Down and away.

I am pleased to inform you of my new space:

http://zangzangshoot.wordpress.com

It's an annual thing.

Bridges bridged bridges ditched.

/shrugs.

Yeah we've come a long way.
Thanks to all those whose stuck by me through thick and thin.
Especially thick.
Names are negligible.
Cause you know who you are.
And the little things do count.

2007's been a hell of a year.
And I'll save all the sappy sappy puke sap for a last post.

One last time, let's go.

step one: confess

I'm sorry.

For what? Well, I could write you a list longer then the Nile and then apologize over and over again for all the things I've done and all the things I haven't.

I'm sorry.

I'm not used to affection. I've always handled it clumsily and as a result I've always lost my slip on it. I don't have the mechanics to shape and mould it into something beautiful. But this time, it's different.

I'm sorry.

I hate playing this game of pretence. I wish that honesty didn't hurt so much but it does. It does, it does, it fucking does.

I'm sorry.

I need you. I really do. But I don't want to burden you with my sack of tear-sodden problems. Too many times you've offered your tissue. The fact that you're so untouchable, that you brush off problems like they're some pissant ant - I need you to tell me that life's a bitch worth getting back at. I need you to reassure me every now and again. I fucking need you. And I don't care how pathetic this sounds. I expect this much from you. Problem is ... I've stopped asking.

I'm sorry.

I don't give the both of you enough credit. You know I love you. But like I said, I'm awful at handling affection. I don't want to lose you. I don't want to lose anyone anymore. Both you and I know that the candy aren't quite enough to compensate all that that you've done for me. But it's a start.

I'm sorry.

My insecurities drag me, and everyone else around me down. It's like a ship with barnacles stuck to it's base. Choking, and desperate to break free. I need that port with fresh water. But I can't go to it. Not now. Not yet.

I'm sorry.

... waitafuck, not this time. I take that back. You should be fucking sorry. You're hypocrital one rank too high. And you're cowardly. You don't fight, because you think it's not worth it. Am I not worth it? No, don't answer that. You've expressed it so profoundly, you couldn't hurt me more if you repeatedly stabbed me with a knife.

And if you argued, I was cowardly too, and I was weak and pathetic - well, maybe I am. I'm so sorry for wearing my heart on my sleeve. My love's really wasted on you. And yeah, I loved you. Fuck you for not realising that.

... & something's got to be said about the one good thing that's happen so far.

You're my dark chocolate on life's souffle.

The past few months have been rocky, and you have no idea how much you've made it worth the trudge. I know I've said it a million times, and I know it's starting to dissolve into meaningless politeness, but like a friend once said - you're like an angel whose come into my life. Thanks for reviving me every now and again.




And Selamat Hari Raya to all.

LET YOUR FREAK FLAG FLY

AHAHAHAHA EVERYONE I'M HEREEEEEEE! Alright, Humaira said I wasn't updating because my oh, so caring mother took the net away but it's ok. When Wahidah wants the net, she gets the net. (Through unconventional ways, of course.)

I just called to say -

SINGFEST WAS SO MINDFUCKINGLY AWESOME!

Ahahaha. I'm sorry, I can't help it. It's a week after the concert but I'm still hyperventilating at the very thought of watching Gym Class Heroes and The Academy Is rock their hot arses on stage.

/fans vigorously

OMGOMGOMG like, a friend managed to go backstage and steal a picture with Travis from Gym Class Heroes & that lead singer guy from The Academy Is, AAAAND, when Travis went, "Here's the thing, sometimes, we just gotta take our clothes off ..." He threw out his cap AND IT LANDED SO CLOSE TO US LAH. Me & Aisyah were just too dumbstruck to react to anything so we just watched the hat fall in the hands of some tall caucasian. Ugh.

Well alright, I almost died of dehydration during Hinder's performance. Me and Aisyah couldn't even gaggle at how awful the lead singer looked, drinking his Jack Daniel's and looking like he was trying to eat a huge invisible gunk of cake. We wanted to laugh and roll over and die but we were just too tired.

AND AVENGED SEVENFOLD! Ohmygod. Even before they started singing, there was a huge tidal wave that broke the metal barricades that seperated us from the stage. Course people got hurt! Well, sides having some asshole pop my ear and having my neck feel like it'd just been wrapped with ten tonnes of beef, I'm still in one piece (:

Anyhoo! The event was AMAZING. I was 4 times better than Fall Out Boy's concert, and, whoa, it was one of the best times I've had in a long time.

I'm sorry, I haven't any pictures but if you're nice to me I might let you touch the ticket stub :D

LOVE,
WAHIDAH :D

Paychecks in July.

I kinda, sorta think I'm out.

It was, in a way, inevitable.

But, you know, it was good times.

And God forbids, I still love-

I'm just ... getting a little numb, that's all.

Another long, wordy whatsitcalled.

I am positively sick of listening to the same old fables, over and over again. And I bet so are you.

Driving up this 3 month highway is becoming increasingly sickening. Meeting new people have lost it's flavor, listening to the woes of people around me have lost it's initial purpose. Not being invited to parties of sorts have lost it's worrying factor.

I daresay I've moved on.

