Currently Playing: Stone Sour-Through Glass.
(Note to Lutfi: Not bad. You’ve improved in music taste.)
I finished a book today. I’ve got to admit, the feeling of finally turning that last page felt so foreign to me. I don’t remember the last time I finished a book after reading it consistently. I’d just start on one, drop it for a while, find another that piques my interest before abandoning that one to restart on the earlier book. If I’m lucky, I get to have the luxury of finishing them both.
It’s like what Ely said. Law requires us to do so much reading that in the end, what was once a pleasure becomes a chore. When you’ve stared at so many tiny-font words trying to make some sense out of it for so long, cracking open another book to relax becomes the last thing on your mind.
I suddenly feel robbed.
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It’s the school holidays and my siblings are running restless. I sent them to OU with Ummi in tow today so that they could avoid parking problems, but driving back was hellish. That was some traffic jam at the BU-TTDI cross junction. Add to that the Malaysian Driver Syndrome, and we have ourselves a thumping migraine and an urge to scream bloody murder. Apparently, everyone’s in the holiday mood. As for me, the finals are coming up in a couple of weeks time. Not in the least looking forward to it. Honestly, where has this semester gone? Wasn’t it only yesterday that Yani and I trudged up to our room and collapsed, too tired to celebrate, after that last Probate I paper last semester? Time sure flies.
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"Every song carries a face with it…"
-Dolores Price, protagonist of She’s Come Undone.
This is one of the many lines I remember from the book I’ve just finished, mainly because that was exactly what was going through my head when I went out for errands and a quick spin this morning.
For instance, Z always texts me whenever Damien Rice’s The Blower’s Daughter comes on because it reminds her of me. I can’t listen to Kanye West’s Golddigger without recalling how Yani had bopped her head to the beat at 7.30am while I stared on, amazed. Fergie’s Glamorous would paint Aidil’s picture for me outside Land Law class, Jet’s Look What You’ve Done represents Abby and I having breakfast at UKC Cafe back in matrics, and Switchfoot’s On Fire takes me to Murni taking a long walk with me back to our mahallat one night.
I suppose this is what songs do–they’re like a photo album, or a sort of Time Machine to help you go back and retrieve a memory that’s been stored away and long forgotten. It’s like a stimulant that jolts you back into that past thread; that wrinkle in time.
Recalling how things were once and knowing how things are now isn’t always a happy experience. Going back isn’t always easy. Seeing how happily-ever-afters are closer to fiction than fact darkens the world a little more every day. And undoubtedly, it sometimes hurts.
But then:
Nothing’s perfect… The world’s not perfect. But it’s there for us,
trying the best it can. That’s what makes it so damn beautiful.
-Mustang, Fullmetal Alchemist.
So maybe that’s how we can look back to our past. By seeing what was and what is, taking the good and leaving the bad, understanding that experience is a teacher and ultimately accepting circumstances out of our control.
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I asked a mate: "Would you rather the car crash or the traffic jam?"
He replied: "A breakdown in the middle of a traffic jam."
I laughed.
"Good one."
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Next time I feel the urge to open my mouth about feeling like a head case, I’m just going to swallow my words back, one by one.
Kenapa?
Sebab bising.
Enough said here.
