Wednesday, August 3, 2016

Falling Under.

I don’t know how I should feel what I’m feeling. I feeling like there’s a whole other person inside of me and I feel it is unfair if you did not know. I am not this girl, since the beginning of time I know what it takes to have people like me, to pretend to them and show them the most likeable features of me. To not exactly lie, but to not tell them the truth. I feel like it is safe. Safe so I wouldn’t be hurt by not being accepted for who I am. And as time passes by, I soon began to take form of the girl I pretend to be that up until now, I do not know who I am anymore. I can’t trust the words that came from inside of me, from my own voice. I feel like all that came from it are stories, fairytales, and the perfect plot. I am no longer a natural human being. I’m scared of myself, I’m scared that one day when I took off this mask in front of those I love they will shunned me away. Because I am no longer the person they thought I am.

When will that day come? The day I can let go of this heavy mask?

He said never. Never as long as he is in me.

I heard his voice as clearly as the thoughts. He told me things. He has been telling me who I am, how I’ll handle thing. Through my tears, I could feel his hand around me. I could feel half of my body against a heat I can’t explain. I could feel him suck away my darkness only to transfer it to another part of me. He told me to stay away but he never did stay away from me. He has been lingering around. They told me to let him go. That he is not real, that I’m too childish to hope for a none existence but that none existence is what keeping me sane all those years. All those years of me bearing those mask. Telling tales of a hypocrite heart. He knew who I wasn’t. He endure it, as I endure his presence.

It was painful.

A part of me, that part of me. Maybe he was holding it with him. That is why I have never been able to find it. I have to find him to find it. He knows who I really am. Because he heard my shout, my scream, my cries, my fear, my anger, my frustration, my suicidal thoughts. He saw it. He saw everything. My other half, my savior. He felt trapped not being able to hold me. I could feel it too.

Where will I go? Can I escape the truth?

The truth that I’ve been depending on his soothing words to keep myself sane. I’m losing my mind everyday with this doll of a self. How should I not? I’m tired of pretending. But if I stop, I am no where near resting. I am no where near myself. Because I do not know who that girl was, or am.

All I could hear is his voice… and my own stupidity to hold on to this mask. My savior? Is he really? Or am I falling deeper in this quicksand. I could no longer pull my legs out. Suffocating. Hand? Where is that hand? I could feel a presence. Is it his? Or is it someone else. I would never know.

I’m letting you go now. I’ll see you again. You got a chance to show them your self without that mask tonight. Just tonight. Tomorrow, when you wake up, u have to wear it again. Do not let them know. Do not let them in. only you and him exist in that mind of yours. Do not let the others enter. There’s not much space. Tonight, little girl. Only tonight. I’ll keep you close.   

#midnightmuse #justapiece #reiraisabella

Sunday, December 20, 2015

If this was a movie.


It was 78 days ago since I last wrote and a lot has happened. Obviously. 2 months and a half is enough to change a course of someone's life. Especially if that someone is me. But it is not just me, people around me are going through tough changes too and well, it seems like my life is not as dramatic as it theirs but for once, I'm glad. I have had enough of this whole drama thing. I just want to lead a normal life for once but I guess you don't get to choose your way of living is the best thing because God gives you the best you could have had.

Sometimes I wonder if I could like, write my own storyline, what would I wish for? What would I have written? A happily ever after or a tragic ending? I always wanted a dramatic ending after all but I want a normal, laid-back life too. I guess like everyone, I want my character to be happy, to have happiness in my life. 

Of course, I have happiness in my life now, no doubt. And it's not like I want some infinite happiness or anything. I love my life right now.. I just finished the whole series of BBT and TVD. So much happiness is running through this vein. 

Anyway, if I could write my life story, how will it go? 

Well, for one thing I'd be married to my best friend. Not my current one because he is being a jerk lately. Well, at times I do find comfort in him but most of the time he is just begging me to press that red button that says 'WARNING: Explosion might occur". I have never publicize our weird relationship but then again, I never publicized any of my relationships. Serious or not. I just don't feel like telling people. 

But okay, lets just for once I lower down that barrier and tell people about him, I don't know. It might seem once sided. But to be really honest (I know, I'm not answering the question. I'll get back to that later), he is like my addictive pill. I just can't go on days without talking to him. Even though it is a random topic.. it has been 3 years, the longest we've been not talking to each other is 22 days. It was horrid. 

