we've pulled too many false alarms

Right now, I am practicing self inflicted pain. I am listening to Rap. Unlike my usual preferences of rap (aka Epik High and Lupe Fiasco), I'm listening to what I really and utmostly despise. Nicki Minaj. If you know me really well, you would know that I hate what Nicki Minaj preaches, her voice, her look, everything. Nicki Minaj. So, why am I putting myself in this awful position? Well, staying alone quietly with my deepest thoughts is really self destructing. Mentally, of course.

Some how, the usual cures; John Mayer, Paramore, Maroon 5, Khottal, Arcade Fire, Epik High, they don't seem to work. They're supposed to work. They're supposed to be my Placebo. They're supposed to psyche me to feel all happy again. To feel better. The combination of rain, sleep, sudoku and John Mayer never failed before. Albeit that, they used to be accompanied by ice- cream or chocolate or whatever but I doubt that's the failing point. John Mayer always work.

With the failure of everything dawning on me, I am left with the one thing I know would distract me from my thoughts; Rap. I am not emotionally bound to Lil Wayne and LMFAO as I am to Mumford and Sons and the Temper Trap. I am not in love with Chris Brown as I am with Ellie Goulding. I don't tie Pitbull to scenes of my life as I do to MGMT and Feist. I am not as hopelessly wishing I'm the girl John Mayer sang about than Akon. Rap is something I can't ruin. I can't hate it if something goes awry as I already hate it.

I'm not saying that I hate people who likes rap. I mean, my friends, my friends! loves Nicki Minaj and Lil Wayne and LMFAO. Who the hell is Feist? But rap would eventually tire me. Annoy me. It would eventually expire its welcome. I would move back to Snow Patrol and Matt Costa. Besides, how long can I actually survive listening to some guy wishing he was up and in a hoe's throat? No more that 10 minutes, sorry. I'd take Big Time Rush's gay faces anytime over Nicki Minaj.

Current Location: next to Hitam, my love
Current Mood: doomed (or so say John Mayer in Slow Dancing In A Burning Room)
Current Music: Cold December- Matt Costa

to me, you are

Inspired by What You Are To Me by Chelsea Fagan.

To me, you are 5.00 p.m. The rain just stopped. It was incredibly sunny but dripping wet. And extremely windy. The grass and the tress were saturated with colour. Rain made them brighter in shade. I'm outside sitting on a white porch chair with a cup of Milo, a long overdue History homework and Yuna on my iPod. My fat tabby cat curled up on the chair opposite of mine. Purring. You are that perfect afternoon in this ever terrible climate.

To me, you are the smell of garlic stir- fried in oil waiting for another ingredient to be put into the pan when I pass by the kitchen on the way home from school. The smell of home cooking. The feeling I get when I realized that something good is cooking in the kitchen which is a rare sight when the house is in the midst of renovation. You are the smell of affection and love in the form of food.

You are the time I scrolled through HBO's movie list and magically found a screening of Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist at let's say, primetime. I get that warm, fuzzy feeling that someone out there in HBO Asia's office appreciates Nick and Norah. Appreciates good music though in reality, they were simply paid to air the movie. I still felt happy anyway.

You are a song. False Start by Furniture.You're pretty. You're upbeat. You lift me up. You made me dance around trying to mimic the lyricless beginning of the song. You are my ringtone. Actually, I rephrase. You are a few songs, actually. You are the Temper Trap's Sweet Disposition. Simply because that's what you are, honestly. You are Khottal. YMFT. Truly.

You are 4.00 a.m. I'm alone. I looked up the sky and there were a sea of stars. And a moon. I have never seen a sight like it before. I had yet to turn fifteen but I have seen the gorgeous Subang skyline. I was in a mosque. Hurriedly dressed up but I smelled like Victoria's Secret. I had an amazing laugh- until- you- burst- into- tears night. I was away from home. I saw the stars. I was utterly and completely happy. You are that.

Sometimes, you're not all that happy parts. You are an afternoon where I slept the whole day just so I don't have to face anything. With Dido on, of course. There are times when you are a Sufian Abas excerpt. You are sad, deep, stupid and I'm the fool. Most of the times like this, you are a bad, overrated K-pop band with a penchant for gauzy suits, tarty platinum blonde hair and awful English pronunciation.

You are this big lump of things. Both good and bad. Like a chocolate crumble soft cookie and I'm looking for the chocolatey gooey part. Sometimes there's a lot of it. Sometimes I can't even find any but when I found it, I'm ecstatic and I'm savouring every second of it. You are inhuman. You are a chocolate crumble soft cookie. Nuff said. Now, can someone drive me to Subway to get one? No? I'll die a little inside then, for tonight.