Tolerance.

How I became so tolerant doesn't cease to amaze me.

It sucks not having any emotion. Perhaps I was wrong about not wanting to have any emotions. I've realised that once you've shield yourself from any forms of hurt, somehow, you've also shield yourself from all kinds of joy.

Onward with things materialistic. As all of you know, my mother's taken away the net which explains for my long absence. I think the fact that I don't talk to certain people, or don't read certain things, or listen to certain songs, or even watch certain videos when I want to kills me a little.

I might sound like an over-dragged spoilt brat but the net has always been sort of like a river of life for me. It connects me to many different people I don't see everyday in school and by knowing what happens in their lives and telling them about mine gives me a sense of peace that the world is right and things are spinning the way they're supposed to. I might just make a good journalist after all.

The phone. Oh my God, I cannot tell you how much inconveniece, discomfort and grief not having a mobile handphone have caused me. It's not so much of the fact that people can't contact me, it's the fact that I can't contact people as easily as I used to. Now two crumpled sheets of papers follow me wherever I go - on it lists the contacts I have. Payphones have become a hassle to use and experience has taught me to carry 10 cent coins wherever I go.

And I think I need to move out soon because people are starting to treat my house as the 'dump your kids over here just because the man or in this case, woman of the house is a very nice or should I say overbearing person who won't say no to people's problems' place. Honestly. There isn't a single place where I can get a decent bit of privacy. Is that too much to ask? Just four walls and a door to keep the shenanigans out?

Damn it. Last night I'd just finish my shower. When I popped out of the bathroom, one of my uncle's kid rushed in yelling, "Urgent! Urgent!"

So with a towel wrapped around body, I ushered my mother out of the room. Being a person who hates being interrupted when on the phone, she waved me away. Fustrated, I ran to the third room but alas, my maid was doing her evening prayers. Mumbling furiously, I resorted to the kitchen toilet where I banged loudly, asking whoever who was inside to hurry up.

My sister replied in a very muffled voice, that she was shitting.

And as I stood in the hallway still dripping wet, I thought that this was probably the most cruel, and heinous scheme anyone could get into. I was freezing, naked (cept' for the towel which hardly provided any comfort) fustrated, and damn right ready to lash out at the next person who so as irritated me.

And up there I was talking about tolerance.

Didn't I tell you I was more tolerant now?

But guess fucking what. I suppose I'm not. When it comes down to having absolutely NO FUCKING ROOM TO GET DRESSED IN, I have to say I draw a line. I know my friends tease me about being reduced to a tent pitched outside school - but that's starting to sound like a fine idea to me.

And each and everytime I post, it's always some sort of long, dysfuctional post about this spiral of depression.

Not a very good image I'm potraying, now is it.

RANT, RANT, I WANT TO FUCKING RANT.

3 months. Shut up, everyone.

I understand, she understands, he understands, we all bloody understand. We have aspirations. Believe or not, all of us has dreams. Why we're not doing anything about it is because we were borne more human than everyone else and we are lazy pigs with no regard for our future.

Honestly, what has this world come to. I don't want to end up like some of the seniors. Dinky little people with extravagant laptops more concerned about fashion and being a bitch. I'm going to be well on my way there if I don't do something about it.

Jesus Christ. It sucks being human, doesn't it. The little things we fret about. Emotions, problems, shoes, jobs, money. What do we really strive for in our lives? Is it happiness? If it is, then we're doing a really terrible job of achieving it.

Or maybe it's money. Then what? After you get piles and piles of it - then what? Money is material. Material is cold, and hard, it doesn't warm your heart. Go, buy yourself a hooker or two, a pair of shoes, a car, a house. Material, material, material. After awhile, it all starts to depreciate. And it loses it's value. Then what?

Some strive for company. Of course, companionship is extremely important. But what if, like everything else, that one person you search for your entire life change. Oh yes. People, are the most unpredictable sort of disasters. They are, after all, human.

The O'Levels. Why people grey their hair over test papers is beyond me. (I'm probably going to end up with a 20 pointer or more but if I don't, I'm going to shove it up alot of people's asses when I get my results back.)

And teenagers. They're angsty, the only thing they want to be at the present moment is cool, and losing their virginity to a guy who smells of cigarettes and wears skinny jeans is probably, well, the most awesome thing ever. I am, of course, generally describing my lot & everyone knows that not every other teenager wants to single-handedly ruin their lives but you know, feel free to feel threatened to feel that I am, if fact, talking about you, you narcissistic superficial boobs.

So it sucks being both a teenager and human. I don't think things would get any better if I hit 20 either. Or maybe it would. But then I would go through the mid-life crisis which I heard, is far worst than whatever insignificant phase I'm going through right now.

And friends. They don't last very long, now do they. The minute common ground is lost, I suppose that's the last of late night gossips and mid-afternoon meals, opening a whole new path of awkward hellos and how's life been for the past 3 years. On the contrary, those who last - well, they're rare and here's rubbing it in your face that I've got one.

Oh yes, and for the record, and for the benefit of a friend - being a year older doesn't make you all the wiser. Be nice to those younger than you - because those are the people who are going to write about you when you die.