And honestly speaking, he and I may not be hanging out physically a lot but he is the only guy who could stand my emo-shit, my PMS mood, my craziness, blood-thirsty moment, and my drama. And yes, he hated me a lot because I've hurt him countless times. But he is still here and I don't see him plotting a revenge plot against me, I think. Oh, wait, he did once and he told me about it.. but he didn't do it. 

I guess that was the moment I knew.. 

That I have someone I can rely on. That person where I can tell everything, talk randomly and we'd still be talking. No matter how many time we fought. It's not fragile, but not concrete either. I just hope that whatever it is, we'll still be friends.. 

Okay, back to the topic..

I'd be married to the guy who, above all, knew me like the back of his hand and even more, connected to me by something more superior than the claims of love. But then again, this world is not perfect. I might not find him here. So I'd just wish I'd be married to a decent guy who would still love me and be honest about his thoughts. I don't want a romantic guy, or prince charming.. just someone who would help me raise a family, still be supportive of my choice. 

And in my story, I'd be working, achieving my dream, spreading kind words and helping people. I just want to be someone that marks something not only in this world but in people's lives. 

But the storyline. I don't know. I think I love my storyline now. Yeah it is a bit messed up here and there, but that's the way it should be. 

I guess that's all for the update. 


Friday, October 2, 2015

Ultimate Love

Salam Alaik.

The only reason I felt like writing is because I met a writer with that touch-my-heart sensation. She is my Creative Writing classmate. When I first heard her read her writing, I literally had that feeling of wanting to cry but at the same time I don't want her to stop. I want to devour every word, but at the same time, I want those stream of words to keep linger. Simply, it's like buying a Dark Mint Chocolate (my Fav) and as much as you love it, you do not want to eat it all in one go. You want that taste to linger but not linger long enough till you get bored. 

She's one of those writers. I fell in love with her words instantly. And I kinda look up her FB and that leads me to her blog. And well, what surprises me is that she talks a lot about God and Mercy and the Love towards gone and yeah, I guess that simply make me choke back tears. I realized her words were like mine. What I used to write anyway. I did not do it anymore now. And I was wondering why when I found the answer. 

I've grew apart from my Ultimate Love. I grew apart from God. 

I may be past my prime teenage years, where theories of 'finding self' lingers, but I still haven't find myself. I wanted to cry. Sometimes I thought I am this kind of girl, but then I changed to be someone else. It confuses me sometimes. Then it gets me, maybe the reason why I'm confuse about myself is because with different people/groups, I am a diff person. 

All because I want to get a positive feedback from people. I realized that I've been living life according to people. And I hated it. Because that is the reason why I grew apart from Him. I forgot God. I forgot my reason to exist in this world is to be whoever He wants me to be. 

I guess its a domino effect. You widen your gap with Allah and the rest seems to fall apart. Because you didn't get the roots right, the leaves will not grow healthy. Allah will forever be the root. The reason. The starter. 

I miss talking to Allah, telling Him how I've achieved things, how big something insignificant are, how I used to cry telling Him my sins and my problem. Holding onto Him and only Him. 

I hope one day I find myself within His premise. I grew closer and closer to My Creator. To fall in love over and over and over again with My Lord. And to die, knowing my life is blessed by Him. I know at times I've given up on Him, whereas till now, He is still watching over me. 


Thursday, August 6, 2015

You're my Flashlight.

“He’s gone.”

What do you mean he’s gone? I just saw him. I spoke to him. A few minutes ago. I clenched my hand to my heart, worried. I could feel the air getting colder. They say the weather tonight is going to be rough and here I am, standing at my balcony, overlook the seas. I could see the wave kissing the shore, no matter how many times it has been sent away. I pulled my knitted cardigan tighter to me. I can’t lose him. Not now.

This tower has been my home for years. People come but they go too. Leaving me all alone, always. I am always alone here. I have a mirror I could talk to every now and then but that is just it. The mirror, although responsive, is not human. It may act like one but by the end of the day, it is not real. But he is. He is real.

I remember the first time I saw him. He was just blending in, like all the other people who visited me in my tower, who lingers around. His eyes was fixed to a flower, determine to have it. I watched him as he failed a few times but he wouldn’t give up. But then I saw him bled. I was concern but I didn’t show it. I never show it. He didn’t notice that I noticed. Though I blamed the flower.

