September 20, 2017


We get compared everyday.
Be it the physical being, the brain, or type of shampoos we're using.

As you grow older, most of your views in life, what is happening to you, has changed from what you had in mind before. Stigma and stereotypes have always been a base for us to judge (or not, your choice) of your surroundings. 

Since I was introduced to the first letter of the alphabets, I get compared to my elder brother who was at that time, a bit behind on his academic. I was quick with learning everything new. I was the one who started reading the Quran first during our Quran lessons, although he started a year ahead of me, I shone more academically and in sports when we're both in our primary school. I read more. I was 'more'. I was 'better'. 

Just because I was 'more', doesn't mean I was anything 'better'.
Same goes to physical being, appearance.

Back then during diploma years, I've been blessed with attractive room mates in college. I was the 'betty la fea'. Thus, was always compared between them. Throughout high school, I've never been so conscious on how did I look like back then and I was comfortable with myself. So when I got into college, getting harsh unnecessary comments and compared on my physical being were hurtful, as much as I tried to brush it off. Imagine being told right into your face "kau ni buruk lah!".

just because I was 'less', doesn't mean I was anything 'worst'.
This has slowly sank into my thoughts after I got the taste of real world and how it does not revolve around just a degree scroll and who wore it better.

It is only natural (and irresistible, too) to love beauty and intelligence. We were taught to strive for perfection. We glorify success and we admire what heaven bestowed upon its creations. We crave for the perfect ten. We demand all the nicest around us.

I learn to live with myself. I’ve accepted myself. 
I love the skin I’m in right now.

Comparisons will never stop.
Stigmas will be there, always. 

I don’t necessarily have to be pretty,
I just have to love myself.


I wasn’t the coolest kid around. I tend to be “poyo” or “try hard” growing up. I wasn’t myself. I was trying to please those around me, I tried hard for their attentions and would just make myself adapt with whatever that was going on so that I can fit in, so that I can be one of them. 

Primary school was easy peasy. You fought, you made up. You laughed again. Repeat cycle until you realised you’re no longer in primary school. This was where, I thought how my life would be forever. The innocence of little child.

Secondary school was where the challenges start. You developed hatred. You developed love. You developed feelings. While trying to find yourself in the middle of crowd you wanted to impress, eventually you’d lose yourself. This was where I developed myself.

Then college entered the picture. You found freedom. No one is looking over your shoulder, micro-controlling your life. You found out how to lie, what’s cool meant for you, you found out people hated you for next to no reason. This was where, I know myself.

It took me up until college years for me to understand myself. To see who’s worth to have in my life and who doesn’t. I realised I don’t have to impress anyone, except at work, I just need to be myself. I just need to improve myself. I don’t have to be cool for anyone. I just have to be me and do whatever that makes me happy. Like ice creams. Ice creams is my happiness. Those around you will stay for who you are. There’s no need to justify your doing.

I still cannot define the term “cool” among cliques cause what’s cool, actually? What does a person have to do to be “cool” in order to impress you? 

I can’t simply impress anyone. I can’t fit in just about everywhere. Nobody will find me interesting every time. I will make adjustment to myself when necessary. I learnt this when I got to know myself.

I don’t see myself as a “cool” person and don’t intend to be one in future. I like my bubble now. And if anybody gonna find me interesting/cool every time, I hope that anybody is the person I’ll be marrying to. 

March 10, 2015

two thousand and fifteen

It has been awhile!
I'm indeed, still alive and kicking.

Alhamdulillah, managed to complete my studies, despite all the drama I've been through last semester with studios and everything. Even the result couldn't make me happier.

Am not rushing to make myself sitting behind a desk, the 9-5 routine, even haven't start working on my portfolio yet. I've been busy. Sleeping. No, not really. Just kidding. I went straight home to Perlis after submitting my hardcover thesis to my coordinator, (bless you Doc Mat, for the marks you gave me despite the lousy student I was when you first met me), for my MUET exams and stayed for a fortnight. I've rarely been home since I started spending my sem's break working part-time. So, I took some time off, just to be with family especially for Mak. 

Between friends' weddings, eating, planning my future, we've (I live with my elder brother since I moved to Shah Alam five years ago) moved ourselves into new home, from Kristal in seksyen 7, to Setia Alam. I literally can walk to Setia City Mall, it is so near. So after MUET, I was busy moving, sleeping (I'm a Snorlax, what can I do? And I think I have a Jigglypuff trailing me from behind because I woke up with panda eyes every day now. Hmm.....) and driving back and forth to places. I guess, I'll just have to squeeze in some time to redo my portfolio works.

So far 2015 has been treating me nicely, I couldn't ask for more, Had an awesome birthday treat last December. Life has been such a bless. A bit short on money, but I've something in mind for that. Besides, Mak definitely wont let me starve to death I am sure!

I think I have to start exercising, getting myself physically fit. It has been years since I truly exercise. Starting with jogging, perhaps badminton dates, find myself a climbing partner or hiking. I have to! I need to! This body is turning weak already. Couldn't even walk so far without being breathless! Where did the 'fit puteghii' go to? *sigh*

p/s. does anyone actually read this (blog)? hmm.