Love is a dress that you made, long to hide your knees.

Love and some verses;

isn't that just the sweetest, most subtle song ever?

here's something about apology : it has to be done sincerely.

say you've done something that made someone mad or annoyed someone

and it is apparent that the person is annoyed and mad.

Well for you it is a small thing, the person over reacted. tapi whatever lah kan, you still say sorry-

but mumbles, dengan muka ketat, without eye-contact, while walking away.

well,

memang sampah.

bukan kau. tapi apology kau tu.

If you don't feel sorry, katalah sebab kau tak rasa dia patut marah ke, or sebab kau tak ada mood ke, or sbb kau tengah nak rush ke or sebab your mind is somewhere else ke or anythinglah, then don't say that you're sorry.simple.

Otherwise you'll execute it so halfheartedly that it would just become something to cringe at.

If its a small stuff and kau rasa tak patut dia marah, then just say so lah, maybe org tu boleh explain kenapa dia sangat annoyed dgn small stuff tu. Tapi kalau kau malas,

then you should just keep quiet. Besides, mesti kau pun ada rasa marah sedikit masa tu sbb rasa orang itu tak patut overreact.So, tak payah extend apology insincere kau tu. Dah lah orang tu tengah panas, lagi lah bertambah panas dia lepas dengar your brand of sorry.

Better kau biarkan je dulu. Biar dua-dua cool.

Memang lah dia akan bagi kau cold shoulder sekejap. Kau expect apa? Namapun kau dah buat salah, tak kiralah intentionally or unintentionally.

Tapi lepas tu ok kan.Kejap je, lepas tu boleh bercakap macam biasa.

But if you still insist on saying sorry,

please try to be more sincere.

We are not kids anymore yea?

okthanksbye.

Everybody's a-changing.

we go through everyday without realising

that everything we once were is eroding.bit by bit.

and are replaced by something else.

Not necessarily good or bad.

That's normal.

what i found out today.

oh patutlah sudah hampir dua minggu parents tidak mencari saya.

mereka honeymoon.

-_-

hei, kau siapa?

i listened

while you enumerate

part by part of me

as if i was a clay sculpture

that needs to be improved.

I want to get to the bottom of you

I will peel layer by layer,
little by little.

I will pick and scratch;

and pick and scratch;

and pick and scratch;
'til there's nothing left.
I will study each piece keenly,

trace the patterns,

learn them by heart.

I will wrap them in golden papers,

tuck them safely in my pocket.

This may take ages,

maybe an eternity,

I will not back down.

And when I get to the bottom of you,

I will stay.

in the end, i only know what i can see.

teacups bangles lemons sunshine.

everything looks fine from across here.

why are you so unhappy?

of 12 hour ride, bodyache, a weekend gateway of sort and an all round good time.

hi.

we didn't manage to do much but..

best kan??

it would have been a bore if it was just me so,

thank you for the good time.

we should do this more often!

love;

buddy

damn it! (just one of those moments where you wish you were that somebodyelse)

you were so eloquent with that i don't care attitude wrote the most beautiful words so pretty you were the coolest thing i was transfixed and for a moment there,

i wish i was you.

i wish i was you.

***

meet barb,

Kawan saya.

Manis macam maple syrup,

cool macam cucumber.

Akan gelak dgn comel bila org call dgn loud-speaker,

sambil nyanyi lagu birthday ramai2.

(Juga berkemungkinan untuk dibahan kerana post ini)

Happy Birthday Barb!

Untuk semua yg saya rindu.

If puddles on the street

evaporates to particles

then those particles turn

into cloud, into rain;

If Boreas Notus Zephyr and Eurus,

Blows to the south north east and west.

Carrying with them changing seasons;

flakes, dust and scents

of places before;

If the ocean are but one-

Pacific Atlantic Southern Indian and Arctic;

the water here,

is the water there.

And when you

journeyed down one road

and I,

on other.

And the leaves that you touch

crumbles into flakes;

into dust.

And the rain that falls onto you as

you ran reaching for cover,

becomes puddle on the street.

And the ocean saw your feet,

running through its waves.

And your laughter and your chatter,

your smell and your cheer,

gets caught in the swirls of the wind.

Then you,

my dear;

are in the morning dew on

my window pane

in the flakes that got stuck in

my hair

in the scents that i smell

in the dust on every surface

in the comforting afternoon breeze

in the ocean that i bathe in.

