redefining aura: live authentically.

it is tempting to feel dat life is a series of accomplishments and traits to be listed in dis day of social media and never-ending streams of advice. in a recent post, i saw a list of characteristics dat some say r characteristic of women who have a "aura". resilience, education, and independence r all admirable goals, but surely i was disturbed by the message's tone. underneath, it conveyed a disturbing message: ur value is conditional.

it implies dat a woman's value, or "aura", is dependent on how effectively she satisfies a predetermined standard. dat being valuable is about checking boxes. dats scary. however, isnt there more to life than conforming to the expectations of others?

my concern is dis: y is it dat we put so much stock in approval from others? y do we allow other ppl's opinions of us to determine how valuable we think we r?

truthfully, tho, life isnt about pleasing other ppl. it's about making sense of ur own path, in watever form dat may take. whether it's thriving professionally, loving a family, or appreciating the lil thgs in life, success is subjective. u are valuable regardless of wat other ppl think. rmbr dat.

to live an authentic life, u must embrace ur uniqueness, flaws, and decisions. being authentic results in a more luminous "aura" than tryin to fit in wit wat other ppl anticipate. and, living authentically means celebrating ur individuality, imperfections, and choices. the most radiant "aura" comes from being true to urself - not from striving to meet societal expectations.

life isn't a straight line, and wat makes one person's life meaningful might be very different from wat makes another person's life meaningful. the beautiful thg about life is dat everyone has different experiences, goals, and routes they choose. we feel more at peace and true to ourselves when we stop comparing ourselves to other ppl's ideas of happiness and start accepting our own.

at the end of the day, life is about living on ur own terms - w/o needing validation from others. it’s ur story to write, and only u hold the pen.

so yes, let’s stop living for others. define ur own version of success, and encourage others to do the same. after all, life isnt a checklist - it’s ur story to write.

--

so, wat does ur meaningful life look like?

anger.

 

u were doin ur usual run, when dat Oasis, wit their "Don't Look Back In Anger" playing in the background. at first, it seemed like jst another familiar song, one u'd undoubtedly heard a hundred times before. but dis time, it hit u differently. the lines "dun look back in anger" persisted in ur mind long after the song had ended.

it's strange how certain thgs, even ones u've overlooked in the past, suddenly take on new significance. those words, despite their simplicity, appear to hold tremendous meaning. they encourage u to pause and reflect - not on the tune or the words, but on ur life and the feelings u've experienced.

anger, after all, is a silent robber. it sneaks in, settles deep, and before u know it, it's everywhere u look back, transforming memories into regrets and lessons into responsibilities. but wat if u decided not to allow it? wat if, instead, u looked back wit understandin, acceptance, and somethg softer than the fire dat rage may bring?

looking back is unavoidable. sometimes u do it unconsciously, tracing the lines of ur history in order to make sense of ur present. u relive moments - some happy, some painful - and it's usually the pain dat lasts the longest. but the song challenges u to think differently. to look back, not to erase or dismiss, but to free urself from the rage dat has imprisoned u.

u recall times when anger has dominated ur perspective and blunted the edges of even the happiest memories. wat does it mean to let dat go? not to fcukin forget or fake, but to free oneself from its grip. cld u look back and find peace?

"dun look back in anger."

it's more than just a lyric; it's an invitation. a subtle reminder dat ur past does not hav to define u. u can hold it softly and not let it drag u down. u can be kind to ur younger self, despite the mistakes, heartbreaks, and missteps. not only to those u've met, but to urself. to the version of urself who did their best wit wat they knew at the time.

life is not perfect. it doesnt hav to be one. it's untidy, unpredictable, and frequently unfair. messy, like most of the time. however, even in the midst of turmoil, moments of clarity can emerge. like hearing a song on a quiet morn and realising it's not jst about the music; it's about wat it makes u feel. it's about the opportunity to breathe a lil better and allow light into the dark corners of ur memories.

perhaps dat is wat the music was attempting to convey all along. u no longer hav to look back in anger. u may look back and see how far u've progressed.

u were loved.

 

life has a way of making us feel small sometimes, especially when we’ve been left behind by those we thought wld stay forever. in the quiet of those moments, it’s easy to believe we are insignificant, as though our worth was tied to someone else’s presence. but, knw dis - if u’ve loved, even once, and if u’ve been loved, even for a fleeting moment, u carry within u somethg extraordinary.

someone once cared for u, held u, and saw u as more than jst another face in the crowd. u mattered to them. u were the reason for their smile, the warmth in their day, and maybe even the hope dat kept them goin.

sure, thgs may hav changed. maybe dat love feels distant now, or maybe it’s gone. but it doesnt erase the fact dat it was real. it happened. and it mattered - not jst to them but to u, too.

even now, as u feel adrift, understand dat love is not gone. it doesnt vanish wit distance or death or heartbreak. it lingers, quietly stitching itself into ur soul, reminding u of wat u meant to someone. dat’s ur proof - u were loved.

the proof of ur worth isnt in someone staying; it’s in the moments when they cldnt imagine life w/o u. u left a mark on someone’s heart. u touched someone’s life in a way no one else cld. dat doesnt disappear, no matter wat’s happened since.

so when u feel like nothg, remind urself: u were loved. u made someone’s world better. and even if thgs r different now, dat doesnt change the truth - u meant somethg, and u still do.

and rmbr - u were loved. always.

the love of a few.

maybe the world isnt all good. it is easy to feel dat way sometimes. i mean, hav u ever feel dat way, before? i am sure u did. life throws heartbreaks, challenges, and doubts ur way, making it hard to believe in the good. but if u hold my hand, i’ll show u it’s not all bad either. and, dat u r not alone, as well. there’s love in a few hearts, and sometimes, a few (not all) is all u need.  

the world isnt perfect - u’ll face unkindness, disappointment, and days dat feel too heavy. but even then, there’s light. it doesnt shout or stand out. it’s quiet, found in all those the little thgs: and unknown person prayin u well, a stranger holding the door, a fren’s unexpected text, or someone sitting wit u in silence when words cant help.  

u dun need the whole world to be good. u jst need a few good hearts. the ones who stay. the ones who see the real, unpolished u - and love u anyway. these r the ppl who make the hard days easier and remind u y life is fcukin worth it.  

it’s not about havin a crowd. it’s about the few who cheer for u when no one else does. the ones who remind u dat even when life feels overwhelming, u r not alone. their love is wat keeps u grounded.  

so when the world feels heavy, stop for a moment. look for the light. find ur few good hearts. they r the ones who make dis messy, imperfect world a little more beautiful.  

maybe the world isnt all good, but it doesnt hav to be. sometimes, the love of a few is enough.

be real.

