Rides of the Night and its Observations (What?)

I made these observations in impromptu. All started when I was on my way to KLIA from UIA Gombak.

The night was clear. Half moon and stars filled the sky. The trees, they were all waving at me, bidding me goodbye. I looked back and it was a splendor semester I have ever had and as it ended, I must go back home.

At the bus stop near Farouq UIA, I waited for a bus, and a bus, empty and on rest, parked right in front of the bus stop. The sound of working engine meant that I might get my ride soon (at least what I thought). Unfortunately, it left me a few minutes later. Sigh.

According to my time, I have 25 minutes left before the last train takes off at the Gombak station, 11.45pm, as stated in the website I have searched. There was no time for me. Minutes passed and I have to decide. To wait for a bus? I rather not. I requested a Uber ride instead.

After 7-minute waiting, a car approached from afar, beaming its light and giving a signal to park on the side of the road, in front of the bus stop where the bus had parked. I got in and introduced myself. To my surprise, the driver was also an UIA student.

We have a talk. We were both engineering student, I left the school, though. He stayed and extended for 3 semesters. I reminisced the day I studied all the mathematics and we denied we enjoy it but in the end, it was fun and challenging. What made him stay even though it was a rough sail was that he has to do it. I observed his stiff voice. He was talking about his friends graduating from the university, leaving him as they embarked on another phase of life - working and getting their own money. The stiff voice, that was what I have had a few weeks ago within me when my friends graduated.

We arrived at the LRT. I left him a joke to leave UIA asap and it's boring to stay there any longer. In my heart, I prayed for his best.

With only one passenger, the train left the station.

At 12 am, we arrived at KL Central station. Bad news. The last bus took off from the station to KLIA at 11 pm. I asked around and a taxi driver suggested me to take a cab instead. Midnight price and high fixed price? Not a chance.

I bought a ticket to KLIA2. There were not many passengers and it was a pleasant rest. I woke up later arriving at the bus station in KLIA2. I went straight to the counter to buy a ticket for a transit to KLIA by bus. RM2 by right. Sadly, no transit bus available after 12 am and I have to wait until 5.30 am for the first trip for the day. If that's the case, no problem for me. The problem was, however, when you have a concerned father who was afraid that you might miss the flight due to these casualties, waiting for hours for a transit was a bad idea. I have no choice.

I went outside hoping for a miracle. As if He listened and responded in no time, a transit bus arrived. It was past 12 am and I was surprised. Maybe luck came to greet me like an old friend again. I talked to the bus conductor and asked if the service was still on the roll. The answer shocked me. A yes and no would probably best suited my dilemma. Yes, the bus shall give me a trip to KLIA but no, sir. No for an overpriced trip. He charged me RM10. I believed if taxis would do the same too.

In the end, I requested a Uber ride again.

This time, an old man with a clean black Proton Preve. He greeted me as I entered his car. His name was Uncle A (let's kept it anonymous yea). A 50-year old man from Malacca who lived in KL for most of his lifetime. A government retiree. He told me that age greeted him like an old friend. You thought it sounded bad, no? A lucky I have yet to meet.

He retired 3 years earlier, rest for a while, bought a new car, and became a Uber driver. I asked him why did he make the choice? As a government worker, you can easily get a lot of benefits. In a time of economic crisis such as this year, we all need a secure job. But this was not the deal for Uncle A. He chose to end his career, leaving his office earlier, to have his own job that he could control. Basically, Uber was it. He could do it in the morning or at night, and his working space was not limited. He could drive anywhere upon his customer's request. When I asked how he felt, he seemed to enjoy it at the moment. He felt energized and relax at the same time.

And at the same time too, we found ourselves at KLIA. I paid him a fee and I bid him farewell.

My observations were simply impromptu. But I could see a fine line between these people - all were motivated by money. Their social variability and psychology shaped their reasons but all led to gaining their own income. I claimed no justification for the overprice fees imposed on me, I leave them as they were. People have reasons. All of them - the engineering student, the taxi driver, the bus conductor, and Uncle A, they all have reasons. In all cases, I was depended on my money too, like them, and I was particular in choosing my rides.

Where does these impromptu observations lead me to? What does it teach me?

The economy is one of the basic aspects of human life. Human depends on the economy to survive, to keep up with a dynamic life they build, to not be statics or too slow, else they will be left. (and all the buses left me because I was late!)

