You can't get to know a person fully if you assume you know all there is to that person.
6,7,8,9,10,111213 years. Keep an open mind.

An old friend's sister just passed away. I still don't know how/why, and I don't know why the hows and whys are important because the fact is the person is gone, and the reasons no longer matter because it was her time. But I still want to know- was it natural? Was it an accident? Because the thing is, she was so young- only 16. I remember my 16th year. Arnd this time tt year, I was estatic that my Olevels had just ended- no more doing endless Maths TYS questions @ the airport. I spent time excitedly chatting on MSN; when MSN hasn't lost it's magic for me. I was nursing a broken heart over a guy that doesn't matter anymore today and falling in love with someone very special. The thought of death didn't occur to me then, and reading her blog, I don't think it occured to her too. I'm glad - that means she led a normal life.

Hearing of a death is nvr easy, regardless of if you knew the person. Because it reminds you that life in itself is short. I wonder how I will take it if one of my friends, and nauzubillah, if one of my closest friends, was to go the next day. I really don't know how I will take it. And I wonder if I were to go, how would they take it. I wonder if they will remember with fondness, how I was late half the time, but now wish that for one last time, I cld be late again. I wonder, besides me being late, what else would be prominent enough to reminisce about me. I read this person's blog, and feel like I at least know a little about her, even if it was nth really personal. I think she just started a new relationship and I am wondering how the guy is feeling. She talked about her hopes of getting As and Bs for her O levels and I am sad that she will not know now.

I think about my own life- and how I am so guarded with it. About how I am so selfish with my own words when I myself admit that I love reading up about other people, especially people I haven't met up with for a long time. Because just knowing smth, anything, makes me feel like there's at least a thread-like connection. However impersonal it is, it is still a way of keeping updated. If I were to go tomorrow, besides my closest friends, I wonder what other people would know about me. I wonder if people I have bumped into on the streets would know that I never smiled not because I was haughty or stuck up, but I was just very shy and didn't know if people would smile back. I wonder if they knew that I hate awkward conversations and would rather avoid a hi-bye conversations, but it's really nothing personal.

If I were to go tomorrow, I wonder, who would tell my parents how sorry I am because I don't have the time to make up for my mistakes and make them proud. But I wish that someone would tell them that I did want to make them proud. I want to with all my heart.

If I were to go tomorrow, I wonder if any of my friends would tell him of how much I used to love him. I used to write in this blog dedicated to him. I wonder if he would ever read it- it doesn't matter anymore (especially if I am dead), but I would just like him to know.

If I were to go tomorrow, I wonder if the people I have had misunderstandings with would know that I have let go a long time ago, but I just thought that it's better to have a clean cut-off. And it's not true that I didn't care anymore. I wonder if I die, would people think of my mistakes but forgive me because I am gone?

If I were to go tomorrow, I wonder if people would wonder how I felt prior to it; just like the reason I went to Rakinah's blog. I wonder if they knew how lonely I felt the past few days.

The truth is, we, as Muslims, are supposed to look forward to our deaths. Okay, that sounds wrong. It's just that I have read of people, these ahli Sufi, who can't wait to see God, and so are always preparing for the after-life. Subhahanallah. This might be blasphemous, but I'm not ready. I look at all my sins, and I'm not. I look at all my unfufilled hopes and dreams, and I'm not. I look at how unhappy I have been the past few days, and I don't want to die unhappy.

Life is short and I have spent the past half an hour crying and typing this out.
I miss blogspot. Maybe it will be good to open up again. To narrate my own life, instead of waiting for someone else to narrate it.
But most importantly, to live life the way I want to live it. That's the most important.

Be mature about it.

re·ha·bil·i·tate
–verb (used with object)
1. to restore to a condition of good health, ability to work, or the like.
2. to restore to good condition, operation, or management, as a bankrupt business.
3. to reestablish the good reputation of (a person, one's character or name, etc.).
4. to restore formally to former capacity, standing, rank, rights, or privileges.
–verb (used without object) 5. to undergo rehabilitation.

Sometimes, it means not doing what you want to do the most.

A professor asked her class, "Why do people shout at each other when they are angry?" The class discussed & a few answers were offered but none that the professor was satisfied with.

Finally, the professor said, "When people are angry with each other, their hearts are far apart. That's why they shout. But strangely, the more they shout, the further their hearts get, & the louder they go."

The class was intrigued, & the professor went on. "On the other hand, when 2 people are in love, their hearts are very close to each other. That's why they whisper sweet nothings to each other. Sometimes, they needn't even use words but let their eyes do the talking."

I think I'm guilty of stereotyping guys. I think guys are unfeeling when it comes to moving on. And when I'm saying this, I'm not referring to any personal experiences, but generally. I always seem to think that guys had it easier than girls, because they are less emotional, and it is just that easy for them to switch on and off their feelings. I will even say sorry for feeling that way, because I always get surprised when my guy friends come to me and reveal how sad they are when they lose their girlfriends/get rejected/ anything around that line.

I've seen a guy cry, but tonight, I heard a guy cry and it's heartbreaking...

Everytime I think of you,
I feel a shock right through into a bolt of blue
It's no problem of mine,
but it's a problem I find
Living a life that I can't leave behind.

There's no sense in telling me
The wisdom of a fool won't set you free
But that's the way that it goes
And that's what nobody knows
And everyday my confusion grows.

Everytime I see you falling,
I get down on my knees and pray
I'm waiting for that final moment
You say the words that I can't say.

I feel fine and I feel good
I feel like I never should
Whenever I get this way
I just don't know what to say
Why can't we be ourselves
like we were yesterday.

I'm not sure what this could mean
I don't think you're what you seem
I do admit to myself that if I hurt someone else
They will never see just what we're meant to be.

I want to master the art of seeming emotionless.

I find it very funny, when people read other people's blog and then defend themselves by saying it's the www, but when people read their blogs and attack them, its a 'f off, i'm entitled to my opinion'. What gives?

In a world where freedom isn't free, we all have a part to play in breathing life into the word respect.

Ruby stepped towards him. "Edward," she said softly. It was the first time she had called him by name. "Learn this from me. Holding anger is a poison. It eats you from inside. We think that hating is a weapon that attacks the people who harmed us. But hatred is a curved blade. And the harm we do, we do to ourselves."