The Dirt

Time and time again, it happens. Then I tell myself that it probably won't happen again. And after a long time, it happens. And I get sick in the stomach.

Words - they comfort and hurt. Others have been hurt by words deemed sarcastic and hurtful, be it in an angry exchange or as a joke. I've also been hurt one too many times by the words of others that I vow never to hurt others with words. It gets rarer to be hurt by words as one gets older. Older people tend to watch their words more, having learnt from past mistakes. Friends get older too, and they tend to fool around with your feelings. And with friends whom you grow old with, they've become like brothers somewhat and you kinda surrender and just accept whatever comes your way.

I'm older now. I carefully arrange my words these days. When these carefully arranged words still get misinterpreted as, say, sarcasm, and when I get shot back with sharp words that hurt, I get sick in the stomach. Maybe I should really just stay within the four blue walls of my room and shut myself out.

"Speak good, or remain silent," may not be enough. Perhaps I should learn how to "Speak only when asked", to further minimize the chance creating misunderstandings. I rather friendships fall apart because of long period of silence than for it to be strained because of silly few exchanges of words.

Time and time again it happens. People just love to burst my comfortable bubble. They like to remind me that in life, you can try all you want to be nice but people will still do as they please. You'll still be stamped on, trampled on and hurt. So why bother be nice? Be normal. But I cant.

I guess that, is a flaw. Sigh. I guess I should tell myself that I'm like earth. People can choose to step on me and treat me as dirt, or use me to help trees grow. Or as backfill for some earth-retaining wall. (:

Dirt I will be. Be good, and pray the wind takes me some place good.

Frustrated

... because I've yet to watch HP 7.2. I've watched 7.1 and would like to wrap the whole Harry Potter saga up!

... because I'm left with 10 episodes of a Korean drama and the streams are starting to give me problems. And the laptop is starting to lag. Stupid spywares.

Facebook

"What's on your mind?"

I've always thought that it'll be cool to be able to read people's mind. To guess. To infer. To observe and attempt to piece clues or non-clues that seems, or made to seem like clues, together. Perhaps it was the influence of shows like PrisonBreak, Lie to Me, Numb3rs, The Mentalist, Criminal Minds and The Listener. It's entertaining - this thinking business.

However, years on, mind reading abilities are no longer required. People's mind can be read as soon as one logs into Facebook. Endless walls of thoughts - it kills my mind - reading the things that are on people's mind. Some thoughts should really stay as thoughts. Rants, frustrations and wishing that you and your ex were still together - thoughts such as these should be bottled up and kept locked up in a chest deeep within your chest.

Yeah, I know. Here I am scribbling my own thoughts and rants and feelings about other people's thoughts and rants and feelings. But here, I'm seeking the attention of few. Heck I might even be talking to myself without me, or you knowing. So it's different.

My point: I hate Facebook's Newsfeed. Minds arent meant to be read. Today, I change my favourite SuperHero ability from telekinesis to teleportation - unless I can control the thoughts I want to hear. Hmm.

The Road Ahead ...

Week 8 of Industrial Orientation:

How time flies. I've the opportunity to see how the things that I've learnt in school is being applied at the workplace. And the paths that I can choose to take when I graduate next year, insyaallah. Life as an engineer isn't easy especially for someone with poor engineering fundamentals. I'm not sure if one more year of catch up can adequately prepare me for the working world. This Industrial Orientation has connected me with an individual who is willing to guide and assist me in my journey in the Civil Engineering industry. The future looks bright for those in this field - but the road towards that future will be tough, for me. It requires a lot of effort on my part. I hope I have it in me to see that "happily-ever-after ending" that I've been working towards.

Ah, yes.

Shall try string some words into a little story about the other twin.

The loss of a handphone isn't necessarily a bad thing. Life would've been very very different had I not left that ruby red phone in the public toilet. You know, I've been typing and backspacing for a quite a while now. Perhaps it's coz words will not do the story justice. Or because some things are just better left unwritten. Haha.

So there you go!

And then there's this other twin ...

... who turns a year older. I'd usually string some nice words together but tonight, like the past 2 nights, I'm feeling very sleepy.

