Thursday, December 19, 2013

Walter Johnson

Memories of that morning were rather vague. But I could still remember she got into the classroom with a few others and was immediately asked to perform the speaking task for MUET without time conferred for adequate preparation considering that was perhaps her first time exposed to MUET speaking, and first day in that school. Coincidentally, I was in the same group with her.

Was that how it all started? I wasn't quite sure. She happened to sit around the same table with me for the first semester, and right beside me for the second and third. We were friends just before we knew it. Who would have seen it coming? That we would talk and gossip together about Guy A and Guy B, Girl C and Girl D. That she would happily spare me her food for my stomach that yearned for food 99.99% of the time. (This is very very important. Love her mom's cheese cake amg...) That we would complain of being sleepy during lessons. General Studies lessons especially. Even the thought of it made me yawn. ~.~ That we would hang out for movies together. That she would listen to me ranting about my problems while I enjoyed making her feel bad because there wasn't much she could do and vice versa. That I would take loads of selfie with her and delete them because I felt I looked really bad in them. (heh heh...) Those little things everyone might have done. They seemed unimportant. But those seemingly unimportant things had built us. And I was assured there was more to come in our friendship.

So this birthday girl deserves a shoutout.


Enjoy your special day and stay aweeeeeeeeeeeesome! <3 p="">

My little confession: Your laugh is too damn infectious. It's shoo funny. T_T

Hold On For Dear Love

Reading back my previous post, it felt extremely emotional and regretful. That sinful me. That innocent me. Those damaged, messed up times we all wish we could turn back. We made ourselves believe everything happened for a reason.

However reluctant I was, I could not deny that there was perhaps truth in "everything happened for a reason". These ordeals we had been put through would serve as a reminder, forever and always, for us to not repeat those mistakes that promised anguish, that we now had learned how to keep friendship alive and whatnots.

Everything happened for a reason. Those words resonated across the room. I found myself unable to come to terms with that statement. Reasons? What reasons? With prices that would break our hearts?


Then again, I guess everyone deserved a happy ending. And I felt blessed that I could proudly say I had found the happy ending. I was glad I was given chances to start new and find a place where I belonged. I was grateful I had met them, those friends in the sixth form in SMKKB. Our friendships were still new and young. That, I was well aware of. But I would hold on to them, as long as I could.

Saturday, November 16, 2013

I Wish

I thought I was the only one who messed up. I really did think so. Of course I appreciate the different friends I had met in my high school years. Some with amazingly awesome personalities. But honestly, when I look back, I didn't feel happy. I didn't miss it like how a lot of my other acquaintances had told me high school life was the best time of their life where friendships blossomed and stayed, where people were kind and helpful, unlike the brutal outside world even in college. Not even a mite that I felt high school life was worthy and blessed. I just generally didn't have fond memories of high school. Maybe I did have some. But the negative far over-weighed the positive.

It was a shame to remind myself it was my ignorance and ego that contributed to the demise of my (high school) friendships. But then again my ego would not allow me to take all the blame on myself. We had all been through those difficult times. The boycott play. The love for a second then hatred for days for no solid reason. The pointless endless attempts at comparing with each other to prove our superiority against another. Guessing all the time because we were too curious to know what they were scheming on our backs and misunderstanding at every insignificant gestures, like a Facebook status or a facial expression that was not in our favour.

There were times when even being sad was wrong and should be hated upon. The reckless gossiping session, not realizing we might be too hard one the ones we poured our hate on. The foolish and silly act to point out others' mistakes, then magnify it without realizing how catastrophic was the supposedly heroic act, thinking you had the prowess, that you were holding justice right in your hands. Those pretty colossal mistakes. We all thought we were right.

Happy times were always short but it was still difficult to fathom how friendships could turn into something so nasty. The distance between us kept growing, way faster than we could handle. I had been very mean to some. The irresponsible, egotistic me. Still, I would not take all the blame on myself because doing so was just unfair. We all had very small hearts.

Bury the hatchet.

That seemed like the most morally correct solution. But deep down we all knew it was difficult to reestablish those friendships. Hate on each other continued to find its way to crawl back. How could we possibly be genuinely happy just talking to each other, when you had sworn you would forget how that particular person had done wrong upon you only after forever? How despicable and bitchy that face was. I know right.

