Dear Random Person No 2,
First thing first, I stopped talking not because of some envy thing going on. As I said plenty of times, I'm not mad at you because of the jealousy thing. I'm mad at the mindless .. people. Get that into your head alright? You're better than me in some aspects and I'm better than you in other aspects. Savvy?
Now, to the real reason. You were the middle person between me and a mutual friend. A middle person has to be fair. Not practically tell me its all my fault. And not see how the other person might have contributed to it. Definitely not by making me feel worse.
Of course, you telling other mutuals that we're not talking anymore due to my jealousy? Really mature. I thought I was the immature one. At least I don't tell people unless they ask me and I'll only say "We're not talking at the moment. Change subject now!".
That's all I wanted to say. And taking your cue in jumping to conclusions, I'm jumping to the conclusion that our friendship is over. Prove me wrong. Or not. I'm not caring anymore. Just, stay away from some people.
*brushes dirt off my shoulders before going away*
Hanis.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Confession No.15
There's this thing known as flipping someone off.
And I'm aching to do it to someone.
Oh yeah, I so think you were lying a few hours ago.
*flips you off*
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
First Random Letter.
Dear Random Person No 1,
I'm not even sure if you read my blog. Right now, I'm in a state of being paranoid. I'm wondering if I did something wrong. If you're mad at me. If you think I did something ghastly. I must admit that I've been busy for the past few weeks. Assignments/tests/quizzes took my nights which I hope tells you that I'm not abandoning our friendship.
Perhaps after knowing each other for about 8 semesters had accustomed me to the way you word out your messages. Perhaps I'm just reading in too deep but lately, when you do reply, it lacks the usual warmth. Once, I let it slip. Twice, I start to wonder. Thrice, I putmy phone down and feel sad.
Is this the end of a friendship I really value? Please give me a slap and tell me you've been stressed/busy and I'm just paranoid. But I don't think I'am.
To quote you:
"Love you dear, take care,"
Love,
Hanis.
I'm not even sure if you read my blog. Right now, I'm in a state of being paranoid. I'm wondering if I did something wrong. If you're mad at me. If you think I did something ghastly. I must admit that I've been busy for the past few weeks. Assignments/tests/quizzes took my nights which I hope tells you that I'm not abandoning our friendship.
Perhaps after knowing each other for about 8 semesters had accustomed me to the way you word out your messages. Perhaps I'm just reading in too deep but lately, when you do reply, it lacks the usual warmth. Once, I let it slip. Twice, I start to wonder. Thrice, I putmy phone down and feel sad.
Is this the end of a friendship I really value? Please give me a slap and tell me you've been stressed/busy and I'm just paranoid. But I don't think I'am.
To quote you:
"Love you dear, take care,"
Love,
Hanis.
Poem: Fake Envy.
Pride at success full of deceit
Makes me sick to my tummy.
Don't be fooled at my fake jade coloured emotion
Inside I'm full of disgust.
The crowing of victory
Is as underhanded as stealing from a baby.
Monday, March 28, 2011
Amortentia, Personalised.
Raise your hands if you're a Harry Potter fan who has read all the books enough time to tell it in your sleep.
In Harry Potter & The Half Blood Prince a magnificent potion appeared in Slughorn's first class. Yes, I'm talking about:
Its the love potion with characteristic spiral smokes and smell differently to each individual based on what attracts them. To a 16 year old me, it was a wonderful potion. To a now, 22 year old me, it tells me that love, has a smell. Not just one smell but a blend of them that only appeals to one person.
Imagine how many blends there are in this world!
So If you're like me, you're probably wondering how will love smell for you. And then, perhaps your mind started to give a suggestion on the components in your own blend of love. Taking cue from the book, it will be a mix of 3 smells. Three, perhaps common every day smells that you've been taking for granted.
Oh, what do I think love will smell like for me?
WellI've thought about this for about 4 years now perhaps, love will smell like:
Chocolate- I love chocolate, but only in dark or milk chocolate form. Rarely with nuts/caramels/fruits or anything. Especially not white chocolate. Yuck. Once upon a time, I knew someone who smelled like chocolate. And I was the only one who thought so. And till this day, if I take a sniff from a bar of milk chocolate, I'll smile like an idiot. Truly.
With a hint of
Books- Everytime I buy a new book, I'll flip the pages and take in the smell, even getting as far as pressing my nose against some random page. Some might say it's the smell of ink. But no. Books got that own smell which is not merely paper + ink. And like wine, the older the book, the more ... fine the smell will be. More full. Nothing comforts me the way a book does.
And of course
My bed & pillows after being away from them for awhile- Every week, when I come home from the hostel I'll take a shower and without getting dressed first, I'll bury my face in my pillows, spreading myself on the duvet with a satisfied sigh as all the burden/stress/fatigue of the week seems to melt away. Am I the only one who thinks that her own bed is just .. so .. "You're finally where you belong" smelling?
I might like how hotel beds are all bouncy while the pillows are all fluffy and how there's so many layers to the bedclothes. But I'll never feel comfortable enough or belonged enough on it. And no, I'm not referring to the the smell of unchanged sheets because I change mine every fortnight and still get the feeling after so.
*clears throat*
And that's how I think my Amortentia would smell like.
Perhaps it just means thatthe love of my life the guy would feed me chocolates and read for me while we're cuddling in bed?
Or perhaps this is one of those things that our brains and hormones have determined over time.
Who knows?
How will your Amortentia smell like? Tell me.
