EPICNESS DEPICTED...

I think I live a life full of epic-ness. Well, at least I think I do.

Yesterday, I went back to my apartment late at night, armed with 5 friends, which among all of us, had no idea what so ever in front of us. We took the latest bus, the 10 PM bus. Oh so we thought it was. There was no bus. There was a freaking, yellow, small, fragile, van.

Gosh, I hate my life.

There was probably around a dozen of guys wanting to ride that freaking old van. At least we managed to squeezed into it. What made it all epic was the fact that the row I was sitting in, besides F, could actually fit another person. But nobody was ever bothered with it. Epic.

Since the van was a full-house, it started moving almost immediately. Thank God. But another thing came toour way that we totally had not thought about. Usually, from our university, to go back to casa, we would had, and would always will, turn to the right. That night, the freaking van turned left.

I thought we were going to the pyramid and do some late night shopping with the van driver, since I don't really have any money with me and all I can think of was shopping since I only turn left from university if I'm going to pyramid. After thinking about how nice the road was, I noticed we reached this some kind of weird and odd place.

Apart from the beautiful night scenery, and the fact that I was so sleepy that I cursed myself for even looking out the window rather than sleeping, I noticed that we've reached this very alien place. Not that I care about it.... Okay now I think I am lost. This ends here. Bye. <--- Epic ending. EPIC I tell you!

UPDATED.

Right now, I sighing as long as I think possible to even be call as a sigh (2 seconds). At last I've updated my blog.  Maybe I should put it into a story...

**********

"...At last, as I enter the dusty, dark, and humid attic, I saw just how badly the attic was damaged by time. I looked across the attic, knowing that without any light, there's hardly anything for me to see. I saw a glimpse of light coming from an old window that was shut against its will. I walked to the window - as careful as I can. I don't want to knock down any valuable stuff in here; I might just destroy an item worth displaying in my soon-to-be museum antique shop. I tore down the old, dusty curtain, which felt like paper. Got to be the work of time and aging, I thought to myself. I pushed the window. A beam of light when straight in, so bright that it brought everything in the attic back to life. I turned around, and was amazed to see just how much things -valuable and irreplaceable items - were kept up here, away from life, and those who values them..."

**********

Yup. That's how I should've put it. Any, it's official. I'VE UPDATED MY BLOG! HELL YEAH!

ALIVE

This is me, saying to the world,

I'M STILL ALIVE!

STUPID DAY

Guess what? It's Valentine's Day bitch! And I'm still single.

Bummer.

Anyway, yesterday was my not-that little-and-oversize younger sister. So, well, happy birthday!

I don't know why but we (Muslims) are not allowed to celebrate Valentine's day because Valentine was supposed to be a saint and clearly a day that is to celebrate a clergyman is not a day to be celebrated by any Muslims. But still when my friend yelled "Happy Valentine's Day", wear a huge grin, shocked my hand, and made a hand hug, who am I to say,

"Fuck off I don't do Valentine's Day, okay?"

Someone argued saying that us Muslims are not a loving community just because we don't celebrate Valentine's day. Well, if that's the case, I am very sorry. I never knew that to be a part of the community who are all loving, understanding, can feel pain and love at the same time, we have to celebrate Valentine's Day just for the heck of it.

Then again, who cares if you celebrate it or not right? I mean, why are you treating someone who you claimed to love oh-so-dearly so special today when you have the rest of the 355 and a quarter day to tell him/her that you love him? OMG I tell you, people and their mentality just makes you wonder why, why, and why?!

Also I had my first Chemistry topic test today. I don't know how to say it. I mean it was not that hard, then again it might have been just as hard as I think it might have not. Understand? Well, whatever. For all I know I still have a lot of research projects to finish, and by a lot I mean every freaking subject. 

It is kind of stupid, and it really does left me wondering. I mean, why the hell do we need to do a research for Mathematics? Isn't it kind of, weird? Well, at least it is for me. Maths are supposed to be about numbers and not about doing surveys and reports. 

Anyway wanna hear about my Maths research? Well, my teammates and I have agreed on doing a research that is related to Valentine's day, again, just for the heck of it. So we are now doing a research on the relationship between taking your time to know somebody before you guys become official and the length of your relationship.