He is always in his small little world. His comfort zone. But sometimes I envy him. He gets to stay in that comfort zone and gets hurt little than I did. I saw a whole world out there, even though I’m still trapped in this tower, but I have the advantage of seeing a wider view from up here. But he seems happier.

One of the day that I remember was when he approached me personally, asking me if I’m bored, being here alone. I said I am, or was, because then afterwards, he came by every day, bringing me games and activities for me to do, to play with. I’m not sure if it’s me pulling him out of his comfort zone or if it’s him who brings me into his but we are in between whenever we are together.

Slowly, I began to get warm with his presence that long before I realized, I always wait for him to come back. He’s not confident, he makes awkward moves sometime but I always notice the way he speaks, the gruff voice that makes me smile unwillingly and that impossible-to-understand words that he always choose when we play our game, the way his eyes would stare innocently sometimes when he is deep in thought, the way when other people came and tease him and he would try to avoid it. Oh, how so many things I noticed, but he didn’t notice.

He was there when I feel helpless, he sees me in my darkest mode. I expect him to run when he knew, the reason I was trapped here but he stays. And now you’re saying he is gone?!

Yes, Honey. He is gone. He will eventually be gone.

I stared, helplessly. I could feel my knee buckled that I have to hold on to the stone railing of my balcony. Why? If you said he is gone, why? Why now? Why suddenly?

Because your heart reaches him. Honey, don’t you remember?

Remember what?

Remember, that you are not meant to love anyone. You will only bring hurt to other people. You are a poison. And before you hurt that innocent boy, we have to take him away from you first. Even if he returns your feeling, you will never be happy. You are not allowed to be happy. Your job is to stay in this tower, alone. Always alone.

I sat down. I remember him. I remember the night I pushed him away. I remember the harsh words I said. I remember the hurtful look on his face, the tone. That voice. I wanted to scream sorry but I know he is probably half way across the country, glad to be away from me. I’m sure he’ll forget me. He’ll meet someone new.

Damn it. Why.

Honey, he will remember you.

I looked up. He will?

Yes, after all, you were the darkest hour in his bright life. 


This took me less than 30 minutes to write and is probably the shortest time ever. And I love it cuz it seems new. Like unlocking a new skill. Hilmi said it's dark. He always said my writing is dark. *eyes rolling* He said this is what happens when you are a Literature student. Ouch. Mcm dier bukan ex-literature student. Eleena said its tragic. I guess it is a mixture of both but I believe this is the closest to me bringing out what is inside of my heart. What do you guys think?

I think it is something new. Like when a painter discover a new way to mix their colors and how a photographer discover a way to bring out a certain image and how a musician finds the right chords to play together. This is how I discover mine. 

I hope I can write more of this. Eleena and I are planning something. But it is mere planning for now but I really, really do hope it is not just a plan. I hope it is a work of action. Writing is not easy. It is like putting everything on the line and hoping that you win the lottery. I guess that is my fear. I'm afraid to sacrifice and I'm afraid off what is going to happen. 

We can't all win in this world, it is the survival of the fittest. Not everyone wants to read your book. I'm afraid that if I fail the first round, it'll bring all of me down. I'm not saying I'm a patient of depression, but depression is there around me. Waiting to grab me in his arm again and wouldn't let me go. 

I guess that's that. I have to get ready for class. Class pagi da ponteng -.-'


Tuesday, July 28, 2015

Midnight Rant #1


I don't really know why I keep on putting '#1' behind each post because I only manage to write one post on it every time. This is not a serious post whatsoever. Because this is me being very nervous for my Arabic Midterm tomorrow. Hell yeah. I am never this nervous before. I don't know why and because of my nervousness, I decided to wash it away with some writing. Even though I'm typing it with my trembling fingers. 

I have this fate with Arabic. I've been learning and studying it for almost 20 years now but it never stays. My ustazah said that studying Arabic and Al-Quran is different from normal studies because if there's something wrong with your intention and your heart, then you'll never get there. 

I guess she's right. I mean, yeah, she's right. I guess my heart was never that pure to begin with. Sebab tu bertahun belajar tak lekat2 pun. Haish. But I want this to be different. I thought it could be. I even pasang this niat if I score well, I nak minor Arabic. Mimpi je wehh. 2 minggu cuti, vocab semua hilang. 


Oh, before I forget.. Thanks Anas for the longest comment I ever received from anyone regarding my posts.

