I Hate

This short and exaggerated-to-some-point story is the result of something that has happened some few hours ago and of me reading this book called "The Time of My Life".

"I hate soy milk," I sighed, pouring some of the disgusting liquid into a glass and sipping it.

"But you're drinking it," Z said matter-of-factly.

"I still don't like it," I exclaimed, draining more of the liquid down my throat.

"But you're drinking it," Y pointed out as if it was not obvious enough.

I shrugged.

The whole dinner had been fabulous, and now we're filling up some empty spots in our stomach so we could go back feeling bloated as ever. We discussed about the past and the present and the future, joking about what has happened and what was happening and what we thought would happen someday. I didn't want the night to end.

"Hey, you can't have the chips all by yourself," W blurted, clearly devastated by the sight of the depleting Lays. "Pass it over here will you?"

F handed it over to Z who passed it to Y who gave it to K before the chips got into my hands.

"You know what, you guys can finish these off," I said over a mouthful of chips. "I don't eat these kind of junk."

"But you're eating it," Z and Y announced, already annoyed by me.

I don't get it. I don't eat junk food. I really don't. What's their problem? So I took a handful of the fat-saturated chips before handing the almost-empty packet to W. 

"There. See? She says she hates soy milk yet she chugs it down like it's her favourite drink," Z started on a rant. "And now she claims that she doesn't like junk food but she eats it right in front of our eyes. What is it with you?"

"Stop overreacting will ya?" I decided to remain calm about it.

"I hate soy milk," Y imitated me.

"I don't eat junk food," suddenly it was a let's-imitate-N Day. And nobody even told me about it.

"I don't like P"

There. As simple as that. No explanations needed. It was all implied. Only those who have been with me all these years would be able to read between the lines. That W was suggesting that when I say that I don't like P, what I really meant was that I liked P. W was using the deduction and induction method, generalising statements and generating new statements based on the general formula obtained by induction. Based on W's theory, the I-hate-soy-milk and I-dont-eat-junk-food were opposites of what really is, so the I-dont-like-P is also the opposite of what really is.

Only W's theory has flaws everywhere. I really do hate soy milk and I really don't eat junk food. Period.

But I was too late to justify my stance because by then everyone at the table had agreed upon the theory and laughed at it. It seemed only too true and applicable in their eyes and ears. To not make things worse, I decided to let it pass (because bringing it back up would mean that I care about the theory and being silent would imply that I don't give a damn).

The night still went on well. More shared laughter and shared stories. The only thing that we lacked was tears. Well, tonight was not the right time. But that time will come. Eventually. Soon. Or later.

I went back to my room feeling very well pleased by the time well spent. My roommate has yet to arrive, so I had the room all to myself. I brushed my teeth, prepared for bed, turned off the lights, slammed on the bed and initiated my train of thoughts.

I don't like him but I place a mental note each time he is present or is not present or is sick or is unavailable for the day.

I don't like him but I have to fight the urge to call him or text him or look at him or think about him or talk about him.

I don't like him but I know that he wears blue on a Monday, yellow on a Tuesday, green on a Wednesday, Purple on a Thursday, Beige on a Friday, Magenta on a Saturday, and Orange on a Sunday.

I don't like him but I have to find evidences to win the debate against the other side of me saying that I do like him

I don't like him but I spend some of my time before bed just to remind myself of the things that should be known to me about him.

Okay I do like him. I like him with all my heart and there's nothing anyone can say or do that can make me like him less. I like the way he smiles and the way he laughs and the way he speaks and the way he jokes and the way he talks and the way he can make me feel better after having a bad day. I just like every part of him and now I miss him because he's no longer here. He has moved to another school. He has another life. He has other friends, other people to joke around with and other people to talk to. But even after months of his departure I still can't get rid of the thought of him because he once told me that he liked me too.

Okay I lied. And I'm not good at lying so you might have known that I lied from the very beginning. I do despise him and there is absolutely no way that it shall be otherwise. End of discussion.

And now for the beauty sleep that I so well deserve.

Good night

“You don’t believe things because they make your life better, 

you believe them because they’re true.” 

-Veronica Roth, Allegiant

Tangis

Mungkin sebab terasa, aku mudah menangis
Mungkin sebab kecewa aku mudah menangis
Mungkin sebab tekanan aku mudah menangis
Mugnkin sebab sesalan aku mudah menangis
Mungkin sebab harapan aku mudah menangis
Mungkin sebab amarah aku mudah menangis
Mungkin sebab lemah aku mudah menangis
Mungkin sebab insaf aku mudah menangis
Mungkin sebab kalah dengan emosi aku mudah menangis
Mungkin sebab aku seorang wanita aku mudah menangis
Mungkin sebab hakikatnya aku seorang manusia,
Aku mudah menangis

Awkward Hugs and Fake Smiles

"Hey, I'm T. What's your name?" she said, her eyes glittering with the excitement of meeting someone she has never met before in her life.

