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Monday, December 31, 2012

of letters and reminders

Lately, I've been thinking about this TEDtalk I watched ages ago about a girl who wrote love letters to random people in order to cope with depression. She made an interesting point about how people don't send letters anymore and as a result, hand-written letters have become very sacred, and receiving a letter or a postcard is an absolute joy. This talk was ages ago, but I was reminded once again of its message when I was reading an article today on The Peninsula on the dying tradition of exchanging cards.

As an extremely frugal person who hates hates HATES spending money, I am in no way against fast, easy and free means of exchanging information via the Internet. In fact I absolutely love the fact that it is very easy for me to send messages quickly, especially when it's in regards to quick and immediate information or those dreaded university applications (major sigh). 

But I think that's it. Fast and cheap methods of exchanging info are for information that have no sentimental value (you would definitely not send I love you messages to universities, unless of course, that somehow gives you an edge for your applications. reality check: down the dumpster).  Things like letters and cards, they're meant to be given especially to the people you love. These things require time, effort and money and it is these things that help us indicate whether a person truly cares about us or not. It's difficult to evaluate the exact amount of love you receive if you receive a fb message or an e-card that could have just generated in a batch with the same generic message. And then there's that joy of opening a letter to reveal the contents inside. It makes these messages much more valuable and impactful, something that you will be forever imprinted in your memory.

I've realised as well that one of my favourite birthday presents ever, if not my FAVOURITE is the card Rania made for me for my 15th birthday. The card was very pretty and obviously she put quite a lot of effort in it. Everytime I see it I just get this happy, giddy feeling.

During this epiphany, I was also reading up on Islamic articles which were amazing MashaAllah about Dawah and Islam and many other things. And it made me think. With all the rage of dawah being spread through the Internet, why not through letters as well? Of course not in the rigid or dry style of information brochures but more in the old friend style. In a style where the dawah is more like a reminder for Muslims to do good and to keep going on the straight path. Like an old friend. Like an old consoling friend. ( not necessarily pertaining to age). And that dawah wont just be about dawah, it would be about getting to know the Muslim, befriending them and keeping ties together.

I think this is a great way to remind my Muslim brothers and sisters of Islam. Articles on the internet are impersonal, but letters, they are specifically to you and to you only and you feel this sort of special acknowledgement that you matter and there's someone thinking about you. I really want to do this, InshaAllah during the course of 2013. Maybe I'll start with sending letters to my friends every now and then.\ with little reminders for them and personal touches as well.

InshaAllah.

Wednesday, December 26, 2012

Homework Progress Report: Wednesday (26/12/12)

Wednesday (26/12/12)

Target: Finish all math exercises, finish lyrics writing

0833 - 0842 a little bit of math, until mother hen called me down AIGooo

0842 - 1002 ate, helped mom with cooking, watched some crash course

1003 - 1049 up until and including q5 completed for ex 3d. make a start on ex4a.

1050 - 1112 breaaaaaaaak

1113 - 1201 ex4a completed huzzah

1203 - 1238 breaaaaaaak

1238 - 1312 ex 3d completed huzzahhhhh

1312 - 1536 wowow long ass break including wasting time and eating huzzaaaaaaaaah

1537 - 1829 ex4b ,2e , 4c completed. aka i finish all my necessary c4 maths homework CELEBRATIONNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN. gonna celebrate with 2 eps of community and french fries huzzaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah




Monday, December 24, 2012

Homework Progress Report: Tuesday (25/12/12)

Tuesday (25/12/12)
Target: finish all maths, even if sleep very late
0806 - 1011 completed ex 3a, read for an hour, ate brekkie
1011 -1020 short break
1020 - 1225 completed ex 3b . had to help clean up dad's stuff sigH

quite complicated as went out nearly whole day today, but I finsihed ex 3c. leftover: ex2e, 3d, 4a,b,c.

tomorrow is the LAST CHANCE. finish all maths by midday. 3pm finsih MAX. after that, work on chemistry. come on salma you can do this.

Sunday, December 23, 2012

Homework Progress Report: Monday (24/12/12)

Monday (24/12/12)

Target: finish physics sheets, finish math exercises, sleep before 12

0550 - 0715 sholat, ate food, went on tumblr, found new books to read

0715 - 0840 physics sheets completed; breaks include pooing, cooking for brothers

0840 - 0955 lazy, prepare for outing

0955- 1216 went out with Mariam and Indira! Had some brunch at Paul's ah i miss pauls bread so yum yum.