Doa Penghidupan

Doa Penghidupan
hasil nukilan AmirullahZul

Ada seutas benang terurai di sisi baju anak kecil. Lompat sedikit akan merosak baju putih yang sudah lama itu. Adapun hasil bermain di tepi pokok, berlarian dengan anak-anak yang umurnya sama sudah pasti akan membuka jahitan baju si anak kecil.

Dari jauh, sang ibu memanggil dengan lembutnya. Si anak kecil masih berlari-lari dengan gah, mencari yang bersembunyi. Semakin di panggil, semakin dia tidak mendengar. Lalu nyaring panggilan memenuhi segenap kawasan kampungnya, dengan nama penuhnya disebut, mata si anak kecil pantas mencari sang ibu. Gusar hatinya takut ada yang dimarah.

Si anak kecil berlari meninggalkan teman lain yang terus bermain. Wajahnya kasar kotor penuh tanah. Seliparnya tertinggal. Kiranya nanti akan diambil setelah usai bicara dengan sang ibu. Langkah semakin besar dan laju saat jelas ibunya berdiri di hadapan rumah kayu beratap beratap biru. Demikian jugalah degup jantungnya.

Sang ibu sudah menanti kepulangan si kecil lincah. Nakal seperti monyet. Tidak kalah berbadan kecil tapi bermain menang berjiwa besar. Dia sudah berdiri di hadapan sang ibu dengan kepala tunduk ke tanah seolah-olah ada salah.

"Ayah sudah pulang."

Nadanya tidak kasar tidak lembut dan bukanlah kebiasaan bagi sang ibu itu yang terkenal dengan budi baiknya. Jadi si anak kecil menjadi lebih takut, khuatir mungkin ada silapnya. Kalau makan, pinggannya sudah dicuci dan diletak atas rak. Mungkin juga kerana baju sekolahnya dibiar atas lantai tapi mustahil. Seingatnya, sudah direndam dalam baldi dan dijemur terus supaya besoknya boleh dipakai lagi. Kalau perihal sekolah, sudah dilangsai semua kerja rumah. Jadi apa?

"Atan, sudah kamu siapkan kerja sekolah?" tanya ibunya.
"Iya, ibu."
"Baju sekolahmu?"
"Ada tu dijemur."
"Sudah makan?"
"Dah."
"Pinggannya?"
"Atan dah kemas."

Cemas. Si anak kecil merasa tidak sedap hati. Apa gerangan sang ibu menyoal kesemua isi yang sudah dia ketahui? Makan sekali dengan sang ibu, membantunya menyiapkan kerja rumah juga sekali, yang mencuci baju pula si anak kecil tapi yang menjemur biasanya sang ibu kerana ampaian tinggi.

"Kamu tahu jam berapa sekarang?"
"Baru jam 4.20 petang, ibu."
"Baiklah. Kamu naik dulu. Solat asar."

Langkah kecil sambung berjalan menuju ke belakang rumah terus ke bilik mandi. Diambilnya gayung air dalam tempayan. Setiap pelusuk tubuhnya dibasahi air yang sedikit panas. Baju kotornya direndam di dalam baldi.

Kemudian dia naik ke atas terus ke biliknya. Kain tuala yang bergantung di hujung katil digapai. Tubuhnya dilap kering. Dia menuju ke tepi katil merapati meja belajarnya. Ada baju berlipat di situ. Dalam cepat mengambil pakaian solatnya, si anak kecil terlihat sebuah kotak. Bawahnya ada plastik baju. Kerana ingin tahu, keduanya diambil dan dibuka.

Ada sepasang baju baru dengan tanda harga sepuluh ringgit di dalam plastik itu. Seluar sukan juga ada. Di dalam kotak, ada peralatan tulis seperti pensil, pemadam, pembaris dan buku. Kesemuanya baru. Meskipun si anak kecil tahu bahawa hari itu bukan hari lahirnya atau hari istimewa sekalipun tetapi hatinya sungguh girang.

Bila sang ayah di depan biliknya, memanggil untuk solat bersama, si anak kecil terus berlari dan memeluk sang ayah. Dia memeluk erat dan berterima kasih berkali-kali. Si ayah membalas peluknya dan menyuruhnya untuk berterima kasih kepada sang ibu. Kerana dialah yang menceritakan barang-barang si anak kecil sudah agak lama. Hidup mereka bukanlah senang, tetapi cukup sekadar untuk berhidup seadanya. Jadi, bukanlah selalu barang si anak kecil dibeli baru.

