I miss you


Я скучаю по тебе , но ты мне не нужен. 

Skating

There are two ways home, from the park where i skate, one that doesnt require me changing my shoes, and another, that need me take my skate off, where my novice skill of inline skating doesn't really do any help with all the stairs and bumpy roads. It used to be never an option untill i brave myself to skate on the road along with the cars that i figured out another way home , without having to change my shoes.

Usually i go for the route that doesnt need me changing my skate, but there are days when im too tired to skate for  another kilometre uphill or when i just didn't have enough adrenaline to brave the road with cars or simply when i want to stop by for grocery shopping before headed home, i take the safest way home, taking my skate off.

Yes, it is the safest way home because, one time, i almost got hit by a car when im crossing zebra line on my skate, because the girl was texting while driving, and i cant do a quick turn yet at that time  and i just too novice to skate backwards and from my quick calculations skating forward is not helping either  given the acceleration of the car and distance between us, i need to skate with superhuman speed to save myself from the accident, as im obviously not a superhuman, the only thing i have is luck.

I know some people who doesn't believe in luck , and in fact , im one of them, well kind of, or maybe not really, well i believe its not luck that save me, its my fate, and it was written for me that I survived the accident, it is a religion thing, if ure not muslim than you're  probably dont understand what im talking about. Its called qada and qadar.

But, a piece of thought, when i look back on my life, i feel like im really lucky, blessed is the better word,  my life is a smooth journey, since i was small, ive been told that my future is bright, that one day i end up being one of those professions that pay better. And I am actually heading towards that bright future,  almost too smoothly. If you're like  me, who born with rezeki (again religious reference) more on our intellect side, and it feels like everything is leading us towards that bright future (read: having a good job) , havent u had that thought, maybe this is all blessing in disguise?

Or maybe i just need to think a bit optimistically, after all im an optimist person, too optimistic to classified it physiological, or maybe im just overthinking.

I love skating, its one of the reason why i love living in this little town. Back in my hometown, people dont skate,  and there's no park smooth and big  enough to skate, and every pavement is filled with car if not motorcycles. I dont like skating in one place around and around it's getting boring pretty fast. I wish i will settle down in a place with a park to skate, one like here, where i can travel kilometres on my skate without any risk of getting hit by vehicle, one with beautiful scenery, and one with few small hills, high enough to pump extra adrenaline out, but low enough for me to brave.

I learned a few trick from a friend that i met here in the park. Another reason to love my routine skating session, making new friend. But the funny thing is i can do few  tricks but i dont know how to break, i mean, practically i know how to, but when im accelerating im just to chicken out to even pull my leg, so in my head, it just to impossible to initiate a t-stop.

And another funny thing, i still have the gut to skate downhill even though i dont know how to stop,my worse fear would be bumping with those kids running freely into my way, or those cyclists who dont even bother to look  front or even passerby who walk side by side making a straight line blocking my way, or worse, a mother with her baby on stroller, can you imagine that?

Oh right, i didnt finished my story  about  that one time im almost got hit by a car. My life flashed in front of my eyes,  I remember thinking; so this is it, this is how i gonna die, what a stupid ending, but then the girl keep her eye away from her phone and into the road and I still remembered her terrified face and the screeching sound of the emergency break. And the car stop, just a few centimetres away from me.

And i know im just a few centimetres  away from death, but what was written is, its not my time yet, so here i am, alive, writing this post.

Habit

So, tell me, when did reading my blog become the habit of yours?

Hobbies.

''You have too many hobbies'' my friend said to me.

That explained everything about my poor social interactions, why i am such a bad  daughter, sister, friend and may even explained why i dont have boyfriend.

The hypothesis of number of hobbies is directly proportional to chances of getting a boyfriend is proposed by one of my friend the time we're discussing the possible reasons why im still single. the hyphothesis is not yet being tested, but is supported strongly by the theory when one is having too many hobbies, they have less of i-have-freetime-but-i-dont-know-to-do which then leads to boredom and then, the urge to look for other person that can entertain them, whether it is a friend, family or  maybe soulmate.

Lately, this thing get into my head more than anything, not about not having a boyfriend or whatsoever, about having too many hobbies. Because, lately i found myself distracted with my hobbies when i supposed to do something that is more important like studying or being a good  daughter, sister and friend in general.

This semester, i rarely give my full attention in classes and lectures, id rather keep myself busy with my hobbies in classes; like reading novels, writing stuff or even drawing instead of listening to the lecturers.

Maybe you think it is perfectly normal for university student to slack off, maybe you did it too or maybe everyone did it. But, being so used to be the proactive part of the class for the past semesters, the good student in me is screaming in disappointment, when i let the whatever-i-do-what-i-want-to-do me to take charge. it really bothered me because i started to feel like I'm losing my grip on this medschool thing.

Another thing about having too many hobbies do me bad more than good is; my social interaction. My mom thought i am  the least family person in the family and i cared more of my friends than my family  when the actual truth is i don't even care to text my friend unless there's something important, and in my defence, i hate texting and mom, if u read this, it is always family first before anyone else.

