They say remembering is a curse.

“But nobody ever forgot anything, not really, though sometimes they pretended, when it suited them. Memories were permanent. Sorrowful ones remained sad even with the passing of time, yet happy ones could never be recreated - not with the same joy. Remembering bred its own peculiar sorrow. It seemed so unfair: that time should render both sadness and happiness into a source of pain.” 

― Rohinton Mistry, 'A Fine Balance'

Imprinting memories of ingrained permanence,
Of a comfortable periphery that nostalgia exudes,
A sense of familiarity revisited,
Frequently.

Ceaseless rewinds,
Of saying "so..." with that sheepish smile of yours that followed,
Of an effortless free fall; similar to those amber leaves during autumn,
Of an unwelcomed Friday the 13th.

How it permeated,
How it precipitated,
How it terminated.

Hastily gathering incoherent thoughts; only to verbalize none.
Long fond gazes that now falter,
Warm pleasantries altering to frigid shards of silence.

An overwhelming brazen fervor,
Surpassing every rational recess,
Satan's handiwork perhaps?

Blowing off the grime,
Trivial vacillation with a stalwart spirit,
"Suppress it.. suppress it" her feeble whispers say,
Only to find herself on memory lane. Once again.

She walks. Hastens. Gasps.
But continues the remote labyrinth of liberation,
Only to find cessation in steps,
A halt so enticing, yet punishing called "looking back".

Try.

Forever flustered.

I've always thought that I should thank you.

Looming.

It's so dire that it erupts fear in me.

I for one know that I am not ready.

That time of the semester again.

A familiar path.

An uphill path.

A path that I will overcome once more, Insya Allah.

Ready, set, don't go.

This may seem a little juvenile since it's a throwback. It's an essay I wrote back in 2010 for English. My English teacher asked us: "who is the most unforgettable character you've met?". The subject I chose to write about was a no brainer.

There's a saying that goes "like father, like son", something that I found pretty ironic since I'm a girl but I'm highly influenced by my dad.

He may not have the height of Brad Pitt or the looks for that matter, but there is a feature about him that you can't erase from your mind- his wide forehead or 'fivehead' in my own terms, whichI proudly inherited though concealed by my three and a half inch fringe.

His colleagues ceaselessly praised him for being a man who exudes charisma. I couldn't help but agree as one-liners constantly punctuate his presence and he has that added hint of mischief in his smile. Contrasting to his role as a father and a family leader, he's no stranger to bringing up the persiflage in the household although it may have made my mother's blood pressure rise on several occasions.

I've always perceived that my dad was potentially bipolar. I made such an assumption because of his firmness when it came to my studies. I recall the time when I did quite an awful job with my Mathematics exam paper and how it infuriated him. But as a compassionate father, he knew anything numerical was never my forte, hence he tutored me and claimed that an ounce of procrastination, indolence and my lackadaisical attitude was intolerable. It gave me a certain sense of encouragement and it paid off since I managed to score an 'A' for the UPSR examinations. Like all fathers he too was overprotective. My peers endlessly teased me on not getting out of the house to hang out like they would normally do. It made my years as an adolescent a little glum, convincing me to think that I'd most probably get my first date at the age of 40! But deep down, I know that being overprotective was one of his characteristics since i'm his only child, his only little girl.

There were uncountable interests we both indulged in. One that we were absolutely zealous about had to be watching football. My first memory of watching a broadcasted game with him was the 1998 World Cup although I was completely hazy on what was happening. As a kid, I always thought it was a game that required 22 men donning shorts on a green pitch chasing after one ball. But when I reached the age of 10 or 11, I could comprehend why my dad was so fanatical about it: the euphoria of seeing your team succeed. I was green with envy when he told me about the numerous games he attended, yet I was completely grateful on the knowledge about the game he shared with me. It fueled me to secretly give him the sobriquet 'my personal football encyclopedia'. He was also the catalyst behind my dream to be a sports journalist in the future. I'm sure he'd be proud to see my name in the glow of a nine-point byline in the newspaper one day.

Football wasn't the only thing he loved. He was also a baking connoisseur. It's quite ironic in some ways because baking is largely perceived as an activity done by women, not the opposite sex. My dad couldn't care less on what most people thought and continued making lip-smacking delicacies. He soon transformed his favorite past time into a small business, taking in orders from family and friends especially when Hari Raya rapidly approached.

