Showing posts with label Sob Moments. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sob Moments. Show all posts

Saturday, April 18, 2009

Colleges

A friend of mine is planning to join Gonville & Caius, pronounced as 'Keys', located at the high-end world of academics known as Cambridge. THE Cambridge.

I really want to join you, genius friend. But let's be real here, I don't really have the 'Key' ingredient to even qualify as an applicant. Cambridge, in and of itself, is already such a wonderfully out-of-reach target. But one of the HARDEST college to get into within such an imposing institution?

Sometimes you can feel so bashed and stupid by such kind gestures lol.

I'm pretty sure Goneville & Chaos would love to have me as their newest member though.


*************************************************************************************


My world is collapsing in on me.

Otou-san, Okaa-san... be strong. For everyone.

Thursday, April 9, 2009

The Phone Call from Raudhah...

Dad just called me from Madinah, and now I've got tears in my eyes.

When did he get so... aged? So fragile, sensitive? When did he start giving into sorrow so easily?

It felt like yesterday when we considered him the strictest father alive, with the whole 'botol kicap' incident and 'double punishment'- one for little bro, one for me- whenever lil bro failed to learn something with me. Though his strict demeanor can never be abolished by even half of what it was a decade ago, he has become much calmer, more tolerant; and now I feel like a spoilt brat.

It's funny how sad he makes me when he's not yelling or giving me harsh advice. Gentle words of advice, and well-wishes; reminders of how much they love me and hope I do better; dhu'a for my success... Those touch me more than a slap that can propel me ten feet backwards.

When we were much, much younger, we used to think our father got mad at our failures because he doesn't care.

When we were much, much, younger, we used to think his punishments towards our ill behaviour were purely mean.

When we were much,much younger, we used to think that he didn't love us enough to keep himself from scolding and punishing us with stricter means than the other dads...

And now we're older.

I'm older.

And I understand now that nothing could change how my father shows his love towards his cherished, beloved children, and the sacrifices he's made for us.

I understand now that though other dads may have never laid a hand on their children to correct them, it would probably not be best for the bunch of innately, slightly stubborn children that we were- that I definitely was. Am. Ever so slightly.

I understand now what it means when I first heard the words 'We punish you because we love you...'

I've never gone through a more emotional period in my whole life.

Sunday, April 5, 2009

Pieces

Tune: Pieces by Red


I'm here again, a thousand miles away from you

A broken mess, just scattered pieces of who I am
I tried so hard, thought I could do this on my own
I've lost so much along the way


My beloved dearies... I feel torn-up. If I could mitigate this feeling, only by one-tenth of this sensation that it currently is, I would be at least 50% more satisfied with myself. Unfortunately, this is not the case; I have apparently run out of ways to... to make myself a more useful person where I am, at this very moment.

'Tis the side-effect of seeing human beings more efficacious (if this word even applies correctly), garnered by the world wide web... To say it's dispiriting is an understatement. All those achievements at such a young age, adept at utilising resources to the maximum potential... Earning money by four figures while I'm still here snivelling and dependent on my Dad's monthly allowance! I love my Dad for that. He says it's his responsibility until I get my own job; until I get a (hopefully decent) husband.

But these unbelievably inspirational people... they're already from well-off families, to put the icing on the cake. No, screw icing. How about some decorative form of marzipan? Because honestly, I've been told I should imagine I'm from a more unfortunate background to work myself that extra bit harder; to conceive the notion of struggling through everything just so I can escape the life that I already have. And there they are, on greener pastures yet still toiling like their lives depended on it...

I need my inspiration. My reasons for living, for pulling through the knee-deep mud field that life's difficulties are. As I am yet incapable of turning to God for the ultimate source of comfort without His worldly gifts for me, I instantly thought of the people who matter the most to me. Mom and Dad I've communicated with within this week. I still miss them a lot...

But I miss my adorable little brothers and sisters more, because I haven't even spoken to them for almost a month now. And it f**king sucks that I haven't even gotten their pictures to ease my heartache.