Twins

The twins are almost as tall as me. I thought they'd be turning 17 this December but to my surprise, they'll be 18. The horror. I was 18... like only a couple of years (or so) back. Sigh.

I remember them as the little kids I used to love, the kids whom I used to hug and kiss and say "I love you" anytime I want to every single day, only to be pushed away as soon as they were in the middle of secondary school. Space - I remember wanting my own space too when I was around that age.

I remember how they always talk to one another into the night when they were younger, when we used to share the same bedroom. Funny how up till today, they still talk to one another into the night about school, friends, soccer, anything. They sleep in the living room now. Space - I remember how space wasn't an issue when we were younger.

I remember being there at the hospital when the twins were born. Me and my sister chose one of two to look after. I remember me and my sister standing on one end with the room with the twins on the other end. We'd open our arms wide and see who the twins will run towards and hug.

A few days ago, Mama mentioned that the twins mentioned about pursuing higher education in Marine Engineering at an institute of higher learning in Netherlands. I do not remember them having dreams of pursuing higher education. I remember having hinted/psycho-ed them to work towards a degree but never have they responded positively. Work hard, I told them. I will support.

It strikes me as odd though, that like me, they're not really into the whole boy-girl relationship thingy. Which is a good thing coz Girls = Trouble (well generally it's true).

Tonight's post dedicated to them coz today's the first time in a long time that we went to school/work together. A short 5 minute walks to the train station can evoke many beautiful memories.(:

I have a habit of ...

... writing, editing and deleting whatever Ive written when it's time to press the "Publish Post" button or the "Create Post" button or the "Ask" button or the "Enter" button. Cause before sharing whatever I have in mind, I'll think about the posts' objectives and possible repercussions. This is an extension of who I am in person. Funny, coz I used to think that in the online world, I can be someone a little different.

I am ...

... legend.

It's been close to 5 years since I last walked to my Quranic class with my brothers. Few remained. One said the legend is back. I was brought back to the time when I used to be one of the few who've read the most number of pages. The rare few who could answer the Ustaz whenever he asks questions relating to Tajwid. Six years on, I could still answer most of them. On the other hand, my brothers and the others whacked whatever answers they could think of. I smiled. Some things never changed. A legend I am, I thought to myself. Alhamdulillah, I could still remember the things I've learnt back then.

Sometimes I wish I could say the same about the things I've learnt in Civil Engineering. Perhaps one day. Perhaps not. But until then, I will keep striving - for both.

I feel stupid ...

.. when I think about the things I think about. It confuses, frustrates and annoys me sometimes when the brain takes a trip down Reason Boulevard.

Q: Why do I think alot?
A: Because for someone like me, thinking is like talking to a friend. However, in this case, you're talking to yourself, quietly, in your mind. All because you prefer to be by yourself than with someone else.

Q: Why do you prefer to be with yourself?
A: I don't know. Genetics?

Q: It's easy to blame it on Genetics. What if it's not a genome thing?
A: I don't know. Perhaps it's written. Fate. Destined.

Q: Can you stop thinking - too much?
A: I can try. But when I do get all spontaneous, I make mistakes. I make a fool of myself. That, I do not want.

Q: Are you a Perfectionist?
A: I'm not. But I try to be as perfect as I can knowing all my imperfections.

Q: Why do you want to be "perfect"?
A: I don't know. Shouldn't we all strive to achieve perfection?

I feel sad ...

... when I forget to bring the lunch that Mama packed for me to work - knowing that she wakes up extra early just to prepare breakfast and lunch for us children.

I feel happy ..

... when I buy food home and my brothers stop whatever they were doing, look at what I buy and immediately consume it. I'm reminded of when Dad was around. The rare occasion when he returns home from work with a packet of Mee Goreng or two - my favourite- and I think he knows.

Subtly, I'm becoming more like him - the old-fashioned family man.

I get annoyed ...

.... when Mama washes my pillows despite me telling her NOT to. She's the last person in the world I want to get annoyed at, but she leaves me no choice. So I told her in a serious-angry-annoyed-joking tone, "Ma, I've told you countless times and I'm reminding you again: Do NOT wash my pillows. EVER."

She laughed. I can't not be annoyed.