My dad may have found his strong points in baking and being an amateur football pundit, however he had feet of clay when it came to fashion. Being a person who is super fashion conscious myself, I couldn't help but criticize his rather strange choice and terrible taste in clothes. I remember that one day when he turned up at school to fetch me home. He was clad in baggy three-quarter pants, a polo shirt in a vivid fuchsia hue and an atrocious pair of Nike sneakers. My friends giggled as I blushed uncontrollably with embarrassment.

So, my dad clearly wasn't close to being on any best dressed list that existed, but it was the simple gestures that he did which made him 'Best Dad in The World' to me. From braiding my hair ala Rapunzel when I was in kindergarten to bringing me along to watch a Star Wars film (although Sci-Fi genre flicks aren't my cup of tea). I always expressed a grin when he apologized for not shaving properly as I ran my hands through his stubble that felt similar to sandpaper.

Sadly, I couldn't enjoy those blissful moments anymore as my beloved dad, my hero, succumbed to cancer in 2007. It was inevitable that I was going to lose him and at first, life without him was unfathomable. But reality sank in swiftly and I realized that I had lost the most unforgettable character I have met forever.

However, there's still a remnant of him that will remain with me as life goes on and though time passed, my love for him is invariable. His message to work hard and to endure through hurdles is drummed into my mind and I vow to reflect it in my studies.

He may have lost his battle with cancer but my dad is still and always will be a true warrior in my eyes.

A note to self.

Oh look another sappy ass post, six o-clock.

This is involuntary,

It waltzes in unannounced; catching me off off guard.

This is conquer,

every alcove under it's reign; defenseless.

This is a void,

sheer destitution; incapable of being a whole.

This is yearning,

interminable; though not palpable from the other side.

This is uncontrollable,

irrepressible; completely out of my hands.

It was free fall,

affixed on the illusion; utterly neglecting reality.

This is ephemeral,

transient at best; though it's intensity sky-rocketed.

And most importantly,

This is not a reason for you to crawl back.

Occasional withdrawal.

I failed to apprehend why words flow out so easily when the subject i'm writing about is you.

The fact that you tend to become this intermittent figment of my subconscious has left me pondering away too; leaving me with a cloud of questions to answer or worse, be swallowed by remorse as I try to get through the day.

I recall how heat would emanate from my cheeks; a superfluous of pink exuding off them as I elude your presence in the class corridor; desperately wanting to be somewhere else to blush our encounter out of my system yet at the same time I'm longing to be a stone's throw away from you, valuing the vicinity of your presence.

My memory does not fail me in remembering how I had to refrain  from smiling to myself as if I'm resembling  someone utterly moonstruck when you speak. It does not get any better when you're conversing to me. How I would agilely pretend to be gracing the image of a decorous young lady as you're speaking; immensely articulate with a good balance of wit and wisdom together with a hint of humility as words roll pleasingly off your tongue. But deep down my heart wants to be liberated from my thorax as it's practically leaping from the palpitations with every syllable that zephyrs through me; replaying ceaselessly in the confines of my mind.

I reminisce the day I murmured a half-hearted congratulations to you. And from then on wards my mind kick-started a countdown along side a despondence knowing the fact that the impermanence of it all is the only thing that is certain. 

There's one thing my usual timid facade never does and that is take a valiant leap of faith. My chivalrous act was unfortunately one I'd eventually lament, as soon as I found out about your rather abrupt change of heart. In many ways I was thankful for distance for it provided a remoteness from you after how you managed to fortify my feelings prompting my naive self to perceive the tangibility of what transpired.

My soul was tinged with acridity; I incessantly compared myself to who your heart took a liking for but at the end of it all I reluctantly realized that I commenced my own episodes of a heavy heart by my insolvable inability to let it go, to let you go despite my arduous effort to do so.

When you swiftly appeared again genuine shock took over me up to the point where it was overwhelming. My mind was baffled on the logistics of it all but my heart, my conscience was   plumbed with vacillation. The internal debate carried on in solitude staring vacantly at three empty cubicles in my white dress. Whatever speech my throat managed to put together were nothing more than mere quivers and a safe distance was kept with the aid of an arsenal consisting of sheer oblivion that was regretfully fueled by pride.  

And that was the first of many chains of remorse. I was purely petrified history would repeat itself; a recurring sense of dejection from you was not something my heart wanted to endure and so my modus operandi turned to making decisions using my pensive brain. 

