Headaches are a pain in the ass, not to forget my sinus.Once I get my migraine, productivity goes down the drain. I hate the fact I'm typing a blog post instead of studying my Pre-Calculus. I can't seem to make peace with numbers, I don't know why. Instead I find myself at home with words and the keyboard. Spilling words on paper is like therapy. Well not as satisfactory as crying in the middle of the night during Tahajjud, but close enough (at least I get my writing assignments done).
I finished reading The Perks of Being A Wallflower.
Have you ever read a book that got you mesmerized and thinking "I could relate myself to him"? It isn't a sad book of a melancholic and pathetic tone, no, it's a book of a casual style,more like a diary. But its his experiences that I myself could connect and understand with is what made me have those mushy mood swings. I witnessed firsthand the stuff he went through. It's all in the process of growing up, I can't blame the fact I can't socialize that well to anyone, perhaps I was wired to be pedagog - to talk only when to talk, and to talk words of benefit.
But I guess I realized that too late, I don't know who i really am. An actor who is in the middle of a performance, yet lost his train of thought on his act. Just like Rango.
Who am I?
Searching for the meaning of myself is imperative in helping to deduce myself in order to see clearer in my plans of the future. But I'm afraid my hopes of tracing back my footsteps to recollect bits of who I really was looks pretty dim. My life started at 13, by that time I was already shipped into the hostel. And haen't found someone who really has a full picture of me. Even my parents don't (I think). Well mostly because of my own fault that I find myself to be so reserved and stingy in terms of sharing and revealing myself. So I always end up cursing in the wind or just simply weep the pain away. Charlie'll understand (If he's real).
I did a lengthy essay on Types Of Friends, I poured my heart out. No one can read that except the lecturer. It's just too painful. I ended up whimpering to Her, and like a mother, she coaxed me to sleep. So much for being strong Syukri. I realized what a messed up person I am in terms of socializing and motivating. Surprisingly, those things still haven't proved that deleterious to me. But it made me rethink of my easiest solution - Blend in like a chameleon - but with a price that I'll forget who I am in the first place.
The Joker is a genius
Ustaz told us to do a presentation of one name of Allah, I think I'll take As- Sami' , The Listening. Based on the reasons that He can hear my silent screams and quiet thoughts. Alhamdulillah for lighting my path up until now. Alhamdulillah for listening to my incessant pleas and complaints.
Lets hope I don't tear up during my presentation tomorrow, talking about As Sami' brings up bitter memories that I kept away from everyone. No one is a good listener to me, maybe I am that low in their eyes,or perhaps I am simply boring. I don't know, You tell me.
