I didn't want to wake up today.

I haven't felt this way in a while. What was my trigger though? Was it the fatigue? The lack of alcohol or the Xanax?

The rainy weather makes me moderately happier, though.

Dead End Road

The traveller realized that for a while now she had been driving blindly down a one way street that ultimately led to a cul de sac. All the while she had been expecting to see another person approach from the other direction, meet her halfway to at least remind herself that something else existed; that it wasn't just her.

In the distance, she thought she spotted a crossroads. The predictably unpredictable traveller looked on the rest of the journey with induced cheerfulness and decided to cross that particular bridge when she got there.

Double Scotch with a shot of Amnesia, please.

I have been carrying the burden of knowing for nearly three months now. There are some days when the thought never even crosses my mind, but most days I feel the need to curl up into a ball on my bed... be as small as possible so that it doesn't hurt as much... and It is all I can think about.

It.

When I think of It, I cannot even think of the complete THING because I can't bear to. It hurts too much. Even now, even writing this, I cannot go on.

Erase and rewind, please?

I have an uncanny ability of writing people off. As if they were characters in the planning stages of a novel I am writing.

It used to be easy. I would decide to be done with them and after that fact, they would simply cease to exist in my consciousness.

I don't wonder why it's not possible to do the same with you because I know: the planning stage is over; the printers have started and you are a flesh and blood character.

Turn the page, this is merely the prologue.

Fortune Cookie

You are open and honest in your philosophy of love.

As usual, she allowed a smile to grace her lips at the silly bit of fluff before tossing the fortune aside to pick up the mint resting on the receipt. Philosophy is right.

What most of her peers accepted as authorative, she regretfully shied away from.

To good reason.

Daily Idiom

On the horns of a dilemma.
If you are on the horns of a dilemma,
you are faced with a choice
between two equally unpleasant options.

To free fall to a possible painful end or to save myself before the jump and never know if Disneyland was waiting at the bottom?

Sitting, Waiting, Wishing

It's just unfair. There she thought that she was the only person in the world who had ever gone through that particular emotional roller-coaster, however she had missed the fact that there was quite a line growing behind her and that the ride was already going while she was still waiting on the safe, hard ground.

The unfairness that this particular hormonally challenged teenager was referring to was the fact that somebody else had already found the perfect words to describe the feelings she was having. It didn't help that they happened to match it to a good tune and then made money out of it, either.

But there she went, for the umpteenth time that day, and reached for her iPod, scrolling through her list til she found it again. The words flowed easily from her sore heart:

Now I was sitting waiting wishing
That you believed in superstitions
Then maybe you'd see the signs
But Lord knows that this world is cruel
And I ain't the Lord, no I'm just a fool
Learning loving somebody don't make them love you

Must I always be waiting waiting on you?
Must I always be playing playing your fool?

I sing ya songs I dance a dance
I gave ya friends all a chance
Putting up with them wasn't worth never having you
And maybe you been through this before
But its my first time
So please ignore
The next few lines cause they're directed at you

I cant always be waiting waiting on you
I cant always be playing playing your fool
I keep playing your part
But its not my scene
Wont this plot not twist?
I've had enough mystery.
Keep building me up, then shooting me down
Well im already down
Just wait a minute
Just sitting waiting
Just wait a minute
Just sitting waiting

Well if I was in your position
Id put down all my ammunition
I'd wondered why'd it taken me so long
But Lord knows that I'm not you
And If I was I wouldn't be so cruel
Cause waiting on love ain't so easy to do

Must I always be waiting waiting on you?
Must I always be playing playing your fool?
No I cant always be waiting waiting on you
I cant always be playing playing your fool, foool

Was going to post an update.

It could have gone either way: overly personal or too vague.

I think it's best if I keep my words to myself for the time being. Words can wound. I know because I've been stung. So to those who pointed out that I've been silent, that I've been absent...

I'm sorry if I'm making you uncomfortable with my silence.

So... sik jadi.

To the Hackers of my Twitter Account

Hello, hackers of the World Wide Web.

I have been tolerant. I have been amused and I admit, occasionally, I have been supportive (WOO Habbo Invasion). However, when you mess with my Twitter account and post BORING spam (you could at least have been amusing), I find myself unbearably uncompromising and unforgiving.

Love,
Nabs

Day 6

As the hours turn into days, so my hope turns into bitterness.

I used to have the ability of not caring. I miss that power.