I had always hope you'll be the one to get past these walls I eclipse myself behind; but ultimately I mentally constructed more of them, shielding myself from the potential pain you could elicit. Encounters that proceeded reflected perhaps the highlight of my lamentation. 

I've always been a guarded person, often letting self-consciousness chaperon the way I carry myself towards others. But the front I put up was rather extreme one. My face would be stoic, for I was fearful I would go back to being that girl who was flushing pink at the sight of you. I tried to keep whatever dialogue you initiated to a restrained exchange of words with  minimal pleasantries; devoid of affinity and completely stolid. 

 It was out of sheer refusal; a defiance of reverting to the state of how I initially felt. Every droplet of delirium you sparked in my heart had to be brutally evaded. Although no matter how much I tried to champion this refusal I've failed to suppress what my heart was telling me miserably.

Among all people, why did you have to be my first?

I gave in; but I was too late. 

I was mindful at the detriment I had dismally conjured, even more aware that the steps to rehabilitate any ounce of friendship we had would be absolutely futile. And the idea of a feasible relationship that I naively and subconsciously assumed that would ideally fall into place  is completely perished. 

Soon, I got a taste of my own medicine. The sting of disregard of my presence as I watch you carefully divert your gaze elsewhere; the pang of agony as I try to get closer to you but the radius between us is stretched by merciless avoidance. But what  aches my heart the most is how I caused it.

Amid all those mixed signals I couldn't decipher, I lost myself and got tangled in getting even. I built up my walls that ended up burning a bridge so dear to me, and this guilt is perpetually engulfing my mind.

I failed to verbalize the words I still withhold, but my priority now is just to say "I'm sorry. I really miss you." 

But we're suspended by this cold thread of silence.

We all scream for ice cream.

The last conversation I had with my dad was about ice cream.

The only time my walls ever come down.

It's 3 a.m and I would probably be half-awake from barely sleeping after cracking my head trying to figure out some shit I can't comprehend from the accounting 2 homework. With bleary eyes I'd switch on the telly,  down some form of caffeine and that's probably when being home, really feels like home. 

To disconnect from everything for 90 minutes.

Some people fail to understand this, some people think that it's utterly ridiculous. But they don't get it and they won't get it until they experience it.

You see, on a daily basis, you probably won't see my true colors. 

There should be one morning where we'd be watching my favorite club play together. Maybe then you'll see my true self.

It's hard to describe but boy I love the feeling. 

It's longing for the week to be over so you can get to that Sunday morning because you miss it so much although you had catch one 12 hours ago.

It's just an indescribable comfort. 

Though I wish it's a comfort I could share with someone. 

Same shit, different semester.

I'm fearful last Fall repeats itself.

It's lucid that you're disappointed, though you don't verbally manifest it.

You manage successfully conceal it, offering me consolation.

It's terrible enough that i'm in a quandary regarding this, but now i'm just paralyzed by this overwhelming sense of fear.

This too shall pass.

I hope.

I hate it when i'm being difficult to others and to myself.

Falter.

I fail to comprehend how I can be strong for others but break down so easily when I face my own issues.

It's funny how the smallest things intimidate me. Like yesterday when I was searching for a my high school report card. I realized I had dispose it last year thinking it won't bring me anymore benefit. I do need it for uni applications since this one school i'm applying to needs a transcript for all the years I spent in high school. I wasn't frantic or anything. I just sat in front of my shelf and wept, reflecting on my chances on getting in. Those I know personally are really just brilliant individuals in both academically and non-academically. And yup, I find it intimidating. It's amazing to see how people are so sure of what they want and here I am forever in doubt.

Even homework intimidates me, especially accounting II. It's like shit got real, seriously.

I honestly don't know why i'm writing this. I guess I just didn't expect myself to breakdown so early on.

Give me strength, Ya Allah.

It was the way you spoke.

I know we meet people in our lives for a reason. Though for you, I wonder why we had to cross paths. Why is it that your presence in my life has to be so brief, so... inconsistent? Months have passed and I can fathom that there's no mutual significance between us, it's just I wonder why the feeling  hasn't evade. It's silly how I subconsciously thought it'll fall into place last time around. I learnt my lesson and yet i'm still hopelessly hoping.

Come home, i'll try to make it right this time.

"I tried so hard to let you go,

But some kind of madness is swallowing me whole."
Madness|Muse

Decisions.