 

dun show someone a future u cant giv them. life is messy, and relationships often come wit layers of complexity, but one thg shld always remain clear: honesty. if u r not ready for somethg serious, or if ur heart isnt fully in it, not sure wat it is - pretending otherwise doesnt jst hurt them; it hurts u too. it creates a cycle of guilt, resentment, and regret that no one deserves to endure - if u ever feel dat way.

take a moment to reflect on y u mght hesitate to be upfront. r u afraid of disappointing someone? r u unsure of wat u want? well, u knw these r valid feelings, but they dun excuse leading someone on. the kindest thg u can do for urself and the other person is to be truthful. if u r seeking fun or connection w/o long-term commitment, own dat. tell them dat. or if ur jst wanted someone by ur side, so u wldnt feel lonely - let them knw dat as well. if u r feeling uncertain about ur feelings or priorities, say dat too.

false promises, even if unspoken, carry weight. they shape expectations and build dreams dat r not rooted in reality. walking away when u knw u cant giv wats being asked of u is hard, but it’s a far greater kindness than staying out of obligation or fear. in the long run, it is the moments of honesty - however uncomfortable - dat build trust, even if it’s trust in ur integrity after the fact.

think about the kind of respect you’d want if the roles were reversed. wld u want to be strung along wit vague reassurances? or wld u prefer the clarity, even if it stings? relationships, at their core, r about mutual respect, and respecting someone means being willing to face the hard truths wit some fcukin grace. it is not about crafting a perfect narrative; it’s about being real, being fcukin kind, and being fair.

letting go hate.

 

hate is a strange thg. it doesnt hit u suddenly like a fever or creep in like a cold. it grows slowly, fed by anger, fear, or hurt. unlike most illnesses, tho, hate is one u can choose to heal from.

it often starts small - a grudge, a harsh judgment, or an old wound dat never healed. at first, u mght not even notice it. but over time, it spreads, eating away at ur peace and the way u see the world. and u knw wats the worst part? hate doesnt harm the person ur angry wit - it fcukin hurts u.

carrying hate is like drinking poison and expecting someone else to suffer. it clouds ur mind, weighs down ur heart, and leaves no space for happiness. yet so many of us hold onto it, thinkin it protects us, or feels justified.

but here’s the truth: u dun hav to let hate win. u can fcukin let it go. easy said? yes, it is. but someone gotta tell u dis, so dat u cld swallow it down and internalised it. 

healing from hate takes time and effort. it starts by asking urself, “y am i holding onto dis? wat is it costing me?” most of the time, hate hides somethg deeper - hurt, insecurity, or fear.

the cure for hate? understanding. empathy. forgiveness - not for the person who freakin hurt u, but for bloody urself. letting go doesnt mean forgetting or excusing wat happened. it means refusing to let it control ur life anymore.

imagine wakin up w/o the weight of hate. a much lighter heart. a clearer mind. more space for joy, love, and connection. hate steals ur energy, but lettin it go gives it back to u.

hate is the only illness u can choose to recover from. and when u do, the world feels brighter - not becoz it’s changed, but becoz u hav.

---

now cast dat smirk right off ur face, and dat "ko ckp mcm laa ko tak pernah benci org lain" kinda shyte. well i knw how it is. i am, too, a flesh and blood. but gez wat - i learn how to deal wit it well. and i am still learning. now, wats better than dat?  

peace, yaww

journey back to urself.

 

some days, i feel like i’m not entirely myself. i mght seem quiet, distant, or lost in my own thoughts. it’s not becoz of anythg u’ve done or becoz i care for others any less. it’s jst me, trying to navigate my own struggles, making sense of wat feels heavy in my heart. sometimes, it feels like my mind needs space to breathe, to process, and to heal.

i knw it can be hard to watch someone retreat into themselves. it’s natural to wonder if u’ve done somethg wrong or if u’ve lost ur place in their life. But i want to assure u, dis isnt about u. the silence doesnt mean i dun care. my distance doesnt mean i dun love. dis is simply me, working thru wat i need to, so i can come back whole.

if u’ve ever felt dis way, i hope u knw it’s ok. it’s ok to need space to sort thru ur feelings. it’s ok to let others knw dat ur distance isnt rejection - it’s a kind of self-preservation. we all need time to recharge, to be wit ourselves, to sit wit ur thoughts, and to rediscover the thgs dat keep us grounded.

to those who stand by me in these moments, ur patience and understanding mean more than words can express. i dun need fixing or saving; i jst need time. ur presence, even in silence, is a gift - a reminder dat i’m not alone in dis. thank u for waiting, for believin in me even when i struggle to believe in myself.

and to anyone else walking a similar path, take heart. these moments of quiet reflection r not signs of weakness; they r signs of growth. learning to love urself, even when it feels hardest, is one of the bravest thgs u can do. and when u r ready, u’ll find ur way back - stronger, clearer, and more urself than ever before.

per ur request: the final sunrise.

