Last Day.

Last day of class.

Back in high school, the last day of class was usually celebrated with dangerous amounts of junk food and fizzy drinks that can render you into a diabetic coma.

I remember the eve before the last day, I would force my maid to fry precooked chicken cause God knows I'm too lazy to coat fresh chicken in crumbs. Go figure.

Those were the good ol' days. Days when the the last day meant no more exams, no more books, just hard partying *extended couch potato hours* and quality me time *sleep, sleep, sleep*

But now, the last day of class gives a whole different meaning.

We have exams to prepare for.

We have the new house to move into.

We have to bake in this insufferable heat while we wait for the results

Then we will have to return to our homeland to be fattened up again and further decreasing my chances of having a boyfriend... again.

I like me a challenge. :)Good luck to you all my darlings.

We can do this.

Oh, and I'll be on hiatus til' further notice.

See you real soon.

Facebook Addiction.

It all started with:

Then it continued with:


And it ended with:

Okay, perhaps I was a wee bit out of line.But he started it! *in that tiny baby voice that girls make that can drive you to whip out your belt and abuse them*

Facebook has become a platform for so many things now, backbiting, gossip, cyber bullying, dating, voyeurism etc. It truly is a social network, the pros and even the dark shallow cons that leer in the crevices of our society.

Well, I did more digging. And I discovered users express all sorts of emotions on this very popular site. So much honesty, a rollercoaster of flourishing teenage angst.

... And I can hear all of you thinking "No shit, Sherlock"

From jubilant happiness:

To terse bursts of anger:


From the sexually suggestive:

To the all inspiring:


From the ambiguous:
To the inappropriate:


From simple expressions of love:

To shameless bitching:


I love Facebook. Don't you?

Dear Love.

Dear Love,

Hey, it's me Nazeera.

I hope you're doing good. It's been ages since I've heard from you, maybe circa 2009 when you gave me a taste of your potent yet momentary venom that was fortunately cured by logic and rationale. Yes, you're quite the devilish one, aren't you?

Anyway, there's something I have to talk to you about. Well, I think I could well say that you probably saw this coming. Yeah, it's the talk. Why won't you take a seat? It may get a little winded.

First of all Love, I know it's your job to maintain some sort of balance of peace and serenity in this world. It's true, without you being in the picture, there's no way for harmony and tranquility to be achieved, but seriously, I think you take your job way too seriously. I see you everywhere nowadays, being whored out by the capitalistic business ventures that plague our superficial and exhibitionist society. I mean, selling yourself for 10 dollar roses and extravagantly priced chocolates? C'mon, you're better than that.

Another thing Love, why is it that when you're around, something else deteriorates? Yeah, you give everyone that butterfly fluttering effect in the pit of our stomachs and all, but is it necessary to effectively screw up other important aspects in people's lives like studies, work and friends? Why is that? Are you that conceited that you need to have all the attention to yourself? You need help, buddy.

Also, it's funny how you come and go so fast nowadays. I mean, one look between two longing pair of eyes and BOOM! there you are. However, by the first touch or third kiss, you're already on your merry way. Okay, perhaps it's not entirely your fault, perhaps your friends Infatuations and Lust are partly responsible. But you have to take control of the situation, don't let fake knock offs wear your mask. You have a reputation to maintain.

One thing I have to bring up is that the lack of diversity in your work. Young, fiery couples are not the only ones who are in need. Aging families, feuding siblings, Palestine and Israel, they all need your aid. They might not be as exhilarating as two in heat teenagers, but they're just as equally important. Hell, it's even more important. Have you seen how people switch partners nowadays, justifying themselves with mere illusions of you? Shameful.

Anyway Love, I know you're pretty busy so I'm gonna cut this short. Thanks for reading this seemingly inane letter, I really appreciate it. Hope you take heed of what I said and just chill once in a while. Take a break will you.

You don't make the world go round, you know.



P.S
Hope to hear from you real soon, I'm getting kind of lonely.

Once Upon a Time.

The breeze enveloped her mind, like caressing hands on a lover's nape. She gazed onto the empty field, the greens and browns seemingly to come alive with every second her eyes linger. With utmost hesitation, she outstretched her hand, to touch the swaying grass, growing wild rebelling against the wind.