"... making a decision was only the beginning of things. When someone makes a decision, he is really diving into a strong current that will carry him to places he had never dreamed of when he first made the decision"

- The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho

It's application season and I've finally started first step of getting myself abroad to get that fricken degree already. Thankful to have overcome the vacillation in choosing where to go to, I just hope i'm making the right decision. It's a daunting process, and i'm filled with fear of not getting accepted.

I've never wanted my dad to be here and hold my hand through things so badly 'til now.

Rusty.

I find it so easy to believe in others yet so difficult to believe in myself. POR QUE?!

Confessions of an econs major.

There may be some nerdy analogies in this post, don't say I didn't warn you non-existent readers!

My performance since entering tertiary education certainly did not live up to my own expectations in my first semester and I guess my "academic confidence" took a dip since then and ma had doubts on my pursuing a degree in economics. See, it wasn't like I've always  wanted to do econs, it only came about my last year of high school. Before that I wanted to write about sports. Mmhmm, I guess I only wanted to that to ceaselessly ramble about my favorite club with a cause. At a certain I point there, I didn't know what I wanted. And that's scary.

The most basic thing in econs is perhaps to concept of scarcity and how we're pressured to make decisions out of it. And with time running out in terms of applying for unis back then, I made my decision, economics it is.

In many ways,I wish I was more like the economy. I.e when the economy's in its depressed state. It's ability to cure itself, how it needs intervention at necessary times to bounce back again. It's not needy yet when it becomes overly reliant on its own, help comes in at the right time (and that help ain't being to pushy either).

It's unpredictable yet somewhat uniform. More importantly for me personally, it's the only thing that makes rational sense. 

It balances making decisions "using the heart and the head" almost flawlessly, something that I don't think I would be able to accomplish. 

I would consider myself kinda indecisive (okay maybe very indecisive). With university applications around the corner i'm having trouble deciding whether I should do a bachelor of science in econs or a bachelor of arts in econs. I've narrowed down uni choices just for the sake of having something on the list. I don't even know whether I wanna fricken fly or not. At this point, I realize I still don't know what I want. And it's scary.

Hi, I should have.

"I should have proudly claimed that oh my head's to blame for all my heart's mistakes"

Make me a period mix.

In other unrelated shit in this random post:

Stoked that the season's gonna resume soon! Club football withdrawal syndrome sucks :(

and..

some recent events have terrified me.

I should be more thankful.

Deafening silence.

I can explain.

My stupid guard is always up. Yea, I suck.
I want this to phase out but I can't seem to let it go. Yup, I suck.

ugh.

Mummyyyyyyy :(

The invisible cloak is such a staple piece in my wardrobe.

"Summer has come and passed."

There's been one too many goodbyes this summer and i'm feeling a sense of... withdrawal. It hurts to see the people so dear to you leave. Yea it's kinda cliche but gosh it hurts like fuck. Not having them physically there to share stuff, the uncertainty of seeing them again in the future, seeing them bid farewell to their family *sigh.


It's just scary to know that in a year that's what i'll go through. 

"The weather man said blue skies

but its raining like the clouds all decided to cry."

August just had to come.

And its feels like November all over again.

I'm reluctant to  go through this once more.

 Statue|Low millions

We're in the same boat Mr. Key.

Remorse.

"Wasn't summer what you longed for?" I've asked myself this question ever since summer started.


This unexplained regret is continuing to haunt me.
I know where I went wrong.
I know I did not handle it very maturely, neither did you.
I know my pride got in the way.

My guard went up a little too quickly. But that's just my defense mechanism.
It's hard for me to accept things, it happens at a gradual, rather slow pace.

I know i'm not your cornerstone, rather a hindrance.
Perhaps a mere and insignificant option that you'll never end up choosing.

I can understand that you tried, you even fulfilled a previous promise that in the end, I end up breaking.
An explanation to you is somewhat necessary to me. But now that time is running out again, I'm unsure if you'll ever get to hear it.

Full circle.

 

If life was about coming full circle, does that mean in the end everyone ends up as strangers to one another again?

"Don't, don't let it go to your head"

"Cause I'm a wishful thinker with the worst intentions"

"Maybe I should hate you for this,

If only you knew half as much as you pretend to" 

You're So Last Summer| Taking Back Sunday

A realization.

I came to realize that I hate knowing when people will leave. I mean don't you hate it when there's some sort of "expiry date" of your time with someone? It can be so melancholy to know such things. I guess ignorance is really bliss after all. 

Another realization; Julian Casablancas is such a sexy rockstar.