 

if today were my last day alive, i wldnt waste a second chasing dreams dat require years to build. i wldnt be preoccupied wit thgs like wealth, ambition, or the goals dat seem so important on any other day. no. today, i’d strip life down to its essence - wat really matters.

the morning wld begin like any other, but dis time, i’d savor every detail. i’d wake early before the sun rises, the house still quiet. as i stand at the window, the light of dawn breaking over the horizon, i’d remind myself dat dis is the last time i’ll see the world waking up. gratitude to God for every sunrise i’ve witnessed, for every breath i’ve taken, and for the gift of the ppl who hav shaped my life. in the quiet of the morn., i’d bow my head in prayer, reflecting on His endless mercy and guidance. i’d seek forgiveness for my shortcomings, knwing dat no matter how flawed i am, His love has always been constant.

my thoughts wld drift to my mum first, and my siblings - as they often do. the woman who gave me life, who taught me resilience and love in her quiet, steadfast way. i'd call her and tell her just how much she means to me. how grateful i am for her sacrifices, her strength, and her belief in me - even when i fcukin doubted my ownself.

and my wife. she, who has been my anchor and my partner in this unpredictable journey called life. i’d hold her hands a little longer, look her in the eyes, and tell her how much shes shaped me. how her presence has turned ordinary days into extraordinary ones. we’d laugh over the little things we’ve shared, the quirks and habits only we understand. and, perhaps, we’d sit silently for a while, saying more in the quiet than words ever cld.

my daughter, Damia, wld come next. my brilliant, determined Damia, who carries both my dreams and her own. i’d tell her dat i’m proud of the person she’s becoming - smart, compassionate, and strong. i’d share wit her every lesson i cld in the short time we hav left. i knw i'll hav all the regrets for there r so many thgs i wanna share, i wanna tell her, yet now i am not havin the time. i'll tell her to “chase ur dreams, but always rmbr to pause and appreciate the ppl and moments dat make it all worthwhile.” i’d remind her dat she’s capable of great thgs, but also dat it’s okay to stumble becoz every misstep teaches u somethg new.

perhaps we’d sit somewhere quiet, looking at the world passing by. i’d tell her about my own father (which i hardly do, to her), my journey, my mistakes, and my triumphs. i’d remind her dat while i may not be around trow, she carries me in her heart, in the way she approaches life, in the values we’ve shared.

as the day winds down, i’d find a moment alone to reflect. not on regrets - i’ve lived long enuff to knw they’re jst lessons disguised as mistakes. instead, i’d think about how lucky i’ve been to love and be loved. i’d think of the joy i’ve found in life, in helping others understand the world and themselves. 

i’d write, probably. jst a little. perhaps a letter for Damia, for my wife, and for my mum. somethg for them to hold onto when my voice is no longer there. not a goodbye, but a reminder: i was here. i loved u. and i hope i’ve given u enough to carry forward.

if today were my last day, i wldn’t spend running from it. i’d spend it embracing life - wit all its imperfections, its fleeting moments, and its raw beauty. and if there’s any lesson in this thought experiment, it’s dis: dun wait for ur last day to live like it’s ur last. the ppl u love, the moments u treasure, and the words u leave unsaid - they matter every day.

---

if today were ur last, how wld u spend it? becoz the truth is, we dun need to wait until the end to start living fully. we can start now.

per ur request: moments w/o meaning.

 

there’s a peculiar kind of silence dat creeps into the corners of our lives, kan? not the kind dat comes wit peace or rest, but the one dat settles in when the noise of purpose seems to fade. it doesnt scream; it whispers. a nagging, soft hum dat asks: wat r u doing? y does it all feel so still?

u r not sad - at least not entirely. nor r u lost in despair or somethg. it is more like standing in the mid of a vast, gray field, not sure where the horizon went. the days stretch long, yet u cant quite fill them. even when u smile, when u laugh, somethg feels unshaken beneath the surface - a quiet weight, unnoticed by others, but unmistakable to u.

it is not the kinda feeling u wanna talk about over coffee. u dun hav the words. how do u explain to someone dat u r not exactly unhappy, jst... untied? like a balloon dat’s not yet floating away, but is not held tightly anymore either.

but maybe dis is wat being human feels like, sometimes. to drift between moments of meaning, to lose sight of the shore before the next wave of purpose sweeps in. maybe dis ache, dis restlessness, is not the enemy. maybe it is the pause between two verses of a fcukin song - a space where u get to breathe, even if u dun knw dat u need to. even if u dun knw wat comes next.

it’s okay to feel dis way. u dun hav to rush to fix it, or push it aside. let the feeling be wat it is - a part of u dat doesnt need solving rite now. maybe it is jst ur mind asking for a pause, a moment to catch up wit everythg else.

and when it passes - and it will - u’ll find urself moving forward again, maybe even w/o realizing it. life doesnt always hand us clear answers or grand moments of clarity. but even in dis boredom, dis stillness, theres somethg quietly happening. 

rmbr - u r still here, still trying, and dats more than enuff, for now.

Friday morn: coffee, rain, and the gift of stillness.

 

the rain outside had a steady rhythm, a soothing patter against the windows. it matched ur quiet mood as u pulled yourself out of bed. the world felt slower, wrapped in a blanket of grey. there’s somethg comforting about mornings like dis - like a soft reset button for the day ahead. 

u got ready, moving thru ur routine wit a familiar ease. sending ur daughter off to school was, as always, a highlight. the little chats in the car, her laughter at somethg only she found funny, and her cheerful "bye walid.. assalamualaikum" as she stepped out. these small moments reminded u how precious time really is.

by 7 a.m., u were already at the office. it felt good to be early - jst u and the quiet hum of an empty space. mornings like dis always felt like a gift, a chance to gather ur thoughts before the rush. the coffee was the first thg u turned to, its smell ignited the whole shyte in u. dat first sip of coffee? bliss.

u checked ur schedule while the rain kept its gentle beat outside. jst one meeting today. dat was it. no long to-do lists, no looming deadlines. u smiled to urself - it is goin to be a simple, good day. sometimes, dat’s all u need: a day w/o surprises, w/o the pressure to do too much.

the rain din bother u; it felt like the perfect backdrop. a quiet Friday, a warm coffee, and time to ease into the day. there wasnt anythg extraordinary waitin for u, but dat’s where the beauty lay - in the small moments. the kind of day dat reminds u life doesnt always need to be exciting to feel meaningful.

u leaned back for a moment, coffee in hand, and let the quiet soak in. it wasnt a day for big plans, but for being present. for savouring the now. and as u sat there, u realized how often we forget to appreciate these simple mornings. the ones where life feels steady, and u can just breathe.

the rain wld stop, the day wld pass, but for now, there was peace in the ordinary. and maybe, dat’s where the real beauty of life lies.