1216 - 1640 sholat, sleep, went to the shop to buy some food

1640 - 1721 Maths

1721 - 2345 play. a lot. didnt bother studying. watched crash course and elementary. read books. aimless browsing. i'll allow myself just this once, but tomorow, i must finish maths. every single one of them. dont turn on the computer. 

Homework Progress Report: Sunday (12/23/2012)

Sunday (12/23/2012)

Target: Finish all organic sheets, finish all physics sheets, start on math work

0900 - 1121 Organic Sheets - Topic 5 Homework 1 completed
Leisure activities include, surfing tumblr for ~13 minutes, eating and reading every day

1126 - 1255 Break ( finished every day, sholat, ate lunch)

1256 - 1323 Organic Sheets - Topic 5 Homework 2 completed

1323 - 1352 Started Every day book review (small break)

1352 - 1540 Organic Sheets - Topic 5 Homework 3 completed
leisure included: talking to mom, drinking and making vanilla latte, dawdling around doing nothing

1540 - 1659 mandi, sholat, dawdled and got lazy

1700 - 1715 Organic sheets - Topic 5 Homework 4 completed

1716 - 1915 huge ass break ahahahah ate, sholat, tumblr, well i cheated on tumblr again ;_______; BUT BUT BUT PICTURES OF SHERLOCK EVERYWHERE okay no STOP what i did was WRONG crey, elementary yeah i think that's it.

1916 - 2034 finished two pages of physics

2034 - 0110 dawdled too much watched Allah made me funny; failed at making graphic; instagramming food;induced hunger



Thursday, December 20, 2012

Reading List

These are the books I hope to read...asap yo
Updated once in a while

In no particular order:


  • The Perks of Being a Wallflower
  • Life of Pi
  • Les Miserables
  • The Fault in Our Stars
  • Paper Towns
  • 1Q84
  • 1984
  • Complete Sherlock Holmes

Monday, December 17, 2012

a little bit on my non-fandom state

Approximately a week ago, I decided to quit the exo fandom. I wasn't sure exactly what prompted me to quit, but my impending departure had been something I've mulled about multiple times. I deactivated everything, twitter, tumblr, livejournal. I didn't leave a note, didn't warn anyone of my leaving - I really wanted to completely sever my ties with exo (and really, kpop as well). 

The reason why I so badly wanted to leave kpop was mostly because of the chains and restrictions I let it place over me. For the last few weeks or so, I wasn't into kpop that much, I hardly go on twitter, tumblr, write any fanfiction etc. But its presence was still there, creeping about my subconscious, provoking my conscience - I still felt I had some kind of obligation to involve myself in exo and kpop. Because this nagging feeling still lingered, I still felt the very slow effects over-indulgence of kpop invading me. These effects, I believe started the summer of 2012, when obsession with exo reached maximum levels. I didn't particularly notice them (or perhaps, I chose to ignore them. the mind works in such strange ways) at first. 

But when school started, I started to see the effects. I became lazier to do homeworks and extra work, very different from Year 11. I slacked off tests and competitions. My hifz deteriorated at an alarming rate. I was stressed, lacked a lot of sleep (got sick 3 times this term) and pms-ed as often as the sun rises. I didn't bother taking responsibility. I was insensitive to the people around me, namely my mother, putting lots and lots of burden upon her. 

In short, I was wreck.

I began to see a pattern as well. In the past few months or so, I started seeing my eeman degrade. I was lazy to pray, prayed very inadequately, took advantage of His blessings and overall, I just...did not feel close to Allah. This I believe greatly reflected my state of being during the whole term. To be honest, i have no idea how atheists do it, not having a God and all because...not being close to God is a very arduous and lonely occurrence. I spend the day forgetting God, and go to sleep at night feeling every awful emotion and regret. I hate the feeling. It spawns to every thought, every nerve, every feeling, every muscle, and chokes them in temporary happiness. And when that temporary happiness disappears, you're left suffocating all alone, gasping for air, no one to help you or give you a hand. 

One of my greatest fears, is that one day, Allah abandons me (Na'udzu billah). I was scared that occured to me, but I did not know what to do. I tried to continue praying and praying and praying, but when nothing occured, my patience ran out and i became lonely, sad and terribly depressed. 

So when I started my transition, you could tell I was definitely having a very hard time. I experienced withdrawal symptoms and as a result became desperate to grasp on to the last remaining strands of my fandom. I spent late hours, reclining to my bed at the ungodly hour of 2AM after hours and hours of looking up music, refreshing allkpop etc. I was annoyed at myself - I was supposed to dedicate more time to my studies and such, not on kpop. I wondered whether I did the right thing.

