All posts tagged stories

aku. dlm hati ini.

Published September 10, 2011 by crystalights


aku bukan sempurna

tapi aku bukan pretending


aku bukan sengaja melebihkan rasa hati aku

aku dah pernah mncuba


aku tk slalu berupaya duduk di dalam lingkungan lengkungan normal

bila2 masa aku terkeluar dari garisan, bukan bermaksud aku tak berpendirian


susah la bila kedudukan aku dinilai dgn jauhnya aku dari garisan tu

dan susahla bila diri aku dinilai dgn satu sudut fikiran yg jugak satu bntuk pandangan “manusia”, manusia mcm aku walau tak serupa dgn aku


lebih susah bila pnjelasan aku dianggap sekadar habitual things driven by a stubborn need to be the rightful one


lama2 ada jurang


which probably grew with time


bukan aku tak berusaha, tapi dah smpai situ aku tak tahu lg nk ke mana


kita sama2 boleh apologize, tapi mgkin aku la yg nampak mcm bersalah

sbb tak buat benda yg boleh diterima oleh pemahaman seseorg seperti itu


walaupn pd hakikatnya, nilai dan timbangan setiap org tak mgkin identically sama


aku boleh je terima perbezaan tu, dan rsenyer aku tk pakse pn org lain utk hidup dgn cara aku


so kenapa aku rse mcm tak diberi that “benefit of the doubt”, eh?


kenapa, tak boleh ke kalau fikir: “itu PENDAPAT DIA tentang CARA HIDUP DIA yg DIA INGIN JALANI”



bawak haluan masing2.


mcm biase la aku

m’mang slalu ditinggalkn pn.


itulah lengkungan normal utk org mcm aku kot.




aku maafkan, semua.


aku rasa dia pn dh maafkan semua.


cuma aku rase aku tak pasti dari sudut pandangan itu, masalah mcm ni telah selesai atau mgkin punyai kebarangkalian utk berlaku lagi bila2 masa in the future


stiap kali kita bertemu sesama kita atau sesama org lain yg kita kenali


atau stiap kali kita breathe the same air


would it be a calm, normal air that is not influenced by emotional baggage?


i’m not so sure about that


aku perempuan. aku tahu tahap emosi aku dan kmungkinan tahap emosi perempuan2 lain


boleh ke kita bersatu hati


atau sekurang2nya berlapang dada di masa akan dtg?


aku tak pasti.


yg pastinya aku terkejut sbnrnye


bile kita say goodbye dlm tram tu as if it’s the last time

sedangkan aku hampir pasti it isn’t.

it wasn’t supposed to be the last time

but i felt that it wasn’t jst a normal parting

it was like a forever farewell

where you don’t think you’ll do anything within your power to purposely cross paths with that person you’re saying goodbye to in the near or distant future

it was like a final verdict

it was almost like a resignation.


throughout (and after) this ordeal

i felt almost like

something was convicted against me

and that no matter how hard i try it wouldn’t really matter to people as much if they’ve chosen what they chose before and above everything that’s said and done


i got hurt (again) by the people close to me


i can’t really be careful enough to save myself another heartache, can i?


the worst part is trying to not show the hurt because you don’t want to put pressure on anyone


because you’re an adult


because you’re the tough girl. the one whom people see as the hard-headed, big personality, high ego, alpha female girl.


the one who is really still a girl. at heart. thinking “if only people could see that.”


but whatever.


it’s not like i can fix this.


it’s been months.


look at where i am now.


alone in an empty house.


my 400th post: a mix of colourful days.

