when I ain't got you

There's just absolutely nothing to blog about.

be thou my vision

You know Jean, this picture looks like it was taken in a studio. Not extremely professional like, but the background practically covers all that. If we were to go to a studio and take a picture, we'll choose a better background, eh?

Oh, and I don't even look good here. Overly fair, I think that's the problem. I also look like I have two different hairstyles, short and long (like those people who just can't decide whether to cut long or short, so they have both. HAHA. They make me laugh so hard). Gosh, Jean. Why this picture? Don't we have nicer pictures together? And you're sitting there showing off your DSLR. You won't let me touch it either ):

Anyway. I was suppose to talk about her, not to her. I don't know the reason of me talking about her, but yeah.

Our parents knew each other longer than we know each other now. In fact, it was because of our parents that we're friends. Somehow, when I think back on it, I wonder why I've only known her for less than 10 years while our father's knew each other during high school days. We met at a funeral. Yeah, I know. Not one of the times you're actually suppose to make friends. But honestly, when we met, Jean Jean.She couldn't stop babbling. I didn't know anything she said that day. But she was amusing. ahaha.

And the next time we met, we were all grown up. We're pretty close, you can say that, even though we hardly see each other. But when we do, we'll talk about everything there is to talk about - school, upcoming projects, clothes, shopping, boys. I don't know about you, Jean, but I don't remember missing out any details of whatever happened every time we meet.

She got admitted into the hospital recently and I can't believe I only got to know about it when she was discharged. She had headaches and was constantly vomiting. I can't believe the doctors let her out of the hospital, just because they couldn't find any cause of the headaches. Jean did multiple scan, but ditto. EVERYONE should read about what happened to her during the MRI scan. Of course I felt sad for her, but gosh, you have to laugh after reading what she did and what she was thinking about.

After being discharged, Jean said her teacher told her that she was skinny but she didn't look fit. She wants to take dance classes with me now (: I found a school, Jean. But I don't know about you traveling all the way down just for an hour class. I think it's worth it but that's up to you (: Jean has size eight and a half feet. I happen to know that because she told me she'll fall while dancing with that size of feet. I told her I'm a size eight and another half wouldn't harm her a bit. Still, there's the fact about how skinny and how fat I am.

You know Jean, you ALWAYS make me laugh. You're amusing in a kind of way that you don't try to be. Which makes everything funnier. You're one awesome friend Jean. Though, I still mean what I said when I told you that I hated you because you are skinny.

Okay, there you go. Your turn to talk about me. AHAHA.

when you need someone to love you, here I am

Ashlyn cried. And she thought her friends would be around here, to help her out a little bit. But no. They're only there to push her into the mud pit she told herself she'll stay away from. It wasn't her time, and no one would understand that.

Instead of having a shoulder to cry on, she had a pillow, already drenched in her flowing tears.

Ashlyn knew that her friends pushing her into somewhere she did not want to be was not the only problem that was bugging her. Her friends were talking behind her back, who knew good or bad? It did not matter to Ashlyn good or bad, she just thought that everything were shared among them all. Wrong again, wrong all the time.

Instead of knowing everything about her friends, she knew nothing. One thing's for sure, her heart was broken and she didn't know how to get it back into one piece.

without you

Math is dumb dumb dumb. I HATE Math.

My stomach's all twisted up in knots, and I don't know why.
It's like I'm excited, but I'm not excited.
Maybe I'm scared, but what is there to be scared about?

