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Nephew

Faramir Farhaad Laja and Donna

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4 in the morning.

lol. Gwen Stefani’s song. Anyway.

It’s technically 4.34am. On Dec 30th. 2009. I shall return to INTI on the 2nd Jan. Which is coming soon and I can’t wait!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So far, I have only the beginning of the semester planned out, sketchily, I say. 2nd week going genting, with Lynn, Fatin, and Emily. XDDDDDDDDDD Squealllllllllllll.

ohoh. 1st week I’m back, Kelvian(monkeyh from now on. will explain the h) and I will be screaming our lungs out and stuffing our faces. Catching up on horror movies. Awesome neh? We’re also gonna be going to McD around 4-5am in the morning for some hash browns………………………….AWWWWWWWWWWW.monkeyh is awesome. See? Planned out dy. And! He will be chia-ing me 3 hash browns. awwwww. MWHAHAHA. there’s a backstory to that. Anyway, I shall thoroughly enjoy myself when I get back. Oh. Lovely.

I’ve enrolled for ENL102, which is under Prof. Lim Ho Peng. Oh. I hear he’s a terror with homework, though a kind soul. I hope I get it right man. English is like, the only subject I can score. =[

I can hear my cousin’s snoring from my room, and my mother’s Indian Twinkle Twinkle Little Star alarm. ==” so early meh wake up? She keeps snoozing it.

Anyway, so many things I planned to do to savor my last few days in Miri, and I’m going to go back Nilai, with freedommmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm. Oh yes yes yes.

I’m looking forward to Ps. Vic’s Annointing Sunday, though I haven’t been exemplary for the past few months. =[ Epic fail huh?

Ai. Anyway. Believe it or not, watching Supernatural Season 5 kinda rekindled my thirst for God. I just hate it the way they treat Christianity and its counterparts so freely and loosely, and I cringe when I watch my favorite show, but ah. Take it with a grain of salt.

I’ve been surfing flickr and blogspots looking at pictures of food. Oh. Haha. Another weird hobby of mine. I love food. Yum. So hungry la. I think I’ll stay up and eat something instead of going to sleep. It’s 4.44am now. Oh. Exactly 10 minutes.

Anyway, we had a great conversation today, although it was interrupted intermittently by various things. But ah. it’s getting stronger, and… well, I haven’t shared so much about myself and my dreams and aspirations and inspirations and imagination to anyone before. It is indeed liberating, although I’m scared… that it’ll all go down the drain.

AH. Well Phase 3 of PMS is here. Food craving. XD ciao!

new year’s resolutions – pondering.

haha. should shelf this under ponderment. as if that’s a word. anyway.

– less emo? more happy-go-lucky?
– less rushing into things, more laid-back?
– less crying, more laughing?
– less innocent, more evil?
– less procrastination, more action?
– less talk, more action?
– less 18SX thoughts, more Hallelujah thoughts?
– less rebellion, more obedience?
– less … ah. i think it sums up everything.

oh well.

i just want the old Madonna back.

the one that didn’t conform.
the one that didn’t fit in.
the one that didn’t bother.
the one that didn’t cry.
the one that wouldn’t bend.
the one that wouldn’t get hurt.
the one that wouldn’t bother.
the one that wouldn’t conform.
the one that shouldn’t have been replaced by this shadow.

i wish.

i wish for better judgment of how i portray myself. i wish for more masks to wear, and the ability to wear them so convincingly that no one would know who i am.

i wish for this heart, never to be broken. ever again.

christmas time sucks real bad these few years.

not more than rubbish?

i think of the times when you told me you feel like rubbish around me. i think of the times when you cry, and cry, and cry and say you’re sorry, and ask if you can be my friend. i think of the times when you treat me nicely. i am not asking for worship, for i am not God. i am not asking for praise, for i have achieved nothing. i am asking for compassion. for forgiveness. i found none in you.

do you have a hard heart? or does it harden each time i talk to you? is it my fault, to begin with? because you’re my friend, and you’ve told me everything, and i listen.

i think that i am the rubbish. or a ragdoll you like to play with. i don’t know. when you’re mad, you would just throw me against the wall, and leave me there as you storm out and don’t come back until your anger has subsided.

is that what a friend should do?

i don’t know. you’re just one of the few i have, and i don’t know what else to do.

im all alone.

can i hug u?

whoever you are…

where you may be…

can i be there? can i hug u?

i need you.

i can’t take it anymore…

hey…

i need you.

where are you?

where did you go?

don’t leave me.

i can’t…

can’t handle this on my own…

don’t leave me.

monkeyh. i wish ur here.

some time ago…

on this day, i was reeling from a traumatic experience.

broken, shattered, smashed… all those pieces were never meant to be together anymore. scattered in the winds of animosity, distrust, and a convoluted web of lies. it took about a few months.. perhaps four months for me to gather those pieces… and glue them back together. acidic words and harsh experiences seep through the cracks… enmeshed in the the glue… forever part of me.

trying to pry those words and experiences meant unhinging every fiber of my sanity, or what was left of it. i think i’m losing it. hanging on to a single thread… fragile, and almost wearing out. i don’t know. still remembered those never ending tears pouring down my cheeks… the pain that gripped my heart so painfully that i thought i would die. die of broken heart. the irony.

coming from someone who’s built stone walls around her. she broke it down just to let someone in. someone who wasn’t worth letting in.

it’s been a year.

a year of heartache. a year of… pain. pain that i have brought onto myself. pain i invited to live with me. and pain that will never leave.

will i still be myself i drove this pain away?

i’m like a moth, attracted to the pain. always in search of it. never ending. never stopping. protecting the pain from outsiders. protecting it from ever being taken out.

i don’t know who i am anymore.

i confuse myself.

a friend once described me as a walking contradiction. i am Christian, and also amoral. i don’t know. how far have i fallen from the grace that sustained me? how far must i go, to run away? when will i return? just like the prodigal son?

dear God.

i don’t know.