A Step at A Time

Dear Silence,

Small steps at a time. You'll get there eventually.

Sometimes we overdo ourselves. We demanded so much from ourselves and we forgot one can do so much. We wanted results, fast. We wanted thinks to happen quickly. It doesn't really work that way, does it?

It take nine odd months for a baby to grow in a mother's womb.
It take decades for water to form a coves or waterfall into what they are today.
Good things, or rather 'reward' takes time...

I was reminded again by a friend that fishing eats up a whole lot of your time, but the reward are just sublime. Not just the catch but the feeling, the excitement, the satisfaction.. the experience. No one who loves to go fishing goes fishing because they're hungry for fish (I'm referring to the hobbyist), but for the experience, the anticipated satisfaction, the pre-conceive happy feelings. A friend says that he does not even eat certain fishes, but still enjoy whenever he caught the fishes.

Anyway regardless.
Reward takes time. Inna ma'al usri yusra..
I'll try telling myself this everyday.
We'll get there someday, mate. We will.

Alone and Easy Target

Dear Silence,

Having opinion can be deadly. I had to learn it the hard way.

Apparently, if you have an opinion, best keep it to yourself. Showing it? An even worse idea. People might get the wrong idea.

My advise is that, Silence, if you have an opinion, shut up. Having opinion can be very wrong. Don't say it.
Reveal it, you must... but to those who might understand.

As for me, no one around me understand. Friends? Are subjects that I have missed recently. Acquaintance, none. Family, nil. I don't have anyone that I can share my problem with. People around me are many, but no one wants to understand me. The people around me chose not to understand me. So, I have no one. I can't share it to just anyone. My opinion is always a joke to them.

For I have no one.
Seems like there's a million people around me.
Visually. Reality, I have none.
For I have no one.

I am alone..
Alone and easy target.

Perfect... not

Dear Silence ,

I never liked the band Simple Plan. And so goes to all the bands alike, namely Good Charlotte, All American Rejects and recently entering my list, Green Day (from dookie until nimrod, they were okay, but after that, they've failed to sustain as rockers and became simply a sour unpleasant pop band that plays loud music, giving us the 'illusion' of what rock is ought to be)...

Alas, last night after a long time, I've heard the song "Perfect" again. Before, my whole internal organ would cringe to the sound of its intro riffs, but last night I felt the disappointment. Me, the song, we connected.

I might say here, Silence, that this is all related to the blame thrown at me recently.

In respect to the recent development, pity ol' me has been subjected and rejected.

Subjected in regards to conditions and the ill-being of the 'premise'. Blamed for the horror it has caused, horror to the pocket and to the eyes of people looking, rather their eyes, not so much of mine.

Rejected for my effort of trying to restore it to a decent position, thus I lost my disposition. None of my idea is worth an idea to save the sinking ship.

Blamed and thrown to the flame.
Demise and dismissed.

For that, Silence, I shall now retreat. Never will I have any more responsibility. Just a cry I wish to share, as I am no more but a human. Hear this, the 'premise' has taken a lot from me. I have shed blood, sweat and tears for the 'premise'. I've battled it out. I tried my best. Unfortunately, to some people my effort is just not enough. To them I have not done anything...

I'm sorry I can't be perfect....

New Chapter

Dear silence, It has been a while..

Yes, true. It has.. but as we crawled amongst the thorns and twigs, mud and mess of what we called everyday life, busyness towards nothingness- which can be productive at times, but hey, who's keeping track- we looked back to the things that make us happy sometimes... Quilling, for instance. Oh how I missed those days. I missed writing my heart out. I missed saying things freely, writing whatever my hand (yes hand, when I write, my head and heart merged into a liquefied flesh and blood and oozed towards my hand) desire! I missed it, oh how I missed it.

As it is the first week of the year, Hijra year I mean, it is always a good practice to recap. What have we done and what we are ought to do.. and so we shall, recap.

I made it into the academic line. Yes.
I have always loved to be in front of the crowd. I loved the attention. I loved to be under the spotlight. Love it. Although, subconsciously it is really my insecurity is breaking free. It is not really the need of hearing my own voice, or rather the drive of knowing other is listening to you in a drill sergeant meaning of it . But the satisfaction of knowing (not always though, thus classifying this as an 'illusion of knowing') that people is finally listening to you. Yes. All my life I noticed that no one really listened to me as much as I want them to, or rather I care for them to.. I'm delivering now, Silence. I am doing it, and there are listeners. That is, by far, enough for pity ol' me. Those who weren't listening then, nevermind, looks like they never will, for now.

I need to do research. As a gateway to my book, the one I've been talking about since 2002. But before that, research papers is absolutely prominent. Though the progress is a little bit slow, I will do it.

Our ship is coming in, Silence.
Yes, our first step into business. Our baby.. InsyaAllah.. Pray for our success, Silence as you too will have your share. Please pray for us.

That's all for now, a lot more to come.

The Quiller is back in town, Silence.

I was being bullied for wearing blue that day, and I was asked to leave. Maybe because the other was wearing red on the playground that day. But everyone was playing the same game and no one got hurt. In fact, the big boy in a red shirt and a red cap, I think his name was Richie, he was playing rougher than anyone in the park that day, no one asked him to leave. Timmy, the gangly boy from Art was kicking a sand castle Jodie built in the box, but no one told him to leave. Jodie had to leave instead, because she wore that blue ribbon on her hair. By the way, who declared a Red Day that day? I thought that it was a free playground and everyone gets to wear what they want!

Someone must be out of their mind when they say that Malaysia is coming nearer to anarchism. Yes, I have people tell me that. I say, you're out of your mind.

Well, just because of some exaggerated fact by the media, suddenly practicing your civil rights becomes illegal. Expressing your thoughts become highly hazardous. And thinking your thoughts out loud is prohibited.

We are expected to stand still, and let the top guns do whatever they want to do with our money.
We are expected to be silence, while some people gets the privilege of reaping fruits of our labor.
We are expected to swear loyalty, when the people we are loyal to stab us in the back with the very same dagger we raise and swore with.
We are expected to submit reliance, to the people who had no intention what so ever react to that reliance if it is of no importance but to themselves.

To me, this is nothing but a discrimination of an exclusive kind. I'm being discriminated in my own country. Just because I'm not one of them, I'm uncleaned. I'm dirt. For that I'm bullied. For that I'm being discriminated...

I was asked to leave the playground just because I wore blue that day.