Si anak kecil terus berlari ke arah ibunya di dapur dan mengucapkan terima kasih. Sang ibu memeluk erat si anak kecil yang satu. Dalam hatinya ada gembira merisik, sayangnya terhadap anak itu. Sang ibu melihat raut wajah si anak kecil dan tubuhnya kemudian ketawa sambil berkata, "Atan, pakailah baju baru kamu dulu nak. Janganlah berbogel berlari cari ibu."

Suasana itu disemat rapi dalam hati si anak kecil. Dalam langkah gembiranya menuju ke bilik, ada doa di kirim buat Tuhannya agar seluruh penghidupan ibu ayahnya diberkati.

Unheard Voices

I feel happy when I hear a kitten meows. When I can't see where the baby is, I try to find it. I love them so much. But not this one time.

I woke to fragile voices of kittens. Probably more than 1. I was tired and sleepy, I couldn't care less. But somehow, the sounds were desperate. I guess they were hungry. So, I walked outside to love them.

As I opened the door, the sight of three unattended kittens at the side of a wall was shocking. One thing I know that it is an unnatural spot for a mom cat to make a home. It's too public. Kitten meows were heavy than usual. Where's their mom cat?

I walked and came closer to one of them and took them to the tender of my palm. What a small creature he is. Who couldn't love such tiny animal? I looked at the other two. There were 2 black kittens and the other one was tortoiseshell. So, I guess the mom cat should have black-white-orange fur as well. But honestly, where is she?

As I gave them comfort, a growl came from the other side of the wall, beside a stair. There I saw a cage. For one moment, I felt devastated. The mom cat was in there. Her nose was bleeding. She was furious I can see it. She moved wildly in the cage responding to the sound of her babies. When she saw me, she growled again. It was a horrible sight. I tried to open the small cage but she aggressively moved to taunt me. She probably thought me as one of those pest control.

I lifted up the cage and carried and placed it right in front of the kittens. From a savage instinct, she stopped and calm down at the sight of her babies. Her big eyes revealed an unconditional love she has for her babies.

I tried to persevere. I came closer once again in an attempt to free her. She enraged again. I lifted the lock and opened the door slowly. She stayed cause it was too small, she couldn't get out. As I pushed the door to give more space for her to be free, a person came.

He was in charged of this uncivilised work. He was the one in power to make the separation between the mom cat and the kittens. He was killing an establishment of love. He was killing it, and I, alas, couldn't do anything until the very end. He was only receiving orders. He was paid. He had to.

I resolved myself, get a self-composure and walked back into my room. At my strength, even when I tried, I failed. But I can't just stop yet.

I want you to listen to the fragile voices of those kittens. If you can't see it, you can look what's closer but far away from you. Palestine and Syria, for instance. How many mothers have been taken away from young children? How many of them are killed? And how many silent voices unheard?

I went back to sleep in hoping for a dream. There, I happily live with the mom cat and the kittens.

Dasar

Dalam kesal usah bertangis
Menjawab soal sudah terbatas,
Hanya mampu dibiar habis
Rasa hati tidak berbalas.

Ada karma menyulam hati
Mencari sendu hancur mati,
Ada waktu tidaklah sakti
Kerna masanya sudah mati.

Masam kabur berulam kata
Bila jiwa sudah melatah,
Mungkin bukan untuk kita
Bila jiwa sudah melatah.

Ahh... Dasar jiwa muda.

by AmirullahZul
1.54am
Monday, 15 August 2016

Reading novels are day-dreaming? Baca novel berkhayal?

Few days ago, I have found a disturbing notion from a man of intellectual stating that reading novels are nothing more than dreaming. He used 'berkhayal'. In the Malaysian context, the word 'berkhayal' is often used to refer day-dream, hallucinating, or in a major crime of heavy drugs. This word is used to refer a negative portion of imagination.

I couldn't agree more (if);
If the novels are purely belletristic, unsophisticated, no moral values of all sort, then it benefits almost nothing to the reader, when all it offers is plain sensuous imagination to feed our lust and desire.

But in defense of novels and all other didactic writings, the notion has served injustice. The undivided negative bias towards books creates unnecessary rejection from the mass onto the intellectual diverse the didactic writings have.

Hence, here are 2 benefits of didactic writings to readers;

1. It builds up the creative imagination.
In this prospect, creative imagination gives room for our mind. This is the opposite of sensuous imagination that feeds emotions which deceive the safeguard of our nafs. Creative imagination, however, does feed our emotion but not to the extent of leading us to do unwanted physical or emotional reactions.