So basically, we're saying that the longer you took the time to know somebody, to know them well enough before you know you're in love, the longer you're relationship will last. Hopefully. I had done a little bit of my survey - each of us had to do 20 surveys - and somehow it proves it right. Although I might add that all the 'victims' had probably never experience 'real love'.

Neither do I, so that's gotta suck.

Do you guys believe in true love? Like, really really true love. Not that "OMG I freaking love you that if someone throw a grenade at you I'll throw the grenade back at them" kind of true love.The kind of true love where you know it's there, and you both feel it, but then again it's too far for you to reach?

I don't know why but that last sentence made me sick. Anyway, my version of true love is what I've shared with my brother. I'm not talking about we sharing the same 'true love' but more like we're sharing the same understanding of 'true love'. God, I hate you guys. 

And myself.

Anyway, we don't really believe in love, to begin with. What we believe is more about 'friendship', and how from 'friendship', when you know you've both met the right guy, it will change into 'special friendship'. These 'special friendship' is more than that of a normal 'friendship', thus the 'special', but it does wonder.

I've always wondered myself, what happened to a girl/boy who was dumped by the other half? Do they avoid each other? What happened then when they go to the same school? Or worst, the same class? Do they avoid each other, treat each other like they had never talked to each other? Does all the effort of knowing each other and being there just to keep each other accompanied, laughing at one's joke really does ends when you break up?

Thus what I believe in. 'Special friendship'. It is kind of like 'lover' but instead of claiming that guy to be the love of your life, you say that you have a 'special someone'. Sounds cliche and everything, but at least you don't have to do things that you didn't do before.

Like before, when you were just 'friends' you make jokes, you hurt each other, crawl at their nerves, you know, those things you do just to annoy the hell out of your friend. But when you become lovers, everything change. You have to text each others, keep the other half updated to the littlest, stupidest thing you're doing. That surely sucks.

But with my 'special friend' I don't have to. I can still annoy the hell out of her, I can still make stupid jokes about her and her bad habits, but because of the connection we share, it make things more, well, special in a way. This sounds so cheeky and cheesy and very salesman-like. 

Anyway, it is what I believe, although I have not achieved it yet. It might take time, finding that 'special someone', nobody said it doesn't, but the time loss in knowing one another by heart is a time gain in keeping the relationship alive. This is cheesy too, thank you.

Well, at least this is what I believe and how I sees it. So what is your definition of love? I hope it is not sex and love-bite, 'cause if that is all you see in love, girl, you gotta go and find a counselor A.S.A.P.

So, in the end, all I wanna talk about was that 1) Yesterday was my giant little sister's birthday, and 2) Today is Valentine's day and I don't give a damn about it. It is just a normal, boring, and stupid day anyway. You're welcome, buhbye! 

P/s: I am so not condemning today because I never have a 'special someone' before, or because I'm a Muslim, or because I have no love. I just don't see the point of today. Anyway tomorrow is Prophet Muhammad S.A.W.'s birthday, so make sure you pray for him, if you are a Muslim and you're creeping in my blog, looking for nothing. 

REAL MATURE...

Have you ever wondered just how mature you are when compared to an average maturity of a human for your age? If you tried to Google that out, you'd be what I call, stupid.

I don't know why, but I had always wanted to do a post regarding maturity. Not because I think that I am mature, well, maybe a little bit, but because somebody mentioned about this thing recently. And by recently I mean last month, which, I think is about, hmph, let see, three, four weeks before? 

So anyway, the story goes this way. I was having my normal morning. Luckily, the bus arrived like after several minutes of me standing there and making a joke out of myself by laughing to myself, thanks to the sweet technology namely mp3 and radio. So anyway, the bus arrived, me and my friend, whom I shall refer to as Boroy, boarded the bus.

Note: I know 'Boroy' rhymes with 'boroi', but she's none. I just wanted the sound of it.

Anyway, while waiting for the freaking stupid driver to move, I looked outside of the window. I don't know why, but almost everyday, when the bus is fully loaded, as in like each seats had already serves it purpose and was being seated on, the bus will still wait for another, I don't know few minutes, for no obvious reasons. 

