my life stopped telling stories.

has my life run out of stories to tell? my life had stopped telling stories.

for once, after i started to blog, i have no life's stories to share. (i don't know why i keep using the word, "life", but its as if more philosophical, so bear with me)for once, i have this brain block that i fail to generate stories that i think my fellow friends, also my once faithful readers, would find interest in reading.

i feel that i am too boring to be read. i feel un-janed. shocking. shocking.

what i see through my eyes, fails to come out as a story. and what i feel in my heart fails to be written in words.

and when i [temporarily] stopped blogging, i stopped reading my friends' blogs. and i feel so disconnected, so disconnected.. i feel so left behind, and just too juiced out to race all the way front. and hence, the total disconnection. keeping up seems like an endless effort, for a moment there, i needed to take a break and hid myself in the dark corner, between that two walls.

but today, the sunshine beamed down into that corner i was hiding.

past many weeks, although seemingly lost from the existance in my blog,i was still updated with the many happenings from home, eg. the Allah controversy and how convent taiping received some national media attention (youl), merentas desa from school........school's ketua pengawas campaign, my friends trip to Tambun sambil belajar ke Hospital Ipoh, sentral's new skating ring and oh bloody oh blaadahs.

Lastly, HAPPY FEBRUARY, people!

February sudahpun mari, jom sama-sama bernyanyi, berpesta berseri-seri, asal tak makan babi.

February comes the new year.

lone

i find myself alone
sitting in the dark night sky
the stars are the only friend
they are there but they are far
just like you

the condensed air of lonliness
cold harsh and silent
it gets harder and harder to breathe
by the thought of the distance you left
between you and i
its like the end of the road and little bit more

i accidentally tried to grasp your hand
but all i caught was empty

the earth finally made its final turn
celebration of sparks and lights
but i miss the fireworks of you and i
prettier than the ones in sight
but i shall settle for one less pretty

lonely as i am
i shelter in your joy



hey, people, what have we here, a new year? Happy New Year. a year you will fill it with jolly lollipops.

a phone call, that phone call.

oh, dear. severe abandonment of the blog.
XX

have you ever felt rapid heart beat when making a phone call because this is the first time you attempted the call? and because the person behind that phone makes your heart pulsate at 101 times per minute?

i have.

and after dialing 33 numbers, the long pause on the phone before it starts ringing, makes the anxiety peak. and when it starts to ring, the mind lose its control due to nervous breakdown, the mind runs wild, trying to make up itself, what to utter after 'hello'. and in every, "tuuuut tut...tuuuut tut" the hearts beats with its rhythmic sound. high and low.

probably many have experienced that krazy gushing feeling.

but how you ever felt the sheer dissapointment when after a long awaiting of the ringing, the one that answers the call is nobody but the voicemail. again. and again. 3 buckets of water into a tiny fire of bravery. all that was left was ashes of discouragement. all the anxiousness, nervousness, excitement drained out in a vertical plummet.

probably beginner's luck failed. allocating a second surge of encouragement and bravery to pick up the phone and dial a string of 33 numbers. resulted in nothing but an endless ringing tone. never been picked up. no voice. no life. no hope.

that is when emotions unleash themselves without control.

and probably third is the final attempt. guess what, there was the voice. there was the life, there was the hope. but the voice the life the hope, could not hear the voice on this line. how many hellos does it take to finally tell you that, "1 time or 10 times, if it can't hear, it can't hear, quit being a parrot"? well, i guess, 4? hear and not be heard. thats the best it can only go.

this phone call..

smat jatra, gu.

do you remember how back in Convent Kota, on those blue Mondays assemblies, when the guru besar would be giving her speech, or when during those after-recess lectures or even in-class soul-searching-aimlessly sessions, the teachers would stress and stress time and time again, that, "ada di kalangan kamu yang sangat sombong. bila berjalan lalu dengan cikgu, jalan saja, tak pun berhenti untuk ucap cikgu, 'selamat sejahtera'. lain kali, kalau lalu depan cikgu, ucaplah selamat sejahtera.."

such great emphasis had had psychological effect on us. constantly trying to prove those teachers and their statements wrong, we would ucap. in the long corridor of Convent Kota, as soon as we see a vague image of a walking teacher, or a shadow of an approaching teacher, or when we hear the creepy footsteps of a teacher getting louder and louder, we would automatically put on wide smile eyes open wide and cute and tongue all set in the position to utter, 'se...'.

so much so that the culture is so deeply engraved in us that, although we do not want to ucap, but it comes out uncontrollably. the smile, the cute wide eyes and the selamat sejahtera, cikgu. dalam hati kata, 'malasnyerr nak bukak mulut.' tapi ekpsresi muka tetap senyum, tetap 'selamat pagi, cikgu.'

not only do we ucap every teacher we meet along the corridor, we give a lil cute bow. like those of japanese culture. what more can you ask from a bunch of young untamed pupils? a bow and a nod and ucapan? too good to be true.

when in menengah Convent, teachers never had problems with us Convent Kota because we are so [too] well-trained. but the ucapan has evolved. from 'selamat sejahtera cikgu', to 'smat jahtra gu' and a nod of the head, but eyes looking through the teacher.

as teenagers, we tend to not want to follow commands, whatmore to be asked to ucap cikgu bila bertemu di koridor sekolah. but see, we still do it, though may not be as precise as we used to do it in Convent Kota, but we still do it. it is like you cannot not urinate when shitting. thus, when our eyes spot a teacher, the mind automatically tells us to ucap, senyum, without consciousness.

but then you see, i believe that this is not a culture widely practiced in other schools, though to us, it seem like a common culture. we are indeed so obedient and i dare say that if we were asked and molded to ucap, smile, bow and end it with a curtsy, we would, until we are 17!

Pemandangan indah.

Jatuh
-lagu nyanyian Adam.

(dipapar di blog Jennifuck)

"Di manakah pemandangan terindah di dunia?
Puas ku cari setelah jauh melangkah
Hingga takdir menyuluh ke arah mu
Ku temu pemandangan itu terlakar di wajahmu

Dengan setiap renungan
Terpesona ku rasakan
Dengan setiap belaianmu hati makin tersentuh

Oh kasih, oh kasih
Ku berterima kasih
Padamu kerana menyempurnai hidupku

Dalam berjuta-jutaan lagu
Tiada satupun dapat menenteramkan kalbu
Melainkan bila kau menyebut
Ke telinga bahawa kau juga sayang padaku

Dengan setiap lafaz kata
Harapan makin menyinar
Untuk kita bersama membina hidup bahagia"

balasan saya:

Pandangan Mata Dia

pemandangan yang indah nun bahagia,

bersinar secerah cahaya,

berkilauan lalu memukau saya,

pemandangan itu pandangan mata dia.

jika dunia sudah saya terokai,

dari timur ke barat saya menjelajahi,

beribu-ribu manusia saya temui,

tetapi hanya pandangan mata dia saya ingati.

pandangan mata itu mengajar saya

erti bahagia,

pandangan mata itu sempurna;

tiada lain yang setanding dengannya.

pandangan dia berwarna perang,

tegas, manis dan sentiasa tenang,

memekarkan hati bila dikenang,

hingga lain kali saya didatangi peluang.