2. It gets you into critical point and gives you solution
We can always choose to read for leisure. But as readers, we always want something more. A critical point is a space for intellectual discussion. When you read something, there's something more to it but what is it? Often when I read, I find myself the question concerning my life. "Why did he do that?", "How could she do this!?", "What now?". And often too, these questions reflect the questions in my mind. When it reaches the mutual agreement between you and the author through these questions, we need answers. The book now has the responsibility to give answer through the stories. The answer is important. It either create solutions or creates more problems. Hence, that's why authors need to project good ideas in their writings.
"A book that kills should not be published."

These are my two points of view. Reading novels can always be beneficial and it doesn't necessarily leads us to 'berkhayal', day-dream, or hallucinating. All we need is a good book.

-----
Nafs - Nafs (نَفْس) is an Arabic word occurring in the Qur'an and means self, psyche ego or soul.
Belletristic - having a purely aesthetic function
Didactic - intended to teach, particularly in having moral instruction as an ulterior motive.

Midnight's Crisis

How fascinating midnight, for I was indeed in my timely motion, thinking of what I be in another 10 years. Time of time - just another sour taste of life with no subtle slot to find, with the least of intelligent, itself and acknowledging his stance. And so I too was here, taking thinking tools to create a versatile and profound foundation of me, trying to lose anxiety and fear.

"What am I for?"

"Why am I like this?"

"Where will I be?"

"How will I be?"

"Who will I be?"

Strike 2, a glazing from a dimming light had knocked me off these questions. Wait! This I found quite interesting. If I could be knocked off, I too could go back to where I was. Speaking existentially, the question of where will I be, with it, here I am! and I will be in my dream too! Then, I took my blessing disguise to create myself in an empty and free dream. Free of reality, I guess so.

I saw myself in there. I was sitting, of fresh but sullen dreamland, quite cozy, oh catly cozy. Yes! I thought I should have a thousand of cats. Then, came them, a thousand of cats, wiggling tails at me, how surreal. One sat on my dreamland and I asked him, while I pet him, of how lucky he being a cat! With a mind like mine, I had no regards of being a human. I was afraid of this, I hated that, oh I liked this one, but I can't have it - because people hated it. So, I had none of what I want then? I thought so. But you? You're just a cat. Let a human lay his hands on you and pet you as if there's no jungle of notes to discover! As if, as if there's no river of doubts to clean! No midnight's crisis! You're free from these questions!

And he looked at me. Like a panther with black veils but almost like a lion, angry one. He said,

"Have you not been eating good spicy chicken shawarma at Farouq? Kid, I've been trying to find good foods for my kittens since yesterday. Think again."

Oh, you witty mindful cat. I am sorry.

by AmirullahZul
2.30 pm
Saturday, 14 May 2016

Dingin Malam Ini

Dingin malam ini
saat ketahuan detik akhirnya
jarak tinggal sejenak kelip mata.

Dingin malam ini
bukan dingin menyenangkan
tapi membunuh ruang dimensi.

Dingin malam ini
hanya mampu aku cari
jauh terlihat dalam cerminan dimensi
saat hangat kamu hilang dari dakapku.

by AmirullahZul
12.15 am
Sun, Mei 8 2016

Rangga, Cinta, dan Kita

"Lebih mudah menyintai semua orang dari melupakan seseorang." (Rangga, 2016) #AADC2

Rangga, Cinta, dan Kita

Adakalanya Rangga,
cermin kritisnya tanpa Cinta
Tapi hatinya selamanya menyintai.

Adakalanya Cinta,
jahat menampar sang pujangga
tapi hatinya masih menyintai.

Adakalanya cerita yang berbeda itu
ada masanya terdinding menjarak,
dan sadisnya Kita alpa
yang punya kata yang sama
hanya kerna Cinta dan Rangga
bukan Kita lagi.

Tapi aku masih pasti dengan Kita,
walau bukan detiknya lagi,
aku yakin, ruang untuk Kita
masih ada.

by AmirullahZul
2.00 am
Fri, 6 May 2016

A Tale of A Demon Whisper

Speak to me none or 

Speak thou to my demon

Speak not of what we both for but

Speak for what we shall burn next

Speak as long as they speaketh 

Speak as we silent them unbreathed

Or if thou canst not, I shall whisper to thee

how to speak to my demon, my angel.

by AmirullahZul

6.30pm

Sun, May 1 2016

The Crow and The Pigeon

"Are we The Crow or The Pigeon?"

As the clock strikes ten, in my usual Monday blues, I have my morning rush to Romantic and Victorian class - a usual routine. The class starts at 10, yet there I am in my room, still packing up my things hastily. As soon as I'm done, I'm off to class.

