January

I only have one new year's resolution this year and the only thing that matters is to finish up my thesis asap and try and graduate this year, Inshallah. But the writing part is sure taking a toll and it feels I am moving  at snail's pace. 

I love how Fiz explains to me about plays and it's terms and why the stage would be set up in some ways and why actors would do what they did. He looks so passionate when talking about it, as if it's his whole life would be dedicated to it, which I find it very admirable. I on the other hand, honestly am very good with general knowledge, (bragging) but have zero knowledge when it comes to the art of theatrical vita. 

I also have very short hair now and it's so tedious to take care of and it speaks for itself on certain days. 

December

Well hello December.

Been on a hiatus is never fun. Literally every word I would like to express on, leaves this idle brain of mine slowly and I am sunk back to square one. 

Me mopping around this dark clouds is annoying my own self. But I had an awesome time travelling around the beach last week and I must say I could do that till money runs out. 

A friend suggested I read Elizabeth Gilbert's Committed (she said no pun intended) and as much as I dislike reading romance and maybe at this certain age, I have decided to not believe in romance, I am starting to adore that book. Maybe it has to do with the fact that it is not fiction but fictional in it's on way. No idea where I am going with this though. 

My other half is back for good and I find myself quite scared on how we will live from now onwards. Been stuck in a long distance relationship for 4 years sure can alter your believes in what a relationship really is and your daily activities. So the question is now, how do I become a normal girlfriend? It's like Dating 101 all over again. I like being nervous around him. 

I need to stop writing now. I sound like Gilbert and I would pretty much like to stick sounding like Hemingway. 

Wanderings

I spent an entire month bustling through Burma and Yogyakarta, both with such identical histories and way of life yet different parts of Buddhism scattered across these beautiful lands. 

I begin my journey with a book on Tibet (A Journey Into Tibet, a gift by Rab Azmi), as I read it on the plane or at tea shop stops, it felt like how the author was explaining on the essence and beauty of the Potala in Lhasa, I was experiencing it Borobudur and was willingly trapped in my own trance of literature and reality.

I wished I had written down my feelings at that time. I wish I had captured more images. But these are mere captions of what we want to see and believe and I wouldn't do justice on how I would have portrayed its beauty.

I had reminded myself the night before visiting Borobudur and Prambanan that my expectations of it should be thrown out the window. It should be subjective the way it is, the way it was discovered thousands years ago and no literature should have a negative effect on it.

I reached the ruins at around 6am and the chills that experienced were not of cold but of the wanderings on how people back at that time built such a beauty, precisely and how they loved their Gautama Buddha and its branches of Siva, and co. No mere words or dictations would explain the feelings and writing about this just adds on more nostalgia.

As I ended my book on Tibet, I ended my journey on Buddhism. Sadness finally kicks in. I am not quite sure if it’s melancholy but just that tangy feeling of leaving something you dearly adored to other people to experience it for themselves.

As of present, I think I’d still like to dwell in my own sadness of my departure on the two beautiful lands until every ounce of feelings could be explored and perhaps I’ll be finally ready for Tibet and the Dalai Lama. 

(This was written on the plane, on my journey back to reality. 27th August 2013)

When yer 25.

Typing this as someone who is a quarter of century old, feeling rather blessed actually. I managed to store those emo-shits nicely in a jar. Maybe i'll open it again when I turn a year older next year. 

I couldn't thank enough to my favourite humans for the warm wishes and the huge gigantic flowers I got from Tip or the dinner I had with Rab and my sister. Gracias :) My favourite wishes has got to be from Tip, Rab, Philipp, Albert and Faisal. Now these are worth print screening for. These people are so quirky with words they should work for the indie side of Hallmark. 

On a lighter note, I now am a red haired and ready to take over the world, in a shoestring. 

Unhappy

I am still not quite sure how turning 25 will be like. It's not something I wait in anticipation for. I think I am actually sad, yes sad because I had this ideal picture when I was 20 of the things that I have achieved when I turn 25. And the check list is still empty. I am still jobless, yet to finish my Masters, I live with my parents and 3 cats, and why do I feel like they're signs that I'm off to spinsterhood. I don't think anyone wants to marry me cos if they do, I'd have a ring on my finger by now. That's totally not the point and yes I am writing this in a furious mode and all I wanna do is cry because I don't wanna turn 25. 

Unhappy. 

For a change, something happy.

I think this weekend's rum springa has got to be one of my favourite weekends so far. I haven't wandered off  alone to a photo exhibition or art gallery for such a long time that I forgot how liberating it could be. And dinner with the kiddo while dancing to Tame Impala made me realize i should just move out to the city and live a little. The art show we went to turned out to be rather pretentious so that was rather a sad case but I bet Rab enjoyed the crazy laughter session with the boys who were a lil' tipsy but the nicest at their worst. Its nice to have different sets of friends who brings out something different about you in a good way. 

I also feel thankful that I have an awesome boyfriend who sent me all these Beatles memorabilia with his neat-est hand writing all the way from across the globe. Hurry back soon Tip! 

Somehow I feel rather content today thanks to the fancy Chinese lunch and tea I had with my best friend on Sunday and honestly, I've been on a caffeine hiatus for quite awhile and the coffee we decided to have in Espressamente Illy just made me all wobbly on the knees and it makes me wanna put the volume to max and just listen to Mogwai while I sip it. 

Free of Monday blues, bad hair day, don't care. 

Ramblings

The starting of Lorna Doone, when the instruments goes into reverb, exactly at 1.00 till 1.15, I get chills.

On Sunday, since my sister and dad were on their own adventure in the land of the Golden Temples, mom and me drove 1 1/2 half hours to this Thai village, Satun just for a bowl of noodles with extra cow intestines and other not-to-be-imagined ingredients. I know, barbaric of us.

And I'll be feasting on ribs with Rab this Saturday. What could possibly be wrong with me and meat :(

The idiot box hasn't been nice to me lately cos suddenly it's the season finale for Revenge and I also lost count of which episode of Mad Men I last saw. I'm also suddenly obsessed with Rachel Zoe and Tip finds humour in that. I also like to think that I could be a Gallery Girl, way cooler than any on them. Too much TV and I build my own utopia. 

I am now at work, really working hard on a word search game. Slap me, somebody. 

Blinded

I don't think I've felt this much hollow negativity since i was in 2nd year in uni back in the undergraduate days.  I could sleep all day and let this misery pass. It haunts you, it tears you and no amount of anything can make it go away. I can see myself drowning within these dark clouds. I didn't know a book could have such effect over me. 

Lately, I've been trying to close my eyes and do the everyday norms that i do. I guess we never fully utilize our senses. I don't know how George Wong, or Dr Tan, or Larry did it. They're all 70 plus and they've been blind since birth. Except for Larry. He was blind when he was 30 and still went to work till he was 55. Now that's something admirable. I spent an hour and had lunch with the lot and I find it rather inspirational on how they have the will to live each day while I could feel my energy fading like a dimmed light just to go through a day. 

But riding a bicycle in the middle of old rustic buildings and off cinnamon filled air while the wind blowing every strand of my baby hair, now that ladies and gentlemen, that's content unconsciously. 

Wednesday blues

I finally saw a record player i wanted but it was at least 50 years old and the price range was not an option or something to think twice about. But when the uncle tested it and as the needle touched the black vinyl, i couldn't help but to have this feeling of really wanting something although repairing a few decade old music box is definitely not my forte. So i went across the street and spent my sadness on buying flowers instead.