Peace Out.
In Harry Potter & The Half Blood Prince a magnificent potion appeared in Slughorn's first class. Yes, I'm talking about:
Amortentia
Its the love potion with characteristic spiral smokes and smell differently to each individual based on what attracts them. To a 16 year old me, it was a wonderful potion. To a now, 22 year old me, it tells me that love, has a smell. Not just one smell but a blend of them that only appeals to one person.
Imagine how many blends there are in this world!
So If you're like me, you're probably wondering how will love smell for you. And then, perhaps your mind started to give a suggestion on the components in your own blend of love. Taking cue from the book, it will be a mix of 3 smells. Three, perhaps common every day smells that you've been taking for granted.
Oh, what do I think love will smell like for me?
Well
Chocolate- I love chocolate, but only in dark or milk chocolate form. Rarely with nuts/caramels/fruits or anything. Especially not white chocolate. Yuck. Once upon a time, I knew someone who smelled like chocolate. And I was the only one who thought so. And till this day, if I take a sniff from a bar of milk chocolate, I'll smile like an idiot. Truly.
With a hint of
Books- Everytime I buy a new book, I'll flip the pages and take in the smell, even getting as far as pressing my nose against some random page. Some might say it's the smell of ink. But no. Books got that own smell which is not merely paper + ink. And like wine, the older the book, the more ... fine the smell will be. More full. Nothing comforts me the way a book does.
And of course
My bed & pillows after being away from them for awhile- Every week, when I come home from the hostel I'll take a shower and without getting dressed first, I'll bury my face in my pillows, spreading myself on the duvet with a satisfied sigh as all the burden/stress/fatigue of the week seems to melt away. Am I the only one who thinks that her own bed is just .. so .. "You're finally where you belong" smelling?
I might like how hotel beds are all bouncy while the pillows are all fluffy and how there's so many layers to the bedclothes. But I'll never feel comfortable enough or belonged enough on it. And no, I'm not referring to the the smell of unchanged sheets because I change mine every fortnight and still get the feeling after so.
*clears throat*
And that's how I think my Amortentia would smell like.
Perhaps it just means that
Or perhaps this is one of those things that our brains and hormones have determined over time.
Who knows?
How will your Amortentia smell like? Tell me.
Peace Out.
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Week 7- Books.
This has to be the hardest post yet.
Do you read? If you do, what is your 3 fave books?
But I thought you love to read Hanis.
I do.
But I can't choose 3 favourites without 5 more tumbling after.
How do I define favourite?
By the number of times I read it?
Then Harry Potter 5 and 6 will be 2 of the 3.
By how I was affected by the book?
Mario Puzo's The Family and a handful of Jodi Picoult's books will be there.
By how excited I was in getting the book into my hands?
Once again, the Harry Potter books and the Black Dagger Brotherhood series.
This is so not helping.
Here's three books that I feel one should read. Because I love those books, regardless of the number of times I've read them. And perhaps because I learned things from them.
1. A Little Princess by Frances Hodgson Burnett
I bought this book when I was 13. What is it about? About keeping oneself optimistic even in the darkest night. When your only friends are a rat, the scullery maid in the other side of the attic and a scared girl in a room below.
Why do I like this book? Sara Crewe is a child, who even in her hardest times didn't grew to be cynical or jaded.
2. Mercy by Jodi Picoult
You have one married couple where the terminally ill wife makes her husband kill her. And you have the other married couple, the sheriff husband who yearns but to travel who falls in love for his wife's assistant at her florist shop.
Yeah, it sounds depressing. I cried reading this. A lot of time. I don't agree with the infidelity. I cried for the wife. I cried for the first husband, especially when he says his wife was selfish. All she cared about was ending her pain, not caring that her husband will be in big trouble for killing her.
This book taught me the 70-30 concept.
"I just don't want to hurt him,"
A smile stole across Jamie's face, so completely transforming him that Allie would have not recognised him if she'd seen him on the the street.
"Then you're the one,"
Allie blinked at him.
"The one what?"
"The one who loves more. You know it's never fifty-fifty in a marriage. It's always seventy-thirty or sixty-forty.
Someone falls in love first.
Someone puts up someone else on a pedestal.
Someone works very had to keep things rolling smoothly.
Someone else sails along for the ride.
I'm the one like you," Jamie said.
"The one who fell first. The one who would do anything to keep it the way it was at the beggining,"
3. Anybody Out There? by Marian Keyes.
If you read chick-lit, read any books by Marian Keyes. Her books are often filled with dark themes which makes them better than those sugar floss books.
This book made me cry. Yes, again. You start reading about a woman moping around after a terrible accident, often calling her boyfriend but to no answer. You're bound to think what a jerk.
Halfway through, you'll find out that it is actually her husband she keeps sending emails to, unread and calling to hear his voice message and that he actually died in the accident.
Denial. She didn't accept that. Then she went on a journey to find his spirit because she believe he wanted to tell her something. The last chapter made me cry. It was bitter sweet. She finally moved on after a dream about him. And when she woke up, a butterfly was flying around, landing on their wedding picture, his couch and finally on her nose. It was saying goodbye to her.
So, yes, all of those books have people dying. And of people moving on. And of me crying. I just love them. Like, amazingly love them. Read them.
Mozart's choice would probably be more deeper.
Peace Out.
Do you read? If you do, what is your 3 fave books?
But I thought you love to read Hanis.
I do.
But I can't choose 3 favourites without 5 more tumbling after.
