suffering.

There are a lot of types of suffering. But the most common one, is being hurt.

But some of you need to know, that watching the one you love being hurt, is not only a suffering, 

it's also what I called as a torture.

I love my mama.

Despite her babbling all the times. I love her. I will always do.

I might deny her rights of getting worried about me, because I hate it when she do that.

But what can I do, that's her right for being a mama.

To worry about me, to get paranoid for me, to worry about her child.

Because it's her child.

My mama always have this panic attack, whenever I told her that I'm going somewhere adventurous.

like maybe to the woods, to the beach, to the lake, or even to hike a mountain.

She always imagine me, getting there, but not getting back home somehow.

I don't blame her imagination, for all I know maybe I got those talent of imagining too much from her.

hahaha. But yeah, you got the point. She worries. A LOT.

But I always, well how do I say, cheated on her, a little. Just a little.

Sometimes, when I have the guts.

I only told her after I went somewhere so she can't be mad at me,

so she can't envisioned me, in a total catastrophe somewhere she haven't even been.

Because she have this power, I called it 'tulah mama', when she said something bad, sometimes that something bad can happen.

Which is the precise thing I wouldn't want to happen when I want to go somewhere.

I always get into this quarrel with her.

It's not bad, it's just that it is really bad ones.

We can fight until I cried, or worse, I made her cried.

Yeah, you can call me a very derhaka daughter or whatsoever, 

but this is how we communicate, 

I always get mad at her, and so does her in another way around.

But things will always get better,

I will snapped at her, and she will to, at me.

And when that happen I will tell her everything, 

And she will tell me everything,

and that's when everything will become better.

When we are honest with each other.

I never understood my mother's approach before this.

She always wanted to be best friend with her kids.

and I love that idea, but I just don't love the idea when I report to her about something and she freaked out.

But now as I grew older, I realized what she's trying to do after all.

She's trying to keep me close.

Albeit the fact that I quarrel with her heck tonnes of times,

but in those quarrel I always knew what she feels, and she knew mine.

And that's what best friend do right?

I never get why she worries so much.

Before.

But now I get it,

I get the feeling of being helpless and hopeless when something bad happen to the one that you love.

Mama's been sick for a month, we don't even know why. We go to several clinics and hospital and every doctor said that mama is fine. But here's the deal, she's not. And she's not getting any better.

At first I thought it was just in her mind.

Mama had this way of, somehow exaggerating a lot of things. 

And I thought that she exaggerated her feelings of sickness.

That maybe it's only in her head.

so the first few weeks were when I mentally pushed her.

I asked to her to be tougher, I tell her that everything was a play of mind.

I told her about placebo effects, god I even play with psychological terms.

I told her that she's tougher than anything else.

That it's okay. That she's okay.

And she will get through this.

But she didn't.

She still get sick.

And every methods comes out. From the superstitious believes and whatnot,

we tried everything, 

ustaz coming over,

salt all over the house, for barrier  they said.

I'm not so into all of this, but that doesn't mean I won't believe it.

but until now, the thing is still the same.

Mama is still sick.

And I couldn't take it today.

So I cried. Alone, in my bedroom.

To Him, so that He can hear me, and I know He can.

And I beg, 

and I plead,

And kneel,

So that He can take away all those pain from her.

Or at least give her strength to fight it away,

because I already lost mine.

I can't take it anymore,

because I feel so hopeless and helpless,

like I'm no use to her.

Mama always come to my room, lay beside me,

asking me to massage her in which I did,

and then she will look me in the eye,

all watery,

And said "I'm so sorry I get sick."

And everytime she do that, I tell myself to keep it all in, 

don't cry you can't cry never ever dare to cry infront of her

And so I did.

I put on my smiling face, and make a joke. And said,

"Jangan begitu dong, Intan harus kuat, harus semangat" with my annoying indonesian accent.

There are this sinetron at astro Ria long ago, story about this Intan, that whenever something

bad happen to her, she will tell herself that.

And so my family members always said to each other this joke, whenever things gets hard, and it always worked.

And I tried that to myself tonight,

but I didn't work.

So I burst myself to tears.

My mom is apologizing to me for being sick.

THAT IS WRONG.

THAT IS SO WRONG 

that the reason I wanted to cry is because I was so mad and so sad and felt so helpless when she said that.

My mom always said, that her children are the pillars of her life.

She got stronger for us.

Just for us.

I might be all iron up.

I might look tough, especially infront of her.

Mama always said to me,

"You are the most hati kering punya budak"

And I always laugh and give her my kening double jerk.

And said, "Well I'm your daughter" and a wink.

But she doesn't know that I cried for her.

Because I need to be tough for her.

Because if I don't, how can she be?

Because I'm one of her pillar.

I need to be concrete.

So today here I am writing this, writing my heart out.

