The Itch

The itch to blog was irritating. I simply can't bear it. So, I blogged after having my ifthar, shower, daily dose of reading and out of stupidity and sheer annoyance.

I love to post pictures in my blog since I'm obsessed about them. Not pictures of myself evidently. I usually take pictures on a daily basis, of almost everything that managed to capture my attention, curiosity or interest. I blog to relieve stress, to discover a new me, to see for myself who I really am over time. It's a good way to know whether I have spilt-personalities or not. And it's even a better way to know who I really am. I'm a rather complex person, truth-to-be-told, and not many people understand me. I hope, by blogging, some people will.

I don't seek stardom or attention, but I like my blog to be decorated with emotions, expressions and colours in the form of images and words. I am not a professional in the areas of art, photography or writing, but I find myself enjoying those times when I type non-stop and snapping pictures. Singing, to me is a very different thing compared to all of the previous activities. Singing a song alone is not even half the fun of singing it with your friends. When I indulge in singing, almost every other person is welcomed to join or listen (am not implying that my singing is so good), but when I write, draw or photograph, I prefer to be left alone to express myself freely. Unless I'm working with people (say, taking pictures of people). There are some things that are best to be done alone.

I haven't given much thought on certain things and I am not going to. I realistically do not need to torture my soul with such venomous thoughts and emotions. May the fire in me ceased to embers and ashes. Let water and air flow through me, healing the scars and reducing the pain. I shall bury the throes of the past. Never to be exposed in daylight again. All dead. Gone forever.

Ah, freedom of expression....Can we really achieve it? Is there a possibility?
I can't even express myself freely in my own blog, as nothing is really safe in this pretty ugly world. Hence, what is freedom of speech and expression? I can only wonder and yet, receive no answers that could satisfy my curiosity and thoughts.

The insanity in me was unleashed since Monday, and it got worse today. Was indulging in self-lunacy, too self-obsessed to do anything other than disturbing the semi-peaceful environment in class. The deranged side of me was at one of its peaks, and it acted rather effectively as a well-concealed facade to mask my developing depression and insecurity.
Could not stop talking and laughing in class. Attendance was an all-time low and I wasn't shocked to see three quarters of my classmates gone. I've been very noisy lately, much to my friends' delight and horror (more to horror). Maybe the slight increase in voice volume made them squirmed in annoyance. Well, I wasn't the only one who made noise anyway.

And here's another batch of pictures of yesterdays bazaar Ramadhan.




wawa in attempt to run away from my snapping moment.


and last but not least me and my friends (from left: me, myra, wawa, dalilah)