our lives

To Those I Love and Those Who Love Me

When I'm gone, release me; let me go.
No, I never could.
I have so much things to see and do.
We could do it together, as a family, like the old times.
You must not tie yourself to me with tears;
But you're not here, what else could I do?
I gave you my love - I can only guess How much you gave me in happiness.
Your love and your presence. Your unconditionally supportive mind. I can't go just with your love. I did not give you love that satisfied you. It wasn't enough, there is more.
But now, it is time I traveled on alone.
You don't have to, we are here. Don't leave us and you'll never be alone.
So, grieve a while for me, if grieve you must,
Then let your grieve be comforted by trust.
It's not as easy, as it seems. Because grieving does not comfort the soul, it makes you know that you are no more here.
It is only for a while that we must part, So bless the memories with your heart.
A while is like centuries, that never end. You must be here, memories are not it. There's so much more we could do, and keep the memories alive as we go.
I won't be far away for life goes on;
So, if you need me, call, and I will come.
You're not here, I can't see you or listen to you. It's not the same at all.
Though you can't see or touch me I'll be near,
And if you listen with your heart, you'll hear
All of my love around you soft and dear.
I hear you all the time, but what is it that's telling me you're still not here? Take my hand, and take me softly. I want to know your presence, I want to be with you.
And then, when you must come this way alone, I'll greet you with a smile and wave,

"Welcome Home"
When this day come, it'll bring me joy. But from now henceforth, it's useless without you.

August 2006

You're one writer at heart too, daddy. I know that (: It then makes me feel proud to be a writer too. This meant so much, even if you did not write it. Everyone loves you, trust me. No one would read this without shedding a tear. You mean so much to people's hearts. You're a person who cared for others and not yourself. You're a heart surgeon, one that mends back hearts emotionally and spiritually. Everyone misses you, daddy. Not just me, not just the family. If only you were still here.

I can't take it back

I must admit, that when I go around reading people's blogs, I go to their link list and out of curiosity, pick the most interesting name I see. Or pick a name that I heard of, which technically doesn't mean I have to know the person personally.

And anyway, if you want so much privacy of your blog, don't call it a blog.

So, I stumbled upon Azam Malek's blog - I know him, but I don't know him personally. He was the editor for Sinar Jaya year 2008. Other than that, I've seen him around school (:

I clicked on his link and scroll through the blog. His blog takes time to upload, that['s one thing I get pissed off about. haha. Right on top, there's a picture of him and his late cousin, so he calls her - Kak Sara.

She looks absolutely bubbly and the kind of girl I would want to go crazy with. I was curious, about her and when I read what really happened, oh yeah, she's gotta be one awesome person.

I may not know her at all, but rest in peace, Maisara.

I've seen her very last words on her blog re-posted many times on other people's blog, people that are of course, touched by her life.

I'm not a delicate flower.
I'm superwoman !

I wouldn't think that I'm superwoman when I'm down, sick with something that is so close to death's door.

Everyone said she was a fighter. I believe that.

It is this kind of blogs that I would stumble upon and cry to myself.

Azam Malek's blog

we could pretend it all the time

I think Jack Johnson is the best acoustic singer ever. Better than Jason Mraz because Jason Mraz does not sing his songs fully acoustic, if you get what I mean.

His song 'Banana Pancakes' is absolutely addictive (:

crack the shutters

I'm not a big fan of perfume, or maybe not a fan at all. But I think I am in love with Mariah Carey's Luscious Pink (:

I tried it in Canada and it was awesome. I kept sniffing on it and I think I went a wee bit high, but it was all good.

I would ask for the perfume, but then if you think about it, why? I don't use it and the best that I could make out of it is decoration. Which is a pretty good idea, don't you think? ahaha.

All my paragraphs so far has started with 'I'. Shows how much I love myself, because I love myself a lot.

There's so much to talk about but honestly is unappropriated for this blog. heh. I can't believe it's Sunday. That means I have to go to school tomorrow. How sad is my life? Schooling 5 days a week and only left 2 days a week to spend time to do exciting things. Which, does not turn out to be so exciting since you're all exhausted from 5 days of school. I think we should only get 2 days of school, because what is life, then, if you're gonna stick your face in a Math textbook 24/7? I can add that exams, it just adds to the stress. Conclusion is, school is dumb and the government should consider making school days two days a week so that we kids can have a life.


Am I random or what?