---

hav a pleasant Fry-day, ppl!

choose those who choose u.

 

at the end of it all, it’s about the ones who stay - the ones who hold steady when the weight of the world threatens to bring u to ur knees. when life, as beautiful as it can be, suddenyly gets messy. it gets uncertain. and in those moments, it’s the ppl who refuse to waver who matter most.

it’s about the ones who dun shy away when thgs get uncomfortable or hard to talk about. the ones who r not jst there for ur laughter but can sit wit ur tears, ur doubts, and ur fcukin fears. the ones who, w/o hesitation, say, 'we’ll get thru dis together', even if they dun have all the answers. 

it’s about the ppl who see u - the quiet shifts in ur energy, the way ur smile doesnt quite reach ur eyes on tough days. they r the ones who check on u, unprompted, becoz they know ur silence too well. they dun wait for u to ask for help, becoz they understand u mght not always have the strength to ask.  

it’s about the ones who knw u better than u knw urself sometimes. they rmbr how u take ur coffee, not becoz it’s convenient, but becoz it’s important to u. they’re the ones who knw dat a simple gesture - a warm drink on a cold day, a text saying, 'ur on my mind' - can hold more meaning than grand declarations ever cld.  

it’s about the ones who choose to lean in, who dun back away when u r not at ur best. they stay. they fcukin stay even when u push them away, even when u r too exhausted to reciprocate. they dun see u as a burden; they see u as someone worth the effort. 

and isn’t dat the essence of connection? to be known and loved, not in spite of ur flaws, but becoz of them. to have someone say, 'i see u, i am here, and i am not goin anywhere'. it’s about the ppl who showed up and stayed. it’s about the ones who loved u quietly but fiercely, who chose u - not jst on ur best days, but especially on ur bloody worst.  

in the end, it’s always about the ppl who choose to stay. the ones who anchor u when the storm rages. the ones who choose u, again and again, simply becoz u r u. 

u gotta love those who choose u.

the weight of silence.

u were alone then, carrying a silence dat felt heavier than anythg u thought u cld bear. the days were long, and each one reminded u of wat was missing - of who was missing. the loneliness was sharp at first, like a wound dat wldnt heal. u sat wit it becoz there was nothg else to do, and though it felt endless, u waited. u waited becoz deep down, u knew somethg had to change. becoz deep in u, ur still hoping.

and it did. slowly, the silence began to shift. it wasnt so overwhelming anymore. instead, it started to feel like a pause - a quiet space where somethg new could grow. the loneliness din disappear, but it softened. it became less of an enemy and more of a teacher, showing u thgs about urself u hadnt noticed before. u began to see the quiet not as emptiness, but as an opportunity to rebuild.

u were alone then, and it hurt deeply. but looking back now, u see how much u grew. it was in those quiet moments dat u learned to listen to urself. u started to understand who u were w/o the noise of the world around u. u found strength - not becoz the pain vanished, but becoz u learned how to carry it w/o letting it fcukin crush u.

and even in dat loneliness, there were small moments of light. the way the morning sun slipped thru the curtains. the way a forgotten book brought u comfort. the way ur breathing steadied when u least expected it. those lil moments, though they seemed small at the time, were enuff to keep u going.

now, when u think back to dat time, it feels less like a loss and more like a turning point. it was a time when u started finding ur way back to bloody urself. u were alone then, but even in the stillness, u werent truly lost. 

u were becoming the person u needed all along - you were becoming u.

beauty of showin up.

 

there is no story but ur own, and the meaning u find in writing it each day. some days, it feels like u r typing into the dark, each word uncertain, each thought a flicker of light dat might vanish before it lands. other days, it feels effortless, like ur heart and ur mind have finally aligned, spilling truth onto the screen as if it’s been waiting all along. dat’s the beauty of it, isnt it? dat life isnt meant to be perfect - it’s meant to be lived - in the messiness, in the rawness, in the courage it takes to begin again.

ur story doesnt need to imitate anyone else’s. it doesnt need to fit neatly into chapters or follow some predetermined plot. it’s enough dat ur living it, shaping it wit every choice, every quiet moment of bravery, every dream u dare to hold close. even when the cursor blinks back at u, a silent challenge on a blank screen, or when ur thoughts spiral into doubt, the act of trying - of believin there’s somethg worth sayin - is wat matters most.

every word u type is a piece of u, a mosaic of who u’ve been, who u r, and who ur trying to become. and on the days when the weight of it all feels unbearable, when it seems like ur stuck in a chapter dat refuses to end, rmbr dis: u r still the author. u hold the power to revise, to reimagine, to create somethg entirely new, for ur own fcukin life.

maybe the most meaningful moments r not in reaching the perfect ending or crafting the perfect sentence, but in the quiet, vulnerable act of showing up. of facing the empty screen, letting ur fingers find their way, and trustin dat whatever comes out is enuff - becoz it’s u. and u r enuff. 

dat’s where the real story begins.

when listening leaves u lonely.

 

it’s a strange kind of emptiness, needing someone to talk to but finding urself sitting there, listening instead. u always tell urself that maybe dis time, they’ll notice - the slight hesitation in ur voice, the way u pause too long before answering. maybe they’ll hear the weight u r carrying, the words u dun say. but sadly, they dun.