How do I define favourite?
By the number of times I read it?
Then Harry Potter 5 and 6 will be 2 of the 3.
By how I was affected by the book?
Mario Puzo's The Family and a handful of Jodi Picoult's books will be there.
By how excited I was in getting the book into my hands?
Once again, the Harry Potter books and the Black Dagger Brotherhood series.
This is so not helping.
Here's three books that I feel one should read. Because I love those books, regardless of the number of times I've read them. And perhaps because I learned things from them.
1. A Little Princess by Frances Hodgson Burnett
I bought this book when I was 13. What is it about? About keeping oneself optimistic even in the darkest night. When your only friends are a rat, the scullery maid in the other side of the attic and a scared girl in a room below.
Why do I like this book? Sara Crewe is a child, who even in her hardest times didn't grew to be cynical or jaded.
2. Mercy by Jodi Picoult
You have one married couple where the terminally ill wife makes her husband kill her. And you have the other married couple, the sheriff husband who yearns but to travel who falls in love for his wife's assistant at her florist shop.
Yeah, it sounds depressing. I cried reading this. A lot of time. I don't agree with the infidelity. I cried for the wife. I cried for the first husband, especially when he says his wife was selfish. All she cared about was ending her pain, not caring that her husband will be in big trouble for killing her.
This book taught me the 70-30 concept.
"I just don't want to hurt him,"
A smile stole across Jamie's face, so completely transforming him that Allie would have not recognised him if she'd seen him on the the street.
"Then you're the one,"
Allie blinked at him.
"The one what?"
"The one who loves more. You know it's never fifty-fifty in a marriage. It's always seventy-thirty or sixty-forty.
Someone falls in love first.
Someone puts up someone else on a pedestal.
Someone works very had to keep things rolling smoothly.
Someone else sails along for the ride.
I'm the one like you," Jamie said.
"The one who fell first. The one who would do anything to keep it the way it was at the beggining,"
3. Anybody Out There? by Marian Keyes.
If you read chick-lit, read any books by Marian Keyes. Her books are often filled with dark themes which makes them better than those sugar floss books.
This book made me cry. Yes, again. You start reading about a woman moping around after a terrible accident, often calling her boyfriend but to no answer. You're bound to think what a jerk.
Halfway through, you'll find out that it is actually her husband she keeps sending emails to, unread and calling to hear his voice message and that he actually died in the accident.
Denial. She didn't accept that. Then she went on a journey to find his spirit because she believe he wanted to tell her something. The last chapter made me cry. It was bitter sweet. She finally moved on after a dream about him. And when she woke up, a butterfly was flying around, landing on their wedding picture, his couch and finally on her nose. It was saying goodbye to her.
So, yes, all of those books have people dying. And of people moving on. And of me crying. I just love them. Like, amazingly love them. Read them.
Mozart's choice would probably be more deeper.
Peace Out.
My Vain Moment. Let Me Have It.
I had to get glasses when I was 14 and from then it was 4 years of ugliness. I didn't look like a sexy nerd. Regardless of how my glasses looked like. I was still awkward looking. So imagine my delight in getting contact lenses around my 19th birthday.
I loved it so much that most of my current classmates don't know that I'mhalf-blind visually challenged due to never wearing glasses to class.
When do I wear them?
At night or when I'm home, stuck there with no probability of going anywhere.
So do you see how vain I'am in this area? How I refuse to wear my cool looking Mashimaro glasses to class? They are cool. Black with white design at the sides.
Yesterday, for the first time in my life, I got a stye on my right eye. *hears screams of horror*
Its swelling and I'm frantically considering skipping classes till I'm alll good.
The doctor says its not infectious and I'll be good in 3-4 days, the quickest. *hears more screams* And it just has to be my luck that this week's classes are all important. I got group discussions. Replacement classes for about 6 hours. A Listening Test. And other blooody idiotic things.
I'm also considering buying an eye patch. And say that I'm chanelling my inner Mrs. Jack Sparrow.
*sighs*
Don't worry, I'll go to class once I convince myself no one will notice.
I've been living with having zits. What is a stye, right? *tries to convice myself*
Peace Out.
I loved it so much that most of my current classmates don't know that I'm
When do I wear them?
At night or when I'm home, stuck there with no probability of going anywhere.
So do you see how vain I'am in this area? How I refuse to wear my cool looking Mashimaro glasses to class? They are cool. Black with white design at the sides.
Yesterday, for the first time in my life, I got a stye on my right eye. *hears screams of horror*
Its swelling and I'm frantically considering skipping classes till I'm alll good.
The doctor says its not infectious and I'll be good in 3-4 days, the quickest. *hears more screams* And it just has to be my luck that this week's classes are all important. I got group discussions. Replacement classes for about 6 hours. A Listening Test. And other blooody idiotic things.
I'm also considering buying an eye patch. And say that I'm chanelling my inner Mrs. Jack Sparrow.
*sighs*
Don't worry, I'll go to class once I convince myself no one will notice.
I've been living with having zits. What is a stye, right? *tries to convice myself*
Peace Out.
Saturday, March 26, 2011
Friday, March 25, 2011
When I Give You a Tip, Take It.
I was in that stage between wonderful-naptime-where-I'll-dream-about-books-and-hot-guys and staying-awake-while-waiting-for-Mozart-to-come-back-from-his-shower when I read a post that made me laughed.
I commented.
Got inspired.
And here I'am.
Read this first.
