Ah, techynology.

First, I would like to formally apologise for the past two weeks of my extreme emo-ness. Jeez, suck it up, woman! At this rate people would think I'm a pathetic emo with a pathetic life having a pathetic mental breakdown. Which, contrary to popular belief, i am not.

(ok, sometimes i am, but it's all because of the AUSMAT stress! But that's ok. Life goes on. God knows best. ^^).

Life is already so complicated, i don't know why i made it even more unbearable with my bucket-full of emo-ness. Holy macaroni..

ANYWAYS..

I have nothing particularly interesting to rant about this week.

But i guess i'll tell you about my new laptop which i got a few days before.. (awesome!)

It was Sunday, and i was sitting at the student house, doing nothing particularly interesting nor educational. Sundays only come once in a week, and i always reserve all my laziness to be spilled out on Sundays.. Bearing in mind, there WAS an economics assignment my group and i had to do, but it's SUNDAY.

Chill a little.. hehehheheheheheh..*evil laugh. ( Somehow i'd always come to regret this a few days afterwards... oh sweet irony.)

Lazing around i was, when suddenly i got this sms from my mom- "Dra, we're coming with your new laptop."

A brand spanking, mould-free, virus-free, new laptop for moi?? Really?

(My family PC is full of viruses and disgusting moulds.. don't ask me where they came from. I don't know, and don't want to know.. ) So really??

Really now?

Hurah! That's fantabulous! Really really awesome! *jumps up and down retardedly*

Though, it kind of took me by surpsrise since it was only the day before that i told my parents i maybe, "kinda" needed a laptop. And come Sunday~ shebang! A shiny new one. Thank you mom and dad. I'm lucky and i know i don't deserve it.

I couldn't stop smiling the whole day, thinking about my new laptop- what it would look like, what brand it would be, what colour it is-- (i've always wanted white.) I hope they didn't spend too much on it though. I hate it when people spend too much money on me; it's just this stupid mindset i have. It simply makes me uncomfortable. I like to earn things for myself, supposedly i'm "miss independent". Therefore when someone just buys things for me, i feel as if my independence is "stolen" somehow. It's weird and self-riteous isn't it? Like i've said, it's a stupid mindset..

Anyways, finally that afternoon, mom came with *my* new laptop in hand, and I came out of the house with that silly excited grin on my face. Thus i greeted the laptop. I mean, Mom. :D

Mom opened it and there he was.. My new beloved. Oh my, i can't describe how grateful and happy i was.. It's a black Compaq laptop and i think it's BEAUTIFUL. Edward Cullen buzz off! You don't stand a chance against my new darling laptop. hehe..

Maybe it's nothing special to you; in fact, i know "technically" it isn't the most well-equipped or most beautiful laptop in the world, but i love it nonetheless. It fits me. It's special because my parents bought it for me, and i've never really gotten something so expensive before.. And it's a laptop for God's sake. Who wouldn't want a parent-sponsored laptop right??

Obviously, i'll treasure it. I mean, obviously. As if you haven't read me rant about how much i l o v e it in these past few lines.

Here's a picture:

(i've decided to call it "Miko". Cute name, is it not?)

Better than Napolean at least. Haha, Nana just kidding.

Great! No more bothering my housemates in borrowing their laptops, no more snooping around people's PCs, no more making innocent "please can I.." faces to my friends whenever i want to go to the internet. Though i really appreciate their kindness in lending me their computers, i'm grateful i don't have to trouble them anymore. Oh, liberation!


I'm advanced!


With all my excitement, i'm sure you wouldn't have guessed that i actually hate technology. I think it's gotten to an extent where technology just seeps into every single crevice of our personal lives. it's annoying, it's just messy; with all those complicated wires and all. But i guess we can't avoid ot since it's become a necessity these days. I mean, I wouldn't have completed my Economics and Physics assignments without the computer.

However, I think sometimes life does get even more troublesome with all this technology. Though i do aknowledge that it does indeed bring certain benefits to society, it's nonetheless irritating when you have to do this and that just for simple, menial tasks; like adjusting the freaking spacing in Microsoft Word. (Or maybe i'm just not good at it, which i guess is a more plausible cause of me hating it. Meheh. )

Another GREAT example is video editing. My groupmates and i can attest to this. God knows how many times we had to restart the computer; or how many times we lost our data just because of a stupid glitch or a small mistake. Sheesh.. technology.