Current Location: perched on a clock

Current Mood: waiting for 7.30 p.m. to strike

Current Music: Everyone's Starting Over (Diggs cover)- Beat Radio

To anyone out there, if you're reading, check out Beat Radio.

lampu denyar, lampu limpah

Here I am, at home with a partially blocked nose, headache the size of Masjid Negara and boredom beyond compare. Well, at least I don't have to feel the guilt of being completely tired at school while everybody goes all "Wuhuhuhu".

The last couple of weekends had been absurdly tiring and exciting (possible factors of my being sick) and this week (and the last) have been a busy yet productive week for the house. As per usual, La Mamasita decided that our humble abode needs another makeover (yet again for the umpteenth time since I hit puberty). So, men of all shape and sizes, colours and races came along to modify Ze Grande Abode to an even more grand abode and probably be called Le Haute Abode after this. The house will be completely modified by Puasa (which reminds me, it's only FIVE days away! WOOHOOHOO!). Yes, I love the fasting month! Why the hell not?

I am currently nursing my cold with an amazing playlist by Uzair Sawal. Don't ask me who is this. Currently am following his blog on Tumblr and he is kind of sweet, I guess judging by his posts and he's in New York! Uber- jealous. Speaking of, OH WHEN AM I GONNA GET 40MIL AND GO TO NEW YORK? Maybe I don't need 40mil at all to fulfil that dream. Hmm. Oh well, his 'Patah Hati Playlist' is just amazing! Same taste in music as me, I guess. He even included Lightcraft (I remember owning their album sometime ago). Eargasm! Now listening to Lightcraft's Tanpa Jawaban.

Twenty- one minutes passed since I typed the last phrase. See how I procrastinate here? I have issues that require solving, ey? I guess reading beats writing anytime with the amusement of Teh Tarik Gelas Besar and Safinaz Yazed. They're strangers in your world and my real world but in my imaginary world, their words are a part of a big big book with photographs. Like a memoir. Speaking of memoirs, I have to get John Lennon's memoir and finish reading Into Thin Air. It's definitely collecting dust beneath my pile of read books. I need to learn to get things done before time. I need to, I need to, I need to.

And with this, I conclude that

#1 I have to get my Chemistry homework done so that I can return Ke Jia's book. Tak datang sekolah pulak tuh -.-
#2 Finish my Physics and Add Maths tuition work
#3 Get more Clarinase before I drown in my own snot
#4 Write a long, long, long overdue letter
#5 Throw all my used tissues away.

Current Location: home.
Current Mood: SAYA TIDAK INGIN KE TUSYEN.
Current Song: Unfinished Business- White Lies

p/s Just watched Yuna's Memo. Nak buat lah, macam tu!

there's a science to fear.

It's 19th June and for the first time in ever, I am actually bored. Like, I literally have nothing to do bored. Problem is, I no longer know what to do when I'm bored. Come to think of it, if I knew what to do then, I wouldn't be bored. Right. Aaaand for the first time since never, I'm listening to songs on shuffle which I have never done before. It's actually interesting to put everything on the iPod in shuffle because you won't know what's next and I have to keep refraining myself from stop going into shuffle and listen to a particular album like I always do. Imma be on shuffle tonight. For now it's Ellie Goulding's cover of the Temper Trap's Sweet Disposition. I'm willing to bet that I'm the only one who thinks it's so much more raw than the original version.

Then again, everyone sounds better live. Unless they're talentless, of course.

Okay, couldn't resist myself. It's on repeat now.

Exam's long over and I didn't feel good about the results.  Heck, when have I ever felt good about any exam. Oh wait, remember that time back when you were like, 14 and you felt good about it? Yeah, let's not dwell on that. Never mind that I just realized (and yes, it took me almost 16 years to figure this out) that I can't slum it anymore and still expect to get more than 90. Nor can I flip through the book recklessly 30 minutes before the exam and remember the whole thing. Nor can I sing a song and choose the selection that my finger hovered over on the last phrase of the song.

It took me 16 years to discover that a string of As won't start pouring down like rain. What have I been doing for the past 10 years of school? Yeah, not so much of learning ain't it? I have no clue how I obtained A's during my PMR. I mean, like, when the hell did I ever actually read and memorize things from the book because as far as I know, school books and I have been having the same issues since I was 10. My complete inability to absorb words from the textbook or even look at it for more than thirteen minutes before being distracted by something that wasn't even remotely interesting like Solitaire, of course.

The lesson here is, always always always study. So, I have a few words of wisdom for myself. That's what you get, bitch for not studying, not paying attention, not sending in or even bother to do your homework, not giving a fuck about world history, oh, and not quadraple checking because giiirrrll, you made so many little mistakes that you erased but forgot to write when you left it to dry.