I can hear your laughter in the gale.

-inspired by the poem 27 by nerisa del carmen guevara.

Thought up during a languid afternoon class and written with several people in mind - rindu!

Margaret Atwood.

I like this poem. It has an elaborate way of saying "deal with it."

A sad child.

You’re sad because you’re sad.
It’s psychic. It’s the age. It’s chemical.
Go see a shrink or take a pill,
or hug your sadness like an eyeless doll
you need to sleep.

Well, all children are sad
but some get over it.
Count your blessing. Better than that,
buy a hat. But a coat or pet.
Take up dancing to forget.

Forget what?
Your sadness, your shadow,
whatever it was that was done to you
the day of the lawn party
when you came inside flushed with the sun,
your mouth sulky with sugar,
in your new dress with the ribbon
and the ice-cream smear,
and said to yourself in the bathroom,
I am not the favourite child.

My darling, when it comes
right down to it
and the light fails and the fog rolls in
and you’re trapped in your overturned body
under a blanket or burning car,

and the red flame is seeping out of you
and igniting the tarmac beside your head
or else the floor, or else the pillow,
none of us is;
or else we all are.

Margaret Atwood.

Taken from here where you can find a delightful mishmash of words.

beneath those colorful clutter, i'm sure u'll find ur thing. or two.

plight of the musically blind.

Milan Kundera's the joke page 130-131

(on moravian folk tunes and tonalities, explanation on its quirkiness and curiosity, complete with a few bars of music notes.)

Tak Paham Langsung.

From bengaluru, with love;

It's that time of the year again.

Takbir Raya.Rendang.Berkumpul ramai-ramai.

As im typing this, the house is filled with the smell of kerisik.

The clanking and cluttering sounds from the kitchen.

Occasional burst of laughters from the housemates,

-All the signs and symptoms of a celebration. Yeay!

Happy Eid al Adha everyone.

Selamat Hari Raya Haji to everyone at home.

And i guess, there's never a wrong time to also say

maaf zahir batin :)

So far, so good.

we eat a lot!

munch munch munch.chomp chomp chomp.

the weighing scale is having a field day.

food lovers we are.

and the first response i get whenever i turn on the web cam is "nadiah dah tembam gila!"

pffft.okfine.

for pictures and further description please click here.

now excuse me while i go in search of more food.

Resolution.

I promise.

The next time around,

i'm gonna do it right.

Better. at least.

Afterall, kita jatuh kita belajar :)

orang, kalau dah serabut tu, serabut juga.

silent!
i need a moment to think.
stop that pacing
halt those pointless ramblings
make that fan stop spinning.

what's that ticking?

who is drumming?

and you, with that chatter!

i can still hear you whisper!

silent i say

i need to think.

ineedtothink!

...













but even this silence
is deafening.

I wont put this up if its not worth watching.

This is just CRAZY cute. crazy.

superiority and all that crap.

there're just so much we haven't seen.
heard.
feel.
but sometimes we forget.
for that,
we need to be reminded.

Norah Jones and her short hairdo are perfect for each other.

and im certainly too lazy to upload a pic.

you're an empty cave.

you who echoes others' thoughts and opinion

don't you have a mind of your own?

So what's the story, morning glory.

It always amazes me that some people can quote something out from the books that they've read just once. Because i very very very rarely, can.

I rush when i read. A habit of mine that i have had since as far back as i can remember. In fact, most of the time, i feel like i had only manage to gather enough details to link me from one chapter to another without feeling lost. Although this does allow me to read pretty much all i want despite time constraints, i can't help but imagine all those subtle words and nuances that i missed-the little details that makes up the whole story. I feel shortchanged!!

Because reading is not just about finding out the ending. Nor is it just about being able to recount the whole story when someone asks about it. It is about immersing oneself in the language that tells the story, and enjoying it as well.
It is not just about understanding what the writer is trying to tell. It is also about savouring the words that the writer chose to tell her story with.

