Eid Mubarak! <3
My favourite line from today was Tok Mail asking me what I was doing now, and I said, "Oh, I decided to do a Master's course..." And he was like, "Oh... bagus, bagus. Take your time. First Degree, then Masters, and then, Mister!" HAHA. Because I was totally expecting him to say Ph. D or something, I was like, "Eh?" and then I burst out laughing.
Nekmah also, when it was the hugging and the saying goodbyes part, she was like, "Nekmah doakan dapat boypren yang beriman eh... Tak lawa takpe, iman dulu." Haha, aduuuhhh. It's not fair how the boys don't get this type of pressure. I just hope that at the end of the day, I don't get mixed up about trying to please others and pleasing myself and pleasing God.
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Sunday, August 28, 2011
O Allah! Fill my heart with light, and my grave with light; place light in front of me, and light behind me; place light on my right and light on my left; place light above me and light below me; place light in my ears and light in my eyes, and light in my hair and my skin and my flesh and my blood and my bones. O Allah, increase my light, give me such light that it is worth all of what I have said and a light that will encompass everything I could not say.
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
AKIRA! I miss you so.
Yes, maybe it is the lack of calcium, haha.
Home alone and procrastinating.... Nooooooooo.
I love Jdramas. They're so... thematic. Maybe that's it. Like they're always built on a nice, heartwarming moral or concept, and then they manage to layer that so prettily with relatable characters and the crazy Jap brand of crack. Some Jdramas make me feel warm and fuzzy inside.
I am also suddenly digging up Perfume songs on youtube. O.O I wonder at the brainless nature of this pursuit and why I'm doing it at all. Maybe it's the mind-blanking nature of it that is so therapeutic.
Verily, I am fasting. Then cannot meleleh like this, right! We should not meleleh at all, but !!! especially now.
Saturday, August 20, 2011
Friday, August 12, 2011
I am in one of those nostalgic moods and reading some old stuff; like this poem that I saved from Jiawen's old LJ layout. <3
It's the heart, afraid of breaking,
That never learns to dance.
It's the dream, afraid of waking,
That never takes a chance.
It's the one who won't be taken,
Who cannot seem to give.
And the soul, afraid of dyin',
That never learns to live.
I think that as I grow older, I realise more and more how strange life is. I don't have the energy right now to tease apart the reasons why I think so, but I really think it is strange. Hmmm. How, for instance, our younger versions agonize over things that wouldn't matter 10 years down the road, say. We so often get stuck in moments in time and forget to look at the big picture, and if we would only just step back a bit more... I think that if I live to 90 (like my awesome granny!) and my brain can still function lucidly, I'd probably reflect back on the younger versions of myself and laugh and laugh. But I also hope that I'd feel proud of my younger self; that with what little knowledge I had, I tried my best. And I hope the climb up doesn't stop.
I'm reminded of something I read about the concept of happiness. There's the happy you feel in the moment; the kind where you're having an enjoyable time with friends and family or watching a wonderful movie or being tickled by a friend's joke. Then there's the other kind of necessary happy; the kind where you look back on your life and you love yourself. I think it's probably related to Aristotle's concept of happiness; which is virtue and excellence. That you've lived your life by some sort of system. The Islamic concept too, of course. Which is that happiness is success in the afterlife; that yes, you can feel happy in this world, but you don't attain happiness until it's all over. It's an intriguing distinction.
It's the heart, afraid of breaking,
That never learns to dance.
It's the dream, afraid of waking,
That never takes a chance.
It's the one who won't be taken,
Who cannot seem to give.
And the soul, afraid of dyin',
That never learns to live.
I think that as I grow older, I realise more and more how strange life is. I don't have the energy right now to tease apart the reasons why I think so, but I really think it is strange. Hmmm. How, for instance, our younger versions agonize over things that wouldn't matter 10 years down the road, say. We so often get stuck in moments in time and forget to look at the big picture, and if we would only just step back a bit more... I think that if I live to 90 (like my awesome granny!) and my brain can still function lucidly, I'd probably reflect back on the younger versions of myself and laugh and laugh. But I also hope that I'd feel proud of my younger self; that with what little knowledge I had, I tried my best. And I hope the climb up doesn't stop.
I'm reminded of something I read about the concept of happiness. There's the happy you feel in the moment; the kind where you're having an enjoyable time with friends and family or watching a wonderful movie or being tickled by a friend's joke. Then there's the other kind of necessary happy; the kind where you look back on your life and you love yourself. I think it's probably related to Aristotle's concept of happiness; which is virtue and excellence. That you've lived your life by some sort of system. The Islamic concept too, of course. Which is that happiness is success in the afterlife; that yes, you can feel happy in this world, but you don't attain happiness until it's all over. It's an intriguing distinction.