I suspected, once again, that it was my eeman. So i gave myself a challenge. Pray as slow as possible. Enunciate every part of the Salaah as carefully as possible. Give every letter its due right. I hoped and prayed that I would change.

At the weekend, after a few days of complete blackdown and difficult access to kpop, I suddenly no longer craved it. I began to feel sick of kpop and kpop music and k-variety shows and k-dramas - I really wished to go as far away as possible from these past remnants of my life and start something new. From that time on, I began to slowly change. I started watching sherlock (an ABSOLUTELY FANTASTIC TV SERIES. Planning to do an analysis on sherlock vs. elementary). I went to the book fair and found fantastic books on Islam that really calmed me down and helped clear my head. One of these books was called "The Music made me do it" - it's about Islam's position on music, which helped convince me to quit listening to music and kpop forever (InshaAllah). I started to crave reading, desperate to find Animal farm, On the Road, 1984, Life of Pi, Perks of being a wallflower, The fault in our stars,the complete Sherlock Holmes collection (planning to do a reading list too).

One of the books that really helped to move me forward was " You can be the Happiest woman in the world". In there there were many messages that encouraged me to stand up: Look at the people less fortunate than you, after every tribulation glad tidings will come, Islam is the greatest honour and gift God has given you and many more. But the one message that resonated with me the most was this: If you do the right thing and obey Allah, then surely Allah will be on your side, and when Allah is with you, you have no need to fear anything in this life and the next.

One of the greatest problems I had when leaving fandom is, how would people react to this? how would I explain to them? Will they see me as weird, stupid, backwards? Will people see me stopping listen to music and read kpop (ehem ehem) fanfiction something unnecessary, uncalled for, and downright silly? With that message however, I was able to let go of these fears and in fact, thanks to my best friend Rania, find out that I had nothing to worry about. She wholeheartedly accepted and respected my decision, and even admired and supported it. Thank you so much for calming me. I pray that Allah will reward you and give you the best in this life and the next InshaAllah.



I know there are people who can juggle different fandoms at once - unfortunately I'm not that type,and it's either one or the other. This time, I choose to indulge myself in books once again, watch a few series and movies, learn more about Islam and many more Insha'Allah. I'm not saying I will never indulge in sin or suddenly become the most religious person ever ( I believe I am still very far from that), but I am trying the best as possible to make use of my time and to improve constantly to become a strong Muslim woman, strong in her faith, Insha'Allah.

'Don't ever give up on asking forgiveness from Allah. Many times I have made mistakes and major sins in my life and for some reason, despite such horrible instances, Allah still continued to help and support me. Allah's attribute as the most Merciful is perhaps the greatest of all His attributes - it's why Ar-Rahman and Ar-Rahim are the two names most often recited. Why is it that we always start the Quran and every activity we do with Bismillahirrahmannirrahim?'

Wednesday, December 12, 2012

trust issues

usually you hate sewing personal pronouns with people.

but just for her -

you work hard and you give in your all -

only to find that feelings are not reciprocated. not as much as you've risked.

behind closed curtains, she whispers of forevers and only ones

we emerge into the light: you call her a lover, she calls you acquaintance.

both words and action slice through

you. slice through the very fabric

of your trust.



so he always indulges and absorb himself. but he never

labels.

except the one time he risked.

he doesn't know whether to keep going

and hold on to words that aren't there

or leave and abandon hope.






perhaps it's simply his idealistic view

and the expectations he establishes

in the word

"mine"




<IGNORE THANKS>i hope and pray to God that in the future, i am given a husband who cherishes, trusts, and depends on God first, and me second. someone who values my opinions, someone who runs to me for help, someone who's excited to make me happy. and i too, would do the same for him.

i hope my future husband will be my lover, my support and my bestest friend in the world. and i too hope, i would be the same to him.



of moms and overburdens

sometimes i feel like i'm overburdening my mother.

now that she's going back to school, she's had to juggle her maternal duties as well as her schoolwork. not to mention, when dad is away, she has to pick us up, drop us and do everything else that dad can do. 

sometimes i'd be selfish thinking: what's wrong with mom, why hasn't she cooked for us like she usually does, how come she doesn't have time for me anymore etc. these past few months, i've been feeling very distant with my mom, sometimes getting really angry at her.