I take the usual road, the same path every single day, and everything is the same - the day is fresh, the sun laid bare, cats in Mahallah Farouq having their regular yoga stretch, crossing the road seems fun, the busy ECONS Cafeteria and busy human, all in all, everything is the same as usual.

Then, I reach the Peace Ground and I look at one place where the pigeons eat in the evening, and they're not there yet. I remembered giving them foods like breadcrumbs, crunchy oats, sugary buns and other kinds of bread. The pigeons, although in groups, are very insecure. I can only give them foods but never have the chance to pet them, or at least play with them. It has been a while since I last feed them and I could have stopped for a while and give them some. But I was late and I guess they're still sleeping. No pigeons in the morning.

As I pass by the ground and The Grill Cafe, at the compound in front of the library, there I see, an unusual sight. Honestly, it is pretty unusual to see a kid playing with one crow. While her father looks at her from a distance, the kid poses funny actions and the bird watches her as if she was entertaining her and the crow stays to watch. I am still looking while taking my steps slowly as much as I can so these eyes can see that memorable sight.

As I walk away, I can not help myself. So, I turn 360 degrees to take a last glimpse of them playing together. Bless by God, I capture the best moment then. The kid takes her head closer to the head of the crow and almost kiss it. The Crow, surprisingly, stays and tilts its head, just like Toothless tilts his head to Hiccup to honour their friendship. It is spontaneous, cute and adorable, yet in my truest sense - honest and loyal.

I hope I stop at 180 degrees turn but I can't. I wish. So, I walk hastily again to class and I ask myself- why does the crow stay when she has offered nothing valuable but poses of funny actions? Yet, the pigeons fly away from me even though I give them foods?

If I have more time to contemplate this, I would stay in the library and I could write a critical essay. The crow has the same physical abilities like the pigeons - they are birds. They can fly whenever they want as long as their wings allow them to. The pigeons fly away when I feed them breadcrumbs, and the crow stays but the kid feed him nothing!

I have no answers yet. I am still contemplating. How unusual, the crow is.

by AmirullahZul
7.24 pm
Wednesday, 20th April 2016

Gelap

Mencari cahaya dalam malam tanpa kamu

tanpa sakit, tiada erti yang terlahir

Hanya luka malam berakhir

by AmirullahZul

1.50 am

Sat, 16 April 2016

The Monster Within

Has it come to this point in time
when I vent out all these thoughts
So, let them drive my emotions crazy?

Savage!
I am not a weak mortal.

"Yes, you are.
Caged! Consuming insanity pills
and madness will
take you
in"

Ah, I will not dwell with you again
or if I do, must I come to this point
again and again?

"Yes, you have to.
Released! Throw up
and curse your wills!"

Goodness, forsaken me for once.
I will let you in,
but spare me a sanity tho by a mask,
I will let myself out.

by AmirullahZul
1.05am
Wed, 13 April 2016

A Narrative of An Ugly Mind

Often I revolted myself into several eternal strings of thoughts where seldom priceless pains and anger emerge out of sanity. In great despair, I found myself scrounging connection of minds which I have never attained. The pains and anger molded in an empty mind that clustered with dark pasts, haunting the nights with sophisticated provoking thoughts, killing rationality and mortality.

Quoting from Poe's wisest thought in millennia, "I became insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity", has made me more or less of a depicted mind of primitive man by anthropologist Franz Boas. I have indulged myself into a constellation of deeper sanity with the rivalry of isolation in the vanity of human relation.

Have I attained imagery minds in the depth of deeper sanity?
"Yes, you have!", said an imaginary friend.

If ever I find myself clueless in despair again, I would escape in the depth of deeper sanity, and that's in dearest thought - of becoming insane.

by AmirullahZul
1.10 am
11 January 2016

Sounds

I'm drumming hard 

while soft and loud sounds 

ringing great calamity;

    Complexity sounds punching pianoforte, 

    elucidating rhythmic chastity I play.

Can this rhythm 

once played in monotone, 

reach your rich love sounds?

by AmirullahZul

12.24pm

25 Dec 2015

Insanity

Insanity storming in a midnight's dream,

Waving starstruck in its darkening beam.

by AmirullahZul

12.25am

27 Dec 2015

Flower and Wind

Once, there was a woman, standing on top of a hill every day. She had a beautiful white flower she picked daily on her way there through the valley.

On a windy evening, the flower she held blown away by a strong wind. Luckily, a man grabbed it and returned it to her.