Imagine if the pages of words is a painting. A quick glance might be able to tell you what the painting is all about- a cottage by a meadow.
But after a closer study, you'll see the peeling paint of the cottage, the weathered roof, the window with one of the green shutters left open and the sheer powder blue curtain that peeks from the openings. And then you'll begin to appreciate how the painter had painstakingly painted minuscule patterns on the sheer curtain and the surroundings of the cottage and how he plays with the colour of the sky so that it would look as if the clouds were illuminated by the rays of lights piercing it.
But the way i'm reading, i might as well have given a sweeping look at the painting and miss that curious looking purple flower by the gravel. Or that tinge of yellow in the sky. Or how bare the meadow would look without that lonely cypress tree at the corner...

shucks. i missed a lot, haven't i?

i started reading Chekhov and knows the meaning of pedagogy because of this man's books.

rest in peace Mr Frank McCourt, sir.

comfort food vs. er, comforting nicotine ?

personally,
between a pack of cream-crackers and a stick of ciggie,
i'll pick the cream-crackers anytime. obviously.

dependency on comfort food is just another type of addiction. eh?

you're still so pretty.

and i still do the same stuff i usually did.

*pic by garance dore.

a morning post.

via FFFFOUND!

i have a love-hate relationship with late at nights.

i love the stillness of late at nights and the privacy it has to offer. I love the way that i am the only person in the room and everyone else is sound asleep. When the only sound i hear is the fan and the silence of the world outside. When i can let my mind wander and wander and wander and there would be no one to break my train of thoughts.

i hate how easily late at nights can make me feel so alone, of how cold it feels when i'm too upset to fall asleep. I hate it that temporarily, i would have no one to talk to if i needed someone to talk to. I hate how suppressed memories seems to ambush me during these hours. I hate it when i'm stuck with a pile of unfinished work and everyone else is dreaming away, it's just so spirit-dampering. I hate late at nights during exam time, i hate it more when what i had to read seems to have no end.

there's poetry hidden in every situation no matter how hurtful, or bad, or worth forgetting the situation is. sometimes, we're just too caught up in our own misery to be able to see it.
those poetry aren't always necessarily exquisite. it could be crude, satirical, funny. but it always will bring justice to an experience. And then somehow, when you get it, what happen to you will not seem as bad.
try, and you'll see.

Life should be a beach.

Whom every kid (and adult) should read.

Shel Silverstein is one of my favorite writer.I had one of his book as a kid and I loved it. I rediscovered him a few months back and haven't stop reading his work since. This is whatif, one of his manymany delightful poem.I deliberately chose this video because i can't find any other audio in which they use shel silverstein's voice reading it and what a voice it is!~



whatif by Shel Silverstein.

Last night, while I lay thinking here,
some Whatifs crawled inside my ear
and pranced and partied all night long
and sang their same old Whatif song:
Whatif I'm dumb in school?
Whatif they've closed the swimming pool?
Whatif I get beat up?
Whatif there's poison in my cup?
Whatif I start to cry?
Whatif I get sick and die?
Whatif I flunk that test?
Whatif green hair grows on my chest?
Whatif nobody likes me?
Whatif a bolt of lightning strikes me?
Whatif I don't grow talle?
Whatif my head starts getting smaller?
Whatif the fish won't bite?
Whatif the wind tears up my kite?
Whatif they start a war?
Whatif my parents get divorced?
Whatif the bus is late?
Whatif my teeth don't grow in straight?
Whatif I tear my pants?
Whatif I never learn to dance?
Everything seems well, and then
the nighttime Whatifs strike again!

a quickie.

pic frm garance dore

I.WANT.THAT.SHOE.
(since obviously there's no chance of me having that kind of body.)

ho-hum.

maybe this is just because im a sucker for happy endings or maybe because the way the story goes IS stupid or maybe its both. But drag me to hell is disappointing lah.
Thing is i've seen 1408, the version which john cusack died in the end, and not the version in which he lives.and that still doesn't stop me from liking the movie a lot.
but this one, haish. unfairlah.

brothers bloom on the other hand, although it does has its huh?what's this moments, it still is such a sweet.sweet.sweet.movie. with a poetic ending to boot!
suka!!


don't let my rant change your mind though.
Afterall, to each their own.

Here's looking at you kid.

pic from glam canyon via travinia

Look at the fabric of the dress. The top was maybe the thai-silk type,nice deep-gold and black. But look at the ruffles of the dress!It was of flashy gold color!! and i think (this is from what i see, mind u i'm not an expert in fabric at all) it's the cheap synthetic crumpled alluminium-y type of fabric.