U sit there, nodding along, as their stories unfold. u try to stay present, to genuinely care, because u always do. u always have. but inside, there’s dis quiet ache, a small voice asking, "when will it be my turn?". not out of selfishness, but out of dat very human need to feel seen, to feel like wat ur holding inside matters too.

and then comes the guilt. for feeling dis way. for wishing they wld pause, for they'd jst shut the fcuk up for a lil while, jst for a moment, and ask how ur doing. u tell urself their struggles r valid, dat they need u. and so, u push ur feelings aside again, swallowing the lump in ur throat becoz u dun want to interrupt their flow. but afterward, when the conversation ends and u r left alone wit ur thoughts, shyte the silence is deafening.

u wonder if u’ve made urself invisible - if u’ve become so good at being the one who listens, the one who understands, dat u’ve forgotten how to ask for the same in return. maybe ur too quiet, too guarded. or maybe u’ve learned, over time, to pretend everythg is fine, even when it’s not. and dat pretense has become so convincing dat no one even thinks to ask.

it’s not their fault, really. they’re not being selfish, and u knw they care in their own way. but it’s hard. it’s hard when the weight ur carrying feels heavier becoz u’ve been holding it alone for so long.

sometimes, u catch urself imagining wat it wld feel like if someone looked at u and said, “wat about u? how r u doing?” jst dat. simple, but so profound. 

maybe one day, u’ll learn how to ask for dat. to let someone in. to believe dat ur silence deserves to be broken, too.

wat if u jst..

 

there r so many thgs in my mind right now, swirling like unfinished conversations. i can feel them pushing against the walls of my thoughts, waiting to be let out. i wanna say them. i wanna write them. but every time i try, it feels like standing at the edge of an endless ocean, unsure which wave to follow.

where do u even begin when ur thoughts r a tangled thread? do u pull on the brightest memory, the one that makes u smile w/o meaning to? or do u reach for the heavier one, the one u’ve been carrying for too long? it’s not dat i dun knw wat to say - i do. it’s dat the weight of choosing feels so much bigger than the words themselves.

and maybe dat’s the problem. maybe we think too much about getting it right - finding the perfect way to say it, the right moment to begin. but what if there’s no perfect way? wat if u just start? not wit a grand story or some profound revelation, but wit the smallest bloody pieces of wat’s real.

so, wat if u jst..

the audacity of forgettin.

and u cant help but wonder - how can they jst forget? how can they jst walk away like nothg happened, like their words din cut u open and their actions din leave scars? they jst fucking erased it all, din they? fcukin moved on like it was a minor inconvenience, while u r stuck here, replaying it, feeling every damn cut over and over again. 

it makes u angry. furious, even. for being so foolish. and stupid. how dare they act like it wasnt real, like their actions din have consequences, like u were just a chapter they cld close w/o a second thought? u gave so much - too much - and they discarded it as if it was nothg. the pain they caused, the trust they shattered, the way they made u doubt ur fcukin self - it all lingers, and it burns.  

u hate them for it. u hate how easily they moved on, how they get to walk away from the wreckage like nothg happened. u hate dat they made u question urself, ur fcukin worth, ur bloody sanity. and honestly, fcuk them for thinkin they had the right. fcuk them for taking everythg u gave and throwing it back in ur face like it meant nothg.

but here’s the thg - u dun owe them anythg. not ur  fcukin forgiveness, not ur understanding, not even ur hate. let the anger burn. let it fuel u. let it remind u dat u deserve better than their bulshyte, better than the half-assed excuses and the empty promises they threw ur fcukin way.

feel it, own it, but dun let it define u. becoz wat they did says everythg about who they r and nothg about who u r. u r not the one who forgot. u r not the one who walked away. and dat makes u fcukin stronger. it makes u even bloody better.  

let them be who they r - selfish, careless, and small. u, on the other hand, r still here, still standing, and still fighting to rise above wat they did. dat’s power. dat’s resilience. and dat’s somethg they’ll never take away from u.

pray silently, on good thg for them. for one day, they'll see, they'll understand better. and they'll feel how exactly u feel.

carry dis, wit u.

 

dear damia',

rmbr, dis is jst the beginning. u have a long way to go, to explore, and there will be so much more for u to see. life will unfold in ways dat will surprise u, challenge u, and at times, even break u. but never let the weight of the world make u forget how to rise, how to breathe, how to simply be.

u r a story still being written, each page a testament to ur strength, ur courage, and ur dreams. the road ahead may not always be smooth - there will be moments when it feels as though the ground beneath u is crumbling. but syg, dat’s when u grow the most. dat’s when u learn to build wings from broken pieces.

dun be afraid to take up space, to ask questions, to feel deeply. the world will tell u to shrink, to fit into boxes, to silence ur voice. but rmbr, u r not meant to be small. u are meant to take dis life and stretch it to its fullest, to create beauty from chaos, to leave ur own bloody mark on the sky.

and as u journey, never forget dis: u r enough. not becoz of wat u achieve, or how perfect u think u need to be. u r enough simply becoz u r here, becoz u r tryin, becoz your heart beats wit purpose.

and yes, bcoz u r beautiful.

so go on, syg. chase the horizon, dance in the rain, write ur own story. and when u look back one day, may u see not jst a path walked, but a life fully lived.

i am proud of u, Nurul Aqilah Damia'. and i always will - no matter wat it is.

wit all my love,

-walid-

shld be sleepin.