Oh, wait. And another lesson is don't even bother trying to be creative or even mad quirky in your English essay (in fact, don't even put effort) because hell, the teacher ain't even reading what you wrote. Who cares that you just wrote one of the quirkiest stories with the coolest puns and of course, memorable quotes from Scott Pilgrim and How I Met Your Mother and Nick and Norah? Who cares that you were abso- fucking- lutely was inspired by Shopaholic's little gig at the boutique in the Secret Dream World of Shopaholic and Aubrey Plaza's character Julie's IDGAF attitude to customers in Scott Pilgrim? Never mind that you were oh- so- completely immersed in your writing that you had a whole movie thought of based on your story. Oh, did I mention that you had a soundtrack so amazing and so mind- blowing in mind, you yourself would pay a hard RM 50 for the soundtrack? No? Well, now I did. Did I mention that you just spent an hour writing until your hand turned numb but you didn't care because it was gonna kick ass but all you got was a measly 42/ 50 for it while you had an impeccable grammar and sophisticated vocabulary that was admired by your former English tutor and one of the guys whose opinion, experience and creativity you admire and respect. Oh, and the boy who had the worst writing, dullest storyline with no sense of plot and was anti- climatic, couldn't even spell 'succeed' to save his life nor could he form ten consecutive sentences that was gramatically correct got highest for English and problem is, you know he didn't score that much on the other sections either.

If that's how you're going to mark the papers (mindless points instead of creativity and language and of course, obeying the law of plots), I might as well toss my dreams of trying to pursue the title of being one of the best writers around which I had since I wrote an essay of a 'gangster boy' with an adorable, adolescent crush on a pretty girl. I might as well quit being in English class altogether if my efforts was being so unrecognized. Hell, I might as well need to write a standard 4's standard of essay in order to actually obtain marks that is more than average. Excellent, in fact. Long gone are the days where my essays were actually being read and commented on. Oh, how I miss you Pn. Shahrizad!

Current Location: Maharaja Lawak Land. Aaaah, so funnyyyy, me likey :D
Current Mood: Don't even care, whatever.
Current Song: I'm watching Maharaja Lawak, acane tu?

no one has the guts to shut us out.

All out of a sudden, there is a surge of people adding me on Facebook and I realized they all came from the same group of people. My old sekolah agama friends. I mistook one for another and and remembered their names wrong. We weren't very close in the first place but there are some whom I remembered spending a lot of good times with. Sneaking out of classes, cheating in our exams, pulling pranks, share our crushes and so on. And then, school ended.

We got separated. Unlike my public school friends, we attend the same secondary school and hang around the same old circles but they moved further away. A lot of them went on to boarding schools, mainly the Islam- centered ones. Looking at their pictures in an attempt to rediscover who is who, I realized that they were the kind of girls I could have been. Maybe, should have been.

Nice, good girls. Obedient. Good, generally. I admit, though I enjoy being free, part of me envy them. If I save money, it would have been to get myself into another concert, get my self another dress, buy another CD, buy another issue of a magazine. I save and I would spend on something my own mum would deem as useless. When they save money, they got themselves that new nasyid CD or the next issue of Solusi or that new Muslim- friendly novel.

They are the girls my mum would love me to be. Not the girl that spends RM 20 on a magazine that will end up all torn apart in an attempt to make a collage. Not the girl that buys a CD and ends up losing it between all the mess in the room. Not the girl who goes to movies and forgets what it was all about in the next three months. Yes, I admit. It might have been nice to be that kind of girl. Approved, not condemned.

Then again, I know I am not that girl. I am not obedient. I am not one to stay at home on a good day. I am not one to miss out on a good live show. I am not one to miss out on a good time. I don't care what people think, really. I am going to be the girl I want to be. I am not going to succumb under pressure and scrutiny and be the girl people want me to be. It's not like I run wild. Like Aizat said, I may be a "tudung girl" but I'm still cool.

And mum, an iPod is not the devil. Just because I shut myself out from the world when I plug on my iPod, doesn't mean I can't hear what you're saying. In fact, I can hear you all too well. I'm not listening to some satan- worshipping band. Even if they do, I don't care. I am not a Bieber fan. I don't care about the musicians. I care about the sounds they produce. Who cares if Julian Casablancas is a pedophile? He's not, just so you know. If the Strokes is good, then they're good.

It's not like I'm listening to some death metal either. Sure I have a song called 'Satan Said Dance' in my iPod but that song wasn't even related to Satan. Sure, Gaga is suspected an Illuminati. It's not like she told me to not pray, it's not like I go by what she preach either. Sure Hummingbird Heartbeat is pretty much about sex but it's not like I'm going to charge ahead and do it. Seriously, do you not trust me that much, ma?

I'd kill to say shut the hell up about all the crap you give to my "noisy crap". When I put a CD on, you said it's too noisy and change the radio station. Fine. When I plug my earphones, you said I'm listening to the devil. Well sorry, ma, I am not the girl you want me to be. And maybe I won't be the girl you want me to be.

Current Location: in a world where I deserve to be angsty
Current Mood: not all too well
Current Music: Set The Fire To The Third Bar- Snow Patrol ft Martha Wainwright

and Snow Patrol ain't the devil either.