Anyway, doesn't matter what i think the material of the fabric was. Point is, usually i would've skip that kinda fabric, would just dismiss the fabric as effing tacky. Heck, i wouldnt even have given it a second thought let alone bother to think of a way to make a dress out of it.

But look at this dress now. It has a nice vintage-fun kinda quality about it no? And the gold ruffles was made from a fabric i would usually pass off as cheap, and it was actually the thing that makes the whole outfit edgy. Imagine if the ruffles were replaced with some gold fabric of a more muted golden color (which is usually deemed less tacky). Oh i'm sure the outfit would still be nice to look at, but then it wouldn't be as edgy in fact it will be just like any other nice dress and i'd forgotten about it the next day, is what i think.

The intention of the post was actually to share how i felt about the dress and that's all. sort of the I like it, so i post it on the blog thing. But what i've typed has got me thinking that i've caught myself being guilty of inflexible thinking on outfit related issues on a couple of occasion.

The aforementioned gold dress and its (non) tacky choice of fabric is a good example. See, i've set in my mind that the type of fabric comes off as cheap and tacky. So i steer clear of it, put it in my mental list of untouchable stuff and made a pledge to never have anything to do with it.ever.That way, i never consider it ever again.

The truth is yes, in most cases the fabric would come off as cheap and tacky and appalling even. But if something isn't right for one thing, it doesn't mean that it is not right for another and that gold dress just proves the point. Same thing goes with a lot of stuff deemed passe or last season. Maybe they are passe but hey, no need to write them off completely. Afterall, everything is for something, right? Try wearing them differently, mix and match, a little alteration here and there and who knows i might have a winner in hand? The trick is to be more flexible.
Alas, that's what i have to keep reminding myself.Over and over and over.

Oh well, how long do you reckon it'll take to break a lifetime of habit?

picture yourself in a boat on a river, with tangerine trees and marmalade skies..

Buildings with strong, clean lines can be nice and sophisticated. But after a while of seeing almost the same designs in mundane black,white, grey and brown, you'll begin to think: "gimme some colour!, details! gimme whimsy kitsch!"; And that's when chinatown in K.T comes in.
-it'll make you smilesmilesmile to no end.
And because you don't have a camera with you the first time, the next day you'll drag your reluctant sister along to the place and this time, you'll get so excited, you'll go click-happy like a monkey on crack.

juxtaposition.

There are people that i observe from afar and sometimes envy,
and then there are people whom i admire and would like to get to know better.
There is almost always less probability of me actually conversing with the latter.

For well you know that it's a fool who plays it cool by making his world a little colder.

Look at what i found!

so today i've been sent on a wild goose chase and i'm certainly not amused.pfffft!

plus all the while i've been mentally telling myself to be more assertive but oh well, i'll try better next time.

on a muchmuchmuchmuch brighter note! i'm looking forward the end of the month and then i can kiss this place a big fat sloppy veryvery cheerful goodbyeeeeeeeee.
oh well, maybe not quite yet, but i certainly am getting there. OMGOMGOMG!!!!



hahaha.forgive me but these whole 3 years have felt like a big long pause and now the 'play' button is about to be hit, so yeah, you bet i'm excited!

i refuse to jog today.

the heat is just intorelable!i honestly think its summer now in malaysia.
and i didn't think it was even possible in the first place. oh.panasnye.

but the sky takes my breath away.not a cloud in sight.
sigh.

i'm thinking.contemplating.

i should cut my hair.

short.
shorter.

Escape.

We're going out tonight.
Pitch black eye-liner,
slick on the mascara.
Deep eyes.deep eyes.
Everything else bare.
Dress up and dress well,
put on the boots, strap on the purse.
-put on a smile,
a stare,
a wink or two.
Laughters and giggles aplenty.
Have a drink, get the ciggs.
Let's forget who we are
and be someone else
just for the night.

Kelakar dia ni.

"Because days were so long and so little occurred.... i knew more things in the first ten years of my life than i believe I have known at any time since.I knew everything that was to know about our house for a start. I knew what was written on the underside of the tables... i knew and could take you at once to any illustration of naked women anywhere in our house, from a Rubens painting to fleshy chubbos in Masterpieces of World Painting to a cartoon by Peter Arno in the latest issue of the New Yorker to my father's small private library of a girlie magazines in a secret place, known only to him, me, and one hundred and eleven of my closest friends, in his bedroom."

