No sign of the headphones.( Read more...Collapse )
No sign of the headphones.( Read more...Collapse )
How long must I endure this pain;
Before I'm finally free?
How much tears do I have to spill;
Before he fades from my memory completely?
How many choked sobs do I have to swallow;
Before I can finally breathe easy?
And how many full moons will it take;
Before I can finally accept that it was never meant to be?
Composed by: Cerra Azizi. February 22nd, 2016. Monday. 20:46 PM.
Kidding aside, a number of things have made me question the real meaning of friendship these days. I can’t help but wonder if I’m the only deluded romantic who still believes in true friendship that can withstand even the worst of storms and hurricanes. This feels so high school. I thought I left all this friendship drama back in high school, along with my fourth crush, painful memories and rebellious phase. Apparently, I couldn’t have been anymore wrong.
A friend once said that I’m too nice for my own good. Am I, really? I couldn’t believe there’s such thing as being “too nice for one’s own good”. What’s wrong with being nice? I treat people the way people treat me and usually ─thankfully─ most of these people have treated me nicely and I figured they deserve to be treated the same.
I can never gauge when I cross the line and be “too nice”. Usually, I’d find out when the other person starts avoiding me like the Ebola virus and refuses to have any form of communication with me. At all. And it frustrates me to no end when these people refuse to have any forms of communication with me and leave me hanging; wondering where I went wrong and left me to figure out the mistake I did. Huh.
This is all so very tiring. It feels like déjà vu on a loop. Sure, I might say, “I’m done being nice,” but when the sun peeks out beyond the horizon the next day, I would soon go back to my old self and force myself to shrug and swallow the reality that sometimes, certain people are like fleeting memories─ they never intended to stay.
But it hurts so much, dammit.
You don’t know what to do. You’re not sure whether to give up or to continue chasing. You did try to stop chasing. You know you did. Obviously, it didn’t work out too well for you and you’re back in the pursuit. The adrenaline rush, the acceleration of your heartbeat, the way your stomach turns, the way your heart soars; the mixture of emotions merged together into a set of feelings.
You know it’s pointless to run away but you attempted anyway. You ran and ran and ran and before you know it, you were running in circles. So you gave up and went back into the pursuit. You desperately try to break free from the shackles that are tightly binding around your heart but they won’t budge. Kicking, screaming, crying-- you tried to break free. Instead, the struggles haunt you at night and your waking hours. You got tired, so you decided to stop struggling.
You tried letting your soul flow along with the pursuit, hoping that the nightmares would eventually fade away into utter oblivion by themselves. Minutes turned into hours, hours turned into days, days eventually turned into 8 months and the feelings continued to burn brilliantly inside your heart.
You knew there was no way you could escape, but you tried anyway. You’ve completely exhausted all of your options. Your previous escape attempts failed wonderfully but you simply refuse to give up. You feel like you needed to escape; that the escape is essential to you. You needed to escape because you knew you wouldn’t stand a chance in the meaningless pursuit. The pursuit was starting to lose its meaning because you realised who you are. That was precisely the reason you needed to escape.
You wanted to escape before the heartbreaking moment comes. Because deep down, you knew that you wouldn’t be able to handle it when that moment finally comes. That’s why you needed to run. Away from the painful reality; away from the painful moment; away from your own selfish feelings. You needed to escape before you get hurt.
Time is ticking away but you’re still bound by your own selfish feelings. You feel lost. You feel tired. You feel hopeless. You wanted to escape yet again but you’re too tired to do so. You look up into the greying afternoon sky and heave an exasperated sigh. You know that deep down, your next escape plan would not be going according to your plan but you're itching to give it another shot anyway.
You don’t care. You’re too battered to give up. You’re too stubborn to give up. Whatever shred of hope you could find, you’d cling onto it desperately. It’s the only way. The only way to salvation.
Covered in wounds and scars, you try to stand up. Your knees quiver as you do so but you couldn’t care less. I have to get up, you whisper to yourself. Trembling, you eventually managed to stand on both of your feet. You face the dark shadow that looms ahead of you, baring its sinister grin.
The shadow of your helplessness.
You pick up your battered sword and make a dash towards the shadow. You know you’d only get hurt again but you don’t care. That tiny shred of hope is more than enough to guide you through the battle. You wonder why you simply refuse to give up even after getting hurt over and over again; until you reached to that one realisation:
Because you’re relentless.
She stared at the blinking cursor on the blank word processor. She was about to begin her work when her phone buzzed.
She swiped her index finger across the matte-covered screen on her phone and grinned when she saw the influx of birthday messages from her friends. She felt happy. Happy that they remembered her birthday without the aid of Facebook notification. She felt special. The messages she received managed to distract her from her increasing workload and she was grateful for it.
She leaned back in her office swivel chair as she scrolled through the messages on her phone. After responding to all of them, she hooked her phone to the charger and continued to stare at the blinking cursor.
She began to ponder. 24 years. 24 chapters have passed. There were plenty of things to ponder about. There were plenty of things for her to be grateful about. Her lips curled into a secretive smile as she reminisced some of the significant moments that took place in all her 24 years of living.
That time when she spent her recess time all by herself when she was 12 because she was friendless. That time when she first started to pick up her reading hobby. That time when she placed third for a spelling bee contest. That time when she decided that English was her strength and that she was going to polish it as much as she could. That time when she decided to take up English for her college major. That time when she successfully graduated with a first-class honours degree 4 years after she made her decision. That time when she first applied for the training programme with a renowned translation company. That time when her training was about to end and she was practically at her breaking point; thinking that she had no chance of staying at the place and would need to start all over again at a new company. That time when it was made known that she was successfully shortlisted as one of the candidates to be taken in as permanent staff. That time when she first began her job as an executive at the same company she did her training at; doing the job she dreamt of doing when she was still in college.