Just wanting to share a story with you guys, 

after I try to dry my eyes up.

so that you guys will appreciate every moments you have with your mom.

Just like how I did with mine.

And I will love your kindness, if you guys can pray for my mama to be healthy soon

:)

Thank you so much.

P/s: my mom sickness, or rather not a sickness, but it's not like cancer or whatsoever, but she's sick, and she's suffering and she's my mom and so I'm worried. That's why I really hope you guys can pray for her. I really love for her to be all healthy for this ramadhan. And thank you :)

For dreams

I have done reading TFIOS.

And currently reading  Looking For Alaska.

And I haven't even finished reading Peculiar children yet.

God I wanted to read everything yet people keep hijacking my reading spirit sprint.

And then I wanted to write.

Still wanting to write.

Even when I have absolutely no idea what to talk about.

So today, I went to legoland. 

For the first time, contrary to the fact that I lived at JB and I should have went there long time ago, but I didn't, in fact I didn't even went in the Legoland I mean the main theme park we just walk along the mall they have there, mind to tell you the ticket to enter legoland is extremely expensive, well in my kind of sense. I could not afford such luxury for a temporary happiness.

I can afford a free permanent happiness and memories if I wanted too.

And besides, Legoland is more to kids fairy land kind of sort.

USS might sounds more better though, even if it kinda cost the same or even might be higher.

So as I was walking along the mall and streets of legoland,

I mean this glorified theme park lego-based and everything,

and when I was in the car and saw how my city, my JB city have changed a LOT.

I just couldn't resist of this feeling of nostalgia and somehow this feeling of lost.

Like it seems to me I lost something.

Like something is never going to be the same.

Like with this whole urbanisation, there's a bit of my soul were taken with it.

And then I realised that I was having this kind of panic attack.

This feelings of wanting things to stay the way they were before.

This feeling of fear.

Of not wanting to grow up 

Even when I am in the process of it.

But it's not the feeling of fear or the resentment of the whole glorifying-the-city project or whatsoever

that I want to emphasize here.

It's the feeling that I get, when I see my city changing to a more vibrant colours.

That I feel like,

"This is it."

That this is why I needed to be more successful, be more hardworking.

To chase whatever it is that I wanted to be, whatever I have dreamt of,

and it's not really for the sake of the city 

or even for the reason that my city might've changed so much that I needed to keep pace with it.

It's just that I felt,

if my city can changed so much,

if all these people can think so much on how to improve and bring comfort to other people,

let's toss aside the materialistic matter for awhile now shall we?

I mean if they can work so hard in making the dreams of other people come true,

why can't I try my best to make sure that my dreams will come true too?

I mean,

why not?

P/s: For dreams.

Flaws

So here are a list of some of my "flaws".

1. sepet
2. suara helium
3. average height
4. tanned
5. have this weird smile
6. laugh at almost everything, even the slightest thing I think was funny even if it's a grave matter
7. Care at certain time, not all the time. I sometimes think that enough is enough. Simply saying I'm not that caring sangat kinda person, but I'll poke my nose to your business if I needed to.
8. have this fear of commitment
9. hate frogs
10. claustrophobic
11. kinda awkward at the first encounter
12. avid procrastinator
13. hated PDA, no hate is a strong word how about dislike?
14. conveyed my feelings through writing much more better than speaking it
15. bodoh maths
16. tak suka jog, malas senam
17. I don't plan anything in my life I just do what I want to do
18. I don't even finance or manage my money for god sake
19. I eat what I want regarding the prices.
20. which basically means I'm dumb and careless
21. hated zombies
22. can't watch psychotic movies because I'll have nightmares and starting to question the humanity
23. fear of commitment.

..... and more to go.

BUT.

I love all of my flaws.

And to those who do love them and still stick with me.

Thank you :)

Pace.

You know what it's freaking 3.11 am in the morning and tomorrow I might go to BBW at Danga City Mall, and here I am ranting in my blog. And, um I don't even know why. 

All my family members have went to sleep.

And here I am.

I don't even know why I just feel the urge and need to write.

You see I'm having this self conflict where I debate with myself.

I always think in one way or another I have changed.

That maybe,

I'm different than before, heck that's the whole purpose saying that I've changed.

Arjuna Beta - Fynn Jamal is currently singing at the background

But you know what?

Maybe after all I did not changed.

That maybe I thought that I've changed but I'm not.

It's just in my head, what if that is what I want to think of?

What if all this was just me, assuring myself that I have progressed further, than just merely adapting and fitting in into the society? But the fact was the total opposite?

I thought I was braver, but.. really, wasn't I just delaying myself, or holding myself from something greater, or in other exact words, doesn't it look like I was just hiding.

From the bitter truth of reality?

Maybe after all I'm still scared.

Maybe after all I'm still being overly protective.

Maybe after all, I'm still this little girl inside me who have it a little bit hard during my childhood period.