I settled with the next best thing- the most vivid memories I can conjure in my mind's eye. I need them all the more because going through turmoiled simply gives you more emo depth than normal circumstances would allow.


Then I'll see your face, I know I'm finally yours
I find everything I thought I lost before
You call my name, I come to you in pieces
So you can make me whole


My youngest brother coming back from school for the lunch break as I washed the dishes. Running to hug me from behind as I washed the plates contemplatively, staring out the window above the sink into the neat, grassy garden bordered by the white wall, beyond which the roof of the school building rose, seen between the trees lining the back wall. The doorbell chime ends to start again, letting in my youngest little sister in a flurry of soft curly hair and - and her most adorable babyjackets...

It is but the greatest irony how I find my youngest little sister at her cutest in her appropriately-named babyjackets, whilst my youngest little brother looks most precious in that oversized sweater of his. The attire that never failed them an extra long, extra crushing and most importanly very annoying hug from me.

In my mind's eyes I see them as 2-feet tall midgets- not in the deformed sense, but in the portrayal of how babyish I perceive them to be, even when they are only a few years shy of turning into teenagers.

My little baby angels are going to turn into teenagers.

It's a very disturbing fact that this fact is disturbing me so much.

But they still relent to my suffocating affection. Allow me that extra tight hug, those painful cheek pinches, my cooing over how cute they are (which should be hard, considering how they are too grown-up for my babyish cooings). I know they don't mind even if they constantly voice out otherwise because their eyes show that glimmer of affection back at me, as if they were fully comprehending their rarely-around eldest sister's need to... well, suffocate them with her 'limited edition' love.

I mean seriously. Why do I have to be so far away from them? More importantly, will I ever learn to cope with the distance?

... My youngest little sister's adorable demonstration of how the new weird-looking toaster works, complete with the final 'Ting!' and a 'Tadaa~!' that I torment her with every single day after that because it was so ethereally cute... And misleading. Of all of us, I have to admit that at her age, she shows the greatest promise of being The Responsible One, despite her kawaii-ness and totally childish crushes *snickers* DON'T TELL HER I SAID THAT!

... My youngest little brother's heart-swelling, butt-kicking athletic prowess which witnessed the downfall of each and every one of his other classmates on Sports Day (except for that Scottish kid with that annoying blonde mohawk who's a grade older than him and supposed to be in the other category, who pushed my brother 3 metres from the finish of the 400m run and succeded in making my brother land second place because he's about a foot taller and half a foot wider than my brother... right after that event he sat on the side of the track and complained of how badly his feet hurt, resulting in his non-participation in every event afterwards bar the final tug-of-war *cough*serveshimright!*cough*)

Then there are my already-teenage oldest little sister and oldest little brother. Annoying former, though we are so undeniably alike in numerous, surprising ways... And the best, most understanding teenage little brother any sister in the world can ever have.


I've come undone
But you make sense of who I am
Like puzzle pieces in your eye


She's the annoying brat in the family, our very own drama queen, the FedEx member. She's beautiful but never seemed to indicate any sign that she realizes that, which is for the better. We pick on almost everything she does, with good reason; she tends to mess up just about everything!
... And yet our tastes just click. Proven most recently by the cash shop items chosen by me in a new private server MMORPG I've tried: after each item of my initial choosing my youngest little brother would (squeak) say 'But that's what she chose earlier', to my great consternation.
Not to mention her taste in girly books exactly match mine, a fact I still deny even as I sneakily snatch a book or two from the bookshelf in her room for some light late-night reading. I know she wouldn't mind, but I wouldn't give her the pleasure of knowing that I enjoy the same books as she does, no matter how partial her tastes are to mine. It's a weird sisterly love that I reserve specially for her. I definitely do not have the same fashion sense and conscience as she does though. And from what I can derive from my parents, our intelligence sets us apart the furthest. I take that as a compliment. Evil me.

