So, Alhamdulillah. Grateful that the so-called an extreme-assignment was now accomplished with the presentation just now. We were given an assignment of making a short video, and we came out with a non-regretful decision that was acting! 80% of the video consisted of our drama. Haha. We really gave 200% attention in doing this assignment, from casting, editing the short movie, songs, adjustments and all that – within the last 4 days before the video presentation. We want something big, and significant – even we knew it was a last minute work.heh.
Tiring- yes ; our life had turned upside down, returned college around 1 am after shooting a scene at faculty and editing session up until 3, 4 am – finally it paid off. Every eyes in the class were on our video, our acting, our speech (I’m the one that talk a lot!), I felt like seriously, I wanna run out from this class now. So much laughs and at the same time, we received an impressive feedback from the lecturer.
We never expected to reach that far since we started with zero knowledge on stuffs like that – movie, video, shooting etc., but yeah, the most important thing is the idea, enthusiasm and the creativity to peel out them in a way that they can stand out loud, and catch audiences’ attention.
Ok, enough of today’s story. Another exam tomorrow and I haven’t finished study yet. Pray for me! Mid-sem break will surface soon, I wonder how boring it can be.
Living in a big family, cooking and gotong-royong together, frequently return to their village visiting their grandpas and grandmas, mass-sleeping at village’s living room, those kind of activities – I miss the feeling. Heard my friends’ stories about that, and I have nothing (not much) to say on. I wasn’t raised in a really big family, nor comfortable in a too packed home. My dear grandma who I was very closed to like no one else; passed away when I was in fifteen, and when I was in sixteen or so, my good good uncle followed her. Then, everything seemed to be blunt. Plain.
I miss her to be exact. So much miss.
One or two days before my grandma passed away, she asked me to set up a kelambu for her to sleep. So, I did. She praised me for being a good grandchild and said she was so lucky to have me as one. I laughed, but my heart was really in pain. My grandma who used to be by my side, advising me this and that, a good listener, my sleeping partner when she came to my home, someone who entertained and pampered me with everything she could, giving me gift whenever I got good results in school; was finally met The Creator, and she had no replace. Started that, I am a person with no grandma. No one that I could count on that much. I remembered kissing her for the very last time. It was hard. Throw backed and writing all those memories, I can’t hold back my tears.
The soreness I felt every time I remembered her, there was something in my heart. Tears keep flowing and it is painful. Like I have a blooded wound that are never dry. I had no worry at all when she passed way, in a sense that I really sure she will be happy living in the new world. She was a person with Al-Quran, prayers, and fasts. I am proud of her. I am the one who is lucky to have her in my life.
So, nothing much happened after that. Life is a life, and it is a race. Racing for everything. Sometimes, I’m tired to take part in this race. I’m not good in socializing, being friendly to everyone, cooking great dishes for a big family, etc. Mom once said that I just good in studying. Haha – which was true. Studying is the easiest thing. Literally, I just need to remember the facts and answer with the right way.
It was really hard to cope with loss, right? We have to get used for not seeing someone we love anymore. We have to learn copping our sore, and shed the fallen tears strong.
Back at the main point, (I don’t know why I ended up writing on my grandma) – Our society put a bench mark on how a person (girl is the biggest target) act in the crowded, how good their interpersonal skills, how friendly they are, how much topics they can blended in, are they is a good cook, how they entertain kids and babies, and so on – made me suffocated. Really is.
That is the major threat of being a twenty-something girl. You need to be perfect in merely everything – which I’m not.
No lie, this week (with 2 days remain) is getting wild. One massive *for us* assignment need to be submit at early next week, a couple of exams with tonnes of notes to be revised, mate’s birthday celebration, and side things like fyp results and appointment for the diatoms to be viewed under those advanced microscopes. I’m one happy diatomist! Yeay, finally. Can’t wait. Hopefully everything will be fine.
