I had always wondered if there will ever come a time for me to actually step out of tanah airku for as long as I still breathe. Though I was told that I had been to Singapore before but apparently I was still a baby then - one that I had no clear, and vivid memory of. I could barely speak then, let alone walk, therefore it's almost too impossible for me to trace any available memories of me being physically there. Hence, I wouldn't count it as me having been to another country before. Alhamdulillah. I guess Allah swt heard my prayers, I was blessed with a chance to travel out of the country for the very first time in my entire existence (and without my family's presence). When this opportunity arose I honestly didn't want to lose it, although it was pretty hard to convince Ayah of allowing me to go to Singapore. You see, Ayah had always been protective and careful of me whenever I decide to go out without him but as I grow older, his protection over me is reduced...
I love writing. But I humbly admit that my writing skills, or lack thereof, is mediocre, nothing too exceptional or extraordinary. However, I feel more comfortable when I write (or in this case, type) as compared to talking. Words just seem to flow better and smoothly as I write. I get nervous when I have to speak, and my mind tend to get cluttered right when I'm in the midst of a conversation, thus, disabling me to find the right words to speak. I was worse when I was younger though (psh I meant when I was still a child. I'm not old yet !!). It was almost too impossible to hear a single word coming out my mouth, let alone forming a cohesive sentence. The words just miraculously got stuck in my throat, as if something was holding it back from making a long-awaited appearance. I was that bad . And for that, I felt small in a world where extroverts are highly favoured and socially acceptable. It wasn't a competition between the loud and the quiet anymore. The world felt...
Saw this sijil and it immediately brought me back to earth. I remember feeling restless at the camp. My heart thumped unusually and I broke out into profuse sweat. Could be because it was my first time being away from home. Away from my family. Signs of homesickness I presumed. A new feeling. But the next thing I knew, life took its own course the following week. And everything just fell into place and gave meaning to my restlessness. I lost the one person who had Paradise beneath her feet. My Mimi. This certificate, it exists not as a form of nostalgia nor a form of sentimentalism. It exists to remind me that in a span of short period of time, anything could happen or be taken away from me, granted that they are actually lent to me. But of course, everything that happens has already been written, Maktub. Every shape or form that we possess in this life are not ours. Even our own selves. Eventually, everything belongs to Allah swt and it's only fair if He decide...
cepat cepat update AMMMMYYYYYY ! ahaha
ReplyDeleteHaha later laaaa I so malas :P Haahahahaha
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