Enjoy Undercover of Darkness, with Spanish subtitles (just to indicate my loyalties in Euro '12)

Slip back out of whack at your best.
It's a nightmare,
So I'm joining the army.

No house phones, but can i still call?
Will you wait for me now?

We got the right to live, fight to use it,
Got everything but you can just choose it
I won't just be a puppet on a string

Don't go that way.
I'll wait for you.

And I'm tired of all your friends
Listening at your door
I want, what's better for you,

So long, my friend and adversary.
But I'll wait for you.

Get dressed, jump out of bed and do it best.
Are you OK?
I've been out around this town
Everybody's singing the same song for ten years.

I'll wait for you.
Will you wait for me too?

And they sacrifice their lives
In our land are all closed eyes.
They've said it a billion times and they'll say it again.
So long my adversary and friend.

Don't go that way.
I'll wait for you.
I'm tired of all your friends,
Knocking down your door.
Get up in the morning, yelling no more,
So long, my friend and adversary.
I'll wait for you.

The power of some Pixie dust.

It says most of it.

I'm sincerely sorry.

Obviously oblivious.

Caught off guard indeed.
Surreal? Oh heck yeah.

It didn't feel like it was reality at that moment.
I couldn't think straight.
It was hard process it and it's still hard to fathom it now.

An ounce of regret;
An ounce of unexplained regret.

Oblivion is something we're both good at I guess.

Out of hands.

Even an A- is out of the question.

Gah.

For a split second.

"When your friends have great news, you're happy for them for like a millisecond and then you start thinking about yourself"

- Ted Mosby, How I Met Your Mother

We are all selfish human beings. Known fact.

And why can't I seem to get a good grade post-SPM?!

Uber frustrating. Self-frustration to the max.

Urgh.

Raise that white flag.

Trying times indeed.
I can't do this.

Drained.

"Lets rearrange, I wish you were a stranger I could disengage"

I cared too much.

I hoped too much.

I used to think I would regret not going, now it's the opposite.

I regret everything.

I chased like a fool, a fool that was only fooling herself it turned out.

The first would hurt, I knew well enough it would.

Well, I didn't expect it to hurt like fuck.

I used to label you blind, it turns out i'm the one who couldn't see it.

It's like my judgement was so clouded by how you were that I neglected the fact that we all have flaws, including you.

I don't blame you, it's more of a self-deprecating phase.

I was so naive, so blunt, so... stupid.

I guess in some ways I should thank you, if it weren't for you I wouldn't have a lesson, a reminder.

Never hope. Never wait. And never care for someone who doesn't give a shit.

And suddenly, I become part of the past

Becoming the part that don't last

I'm losing you and it's effortless.

Over my head| The Fray

"Where do you run to escape from yourself?"

Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness the failure of a child whose carrying everyone's damn hope of ace-ing every fricken thing in the planet and be on every fricken deans list and go to whatever damn school that pops up at the top of their heads.

Well, folks witness all you want and be disappointed. Frankly, i'm not sure why you'd have this expectations of me in the first place. I don't see myself as smart. And although i'm grateful to have been granted a sponsored education on a tertiary level, I look back at think that boy "I don't really deserve this."

Lackadaisical? I'm not sure.

I've always tried to figure out my talent through out high school. I've observed on how my peers possessed talents they could turn into their possible careers; writing, photography and modelling. And i'm like.. "err, so what do I fall back on if I screw up academically?". Nada. Hence, the reason behind being all kiasu back in high school. I never expected myself to be nerdy or anything, I just felt like I had to for my own sake and not to please the mak ciks or whoever who's being ultra expectant.

I feel like I'm not that kinda person anymore. I just.. I don't know how else I should put this but I feel like I've lost my appetite to do excel academically. It's just.. hard when all of a sudden you become bad at something you're good at. And hell, it's even more of a horrible feeling when everyone knows you for that and expects you to do well.

Ugh. I'm not sure what I'm trying to say from this post but God, I just want to rant. Please, just stop being so expectant of me. Stop all the comparisons. Stop having hopes. Stop setting goals. Instead, support your kid. And when I mean support, don't set me as a damn example (cuz i'm NOT a good one) and start comparing, just please. And one other thing that irks me the most is being labelled 'smart'. Just stop, okay? Stop. Cuz when I let you know how much I screwed up my first semester, you'll finally know all along you shouldn't have called me that in the first place.

"The tension is here,

the tension is here.

Between who you are and who you could be.

Between how it is and how it should be."

Dare You To Move| Switchfoot.