He's my oldest friend within the family, the closest human being to me apart from my Mom. Possibly closer to me than my Mom. We share 97% or our secrets with each other, an almost-impossible feat for any other twenty-year-old sister and eighteen-year-old brother.
... In fact, he means so much to me I can't even begin to describe him. Ever so understanding, yet funny and annoying. Ever so caring, yet oblivious to our existence at times. So oblivious he incurs the wrath of T3h M1ghty Dadz0r almost every dinnertime during the weekends when he's home! Yet everyone loves him and it doesn't even spark the slightest bit of envy from me... Okay, it does sometimes, when Mom wouldn't quit talking about how perfect he is in her eyes. Despite the fact that she smothers him with a lot of attention, I could never induce vomiting for his part because...he deserves every usually-vomit-inducing part of the praises sung for him.


I tried so hard, so hard
I tried so hard


And no matter how much less I need to rely on their existence in my memories when they're not around, however hard I try...

Friday, March 20, 2009

ARGH

I'm leaving already and there is absolutely no need for me to express how depressed I am again- but yet again, I'm writing merely for the sake of writing over here, at home, for the last time in the next 6 or 7 months.

I miss this place already!



When will I not look forward to going home?

Friday, March 6, 2009

Here We Are

I woke up to find myself on a big, fluffy bed, drooling on one of six pillows strewn around my head.

A perk of one ear indicated the very much welcome sound of a woman waking me up. Hold on... that's my MOM.

... And those giggling voices are my SISTERS. Preparing for school, on a Saturday...?

No wait a sec. Of course. I'm HOME!

A promise of a nice refreshing walk around the compound turned stale as I helped my excited, beloved mother chop beef (always a great early-morning exercise) for a curried lunch. I explored more of the ever-blossoming gardens around the house, courtesy of Mother Greenfingers, before sweeping the newly-made treehouse and swinging on a blue swinging bench, one of my favorite highlights of the grounds. I'd forgotten to check if the flowers on the path crossing the front yard, dubbed the PGL Path, actually bloomed in the mornings- all was lost to a box of banana milk and some seriously retarded karaokeing.

This early? Of course ^^

There's no place like home, even if going on the internet means squishing myself between a stinky just-woken-up brother (hehehe) and a standing fan, with no apparent use right now- I mean, the weather's freezing to me. It's like 15 degrees! A few years ago that would've been pleasant...

And adorable not-so-little-anymore brother is viewing a selection of anime screenshots. Just like the usual.

A long-arse, tiring transit and some seriously slow, loud immigration officers vanished from my thoughts as I arrived, half confused, looking around to be startled by three weird figures - one tall and two midget-like- running towards me full speed. On midgetkin carried a bouquet of two roses (can that even be considered a bouquet?) and the other a blue bag. I almost shouted with relief.

My beloved Dad, the best Dad in the world, with my adorable sister and brother, a pair out of two. My heart exploded with affection. All exhaustion and former irritation disappeared as a huge grin made its way to my face. That, in itself, was worth all the trouble and exhaustion for the past 18 hours, the reason I coped with every unpleasant person I've encountered.

And now goat-like bro goofs with one of my favorite Breaking Benjamin tune.

There is, indeed, no place like home.

Saturday, February 21, 2009

More Emotional Posts... Yay!

Mom called me again and told me that she was praying for my success in the exams, as she constantly does. Yes, I'm studying and yes, I'm trying my best. Case in point, I'm staying up! Of course, that's a little unfair because I'm nocturnal anyway. But that doesn't matter to Mom; what matters is I'm studying hard and trying my best!

Anywho, as she was talking I was all 'Mom, Mom,' to which she was like 'Yes dear?' and I was all...
'When you pray for me, do you ask God to make me a doctor... or just make me successful in anything I end up doing?'

She told me what I wanted to hear.

And I feel tons better right now, and can face Physics with a smile on my face.

Thank you God, for my wonderful Mom and family.

I can almost cry now lol :)