HBP was mediocre.

I hate feel good movies. I just sat through Ghost of Girlfriends Past, and like I told Shak, yes I do love chick flicks, but the truth is... I hate the feeling I get after the movie ends (and why the fuck is Firefox putting a red line under movie? It's i before e, except after c, morons). It's like reading fairy tales, the whole and they lived happily ever after thing. I know, I know, everyone who knows me knows that I'm a sucker for romance novels, Disney princess films, fairy tales, chick flicks and all that feel good stuff.

But here's the truth, friends:

I hate them.

I hate the feeling of wanting more, of needing more, of emptiness that I get at the end of the story. So these characters supposedly get their happy ending, but what about the audience? What about us single girls watching these films and reading these books who turn to their side, wishing we had somebody to hold hands with and say:

"I love you..."

I hate love.

Now I'm going to angst on my own and read the scene where Dumbledore dies. Again.

Huh.

So I revamped my blog to enhance my Sarawakian nature. Don't you think the layout is so pretty?!

Anyway, have been having horrible luck with passwords and the internet over the past few days. Went to Aunty Lalita's last night (got there around 2 am) and tried waking Naeem to get the password. He had a fever, so I accidentally woke Aunty Lalita instead. She couldn't remember the password, tried putting it in but I just couldn't access. Today, I'm at Shak's house and he couldn't remember the password either. Uncle Pendi just got home and YAY here I am!

Don't really have anything to share today... besides the fact that I am now more determined than ever to start my own life. I had a plan: Get my own place once I've moved back to Malaysia, get a job, get a car and start my life.

Unfortunately, the Asian culture disagrees with me.

I doubt my father will even entertain the idea of me moving into my own place until I've got a steady job and income. Until then... here I am in my state of forced dependence. The 'rents know to moan at the fact that I am too dependent on them, but when I try to make my own way, try to make at least some moves into starting my own life, they pull out the guilt card (You'll regret saying you want to move out when we're dead!) and play me out to be the ungrateful child.

I'm sorry you gave me a Western education.

I'm sorry my values are distorted.

I'm sorry you feel that way.

The angel on the stairs, will tell you I was there.

You know how the great minds are so often unappreciated during their lifetimes? I'm not saying that I'm one of the great minds... I'm just saying that people so often don't appreciate what they have, who they have, when they have them. The moment the thing, the person, is gone, they notice this great, gaping... hole in their lives where this presence was before and they wish they had taken more care with it, given it more attention, loved it more.

But it's gone.

They're gone.

And in the end, all you're left with are broken promises and empty regrets.

I'm tired. I'm so tired... I won't be around much longer. This constant uphill journey has worn me out, wrung out the good and the bad. I don't regret it, not all of it anyway, it's taught me much about life, about myself... I'll be stronger for it, but right now I'm weakened and can't go on for very much longer.

Just let me go.

I can't sleep

I hate that I did everything I could to wear myself out yesterday so that I could fall asleep early, only to have it not work. I washed three cars, drove around with my siblings, did the grocery shopping, went out for dinner, walked... only to have it all go to waste while I laid in bed, just surfing the internet.

It's not that I was on the internet and let time pass me by. I wish. It's just that, I'm ashamed to admit... I find that I am now unable to sleep on my own. I find I can't fall asleep unless I'm crammed in a bed with other people. I've got this huge space which I remember wishing for when I was staying alone in England in my tiny single bed... the air conditioning is set just nicely, there are no weird smells and my sheets are freshly laundered, my pillows are just the right amount of fluffy.

But I can't sleep.

I need a glass of water. The sun just came up and I'm going to run downstairs, get a tall glass of water, down it and run back upstairs. Have a wee, and hopefully... hopefully I'll pass out as soon as I get back in bed. Sleeplessness sucks.

The Other World

I find that it times of emotional turmoil, the only thing that cheers me up even remotely are my memories of my childhood days. Granted, I didn't have the great childhood spent with many friends, eating ice-cream on the doorstep on hot days and washing the dog under the sprinkler... but I had a good, safe childhood.

One of my favourite memories, something that I was just reminded of today, was one hot African summer. All my friends had gone home for the holidays, the Shell camp was essentially dead as most families had chosen to return to their home countries while the children were out of school. For some reason which I never bothered to discover, my family opted to stay in the small, self-existing Yenzi Camp in a small country situated in the West of Africa - Gabon.