The only reason I can think of was to annoy the hell out of the people who was a bit late and telling them straight to their faces that they are, obviously, late. *sad face*

I sat somewhere at the back, and Boroy was seating with her Sabahan friend. I can't really remember who was seating besides me, not that he was any important. Or maybe it's a she. Whatever. I like seating at the back, and I always like to seat wherever there is a place where both seats are empty. I like looking at the faces people wear when the only seat available is beside me and they had that doubtful look in their face and look around for any other empty seats. I feel like saying, "Don't worry honey, it'll be a smooth ride". 

While enjoying my view (read: sad faces of late people), I saw the fat guy. The fat guy. Almost instantly, I smiled, or maybe it's more like smirked. Anyway, my friend, Boroy, she had a little bit of problem with fat guy also. You can just say that the fat guy just know how to annoy the hell out of all the girls in the college. Anyway, since I saw him, I texted Boroy, saying, 

"Weih, pakwe ko dekat luar tuh. Ajak ah dia masuk, kesian dia..."

It was really funny. And what happened after that was even funnier. We had a bit of text-fighting, all thanks to my first text to her. We texted each other, until like before we reached our college, when Boroy mentioned that I was behaving like a child. I told her back that she was a freaking old granny.

Whenever people talk about maturity, I get really worked up. But not the OMG-I-FREAKING-HATE-YOU-WHY-YOU-HAVE-TO-DISAGREE-WITH-EVERYTHING-I-SAID work up, but more like worked up in my mind. I always think that people who thinks that other people are immature, are an immature themselves. 

For once, we can't really tell how mature is mature. It's like trying to figure out the liquidity of liquid. It's stupid. People are born mature, just that they can't see that. I believe that behaving maturely is just a matter of choice. 

Like when you are with your friends, making jokes about other people and all (don't deny it!), don't you feel like you're not acting as mature as you would behave when you're in a meeting or so?

That's when my mind starts to question my (jeng jeng jeng) own mind. How can somebody tell just how mature they are? How can somebody know that they are matured? Is it because of the wet dreams, or because you peed blood on your own pants? (My friend's description of her first experience. Nice.)

Or is it because you can really tell what is wrong and what is right? What not to do and what to do more? Or are you mature when you know what you want and can achieve it yourself, without wanting others to help you? Is that it? Then I think even a 3 months old baby can figure that out. That's easy!

Hungry ---> Cry

Attention ---> Cry

Poo-poo ---> Cry

More milk ---> Cry

Peek-a-boo ---> LOL!

See? Then are they called as matured? Well I don't think so. What I call 'mature' is actually kind of twisted. For me, being matured would be knowing, and embracing yourself for who you really are. Woah, that's deep. 

Well to make it simple, for me, being a 'matured person' would be to know and be yourself. As in like, you know when to behave like a child and when to behave like an adult, and when to be none.

I just remembered this fight I had with my other girl-friend, whom I shall call FS (I can see someone smiling...). She is from somewhere in the southern part of Malaysia, and so was my Mom and her whole lot, lot, lot, freaking lot of family. 

Well, not that bad, but it is often used in a bad way. So, BAD!

But she said that the people back in her place always use it as an alternative for the word 'yawn'. That really made me wondering. I asked around. The only Southerners I knew, well the only three I knew right now was on her side.

All my relatives (read: old people) know nothing about it, but somebody did mentioned that it is only used by younger generations. Which, at the end, explains everything. 

Anyway, because of that, we had like a very nasty, R-rated fight. Just imagine a group of guys, calling a single girl, with a bad word and the girl shouting back the same word. Thinking about it sends me shivers.

Well, that guys, is what I call as a truly 'matured' people. Really.

Well, whatever. You are who you are (thanks Ke$ha) and you are the only one who know what you really are. You actually control your own maturity. If you still think that just because you experienced a freaking awesome dream about you putting in a sausage into a girl's folded tortilla and woke up the next morning feeling all sticky and stuff would make you a matured man, then be it. 

Or it's okay if you think you're matured once you pee blood. I don't mind, not really.

P/s: I know I had not updated my blog for a long time, but then again I know that people don't really care about my blog. So then, why should I care, right?