Published December 13, 2010 by crystalights


yesterday: at the beach ^__^

the sky.

i didn’t really notice how blue they were before.

what are the odds of finding a rainbow peeking out above the sea?

isn’t that rare?

on the road to the ocean,

we found a patch of land like a meadow with a small pond

and the buffalos and cows were grazing and taking a dip too

it’s like a picnic. among the animals.

they really are an outgoing bunch of animals, LOL.

in this part of the country, the animals roam around without supervision.

it’s like their owners know and understand their animals enough to leave them out there freely and unattended.

travelling within these villages, it seems as if you can see those animals everywhere.

sometimes they walk on the road. and wait at the bus stop. LOL.

yes. they seem to eat anywhere they want. and poop anywhere they want.

my little sister had to wash the car tyres when we got back home.


wasn’t that nice?

we spent our time at the beach for like the entire afternoon, until our fingers were pretty wrinkly.

it was tiring.

but very calming. and nice.

when the waves leave the sands, the shores feel a little empty.

that’s when the little creatures come out and weasel their way around the little spaces.

so i run instead of walking

because i hate feeling something crawling at my feet.

run to the waters

dip in the sea.

today’s class was okay, though i didn’t expect myself to finish early.

i thought my lesson plan was enough to cover the entire class time.

but it didn’t.

so i added a few things after giving them literature exercises.

i initially taught them something from macbeth.

(but i don’t know why they seem to be a little out of it).

i was thinking: “girls, this is shakespeare. you don’t always come across shakespeare anytime later in your life, right? so why not lighten up a bit just for this, huh?”

and okay

since this is my 400th post, let’s talk about one of my favourite subjects: <<art in motion>> ^__~

i think that good films are not easy films.

coming up with an audio visual recording which is tastefully complete isn’t a walk in the park.


isn’t it amazing when 30 seconds is enough to hook you in?

i have to say this:

why can’t our local CFs be more like these?






i. love. 1. 3. & 4. so. effin’. much.

video credits to: elavip6

shopping. and people. and me.

Published November 25, 2010 by crystalights


these past few days made me realize that a lot of things on sale doesn’t really satisfy me.

i don’t go shopping all the time

but yesterday i was looking for the right pair of black leather heels,

and unfortunately even brand names doesn’t quite have the right kind

(that i would like).

i was trying to get that shoe-hunting mood to kick in even though i don’t really like wearing high heels

(because no matter how well-made they are they always seemed to hurt me in some way or another).

shoe shopping is always time consuming

when there’s so many that you don’t like.

at the end of it i just bought a pair that looks like something that i would probably wear if i am a 16 year old kid studying in a private school.

with some multiple colours of ankle length tights.

[i don’t understand why people don’t understand the term tights. tights generally are supposed to be from the waist to the toes. or any specified (shorter) length of your legs to the toes. if it doesn’t cover your foot and toes then it’s usually known as leggings. or unfooted tights (which may have a connecting stretch of material going underneath your foot). it’s not that hard. so i don’t understand why when i asked for ankle-length tights i get thin lycra leggings, tight pants or unfooted athletic tights].

just wiki it and you’ll (hopefully) get what i mean.

one more thing about leggings,

kalau perempuan bertudung dikatakan tak manis memakai leggings

maka tidaklah juga manis jika yg ber leggings itu perempuan yg tidak bertudung.

perempuan tetap perempuan.

leggings tetap leggings.

kalau tak manis utk seorang perempuan maka tak manis lah utk semua perempuan selagi mereka itu perempuan.

kalau rase salah dan tak suke, then jgn buat.

perlu ke tubuhkan kumpulan setiap kali ader sesuatu yg tak disukai ?

selesai ke masalah setiap kali ada sesuatu yg tak disukai, kumpulan2 anti-“something” or anti-“someone” pun muncul.

apa ertinya menjadi sebahagian dari kumpulan2 ini?

adakah dpt sampai message2 yg sepatutnya berniat murni or berunsurkan kebaikan?

ataupun kita sebenarnya meningkatkan permusuhan dan prasangka?

kalau niat kita baik kan elok kalau cara kita menyampaikan pun baik.

that is just something

that crossed my mind.


what i like is

rebuilding and refixing what is broken

i don’t mind spending a long time just sitting and sticking them back together

piece by piece.

