a healer in Dungun - alternative medikation - to kure my eyes that have been sore for weeks. He said my problem's serious; it's no longer an allergy but is getting to be kancerous. I don't know what he meant by that but true; my eyes kan be very painful sometimes. He gave me two types of pills and I have to take it three times a day. And no seafood; not that I believed the pain was from it before, but never mind, I'll obey this time.

May there be a new chance of getting healed this time.

His Karnivorous Goats

Telling story is good, especially when you tell a story with good messages or morals. Stories like 'The Boy Who Kried Wolf', 'Alice In Wonderland', 'Alice In Disneyland', 'Jack Bean The Stalker' or even 'Alice Made Out With Jack In The Elf Kingdom', are good to be told. They're fun and entertaining. But the thing that's not good in telling a story is when the story is about others. We tell our friends a true story about another friend, or about other people, like 'How Ahmad's Marriage Ended' or 'Why Siti Doesn't Talk To Strangers'. And stories like these might tell that that someone is not good; this kan bring bad things, to us and others. Nasty thoughts okkur. Slanders rise. Misunderstandings and fights happen. And all that komes from our story. These things happen bekause there may be some of those whom the story is told that would misinterpret our story or it's the story itself that's told with bad intention that komes from us, the teller. And these people, who've misinterpreted it, might just tell other people the misinterpreted version and they would spread it. And eventually, it may happen that the last version we hear is kompletely different from the one we've told. Yes, words spread. People like talking. That is why we have to be responsible to what we tell people, and not spread anything we're not sure of its authenticity.

For me, I like the story 'Pak Mat And His Karnivorous Goats'.

GROUND FLOOR

People around me are already moving- no, maybe they've been moving forward since before, with their konsciousness over their future matter. It's not that I don't have it, but I'm just too heavy to move. Chained to the ground. I'm skared of it, and I hate that I'm skared of it and I hate the thing that I'm skared of. It's never beautiful- not in this partikular kase. They've made us believe that it's important and that it decides our life; death sentence for those who fail it. Those who succeed, go higher. Why does everyone have to go up there? What if I prefer to stay here, on the ground? Don't I deserve a life, whatever that would be? I see. That's the rule. Those on the ground are dirty. Worthless.

FUCK YOU, ALL OF YOU.

You Only Live Once

I've gone through the veil, to the outside of Ramadhan. It's been good. Yeah. I celebrated the firat day of Raya at Dungun. There was nothing much to do. People kame and went to Granny's house; relatives, mostly. But there's a relative that I'd always go hiding myself in the kitchen nervously when she kame. Every time. Not to mention the embarassment I had to bear from being teased about her by those aunts. But I tried to kalm myself; trying to stay kool whenever she was around, bekause I don't always have the chance to see her, and I shouldn't waste it when there was one.

And she happened to have the same kondition too sometimes, her mother told; red eyes, sneezing- just like I do. Aha. The day was good.

---

Sekond Raya. We were just at home, getting people's visits. I went to the cemetery that evening to visit the late Emperor's father and recite him Yassin. As usual, graveyard was peaceful. I also visited my other home after that; the beach. Didn't even get on the sand, though; just eating krab balls on motorcykle, bekause it was quite dark and I didn't want to be rushing back in rain.

---

Third Raya, we got a kall from Kemaman early in the morning - around 4 - when everyone was asleep. It was a bad news; my other grandmother, Mom's mom, was dying in hospital. She'd been hospitalised sonce midnight bekause of some breathing problem, I'm not sure. We rushed back and went straight to the hospital. Everyone was there- aunts and unkles and kousins from Mom's side- waiting for their turn to see Granny. It was only at 8 A.M. that I got to go up to see her. She was no longer konscious at that moment. She was breathing hardly, gasping for oxygen, supported by machine. Patches on her eyes, oxygen hose in her mouth, wires at her hands. It was an unbearable sight. I kissed her hand before I left her, and that was the last time I saw her alive. She died at 12.25 P.M.; I was at home, sleeping to ease my eyes. Then I went to help the funeral at my aunt's house, and then to the graveyard. It was good; she got all her children and the numerous grandchildren to help her to get there. Nothing else I pray but for Him to forgive all her sins, to ease her suffer, and to bless her soul. And may us, her family, get back together again.

When it happens on someone in our family, it feels real. Death feels real. Not just in the films, not just in the papers. But in the same time, it's hard to grasp the fakt that she's gone.

And those who live, shall die.

In remembrance of HASNAH HAMID

Oktober 29, 1937 - September 12, 2010

Ramadhan 29th

It doesn't feel so right to be in here in a time like this. Like, I don't know what time it's like. Like now. Everyone's going to where they'll be having fun- no, no. I know I'm going too but to still be in here now; it sucks. I'm dragged backward it feels like I don't want to go forward- no, I love being under this dome; dark, peaceful, tranquilising. I know, outside's better; everyone's going for it and will be having real fun for it's what people have been waiting for while they're under this dome. The inner and outer part of the dome; they are fused together, making people bound to- I'm stuck. Slowed. I'm out of words... Oh yeah! It's bright outside isn't it? ISN'T IT? That IS why I prefer to STAY HERE! I, I, want to bring this darkness, this peacefulness along with me to the outside- my PERSONAL DARKNESS! That's it! But WHAT is it really? WHERE kan I find it? HOW kan I bring it along with me?

Who knows if it ends TODAY?

Ramadhan 28th

People ask for forgiveness during Ramadhan and Eid, all to make up for their mistakes to others. Yeah, they all do that to everyone they know; friends, family. Asking for forgiveness, undoubtedly, is really good; it is an obligation, as far as I know. People do that every year it bekomes a tradition. A tradition. I know there are people who are really sincere for it but yeah, sincerity is unknown to us and I kan't say there are people who are not sincere in asking for forgiveness. But then, sincere or not, if we're going to repeat the same mistakes that we've asked others' forgiveness for, then I don't think what we've asked from others would do any good to them or us. Right. We're just humans. Mistakes are done without we even realise it.
Along with sincerity, try instead to forgive ourselves, and give ourselves a chance to be better; to God, and to people around us.

How good it'd be if our good attitude in this fasting month lasts for the next month, and the month after it, and the month after it.

Difference is Unity

Ah... those kids have reached agreement on the t-shirt design they're making for the klass. It's not like what I'd want it to be, and I kan't just tell them to design and design again so I'd like it. No. I respekt their taste and bekause of that, I'm going with mine.
I'm quite a minimalist; their design's too krowded, I think. Ah. I really need that goddamn Photoshop stuffed in this Machine. Damn.

Respekting others, I'm going alone.

Heaven of Darkness

Ah. It's happening again; my eye kondition. Again and again. And today it really got the hell out of me. I was supposed to finish my last paper today, which I did, but that was in pain. It'd gotten worse; I was suffering, waiting forever for the skool to end. My eyes were - still are - so red and watery. It's painful. I gave myself a little treatment this evening at home and it got better.
But nonetheless, the trials and tribulations of the exam, it's all ended now. And nothing is better than that.

I thought I'd be hitting the ground. But no; the more I fell, the kloser I got to heaven. Heaven of darkness. Away from the blinding sun.

I wrote something like that on my Kemistry III paper this morning and the ustadzah who kollekted the papers read it and said something about it. Kan't blame her; it does sound a bit weird. I just smiled my nervous smile to her.