"Oh um, Nuraini,"

"Hi nice to meet you. Where are you from?"

"I'm from PERMATApintar"

"Oh," she paused for a fraction of a second, wondering whether to continue asking what the heck this PERMATApintar is or to just let the question linger in her brain until she finds the right time to ask again.

"How old are you," she chose the latter.

"Seventeen,"

"Wow!" she exclaims in utter disbelief.

"And you?" I ask just to make the conversation look more of a conversation and less of an interview.

"I'm 20 - man I feel old," the look of astonishment is still present on her face. "So that means you're not taking SPM?"

"No. Well, yeah actually I did last year. Only that I took two subjects,"

From the gap in her mouth I can tell that she has a problem taking 'em all in. "So the two subjects are?"

"BM and Sejarah," I say. "Because those two subjects are 'wajib lulus SPM' subjects," I continue, knowing that the word "why" would be dancing in her mind.

"So is everyone not taking SPM?"

"Oh no, no. The group who are going to fly this year (insyaAllah) are called the fast-track group. The others in our batch take SPM"

"So now you guys can go prepare for Iftar and we shall proceed with solat Maghrib, Isyak and Tarawih," announces the Amira of the program.

"It was nice talking to ya. See ya later," she walks away and joins her peers.

And I'm left alone.

Not that I mind being alone - I'm quite used to it already. I'm attending this 3-day program all on my own by the way, unlike the others who has company.

I remember a few years back I used to try my best to make friends every time I go to programs like these: camps, workshops or anything similar. I tried so hard that I knew I was trying to be someone else - someone who does not suck at making friends - so I won't end up a loner.

But throughout these past year or past few months of self-discovery, I finally realised that it's just not how I roll. I'm not the friendly type, mind you; I'm the quiet and shy type. The type of people who would rather just stay silent if he/she has nothing better to say, because the fact is, they don't even know what to say! I'm not verbose; I don't easily produce words from my mouth.

And now I was finally able to accept that part of me. To not be embarrassed if I was unable to find a companion because to me, I don't need to actually find one; friendships should be built naturally. Let Friendship blossom with time.

Don't get me wrong though. I may not talk as frequent as the next girl does, but I still allow room for them to get to talk to me, like sitting together with them during meals even though I hardly ever talk to them unless they start talking to me. I speak when I'm spoken to.

I can't make friends easily, unlike some people who do it with the grace of a mamak flipping roti canai. No. That's just not me. But I do like having friends; it's just that I don't like making them or finding them. As I said earlier, let Friendship blossom with time.

I'm not saying it's wrong to actually go out there and find new acquaintances. It's good to increase your number of contacts. I'm simply sharing with you the fact that I find it really tough to make friends on a first meeting and would rather go with the flow (if that's the right term).

*****

"We have come to the end of the program. Thank you all for such a wonderful experience. Now let's get into a circle and we'll start the goodbye salam (salam perpisahan? :P),"

So there I am, standing beside some people I by then have their face and characteristics memorised, putting so much effort in creating a smile that'll convince them that yes, I did have a good time here, because as a matter of fact, I did have fun.

Hugs

Smiles

Goodbyes

Good luck wishes

Take care wishes

Hopes that we'll meet again one day

I don't like lying, so I either nod and smile or simply respond with a "yeah, you too" to their wishes.

Phew! That's finally over.

Now don't blame me. 

It's just how I roll.

Anger Management

Someone I know once said to me:

I used to have anger management issues. Even the smallest spark of anger can make me burst like hell. Sometimes I believed that my body was manufacturing explosives that just can wait to get detonated. I mean seriously, who the hell gets angry over an out-of-reach remote control? Okay, so maybe a majority of couch potatoes do, but how many actually spank the remote control for being such a "naughty little thing"?

Fun-ny. Makes me laugh every time I think of it. And my anger gets worse by day and by weeks and by months and by years until I actually experienced heartache. I took no initiative to control myself. But somehow, by the light that God sent to me, I realised that anger only makes me feel worse, and it's me that should face the consequences, not the person/appliance that I'm mad at. To cut things short, I started to remind myself whenever I get angry. To not make a fool out of myself. To not be such a bratty, insolent child. To try to stay calm whenever possible.

And (surprise, surprise) it worked! It feels good to not have this blaze in your heart and in your mind and in everywhere around your body. Sure, you get pissed off once in a while, but that's still not a reason to go haywire. You can either continue getting yourself pissed off, or you can choose to skip all the nasty words and foolish actions and go straight to smiling and forgiving.

Trust me, you'll be amazed by how wonderful this world is if you can control your anger.

Not her exact words, but it carries the same message. Her advice has also helped me a lot in dealing with situations that do nothing but get on my nerves.