Bill Bryson in The life and Times of The Thunderbolt Kid

Unfinished.

As I was doodling, a somewhat philosophical thought about being unfinished appears on my mind. But all the words went out the window when i realised that i've forgotten all about the Malaysian studies assignment that has to be passed up by this week. I haven't start on a single thing, Pfftt.Malasnye.
Oh, and see the note behind the doodle? I'm suppose to study for my bahasa Malaysia quiz tomorrow and i thought i did. But apparently i read the wrong note haiyoooo!!!hahaha.chischiss!

Ohh.Ohhh! and i had my first ever waitressing job at a dinner function at Sheraton last friday. Oh ok. It was a part-time job and a one-off thing that i did just for the hell of it.BUT throughout the five course dinner, i managed to not be scolded by anyone, to not spill or break anything, and to not accidentally hit any of the guest's head with the plate that i had to put on their table from their right side while my other hand was holding another dish. And all the while wearing a three inch heels with a big smile plastered on my face!(ok.three inches je, but still.) Ohhhhh.bangga oookkk??!
For a super kalut klutz like me, who drops stuff everytime (my classmates can testify to this) and has a history of walking headlong into a door that is not even glass or made of anything that was see through (this actually happen during my first year.memalukan.), not doing anything remotely embarrassing on my first waitressing experience is a personal victory :D :D
At the end of the day, i knew how to set the table, fold the napkin into a semi-fancy shape, and got to serve cute gentlemen in uniform who made it a point to ask my name and say "thank you, nadia" everytime i served their course.
Oh yes,aside from not breaking spilling or destroying anything, cute guys in uniform were a huge plus for the night. But, i'm just sayin', you know.

Goodnight then peeps.

Honestly?

I fucking need a change of scene.

I know i'm a day late for this, but it's the thought that counts right? ;)

taken a year ago, ejanne, you and me.

do u realise that we don't have that many pics of the two of us?many of the latest pic are with you anyway, and the ones with me are urm, rather, inappropriate to be put up here.


Happy 22 years old hanah!

My life would be a whole lot of degrees less interesting without u around, you know?

Isn't it ironic?

a few days ago i think, there was an auction of Mahatma Gandhi's (very few, very humble) possessions, it fetched $1.8 million.
Remember, Mahatma Gandhi was a person who led a simple life, that is why he only had very few possessions- he spun his own clothes. He scorned material wealth.
now, tibe tibe je, along came someone who sold the very few stuff he once owned for $ 1.8 million.

what would Gandhi say, i wonder.

i miss

a lot of things when i'm stuck doing something i don't like.

don't we all?

ouh da lifee.

ok.a few things i've learnt this week.

numero uno: kalau dah procrastinate study lambat lambat tu and in the end having to pull an all nighter PLEASE, pleeease refrain from listening to just one song over and over and over again the whole night while studying. or else during the exam, the song from the night before will keep playing in your head.
In my case it was just one line and it was "i dont care what your mama says i wanna have your babyyyyy" in lykke li's voice, no less.
annoying.especially when i was trying to answer a question that i don't know the answer to.
i mean, i don't wanna think about having anyone's baby while trying to recall some forensic related facts.shutt up alredy!

deux:
if you have a bad sense of direction, and are trying to check out some new place, it helps to have an abnormally(haha) observant friend.really. it ensures the night out would go on smooothly.

number three:
No semester break this time around.
ish laa.

four:
Tangs have great sale.and martina pink on sale is within my budget.which is modicum.

Lima:
sometimes a nice place is inconspicuous.

Number Six:
i had to spell check inconspicuous.

Dance Dance Dance

Was searching for Lykke Li's music videos and i found this gem.





I am not sure whether this is the official music video, but I must say, after watching too many big budgeted, extensively choreographed music videos, this one here provides a refreshing break.

The girl was doing nothing more than walking and spinning around but the music video is still interesting to watch. For me, it was because of the different focuses and various angles they use to shoot the girl and the way they play with the lighting and color schemes right down to what the girl was wearing. I like how the video directors make the girl blends in with her surrounding, and that passer by seems oblivious to her dancing. It is as if the girl wasn't actually dancing there and then, but she was dancing inside, if u get what i mean.

You know that guy-vocalist from alphabeat?

I have this strange urge to snog him (or rather, the screen) whenever i see him singing.
Too adorable.

This is one of their songs.Enjoy!

I'm watching hidalgo

i suddenly miss jet.

Stubborn.stubborn jet.

the one who won't listen to orders when he knows meal time is around.
one who requires an extra tug to the opposite direction of his stable.
the one who will always try to nibble at my jeans pocket because he knows that is where i keep the carrots.
who keeps on cantering even when i tug at him to slow down.
he wasn't a perfect horse and i was a terrible rider.so in a way, we kinda belong together.

i miss jet black, jet.

I'll tell you this much: insecurity is a bitch.

Time is just an illusion, no?

It passes by the slowest when you want things to end.
It slips from your grips when you try to hold it the tightest.

Sometimes everything around you moves too fast, changes.changes.changes.
and you're still the same old person.
you look around and aren't able to make out your surroundings.it is all but a chaos of images and colors.
the faces around you changes, you see others move ahead, and you are still stuck at the same old spot.
The scenes that unfold before you switch rapidly, plot by plot, dramas by dramas,bewildered, you barely had time to process them, you finally gets one scene and the second you blink your eye, it's over, brief, fleeting.
changes.changes.changes.
and still the same you.

Admist Norah Jones, Little Joy, The Cure and annoying menstrual cramp.

I re-discovered the magic in Buncho oil pastels!

The drawing is nothing much. But for a few hours, the world consist of just me, the song i'm listening to and a blank paper that was little by little, filled with the colors of my choice.

This is my form of escapism.



oh.
and shoes, of course.

:: The mak lang tries her hand at a joke::

The conversation i had with Mak Lang:

Mak Lang (ML): Eh, dengar dengar concert rihanna cancel kan?
Me: Are you serious??? Tipulah! betulke?
ML: Ye..cancel, dengar kate die ganti dgn some local artiste.
Me: Ohh..x logic logic... but just out of curiosity, kalau die nak ganti, ganti dengan siape pun?
ML: Owhh..rihanna cancel..die ganti dgn Rohana Jalil!

hahahaHahaHAhahaahaHAaha!!!!

ok.i just find the joke really funny, especially when i picture Miss Halimatun Taha attending a Rohana Jalil concert (i'm not saying that she's not a good entertainer, mind you.)

It's just that Halimatun?? at a Rohana Jalil concert?
Funny.

:D

:: Hello, happy weekend! =) ::

pic taken from Panoramio photos by Maria H-S

Most of the time, i'm pretty much at peace with myself.
But every now and then, i can't help but wish that i have Rachael Yamagata's voice.

I don't know if her voice really have anything to do with this, but whenever i listen to her and i close my eyes,i'll picture the image of the sky just before a thunderstorm.
Imagine yourself staring at the sky, the wind blowing in your face, through your clothes, and through your hair--you just stood there because you like how your cheeks, the tip of your nose and your lips become slightly numb by the coolness of it. Then of how you could almost smell the scent of fields, meadows and grasses brought along by the wind, so mixed together that trying to figure out their individual scent would be like trying to pick a specific something out of a vague memory. And in the distant horizon, the black clouds seem to be rolling slowly towards you, enveloping the white-grey sky with a deeper, almost menacing shade of grey. You could see the occasional lightning in the distance and hear the low grumble of thunder. And 'till finally, the sensation of the first tiny raindrops on your skin (cool against cool) would bring you back from the fascination.

The whole experience-that's Rachael's voice for me.
Dan sy mahu voice itu.Sigh.

::Today's your day::

To the one who'll always be a few weeks older than i am :P

Happy 22nd birthday Farizatul Ezanie!~~

Here's to many more birthdays that we'll celebrate together
I love you through and through and through.
And then some.

=) =)

:: dream on::

Bubbles.
Pretty little fragile things aren't they?
They float whereever the wind takes them
all the while reflecting the spectrum of colors on their surface.
Dreamy.