(it was broken when we took it out of the box).

and now it’s an unbroken house again.


and i

put up with things if i feel like they’re rare

these patterns look rare to me.

sulam nyer tak berterabur

motif nyer kemas

bunga nyer berkelopak timbul

warnenye tak keras.

walaupun ader la sikit kain nyer yg tercalar

(tapi dah tinggal satu)

so i put up with it because i feel like it’s a bit rare.


i also don’t like things that are not very well done.

(who would like that ?)

the cream patterns look like they’re falling apart from each other. like they are un-unified.

too many gaps between each overlapping strokes.

too smudgy.



i pay attention to details.

of all the cakes there are, of course i notice which one’s uncared for.

which one’s rushed.

which one had probably came from a pair of unsteady newbie’s hands.

so if the person is meticulous, they usually come off as very capable to me.

i like that sort of commitment coming from people.


hari ni ingat just nak jalan shopping brg sendiri sikit2

tapi singgah supermarket jugak beli brg2 mak nak utk esok.

we were later on at the cashier wanting to pay

and realizing that the total of those groceries (plus a few items more) was over our budget.

that was a major mood-spoiler.


the problem with me is that

i have this horrible temper that even i don’t like.

i kinda knew that

if i ever meet someone out there who has this exact same thing

i wouldn’t like him/her very much.

i get angry because my estimation of the groceries doesn’t match the actual cost.

i get angry because the shoe that i like that i thought was affordable was actually almost 160 bucks

and i refuse to pay 160 bucks for a pair of (un-brand-named) shoes because (even if they’re brand-named) i’m not Carrie Bradshaw (who pays like 600 bucks for her pair of “Manolo Blahnik”s) although i kinda really liked that shoe. at first sight. and i initially thought of buying it.

it’s this temper-principle-pride thing going on in me

that pisses (even) me off.

like not wanting to give something to someone who did something i don’t like and at the same time not even wanting that thing for myself

that i would rather throw it away than give it to someone who wants it just because that someone is someone i don’t like.

it’s like me being so damn difficult and harsh and bitter.

about almost everything.


i don’t really like that me too.


(and now i sound like a schizo)



what i have been waiting and thinking about has finally arrived in my inbox today

and i realize that

there really isn’t anything much that i can do with it.

for now,

i don’t have the means to do what should be done.

i’m not born with a silver spoon in my mouth and a silver platter on my table.

i struggle with these things too as i grow up

in a five-siblings-with-only-one-working-parents family


in malaysia

you can get great food,

exceptional education, and

high quality medical services

if you have the cash.

as long as you can pay for it,

nothing should really be in the way of you getting your every wish and command.

being rich guarantees you at least that much.

for the rich (and the famous) life shouldn’t be much of a problem in this country.


for the rest of us “less-privileged” people,

we have to fight for a place in an institution

fight for a chance to study

fight for the use of a few facilities and utilities

fight for a chance to have someone support us and our cause

fight for an adequately paying job

and then suffer through taxes and price hikes and whatnot.

life is rough and brittle when you’re worn and penniless.

they say

“money isn’t everything”,

“money can’t buy love”,

but money speaks enough. for people.

and what does love got to do with any of it?

i guess

love can’t save people from hunger and pain,

love is never enough

never forever.


hell no, love can’t even save people from themselves.


so i don’t know what makes the world go round,

but one thing i am certain is that

it is not love.


this is

Published November 2, 2010 by crystalights’s song in my head when i woke up


there’s people talking

they talk about me

they know my name

they think they know everything

but they don’t know


about me


i didn’t really imagine that i would actually tell him what i was about.

in the car.

in that damn wrecked-up car.

because we supposedly have a very spartan relation (?)


so i told him that i didn’t do all those things that youngsters do because i don’t want people to find me and cling to me.

*puking sounds*

’nuff said.


i know i’m not really normal in all those sense of the word.

but it didn’t really bother me (?)

but because he finds it strange and because being in such hour-long journey in an oddly coloured car with him brings up such random spew of words;

i thought that i’ll jst have to say something so that he doesn’t fall asleep on the wheels.

