contradicting, ya3nii.

this post will contradict a sufficient amount to the post i wrote before. :D

because, this week i felt proud of myself. though i really don't know why. maybe because of WSC? because it's enviro-week? well. i just feel very content and blessed right now, even if i have 2 hours to sleep and i haven't completed my homeworks. :D

i suppose, it's because of -get ready for some more sappiness, folks- i'm definite i'm being loved right now. it may not be from a guy i seem to stupidly, uselessly fancy or anything, but hey, when you have true family and friends, who needs a meaningless smile from a boy (or girl, if any guy is reading this) you like? :)

yeah, i might be just saying that because i don't have a bf (and mind you, i don't want one right now, though it will be nice to know that he likes me back though we won't be dating. ever.), but i'm just saying it's true. nothing comes in first than platonic and pure family love, and you know that you have support wherever and whoever you are. :D

i was feeling a tad (but seriously not too much) low on self-esteem today in the morning, idk why, and i watched as people passed by, figure after figure, faces after faces. i thought 'out of billions of people and creatures on this earth, i was put as ardianty. not popular or highly-attractive, unable to cook, not athletic and not perfect in every single shape or form.'

then i looked at another person. she was very nice, beautiful, kind and smart and athletic. but, even then, i realised, i did not want to be her at all. sure, i have role-models and people who triggers me to keep going and reach a further limit. but i'm ardianty. i know i'm incredible at some fields, and so are you. and so is everyone.

and i'd rather be me, carrying out my own story, than being some popular girl any other day. :)

a sprinkle of confusion

"You are a once-in-a-lifetime,

Never-before-on-Earth,

Never-to-be-again personality.

Understand the importance of that."

-Ruth Vaughn

Snagged from 'The 6 Most Imporant Decisions You'll Ever Make' again. I fail so bad OTL. But we'll come back to this later on, so, let's start off with positive notes.

Yesterday I had guitar lesson and it was brilliant. :D The teacher said I'll be skipping a few this-and-that and get into more (but hopefully not too complicated) forward subjects early. Huzzah! Oh, and I was picked for the World Scholars Cup debate thingy for Dubai. I'm really excited, but I can't help wonder if I'll be fine. I'm not a very debative person. And whoa, the materials we have to research are unbelievable. The Missing Link? The formation of the moon theory? It's splendid, but... :/ Still, I think, maybe I'll survive. I'm going mostly for the sights and the 4* star hotel, whee~ :D /I SUCK.

I wanna go to England next year, hoho. D8

And, it's Environmental Week this week, and I don't think I've done much to save the environment which I claim that I love oh-so-very-much. I'm sorry, rainforests. I really, really do love you. D: I'll have to love you more if I'm gonna start making big changes though. u__u;

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Isn't it amazing, that no one over the past thousands of years, has the same personality? Ever? Sure, there are those who are very similar, share the same interests, dislike the same subjects, but there will always be something different about any soul wandering around the earth, past or present.

But that's just a bit of the point I'm trying to make. The thing is, I've been wondering if I've ever been myself. Or, maybe I have just been acting completely different at different places at different times that I have no idea who myself is anymore. Am I the dreamer I 'claim' to be or the angry brat who sulks at home?

Okay, well I don't sulk often. Maybe I do but I push that away, even though it gets too me so bad that at times I'd like to cry. Though the littlest things, I shouldn't allow to ruin my life. But I don't sulk at the smallest things either. Well, except for piano, cuz I always hate being dragged to lessons when I haven't practiced enough or feel very tired *WHICHISEVERYWEEK* orz.

It's just that, if I'm only 'ardianty' why is it that i feel like i have to act differently all the time? maybe it's the fact that i'm insecure of who i am? this post may be exaggerative, but i'm merely blurting out my thoughts.

sometimes, i admire 'B' and Jana. They could act a little over the top, but I wish I could just be free to speak my thoughts whenever I want to, and not care what anyone else would think of me.

Sometimes, I wonder, if I were to always show my 'inner-self', would I still have the friends I have now? Or not?

the cure 1995

like fikar, i'm also doing a movie review. because this is one movie you won't like to miss.

Today, I decided to watch The Cure, because a few days ago I read a short preview of this movie on the Time Out section in Gulf Times. I thought it would be a very moving piece, filled with friendship, smiles, adventures and of course, tears. And I was right.

The movie revolves around probably a fourteen year old boy named Eric (Brad Renfro), an adventurous rebel who has no companion whatsoever and lives under the care of a rather abusive, work-aholic mother. A few days into the summer vacation, he was plunged into a rather awkward conversation with the boy next door, Dexter (Joseph Mazello). At first, Eric didn't at all like Dexter, but a couple of days passed and soon he climbed over the fence to meet this curious boy.

Dexter, who was pretty meek and small for a boy of eleven years of age, explained he had AIDs. As the two boys developed a brotherly bond over the weeks, Eric decides that both of them should work together to find the cure. After many failed attempts and a nearly-poisoned patient, there were news of a doctor who had found the treatment for AIDs. And Eric's suggestion? That they both float down the Mississippi River to New Orleans, of course.

The rest I wouldn't like to say because you find out for yourself how it ends.

For me, this movie really depicts the life of two brother-like boys and captures the sensitivity of the young male. It shows how strong a bond could be, and that family is more than just a matter of being blood-related or not.