Plenty of things and events had taken place throughout her 24th chapter; some good ones, some bad ones. But mostly? They were positive ones. She couldn't have survived every one of them if she didn't have faith in God, nor without supportive people around her. She pondered further and began to realise how blessed she had been all this while.
She leaned in towards her monitor and began tapping rapidly on her keyboard. Instead of doing the task she was given, she typed "24 Things I'm Grateful About This Year" into the word processor.
She paused as she tried to organise her jumbled thoughts into a proper structure before she pen them down. She shut her eyes and inhaled deeply, before she tapped furiously on her keyboard.
"1. The fact that I have people in my life who still remember my birthday even without the help of Facebook notification and how these same people have never failed to wish me every single year."
She paused and pursed her lips. Not a very strong point to begin with but she thought she'd write it down anyway. At least there was something for her to start with.
She then continued to list down the things she was grateful for, with her lips slowly curling into a smile as she typed swiftly, hoping that nobody would catch what she was typing.
She was on a roll.
She continued to stare into the mirror; both amazed and disgusted by how her face looked without layers of compact powder that she usually applies whenever she goes out. She wondered how she even survived her life going through with such appearance.
Don’t even get her started on her cellulite-infused thighs, arms and tummy.
It’s not like she had not tried every single method known to man on getting rid of the parasites living on her face; she has completely exhausted every single option and was left to but one brand she could trust.
Even then, it took her years to finally get rid of even bigger pimples that plagued throughout her school life.
She heaved yet another exasperated sigh as she continued to examine her acne-ridden face in the mirror from every possible angle. All those years of polishing clean the plates of nasi goreng USA and chicken chop took a toll on her face and her body. If only she wasn’t so addicted to food. Countless times had she blamed herself for not exercising self-control when it comes to food but obviously, by the swarm of whiteheads on her chin, her countless warnings to herself go unheeded.
She tossed the mirror on her bed and buried her head in her hands. A storm of conflicts brewed inside of her and she felt helpless. It was perfectly obvious to her that there was no way the guy she has feelings for would ever like her back; especially because she looked like a cast from Sunway Lagoon’s horror house.
Except she didn’t need all the special effects make-up to look like she belonged there. She would blend right in with that raw face of hers.
She felt tormented. Her thoughts had been haunting her sleep; sometimes to the point of being so deafening, they kept her awake most of the nights. She hated the way her mind continued to play the deafening thoughts like a broken record. She wanted them to stop. Desperately.
The ugly thoughts had been playing on a loop and she had no way of stopping it. She wanted to be pretty. She wanted to be thin. Why? So that at least she could feel like she deserves to like the guy she has feelings for. As it currently stands, she had been condemning herself for liking a guy who happened to be so much better looking than she deserved to have feelings for. In fact, she condemned herself for helplessly falling for someone she was confident that she would never get. Her past self had more pride than her current self and it made her so frustrated because she felt like she had betrayed the self she worked so hard to build.
The kind of self that would not pay attention to stuff like “having special feelings for a certain guy” or “preparing oneself before getting married”. Deep down, she somewhat hated the kind of helpless self she had turned into. She did not know when or how did she turn out to be the person she is now.
She lifted her face and tears began to silently stream down her pore-ridden cheeks. The silent tears then developed into choked sobs. Soon, she was wailing into her Rilakkuma pillow. She desperately wanted to run away from the feelings that had been shackling her for as long as she could remember. The feelings seemed to taunt her of a love that will never be reciprocated; of someone she could only dream of having.
And she wanted them to stop. She decided it was high time for the thoughts to stop haunting her waking hours and even keep her awake at night.
If only she knew how.
( Read more...Collapse )
The news shocked me so much that it rendered me speechless. I knew how much Aunty Zakiah's existence meant to my mum. She was a close friend of hers. A long-time friend, even. Both of them went to the same university, studied the same course and it was long after that they found out that both of them even applied jobs at the same company. Both of them got it and were even placed at the same department at one point. They looked after each other throughout their years at the department and stuck by each other through thick and thin.
It was no surprise that the news reduced both of us to torrential tears.
( Remember that you will dieCollapse )
Tatkala kau jatuh terduduk,
Dan tidak mampu untuk bangkit semula,
Bahawa Dia sentiasa ada untuk membantumu.
Wahai sang srikandi,
Tatkala kau rasa ingin menyerah kalah,
Kerana rasa tidak lagi mampu untuk bertempur,
Kau boleh memohon kekuatan daripada-Nya.
Wahai sang srikandi,
Tatkala kau ingin meletakkan senjata,
Dan mengibarkan bendera putih,
Ada orang di sekelilingmu,
Yang memberi sokongan kepadamu,
Dan tidak ingin melihat kau menyerah kalah.
Kau bukan dan tidak pernah keseorangan.
Wahai sang srikandi,
Tatkala kau mengalirkan air mata,
Kerana kau rasakan betapa peritnya pertempuran ini,
Akan tiba satu masa,
Kau rasa jua betapa manisnya kemenangan itu,
Buat orang yang bersabar.
Wahai sang srikandi,
Kesatlah air matamu,
Angkatlah semula senjatamu,
Bangkitlah semula dari kesedihanmu,
Kerana pertempuran ini masih belum berakhir.
Usahlah kau lupa,
Kemenangan dan ketenangan akan kau kecapi jua,
Sekiranya kau terus bertempur,
Dan terus tabah,
Kerana janji-Nya itu pasti.
Wahai sang srikandi,
Usahlah sesekali kau menyerah kalah,
Sehingga kau menghembuskan nafasmu
Buat kali terakhir di bumi ini.
Composed by: Cerra Azizi. 15 Julai 2014. Selasa. 5:18 PM.