(it’s my ass on the line anyway).

my sister’s probably gonna diss me like hell for this.


it’s not like she can get away with it too if it was her.

(yeah, right. keep deluding yourself when everyone gets away with that scott-free).

so i told him what i was.

(trying to do. or not do, for that matter).


it was awkward and disgusting.


basically, it just shows that i am a self-centred unattached bitch who doesn’t want anyone hanging around because i am too selfish to give people what they need.


try telling that to someone so spartan with you.

it felt soo ridiculously unreal.


i try to make it happen

try to make it allright

i know i make mistakes

i’m living life day to day

it’s never really easy

but it’s okay


maybe i can’t really make people understand

or maybe i just don’t try


maybe it’s weird that i wanna skip my graduation day (and its rehearsals).

to me, if i have already finished my studies,

then it means i have already finished my studies;

regardless of whether or not i show up for my convocation day,

as long as i finished, i don’t necessarily have to be there, right?

the convocation day doesn’t prove that i finished my studies.

the final exam results does.

the letter of confirmation does.

not the highly esteemed graduation day.

is that so hard to comprehend?

do we need to attend a ceremony to reinstate the state of a completion?


at this rate if i go it’ll probably be only because of my parents’ (coercion).


i don’t really get why but i’m guessing he finds my way of life (with other people) a bit off

so i say that i can’t really pitch out my trust (been there, done that, and i’m soo through with such wasteful sentiments)

because if anyone wants to pitchfork your heart to shreds it wouldn’t matter whether or not you’ve been an angel to them


you just do what you do best and try your best not to care

people all around you

everywhere that you go

people all around you,

they don’t really know you


everybody’s watching

like it’s some kind of show,

everybody’s watching

they don’t really know you now

(and forever)


and that’s why i hate coming out of my shell


a simple ball game gets awkward

because it gets to me now

when i don’t care


(but if i don’t care then why does it get me all awkward)


it’s strange

but i don’t want to change


for now we’ll just see

how this will turn out to be.


(or is it just me always having the chance to run away but suddenly denied of the very thing that i was used to?)

maybe i wished that every little goodbyes were the last ones

of roles and duties. and life and living.

Published September 21, 2010 by crystalights


my father has a certain way of doing things that he expects people to follow.

most of the time, i just go along with it.

but sometimes,

some very rare times,

i can’t.



i can’t really deliver what is expected of me.


he believes in back up plans

in raking in more than you need (even when you only need one and will only choose one in the end)

he likes more than one option

more than one solution

more than just average grades

more than just a couple of distinctions


perhaps to him, more is more is the absolute must.


if i can’t deliver his expectations at one point

then somehow i’ll end up somewhere where i have to somehow do it

there is no long-term escape

just options and more pathways for me to fulfill what he seeks


sometimes i just do whatever is requested of me

even when it makes me look or feel crazy

as long as it’s physically / intellectually feasible

i just do it.

i just live with it.


but sometimes i believe in different things

like losing money but gaining time.

if i get time. then why does money matter?

if i get knowledge / information, should money matter?


like what happened today.

i want to just get my pics from any random photostudio shop, i don’t really care.

it’s just a photo for my application form. (tomorrow’s the deadline).

but he wants to take the time to print it at home,

choose the right settings, the right size,

cutting it down in his own manner

and then using his own adhesive for sticking it on

and his own method of ensuring its quality.

everything is his own

perfection right down to the details.