The purpose of this post is not to spark any discontent, indignation or fury. I only wished I had a wonderful high school life. I wished I wasn't so stupid to help ruining those friendships. I wished high school memories were my pride. But those wishes remained as mere wishes. We couldn't turn back time. But we certainly have full control of our future. Life is too short to be spent hating on each other. It's tiring. Everyone knows that.

Friday, November 15, 2013


I kept myself buried in the blanket she had made for me. It was so difficult to handle the disgruntlement and poignancy she had conferred me that I refused to get out of bed, for a while. The faint amount of sanity she had left me compelled me to talk in my head, complaining how unreasonable she was, how she shouldn't have done what she did, as if there was someone who had enough credibility to comprehend what I was going through, to fully understand my side even if it was difficult for the world to. Frustration had taken over me, at least that was what I thought.

I felt her approaching me, while trying to reason why another innocent "turned against her" in her daily preach.

"I believe in what she has just said in the phone," I said hesitantly.

"You really think so? That she is worth the trust?"

"Because even you didn't believe in me. I would totally understand how difficult it is to be not trusted."

I was still tucked in the blanket. I didn't know uttering those words would bring tears to my eyes. I thought I was only frustrated at the unjust treatment. I was wretched and grief-stricken in fact that I almost gave it away in the tremor of my voice. But yes, she didn't even realize the importance of what I had just said. And I could only come to comforting myself under the blanket with the shed of devalued tears and gathering myself together afterwards.

Wednesday, November 13, 2013


I don't need you to constantly feed me with accusation. I have feelings too. I try to compromise every time you make those remarks. But it's something that should never, ever be tolerated. Complaining bout how everyone is turning his back against you. If you have so much distrust in even your loved ones, sorry to say it's only a matter of time they stray away from you, without guilt.

But I will try my very best to activate selective hearing defect. Words I don't wanna hear, why must it come from you?

Monday, October 28, 2013


Every time she says it like she really sees it coming. And I just brush it off, washing away those words thinking about the best that could happen instead of the opposite. If it really does, at this moment, then it's the worst kind of coincidence at the worst timing. I wouldn't know what to feel but one thing's for sure. That I'll be left in remorse of agony. And I'll move on while holding on to this pain for life, despite barely remembering it.

Monday, October 14, 2013

The Escape

The sky was no longer young. I couldn't tell whether it was late in the night or too early in the morning. The moon was nowhere in my sight when I looked up to the dark sky, so dark as if promising me some sort of incoming perils. I tossed my head away, looking at the people around me. They were not very well-dressed and designer clothing would be more than exorbitance to them.  They were the homeless and abandoned. The betrayed and alone. The feeling that they'd had very difficult pasts came strong for no reason and all of them seemed to have overcome their problems and come this far in their lives. I dared not ask any question in the fear that I might offend them, unintentionally cutting open the wounds that had been feeding on them in total brutish.

It took me a few minutes to realize myself interacting with them in that seemingly abandoned parking lot, with a few vehicles located at different corners; they were so scattered they were not even parked properly. We were exchanging our goods, negotiating prices and engaging ourselves in the oddest trade of all. We had important stuffs like food for survival to limited edition Pokemon cards. (Don't ask me why Pokemon cards, I don't even know.)

Everything seemed calm and forgiving until a tiger whom existence was taken granted for, softly growled.

Yes, the promised perils.

As if planned ahead, everyone grew into silence in unison. Fear was slowly engulfing the people, including the timid me. It was only pure rationale to immediately depart from that jeopardous place. Two men and I quickly ascended a van with one of the men as the driver. What could be seen from my window seat was people finding their way out and climbing into other vehicles in the hope to save themselves from the ghastly, raging hungry tiger.

The driver punched the van towards the exit, like people escaping from villains in an action movie (or vice versa). We almost came into a disastrous collision with the shoddily designed small exit. What I thought was true was apparently wrong. We were not abandoned. Instead, we were held captive. But there was nothing a few unarmed guards could do with a racing van. We broke through a few exits to finally see daylight. We were safe.