The first few days saw me sitting at the swing in the playground by my house, climbing the tree-house my neighbour's father had built or even screaming out loud as I threw myself down the Flying Fox. Thinking back on it now, it was quite a sad summer... those days spent trying to continue the games I normally played with my term-time friends, only all by myself.

The swing didn't fly as high, the tree-house didn't smell the same and the Flying Fox always left me feeling more alone than before the jump.

On one of those days, I decided to take my swimming kit out and cycled to the Club house. My mum was at home, taking care of my brother Mark, who was only a few months old at the time, and papa was at work. The clubhouse, usually filled with the sounds of children squealing, the pool water splashing, music and the smell of barbecued food, was unbearably quiet.

During the day, the adults went to work or stayed at home, and so there were only a few people sitting around the clubhouse. Some older wives at the cafe by the pool, a solitary older person swimming, and in the distance, the sound of tennis balls hitting the hard court as people practised under the searing sun.

I remember deciding it was too hot to swim. Not that I usually had a problem with the heat when I wanted to swim, but doing it alone simply did not appeal to me. So I dropped my bag off by the poolside and wandered through the almost deserted club-house.

Now, you have to imagine the club-house. It is the heart of Yenzi Camp, perhaps the only form of entertainment besides the Saturday Night barbecue at the Golf Club in the whole camp. It had restaurants, cafes, a pool, the tennis courts, a karaoke lounge, ballrooms and the such.

However, on that day, I found myself drawn to the very centre of the Clubhouse. The one section which in the future, I grew to regard as the heart and soul of Yenzi: The Library.

Yes, my friends... now you know where my love for reading was born. It was then, on that solitary summer's day that I discovered The Other World. I was never much of a reader before that point, never cared much for the dusty pages as I was always more interested in climbing trees or diving into pools and splashing through puddles filled with tadpoles.

The librarian (for the life of me, I cannot recall her name) must have taken pity on me as she struck up a conversation. I remember being shy, avoiding her eyes as I spoke... but soon, her kindly voice and her rather comforting smell (soap and clean clothes) drew me out of my shell and I became more earnest, more expressive of my emotions.

She asked me then "What do you like to read, Nabiya?"

I shrugged my then-scrawny shoulders, mumbling an incoherent reply... suddenly shy of my lack of knowledge.

"I know just the thing for you," she said, the smile on her face an image I will never forget for the rest of my living days, "It's a favourite for many girls your age, and it's a series..."

I made a face at the thought of having to endure an entire series of books. As I said, at the time I had little patience for books.

The librarian moved from behind her counter and shuffled over to the children's section. Tentatively, I followed behind her, trying to look around her generous bottom (she really does remind me of a certain Mrs. Doubtfire) at the book she was pulling out of the shelf.

"Here you go, if you don't like it you can just bring it back and I'll find you something nicer."

In her hand was the very first book in the Babysitters Club series.

I took it from her, smiled and thanked her then left the library.

Two days later, I was back and asking if I could have the next book.

There we go, my dear friends and family... that was the exact moment where I discovered The Other World.

Not Friends

Sometimes
It needs to be said
That you and
I can’t be friends
If you know what I mean.

It’s not that hard to understand
I’m hoping that you feel the same
There’s no way I can play this game.

We’re not friends,
We’ve never been,
So don’t come
Knocking again
You know I won’t be here.

So take your things and go away
Shut the door and let me say
I’m glad that you’re not gonna stay.

It’s over
Don’t think it ever
Started so now
I’m glad that I can
Breathe again…

What’s so hard to understand
I hoped that we could feel the same
But it was just… a game…

---

Lyrics to a song I just wrote, melody is down... I just need music and stuff now and will re-record everything when it's done. Don't be too harsh with your comments on the words as I knocked this out in 15 minutes.

You know what's the best thing about procrastination? The fact that you just KNOW everyone around you is doing the exact same thing. But this also works as a backfire because then you're thinking "Oh, he's not studying right this minute... so I don't have to either." and you all end up putting it off even later.

Procrastination is a bitch. A never ending cycle you just cannot break because it's a habit inherent in your genes.

Myself, though? I thrive on the adrenaline rush of the last minute. Why do today what you can do tomorrow? lol

Time to make a decision.
Choices are hard,
but letting things go on
the way they are
will hurt more.

So give me your answer.

Or cut me loose.