I had several convos that were ... in the same manner. Just few adjustments here and there.
Note: All this happened in Malay so excuse thewonderfulnormal English.
Classmate:Hanis, how did you get so good in English?
Hanis: I read a lot.
Classmate: Read?
Hanis: Yes. Like, novels and such. I don't think I have any Malay novels at home.
Classmate: Oooh, like Twilight?
Hanis: ... other than Twilight.
Classmate: Gossip Girl!
Hanis: Anything that is not chick lit. Jodi Picoult and Jeffrey Archer got some great books.
Classmate: But ewwww, I don't like reading other books. They're so boring.
Hanis is tempted to smack classmate with the thick Marian Keyes book in her bag.
Why the fuck would you even ask me for advice and not try it out? My English is not top-notch. I have grammar problems (Ask Mozart) when I'm lazy. I have problems spelling certain words such as comfortable, professor and jewellery
Dad has this thick, big, heavy, hell-ish dictionary that he keeps in my room. Why? Everytime I ask him the meaning of a word he'll tell me the dictionary is in my room for a bloody reason. Yes, I've used it while reading a book and coming across a word I don't understand.
If said classmate asked me again, I'll tell her to read/watch/listen to anything in English. I do that. I get called (jokingly I hope) a traitor for admitting that I DON'T read Malay novels, watch Malay movies/dramas and the songs? I only know a handful. Which explains my lack of knowledge about the local entertainment industry.
Yeah, yeah, call me whatever you want. I'm not saying they're on a lower standard. Its just a matter of preference. And I admit that I make grammatical mistakes all the
time. Just perhaps less than some people.
Next time someone asks me how to get better in English, they better not show any emotions other than joy when I tell them to read.
Peace Out.
I commented.
Got inspired.
And here I'am.
Read this first.
I had several convos that were ... in the same manner. Just few adjustments here and there.
Note: All this happened in Malay so excuse the
Classmate:Hanis, how did you get so good in English?
Hanis: I read a lot.
Classmate: Read?
Hanis: Yes. Like, novels and such. I don't think I have any Malay novels at home.
Classmate: Oooh, like Twilight?
Hanis: ... other than Twilight.
Classmate: Gossip Girl!
Hanis: Anything that is not chick lit. Jodi Picoult and Jeffrey Archer got some great books.
Classmate: But ewwww, I don't like reading other books. They're so boring.
Hanis is tempted to smack classmate with the thick Marian Keyes book in her bag.
Why the fuck would you even ask me for advice and not try it out? My English is not top-notch. I have grammar problems (Ask Mozart) when I'm lazy. I have problems spelling certain words such as comfortable, professor and jewellery
Dad has this thick, big, heavy, hell-ish dictionary that he keeps in my room. Why? Everytime I ask him the meaning of a word he'll tell me the dictionary is in my room for a bloody reason. Yes, I've used it while reading a book and coming across a word I don't understand.
If said classmate asked me again, I'll tell her to read/watch/listen to anything in English. I do that. I get called (jokingly I hope) a traitor for admitting that I DON'T read Malay novels, watch Malay movies/dramas and the songs? I only know a handful. Which explains my lack of knowledge about the local entertainment industry.
Yeah, yeah, call me whatever you want. I'm not saying they're on a lower standard. Its just a matter of preference. And I admit that I make grammatical mistakes all the
time. Just perhaps less than some people.
Next time someone asks me how to get better in English, they better not show any emotions other than joy when I tell them to read.
Peace Out.
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Mental Barriers Begone.
Today, I went to a wonderful talk entitled 'World of Actuaries". It was informative, interesting and the guy even made a Star Wars reference. In the seats around me, I was the only girl laughing. I think. So, one of the things that stuck to me was the slide on mental barriers.
The guy, a real, qualified actuary with all 10 papers under his belt told us to never think that we can't do it. Even though if you failed a paper once, twice or even thrice. Never go all:
"I'm not smart enough,"
"Everyone else is smarter than me,"
"I'm too dumb to do this,"
While listening to that, I was reminded of a highschool classmate I knew around 2002-2005-ish. She was .. sensitive. Like, easily offended to anything people say or do. Sometimes, people won't even mean it as an insult and she goes all huffy. Or sulky. Or pull herself away and go into that place within herself.
Hey, I so get that. Just that she was fricking annnnnoying when she does that. She tries to act all Holier-than-thou and humble with her:
"I'm not as smart as you,"
"I'm not as rich as you,"
That's for when I/anyone else gets higher marks or buy something new.
"Nah, its just luck"
"I had to save up to buy a book,"
That's for when she gets higher marks or buy something new.
Like, pleeease. I was 15 when I got so tempted to bite her head off. Or give a nice slap. Or a kick in the ass. Anything to stop her air of "The world just don't get me*sighs bravely*"
You're probably wondering how I can still remember all this and might have some residual ... yuckiness towards said classmate?
Let's just say I read her blog and yes, that air is still there. She's still kinda the same. And you know how some people are not rude/bitchy/mean/obnoxious but some people still don't like them?
Yeap. That's exactlyher it.
So, the guy said that if we put up mental barriers, we'll never make it. Lesson learned. I should so use that for other aspects of my life.
I can get that one guy.
Peace Out.