So, i wonder how many hobbies  could one have before their life fall apart behind their eyes, or maybe i need to stop blaming my hobbies when i have every authority to control my life, to decide which things is more important than the other or as you may say, the ability to set up my priorities.

Oh, and if u noticed that lately I've been doing many of this things like updating this blog, or the snaps of my sketchbook progress, or even the stupid video of me singing and playing guitar on my instastory, well, that was me being distracted.

Transparent thought

Currently im reading this novel, it is a 500 pages novel, and im reading it painfully slow. It has been 3 days since i started and i can barely make it to one fifth of the book.

I am a slow reader to begin with because i need to imagine every sentence into a small scene in my head, but the writer make it harder for me to create this scene, because  the writing is sort of ambiguous, ugh im sure there is better adjective but I couldn't think of anything better than ambiguous , and lot of times, i need to recreate the previous scene so it will transition smoothly to the next scene, i bet u didnt get it dont you, because im a bad storyteller just like the writer of this novel, i cant help myself getting angry reading the novel but in the same time thinking about the same abnoxious feeling people get just to have to communicate with me.

Actually ive been told few times that im bad at communicating, one of my friend said I explaining stuff as if my thoughts are not transparent. I am unaware of this untill people pointed it out to me. And now i really make sure people can see my thought as clear as day.  This sounds ambiguous right, i know, i guess i will never settled with this thought of transparent thoughts.

Soundtrack.

This afternoon, after classes and lectures, i sat down for some what i called de-stressing time, watching random viral videos and what the internet had to offer, and then, i came across this video, i cant remember the visuals, because the audio distractions is too loud, or  you can solely blame on my disability to remember short term memory. i mean i need to be really focused to remember anything and lately im having hard time focusing on stuff. idk why, age may be the disposing factor, but i'm still too young to support the theory. anyway that is not what i want to write about int this post. i want to write about the soundtrack of the video that i watched. if i have to describe it, it was a pretty boring, common soundtrack featured in many happy ads. but why did i want to write about it anyways, because, have you ever had that moment in your life that you feel like, for some brief moments, you were in movie, yea, thats what i felt, i felt like for a second, i was in a movie and that soundtrack was playing in the background, so maybe u can guess what kind of movie it is, yes, a boring, common, ordinary but  happy not so happy movie. this, i think, depicted what i want my life to be. yea, my life right now is pretty much boring and mellow, but i want it to stay that way, i dont mind a boring life, i just want to be happy and content. 

Distraction.

I read the sentence, for the 5th times, it was a simple sentence but non of it get into my brain. My brain was busy - destroying me, i tried to distract myself from thinking stuff i dont want to; things that made me sad, but my brain decided to keep the disturbing memories on repeat. So, when i read the simple sentence, it sounds as foreign as all that i saw and heard is the memories i don't want to remember. The memories; is not as awful as you would think, but i am weak, even little things can get me good.


I know the posts in this blog  sounds melancholic, but i always get a little bit creative when im sad, so i guess that explains everything.

Mediums

I wish i can paint my story with words, but i figured out words is not my strong mediums. i used to convey my feelings through my drawings, but lately my feeling speaks more than it supposed to feel, that i cant translate it into drawing. 

Karma didn't forget

I want to tell you a story, but im not a good storyteller. About my friends whom i saw before my very eyes that karma are eating them alive. I used to hope for it to happen but it was ages ago, and time heals everything they say, now the flames are all gone, but karma didnt forget,  that they need a lesson, but im afraid they never learn, because now, they about to start another one. So, i learnt not to wish them another karma but i wish for their heart not to be blind and for their mind not to be clouded by the jealousy, im not a threat nor their enemy.  

The thought.

"My dad.." she continued, they are taking invisible turn to tell story about whats our parents like when skype -ing. "My dad before i could asked him anything, the fon would be at my mom" she laughed  wholeheartedly and we all too.

"My dad too" Another girl said.
"Mine too" and another,, everyone in the rooms seems  to agree- that dad hardly spoke with them, and its the  mom who is always on the phone.

"Not my dad" i heard a voice in my mind. Yes dad was different, he could chat with us all day long. And i would tell him how was snow, how cold it was surviving the winter season  and even, i would tell him about what I have learned in school. Perhaps. But nobody knows.

 I want to say it out loud, "not my dad" but i am afraid I will ruin the mood, also, i avoid telling people about my dad, because i dont want people to think i try to get their sympathy. So i kept quiet.

I kept quiet but in my mind, im busy thinking what its like, if he is still alive. Maybe i can join them then, excitedly telling whts my dads  like. Im not sad, i think i need to tell you that. The thought of my dad sometimes makes me sad, but not that day.

then, this girl came from the kitchen, she has lost both her prents, i knew she heard everything all along as the kitchen is connected with the room we're  sitting , but she also kept quiet. Listening to others' story and laugh along, i dont know whtas in her mind, did she feel sad? Did she also busy thinking like me?

May my dad and her parents rest in peace.