Better with Helping Others!

I've felt a lot better now. Chatted with a classmate who was always speaking ill and looking down on himself. I sort of cheered him a little teeny weeny bit up, and I automatically cheered myself up. He gave me a drawing.

He said he'll get it coloured by another friend tomorrow at DeviantArt. I'm glad he seems to be okay now. Hope he'll get over his inner dilemma/trauma soon.

Comb of Mohawk Woes

Today is 29th August 2007. Today I am officially 17 years old and 1 month. It is supposed to be a very happy day. All 29th should be. Well, everyday should be.

But today is a depressing day.

I blew up on my brother after Maghrib. He purposely drag all his getting dressed after showering during Maghrib at a very snail pace and I told him politely to step on it and go solat.

He ignored me, that ignorant brat. I told him to get dressed but he merely kept styling his hair into a mohawk, still clad in his blackened azure towel.

I ask him to hand me the comb he was using. He treated me like a stone by the road; continuing with his styling. "Jangan berlagak, bagi Ika sikat tu." He didn't.

I hold up my hand. Still styling. I grabbed it and he let it go.

I told him one last time to go solat. I turned around, intending to read the Quran. I reached the door and heard him saying, "Berlagak nate ni."

I still control my anger. You see, I've developed a lot of patience nowadays and I very rarely get angered. I told him to repeat. He didn't. The foolish coward didn't even lift his scarred face to look at me straight to the eye.

I told him to look at me and say it to my face. A lot more happened, but you get the picture. God, I am so a very sober girl. But I did let fly a torrent of abusive words, more to me than to that fool.

And to add insult to injury, mom glared at me and told me not to talk to him like that. Mom wasn't a fly in the wall from the beginning. So she knew nothing. Man, this is fucking hell.

I sort of cried afterwards. Sort of. It wasn't really a cry, I assure you. I can't even read the Quran without stopping at the waqafs for quite some time. I hate this. I hate it when I cry; even when it's only a little bit. Damn it.

Another thing also happened. I opened a friend's Frienster profile, and guess what? He wrote in his shoutout words that were clearly intended to punch me. It's not like I never saw it coming. It's just, well, I used to be on good term with him, until he got caught up with the crooks at school.

Now he's insulting me for he see me as the school's spy. I don't know, but I kind of value being friends with anyone. Even when I act aloof and as if I never cared.

Maybe I'm doomed to eternal torment after I tend to regard my friends as troublesome humanoid. Is this a way to teach me, Ya Allah?

The friend insulted me because I was doing my job. My job as a dai'e, a friend, a neighbour, a comrade, you name it. It's every one's duty to invite others to goodness and prevent the bad. And they seem to see the duty as someone else's and they regard people who live up to their duties as shit.

If I didn't say they're shit themselves, I'll be kidding myself.

Books and Sandals

Beloved school held an Excellent in SPM Camp during the last week school break. It was held at Home Beach Resort, a humble and serene resort by the sandy beach of Pantai Cahaya Bulan.

There, I've proven myself once and for all that I'm a note-freak and a book-freak. I've jotted down all notes possible during the camp. Complete, I assure you, and I'm highly thankful and proud for my knack in it. You are more than welcomed to borrow them :)

During the breaks, I could be found burying my nose inside Lion Boy: The Chase at any corner of the resort; be it under the shade, at the canteen, under the lush trees, or simply on the move.

In company or alone, that's what I did. I'm not really sociable, and I let out a disturb-me-and-die aura when I'm in reading mode. I'm becoming more and more like Hatake Kakashi by the day.

On the second day there, I finished reading The Chase right after Solat Maghrib. I excused myself to go back to my chalet. "I need to change books." I smirked at the disbelieved Zainab.

Right after I reached the said chalet, it poured cats and dogs. I know I'll be soaked, but I'll rather die that let anything ruin my book.

So I gently put The Chase back into my luggage bag, took out Lion Boy: The Truth and carefully wrapped it underneath my jacket and sauntered in the pouring rain. My friends shook their head at my grinning face, holding out the dry book.

I'm one of the scarce students who took their bags wherever they go. You see, I kind of loathe the feeling of having bulging pockets, so I never leave anywhere without my bag. It's the cradle of my beloved books. But I made sure that after Maghrib, I'll have a Quran in it.

During the second day also, my left sandal's sole was ripped open. It was hard for me to walk neutrally. I've told mom about it and requested another pair of sandals. I only have my beloved sandal and my school shoes as my footwear. I'm hopeless without my sandal.

Sadly, mom told me to sew it up. Not fair. And there she is, buying new clothes for my little sister now and then. Mom'll never buy me a new shirt. I once requested it, and she glared me. "Haven't you got plenty of them?" *sobs*

To: Tardy Genius-dono

My usrah group gave me a birthday present. Man, I'm touched. It's a red star-shaped analogue alarm clock. Beautiful and practical. Just the perfect new addition to my cute-stuff collection.

Aka-san also comes with an AA battery. How thoughtful!

Come to think of it, they gave me a clock. Is there any underlying message? (Such as: We know you're a genius, but please be on time!)

Here, try to locate it on my desk.



p/s: I didn't get a birthday cake this year..