Coffee

I’d rather stay inside than being out tonight
Just sipping coffee and nothing to look forward to
Savouring my solitude
And no one will ever know you the way I do

 

In high definition I’m dreaming of you
With my disposition I’m losing my cool
With my everything I’d give anything to be with you

 

And I will try my best to let it subside
I’m letting go without taking any part of
Something what my heart truly wants
And no one will ever see you the way my eyes do

 

Disclaimer: well I definitely do not own any of this *DUH*

but it does convey every inch of what I’m feeling, though. So there it is :>

Zia‘s (click!) the one who introduced me to this nice tune,

like every other songs she recommended me,

(the girl got some taste!)

Coffee by Yuna the inspiring hijabi singer-songwriter from Malaysia.

“Women are consumed with the idea of finding a gentleman not because we wish to revive gender roles or maintain the classic ideas we have about masculinity, but because we want someone with good character and automatically associate that with gender.”

- Shelby Strickland -

“We don’t want to destroy all of you menfolk, but those darn meninists are onto us. We may never admit it but we’ll miss you, our big strong pickle jar openers,”

−College Humor, everyone.

The Sweet Escape

Gah, such a cheesy post title (which is inspired by the majesty Gwen Stefani) BUT WHATEVER I DON’T CARE MOM I MEAN WORDPRESS

The reason I like my room so much is because you can gaze to the open sky from the top of my bed. Of course you do that for hours and you’ll get neck cramps (well that goes for you nerds cause, needless to say, I’ve already mastered it). At days like this where the sun is out on vacation (to probably Gili Trawangan), my blanket and hot chocolate in my favourite cup will fight to be my best friend (Cause ain’t real people will. Hhhh). You know, great people are the ones who dares to get outside of their comfort zone and bare with stress to actually do something and achieve things. I will always keep that in mind. But God how I need my escapades.

To escape is to break free from confinement or control. Have that temporary distraction from reality or routine, and you can find your escape in the littlest things.

I for instance find escape in internet wasteland such as 9GAG, buzz feed, college humour, and people’s blogs. I find escape in looking at our photos together. I find escape in my guitar. And when the storm hits, my sole escape would be my journal, where everything unfiltered (that mostly consists of crying myself to sleep, swearing, and other bigotries) that needed to thrown out, goes. I guess you have to get your mind waste else where to stay positive, well that’s how I get by.

On the worst definition, escaping is a state of mind when you don’t want to grow up and be self-centered. Sometimes I am struggling to find a reason to unescape, and get out from that mind-vacation. Because when that happens too long I’ll be this dork who literally doesn’t give a fuck about everything (like literally everything) no matter how it concerns everyone.

So that’s where Jumin comes in. See, Jumin is a somewhat alter ego I’ve developed since 8th grade (another prestigious products from Madina days). She’s the yin to my yang. The Blair Waldorf to the upper east side social climbers, The Sue Sylvester to my glee club. The every mean character you can imagine that’s a pain in the ass and will insult your existence and do mean things to you. Basically every time I slack off I got Jumin to whip my ass right back on track. The counterproductive part is that sometimes the critics are too strong that nothing gets done (because too busy self-shaming that’s why…….)

So with this lab works starting next week and also midterm coming in a week or two, I guess I would recommend a healthy escape in everyday or two for everyone so that I won’t be the only one who’s slacking off, but you better not get lost in that limbo you call “comfort” or you’d get whipped by queen Jumin!

By the way, speaking of escapes,

I’LL BE SEEING THESE TWO THIS MONTH:

WHO’S THE ESCAPEE NOW? HA! (wait, still me…)

P.S. Just an FYI that talking to you used to be one of my escapes. (complaining happily with love)

Silence and Sun

Perplexed Proses

I wanted to love you in silence. In the dark, you see—in the blackness that filled the void years after my father left me into his coffin. In the lack of illumination that was supposed to put me to sleep at night but instead took my breath away. A little, at least. Tears of fondness nested at the tip of your eyes but I wouldn’t let anyone meet even a debris of it.

You asked why. I said I didn’t have a reason.

I just knew I wanted to love you in the winter. In the chilling weather—with the city wind that clings herself to your shoulder, inviting unwanted shivers—opening doors for occasional cold. I wanted to love you as the sun stopped shining, along with the leaves that abandoned their father Old Tree, one after another.

I just knew I wanted to keep you in my own pocket: every…

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Why I am not Charlie

This is the post that can finally relates to what it’s like to be, not only a Muslim, but a human being, responding to this issue.

We’re facing, what my dear friend Tofan called, a social Bias that polars wether you’re an inhumane barbarian who by the way opposes anyone not under your voice, or you’re with the rest of the good guys of the universe where free speech is loudly spoken so let’s create hate and anger upon a certain community which is totally acceptable by our standard.

So yeah, everyone with a moral is sorry for the lost, violence is never the answer let alone murder, we are indeed supposed to give empathy to the lost of the 17 lives in the France killings, but #JeSuisCharlie NOT.

Free speech, yes.  Hate speech, no.

P.S. SPOILER: Voltaire didn’t actually wrote his popular saying

a paper bird

There is no “but” about what happened at Charlie Hebdo yesterday. Some people published some cartoons, and some other people killed them for it.  Words and pictures can be beautiful or vile, pleasing or enraging, inspiring or offensive; but they exist on a different plane from physical violence, whether you want to call that plane spirit or imagination or culture, and to meet them with violence is an offense against the spirit and imagination and culture that distinguish humans. Nothing mitigates this monstrosity. There will be time to analyze why the killers did it, time to parse their backgrounds, their ideologies, their beliefs, time for sociologists and psychologists to add to understanding. There will be explanations, and the explanations will be important, but explanations aren’t the same as excuses. Words don’t kill, they must not be met by killing, and they will not make the killers’ culpability go away.

To abhor what was done to the victims, though, is not…

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