things happen

Bismillah

I write when I'm happy.
I write when I'm sad.
I write when I'm bored.
I write when I'm excited.
I write when I'm surrounded.
I write when I'm alone.

With time, it proved to be a sound method of relieving myself from the expectations I had drawn for myself, and regrettably, on the expectations I have on people around me.

Writing coaches me, after err spilling all my frustation, to look at things in simpler ways.

Writing coaches me to take the first few steps to vulnerability. And my, that helped faced the many surprises this life have in store.

Keeping things bottled up isn't actually a good thing, and I find writing lets me concoct how to present what I feel, lest the other party gave up trying to understand.
(I am not very good at conveying emotions)



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And I thank God for being able to write.

I thank God on how it has become a great tool of well being.

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I am meeting a bestfriend today.

And come Sunday, I will have the escape that I longed for. InshaAllah.

Come Nora, make the most of what you have.

And what you have is a lot, now that I think of it.

In front of 7E after a loooong day at work. God surprises in many ways. Giving you chances you've only heard in stories. :')

And back in Prague, someone is a doctor as of yesterday. :) :) :)

Alhamdulillah, Alhamdulillah, Allahu Akbar.

silver lining

Bismillah

"Mungkin sekali, jalan ini, adalah asbabnya untuk ke SyurgaMu"

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As a state of matter, I am, undeniably, physically and emotionally burnt out. All work and very little room for rejuvenating has drained productivity off of me.

I hate how getting to work now scares the life out of me. Never have the nauseated and pre-syncopal feelings approach me as much as it had to do with this, than with other postings.

Now that I am writing this, I think I know exactly why I dreaded this branch of the job so much. Subconsciously, an embedded hatred towards something associated close with my liking this field, has not been put to stop.

All the while, I thought it has stopped, but I had let it destroy my existence. Why in the world did I let it do that?

:'(

I am so so tired yet I must keep my tongue and say that I am not.

Why can't I be more vulnerable?

I want to escape, but I'm imprisoned in my own shell.

I can only go so far, for I am afraid of the lack of support.

If I've climbed the highest mountain, I am afraid that all I get from people that matter most to me, when I fall, is a smirk. And the serve-you-right attitude.

And I am so so afraid to make connections, cause if I screw that, they say I made friends with the wrong crowd.

I don't know where this is going.

I don't even know why I must write this now.

Work is in 3 hours time.

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I need a break. And maybe, a psychiatrist.