It was a few years later that I saw myself clad in a black dress, taking moderately fast steps to that familiar van. It was the same van. I cautiously got into the van to only see a whole lot of impolite students, as I randomly heard vulgarity and cuss words being excessively practiced in their conversations. The driver was someone I know but I could barely tell who she was. Then, I saw the two men who saved me, or rather, who escaped the horrible scene with me a few years ago, coincidentally clad in black too. A faint smile was exchanged between us, as though everything was understood.

This was actually what I dreamed of this morning. Often times, I dream about escaping. I dream about being attacked by monsters, ghosts or just anything that can prove harmful to me. I don't know why I could see this similar pattern in my dream, that I am always escaping. And it's also unexplained that sometimes I could remember these vividly. So as soon as I woke up this morning, I decided to pen them down, or shall I say, to transform the dream to what you have just read in front of a computer screen. So yeah, peace out!

Thursday, April 4, 2013

Nothing but, nothing

She's a very sensitive person. And a very sensitive person can only take that much.

Words can be mind-blowingly beautiful. They, too, can hurt and kill.

A friendly expression can light up one's day. The opposite can ruin everything, no matter how much you think you didn't mean it.

Maybe her being a b**** is the reason why jerks are all around her.

Tears are nothing but, nothing.

Bizarre Indian Old Lady

I'm actually super mega relieved that I've moved to Kepong Baru (very near to my current school I'm studying in), if you haven't known already. This really cuts the frills. My mom doesn't have to fetch me to and fro school. Most importantly, I do not need to wait for her for what seems like hours anymore. Hah! But rumour has it that all the sixth formers in KL will need to be garnered to a building in Desa Park City specialized merely for us, unlike the current system, where the sixth formers are dispersed to myriad different secondary schools. (aww)

So for now, my everyday morning routine is to get my arse off the bed at 6:30a.m., the most torturous moment of the day when I have to fight my eyelids closing every time I endeavor to get up. I don't get up by myself though. I have a 24/7 complaining mother who gets extremely put off if I don't become magically awake after the first time she attempted waking me up, like, saying, "Ning, 起来咯~(get up lo)" in a super tender voice. Yes, only after the very first time when she knows I stay up late every single night doing productive stuffs. *coughcough*

I'm almost always almost late to school every morning. Uh, does that even sound right? *lookup&think* It makes sense to me anyway. (lol) But I'd rather run to school every morning than to lose an extra 5-minute shuteye. It's essentiallllll. At least running is... is some sort of healthy sport in the morning. I feel like I'm speaking against my conscience. ._.

In the beginning, I thought I was only imagining things when I thought I saw a silhoutte watching me every single time I pass by that junction just near school. Apparently, I am not. There's this Indian lady standing behind her gates, clad in what looks like some two-piece clothes pervaded with some traditional Indian elements or is that simply a pyjamas? For what I can recall, she has short, black hair with lots of grey streaks and she wears a pair of glasses.

It's somewhat vague in my mind because every day I just rush pass her to be real certain I step into the school compound right before 7:15. I'm literally running like a horse. But the fact is that the way she looked perched there every morning, watching whatever I don't perceive as interesting, just bothers the hell out of me. It's kind of, creepy? She should go get breakfast with her kids or something. And I wonder if she has kids. If it's negative, then it's really saddening. Who on earth leaves their own mom standing behind the gates in the wee hours?

Tuesday, January 1, 2013

Innocent Man

Have you ever felt the struggle to keep everything inside while waiting for people, your friends for instance to discover the problems and quandaries you're facing? Huuuuuuuge paradox. That's what stupid people do. Mind readers are not all over the streets. I'm one of those stupid people, really.

I don't have the guts to daringly announce my problems on Facebook anymore because I thought that is just annoying. I should be looking for solutions, not ranting and be irritating and make myself look like a fool. But since I have nowhere to pour my heart out, I always end up soaking myself up with tears. Eww, so ugly. I know right.

Anyway, here's a quote that really motivates me when I'm down, depressed and stuff. Love this quote to death.

I can survive. Dying is hell. Why is living supposed to be hell?

Everything's gonna be alright. =D