 

the night is dark as shyte, and here u r, wide awake. u r staring into the damn blackness, hoping it’ll drown out all the shyte swirling in ur bloody head, but silence? it doesnt mess around. it jst sits there, throwing all the crap u’ve tried to ignore right back in ur face - the regrets, the hurt, the shyte dat never seems to let u breathe.

u r fed up, and u’ve got every right to be. u r sick of carrying all this shyte around, sick of the memories dat jst wont fade, the mistakes dat keep replayin. it’s like every messed-up moment u thought u’d left behind jst shows up, front and center, every single night. but maybe it’s time to face it head-on, to stop pretending dat dis shyte doesnt get to u.

these sleepless nights? they’re here for a reason. they’re here to make u stop running, to sit wit every damn bit of it, and let it rip thru u. because until u do, dis shyte is goin to keep following u. maybe healing is jst sittin wit all dis mess, letting it out, and realizing it’s part of u, but it doesn’t control u. 

not anymore.

so yeah, it’s brutal. it’s dark as hell. but dis is where u find out wat u r made of. because if u can stare down all dis shyte - the heartbreak, the screw-ups, all the pain u thought wld break u — and still stand tall? then u r tougher than any of it. dis is jst the ugly part of the journey, and u r still here, wading through it. 

and dat? dat’s some real strength.

..i wish.

15112024, 3.23am

own ur shyte.

 

the past is past. u cant fcukin change it, cant rewind it, cant take it back. but here’s the truth: it doesnt need to be fixed. the past din come to break u; it came to build u, whether u liked it or not.

every choice, every mistake, every heartbreak - all those moments dat left u wit a few scars - they’ve made u who u r. those scars? they’re not baggage; they’re proof u’ve been thru hell and kept going. they’re reminders dat life doesnt go easy on anyone, but u r still here. 

and.dat’s.fcukin.somethg.

the past isnt ur prison. it’s ur proof. proof u survived. proof u learned. proof u can handle whatever shyte comes next. u cant certainly rewrite it, but u sure as hell dun have to let it define u. rmbr dat.

so dun waste another second looking back wit regret or forward wit fear. stand up in the present and own every fcukin damn part of ur story. i mean, u gotta own ur shyte well. let the past sit in the rearview, but dun forget to appreciate wat it taught u. move forward wit it as ur fuel, not ur anchor, and build somethg real - somethg dat isnt tied down by wat’s already done.

no more regrets.

 

i dun regret wat i’ve been thru over the past three years. if anythg, i’m grateful. these years have been hard teachers, but i’ve learned more than i ever thought i wld - about myself, about ppl, and about wat it means to live honestly.

i learned dat sometimes u have to break to understand ur strength. losing my way wasnt the setback i thought it was. it was the beginning of seeing thgs clearly, a reminder dat i cld hold myself steady, even when life din give me anythg solid to lean on.

ppl who walked away taught me jst as much as those who stayed. they taught me how to stand on my own feet, to let go w/o bitterness, to be my own anchor when everythg else felt like it was slipping away. silence, too, has its lessons; loneliness showed me how to tap into a kind of strength i din know i had, to find purpose within myself instead of outside of it.

i learned about forgiveness - not jst for others but for myself. for every time i was too harsh on myself, for every mistake i thought i cldnt come back from. i’ve learned dat i could rise up again, and i have. i let go of that version of me who was jst doing his best to survive, who din know better yet. and i made peace wit my past, too.

now, here i am - a little scarred, a little bruised, but whole. i carry wit me the lessons of every stumble, every heartbreak, every long night spent wondering if it was all worth it. now i know it was. these years have built someone who knows his own worth, who isnt afraid to walk alone, who understands dat life is messy, unpredictable, and sometimes painful - but it’s mine, and i’m the one who gets to shape it.

healing, isnt a final destination. it’s a journey. it’s revisiting wounds i thought had healed, peeling back layers i’d tried to bury. it’s messy, it’s uncomfortable, and some days, it feels like tearing down everythg i’ve only jst begun to rebuild. but i trust the process now. i’ve learned dat growth doesnt always come easy and dat sometimes the greatest strength is born out of silent, unseen battles.

i learned to make peace wit uncertainty, to breathe even when i dun knw wat tomorrow holds. life doesnt come wit a guide, and maybe dat’s where the beauty lies - each day an unknwn road, each choice a brushstroke on a canvas i’m still figuring out how to appreciate. i’m not chasing perfection anymore; i’m chasing wat’s real. i want to show up as i am, grounded, unshaken, ready to face watever comes.

and more than anythg, i learned dat i am enough. even wit the scars, the flaws, the silent struggles - i am enough. i am worthy of love, of joy, of all the good thgs. not because i’ve done anythg extraordinary, but because i am here, and i am me. these years stripped me down to my essence, and now i see myself fully, w/o apology. i’ve earned dis peace, dis quiet strength dat sits deep within. it’s a testament to every tough night, every tear, every piece dat refused to give up.

maybe dat’s what life is. a series of lessons wrapped in pain and joy, in breaking and rebuilding. a journey to remind me dat i can stand tall, dat i am resilient, and dat, no matter wat, i will always find my way back to myself.

--

Befrienders Ipoh, 13 Nov. 2024/Wed.

and it's raining again.

 

stepping away from the hum of the office and the chill dat settles deep into my bones, i find myself leaning against the railing outside, watching the rain carve paths down the concrete. the clouds are gloomy, the winds blow steadily. everythg feels a little softer out here, the world blurred by the downpour. i look up, and there they r - birds, gliding thru the rain wit a kind of careless joy, unbothered by the cold or the wet. they seem to wear their freedom on their wings, utterly present in dis fleeting moment, as if they’ve made peace wit every drop falling around them.

i cant help but wonder wat it wld be like to have dat same freedom - to step into the storm w/o a second thought, no weight of wat waits back inside, no plans or fears or endless expectations pulling me back. jst a quiet surrender to the world as it is, rain and all. these birds, they move w/o hesitation, trusting the sky, trusting their own flight, undistracted by anything beyond dis very instant.

for a moment, i let myself drift into dat thought, let the rain soak into my skin as if it cld wash away all the layers of caution and restraint, the thgs we learn to carry, the pieces we feel we must protect. maybe there’s somethg to letting it all go for a while, letting ourselves jst be - right here, right now. i close my eyes and breathe in the damp air, imagining wat it wld be like to spread my arms wide, to meet the storm wit open hands, to let every drop remind me of a freedom dat’s still somewhere within, untouched by all the noise and weight.

and maybe, dat’s wat true freedom is - a moment like dis, where u dont try to escape the rain or shield urself from it, but instead, feel it, breathe it in, and trust dat, somehow, ur own wings will carry u through.