it's been quite a turbulent and hectic week these past few days, with mom's euromoney conference and all. i've also been rather prickly with mom for reasons. i kept thinking she doesn't care about me anymore, she has no time to listen to me etc. but then i stopped and looked back and i thought: Hey, i haven't done that at all with mom.  i haven't asked how her day's been. and at that moment i realised how selfish i am and have been these past few months, and for once, i've decided to abandon my wants and needs and decided to ask mom about her day.

and the joy and happiness when she talked about the people at the conference, how humble they were and how much she's gained from it, i felt a sense of pride for my mom. and a sense of regret for how i'm spending my youth. i felt proud that she's working hard to empower herself and become a strong and educated woman. i didn't want to overburden mother anymore.

 hence why this morning, i told my mom she didn't have to go to my prize ceremony. i wanted her to have as much time as possible at the conference becoming educated and such.

but lo and behold, amongst the parents today, i saw my mom in blue smiling and taking pictures of me at my prize ceremony. 

i wonder, how can anyone be as strong and as selfless as her.

to me, she's a hero.


Monday, December 10, 2012

what is wrong with me

i don't understand.

as soon as i come home from yale, all i wanted to do was not do anything. i didn't want to catch up on work, didn't want to do homework, didn't want to study, nothing! everyday i'm being reckless, staying up till 1 AM, doing completely useless stuff, like check repeatedly on facebook, twitter etc. i'm somehow deluding myself to think everything will be all right, everything will be fine - meanwhile i have a pile of work i should be doing.

this is one of my worst habits - thinking nothing will go wrong. and then on the day, i rush and cram, trying to kill myself with information overload. i hate it. i don't understand how people can enable themselves to study months months beforehand. how do they find the motivation? what is wrong with me?

this feeling of regret keeps haunting me, following me. i regret not getting a high score on my SAT, i regret not achieving my full potential for wsc. but everyone, everyone around me is saying "omg congratulations you did so well, i'm so proud etc."

no. you guys don't know me. i DIDN'T do well. i could have done better than that. i should have been able to get into the top 5, or top 10 at least. but because i slacked off, i was floundering about, thinking everything will be all right, i didn't do well. at all. i was only saved by the graciousness of Allah. all of that, that wasn't my work. it was Allah's work. Allah made it all happen. I am so so so grateful that Allah saved me. honestly, i am NOTHING without Allah. absolutely nothing. i'd just be some kind of odd empty shell thing.

and this week, oh man this week. it's only been two days but i feel like flipping everyhting and throwing them out through the window. i'm pmsing everyday. all i'm doing is day dreaming. i space out when i sholat. i list out dozens of work to do - in the end, not even a quarter of ONE item in the to do list was done. i have bio and chem to catch up. i have a physics mini mock tomorrow. i have a whole page of quran to do. and what have i done all day today? facebook. tumblr. irrelevant stuff. absolutely irrelevant.

and to think i quitted tlist so that i could focus on my work. hah. what a joke. i'm actually doing worse now. i fell so dumb.

is it the way i'm viewing the work i have to do? do i think of them as burdens? problems? rocks i wish i never had? rocks i don't deserve?

however it is i see it, i know i'm viewing them in a very negative light. extremely negative. so negative that i'm running away from them. it's like, i don't think they're even my problems so why should i do it? and you know what would be the best way to get rid of them? run away.

brilliant plan salma. top-notch. i'm sure you'll end up working in Mcdonalds like that. if you're lucky.

i have to start caring about these things. no, i choose to be caring about these things. these past few days, or at least this term, has been awful. i didn't care about anything. no care in the world 5alas, free. but slowly the world is catching up to me. it's already caught me in its masterful web multiple times. and still i have not learned a lesson.

from now on salma, start caring. these are YOUR responsibilities. stop acting spoiled. start being mature and independent. pray to Allah to give you strength.

tomorrow salma, i want you to do one thing. pray properly. don't get distracted. if you get distracted do it again. i think this is a huge problem with you right now. pray properly. really do it as if you're meeting Allah Himself  and then, once you've fully thanked the Almighty Lord, ask Him to give you power, energy and strength and willpower to accomplish your work. right now, i believe, your Iman is very low. start reading the quran. stop listening to music for a while. go and pray the sunnah. no these are not time wasters. you're much much MUCH better off taking time to do these things than to do other things. reserve 15 minutes for each sholat period. during that 15 minute period you are not allowed to do anything except pray to Allah, read Quran, sholat sunnah, anything islamic related. and do it as soon as the adzan starts.