(and now i’m not so sure if i won’t miss the deadline in the next 24 hours).



imagine these ideals of his applied to everything else.


i was sent to several different schools throughout my entire primary and secondary years,

and some of the schools are not even a district apart.

just because he thinks one is better than the other

(but well, most of the time..i hate to say that he’s right).

i was very unwilling at that point.. only to be sent somewhere else and then at the end of it was him proving to me of how precise his decision was.


i was in highschool back then

when he was in the car with my mum and the kids, waiting for the whole of my 1 hour chemistry class to finish every wednesday of the week (because it takes a half hour to get there and another half hour to get back. so he just sends me and waits there until i finish for about an hour later).

and then he sends me for my 3 hour biology class every friday and some other day of the week

and my add maths classes

and physics classes.

they’re all extra classes per week. he chose the teachers. and the schools they come from.


hand picked.




so this is how i live.

it’s not easy, but at least it’s a way of living.


it wasn’t that wonderful for me.

but somehow he works things out.


and i grew up thinking that every man out there has to at least have the capabilities of this man

who isn’t all that amazing but a capable, able man afterall.


i needed someone whom i can respect. in one way or another.

someone who wasn’t easily defeated.


we don’t necessarily have to like each other

but we have to live our roles

and fulfill our responsibilities

to live for the purpose of which we are created

to be what we must be

what we should be.


sometimes you can’t have everything

there is always something that you have to lose in order for something else to be gained

but if it is your duty is there any excuse for you to just let go?

i guess i believe in that too much.


i believe that if everyone lives up to their roles and duties and responsibilities than this world would have been a better place

because no one would be squished aside for the sake of another person’s self importance.


family dining table meal

Published August 31, 2010 by crystalights


i think it’s amazing that my dad can remember how many chairs there are to that decade-old dining table set.



there are six of them.

they were bought when we were still little kids,

the chairs that match the table to match with the floor

not only to match the colour but also the patterns.


but the floor in our home now isn’t quite the same as the floor in our old home.

i remember rows of little windows, with pink flowery curtains in each room

and long orange-coloured ones for the living room.

there were two small mango trees

on our back yard view from the kitchen

with the brown wooden cabinets and shelves complementing the stove


that was more than 15 years ago

but he remembers how many chairs there were from that dining table set.

he was asking: where is the other chair? there is one more.


and my sister took it out of her room to add to the dining table.


we didn’t even remember how many there were.

and i was thinking

maybe this dining table set does match the current floor where we have our meals now

the patterns aren’t exact matches, but the colour is perfect.


as much as he remembers things i just hope

that he doesn’t remember how angry he was today

and the last couple of days.


it’s difficult to have normal meals when the air is thick with tension

i was holding the onion container and it almost slipped from my hands

it was just a small plastic container

but i was so scared that even the scattering of fried onions would make him blow up

with that kind of mood in him today, no one really dared to speak

even the eating was silent for a while

i think i let out a breath when he was finished with his meal and got up to leave the kitchen


it was really heart-hammering.



Published August 29, 2010 by crystalights


my mum talks about her plants as if they are real people, real humans with needs.

she speaks in a guilty tone of how she feels sorry for them whenever some of them dries up, wilts, or turns yellow.

she remembers what they need and somehow they bloom faster in her hands.

she speaks of her plants so respectfully in such a good-natured way that sometimes even real humans aren’t as respectable as them.


my youngest brother treats anything art-related very passionately.

he’s into sewing multi-coloured beads onto old clothes now.

today he wore that shirt with those beads that he sewed.


my father treats anything art-related dispassionately.

he looks upon my youngest brother’s bead-sewing with a frown in such a disdainful way-

just like that time when i was younger with lots of As for my art and drawings but Bs for my maths.

i think it’s the same frown now, with extra wrinkles.

only at that time during my younger days it wasn’t just a frown.

it was a statement.

i like looking at my mum’s plants, but i don’t like looking after them.


i like my youngest brother’s enthusiasm in arts.


i’d like to think that my father hasn’t aged more than he should since my younger days.


i still have a secret love of arts even when i onced abandoned them for better math grades when i was younger.


i write what i feel.

if i don’t then i’ll feel bad for not telling it as it is.

there is no “spicing things up” as far as i know.

because i don’t know how to “spice things up” without feeling like a phony.

you know, like a liar,

a pretender.


because i live, i then write.

i don’t write to “officiate” my life.

i just live. and then i just write.