(If you are reading this) Thank you for the long way back support. Because I always have this fear that maybe I'm not that good in writing and that would be a nightmare because I love writing and being told that you are not good at something you love is one of the worst feeling. And you are one of those people that I appreciate exist in helping me to pursuit writing because I know there's someone out there who will still read it. Kay, mcm cheesy. I love your stories and your post too btw. And thanks again for the help. The remaining Ramadhan is an alhamdulillah phrase. =D

This is a midnight Rant sooo.. I don't really have an objective on what to write. Hmm.. Hmm. My raya is good. Boring but good. Though I don't know what people are expecting out of me. And I think human beings are full of lies. (Okay last statement tu takde kne mengene with my raya. Haha.)

I know I need to get back to my revision tapi tak bole nak focus. I don't know why. I feel frustrated. Countless time Arabic has let me down with its exceptionally hard moment and blank space it gave me during exams. I am afraid that tomorrow, da belajar bnyk mane pun, I tak ingt. Sadds wei. Sadds. 

I guess that's that. Thanks for reading my ramdom, sangat random post. I'm going to start writing short stories, poems and my long hiatus novel again and I'm trying my hardest to get over my fear of rejections. I want to be able to write without the fear of one. InsyaAllah, one fine day, kalau da takdir, ade lah tu buku2 tu kat shelf2. And may it touch others too. 

P.s, in case if u're wondering why I put Lily Collin's picture up there, she is kind of my inspiration. I love her motivational words, her acting, her expression, her fashion sense and her hairstyles the most. Lol. But putting it in this post is random. 

So random. 


Signed off at 12:50, 28/7/15


Tuesday, July 7, 2015

Ramadhan Diary #1: Challenges!


For introduction, it has been 4 months since I last 'vowed' to write everyday. So predictable of me. I also thought of writing a continuous of the Ramadhan Tazkirah but I have yet find the time. Okay, that is an excuse.. I did find time but I didn't make use of it. But tonight, since I slept early and woke up like around 1am and couldn't sleep back, I supposed I might want to write something. 

This isn't entirely a tazkirah thing. Cuz I'm not sure of any tazkirah to talk about. This is just a diary, as stated above. Lol. 

And today marks the last 10 nights of the holy month of Ramadhan. So far my experience of Ramadhan here kinda sucks. I knowww. It was supposed to be a deep spiritual journey since I am near masjid and there's a lot of opportunity for me to do my ibadah but gosh, who knew studying and fasting could be sooooo tiring! 

I mean, before this, in KUIS, the experience was a bit different maybe because the distance from my hostel to the main campus is not that far and tiring, but here.. nak naik bukit Salahuddin tu bole mati kay! I'm exaggerating but yes! Penat T.T *cries thousand buckets* 

Plus, my class is full (8am-4pm) and imagine studying arabic for 4 hours straight. Don't get me wrong, I love arabic but *cries thousand buckets again* its exhausting. Language learning is not easy. 

So with the 8-4 timetable, and around 6 I have to be at the mosque to break my fast, I can break my fast in my room but then I'll be lazy to do my tadarus and pray tarawikh. I mean, I do pray tarawikh cuz I'd feel guilty if I don't but I love praying tarawikh with an imam rather then alone. It doesn't feel tarawikh-ish if I'm praying alone. Lol. Cerewet. 

So there you go. Reason why I am so exhausted especially with the weather and how time is brushing so fast. I feel like sleeping the whole day. =( It was rather sad. 

What if this is my last Ramadhan? Then I'll regret it forever and ever. Because I did not put on effort as much as before and as much as others. I'm not that strong. I guess I didn't prepare beforehand, that is why I ended up not doing my fullest. 

And maybe the other reason is because I'm alone. I used to have my usrahmates to be there for me whenever I'm falling but here, since I sorta decided to walk on my own, I don't have them. Okay, menyesal. I guess that is why usrah is important. 

But alas, all that is over and done with. I have the last 10 nights to redeem myself and #pray4me that i'll do my very best and meet with the Night of Power, Lailatul Qadr itself. Ya'll can drop any kata-kata semangat cuz I'm dying for some motivation, for the remaining Ramadhan and remaining semester and remaining lifespan. lol. 

Tgk Sophie!

Lailatul Qadr is my favorite night because throughout the history of my life, a lot of miracles happened on that night. The night I heard that 'Quranic melody', the night that I prayed for UIA and here I am, the night I could feel my Lord's love and how warm it touches my soul, washing away all the sins of yesterday. 