The guy, a real, qualified actuary with all 10 papers under his belt told us to never think that we can't do it. Even though if you failed a paper once, twice or even thrice. Never go all:
"I'm not smart enough,"
"Everyone else is smarter than me,"
"I'm too dumb to do this,"
While listening to that, I was reminded of a highschool classmate I knew around 2002-2005-ish. She was .. sensitive. Like, easily offended to anything people say or do. Sometimes, people won't even mean it as an insult and she goes all huffy. Or sulky. Or pull herself away and go into that place within herself.
Hey, I so get that. Just that she was fricking annnnnoying when she does that. She tries to act all Holier-than-thou and humble with her:
"I'm not as smart as you,"
"I'm not as rich as you,"
That's for when I/anyone else gets higher marks or buy something new.
"Nah, its just luck"
"I had to save up to buy a book,"
That's for when she gets higher marks or buy something new.
Like, pleeease. I was 15 when I got so tempted to bite her head off. Or give a nice slap. Or a kick in the ass. Anything to stop her air of "The world just don't get me*sighs bravely*"
You're probably wondering how I can still remember all this and might have some residual ... yuckiness towards said classmate?
Let's just say I read her blog and yes, that air is still there. She's still kinda the same. And you know how some people are not rude/bitchy/mean/obnoxious but some people still don't like them?
Yeap. That's exactly
So, the guy said that if we put up mental barriers, we'll never make it. Lesson learned. I should so use that for other aspects of my life.
I can get that one guy.
Peace Out.
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
This is How a Lazy Girl Blog.
I have
- Half of a 600ml bottle of mineral water.
- An empty plastic cup thingie that held my ice blended chocolate.
- A pencil.
- My Advanced Financial Math notebook beside me.
-My phone which is missing the back part, the part that covers the battery.
-My room key.
I'm currently
- Looking for answers to a handful of questions my Advanced Financial Math gave us last week.
- Thinking of the workload.
-Thinking of doing a To-Do List and schedule.
-Waiting to go to a friend's room to ask for the solution for a question.
I have to say
- That I'm super lazy.
- I made a Tumblr. Yes, Mozart, stop wincing. To promote it, I put up a nice widget thingie at the side. But, here's the url, just in case you wanna pass it on.
http://hanisz.tumblr.com/
- I promise I have some interesting posts lined up. Also with some rants on stress induced by uni.
And somehow, this line from a song got stuck in my head from this morning:
Hello, is it me you're looking for? I can see it in your eyes.
- Half of a 600ml bottle of mineral water.
- An empty plastic cup thingie that held my ice blended chocolate.
- A pencil.
- My Advanced Financial Math notebook beside me.
-My phone which is missing the back part, the part that covers the battery.
-My room key.
I'm currently
- Looking for answers to a handful of questions my Advanced Financial Math gave us last week.
- Thinking of the workload.
-Thinking of doing a To-Do List and schedule.
-Waiting to go to a friend's room to ask for the solution for a question.
I have to say
- That I'm super lazy.
- I made a Tumblr. Yes, Mozart, stop wincing. To promote it, I put up a nice widget thingie at the side. But, here's the url, just in case you wanna pass it on.
http://hanisz.tumblr.com/
- I promise I have some interesting posts lined up. Also with some rants on stress induced by uni.
And somehow, this line from a song got stuck in my head from this morning:
Hello, is it me you're looking for? I can see it in your eyes.
Hide but Don't Seek.
I know a girl who loves to hide. When she was a kid, her favourite game would be Hide and Seek. As she grew, she still loved to hide - just not in a game with a group of friends but from the world.
Sometimes she wishes she was invisible when people look at her with distaste. When they have "look at the fat girl" written on their faces. She feels apologetic when she sits, wanting to bend low over her desk so the person behind her won't be deprived of the whiteboard. She hears the eyeballs roll, as they lean to the side slightly just to catch a glimpse of what's being written. She feels like an elephant sitting in a room full of deers.
At times, she wants to hide in her room. Hide under the covers, under the bed, anywhere. Hiding herself from the demands and expectations that rest heavily on her shoulders. She wants to turn a deaf ear to her mother calling for another chore. Or dad saying her name in dissapointment. She's often tempted to curl up with the dust bunnies under the bed, whispering to herself that if she does it long enough, they'll give up eventually.
And once in a while, she'll be unlucky enough to like someone. Allow herself to have feelings. She feels silly because she gets notions that, perhaps, they'll return the feelings too. Do they? Never. The guy's gaze will just slide over her as if she isn't there.
They don't give her a second thought. A moment's worth of time. She feels small sitting or standing there. Weeping inside as her heart starts to break again. She wants to hide herself from the rejection. Or just hide her heart and be an ice queen.
She still love to hide. Maybe one day she'll just dissapear into thin air and things will be better for her. One can hope. True?
Sometimes she wishes she was invisible when people look at her with distaste. When they have "look at the fat girl" written on their faces. She feels apologetic when she sits, wanting to bend low over her desk so the person behind her won't be deprived of the whiteboard. She hears the eyeballs roll, as they lean to the side slightly just to catch a glimpse of what's being written. She feels like an elephant sitting in a room full of deers.
At times, she wants to hide in her room. Hide under the covers, under the bed, anywhere. Hiding herself from the demands and expectations that rest heavily on her shoulders. She wants to turn a deaf ear to her mother calling for another chore. Or dad saying her name in dissapointment. She's often tempted to curl up with the dust bunnies under the bed, whispering to herself that if she does it long enough, they'll give up eventually.
And once in a while, she'll be unlucky enough to like someone. Allow herself to have feelings. She feels silly because she gets notions that, perhaps, they'll return the feelings too. Do they? Never. The guy's gaze will just slide over her as if she isn't there.
