insight.

p/s: i deleted this entry, and left few sentences for your reading. sorry. that was immature writing.

Life is like a flowing river, it goes forward to the estuary then flowing to the blue ocean. And I choose to go in line with the current instead of paddling up to the upstream.

perbualan Rasullullah dengan Iblis -1
perbualan Rasullullah dengan iblis -2

perbualan Rasullullah dengan iblis -3

credit to one of my good friends: Arina AA. and by the way, in case you read this here's few more than words for you;
1. i can't wait to see you again. when u'll be back for good?
2. i tried to find copies of pergilah lara but none to be found. i guess i'll just have to smile sweetly, hence you lend me your copy, like usual.

blue and weekends.

gigi biru

I don’t know who came out with the idea of its name, might be someone who’s that super invention is his/hers or else from took it from someone who adores blue so much. When I say blue, I can’t help but thinking about Chelsea. Whenever my mind gives a thought about Chelsea, I started to feel how unfaithful and disloyal I am, turned my back from most of their games. I don’t know how my interest to follow football; English premier league preferably came to the end. Tired of watching people running all over the field, chasing an old ball. Mungkin. Oh, truths to be told I quite dislike some skeptical guys who think girls watch football with only one sole purpose which is to eyeing their favorite handsome players on the field. Come on guys. We’re not that shallow, even some of us spend time to watch the entire game not just few glimpses to that so called favorite handsome players. After all, as for me, what to look at if my preference spend most of his time on the bench throughout the game? LOL.

recap of the weekends with my sister.

1. watching KLCC. yeah, i watched, not looked. staring if you may put as well. haha

2. roti boy. oh boy, never felt better. that reminds me so much of my early teenage years.

3. charlie st cloud. you know the only reason why i picked that film above anything else showing on the same day. :D 

4. talking and listening; catch ups.

very tired. my foot sore. but came back with one big happy heart :)

p/s: thanks angah for the early birthday present. the red thing, and for like the flowing river. that, definitely a very good present.

thank you

angan-angan, impian, matlamat, cita-cita, harapan saja tak cukup.
yang penting, USAHA.
selebihnya, kita tawakkal.

we reap what we sow, sayang.

I let out my worries to my sister, unintentionally. then, she said quietly but loud enough for my soul to hear;
"fight for it".
i looked at her and nodded my head.

thank you thank you thank you thank you Allah. alhamdulillah.

.....it ends tonight,untitled.

It starts with Hans Zimmer; the battle.

Clark and Lana.
(read till the end, then you'll figure what's about this picture)

picture1:google image.

One thing that’s good about instrumental is that it could pause the time, even though the clock on the wall is ticking as usual. That’s the thing about instrumental. However, hardly it is to find the right time where the power of instrumental find its way to govern yours truly. I haven’t felt this way for such quite a while. One of the reasons might be due to absence of keeping in touch with the good melody without vocals. Nevertheless, I’m forever grateful to be gifted with hearing and all. Alhamdulillah.

People can really change with time. The relationship for human’s change and time is linear, mostly. Yet if we plot a graph on certain minor/major group of walking and breathing ignorant, we may find their graph is constant. Not the changing is constant, but no change at all; zero or a tad too small as we can’t see the difference with the gifted pair of eyes. Not that I’m saying my graph is linear up, of course there are downs and crooks here and there, and constant too. I just don’t wanna live in denial by refusing to admit the factual truth to you, or to myself but well, I’m working on it. Isn’t a life is life-learning for improvement process?

I just read on the net about Stephen Hawking after he was being mentioned by my roommate just now. We talked about how his brain is somewhat “berair” or something and yeap, you should really google about him too. He has ALS and all, and his nerves have started to break down since he was 21. I am nearly 22 and most of my friends already are but we haven’t suffered from any illness or killer diseases. That point should be really taken into consideration, dear friends (that’s including myself). So again, Alhamdulillah as we have air in our lungs, mothers that love us much despite we might not as brilliant as Hawking or Einstein or Tun Mahathir.

 And as for me who is anxious towards one sole matter, thinking how Hawking copes up with his life all these years could just draw away those negativity. Really. besides, I have spent little portion of my time today by reading a very good book (I’ll discuss that book later, if I know I how to put the values into words.hehe) and yeap, playing squash. Both are therapy to anything ugly I've to go thru and lift my spirit quite a bit higher than usual. Needless to mention, steaming hot Nescafe (I just like this word so much) right in the morning which is my all time favourite can really magnify my happiness to a bigger magnitude for today. Which means; rotten and stink mood turned to be a wonderful with colorful rainbow on the background, one in a million as the soundtrack and such. or, Julian Morris appears in my view in the middle of nowhere with a mug of steaming hot nescafe that leads to endless of good and long conversation. (stop! my daydream skills is proven here, more or less)

Oh, we were talking about instrumental. Don’t get me wrong, am not a really a big fan of Vanessa Mae or Maksim or else Beethoven but well, for me, instrumental is just not merely instrumental. One way or another, it soothes you to the core, albeit not to the deepest. At least, that’s one of the way and still, if the negativity still lingers around, for fellow muslims; I believe we know what’s best to do even your heart is screaming out loud not to.

Oh by the way, I have a lot going on in my mind before I decided to write yet for the time being this is all I can manage. I’m really becoming more secretive these days, eh? I quite think so too. After all, those secrets aren’t crucial in my life or yours so I bet, not a big deal. The big deal for today is about me getting sleepy and be ready for morning class tomorrow. such a dork sentence to finish with.