Inshallah this will be beneficial. let's start focusing on your Iman first and raising it again. and InshaAllah, all the worldly matters such as school will follow.

understand?

very simple. spend 15 minutes for each sholat. ONLY 15 minutes. think about it, 15 minutes is not a long time at all.

all right, go to sleep now. have that intention to really really pray better. InshaAllah you will be rewarded.


Friday, December 7, 2012

fallen ardor

transient shadows of the outside world begin to dance under the dim lighting of the studio. dust particles from cracks here and there swirl in the chilly air, pirouetting to the faint chirps of the morning calm. the sun emerges; a hazy glow enters the studio through a window at the back, casting a rosy-pink spotlight on the wooden panels.

a few prances in front, soojung stands tall and proud, one leg protruding with a pointed toe, her delicate arms parallel to each other, extended a few inches from her body. she sees nothing of her perfect stature though – a pale, gaunt face, her pale and gaunt face completely haunts her line of vision. the hair on her bare skin stiffens.  sneering dark brown orbs jeer at every jut of her willowy arms, every tiny plethora of her svelte legs, the hints of white gauze peeking-

no, soojung shakes her head hurriedly. she drops her head down, breathes in small pockets of cold air in counts of 3s and tries to recreate the wall in her mind.

think of piano tunes, think of fast running keys,  think of mellow violin chords harmonizing with steady bass beats in allegretto

breathing steadily, she lifts her head up again. soft chocolate eyes greet her and suddenly her mind is clear, the wall reconstructed and tucked well away. the needles at the back of her neck disappear and she can hear something.

the music starts.





her first steps are jittery and rigid. the wooden panels squeak in response when the base of her flats fall with a thud as she lands from a poorly-executed jete. all she’s hearing are a mesh of chords, notes and beats playing together at the same time in a baffling cacophony. frustrated, she closes her eyes and envisions the counts playing in her head – one count, two counts, three counts –

Oh it's that

the cacophony fades. strings of melody flood her head and her feet immediately take control. soojung feels elated; it's been long since she felt the melody run through her veins, guiding her across the room in a series of twirls and turns. her thin skirt flutters with a light step here and two quicker strides there. she creates circular patterns with the swing of her arms, before resting them, locking her elbows in akimbo.

andante ends.





the music speeds up. her glides quicken faster than she can registerallegretto and her feet only touch the ground for a few seconds before they are leaping in the air again. she feels the familiar rush of cold air as she spins in a fouette en tournant, her messy chocolate bun billowing and slowly losing shape. soojung doesn't care though; she misses the cold air like she misses an old friend. her only friend.

the sun is higher up and the spotlight, now a dazzling shade of amber, shifts closer and closer to her. she leaps once more - and her body is awashed in its warm touches, her pale skin glittering as the light reflects off of it. finally, soojung thinks, acknowledgement.

it gives her power, this natural spotlight. she feels as if she can conquer the world and the heavens and everything in between.  confidently she lifts her heels up, balancing on her toes en pointe. there is a slight strain on her right foot, but soojung blatantly ignores it and gradually begins to raise her left leg higher and higher to 90 degrees, 120 degrees and finally-

an arabesque. i’m doing it

she gazes at her reflection. gracing her vision is no longer a broken girl but an exquisite ballerina, famous and dazzling, receiver of adorations and praises, her recitals laden with grand rose bouquets and standing ovations-




and suddenly everything blurs. meshed colours bombard her sight and she’s tumbling, tumbling, faster and faster, a searing pain somewhere below, overtaking every feeling she has. she drops on the panels in a limp, a messy heap of fabric and limbs, arms at awkward angles and sweat dropping furiously from her forehead.  she tries to get up but her mind is in a frenzy, her every thought in mindless agony. she thinks she hears a rapid succession of steps, but she’s not sure because she’s also hearing rambles and alarms and broken shards.

soojung fights for her consciousness but she’s slowly slipping slipping




the last thing she sees are tears , a broken figure and the spotlight, two glides forward in the harshest shade of gold she’s ever seen.

crimson breaths


the cold wind rustles against the thin tips of his white shirt. the horizon seizes all traces of orange and warmth in the sky, dragging them down to the depths and letting the colours in the sky swirl to an impending mess of inky blue. luhan breathes in the harsh air, letting its icy fingers overpower his entire being as the dim twilight casts a lethargic veil over his gaunt face.

luhan tries to ignore the mocking rays of the bustling world below. he tries to forget that contemptuous (and familiar) ring of laughter he sometimes hears straddled between the night sky and his memories. he tries to forget emotions and feelings, early coffee mornings and late night phone calls, messy breaths under blankets and warm whispers between spaces.