They don't give her a second thought. A moment's worth of time. She feels small sitting or standing there. Weeping inside as her heart starts to break again. She wants to hide herself from the rejection. Or just hide her heart and be an ice queen.
She still love to hide. Maybe one day she'll just dissapear into thin air and things will be better for her. One can hope. True?
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Week 6- Saying Something.
So, this week's question is:
If you could meet anyone, living or dead, who would it be? What would you say to them or ask them?
First of all, Mozart, I'm going to do this in a letter form. Because it seems to be the appropriate format for a question like this.
If you could meet anyone, living or dead, who would it be? What would you say to them or ask them?
First of all, Mozart, I'm going to do this in a letter form. Because it seems to be the appropriate format for a question like this.
Dear Atuk(read: grandpa),
The first time I saw a picture of you was when I was 16, a small miniature hidden away by one of Mama's sisters. You indeed looked a quiet man, just how Mama described you. The calm parent. I grew up with stories of how kind and hardworking you were in raising a family of nine. You did many odd jobs to make ends meet and you still had time to look at all of your kids' homework every night.
Over the years, Mama told me how you grew up with a mean stepmother who had no qualms over beating you up with anything she can get her hands on. Thankfully you had plenty of aunts and uncles who interverned and took you in. You eventually married one of your own cousins and started a life of your own.
I'm not going to touch on how none of your 29 grandchildren and 2 great grandchildren got the chance to meet you. I'm sure we all missed out on a wonderful grandfather. What tears me up right now is how you passed away the day before your youngest daughter was born. Everytime I see my youngest aunt, I feel sad for her. I tried to imagine how it must be for her, for everyone during that first few years. Emotionally as Mama had told me how she had to work at a factory, peeling prawns at the age of 15 during weekends. And that was just the beggining.
If I could meet you, I would only say one thing. Thank you for making Mama your favourite. Only when she talks of you that she get the soft loved look on her face. I know she still misses you after 33 years. Maybe one day you'll meet again.
Love,
Hanis, your 6th grandchild.
Saturday, March 19, 2011
Going Back to Childhood.
I'm currently watching CSI Season 11 on the telly. CSI is one of the few shows that can keep my interest and attention. Along with Project Runway, Glee and some Disney shows. Yes, I'm a sucker for those pre-teens shows that don't have yucky Miley Cyrus in it.
Last night, while waiting for Sonny With a Chance to start, I was channel surfing and came across Rugrats.
God, I fucking love that show. I first watched it about 15 years ago. Fell in love with it and I can proudly say I still love it.
Know what I gonna do now?
Find a Rugrats theme song to download as my message song.
And read all about it on Wikipedia.
While reading Sailormoon manga online. Or maybe I should go and check if they're still selling it. How I love Sailor Mercury and Mars.
Looks like this weekend is one to relive my childhood's interests.
Peace Out.
Last night, while waiting for Sonny With a Chance to start, I was channel surfing and came across Rugrats.
God, I fucking love that show. I first watched it about 15 years ago. Fell in love with it and I can proudly say I still love it.
Know what I gonna do now?
Find a Rugrats theme song to download as my message song.
And read all about it on Wikipedia.
While reading Sailormoon manga online. Or maybe I should go and check if they're still selling it. How I love Sailor Mercury and Mars.
Looks like this weekend is one to relive my childhood's interests.
Peace Out.
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Guess It's Someone's Birthday Today.
This day last year was a special day for me. Well, it was the birthday of someone who was very special to me at that time. I remember spending the day finishing their birthday gift. A 10,000 word story about a vampire and an angel. It was the long story that came after a series of short ones.
What did I get? Something less than gratitude.
So, in celebration of your birthday today, thank you very much for not being in my life anymore. I've never been better. Seriously. I hope you're still alive and less of a jerk out there. With age comes maturity but I'm not sure about you.
Thank you for all the hurt. Today, I had a wonderful day of classes, test and friends. I got a wonderful mark for last week's test. I would have never been here if it weren't for you not being here anymore.
Happy Birthday.
May you live long enough to regret what you did.
What did I get? Something less than gratitude.
So, in celebration of your birthday today, thank you very much for not being in my life anymore. I've never been better. Seriously. I hope you're still alive and less of a jerk out there. With age comes maturity but I'm not sure about you.
Thank you for all the hurt. Today, I had a wonderful day of classes, test and friends. I got a wonderful mark for last week's test. I would have never been here if it weren't for you not being here anymore.
Happy Birthday.
May you live long enough to regret what you did.
Monday, March 14, 2011
I'm Thinking, Second Blog. Maybe?
So, in my boredom, well more like when I skipped a 4pm class due to being uber tired and sleepy, plus it was raining cats and dogs complete with thunder *was hiding under her blanket* I thought of an idea. Well, a concept for a second blog.
I love writing letters. Usually when I can't say it to the person intended. So, a blog of letters for random people in my life. Perhaps what I think about them. Or how I feel. Anything. Yes, names won't be included unless in certain cases.
This is obviously a short quick post. So, what do you think? Any thoughts? Ideas? Suggestions?
Peace Out.
I love writing letters. Usually when I can't say it to the person intended. So, a blog of letters for random people in my life. Perhaps what I think about them. Or how I feel. Anything. Yes, names won't be included unless in certain cases.
This is obviously a short quick post. So, what do you think? Any thoughts? Ideas? Suggestions?