It ends with Vanessa Mae; Romeo and Juliet.

No, it ends with it ends tonight and untitled.

p.s: untitled. the good old days during foundation years. had my dinner with a friend named syui at USM cafe. smallville was on tv. that song never sounded so good before, but well it really fits the end scene of the episode. i could still play the series of images of Clark Kent, big wide football field, he disappeared into the gloomy darkness. (SmallVille Season 4, Episode 13; Recruit).

and, that's the only episode of smallVille I ever watched, but never slip away from my mind.

speed of sound in life.

picture1: google image.

let's sing a song~

I’m lost in any perfect rhyme. I can easily lose in beautiful melody. Of perfect or beautiful for each, both are in my own term. I may not like the kind of music you listen to, but still I can listen to it with you in some solitude nights where we don’t have to pronounce a single word. Yes, even if you are a stranger. Having said that, I mean the nice one but not who wants to burn me into ashes. (scary really).

picture2:  google image.

picture3: google image.

I've discovered myself is in line with their music.

Music. It really has its own way to touch people’s heart. I don’t learn to play music but the inexplicable traits in me have a spot for it. Like the aforementioned statement, the songs I don’t get bored to hear don’t have to be exactly awarded by billboard awards  or whatsoever because I just simply like what I like.

I was always trying to find what it is really that makes a song very groovy to my eardrums. And my searching drew to the end when my one of my friends blurted out,

“drum yang buat lagu sedap kan”

Yeah, I couldn’t agree more.

Oh, the word drum itself reminds me to someone who is now unseen to my eyesight, yet forever near at heart. She’s one of best friends I’m blessed with, a girl that chases her dream regardless what’s in between, and never fails to check on me every now and then too. Moreover, hopefully she’s going to give me free dental treatment once in a while later on. Bole lah? Plis.

well, 

Every song eventually ends. But that doesn’t mean that you can’t enjoy the melody.

Very true it is. That applies to our daily lives too. Life begins and ends.

but, why can we/I be so ungrateful saying life isn’t fair and all because more often than not, we reap what we sow? that’s law. Rather than to accuse this and that, it’s best to say Alhamdulillah and be better, right?

Alhamdulillah~

of sunrise, milky way, boulevards, and a girl.

feeling inspired by Boulevard of Broken Dreams, Drops of Jupiter and Starlight thus i wrote this one :)

the girl.
(http://images2.layoutsparks.com/1/49697/girly-abstract-lovely-view.jpg)

He thought I was bluffing when I told him I wandered around the Jupiter and Mars, and if I had a chance to go there once again I would bring drops of Jupiter back for him. He asked me if I unintentionally overdosed the ecstasy he passed to me this morning but I tell you now, I did lie and still I did not lie. Please don’t get strangle reading my words; I lied about the fact I walked through the milky way and jumped across the twilight or about touching aurora with my bare hands but still, I did not lie about I would bring goblets of Jupiter’s drops back for him as his birthday presents or I might as well would like to ride fallen star together with him. I meant it. I did.

The sound of drums wakes me up early, very much early this morning. I can hear the birds’ chipping around my cabin, the melodious singing of crickets and the harmonic sound of flowing river. I exhaled hard, trying to pull my nerve all together and get up. My mind still is running from last night’s occasion where I slipped and sprained my ankles during my offhand interest on walking along the Milky Way. Oh yes, very beautiful indeed but my personal favorite always about finding aurora and with a little magic I may fondle it as well. I search for the best excuse to employ the little magic even in the littlest portion and yet luck refused to be with me.  A momentary wait will not kill, I believe so.

I stretch my hands up, slowly walk to the window and whisper good morning to the air. I can clearly see the morning clouds far above behind the oak trees motion gradually. Sky is just like magnificent canvas with luminous and detonation of colors. The sunrise does its trick of tinting and pigmenting where the sky flushes and goes crimson and then turning into hues of florid and golden colors all in the quick of time. Morning, it just really is beautiful. That; paints the beginning of my day and warp my mood.

My view goes farther. I can see boulevard I took yesterday before reaching here where I finally decided to have a brief shelter from the weary journey I have been through yet I know the road is still a long way to go. From here, the picket fence looks suspicious and makes me wonder what could’ve been to on the side, to walk through on the different alley, and perhaps the avenues are lined with flowers rather than sharp thorns and mischievous poison ivy. Again, I have to remind myself of not letting myself entering remorse zone all over again. This path was what I chose without interference from others hence I shall walk to the end, to my ultimate aim along this way. I may find rosebush sooner or later, which I am certain of.

I pace outside, barefooted. As I waltz around, I can feel the coldness of the ground. The grass is covered with dews, mostly. And the mist dances around me, enveloped me inside its muted tune where I am the only one who can hear the synchronizing melody; the sound of morning wind. Abruptly, my ears are greeted with a thoroughly acquainted song that astounds me as I croon along.

Drops of Jupiter, it is. I can see and sense beauty in that. And please, don’t bother because I don’t expect you to. Beauty is subjective, that’s how my definition goes.

I bob my head, agree to the fact that I wanted to ride fallen star with him, or play hide and seek behind the constellation of sparkling stars or at least to have our names carved somewhere on the moon. Anyhow, riding a fallen star together is not a very good idea when one decides to glide through the boreal while the other prefers the austral. As for me, I keep my very own star in my very own heart. You’ll get to share the starlight, when I allow you to share my heart. Till then.