Monday, August 08, 2011
Coming down with a horrible cold. Kenit sister passed on her overseas germs to me. :( Cubaan.
I have to do a sharing thing this coming week at APEX. :s I don't want to become a kancheong little spider, but I am already fretting.
Shaykh Abdal Hakim Murad on Gluttony, Fasting and Eating Less.
I try to be rational, but I don't know if it's working.
---
Ehehhh, this piece is cute and all too true for me:
Why do twentysomethings always feel so old?
I think the reason why twentysomethings are so fixated on age is because we feel a pressure to be a certain way at 23, at 25, at 29. There are all of these invisible deadlines with our careers and with love and drinking and drugs. I can’t do coke at 25. I need to be in a LTR at 27. I can’t vomit from drinking at 26. I just can’t! We feel so much guilt for essentially acting our age and making mistakes. We’re obsessed with this idea of being domesticated and having our shit together. It’s kind of sad actually because I don’t think we ever fully get a chance to enjoy our youth. We’re so concerned about doing things “the right way” that we lose any sense of pleasure in doing things the wrong way. Youth may be truly wasted on the young.
For instance, the fact that I've been at APEX for 4 years makes me feel so freaking ancient. (And was the excuse to sabo me for tazkirah sessions -- "You've been here 4 years you know!" haiyoh.) And new mentors seem to get younger and younger. Everytime I chat up a new member and we're like, "Oh, what are you doing now?" or "Where are you studying now?", and GOD, they are so kenit, and I brace myself when I have to explain that my goodness, I technically already have a degree. And I have said, "I am far, far older than you..." to more than a couple of juniors.
Except that... not really right! I'm not that much older. It's just this skewed perception. Maybe.
Age is relative. The definition of "old" is always just a year away from where you are now. The definition of "young" is the falsely remembered ability to do things you can't/don't want to do any more.
I have to do a sharing thing this coming week at APEX. :s I don't want to become a kancheong little spider, but I am already fretting.
Shaykh Abdal Hakim Murad on Gluttony, Fasting and Eating Less.
I try to be rational, but I don't know if it's working.
---
Ehehhh, this piece is cute and all too true for me:
Why do twentysomethings always feel so old?
I think the reason why twentysomethings are so fixated on age is because we feel a pressure to be a certain way at 23, at 25, at 29. There are all of these invisible deadlines with our careers and with love and drinking and drugs. I can’t do coke at 25. I need to be in a LTR at 27. I can’t vomit from drinking at 26. I just can’t! We feel so much guilt for essentially acting our age and making mistakes. We’re obsessed with this idea of being domesticated and having our shit together. It’s kind of sad actually because I don’t think we ever fully get a chance to enjoy our youth. We’re so concerned about doing things “the right way” that we lose any sense of pleasure in doing things the wrong way. Youth may be truly wasted on the young.
For instance, the fact that I've been at APEX for 4 years makes me feel so freaking ancient. (And was the excuse to sabo me for tazkirah sessions -- "You've been here 4 years you know!" haiyoh.) And new mentors seem to get younger and younger. Everytime I chat up a new member and we're like, "Oh, what are you doing now?" or "Where are you studying now?", and GOD, they are so kenit, and I brace myself when I have to explain that my goodness, I technically already have a degree. And I have said, "I am far, far older than you..." to more than a couple of juniors.
Except that... not really right! I'm not that much older. It's just this skewed perception. Maybe.
Age is relative. The definition of "old" is always just a year away from where you are now. The definition of "young" is the falsely remembered ability to do things you can't/don't want to do any more.
Wednesday, August 03, 2011
Ramadhan Mubarak! (:
I meant to put this up earlier of course, but non-cyber life had me busy. Ramadhan already here, and I've been trying to keep up my energy level.
My kenit sister who came back from one of those helping-other-people-overesas-ventures is being emo because she is apparently just learning about the world, and how fortunate she is, and we are as a family. And being the wise big sister I am, I say, Only now you know ah. -.- Haha. But seriously. You don't realise these things until you see things and feel things and finally perceive the miraculous circumstance of your blessed situation. I say, just say, Alhamdulillah and help who you can.
Sunday, July 24, 2011
I think that, like Will Scott, I admire consistency.
---
"Why did you decide to join me?"
"Why...?" repeated Redhead, needing time to think.
"Word of three letters," said Lymond. "Come along, for God's sake: no need to let me have it all my own way. What was it? Rape, incest, theft, treason, arson, wetting the bed at night..."
"...Or burning my mother alive," said the other sarcastically.
"Oh, be original at least." The Master was undisturbed. "Why are you here?"
Silence. Then the boy said slowly, "Because I admire you."
An appreciative titter ran round the audience. "You shock me," said Lymond. "Explain, please."
"All right," said the boy. "You've chosen a life of vice, and have been consistent and reliable and thorough and successful in carrying it out."
Lymond considered this with every appearance of seriousness. "I see. Thus the baseness of my morals is redeemed by the stature of my manners? You admire consistency?"
"Yes, I do."
"But prefer consistency in evil to consistency in good?"
"The choice is hypothetical."
"Lord; is it? What an exciting past you must have."
"I despise mediocrity," stated the young man firmly.
"And you would also despise me if I practised evil but professed purity?"
"Yes. I should."
"I see. What you are really saying, of course, is that you dislike hypocrisy, and people who can't stand by their principles. I find it so helpful," continued Lymond, "when some of my gentlemen have well-defined codes of conduct. It makes them more predictable."
---
"Why did you decide to join me?"
"Why...?" repeated Redhead, needing time to think.
"Word of three letters," said Lymond. "Come along, for God's sake: no need to let me have it all my own way. What was it? Rape, incest, theft, treason, arson, wetting the bed at night..."
"...Or burning my mother alive," said the other sarcastically.
"Oh, be original at least." The Master was undisturbed. "Why are you here?"
Silence. Then the boy said slowly, "Because I admire you."
An appreciative titter ran round the audience. "You shock me," said Lymond. "Explain, please."
"All right," said the boy. "You've chosen a life of vice, and have been consistent and reliable and thorough and successful in carrying it out."
Lymond considered this with every appearance of seriousness. "I see. Thus the baseness of my morals is redeemed by the stature of my manners? You admire consistency?"
"Yes, I do."
"But prefer consistency in evil to consistency in good?"
"The choice is hypothetical."
"Lord; is it? What an exciting past you must have."
"I despise mediocrity," stated the young man firmly.
"And you would also despise me if I practised evil but professed purity?"
"Yes. I should."
"I see. What you are really saying, of course, is that you dislike hypocrisy, and people who can't stand by their principles. I find it so helpful," continued Lymond, "when some of my gentlemen have well-defined codes of conduct. It makes them more predictable."
Friday, July 22, 2011
Monday, July 18, 2011
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Friday, July 15, 2011
Suddenly thought of this line while on the way home:
Don't beat about the bush; just beat the bush! Teach it a lesson.
(from DT, which might have taken it from elsewhere)
Partly because this morning in PBL class, we were circling around a single question for nearly an hour, and discussed the topic to death. -.- I think I am a very tolerant person, and I think I successfully present a calm facade to the world, so that most times, people have no idea I'm about to like, scream or something. Haha. Not that this morning was that bad (we've had worse the previous semester). But I felt like I wanted to stomp my feet or make an irritated sound.
I think this is where we learn to be patient with group and people dynamics. And accept that different people think differently, and you're going to get ramblers, chop-chop-pers (i.e. people who are on-the-ball), and in-your-face-rs etc etc in the world.
Don't beat about the bush; just beat the bush! Teach it a lesson.
(from DT, which might have taken it from elsewhere)
Partly because this morning in PBL class, we were circling around a single question for nearly an hour, and discussed the topic to death. -.- I think I am a very tolerant person, and I think I successfully present a calm facade to the world, so that most times, people have no idea I'm about to like, scream or something. Haha. Not that this morning was that bad (we've had worse the previous semester). But I felt like I wanted to stomp my feet or make an irritated sound.
I think this is where we learn to be patient with group and people dynamics. And accept that different people think differently, and you're going to get ramblers, chop-chop-pers (i.e. people who are on-the-ball), and in-your-face-rs etc etc in the world.
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
I feel like this now, because stressful times tend to converge together:
Edvard Munch's The Scream
There are apparently three kinds of people in the world: dabblers, hackers and masters. The first merely dabbles in everything but realising that the acquiring of any worthy skill is hard, gives up and never achieves any level of competence in anything i.e. Jack of all trades. Hackers are a bit better in the sense that they pursue a skill to some level of proficiency but then stagnate. Whereas mastery entails the continuous perfecting of an art or skill; you're supposed to get better and better forever.
I am scared of being stuck in the first category. :s Excellence is a virtue too.
Monday, July 11, 2011
Trouble blogging again. Because my mind is cluttered, and I'm getting lazy.
Also, I have statistics to study... and my goddd... this stuff is not sinking in. And to think I actually did Level 2000/3000 statistics modules before. Where did any of the info go! I think our brain does throw out stuff we personally, primitively hate. I know I've done this before... but O.O no important information about it remains. must. not. be. lazy. and. stubborn. must. mug.
Got bored (i.e. wanted to procrastinate) and tried to google tumblr and lymond together, and surprise, surprise! there wasn't one dedicated to it. -.- puh. But did find someone reviewing a little bit of Checkmate...
I'm loving Checkmate, but I just can't get over the fact that Lymond and Philippa can, in a way, read each other's minds. And NEITHER ONE OF THEM QUESTIONS IT. It just starts happening as though it's perfectly natural and normal for a couple in love to share a telepathic connection. NO ONE IS ALARMED. I'm alarmed that no one is alarmed.
from putting the pro in procrastination.
haha! I kind of remember thinking like this.
Also, this makes me nostalgic; I do agree that most times, it's all about timing:
Oh God, I'm hopelessly gone. I should have waited a decade to read this when maybe I wouldn't be so susceptible to gorgeous, witty, dangerous heroes.
And some more stuff I agree with; how is it that I feel like I know this person:
And can I just say that this one line gave me shivers in a way the horror genre has never managed?
'It's Francis Crawford,' she said, her young voice harsh. 'Kill him for me?'
She says it to a roomful of 600 drunk men--men who happen to be Lymond's own army that he'd built. I was clutching my pillow and most likely groaning out loud at that point. Later we find out that Lymond walked into the room knowing everything would devolve into chaos and that they would probably end up flogging him. So before he doomed himself to that fate he loosened the chains on the whipping post so that he could get away later that night after they had whipped him. Jesus Christ. Just the fact that he walked into that room knowing he would fail to talk them down.... He comes in as they're verbally shredding his (dubious) reputation, violence permeating the air, and says, "Good evening. Wouldn't you prefer to stab me in the front, rather than the back?"
Who does that?! Who's that insane?!
This series is ruining me for all future novels. I can feel it. I can't remember the last time I was this immersed in a world and its characters.
YES, not since Lymond have I been truly satisfied again.
---
okay, I need a nap before I force the mugging on myself. :s
Also, I have statistics to study... and my goddd... this stuff is not sinking in. And to think I actually did Level 2000/3000 statistics modules before. Where did any of the info go! I think our brain does throw out stuff we personally, primitively hate. I know I've done this before... but O.O no important information about it remains. must. not. be. lazy. and. stubborn. must. mug.
Got bored (i.e. wanted to procrastinate) and tried to google tumblr and lymond together, and surprise, surprise! there wasn't one dedicated to it. -.- puh. But did find someone reviewing a little bit of Checkmate...
I'm loving Checkmate, but I just can't get over the fact that Lymond and Philippa can, in a way, read each other's minds. And NEITHER ONE OF THEM QUESTIONS IT. It just starts happening as though it's perfectly natural and normal for a couple in love to share a telepathic connection. NO ONE IS ALARMED. I'm alarmed that no one is alarmed.
from putting the pro in procrastination.
haha! I kind of remember thinking like this.
Also, this makes me nostalgic; I do agree that most times, it's all about timing:
Oh God, I'm hopelessly gone. I should have waited a decade to read this when maybe I wouldn't be so susceptible to gorgeous, witty, dangerous heroes.
And some more stuff I agree with; how is it that I feel like I know this person:
And can I just say that this one line gave me shivers in a way the horror genre has never managed?
'It's Francis Crawford,' she said, her young voice harsh. 'Kill him for me?'
She says it to a roomful of 600 drunk men--men who happen to be Lymond's own army that he'd built. I was clutching my pillow and most likely groaning out loud at that point. Later we find out that Lymond walked into the room knowing everything would devolve into chaos and that they would probably end up flogging him. So before he doomed himself to that fate he loosened the chains on the whipping post so that he could get away later that night after they had whipped him. Jesus Christ. Just the fact that he walked into that room knowing he would fail to talk them down.... He comes in as they're verbally shredding his (dubious) reputation, violence permeating the air, and says, "Good evening. Wouldn't you prefer to stab me in the front, rather than the back?"
Who does that?! Who's that insane?!
This series is ruining me for all future novels. I can feel it. I can't remember the last time I was this immersed in a world and its characters.
YES, not since Lymond have I been truly satisfied again.
---
okay, I need a nap before I force the mugging on myself. :s
Wednesday, July 06, 2011
I'm kinda having a nice roll of being disciplined and on-task with my work. (I hope I'm not jinxing myself by saying this!) I feel accomplished and sane, and I'm not picking up pieces of my brain off the floor that were scattered during panicked last-minute frenzies, haha.
Read this article called: On the difference between Good Dogs and Dogs That Need a Newspaper Smack, that attempts to describe the concept of privilege. It gets really convoluted, especially if you attempt to go through the numerous comments; I'm still trying to wrap my head around the whole thing. I particularly like the dog and gecko parable the author came up with to demonstrate the whole concept of privilege; hehe, it's quite cute.
The key to privilege isn’t worrying about having it, or trying to deny it, or apologize for it, or get rid of it. It’s just paying attention to it, and knowing what it means for you and the people around you. Having privilege is like having big feet. No one hates you for having big feet! They just want you to remember to be careful where you walk.
Read this article called: On the difference between Good Dogs and Dogs That Need a Newspaper Smack, that attempts to describe the concept of privilege. It gets really convoluted, especially if you attempt to go through the numerous comments; I'm still trying to wrap my head around the whole thing. I particularly like the dog and gecko parable the author came up with to demonstrate the whole concept of privilege; hehe, it's quite cute.
The key to privilege isn’t worrying about having it, or trying to deny it, or apologize for it, or get rid of it. It’s just paying attention to it, and knowing what it means for you and the people around you. Having privilege is like having big feet. No one hates you for having big feet! They just want you to remember to be careful where you walk.
Saturday, July 02, 2011
Sunday, June 26, 2011
We were talking about how even a smile is charity and that Nabi s.a.w. was called Al-Basam; the one who smiles.
Maybe an important part of life is about smiling regardless of one's situation; I remember reading somewhere that one of the especial people God loves are the happy ones. Perspective, yo! Sometimes, I think everything is perspective, and that if you're smart enough to psycho yourself about anything, then you can kinda deliberately manipulate your mindset to achieve anything.
---
The truth is that, for the most part, we are not in control. Great forces are at work in our lives, and we cannot work against them. To do so only makes you tired. The only thing to do is to see which way the wind is blowing and set sail in that direction. A skillful sailor can use the sails well, tacking into the wind and cleverly constructing a new course – but this requires keen observation and a deep understanding of and respect for the natural course of things.
Source
Maybe an important part of life is about smiling regardless of one's situation; I remember reading somewhere that one of the especial people God loves are the happy ones. Perspective, yo! Sometimes, I think everything is perspective, and that if you're smart enough to psycho yourself about anything, then you can kinda deliberately manipulate your mindset to achieve anything.
---
The truth is that, for the most part, we are not in control. Great forces are at work in our lives, and we cannot work against them. To do so only makes you tired. The only thing to do is to see which way the wind is blowing and set sail in that direction. A skillful sailor can use the sails well, tacking into the wind and cleverly constructing a new course – but this requires keen observation and a deep understanding of and respect for the natural course of things.
Source
Thursday, June 23, 2011
I need to read me a great book.
It's like, after so long not having read something good, I kind of forgot the reasons I love to read. That special gift only exceptional authors have; that way they can phrase something and touch your heart; or put an idea or feeling that you've always had into something simple and beautiful. Everyday, I read chunks of stuff online or anywhere, and it's like ... ... ... boring. And unmoving. And then on special days, unexpectedly, you can find a jewel. It's like a renewal of love.
For once, something on thought catalog moved me with its simplicity. Most of the times, the articles on the site make me go whatever -.-, this is crappy, soulless stuff. But then, someone has something genuine to share, and it's great. And it makes me wish I had something great to read.
Patience is a virtue.
It's like, after so long not having read something good, I kind of forgot the reasons I love to read. That special gift only exceptional authors have; that way they can phrase something and touch your heart; or put an idea or feeling that you've always had into something simple and beautiful. Everyday, I read chunks of stuff online or anywhere, and it's like ... ... ... boring. And unmoving. And then on special days, unexpectedly, you can find a jewel. It's like a renewal of love.
For once, something on thought catalog moved me with its simplicity. Most of the times, the articles on the site make me go whatever -.-, this is crappy, soulless stuff. But then, someone has something genuine to share, and it's great. And it makes me wish I had something great to read.
Patience is a virtue.