It hurts. It actually physically hurts.

I've been so down all day, I woke up feeling like shit and I thought that a shower and a cup of tea would make it go away but it's still here. I don't know why... no, I lie, I know exactly why I'm feeling like this today.

It's him.

And the fact that there's nothing I can do about it, except make things worse. Like I already have.

I've dug myself into this horrible hole where I just cannot see the way out of. My only options are to hurt those around me, and to do that... means I'll be out of this hole, but I won't have the thing that I want.

Should I?

Just rip the band aid off and get it done with?

Tell him that there's no future between us cos I'm still stuck on the other guy, even though the other guy doesn't want anything to do with me.

It would certainly be better for him. It would hurt for a while... but he'll get over it. Rather than hurting him later on...

Broken Notes

The broken string of your guitar,
Caught my attention from afar,
Though you tried to play me your song,
Something wasn’t right,
And I could hear it all along.

I watched your fingers play the tune,
I found myself singing with you,
The beat was wrong, I was too slow,
You waited all night,
Til in the end I got it all.


Just something I'm working on. It's a work in progress, and definitely needs a lot of revision... and a whole lot more stanzas/verses... we'll see how it goes.

Little Bo Peep

has lost her sheep
and doesn't know where to find them.
leave them alone and they'll come home
bringing their tails behind them.

I've been branded as the shepherdess in our unassuming group of acquaintances. These past few weeks have made me realise that it's often the case... I have failed at making deep, lasting friendships, however I have many non-close friends. Nobody I can just ring up at any given time of the day if I'm feeling upset... somebody I could call to share good news with.

No, that's not true.

I can call people about good news, as I'm the type of person who everyone assumes will always be around to make them happy. I'm that friend. The one who can always be counted on for a good, happy, carefree time.

I wish I have a shoulder to cry on instead of always being the shoulder everyone looks for.

Tulips Past the Sell-by Date

Watching the sad, limp petals drop off the flowers she'd bought for herself last weekend... she realised how beautiful the shedding of the outer layers was. More than anything, she wanted to shrug her materialistic worries off her heavy-laden shoulders and just breathe free.

To be naked.

Exposed.

And still be loved.

She yearned for the raw beauty of the honesty.

I hate morning birds

Birds herald the dawning of a new sun,
Less majestic,
Than the trumpeting flourish
Preceding a fallen emperor.
Beautiful nonetheless.

Fear grips the heart of
The listener.
Ridden with guilt for the theft
of the dark of night
In anxiety he waits.

The birds signal the new morning,
they prepare for a new day.
The one that greets them waiting,
to run to bed or brave it and stay...

---

Here's the deal. It's 6 in the morning and I'm still awake, why? Because once again my procrastinating ass decided it would be a good idea to wait til the very last minute (I mean the very last, I'm not exaggerating here) to write my 3000 word essay. The birds piss me off.

Hazy Days

It was a novel feeling... being dispensable. The novelty soon wore off and the anger, hurt and most significant of all... the confusion set in. The anger and hurt were easy enough to deal with, they weren't new emotions and they rarely had the opportunity to fester into anything deeper and more influential.

The confusion however... that one rubbed the wrong way.

Confusion has the tendency to carry on and creep up on a person during the most inopportune moments. Particularly disruptive was when the confusion peeked through during a social gathering. It was harder to mimic socially acceptable behaviour when one was riddled with the overwhelming feeling of being completely and utterly... lost.

Like a length of ribbon thrown in the wind, or a child's paper boat floating down the rocky and sometimes tumultuous current of a drain.

Caught staring at nothing, the confused member of the pack slapped on a nonchalant grin and reverted to the loud and sometimes obnoxious behaviour that the group had grown accustomed to. Best to spare others the same desolation and pretend.

The paper boat got caught on a rock and slowly sank to the bottom of the drain as the water seeped through the material.

Pretending made it seem as if being a disintegrating piece of a once majestic tree meant nothing more than just... that.

Insight?

The newcomer observed the rituals, gripped with fascination and a sense of enlightenment. It occurred to her that this was the game everybody took to with such mixed reactions... to her though, it was all tainted with a sense of being outside herself.

Here she was participating and yet observing. She wasn't completely consumed by the somewhat ceremonial act, but she was aware of the ability to be so engrossed in the movements and rhythms in the future.

That was going to take a while to happen, though.

Like a new bird testing out its wings, she dipped a toe in the scalding water.