He confessed that he liked her. She liked the man too. Since that day, they enjoyed the view together.

Days passed, and the man had to go as he spoke his cries to the woman. The woman gave him the flower and told him to take it as a gift. A gift that would suffice his longing when they're apart.

The man had nothing to give. So, he told the woman,"Stand still and feel the wind blowing. That means I'm missing you from afar."
and they bid farewell.

Months passed, the man came back. The woman, however, had married with another. She told her, the wind stopped blowing somehow and afraid he wouldn't miss her anymore. She was unsure, but she had to make choices.

The man was sad, leaving as soon as he gave her back the flower that had wilted and turned gray.

by AmirullahZul

Post Counseling

Assalamualaikum and greetings.

Before I begin my short and long writings, may I take this brief chance to wish you readers Happy New Year 2015. Year 2014 has passed and a new chapter begins, waiting to be designed by creative and innovative architect, modeled by young minds of engineer, write by hands of writers, and of course, you and me!

Now, let's continue from there. 

For the past few days, I have been in depression and developed high level of anxiety due to a recurring event that was not intended. I missed my examination paper. It was frustrating, as I have it written down, alarm set and yet I overslept. 

Because I don't want depression to eat my emotion from the inside, I went to get myself a counseling. I have it prepared but something happened, and I accepted that it was my fault. Something in this world is beyond our control. It was written, fated in another way, it teaches us. Allah has put us in a jumpy ride and feed us with tests, and I was reminded by Him. Sometimes, we need an alarm to wake us up.

Nevertheless, I love this subject very much. It's Expository Writing subject and definitely, I don't want to fail it. In advance, I have written an appeal letter and sent it to the deputy dean. I'm waiting for a response; perhaps in the beginning of next semester. I need your prayers, hoping that my appeal is accepted. 

With this, I assure you, either results - yes and no from the deputy dean, I will be Superman. A no won't make me feel sad. Well, of course, a bit but I'll be strong. I'll phoenix my way up and burn a grade A for that paper! 

Bismillah and Ameen.

So, pray for me? *wink wink* :D

Wrong Turn

Wrong Turn

Ocean won't rhyme with shore

And wave resonate no more

And so is mankind, nothing left to show

Long lost generosity

To the hell of inhumanity

Lirik Hidup?

Assalam and wassup manusia sekalian?

Yes yes... Agak lama dah aku tinggalkan blogger ni tidak berisi selama beberapa bulan. I've been through ups and downs yang expected dan parah berdarah menyakitkan aku. Oh nevermind that.

Aku sekarang cuti umum sedunia. Lebih dari 4 bulan, insyaAllah. Aku harap tak lebih dari tu. Sebab aku rindu UIA. Aku rindu fountain yang berkali-kali kena renovate, kucing dalam bilik, muka pakgad makgad hensem cantik dan garang, kedai ice-cream, sungai dan biawak, mimieow, Mahallah Bilal, kelab dan kehidupan, dan sebagainya. Okay fine dan rakan-rakan kesayangan - Izzat, Iqbal, Caeng, Kimi, QiQi, Ammar, Izzul, Ustaz, Zul, Wan, Marwan, Paan, Syamim dan lain-lain sekali la. Penat aku nak mention korang. Hahaha

I miss everything. Dan sudah pasti aku rasa

My Goose's Dream

My Goose's Dream

I fell, shattered, wounded

Like a glass full of air

It bleeds nothing

But I have dreams

I'll pour love

Bloom with red passion

And

I will fight, shine, win

by AmirullahZul

Assalam readers,

Time flies and my brain get rusty. Too much air, and I can hear empty can clinking, and guess who's the one responsible for that. These past few days, including the last few months, I have made a decision that would be one of the most hardcore life-changing and future-dependent. It was drastic, some people considered it as too late, wasting of times, and more on the emotional part, and I should stop listing it down now. 

I did it for the sake of who I am in the future. To please me, now and later on. I live in a society, or a bloodline that'd question me of what will I do with my graduation scroll, my degree, and of my days as a human, and in the end, I will be the one, not to please me, but to please others. 

I have dreams, and these dreams changes countless times - from childhood to adulthood, and when I get old, will I ever have one dream that I will live with? I can't guarantee. 

For everything, I am being me, doing something recklessly just for me. And others, if you have nothing else to say other than giving me discouragements, then please don't. I beg your mercy, give me supports. If you're holding my hands, you're one of a kind. 

Please, make du'a for my fresh application as an IIUM student.

In Soo In - Goose's Dream