Peace Out.
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Attempt at Writing: Prompt 161
This came from prompt 161: Write a mini-story (100-250 words) that begins with "They had nothing to say to each other"
But, I managed to make it 359 words. Oh well. Do read and comment? Godkids are waiting to be given away.
They had nothing to say to each other. As the illicit chatter around them grew quiet at a glare from the librarian, the large room felt too small for her. Picking up a pen before letting it slip from her fingers only a moment later, she was radiating with nerves.
Clearing his throat, he fixed his gaze at her, only staring at the top of her dark head, wishing and waiting with every beat of his heart. His inner voice urged her to look up just so he could look away from those brown eyes. Just to hide the emotions in his.
She pulled out her tiny music player, clumsy too big fingers slipping at her attempt to find a song. A particular song that been playing around in her head the past week. Hearing him clearing his throat, by reflex she looked up at him, caught in his clear gaze.
Her eyes were wide and scared, he thought sadly, unable to wrench his eyes away from how her lower lip trembled ever so slightly. Supressing a sigh when she looked back down to her music player and notes, he looked around the room. Warm, cosy, shelves upon shelves of books.
Seeing a chance of distraction, she reached out and placed the player on his book, earphones plugged in readily. She held her gaze at the gadget as she saw his hands took the earphones before pressing the play button. She could just imagine the song and words tumbling into his ears and mind.
The moment he heard the words, he smiled, giving the song a chance to play out before pulling out the earplugs. Sliding his hand to the middle of the table, he gave a few taps with his fingers, bringing her eyes to his. Raising his hand, slowly but confidently he signed out four words.
I like you too.
She signed back, slowly for his benefit.
Truly?
"Yes,"
Thank God.
"You had nothing to worry about, silly"
Rolling her eyes, she looked down at her notes again before feeling his hand slip into hers. They had nothing to say to each other that couldn't be told with signing.
But, I managed to make it 359 words. Oh well. Do read and comment? Godkids are waiting to be given away.
They had nothing to say to each other. As the illicit chatter around them grew quiet at a glare from the librarian, the large room felt too small for her. Picking up a pen before letting it slip from her fingers only a moment later, she was radiating with nerves.
Clearing his throat, he fixed his gaze at her, only staring at the top of her dark head, wishing and waiting with every beat of his heart. His inner voice urged her to look up just so he could look away from those brown eyes. Just to hide the emotions in his.
She pulled out her tiny music player, clumsy too big fingers slipping at her attempt to find a song. A particular song that been playing around in her head the past week. Hearing him clearing his throat, by reflex she looked up at him, caught in his clear gaze.
Her eyes were wide and scared, he thought sadly, unable to wrench his eyes away from how her lower lip trembled ever so slightly. Supressing a sigh when she looked back down to her music player and notes, he looked around the room. Warm, cosy, shelves upon shelves of books.
Seeing a chance of distraction, she reached out and placed the player on his book, earphones plugged in readily. She held her gaze at the gadget as she saw his hands took the earphones before pressing the play button. She could just imagine the song and words tumbling into his ears and mind.
The moment he heard the words, he smiled, giving the song a chance to play out before pulling out the earplugs. Sliding his hand to the middle of the table, he gave a few taps with his fingers, bringing her eyes to his. Raising his hand, slowly but confidently he signed out four words.
I like you too.
She signed back, slowly for his benefit.
Truly?
"Yes,"
Thank God.
"You had nothing to worry about, silly"
Rolling her eyes, she looked down at her notes again before feeling his hand slip into hers. They had nothing to say to each other that couldn't be told with signing.
Week 5- Children.
This week's question is a pretty interesting one if I might say. It has to do with the future and reasoning. Which then lead me to a what if moment.
Do you want children? Why or why not?
At first I told Mozart of course duh. I wouldn't deprive the future people of the world of my wonderful offsprings who will own sadly, only half of my amazing genes. And hopefully half of an equally amazing guy's.
But seriously, yes, I would like to have children of my own.
What? Why would I want to overpopulate the world and basically just give birth to more mouths to feed with this world's limited food supply? Yes, I've read about people with such views. And from what I've read, those people are often, either grew up with crappy parents/had shitty childhoods/went through some form of abuse or just one of those types who thinks children are shitty. I do hate the latter. How I wish their parents thought the same and decided not to have any children of their own.
Moving on toreason reasons of my answer.
From the outside, I had the perfect childhood. From the inside, not so much. Its not as scary as some people's though. To put it simply, my parents weren't those supportive, my daughter is too good for anyone and she's simply wonderful/amazing/smart and we're best friends kind of parents. Ever wonder why I rather keep some problems to myself? Now you know.
No, my parents are wonderful they are. No, I don't wish for them to change. I'm grateful that none of my parents walked out on us, or had an affair, or thought coporeal punishment is a definite must in your daily chores. I grew up into someone who has a sense of right and wrong and don't feel as if she has to be part of a clique.
What does this have to do with my wanting children?
Because I would like to be the parent my parents never were to me. I want to be someone's whole world, even only for a limited time(until they grow older) and know how it is to have someone who is truly yours. I once said to a close friend that I'm afraid I'll be like my mother. Said friend told me, just my fear of that, will prevent it from happening.
I want to be that mother who's best friends with their kids. The one who'll tell her son to always respect a girl's crush on him even if he doesn't return it. The one who'll tell her daughter that teenage boys are often silly and that jerk will soon kick himself in few years time for letting her go. The mother whose kids will come to with problems, not with fear of scoldings.
