Can you hear that?

Typewriter

16:41 - “To those who leave their homes in the cause of Allah, after suffering oppression, We will assuredly give a goodly home in this world: but truly the reward of the Hereafter will be greater. If they only knew!”

Sunday, July 26, 2009

Stop / 11:29 PM

I haven't been inspired to write a blog entry in days and I'm only writing this just because. I realise I hate it when my Ipod dies when I'm alone because there's nothing to stop me from thinking (whether I'm thinking too much into something or not). I feel so damn... yeah, damned. There are so many things that I want to accomplish in life and I don't know if I can accomplish it.

There's someone in my list of msn friends who isn't talking to me whether intentionally or not. I know he has work to do but today is a Sunday - his off day. Not once did he say hi whether through sms or through msn. It sucks to know he has a problem but he doesn't want to share it with me. It sucks that I can actually feel the large age gap between us. It sucks that he is one of the dearest friend I have and yet I can't even listen to his qualms. I don't expect much but now I'm actually questioning the meaning of the words you said when we first got back in contact. I might be thinking too much but that's why your a close friend.

On the way home today I imagined a story painted with me as the main character, surrounded all by familiar faces but one. That one particular face had a body of a girl in a summer dress with medium length hair. That same girl I didn't even know the identity was foreign to me yet I still feel so close to her and she was close to me. I was holding a cigarette which she took from my hand, stubbed it and threw it away as her tears dripped from her chin to my sand covered hands. I coughed a loud cough and my chest felt like I swallowed a hand full of pins. My head was spinning and my vision was turning black. But just for a second before I realise I was staring at her now and she was crying even more. She stood up and walked away leaving me there. One by one, my friends started to vanish. I scrambled to my feet and ran for her. She buried her face in her hands which I tried to pry. I gave up after awhile and just hugged her close feeling her warmth on my chest. For some reason, I was crying too.

See what I mean by thinking too much? So much for not being inspired to write a blog entry.

Hais... Today seems to be quite a grim day. I can't believe Yasmin Ahmad passed away. Those who've seen her films, understood and felt her message would know how saddening it is not to have her with us anymore. I never foresaw myself getting this affected but I am. I loved all her films and honestly, I cried watching some of them. She's a big inspiration whenever I'm thinking of a story to write or an idea for a film for my project. I really like the impression she's given me and I hope that God will forgive all her sins. Whoever can, please donate the surah Al-Fateha to this person who has inspired us so. May she rest in peace.

I am optimistic and sentimental to the point of being annoying, especially to people who think that being cynical and cold is cool. Everyday, I thank Allah for everyday things like the ability to breathe, the ability to love, the ability to laugh, and the ability to eat and drink. - Allahyarhama Yasmin Ahmad, taken from her blog: The Storyteller (now without one).