I hate handphones too. Those SMSes--they're so impersonal. I like talking better. That's why i didn't want a handphone until i entered college, where it became a necessity. I used to have a secondhand handphone when i was 14, but i gave it away since i hated the fact that people can contact (i.e. bother) me anywhere i go. It's so restricting. I guess i just prefer having my own personal time for myself, not spending it on replying text messages. Plus, my fingers get sore after a while of pressing handphone keys. Haha. (Whiny..)

Whatever happened to letters anyway? I think it's a great way to personally connect with friends. It far better than boring SMSes and impersonal friendster comments. With letters you get to touch the same paper the sender has touched; feel the curves of their handwriting, laugh at the doodles they drew themselves. Much better. I think letters are very romantic in their own way. In a way that typed words can never match.

Sadly, letter-writing isn't really practiced anymore nowadays. I must admit i'm a hypocrite also, since i no longer write letters as often as i used to. There are two letters i wrote to my friends that i wanted to send, but forgetfulness and time always gets in the way.. *sigh*.

That said, i'm still happy with my little Miko here-- since now i can go to the net and research without bothering people like the parasite that i am.. :)



I hate technology, but i hate it less now.

Here's to the beginning of a (hopefully) long and prosperous relationship between me and my Miko!
Meloves you long time...

PS- This is the first blog post that i've written using Miko! Huray for us~~

Poems..

I like poems. I used to write a lot of them, but then my computer broke down one day, and all my saved poems were GONE. Yeah, so that pretty much made me all wary of writing poems in the computer.. It's a shame nowadays that i don't write poems anymore.. It was fun back then. I don't know why i stopped. I guess i was afraid people would read it; and it's better to express myself in drawings-- where only I myself would understand what i was trying to say..



Anyway.. I've found this poem on someone's blog.. I think it's very beautiful. I really enjoy reading war poems. There's something special, and sad and poignant about them. They're really the very few things on this earth that can melt my icy, stone-cold heart. :P Bah.



*Love poems are overrated; they're beautiful too, but most are just plain CORNY and unoriginal. Pleh.




So here; read. It's nice..

*I'd like to dedicate this poem to my dad; Jeannot Bin Abdul Karim.. Luv you.


(I didn't write this though..)



The old man was bent over his desk,

His silver hair gleaming under the candlelight,

He was writing quite feverishly,

With smudged fingers and bad eyesight,

He was writing a letter to his son, you see,

He missed him very much,

But his son has not written back,

In thirteen years or such,

"I'm so proud he joined the army,

But he had to go away,

He was stationed elsewhere, you see,

And he left without delay.

There was a huge pile of letters on the man's desk,

All of them unopened,

All had "return to sender" stamped on them,

All were to his son.

The old man fell sick that winter,

And he never got better,

Although he was covered in his letters,

"Please tell my son I'm sorry,

That he will be all alone.

Tell him I died happy,

That I died safe and warm".

He wheezes,

And wrapped the thin blanket around his blanket,

He lay back on his mattress,

And closed his eyes for eternity,

I cleaned his room after the funeral,

And looked through things.

A letter had come from camp twelve years ago,

It had been left unseen.

It read,

"Dear daddy,I'm dying from a gunshot wound,

And I won't be getting better,

I love you,

Never forget that,

Live a long and happy life,

That's all I ever wanted,

I'm getting very dizzy now,

Everyone is gone,

That's all i had to say,

Love forever,

Your son".













Isn't it so sad and touching~~ hwaaaaaaa.....~~~ (If you don't feel anything; you're a hollow; hollow person.. haha.)


By the way; here's my favourite war poem. It's called Flander's Field, written by John McCrae.

http://www.constitutional.net/flanders_field.html

http://www.greatwar.nl/frames/default-poppies.html



That's all~

How unthankful..

.. that I shroud myself in all this sadness, I forget to see all the wonderful things surrounding me..

I might just get a heart attack.. ( Oh no, not an emo post.)

This week, especially, has been so taxing..

In all, i'd say i've been through a roller-coaster ride-- mentally, emotionally, physically.. & all those things in between. The documentary thing almost drove me (and my groupmates) to madness-- not because we did last minute work-- it's because of thet DARN computer that keeps getting stuck every minute. Sometimes i think i might just get a heart attack from all this worrying, and stressing and bad exam results.

I mean really, how is it that i really gave it my all; tried my darn hardest, and all i got were ridiculously disappointing marks?? I don't get it.
And then i see people who didn't really study for it get such good marks. How?? How does that even happen? I wonder at times, "Am i just stupid? Maybe i am." (Depressing, i know.. Pathetic--definitely.)