But I'll still take slices of what my parents taught me and made sure my children will grow up to be even more amazing than me.
And the what if moment?
What if I'm not able to have children of my own? Adoption, perhaps will be the answer. As my very last option. Better yet, I won't even think of it until I absolutely have to.
Oh well, head on over to Mozart and read his post. And comment on it. And on this one too. Remember that.
Peace Out.
Do you want children? Why or why not?
At first I told Mozart of course duh. I wouldn't deprive the future people of the world of my wonderful offsprings who will own sadly, only half of my amazing genes. And hopefully half of an equally amazing guy's.
But seriously, yes, I would like to have children of my own.
What? Why would I want to overpopulate the world and basically just give birth to more mouths to feed with this world's limited food supply? Yes, I've read about people with such views. And from what I've read, those people are often, either grew up with crappy parents/had shitty childhoods/went through some form of abuse or just one of those types who thinks children are shitty. I do hate the latter. How I wish their parents thought the same and decided not to have any children of their own.
Moving on to
From the outside, I had the perfect childhood. From the inside, not so much. Its not as scary as some people's though. To put it simply, my parents weren't those supportive, my daughter is too good for anyone and she's simply wonderful/amazing/smart and we're best friends kind of parents. Ever wonder why I rather keep some problems to myself? Now you know.
No, my parents are wonderful they are. No, I don't wish for them to change. I'm grateful that none of my parents walked out on us, or had an affair, or thought coporeal punishment is a definite must in your daily chores. I grew up into someone who has a sense of right and wrong and don't feel as if she has to be part of a clique.
What does this have to do with my wanting children?
Because I would like to be the parent my parents never were to me. I want to be someone's whole world, even only for a limited time(until they grow older) and know how it is to have someone who is truly yours. I once said to a close friend that I'm afraid I'll be like my mother. Said friend told me, just my fear of that, will prevent it from happening.
I want to be that mother who's best friends with their kids. The one who'll tell her son to always respect a girl's crush on him even if he doesn't return it. The one who'll tell her daughter that teenage boys are often silly and that jerk will soon kick himself in few years time for letting her go. The mother whose kids will come to with problems, not with fear of scoldings.
But I'll still take slices of what my parents taught me and made sure my children will grow up to be even more amazing than me.
And the what if moment?
What if I'm not able to have children of my own? Adoption, perhaps will be the answer. As my very last option. Better yet, I won't even think of it until I absolutely have to.
Oh well, head on over to Mozart and read his post. And comment on it. And on this one too. Remember that.
Peace Out.
Friday, March 11, 2011
Let Me Tell You a Story.
I'm going to tell you a story. An interesting one, in my opinion. It happened about 5 months ago to a young lady who was interning her ass off for a handful of months. So one day her supervisor from university came to visit and fastfowarding the story, the supervisor told her that her office supervisor mentioned how good her English is.
So this young lady just gave a half shrug, awkward and not knowing how to reply to that. But wait, it seems the supervisor from university had her own comment.
"Of course, *insert university's name* puts emphasis on our students' English and they have English classes and so on,"
It was obvious that the supervisor was saying that this young lady's ability to converse in English is all thanks to the university. Now, the interesting part is what went on in this intern's mind.
"Fucking bullshit."
In her opinion, her fluency has nothing to do with her university. Her presentation skills, yes. Her getting over her stage fright, yes. Her English? No. Yes, she learns in English at university but that didn't contribute anything. Just look at some of her classmates. Or a random student in the whole campus. Some are good. Some aren't. Some tempts her to smack their mouth shut.
The good, the bad and the ugly.
So, it was obvious why she was kinda pissed at the supervisor's comment. She was tempted to snap her fingers and go all:
"Lady, my being good in English is due to my reading/writing/listening/watching things in English. Let's not forget my living abroad for 2 short years. That might have sparked her interest Nothing to do with the university's system. So don't take credit for it,"
But the intern said nothing and only gave another shrug. When she went home that day, she told her mother who laughed so hard. And said the exact thing that her daughter thought. The university had nothing to do with it. If so, why most of the other students aren't as good?
The End.
Wonderful story right?
Peace Out.
So this young lady just gave a half shrug, awkward and not knowing how to reply to that. But wait, it seems the supervisor from university had her own comment.
"Of course, *insert university's name* puts emphasis on our students' English and they have English classes and so on,"
It was obvious that the supervisor was saying that this young lady's ability to converse in English is all thanks to the university. Now, the interesting part is what went on in this intern's mind.
"Fucking bullshit."
In her opinion, her fluency has nothing to do with her university. Her presentation skills, yes. Her getting over her stage fright, yes. Her English? No. Yes, she learns in English at university but that didn't contribute anything. Just look at some of her classmates. Or a random student in the whole campus. Some are good. Some aren't. Some tempts her to smack their mouth shut.
The good, the bad and the ugly.
So, it was obvious why she was kinda pissed at the supervisor's comment. She was tempted to snap her fingers and go all:
"Lady, my being good in English is due to my reading/writing/listening/watching things in English. Let's not forget my living abroad for 2 short years. That might have sparked her interest Nothing to do with the university's system. So don't take credit for it,"
But the intern said nothing and only gave another shrug. When she went home that day, she told her mother who laughed so hard. And said the exact thing that her daughter thought. The university had nothing to do with it. If so, why most of the other students aren't as good?
The End.
Wonderful story right?
Peace Out.
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