What i don't want to do is, living inside a make-believe bubble.
Seeing the world thru its rainbow tinted surface might be wonder-full for a while, until it finally breaks and i'll be left to hit the ground hard. And i'll finally realise that all this while, the beautiful swirl of colors that i've seen the world thru, is just the bubble afterall.



this is mere rhetoric.

hello happy people,
have a nice thursday :)

:: Of nail polish, good luck card and a weekend well spent::

Last night i got a msg from miss hamami, asking whether i could make a good luck card for her to give a certain someone.
So I rummaged my box full of odds and ends, bits and pieces and I found a half used jet black paper, what's more,I just happen to have bought these sorta deep-pink A4 papers from my data-collecting trip in Ipoh a few days back.
So there you go, black and pink goes together don't they?Throw in my old french-manicure nail polish to the combo and then add a little bit of stitching,- Voila!you've got yourself a good luck card~




the pink-black good luck card dan nail-polish yang berjasa


Moving on to another subject,
I have no idea that classical indian dance would be so captivating!I was always mildly interested in it just as i am mildly interested in any kind of dances. But wow, classical indian dance is amazingly expressive- and in that, it is beautiful.

Oh, lucky ejanne who is taking Classical Indian dance as her extra cocurricular activity this semester. Make sure you can jump and gelek as well as they do by the end of the semester ok ejanne? haha!

Btw, having to attend the classical indian dance workshop/performance at the klpac open day was part of her assignment. Interesting, kan? I, for one; wouldn't mind getting an assignment which requires me to attend an event full of sun, fun, laughter and wonderful wonderfully quirky people.-This one is a feast for the eye, and for the brain.

KlPac and Bijou Bazaar

Now, I'm sure u guys know that KlPac and its surrounding is picture-perfect all around, but there's this one particular building near KlPac that i've always like- it is old and all that is left of it is just the skeleton of the building it once was. It has this colonial building old-charm about it and would look perfect on photo!I've been meaning to snap a couple of photos at the building since long ago, but never got the chance to.
We did get all click- happy last sunday tho! Until a guard from the railway office (i think) across the building blew a whistle at us. Opps, apparently the building is a no-trespassing zone. But tak pe,we had our pictures taken already. Whee~

I'll put up some pictures of the classical indian dance, and of the charming old building once ejanne has uploaded them!

the pretty guy

the dancers

i forgot the name of the move.

apparently, my fave picture of the day doesn't hv me in it =) =)


finally, finally!

Totally random: just when i thought my weekend was wheee~~ enough, the sister had to msg me saying she just jumped off a 60m cliff into the river below. Blardyy hell Haida, that sounds devil-fun!!!

::poem #2 ::

The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their lost is no disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.

-Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!)like disaster.


"One Art" from The Complete Poems 1927-1979
by Elizabeth Bishop.


*************

I really did lost my mother's wristwatch-two times.
Once was a Guess wristwatch. (indifference)
Another one was a Charles Jourdan (you lost which of my watch AGAIN?????!)
Needless to say, i never did borrowed any of my mother's wristwatch ever again.

:: Roses, by any other name, would smell just as sweet::

So Sunday saw me and a couple of friends jumping and jigging to the fantastic Yuna as well as to bunk face and love me butch. (ok, Nieda and Barb was jumping and jigging to love me butch anyway, i am too uncool to even last that long in such pandemonium.x berjiwa muda. buwek.)

but anyway, because we came there quite early and since it was sunday, we decided to check out the pasar at Bangsar. besides, my vase has been deprived of fresh flowers since god knows when. And i kinda miss having those sweet smelling roses around, they remind me of various happy moments.

Hence, these pretty things::



Yes people, those are lilac color roses. They give out the sweetest smell!
that was how the flowers looked like the day i bought it.
Now, when there's something i particularly like, i have the habit of taking them with me everywhere i go and placing them within my eye's view.
So there was the flower, placed on the floor besides my bed just before i went to sleep.

And then when i woke up the next morning, the first thing i saw was:


Tadaaaa!!~~

The flowers have bloomed overnight!!! It felt like waking up to a lover saying "good morning!" with a big bright smile. It just made me smile instantly. What a perfect way to start the day, dont you agree?


Of course, this picture wasn't taken as soon as i was awake. I'm not that obsessed, thank you. This was taken while i was in Sya's room. And again, yes, i take the flowers everywhere i go.


And as im typing this, roses are safe and sound on the table next to me:


Ok people, before i freak you out with my post about roses, let me move on to other thing that i find overwhelmingly beautiful.

This song:




Gravity -coldplay.

well, there's another version




Gravity- embrace.


pesonally. i prefer coldplay's version.
but embrace's version is good too.

a beautiful song will still be beautiful anyway you sing it.

and this song swallows me whole, everytime.

Chris Martin, how do you write such profound words?