Overall, I'd give it a B+, or an A- even. Watch it before you disagree, I'm just merely stating opinions and dabbing my eyes with tissues.

it is monday, today.

well, duh. and for the past 3 days i've been devouring a 'guide to life' book from Sean Covey called 'the 6 most important decisions you'll ever make'. it's hilarious and inspiring and utterly helpful, i tell you.

there was one chapter which is all about self-worth. i find this rather important because really, people could feel really down and under-appreciated at times. and it is a matter of how other people sees you and how you see yourself. when i look in the mirror i see, quite admittedly, a not-so-much attractive girl, and do i let that bug me?

yes. yes, it bugs me so that i can't make full eye-contacts even with my friends. but above all, i see potential. not only in my appearance but also inside, even if i'm not a wholly good person inside, because i know i'm not.

but then, everyone knows beauty doesn't come from the outside. not most of the time, anyway. sure, appearance is something, but it's not everything.

here are some quick beauty tips, and i recommend that even if you're a guy, you'll read this too (fat chance since no guy *well maybe jeeday or fikarhe, once or twice* reads my blog. ever.) :

Beauty Tips by Sam Levenson

For attractive lips,

speak words of kindness.

For lovely eyes,

seek out the good in people.

For a slim figure,

share your food with the hungry.

For a beautiful hair,

let a child run his or her fingers through it once a day.

For poise

walk with knowledge that you'll never walk alone.

People, even more than things, have to be restored,

Renewed, revived, reclaimed, and redeemed;

Never throw anybody out.

The beauty of a woman is not the clothes she wears,

The figure that she carries, or the way she combs her hair.

The beauty of a woman must be seen from in her eyes,

Because that is the doorway to her heart, the place where love resides.

---

i fell in love with the poem the first time i read it. i tell you, Sean Covey and Sam Levenson are some awesome authors.

the hilarity of silence.

i wonder what's been happening for a while? :D i decay, i've been on an okay mood lately, so i suppose nothing bad happened.

well, let's just start off with the title. why is silence funny? well, nothing is funny about having to keep quiet of course, but there was a funny tale my geo teacher told us of his parents when they were sort of 'dating'.

they were on a boat race in Scotland, you see, and suddenly my teacher's father just laughed and laughed. it was the first time for him to meet his girlfriend's parents and so far, not a good impression. after a while, when they finally got him to calm down they asked him to explain what happened. then my teacher's father (who was absolutely English and not Scottish unlike his wife and her parents) was like:

"Did'cha see that boat over there?! It's name was We Shiit!"

I'm not joking. that's what he said. of course, he explained to us that in Scottish, 'weesht' means 'quiet' or 'silence'. so it's perfectly understandable for foreigners to mistake the pronounciation. :D

/STILL I'M PRETTY SURE IT WAS JUST ANOTHER EXCUSE FOR THE -SCOTTISH- TEACHER(S) AND THE STUDENTS TO SWEAR IN CLASS. MAYBE?/

no, of course not, but i still find it hilarious. XD it's the closest i've got to hear a teacher imply and say a full swear word.

my guitar teacher said my name sounds italian. idk, but that's the second time someone said it, the first one coming from this British author. :/

and just before i go, i'd like to present you with this ever-so-precious video my sister found on the net.

Ukulele kid brought a smile on my face so wide that my jaws hurt. :) Enjoy this please, and smile along.

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Thank you for faith, hope and love. thank you for friendship, trust and laughter. for music, art and serenity, and serendipity. thank you for hot chocolate and smiles.

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I'm just feeling very awesome tonight. :)

The Musafir

The harsh wind of the desert summoned whirlwinds of sand up in the air. In the distance, the sun glowered mercilessly upon the earth, its brilliant rays breaking the horizon. Dunes after dunes adorned the bare land like waves on a sea of sand. There seemed to be no soul roaming on this desert—only the sun, sky and golden sand.

A lone tree stood in the middle of this empty land, being the only beacon amongst an endless field of nothingness. It arched elegantly on its side, casting a wide and cool shadow underneath it. For Musafirs of the desert, this beacon was a sanctuary. It provided them a temporary home and shelter from the sweltering Arabian sun. Small lizards and animals create themselves a dwelling at the roots of this tree, leaving only in search of food which appears scarcely in the middle of the desert.

Beneath this beacon, a man rests with his horse. He was a Musafir—a traveler of the desert. His face was carved with wrinkles and creases, etched with lines of wisdom. The Musafir’s eyes were of a dull grey colour, their whites turning a slight shade of yellow. The man, though aged, was strong. He was powerful and prevailing—facing the dangers of the desert bravely, confident nothing can shatter his old figure.

And he was about to have the world in his hands.

It was actually a dark dream he kept concealed in his mind since he was young. To be a small nomad, who would someday achieve the highest throne in the world. He would sail all the oceans and the seven seas; climb all the mountains there were to mount and shape the world to his desire. There would be no more wars, nor crimes. The hungry would be well-fed and sought after. All will follow his will, and his wishes will be granted.

But, alas, the traveler knew it wasn’t possible. Perhaps if he was to rule the world, he himself would soil his own heart. He might become too selfish and greedy, and throw aside all of the good deeds he would have done. He would become the monster he once feared to be. He shook his head, dejected. It was a dark dream indeed.

The Musafir waited in silence as he watched the sun set lower below the horizon. The sky was forming an awe-inspiring ribbon of colours from yellow to pink to violet. He could rule the world if he wanted to, but now he won’t. The world, he believed, should be left as it is. No matter how many wars or hardships there are right now, he somehow knew that, maybe, this was how it was meant to be.

He heaved himself up with a grunt and mounted his horse. With a last look at the sunset, he took off with his horse, dashing forwards to nowhere, and let the dust and sand bury the footprints of the Musafir.

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An entry I did for the World Book Day writing House competition. It was 498 words, I think. I know winning isn't everything, but if I do win then alhamdulillah for me and Oasis. :] Forgive if you think it's crappy, but I did try to slip in this thought I've been pondering about for quite a few days about having a chance to 'take over the world'.

I hope you enjoyed it! :D