I think nowadays i suffer from mild depression. I cry in the shower sometimes--that way no one will know and they don't have to worry about me. I mean, other people have their own problems as well, and they don't have time to burden themselves with mine. It's not that my friends aren't supportive, it's just that i like to settle my own problems by myself.

Whenever i'm alone, i suddenly have the urge to cry. Sometimes when my roomie isn't home, i cry on my bed. Sometimes i don't know WHY i even cry.. It's so weird, i feel as though there's this emptiness inside of me, but it's also full of pain as well.. So hard to explain.
There are some other problems as well, but they are too personal to post it in my blog here.

I want to go home, it's been a month (or is it more?) since i've been home. Home used to be my refuge from all this stress. But at the same time i don't want to go home because it only brings pain when i see her face and i hear them whisper as if i don't l know what's going on.. (Ok, i think this is getting too personal so i'll move on..) So i don't go home, period.

But then mom calls and she says "when are you coming home sweetie pie?" and i say i have a lot of assignments to do. Which is true sometimes, but i usually just lie since i don't want to go home and tell them how i've let them down with my amazingly poor exam results. I don't want to see their dissappointed faces. It's hard for me. They're counting on me and how can i let them down??

Drawing.. owh.. what joy it is to indulge in my ultimate passion if only i have the time. I haven't been drawing sinceI don't know when. I miss having the feel of the white, empty paper on my palms, the smell of it.. the pencil; moving whichever way i want it too. No rules, no formulas- no right , no wrong. Just art. And art doesn't judge.

It's the best time for me to escape; i could draw from 8 p.m. until 4 a.m. in the morning. For all those hours, i feel that i've gone into another world; some other place where reality is but a mere afterthought. Everything is possible. Nothing is too ridiculous. Some drawings seem ugly but they are beautiful to me because i felt something when i draw them. Some drawings seem beautiful but they have other meanings known only to me... I miss drawing.

But then, if i start to draw i'm afraid i can't stop-- and that'll be another problem altogether bearing in mind those FUN assignments that i have to do.
If only those art students at KBU knew how much i ENVY them, and their huge protfolios and drawings, and "artsy" projects. I want that too...

I'm "rimas" ("restless" / "tired of" in Bahasa) of many things sometimes;
I'm rimas of the mess on my desk
I'm rimas of all my AUSMAT assignments
I'm rimas of all these exam results haunting me
I'm rimas of this constant worrying
I'm rimas of those guards who keep peeping inside our house and harassing my housemates
I'm rimas of the van driver who promised to pick us up at 12.30, but never did
I'm rimas of having to walk to college alone because i don't have a bike
I'm rimas of the mangy dog who keeps following me when i walk alone--SERIOUSLY SCARY
I'm rimas of those "cool" people who don't even realise that they're acting like baffooons, and can't even give a smile to those who smile at them..
I'm rimas of this feeling of being rimas; because it feels bitter and its not good for the soul.

I wish i was a better person. You know, one of those people who reads the *Yassin in the van, Those really strong and wise people who know exactly what they are doing.

*Yassin-- a long verse in the Quran.

But i cry in the shower. This is what i do.

And my hair is falling extensively these past few days-- it means only one thing; that i'm excessively stressed. This always happens when i'm really depressed. During SPM i had this problem for a while too..

I know i'm an ungrateful , immature old crank-- but sometimes i wish i could just escape away from all this. Sometimes when i'm drinking Milo at the cafe, i feel like i want to run away, pack my bags, hop on a train-- and just travel and be a nomad for the rest of my life. How unrealistic.

But i'm trying my best move on.

There's a quote i read somewhere that goes " It's easy to be depressed, and angry and sad. It's a brave choice to be happy".
(See i've even memorised it now, because i keep repeating it to myself so that i don't break down in the middle of the crowd). Sheesh, i wish i could get this lingering sadness off of me. It's so tiring to feel sad all the time and hide it from people. I guess writing it in this blog will ease the pain a bit somehow.

So yes. I don't want to take the easy path-- i want to take the brave path. I want to be happy; i choose to be happy. At college i'm trying to be happy; at the student house i try my best to be positive. It doesn't erase the pain, but it does make me less sad. Sometimes i still cry in the shower, but it's lesser now. I can't be negative, i must be strong for my family, for my friends, especially for myself.

I'm holding on. Trying not to crumble because this is all God's test to me.
I will try my best again, and if that fails; well at least i'd have no regrets.

~end.

Haiyah! Be strong!