So I hope this year, I'll find it, work for it and gain it. Because this year, I have my own list of dua' and needed to be answered before my time is up. And I need all the help I can get from the owner of my Soul.

[-.- Kes lame tak tulis. Da jadi karangan SPM da.]

I hope you guys forgive me for not writing and still have time to read. 
Takde time pun takpe, tak terase. Kahkah. But you wouldn't come down to the very end if you don't have time, do you? *senyum sinis*

Haha. I'm taking Bahasa Melayu this semester so my melayu sorta mcm improve gitu. 
Okay tak, I lied. My Malay sucks!      

Signed out at 02:33am 7/7/15

Saturday, February 21, 2015

What's it like to be 22?



Well, my initial plan is to write something about the movie 'Stuck in Love' because if you are a writer or planning to be one, that is the movie for you to get some motivation. Haha. And yes, it inspire me a lot but then I remembered something else. Last year, I wrote this: A letter to 22 year old me.

It was a letter I wrote for the 22 year old me and well, in a few hours I'm turning 23. You know, the funny thing is I was not looking forward for this birthday. Haha. When I was a kid, I used to pester people around me that my birthday is coming and I even had a count down written at the side of my diaries. Like, '20 more days...', '10 more days...' etc. But here I am, passing all those glorious age of 16, 18 and 21 and I wish I would remain there forever. 

No, I wish to remain 22. It is supposed to be my dream year because I have been looking forward to it all this while, hoping that something magical would happen and I would remember it forever and ever. 

But alas, I'm turning 23. I forgot that tomorrow is 22 February until Maxis sent me a msg saying I got free calls. Damn Maxis. Just let me leave in the oblivious for a while. 

So, I since I am not really looking forward to getting older, I'll write about what is it like being 22. Well, truth is, it feels the same as any other years. I mean I'm practically an adult so I don't have an age restriction to anything anymore, so legally, I can do anything right now. 

Even so, being 22 somehow has this effect on me that I am on my special age. I want to make it happen, you know. I want to be able to find my soulmate, or something like that. If it is true. I mean, I know I am a hopeless romantic person but I am somewhat a skeptic too. I don't know if it's real. I don't know if love or marriage will be real. 

Almost 80% of the time when I'm 22, I thought that I am ready and I thought that I am going to find the One and get married and be a wife and a mother. I thought that I was ready. But towards the end, I became skeptic, I began to question my readiness and yes, part of it is because I've been hurt by trusting a person that would wait for me. So I let go. I'm letting go of my 'readiness', I'm letting go of the idea of marriage altogether. 

Maybe I will get married, maybe I won't. And I'm okay with it. Maybe I won't find the love of my life ever. Maybe I won't experience all that cheesy moments and that fast heartbeats. And I'm okay. Maybe I won't ever have a baby of my own and experience raising up kids. I guess this is a phrase of being an adult. You just get over it. 

I have a lot of things I want to do in life. Things that I can at least plan and have a bit control of. But marriage isn't a thing that I can control, so it is no use living life waiting for Prince Charming to knock on your house and ask for your hand in marriage. So it is far better if I can focus my life on things that I can plan on. Like my studies and career later on. 

I guess being 22 reminds me that I have a lot of other things. I have a whole future ahead of me and I need to act fast. I need to stop mopping around and wait for opportunities to come by, I have to search for it. I'm not getting any younger. And 22 too reminds me that I have something valuable in my hand, and I am wasting it by letting it go without investing in it and therefore, I will try to make 23 as memorable as possible. I will not waste it nor will I let it pass by because, hey, you are not going to be on the same age deck twice, mate. 

Although, 22 is not really a waste. I get to meet awesome people, learn valuable lessons, and fail and fail again to remind me that I have to climb back up, to remind me that I still have Allah up there to remind me that I have to work harder than usual. It helps me to be a better person, and a better adult, I guess. 

I just hope that I'll find the strength and courage to pursue writing and get something published. I was afraid actually, to publish something.. for the fear of no one reading it. But a writer I personally met the other day said, To turn that fear into a boulder and make your way through it. Focus on those who actually reads and actually support you. Ignore all the negative thoughts. So yeah, I'm making my way, InsyaAllah. Pray for me, aitez?

Oh, I'm ending this post with Edgar Allen Poe's:

"I became insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity."