I am so tired tonight, ahakz. I stayed at the office late just so I could finish all my work for 2014, then I got home and started binging on Supernatural and KFC like a brain-dead zombie.

I watched this episode of Supernatural:

SPOILERS FOR SEASON 10







Haha! And just when E was telling me how X-files (or was it Buffy?) had a musical episode, and I happily commented, well, yes, I can't ever imagine Sam and Dean singing a musical number, that's why it hasn't happened. Apparently, I should bite my tongue -- they managed to make a musical episode, embedded within some meta-fiction!

I half-hate it. Meta often feels fan-nish and tacky. But at the same time, it offers such hilarious stuff -- and that's why I really can't hate it all that much. (I mean, seriously, if you think about it -- we totally transplanted ourselves into our fandom when we were in our teen years; it was hilarious and incredibly fun, but ridiculously embarrassing.)

I've decided I like this, ahahah.


---


Anyway, finally -- I've had my last day of work for 2014. And I'm looking forward to my trip! (((:

I don't know what I'm expecting, but I really -- wish, hope, pray -- that when I'm back, somehow, I'll... feel different. Figure out things more, see more. Be better, be inspired. Insya Allah, Amin.

The last time I was in Egypt was literally 10 years ago!

You can't just have sincerity; you need sincerity and guidance. You've got to be mukhlis with guidance, and that's called mukhlas.

-- Shaykh Hamza Yusuf

This explains a lot of people. And we should always check every now and again, if we happen to be one of them. Sincerely problematic.

insya Allah, all is well

Had lunch with the Linear Algebra peeps this afternoon, and we concluded it with a round table on the highs and lows of 2014 -- and it has compelled me to blog, because I've been meaning to, and because it's December and my reflection for the year is due!

So here come the bullet points because my capacity for writing continuous prose has severely deteriorated.

• First off, it fills me with a deep sadness that I am writing in bullet points again. What has become of this space! I have no inspiration or mood to write anymore, and I am wont to blame it on the busy working life. :( Inspiration comes from good, lengthy down-time, when you let thoughts simmer and slowly come to life.
• Which brings me to point 2 -- I have been complaining a lot about this year; and I am not happy that I am complaining so much like an ungrateful brat. :((( It's just that this year has been the year when WORK WENT NUTS. Like work suddenly decided to dump a crazy amount on my plate and my plate is still overflowing, and has no signs of clearing. Ever.
• Inpatient training! Wraps up a lot about 2014 for me. Bad experience. Good lessons.
• 3-day work week (or something equivalent) -- a future that I hope to realise. Because I want my life to grow in many ways, not just one, and not when it burns me out like this.
• I feel the hard times made me closer to some of my friends this year! 
• A crazy number of books bought and hoarded.
• Nice work trips! KL, and Medan.
• Egypt and Istanbul trip coming up! The former for a Mawlid gathering that has been a loooong time coming, and the latter for a quick holiday. I'm hoping both of those will conclude the year on a high note for me. And fill me with zest for what's to come, 2015 and beyond.

---

oh, heart! how I adore you.

yes. in good moments like tonight, I contemplate everything and feel happy.

Insya Allah, all is well, though much is unclear in this messy world.

Lack of discipline is the source of all evil: whoever does not obey, will be disemboweled by the admiral.

-- apparently a French wisdom, quoted by Lymond, in Pawn in Frankincense

And I quote here because I know discipline is what I sorely lack. (and yes, against my better judgement, I am re-reading Pawn in Frankincense because I got excited about going to Istanbul -- a revisit after ~16 years, whoo!)

Ideas get nowhere if one has zero discipline. :(

How to get over lack of discipline, if one is not disciplined to begin with??? I need an outside intervention.

Sadness.

God, give me inspiration and motivation.

I will work hard! Tomorrow... ZZZzzz.

No, seriously. Tomorrow.

because this country is run like a corporation

Oh, Singapore. Please let's move toward a better life.

Let's think less of money and profits and being first in everything, 

and more about building a sustainable and enriching life.

What a day.



This is why I never feel rested over the weekend. My schedule on the weekend is always crazy packed, that by the time Monday rolls around again (in the blink of an eye, it feels), I'm possibly even more exhausted. This is not a sustainable lifestyle, S.

Just returned home from the Singapore-Malaysia Suzuki Cup match at our spanking-new-beautiful stadium (for me reminiscent of Camp Nou! ahah). We lost -- if you didn't already know, but what an experience. First off, the last time I was at Kallang Stadium... was... I don't know when, honestly. So just being in those spectator seats, amongst the pumped-up crowd, was exhilarating. It brought back some long-suppressed patriotic feelings, and I cheered like I was back in school. And the crowd! So many, and so red. And there were like two rounds of a perfect Kallang Wave.

But then we lost, which put a damper on things. And led to us witnessing some crazy fan behaviour. We totally wanted to keropok the referee, ahah. He gave a penalty to Malaysia at like the 93rd minute or something -- and you can imagine the rage in the stands, aiyoh. Bottles, toilet paper rolls, were flung at the said referee-kayu until police with shields had to come escort him. I thought it was seriously funny that people refused to go home until we booed him to satisfaction. Funny, but also, not very pretty.

Also, earlier in the day:

Cara's wedding! 

One of the most demure and classy brides I've ever seen.

STs unite! at weddings.

God, I miss my class. I really do.

Then we birds had a seriously overdue meet-up:

Arabic exam tmr some more! 

Ridiculous. I must learn to prioritise.

"The habit of apprehending a technology in its completeness: this is the essence of technological humanism, and this is what we should expect education in higher technology to achieve. I believe it could be achieved by making specialist studies the core around which are grouped liberal studies which are relevant to these specialist studies. But they must be relevant; the path to culture should be through a man's specialism, not by-passing it...

A student who can weave his technology into the fabric of society can claim to have a liberal education; a student who cannot weave his technology into the fabric of society cannot claim even to be a good technologist."

-- Lord Ashby, Technology and the Academics

This -- as E and I share books, and thoughts about the world. We lament almost consistently now how education should have been for us, and how it should be in our dream school. Instead of being given the tools for thinking, we've often grown up being taught what to think.

Currently in Kuala Lumpur, at the tail end of this 4-day trip for a workshop on pediatric dysphagia.

Feel like I just have to blog, since I have the chance to. Although, I'm dying to get back to watching American Horror Story, thanks to my colleague-and-current-roomie G -- and I can't say no to horror, ahah.

This workshop has been super-educational, insightful, and vindicating. Especially vindicating, because I feel like it makes even more sense now why I floundered so much at inpatient training. I haven't suddenly developed a love for pediatric swallowing management, but I now appreciate the field a bit more, and I still feel like I'm an okay therapist, despite not being great at this.

I have other thoughts but--

tonight I want to chill in this awesome hotel. (: 

It's been a good feasting, learning, and shopping escapade.

So yesterday, after what seems like eons in the realm of friendship, I finally met up with E (I have taken to not spelling names out because then they are not made google-able, and there can be some semblance of anonymity to the other people in my life -- but no, I will not backtrack and do that to all my previous blogposts, that would be a nightmare).

Blogging list-like so that my thoughts aren't so messy:

• I realise I have been worrying my friends about my previous drama with inpatient training. I am sorry for being drama! It may be the reason J bought me pastry for free, accompanied me for haircuts, and the very reason E finally called down for a meet-up after so long. There is an innate melodramatic instinct in me -- I don't know if I should blame the Indian part of my heritage, haha. But actually, yes, the problem is not as bad it sounds and I am not dying. And besides, inpatient training has been put-on-hold, so life is not so crazy for now.

• That I have a few best friends. I tend to say E is my best friend because our rapport is crazy (see comic below for explanation), and just yesterday alone, we sat in the same restaurant for 3.5 hours just chatting. But then I spend a whole lot of time with J nowadays and it's cause I realise we have the same... needs, for lack  of better word. Like we panic over the same things, and she totally gets why I panic about the things I panic about. And then there's S, with whom discussions of the theological sort are just super-amazing, and our thoughts on the way the world should be are super-congruent. 

• It leads me to that one time the Linear Algebra group had a discussion on this topic of best friends, and I was appalled at the idea of two best friends having a falling out with one another because one of them had been neglectful of the other, and not included the best friend in all of her outings/decisions/new friendship groups. I didn't know that to some people, a best friend was an actual label, like a boyfriend. And you had exclusivity rights! like your boyfriend/significant other would. That would make me a cheating best friend! D: Because I guiltily enjoy all my best friends. Can't we have a polygamous relationship with friends, please. I love you all. (And omg, I'm starting to wonder if this is what polygamous men say to their wives! OMG -- no, no, no, romantic relationships are different from friendships (and not just cause of the sexual intimacy bit) and the arguments are not all necessarily parallel.)

• My brother is getting married before me; not-so-soon, but soon-enough, and for a while, it became this other thing that underscored how not-normal I felt I was. So I had a bit of soul-searching for a while to regain mental and emotional stability -- and I realised after a while, that this has happened repeatedly in my life. Not the fact that my brother was getting married, but the fact that I would always fall short of some conventional expectation or other (and maybe everyone does, eh) -- and that the best times of my life have always been when I came to realise that I liked me for who I am, that I accepted me for who I am, that I am different and it's okay (or even wonderful!). It's not easy to explain how this happens... but I think it's got something to do about seeing the beauty of your own situation and not missing it for someone else's fairytale.

• Despite the nightmare that inpatient work was, I still actually enjoy this profession. Just because it puts me in a position to work on stuff that are supremely interesting to me (i.e. language and communication, its intricacies, its impact on life, the brain) and I actually am able to do stuff to help people. I've been thinking how annoying it is to have these boundaries of our profession -- like this is what a speech therapist does, that is what a teacher does, that's what a doctor does, that's a counselor's job, we're therapists -- not academics. All I want to do is help people and do what I'm passionate about. Stop labeling me! It's suffocating. 

And now that I've finally lost steam, here's the INFP-INTP comic (from oddlydevelopedtypes.com, which is hilarious and fun) that I think depicts my dynamic with E:

growing old together... with friends, is fun

Panicking about our lack of trendy online knowledge:

---

Another sign of time passing: 

the newest generation of Bollywood stars are starting to make their onscreen debuts. 

Tiger Shroff and Kriti Sanon in Heropanti; 

mostly, this music video is here because of how much pretty there is: both face and fashion-wise. (Tiger's face, while McCaulay-Culkin-in-nature, grows on me after a while; 

also, he makes up for it so easily with that physique.)

But seriously -- that blue sari; I have half-a-mind to replicate that somehow into a halal version.

And it seemed only yesterday (i.e. in reality, ~13 years ago) 

when Kak Naz (and fine, me too!) was raving about Hrithik Roshan making his debut.

Happy Islamic New Year!

Insya Allah, this year will be better than the one before.





You know how people say, everything happens for a reason?

I think we're not supposed to necessarily know what the reasons are... But how does one not harp on it? Especially when things don't make sense. And when it appears so bad in real life.

It's been a while.

Work has been nightmarish. I find dealing with the inpatient cases virtually an impossible task. And I'm still praying hard for a relief from this difficulty.



Behind the nightmare though, I have learnt to reflect on this lifestyle that I've been thrust into -- this crazy, capitalist, slogging system that's made me feel more like a machine than a human being.

And I have decided on a few goals, one of which is: to make a 3-day work week a reality in a few years' time. Regardless of my marital status, the number of children I have or not, I am quitting this nutty system, and will strive to live by my own terms; for my sanity, for my health and psychological well-being, and for my social, intellectual and spiritual growth. I have decided a life that has me only seeing the night sky when I'm in my house has no value -- I find I cannot read, I cannot further my understanding of the numerous mysteries of this world, I cannot learn what is truly of value to me, and I cannot really enjoy social relationships. It appears that to keep subscribing to this hamster-wheel of a system, one must cease to be a thinking person, and feel satisfied with the mundanity of everyday drudge. And I have been feeling like a suffocated creature over this past year.

So, a 3-day work week is an attempt to take more control of my life. I cannot live shackled to the capitalist system; either I exit, or it kills me, I feel -- sorry for being melodramatic.

And it's not like I'm the first person to declare quits -- I actually feel it's a rising trend; I've heard stories of young families (with children, mind you!), whose only breadwinner is the husband who works only ~3 days in the week, and makes quality of life a priority. And the couple goes for coffee dates on weekday afternoons?! What the frak. Kill me now, I want a life like that right this instant if possible. And no, they are not business tycoons who lord over their employees and are actually earning big bucks -- they are educated, typical Singaporeans with run-of-the-mill careers (i.e. teachers, behavioural therapists) who have decided to value life more than the race. And if it's me, I will homeschool my kids, damn it, because I want them to learn to cherish life too.

It is possible, some day, if not right this minute (because of my bond). And oh God, help me make it happen. I want to live serving You, not this bloody economic system.


See? -- other more prominent persons have been proposing similar ideas:

While feeling in control and working fewer hours may seem like distinct issues, they are fundamentally connected. When we own more of our time, we feel like we’re in charge of our lives and our schedules, which makes us happier and, ultimately, better at what we do. Our health and happiness also increases in the course of our lifetimes and, with it, our value to the workplace and to society as a whole. Additionally, we may finally recover from chronic sleep deprivation, which is one of the greatest health hazards currently facing the average employee. Sleep quality, in turn, translates to better cognition, clearer thinking, and increased productivity. Instead of the usual vicious circle, we get a virtuous one.

-- Why not a three-day week? by Maria Konnikova

Subhanallah, this year is tough, and is still going tough.

I feel almost physically pressured by life's demands and expectations -- and I've been resorting to all sorts of duas for relief.





Insya Allah, I will come out of this better and stronger than before. And I will blog again on a better note!

(Currently, it is clear -- stress is truly damaging to creativity and free expression.)

Before I forget about it completely, I should put a quick post about the roadtrip -- a wonderful, wonderful break, and meeting distant family connections, 

and enjoying the chillax kampung life in Malaysia.

There was this park called "Taman Tamadun Islam" in Terengganu that had various Islamic monuments and mosques in mini size -- very exciting!

They didn't miss out Masjid Sultan! Hehe. 

We were so psyched to see Singapore in a different country.

And of course, DURIAN. 

And being invited for home-made Nasi Dagang at 10 PM at night

-- el fresco kampung style!

---

This trip also allowed me to slow down, and start on At The Loch Of The Green Corrie (while on the road in the car, or between moments in the hotel room) gifted and forced upon me by E -- and wonderfully so. (Ever since coming back to SG, I have had little peace of mind to keep reading this like I did on the trip -- sadness.)

This book is beautiful as books rarely are. And pays tribute to a poet, and poetry in general.

Rich day

All day we fished

the loch clasped in the throat

of Canisp, that scrawny mountain,

and caught trout and 

invisible treasures.

We walked home, ragged millionaires,

our minds jingling, our fingers

rustling the air.

And now, lying on the warm sand,

we see

the rim of the full moon

rest on a formal corrugation of water

at the feet of

a Britannia cloud:

sea and sky, one golden sovereign

that will never be spent.

-- Norman MacCaig

I feel so deprived and sad, when I think of how in crammed, busy Singapore, I, we, can scarcely understand, much less experience, this feeling of richness without riches; to be attached to the landscape, and the realness and concreteness of nature, the inexhaustibility of our God-given earth; to be able to feel content, and feel like what there is, is enough.

These personalities, these comedians -- John Oliver, Jon Stewart, Russell Brand -- do so well,

because, I suppose, truth is most palatable when wrapped in humour.

An exhausting week is over! Gosh, I was counting down painfully to tonight, no joke. And now Friday night is here, and I'm off on a roadtrip to Malaysia tomorrow! Alhamdulillah for this nice break. 

:DDD

But I have to say how crazy these past few days have been. I have been so tired, I feel like the black circles under my eyes are growing every second or something. So tired and scatterbrained that this morning while in the nursery wards, I misplaced my stethoscope, and hunted back and forth for it -- luckily it was hanging nicely alongside a cot, but I swear I have no idea how it got there. I was already accusing in my head one of the doctors for swiping it or something >.< because I felt like he was the only one hovering around where my stetho was and he was eyeing me very condescendingly for some reason. And then later, just before M was telling me to call G (ah crap, I do not enjoy the hectic inpatient life -- I will lament in another post perhaps), I dug around in my pouch and could not for the life of me find my phone! And then had another mad hunt for my phone while running between the nurseries. Fortunately, I learn that there are very nice nurses and also very nice doctors, who in the midst of treating fragile babies, helped me locate my phone. >.< Again, my phone was somewhere by a baby's cot, and I still don't know how it got there.

GODDDD. I will totally sujud syukur when inpatient training is done. It's like one of my life's mega hurdles.

One of my school-age kids, in the middle of session today, suddenly said, in all seriousness:


"... Can I say something?"

"Yes, you can, of course."

"You know... I am dyslexic."

(At this point, I was so over-whelmed by how adorable it was, I could barely contain from gushing over him in front of his face. I love these kids. Oh, honey, of course I know you're dyslexic -- it's all over your case file.)

"Yes, I saw that... How's that going?"

"I go to DAS now, every Saturday."


And I let him tell me a little bit about how he's learning to read every week. If they only realised how awesome they are, these kids -- instead of feeling like they had some terrible terminal disease. And even kids who have terminal illnesses, they shouldn't feel like they're inadequate or less worthy.

The way he said it, like he was telling me something disappointing about himself. Oh gosh, I wanted to hug him. So rare to have such highly-cognitive sparks on my caseload who can actually articulate the emotional turmoil they go through.

With all the constant talk and reminders from people about what one is supposed to be doing at this age (married, having kids, having a stable job, climbing the corporate ladder etc) -- a reminder from my past self...

"... yesterday's movie night was nice, although I was close to falling asleep at the end of the movie cause I was so tired. The pizza was fantastic, Nerney's flat was beautiful (seriously gorgeous and well-tended greenery) and the projector and screen provided me with my much-missed cinematic experience. And Pleasantville was nice even though I'd watched it more than once before.

I like the bit at the end of the movie, when David's mum complains how she's such a wreck cause she's forty years old and a widow and miserable. How when her husband was still alive they had planned for the perfect car, the perfect house, the perfect life. And how everything's wrong now and it's not supposed to be like this. And David tells her, "It's okay. It's not supposed to be anything."

It's not supposed to be anything. I'm okay, I guess."

-- March 4th, 2007

It's not supposed to be anything! :) I'm still okay, I guess.

Life-long learning indeed.

In this trying period, I am learning to grapple with failure, and struggling to understand what it really means to work hard and not give up. I wish I had tried more and failed more as a child (and not stayed so safe), so that I'm not such an amateur at this. It's a silly thing to always want to do well, and not try at something challenging enough that you fail. Try at something impossible or at least more difficult, so that you fail, and then life will scare you less. (When I have a kid some day, this is going into his or her syllabus.) Because you fail... and then so what? Life goes on, damn it. And the learning continues.

Besides, just picking yourself up after you fall is an act of jihad.

"Any art or skill is possessed by those who have formed the habit of operating according to its rules. In fact, the artist or craftsman in any field differs thus from those who lack his skill. He has a habit they lack. You know what I mean by habit here. I do not mean drug addition. Your skill in playing golf or tennis, your technique in driving a car or cooking soup, is a habit. You acquired it by performing the acts which constitute the whole operation.

There is no other way of forming a habit of operation than by operating. That is what it means to say one learns to do by doing. The difference between your activity before and after you have formed a habit is a difference in facility and readiness. You can do the same thing much better than when you started. That is what it meants to say practice makes perfect. What you do very imperfectly at first you gradually come to do with the kind of almost automatic perfection that an instinctive performance has. You do something as if you were to the manner born, as if the activity were as natural to you as walking or eating. That is what it means to say that habit is the second nature.

One thing is clear. Knowing the rules of an art is not the same as having the habit. When we speak of a man as skilled in any way, we do not mean that he knows the rules of doing something, but that he possesses the habit of doing it. Of course, it is true that knowing the rules, more or less explicitly, is a condition of getting the skill. You cannot follow rules you do not know. Nor can you acquire an atristic habit—any craft or skill— without following rules. The art as something which can be taught consists of rules to be followed in operation. The art as something which can be learned and possessed consists of the habit which results from operating according to the rules."

-- How To Read A Book, by Adler Mortimer

---

On other fun things, I have completed Fated To Love You, the korean drama -- and it was overall very lovely and I'm contemplating getting it for my Mum to watch. More importantly, this drama introduced me to the famous and much-loved Jang Hyuk, and now I'm finally compelled to look up his popular historical drama Chuno, which has been raved about numerously before but I just never got around to it.

Anyway, this guy -- ah! The quintessential opposite of the pretty flower boys so famous in Kpop culture today; so manly and guy and rugged good looks, even in a character as nutty as his was in this rom-com. I am not surprised Running Man's Jong Kook and him are best buds -- I imagine them hanging out at the juice bar after working out at the gym or mountain climbing every weekend. HAHA. So crazy fit and that hero-physique --- hello, I am anticipating him as this famous Chuno hero character -- because you know hero archetypes and historical fiction is my real genre, hehe.

Until then, Fated To Love You, thank you for a lovely time and for making me temporarily believe in fairytales again.

September already! :O

I think this blog needs to grow up. Like it needs a new direction or something (or at least a layout change, omg!), but I can't make myself spare the time or the effort to try out anything.

Anyways, finishing up a korean drama (that's sorta distracting me from the mugging for inpatient dysphagia, oops), "Fated to Love You" -- a korean remake of the famous Taiwanese drama I remember watching sporadically back in the youthful undergraduate days; and one of my professors sharing a clip of it in one of my USP modules! ahah.

This has been lovely, and such a fairytale.

Beautiful song:

And I was thinking, laughing to myself: fortunately or unfortunately, life is not a korean drama. 

Nowadays, all I feel like having in the way of entertainment is funny material. Which is why watching Running Man is such a destress-er because it always succeeds in making me laugh out loud.

Such that even when I feel like having a bite of fanfic, I start revisiting one of the funniest fanfiction ever written (honest): Draco Malfoy, The Amazing Bouncing Rat, is so hilarious, I remember the first time I read it, I would fall off my seat and stay laughing on the floor.



A few lines in, and it already wins, hehe:

Draco reviewed the thoughts he had just had and realised he was in dire need of caffeine. Preferably injected straight into the vein. 

I'm a Malfoy, he thought. A creature of the night. This early in the morning is just not on. 


Yes, early morning is not on for me either. I always feel I would function a lot better if we didn't have to wake up so early and drag our feet to work...

ZZZZZZzzzz.

I'm dreading Mondays even more these days because, I'm sure you already realise, there's blasted inpatient training to get through. And it's making life 10 times less enjoyable for me -- because seriously, I know I didn't enter this profession for dysphagia. I wish it wasn't one of the things we did, dang it.

And if I really wanted to rush around in the wards, read through illegible handwriting while figuring out a gazillion acronyms in record speed, and prevent people from dying, I would have become a doctor. This medical scene -- not what I want. Really, really, really. I love language. I love the brain. But I do not love dysphagia -- if some day, I end up actually enjoying any of this, I will be surprised. Specifically, I really do not enjoy the speediness of things. Having to do everything chop-chop. Eeeesh. I'm a slow thinker, I chew on things, I ruminate. This is not my ideal style of work.

Dear God, help me through this period of my life, towards a brighter future. Ganbarou!

Let's tahan a while more, S, because this is just part of paying back a debt and building up a resume.



Also, it's true -- when your days are full of stress and frustration, all you want to do when you finally get time for yourself, is barely anything productive. I honestly hate that -- because I actually have so many ambitions outside of my career, and how do I progress at all if I exhaust myself like this and I don't do anything decent like organize my clutter, progress through Arabic, cultivate a healthy lifestyle, build on my spirituality, or socialise beyond my comfort zone?

I totally had a Running Man binge this weekend -- 3 episodes or thereabouts. I blame it on stress. And of course, my lack of discipline.



My favourite Monday couple vids!

Sloth

One of the seven deadly sins.

Not mere laziness, but a spiritual indifference. A falling out of love with God. That when someone mentions God, you yawn, or you go: Uh, why are we talking about this? Sorry, don't think He's important.

"You can have a person who's busy in the world, but if they're neglectful of God then they're slothful in a spiritual sense. It's a spiritual laziness, it's never thinking about the spiritual path."

-- Shaykh Hamza in the Sonnets

Which is the case with a lot of people and situations, right? Most people don't talk about God.

I realise I love so many of the movies that Robin Williams was ever in, but if I had to choose a favourite, it's Good Will Hunting (although Dead Poet's Society also awesome beyond awesome, how to choose).




Ohmygosh, this scene! I have to cry everytime I watch this:






This may seem incongruous, but my thoughts have been running on:

"Expecto Patronum!" cried Harry.

Nothing happened.

Not a single flicker of light.

When Harry looked up, Remus Lupin was still studying the wand, a rather troubled look on his faintly scarred face.

Finally Remus shook his head. "I'm sorry, Harry," the man said quietly. "Your wandwork was exactly right."

And there wasn't a flicker of light anywhere else, either, because all the other first-years who were supposed to be practicing their Patronus Charms had been glancing out of the corners of their eyes at Harry instead.

The tears were threatening to come back into Harry's eyes, and they weren't happy tears. Of all the things, of all the things, Harry had never expected this.

There was something horribly humiliating about being informed that you weren't happy enough.

-- Harry Potter and the Methods of Rationality

I would like to defy this pervasive belief that being sad is shameful, which is how really-sad people become ever isolated and marginalised. I was once very sad, and sometimes I get really sad still, and I'm proud of it. I believe that you cannot feel extreme joy and gratitude, without having felt pain and despair. Seriously, being happy is commonplace; but sadness and tragedy is grand -- because it cultivates the best qualities in humans. Heroes never grow in the lap of luxury, I guarantee you (I can't think of a single instance from my knowledge of fictional heroes, or otherwise). Struggle is an absolute necessity in the making of anything great.

So all those people who get sad, depressed, or struggle in life -- why contemplate exiting life early, when God Is only providing you the circumstances for greatness?

On reflection of previous whiny posts, a reminder from Lymond:

“Today,’ said Lymond, ‘if you must know, I don’t like living at all. But that’s just immaturity boggling at the sad face of failure. Tomorrow I’ll be bright as a bedbug again.” 

― Dorothy Dunnett, The Disorderly Knights

Training going at a slow, steady pace, and I'm living one day at a time. Yoshi!



Ridiculous and random thought maybe -- but I wish I had an older sister. In more recent years, I've come to have slightly older ladies as friends, and I realise of how much value they are. I've never had older girls I really admired until recently; it's silly. I should have befriended more of my seniors back in school.

I came across a book, that ended up feeling like a korean drama series -- because it gripped me through all of its plot meanderings, until it threw me disappointingly off a cliff at the end. So anti-climactic! Ah, it annoys the heck out of me when something isn't wrapped up nicely, and especially when everything that went before was beautiful and moving.

This was a wonderful love story, that hid a splat at the end -- but regardless, left a great impression on me. It reminds me of the famous "The Time Traveller's Wife", but maybe even more intriguing. It tells the story of a man called Daniel, whose soul has lived and died and lived again countless times since 520 A.D., and been the only soul who appears to remember all these past lives. And of course, he remembers the same girl through all the hundreds of years -- while regrettably, the girl does not. Talk about pining of epic proportions.



"One thing I can tell you from my unusual perspective is how powerfully our souls reveal themselves in our faces and bodies. Just sit on a train sometime and look at the people around you. Choose a person's face and study it carefully. All the better if they are old and a stranger to you. Ask yourself what you know about that person, and if you open yourself to the information, you will find you know an overwhelming amount. We naturally guard ourselves from the obvious truths of strangers around us, so be warned. You can get overstimulated and uneasy if you really start to look. One of the skills of living is simplifying as you go, so when you let your guard down, the complexity is troubling. There are certain rare people you find -- usually they are healers or poets or people who work with animals -- who live their lives in this state, and I admire them and sympathize with them, but I am not like them anymore. I've done a lot of simplifying in my life."

-- My Name Is Memory, by Ann Brashares

I've been having a terrible work week.

It's only Week 1, but inpatient training is already sucking my energy, self-esteem, confidence, tenacity, and all my happy vibes, leaving it somewhere within the confusing hallways of the hospital. Beyond ridiculous how many things I have going on all at once right now on top of this mind-wrecking training, like department-wide process improvement projects, planning for SLT week for SHAS, worldwide clinical studies I agreed to help with in the way of language assessments (except M left me almost completely in the dark when she had her baby and passed me the helm, that I am close to screaming at the confusing mess) -- and I keep wishing I could go back in time and tell all those people and projects I said yes to, and say no instead. Choose any one of the projects I do, and it is virtually an entire job scope on its own. To think I do all of them on top of clinical contact time (and today I had a full-schedule) -- PLEASE, IT IS RIDICULOUS.

At the end of today, I got home and was ready to just collapse. Sort of did. Burst into tired tears at one point, because on top of all this nightmare work and feeling like a stunted brain, I was alone at home -- a lonely, pitiful, heartbroken woman with no love prospects, and somewhat a weirdo, and realising she's probably always been one, how is now any different. You know how being in a negative place brings out all your negativity? That's what probably happened.

But luckily.

Being alone also allowed me to kind of let it all out instead of keeping it all in -- yes, I'm not one of those girls who cries on Mummy's lap, or anybody's kindly shoulder. I need alone time so I can stop dissembling for a while. So I let it all out; and prayed, and then things started becoming awesome again.

I came across this (which was what I was trying to get to this whole time, ahak). Seriously, this is so brilliant, I am not exaggerating in the least!

This is a lengthy lecture by Jeffrey Lang; it is basically a mathematician's approach to understanding about God and Islam. The way he passionately brings the audience through his philosophical conundrums, and then wrapped it all up into a beautiful, succinct perspective of the meaning of life he thus gained from the Qura'an -- as expected of a mathematician. A beautiful, balanced equation.

He made it so clear -- "Why we do we suffer?", "Why do we have to make difficult choices? Why can't we just be programmed to do good?", "Why is life so difficult!!!"

That my night turned completely around -- life is difficult because God loves us all, and wants us to be awesome. (:

Alhamdulillah.

This is so good!

History should really be examined so that we don't keep doing the same stupidity.

 

The saddest thing about the world today is really the fragmentation of our Muslim community. 

And we can bitch about injustice in the world; the jihad of this time however appears to be not to fight the doubtless present evils, but to first unite amongst ourselves, and to bring love back to this deen.

For me, I have learnt and discovered that we have Muslims, 

and then we have Muslims who truly love the Prophet s.a.w..

The difference between the two can be stark 

-- no way would you harm or disturb an innocent soul
if you have the Prophet s.a.w. in your heart.

Ya Allah, 

I strive to begin every endeavour with You as its destination 

and Your Beloved Rasulullah s.a.w. as its guiding light.

 Selamat Hari Raya!

We stopped over at Qiaonan amidst our jalan raya to take photos! 

before our beloved primary school is gone forever.

This raya has been a bit of a downer -- for clear reasons (really, aren't we being quite terrible with all this celebrating while the bombing in Gaza goes on forever? sigh). But for some other reasons too: like the fact that I have got a bad cold and really don't feel like eating much at all (which is probably a good thing, haha). And that I have inpatient training starting this coming week, which means a steep uphill climb and future stress of passing my paediatric dysphagia competency.

And that I have been feeling more starkly in recent times how much of a weirdo I am. But thank goodness I had Jean, who tried to convince me that you know, it's better to be a weirdo and be made aware of certain things; and that she believes I'm really just different in a good way.

After much mulling over these few days, I've come up with this: 

dear God, if you would make me weird, please make me brave.

Actually --

Please make all the souls fighting for justice and for their lives in Gaza brave and patient and strong. And please let help be at hand.

I'm not sure how much scarier this is supposed to get. 

Hilarious! an excellent parody for outing hypocrisy that is the media.

This show is addictive.

What's new about this current Israel-Palestinian conflict, I ask you.


Nothing.

It's been happening consistently, and has been repeated every year.

The only difference it seems is that, thanks to the wonderful double-edged sword that is the internet, information is becoming increasingly, freely available. People, if they so choose, can work around propaganda and dig up the truth for themselves -- and then they can decide where their hearts should lie.

All that has happened recently only confirms and reinforces some things to me (as it should to you):

-- that mainstream media is mostly lying (duh, I have long learnt this)

-- that the big world leaders regardless of who or where are almost always corrupted and devoid of real honour; there are some politicians who speak out for truth e.g. Chile, George Galloway -- but the shakers and movers, the ones who can actually maybe make things happen? none. Singapore? hopeless; more apparent than any other nation, money is priority, so let's take care of our backs first. United States of America? Completely and utterly in consort with evil. Saudi? so knee deep in evil that they decide to be evil too; it's too late to turn back. Egypt? all self-centred political agenda and not enough sincerity and iman to bring any real efforts for peace to fruition. United Kingdom? pretend to be a better player than big bully US, but actually was the original consort of evil. Israel? an evil institution whose creation if you ever bothered to learn has no basis whatsoever in rationality or humanity.

-- that it is indeed the end of times ):

-- that all I can seem to do is pray, and even that I do inconsistently ):

-- okay, you can do some things to campaign against the Palestinian siege, like boycotting Israeli products; there's an app called Buycott that helps you identify which products to avoid just by scanning its barcode! very cool. and you can offer monetary aid to the victims. Because even if none of this achieves much (and when the violence dies down we start to forget), at least we try to do what Nabi s.a.w. told us -- that if we see evil or wrongdoing, we attempt to oppose it with our hands, and if we aren't able to do that, to do it with our tongues; and if even that is not possible, to condemn it within our hearts

-- that we all need to increase in faith even more to counter the scary world we live in today, full of fitnah and challenges.

I really hope that the Eid prayers this year has a good doa for all the suffering that's been happening.

This is amusing! Until you realise the world really is in a terrible state. D:

I had an inpatient child for therapy today -- one of those social cases; kids that have been abandoned and now have become semi-villagers in the hospital (i.e. staying in the wards for extended periods). Kids like this make my heart ache, and make me feel like maybe I should stay in the hospital indefinitely, instead of having grand plans for exiting the public system some day.

I played with her some; and her communication is fine, if slightly delayed. Near the end, she was desperately trying to tell us what she wanted but started bursting into tears, when nobody could understand her. Then she rushed to me and laid her face in my lap and started sobbing away -- until I figured out, oh my goodness, she wanted a handphone. At which, I still had to tell her, no, of course. Which set her off again -- until the play therapist and I managed to get her to calm down with star stickers. Then the awesome play therapist took her for a little walk all around the ward. And when I waved goodbye to her, all she did was stare.

I then realised why my colleagues always jokingly talk about adopting our hospital villagers. 

So many kids around the world, who actually deserve so much more -- don't get me started on those horrifying pictures of Palestinian children all over our screens.

I'm sorry that I have nothing to offer, but my prayers. But kids, stay happy, and play hard. Indeed, God is Your Protector.

---

On a lighter note, I did this hilarious and fun activity with my sister last night:

OTP challenge! 

(Source from hawkghei.tumblr)

Pick your 10 top OTPs without reading the questions

1. Lymond and Philippa (The Lymond Chronicles)

2. Yamapi and Maki

3. Draco and Ginny (Draco Trilogy)

4. Kang Gary and Song Ji Hyo (Running Man)

5. Richard and Kahlan (The Legend of the Seeker)

6. Domyouji and Makino (Hana Yori Dango) / Jun and Mao

7. Logan and Veronica (Veronica Mars)

8. Peter Parker and Mary Jane 

9. Michael and Maria (Roswell)

10. Michael and Sara (Prison Break)

Questions

1. Do you remember the episode/scene/chapter that you first started shipping 6?

Uh, since the start of the first episode. After I got over how nuts Domyouji was HAHAHA. And I love Makino to pieces, funny and adorable girl.

2. Have you ever read a FanFiction about 2?

Yes, it was my first foray into real-people fiction. Gave me the chills, initially, doing so. But Yamaki was thriving way back then, especially on heat-up-JE on livejournal.

3. Has a picture of 4 ever been your screen saver/profile picture/tumblr?

HAHA very recently I reblogged something about them on Tumblr, I think.

4. If 7 were to suddenly break-up today, what would your reaction be?

NO. They just got back together, damn it, in the movie.

5. Why is 1 so important?

BECAUSE THEY ARE EPIC. The suffering, the pain, the years of knowing each other and growing, the awesomeness of each of them trying to come together to make more awesomeness -- and all of that written in amazing prose. I'd like to see someone try and beat that.

6. Is 9 a funny ship or a serious ship?

Sorta both? Back when I loved Roswell, I thought Max/Liz was uber tedious but Michael/Maria was exciting as frak, and hilarious too. Although they did have their serious moments later in the seasons too, when the alien-human-forbidden-love thing came to a head.

7. Out of all of the ships listed, which ship has the most chemistry?

Yamapi and Maki -- because have you seen them on screen properly back in the day? Ridiculous! Sparks left, right, and center! And because chemistry is mostly a physical thing, I can't say much on my number 1 (since it's all in text). I swear to you, we need to put Yamapi and Maki in the same drama again for the sparks to fly a second time; Japan TV, please get a clue.

8. Out of all of your ships listed, which ship has the strongest bond?

I guess this should be Lymond and Philippa -- like I mentioned, they knew each other, for about 10 years, in all kinds of crazy and dangerous hijinks. Sacrificed for each other, loved each other's families, almost died many times while in trouble together, defeated psycho enemies together...

9. How many times have you read/watched 10’s fandom?

Ah crap, not much at all, honestly. I was running out of ideas by number 10. But I did watch a few fanvids -- don't think I could find any good fics back then.

10. Which ship has lasted the longest?

Errr, Draco/Ginny, I suppose -- because I discovered that when I was ~15 years old, and still hold a fondness for them. 

11. How many times, if ever, has 6 broken up?

Was it once? When Domyouji was in New York and then started ++ignoring Makino and then declares he can't be with her cause he's too important and busy (and his life will just be bad for her etc etc) -- psycho boy.

12. If the world was suddenly thrust into a zombie apocalypse, which ship would make it out alive, 2 or 8?

HAHA obviously Number 8 because damn, the dude is Spiderman. Yamapi only has a what -- green belt in karate...?

13. Did 7 ever have to hide their relationship for any reason??

Uh yes, I think, especially in the beginning -- cause everyone thought they were supposed to hate each other; and the fact that they needed to figure out murder mysteries.

14. Is 4 still together?

UHHHHHH -- I hope they're together, haha (though in real life, no, cause Ji Hyo is apparently dating someone else). Monday couple still meets every Monday… and there's hope.

15. Is 10 canon?

Yes. I did not officially finish the whole drama, but I heard they had a kid together, though Michael died.

16. If all 10 ships were put into a couple’s Hunger Games, which couple would win?

Richard and Kahlan! Because both of them are powerful -- Richard has his sword of truth and Kahlan can enslave practically anyone with her touch. 

17. Has anybody ever tried to sabotage 5’s ship?

Yes -- themselves! HAHA. And Zed. Kahlan was afraid she would ruin Richard because of her powers blah blah blah and so wants to protect him from her blah blah… So they had to keep it platonic for a very long while.

18. Which ship would you defend to the death and beyond?

1, Lymond/Philippa -- for clear reasons. EPIC. (Although Logan and Veronica come a close second). I almost considered Yamapi/Maki but the both of them are hopeless, I give up.

19. Do you spend hours a day going through 3’s tumblr page?

No. This was an OTP of my teenage days, mostly. I am still fond of them, but I don't stare at pictures, no. -.-

 20. If an evil witch descended from the sky and told you that you had to pick one of the ten ships to break up forever or else she’d break them all forever, which ship would you sink?

MIchael and Maria -- because actually I think it might not work because, er, inter-species? I think it spells ++possible problems in the future, haha. Plus, Michael got a bit irritating in later seasons and treated Maria atrociously, if I recall correctly.

And in light of this, further amusing OTP discussions abound! haha.

HAHA, behold the new ship, ShoYujie.

I actually really like this papparazi-ed photo of us from Pigey's wedding, 

looking quite conspiratorial.

Looking at this, I wish I was 16 again. In a lot of ways, I am glad I am grown. 

But I do miss life just being simpler.

And us being... daily friends.

---

I have come to realise that big ideas are equal parts exciting and scary. 

The important bit is deciding which part you let win you over.

Hm.