Retreated rapidly.

The gentle coaxing of the ripples drew her out once more and this time she found something she quite liked. A quick smile flitted over her features and she dove into the pool, feeling the water surround her. Her lungs felt too tight and her body moved with uneven, jerky motions but there was clearly something there.

All too soon her human need to breathe made itself known and she resurfaced, taking a deep breath that filled her blood with oxygen. Her pumping blood, which she could feel was a deep, thick red. It didn't occur to her how strange it was to be able to feel colours, but that was how her blood felt at the moment.

As if her entire being was on fire.

The current took her back to shore and there she lay on the rough sand, permeated with the occasional pebble. Her vision grew blurry as she squinted into the sun, but she stared straight into the blazing ball regardless of the tears that built up in her now stinging eyes.

The knowledge of the rules of the game had changed her.

Now she was prepared.

---

Don't ask. It wouldn't make sense to anybody but me...

Bluff Intimacy

The two strangers arrived at the peak when they came to the simultaneous realisation that their journey together would end there. Having assumed that their ultimate destination was common, it was rather surprising that this revelation did not surprise either one of them at all.

After all, regular connotations had underlined their entire excursion.

They had met at the beginning of the path, though it was far from the beginning for either one of them. That location was simply the fateful meeting point of their own individual paths.

An exchanged smile and a few platonic words marked the beginning of their hike upwards. As each foot was swallowed up by their eager - albeit somewhat tentative - steps, a little more of their personalities were revealed to each other until both believed that they knew the other well.

The hours passed and the sun rose up high above their heads. They shared the peace that blankets humanity at the moment where the sun hangs briefly over the horizon... right before it sank out of their sight as if a child had dropped a biscuit in a glass of cold milk.

Dark greeted them and like children seeking comfort, they were drawn to each other. They fooled themselves that this connection ran deeper, when the truth hidden not so far below the surface was that their intentions were purely selfish: each wanted what the other could give them, yet neither was willing to relinquish the control over their own being completely.

Not to a complete stranger.

It became apparent to both parties in the dawning light of the new day that their travelling companion was merely an acquaintance. Despite the intimacy perceived in their conversations and actions, they had barely scratched the superficial exteriors of the other.

So as they observed the expansive valley ahead of them, a polite smile was shared and a goodbye was bartered for a half-hearted assurance in a possible parley in the ambiguous future.

Paths were chosen, and the brief fellowship came to an end.

The awareness of the significance of their recent uphill foray weighed heavily on both their minds as they progressed down their determined paths: that brief interaction - however insignificant it seemed to an outsider - had changed something fundamental within each individual.

They were altered.

Losing Sleep - Charlotte Sometimes

I connect with songs. Lyrics speak to me, and sometimes I get the impression that I feel the words more than a normal person would. I pick up on parts of songs, a certain word, a twist of a phrase...

And it feels right.

It feels like the arrangement of the melody and the words have molded themselves to my being. For the past few days Monkey Majik's Closer To You was it, as of today... I've made up my mind, I won't be losing sleep anymore.

Be the winner you always were
Don't you, don't you dare lose
Be the humble girl you are
Don't cry in stranger's cars
La La goodnight

I'm awake and I've been losing sleep
I've been fighting all my demons
I've been getting weak
'Cause I've been trying, trying, trying
To be anything other than me

Be the star you know you are
Don't you, Don't you dare fail
You can own that balance beam
Two steps forward towards make believe
La La Goodnight

I'm awake and I've been losing sleep
I've been fighting all my demons
I've been getting weak
'Cause I've been trying, trying, trying
To be anything other than me

What a silly dream
Oh silly, silly me
To think I had a handle on this
When I know I know I lose
I know I know I Lose
We both know We both know
That I know I know I know I lose
We both now we both know that

If home is where the heart is, does that mean my home is me?

I don't feel at home at home anymore.

Maybe it's due to the fact that I've lived on three continents and moved houses fifteen times in twenty one years. Maybe it's just that I never settled in one place long enough for it to become home.

How can a person feel at home... when in essence they don't truly belong anywhere?

Not geographically.

Nor socially.

I'm thankful to God, to my parents that I have never been homeless in the way that word is meant to mean. But I wish they had stayed somewhere long enough for me to build connections. I grew up avoiding close relationships, telling myself "People always leave."

Now I've come to realize that people don't leave.

I do.