Sunday will be gone.

 

Sunday’s almost gone, and witt it, the last bit of quiet before the grind begins. the week waits for no one. it doesnt fcukin care how u feel about it, or how much u need the break. time’s moving, and it’s relentless. 

but here’s the thg - every Sunday dat slips away reminds u of one thg: dammit, u’ve survived. the week before din break u. u r here, standing at the edge of it, ready to face watever’s coming next. dat’s the real challenge. not wat’s ahead, but how u’ll meet it, how u’ll deal wit it, how u’ll push thru it. 

the noise, the deadlines, the ppl, the pressure - it’ll come, as it always does. and when it does, u’ll move. u’ll adapt. becoz Sunday doesnt last, but u do. rmbr dat - u do really u.

so, take the last minutes of today to rmbr dat. the week doesnt get to decide what u r capable of. 

u do.

it's Fry-day!

 

it’s Friday, ffs. the kind of day dat arrives almost w/o u realizing, yet feels different the moment u notice it. the week’s weight doesnt matter now - it’s already done, left somewhere behind in meetings, in routines, in deadlines ticked off and forgotten.

u step outside, and the air feels like it’s breathing wit u. there’s dis stillness, dis moment where everythg seems paused. u catch urself noticing the way sunlight hits the leaves, how each shadow stretches lazily, as if it too is done wit the week’s urgency. ppl walk by, heads down, faces tired, but there's a small relief there too, a quiet understanding dat we’ve all earned these next two days.

u take ur time. maybe dat’s the point - Friday’s not asking u to be anywhere, not pushing u forward or dragging u back. it’s jst here, reminding u dat sometimes, it’s enough to jst be still. to notice the sound of footsteps on the pavement, the way the afternoon light feels on ur skin, warm and grounding.

dis is wat Friday’s meant for, maybe. for pausing, for gathering up wat’s left of the week, and leaving it behind. not in a dramatic, throw-it-all-away sense, but more like setting it down, knowing it’s done. there’s a quiet satisfaction in dat, in letting the day be jst wat it is w/o adding anything extra. 

it’s jst u, a little more present than u've been all week, letting Friday be exactly wat it is.

hav a good one, ppl!

shyte well.

 

if u're gonna shyte, then dammit, shyte wit all u've got. if u can't do it right, then jst keep ur ass on the bench. life doesnt need more half-assed efforts or lukewarm tries. mediocrity is a choice - one u make every time u step in w/o the guts to follow thru.

either show up wit fire, ready to own those shyte, or stay out of the game entirely. no one needs ur weak, watered-down attempts. 

go big, be relentless, or get out of the way.

---

there. i've said it.

pls be okay.

 

a stdnt texted me last night, asking, "𝑠𝑖𝑟, ℎ𝑜𝑤 𝑑𝑜 𝑢 𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑑 𝑎 𝑏𝑟𝑜𝑘𝑒𝑛 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡?" i was contemplating to answer, but i did anyway. i told him/her there’s no single way to deal wit it. dat he/she jst hav to face it, let urself feel it, even dance wit it, in a way. it may never go back to the way it was before, but somehow, it’ll heal. or maybe it won’t - not fully, anyway. dat’s the hard truth. 

and he/she replied wit a sad face emoji.

i wish i cld tell her/him dis - dat u dun rush it. u giv it space to breathe, even when it feels like breathing hurts. u sit quietly wit it, like an old fren who needs to say thgs they havent quite found the words for, yet. u let it ache, let it speak to u in the moments when the world goes silent and u can feel every beat as if it’s fcukin ask u to just understand.

u tell it the truth: dat it’s okay to feel lost, cracked open, maybe even a little angry. dat it’s okay if the world feels unfamiliar for a while. u remind it of the strength dat’s hidden in its bruises, the resilience dat got u dis bloody far. u’ve walked thru storms before. dis is just another one, and while it’s different, u’re still u. jst a little more weathered, maybe, but freakin wiser too.

some days, u’ll wonder if it’s ever going to feel whole again, and dat’s alright. the truth is, it mght never be the same. but dammit u learn dat broken hearts r not somethg to be ashamed of - they’re proof dat u loved, dat you cared, dat u were fcukin brave enough to hold onto somethg dat mattered.

in the end, u mend a broken heart by letting it reshape itself, by seeing beauty in the scars and the spaces that were once full. u realize dat u’re whole, not in spite of the cracks but becoz of them. every fragment tells a story, and somehow,ou’re still here, still moving, still learning. and maybe, i mean maybe - dat’s all it ever needed to be - jst u, moving forward, piece by piece, finding ur way back to urself.

i hope he/she will be alrite. for nobdy says it's easy.

it's raining, again.

 

it’s raining again. outside, everythg seems softer, as if the world’s taken a pause to reflect, letting the edges blur a little. each drop feels like a reminder, carrying wit it memories u’d thought u’d tucked away. u watch them trace patterns on the window, lines dat cross and part, like ppl who once mattered, but have drifted into their own paths. 

rain doesnt simply fall; it’s drawn down, pulled by somethg dat doesnt let go. it’s not so different from how we r pulled back to certain moments. a look. a word left unsaid. the feeling dat we were almost there but not quite. u catch urself wondering if maybe u r a bit like dat, too. sometimes drawn back to memories u thought u’d moved past, each one wit its own weight.

yet, somehow, the rain is calming. there’s somethg about the sad, gloomy sky, and the steady rhythm dat brings perspective, reminding u to let thgs be - to trust dat even the darkest clouds break eventually. sometimes, maybe dat’s all we need. jst a little rain, a bit of stillness, to make room for watever comes next.

it’s raining again. and maybe dis is exactly wat the world needs.

Tuesday.