Maybe after all I'm just killing time. 

Or buying it.

Funny, how this two sentence totally meant differently but can fit into one.

Because If I am killing time then it will be wasting the whole purpose or effort.

And If I were buying some time, it'll meant that I put all my effort into it.

And then the irony is you can't even kill or buy time.

Such wonders, huh?

I have no idea what I'm doing or why I'm doing it or to a certain point now I am starting to question my existence, which is pretty bad, I guess that's what you get after such a long holiday and you were being non-productive person, as I am eating and sleeping constantly like it is a mantra or a beauty charm I have to perform everyday.

What are you doing faz?

The truth is I felt so frustrated with myself.

Day by day I told myself to become better, but yet I don't feel like it.

I wanted to change to be a better muslimah and I still feel like I'm not even putting an effort.

And I see these pretty ladies, with determination and such grace, trying to change day by day to become better.

And here I am.

I'm not even sure if I'm falling backwards or I'm just stumbling down, 

or am I even going further?

You see I wanna go further, but I also wanna go with my own pace.

But sometimes I worried, 

What if my own pace won't make it in time?

You see

In the end,

It's all about my ego.

You have choices in life, 

to do, or not to do.

Choose carefully.

Because that's when everything else starts next.

P/s: I little bit of a self sentap emo advice at the middle of the night. Or morning I supposed.

A-level

I don't know which one is scarier.

The thought of me doing A-level.

Or

The thought of me not doing A-level.

I think both are my greatest nightmare.

So it's already June and I'm still here, not starting any revision at all.

Which is bad. Like really really bad. With the news of AS that we have to take this upcoming January.

And IELTS this October or August I'm not sure between those two. *truth is I don't pay attention in class*

Or maybe after all I am afraid of what the future holds.

When I shouldn't.

I mean I have no right to be worried, when I make no effort at all.

*Dush sebijik kena kat batang hidung*

One moment it seems to absurd, I mean all of this, the subjects and the papers.

Sometimes they make no sense at all.

Sometimes I wonder what the hell am I doing here, I'm not supposed to learn all this, I'm supposed to take up psychology, where minimum numbers required to be learn, and yet here I am back to square one, having to learn maths plus account all over again.

It's like a war that never ends.

Sometimes it gets to a point where everything kill me on the inside, I just asked myself, "Why did I choose this path at the first place?"

I questioned myself.

Where I know I shouldn't. 

Sigh.

But we human can never stop playing the what-ifs 

It's just in the nature.

I asked myself why didn't I take BEN at the first place at UIA wouldn't things be easier?

I mean it's the course that I like, it's English it's about writing what more could I ask?

But you know what?

I have answers for all that.

If I didn't take up this offer, I wouldn't be in Intec, I wouldn't be knowing such great, out-of-space classmates, great people, great silatmate, great organisations, great seniors, great experience that have taught me now, of being someone braver than I was before.

Exposing me to things I never imagined I can do

And besides,

Doesn't He put you on a certain place for a reason?

Indeed He is.

The Greatest Planner.

All I need now is more strength to pursue what I want.

What I dreamed of.

I can do this.

I can do A-level.

We all can.

Just have a little bit more faith.

So you can take a jump.

A leap of faith.

:)

Dreams.

You know what, when I was at the age of 12-13 I have developed this writing habit.

Before I even have a blog.

I write.

I write stories.

You know those times when we still use the big computer, yeah those times. I write stories, short one. Because my imagination just couldn't stop running wild.

And then my mom bought a laptop, the compaq which is heavy.

And I continued writing there. I wrote 2-3 stories, kind of like a novel. There were good, I still remember some of the stories at the back of my head, there were good stories. I'm not sure about the grammar maybe not as good as I am now, *which is not really good either* but I'd reckoned that it was quite awesome for a 12 to 13 years old to write 9-10 pages of full english written story.

That is me, a few years back.

Before I even have this blog.

An avid dreamer I might say, I was before this.

And now I still have a lot of stories going on inside my mind, you know sometimes I create a movie in just one night in my head, and my movie was awesome. *flips hair*

But the thing is now, I don't really write stories.

Which is sad, whenever I want to start writing stories I just figured that it wouldn't received any feedback. Or maybe I might get tired cause I have this tendency to get bored easily. What's even funnier is that now I have my own laptop and writing would be easy. Writing would be a piece of cake, with this technology and all.

But things just kept getting on the way. Or maybe it's just me, and my excuses.

Human, and our excuses huh?

Inseparable.

And so I decided to write again. Tonight.

After this.

When I have ideas.

I'll try to draft it out, and make sure that at least one of my stories, or ideas finished before the end of this sem break. I really hope I do. And I really hope I finished reading all of the books that I've bought.

For dreams ey?

For dreams it is.

P/s: I love that sensation you have when you write. I miss it and I hope I can feel it soon.