And two days in the row, I missed morning classes. So, it has been 2 days I’m not in any class. It wasn’t that accidentally miss but maybe more to “I need some space, please”. It is bored going to class. Isn’t? Haha.
Planned to stay awake till the next sunrise so that I can steal some times to do revision. But I can’t bear it for any longer. I felt like I was chopped into 16 separate part. I worn out, surrendered.
Another morning class tomorrow, let’s pray that I’m not going to miss it again.
“Not that running away’s going to solve everything. No matter how far you run. Distance might not solve anything.”
“How about we play our game?” he says. “All right,” I say. I close my eyes and quietly take a deep breath. “Okay, picture a terrible sandstorm,” he says. “Get everything else out of your head.” I do what he says, get everything else out of my head.
I forget who I am, even. I’m a total blank. “Sometimes fate is like a small sandstorm that keeps changing directions,” Crow says.
Sometimes, fate is like a small sandstorm that keeps changing directions. You change direction but the sandstorm chases you. You turn again, but the storm adjusts. Over and over you play this out, like some ominous dance with death just before dawn. Why? Because this storm isn’t something that blew in from far away, something that has nothing to do with you.
This storm is you.
Something inside of you. So all you can do is give in to it, step right inside the storm, closing your eyes and plugging up your ears so the sand doesn’t get in, and walk through it, step by step. There’s no sun there, no moon, no direction, no sense of time. Just fine white sand swirling up into the sky like pulverized bones. That’s the kind of sandstorm you need to imagine.
And that’s exactly what I do. I imagine a white funnel stretching up vertically like a thick rope. My eyes are closed tight, hands cupped over my ears, so those fine grains of sand can’t blow inside me. The sandstorm draws steadily closer. I can feel the air pressing on my skin.
Counting hours and minutes to sleep again after just a few hours slept last night. Today’s 3-hours class , exactly 3 hours sharp, well- as usual made me yawned in every ten to fifteen minute. Haha. Blame caffeine, it wasn’t my plan to sleep less. Heh.
Seems the power of that caffeine has been expired and I am one wilted spinach.
Ecotoxicoly paper just now, is all essays with 15, 20 marks each. Plus, questions on Lynas issue that I really out of attention during the talk. But everything were expected. And my hand arteries, and finger muscles were all like squeezed into the limit. It was like writing a thousand pages novel.
I don’t really care what points or grades I scored. Who cares on grades? It’s knowledge and understanding that really matter.
I think, “do things BIG or don’t do it at all” really has its own aura. I can feel, it is powerful. Try stamp those words in front of your study table.
Lately, I talked much with myself. Inner-talks, monologue, own-chat, stuffs like that.
Haha. Crazy, a little bit.
So me. Me – who loves to talk with myself, alone or in crowds, I’m talking inaudibly to myself as if my twin is right beside me. And she keeps on listening, sometime arguing, screaming, cursing and sometimes she just keeps in silent. She is with me, wherever I go.
I looked around when I walked, and saw the most familiar place like the huge round calm lake, the same face walking and laughing, the same routine, the same walls and buildings, they made me feel something.
Some feels that feel like something that I don’t know what words should I used to portray that. Familiarity – is the nearest meaning toward that no-word feeling.
I tried to translate that feeling literally to my friend, but it sounded wrong. Sounds funny, she laughed – but trust me, I’m serious, it is just indescribable (yet?).
Weekend and laundry is all part and parcel of life ; Staying-away-from-home life. Wish that the sun keep on striking and make everything dries.I woke up so early to settle them and rushing in getting a good place outside, under sun.
Now I miss the old times. When I can bring all over the unwashed clothes back home and let the machine do its task. And when mom and dad bring up something to eat and having a picnic under some sheltered tree.
Lots more things to be settled, plus exams in the row phenomenon. I just have to work fast and efficient.
Can’t wait to finish everything. I guess this is the 100th times I said this. Heh.