 

it’s Tuesday.

there’s somethg quieter about Tuesdays, isnt it? i mean, the Monday’s rush is over, but the week is still stretching out ahead, steady, unhurried. today isnt asking for some freakin, grand gestures or big decisions. it’s more like an open invitation to jst keep moving forward, in ur own, bloody time.

maybe today’s the day for a small commitment - one dat u can actually see thru. tt doesnt hav to change the world, jst somethg to remind urself dat each little step adds up. dat each little step, do mean somethg. even the small thgs can carry weight. right?

let urself notice wat u r holding onto, the thgs dat hav settled on ur shoulders w/o asking. not all of it needs to stay. imagine letting a few thgs go, jst enough to feel a bit lighter, a bit more like urself.

and when u check the clock, try not to think about wat’s done or wat’s left to do. take a breath instead. rmbr, every bit of time, even these quiet, ordinary minutes, is part of somethg bigger, somethg u r building - one Tuesday at a time.

hav a good one, lovelies!

jst as u r.

 

in a crowd, u carry confidence like it’s part of u, steady and strong. it fits easily, almost naturally, as if being surrounded by others pulls out a version of urself dat feels whole, unwavering. there’s a pulse in the air, a silent exchange, and u can feel it - a sense of belonging, of purpose. in those moments, standing there, u’re grounded, secure, like u’ve found ur place among them.

but then, when the crowd fades and u’re left alone, the feeling shifts. solitude sits heavy, and the silence feels thicker than u’d like to admit. the confidence, so solid jst moments before, starts to fray, unraveling into questions, into second guesses. u find urself replaying the words u spoke, the looks u gave, and suddenly, they dun feel as certain. alone, u’re no longer shielded by the energy of others. it’s jst u and the parts of urself u often tuck away.

in dat quiet, there’s a rawness dat’s hard to ignore. it’s uncomfortable, dat stillness, but there’s also a strange honesty to it. alone, u confront the pieces of urself the crowd doesn’t see - the edges, the doubts, the hidden fears. and yes, it’s a vulnerable place to be, standing face-to-face with all dat’s imperfect, all dat’s unresolved. 

yet somehow, in dat honesty, there’s a strength, too. a quiet reminder dat even in the solitude, u’re still here, still breathing, still learning to be enough - jst as u r.

hav u ever?

 

hav u ever felt sorry for being urself, as if every flaw and every choice lingers in ways only u can see? 

u catch urself in the mirror, wondering if u’re enough, if u’re still growing into who u need to be.

but maybe it is ok to feel dat weight. maybe being urself means carrying both the wild and scarred parts, constantly reshaping. 

in those quiet moments, when u let urself jst be, yu realize - probably u’re enough. u’ve come dis far, and dat alone is worth holding onto.

#goodnyte.

hope.

 

sometimes, u find urself drifting back to dat place where it all began, hoping they’ll walk in, and u can slip back into those moments, again. u linger there, a quiet figure, searching the faces of strangers wit at small, fcukin stubborn hope dat maybe - maybe  today they’ll come looking for u. 

but when u finally turn to leave, there’s a heaviness in ur step, as if the weight of every unfulfilled hope is pressing down. 

it must tear u apart, dat feeling - the hollow ache of walking away - alone; emptier than when u arrived.

ru ok?

 

there’s something profoundly courageous about sitting in that moment, staring into the depth of ur own struggles. 

it’s not about being endlessly optimistic; it’s abt allowing urself to be honest, to acknowledge dat sometimes, thgs r difficult, and dat’s perfectly valid. 

the world often demands resilience, encourages a smile, and pushes “positivity” like a cure-all. but the fact is, the real strength lies in admitting when life feels heavy, in giving urself permission to feel, to breathe, to exist within dat discomfort w/o forcing a quick fix.

it’s okay to have moments like dis, to not have all the answers, and to simply let urself be human. 

coz u knw y? coz sometimes, dat’s the bravest kind of healing.

a POV

 

it’s really not so bad. if u feel like being sad, join me and we can write somber songs together. or we cld jst sit and watch movies. u dun need to worry about bringing me down – i’m already there. 

i’ll watch the darkness wrap you, and you can watch it engulf me, too.

2 mths to go!

 

jst two months left, only a few weeks standing between now and another year. memories start to pile up, like tryin to pack too much into a box dat refuses to close. some thgs we’ll leave behind, others we cant bear to part wit, and still others we’ll press quietly into ourselves, hidden deep like petals between pages. maybe we tot we'd be somewhere else by now, or that flipping the calendar wld somehow reset thgs, bringing somethg new wit each season. but here we r, finding dat every January carries the familiar weight of the last.

yet, there’s somethg beautiful in dat quiet realization: time isnt here to fix us - it’s here to let us keep moving. we r not racing toward January; we r filling it, bit by bit, wit all the parts of us dat hav been gathered, let go, or held too tight.

the year’s turning reminds us dat we’re soft at the center, unfinished - and maybe dat’s exactly the point. we dun have to arrive in one perfect piece; we only need to keep moving forward. time isnt here to pin us down but to add depth, to color our journey a lil more wit each day. let January, February, and March come, carrying the parts of us dat hav learned, grown, and, most of all, cont'd.

and when the next year arrives, we’ll be ready. we’ll knw dat our past years, all those previous versions of ourselves, r not lost. 

they’re held close, a story dat only we can tell.

u cant sleep?

 

in the quiet of the nite, pieces of urself start to gather - the parts u left scattered in the rush of the day. maybe dat’s y sleep seems so distant; the night isnt jst dark, it’s a time when those fragments reappear, lying beside u like gentle reminders. 

u dun hav to understand them, not now. jst breathe. lie here in dis space where nothg is demanded, where everythg can simply, pause.

sometimes, rest isnt abt falling asleep. it’s abt allowing urself to be unfinished, to be a work in progress. 

and maybe, jst maybe, dat’s enough.

- now, go to sleep.