but still the colours come, bursting in vivid shades and exorbitant hues without borders or lines to control them. that reminiscent and yet, foreign symphony continues to ring in his ears, clinging to the distant tick tock of a clock tucked in the corner of his mind. and the feelings - no, no matter how hard he tries, they continue to suffocate him, drowning him in a bottomless sea and forcing gallons and gallons of misery down his throat and lungs.


is this what they call too much?


there is a moment of still silence before a sharp tip comes crashing against the pale flimsy barrier of luhan's skin. a strangled cry escapes from his lips but it dissolves into nothingness. a northerly gale howls at his ears, screaming throaty words in static that crumble with every drop of salty red beads. he shudders.

and a brand new feeling conquers him. he feels rejuvenated, reincarnated, reborn.

no longer does luhan walk on top of the glass shards of his memories. the bloodied cracks against his pale skin exhales and inhales with vigorous determination - as if blowing out the desperate and sickening remnants of his past life.

he lets those carvings shrivel, he lets them weep - because it’s the only way he can ever feel like breathing again.




a/n I'm deleting all fandom related things, but i'm going to keep this one and fallen ardor later on in this blog because they're my favourites

chocolate sticks melt under the sun

The post office is at least 5 blocks away, but somehow time sprints from the past and Jaeda finds herself under the old oak tree, squeezed between the shadows and the fading paint of an elderly bench. The wind blew a strong haunting gale and Jaeda's icy fingers curl tighter around a flimsy piece of paper. She could count on her fingers and toes places she would rather be in, places she should be in at 6PM on a dark freezing Sunday of the twenty-third - anywhere except the place she owes a thousand apologies to.

Jaeda would like to think she was young and immature five years ago. She was a whiner; austere and a little too close-minded, preferring to read under the cooling shade while eating chocolate covered sticks, than to run and sweat and laugh during fiery periods of the sun's majestic concession. And so, to this day it strikes her as odd, bordering insanity even, that a boy who belonged under the sun would lower himself to the depths to find her, a girl who befriends obscurity and solitude.


But he did. 


He claimed that he was just like her, that he too preferred the reclusive over the gregarious. At first, it seemed quite so. He used to sit by her, arms around her shoulders like a shield and transport her to the jungles of India or the great dynasties of China with his compelling and dynamic tales. When it rained, he used to show her funny videos or tell her crazy jokes, all within the warming touches of bitter hot cocoa. And when the rain clouds bid farewell and the sun returned from its absence, he used to take pictures of her by the brightest window because the glimmering kisses of the sun on your face illuminate the world between its two edges and I want to be the only one to have the privilege of owning it.


Jaeda knew however, that all that was a facade. His eyes would look distant and a little glassy every time he glanced at the window to see the other kids running around an oak tree and an elderly bench, while he was trapped in the cobwebs of the dark abyss with her. As the days passed, his cocoa became sweeter and his tales became mere circulated rumours and cliches. During that time, Jaeda felt an unmistakable burn on her arms, a white hot pain occupying the left side of her head (heart).


And so Jaeda made the mistake of taking his hand and letting him lift her up to stand (crumple) beneath the glowering rays. 


(the days were long. they were empty. and they were bright. the other kids refused to acknowledge a creature such as her, remaining defiant in their belief of a hypothetical and hypocritical social hierarchy where the sun is might and everything else is inferior. he was too blinded, too overjoyed from returning back to his origins, to notice the spiteful looks she received when she so much breathed. 


 the fabric of their relationship was being pulled apart mercilessly so that only a few strands were left hanging. 


she once thought of taking him back to the depths. but when she sneaked in to his bedroom at night, it was bathed in artificial light from all four corners and the most genuine curve of lips she's ever seen was plastered on his face. and right then she knew it would be the biggest sin of her life to rip apart that smile.  


she took a pair of scissors and cleanly snipped apart the last strands.



she fled away.)





the streetlamps finally turn on. Jaeda gets up and heads in the other direction, far away from regret and the safety of an apology letter submerged in fire.





a/n 632 words of crappy and not logical whatsoever but it's finally done after collecting dust since november so yay \o/. criticisms are welcome.

Friday, November 23, 2012

greetings

short prose of no particular coherency reside in this blog.



if you choose to venture in this wilderness, then I suggest you approach each obstacle with the lowest level of expectation.

please tread with caution, for this blog does not uphold an insurance policy.

thank you, and have a good day