Slowly but surely, she takes a first step onto the mossy loam,the damp soil taking the weight of the world away from her heaving shoulders. Her ivory dress fled the silhouette of her body, exposing the arch of her back to the barren azure sky. Her timid eyes closed, feeling bold for once as she lifted her head up high, her hair now dancing in beautiful tangles. The rays of the sun played upon her skin, highlighting the freckles on her cheeks and the crimson tinge of her lips. Her face now, half aware of her isolation and yet still afraid of the judging stares of the heavens and earth. She wanted to break free from this scrutiny.

Freedom.

With every ounce of courage she could muster, she lifted the fabric ashen hems of her dress and started to run. Her legs sprinting through the emerald leaves. her breaths growing heavier, her heart beating away a symphony of emotions. The pain throbbing throughout her frail body. Little beads of sweat rolling down her forehead. She could hear the screams of the silence, growing louder, bombarding her with a hushed abuse. The noise of the invisible crowd, their grasp no longer bounded to her. She will no longer be battered. No longer be neglected. No longer a pawn.

She was weary. But she never stopped. She kept running. Like the wind.

Pointless? Perhaps.

But there's a story somewhere in there, I promise.

This Week's Roundup.

I could honestly say, without a doubt, it felt like I lived a lifetime in one week.

It was a roller coaster of a ride, countless emotions flooding my head, planting an eternal seed that seems to have embedded itself within me.

Definitely, absolutely something I can write about in journals and put it in a box labelled

Things I Would Remind My Kids Again and Again
Why Their Mother was a Badass

So, what happened this week that turned me to an already exaggerated version of myself? *hint: total drama queen*. Well, I made a list!

Yay me.

One.
During Early Experience on Wednesday, a terminally ill, jaundice stricken patient who had an inoperable brain tumour died in the middle of class. He died slumped in his wife's arms and she started crying and screaming, stunning all of us.

Just earlier, the doctor teaching us had screamed at the dead man's family to stop coming in and out the room and told his young son that he could see his dad after the class.

I guess he never got the chance.

Two.
I'm a criminal. An utter shameless criminal.

I *along with a couple of people* stole some exam papers during the Mid Semester and I got caught. The head tutor even threatened to deduct marks and not send us lecture slides anymore.

Oh, yes, for once in my life, I felt total, body engulfing panic.

I even called my mum and told her "Forgive me if I don't come back for the summer"

Please don't let me die in this burning heat, Dr. Dalia.

However, thanks to a couple of other fellow thieves as well, we got together and apologized to Dr. Dalia. Let's just say, thanks to her graciousness, she let us off the hook with a warning as well as a reminder that the questions will not be repeated anymore hence, there's no point shredding papers anymore.

Well, good to know that I have reduced my chances of sitting for the summer exam. I have a track record and competition with my mother to think about.

Three.
I sang four songs; Yellow, Halo, Bad Romance and Mercy for college, again. It was for our Mansoura Manchester Art Gallery that was fortunately well received and showcased some of the best artwork and photographs I've seen.

Congratulations to the winners, Sherif and some-other-guy-who-was-not-Taqi as well as to Hadeer Soultan and Basim Helmy for coordinating the event. Hopefully, in about 4-5 years time, we can kick AUC's ass.

Oh, and thanks to Ahmed Yousry for playing the piano/keyboard. Hope you get your tuned, pitch perfect voice back man, I'm gonna wait for that day.

Four.
My friend has found a new boyfriend and they're in their honeymoon stage. I guess it doesn't really apply to me but I'm allowed to brood, right? She even changed her number so that it'll be cheaper to text him.

So, Baby and I decided to change our numbers too so that we can text each other.

What is that? I hear a nomination for The Most Pathetic Moment of 2010?

Total frontrunner.

Five.
I gave a presentation yesterday. Fairouz and I to be specific. About the "Epidemiology of Multiple Sclerosis". Fairouz was fantastic as usual.

I however, showed the world my ataxic gait and probably scared off every boy who thought I was remotely a lady.

Oh well.

Six.
Another thing that doesn't really apply to me but I think ought to have an ounce of empathy for this one.

It's about the lack of human rights that terrifyingly rampant in this one unspecified country. Back home in Malaysia, you hardly never see kids working a full time job, or your own people begging on the streets. And even that, we complain and moan about the lack of human rights and transparency that plague our government.

But hey, compared to atrocity that is unfurling before my eyes, Malaysia's living the life of luxury.

Corruption has left a widening gap between the filthy rich and disgustingly poor people. The most revolting part is how a country with so much Islamic values indoctrinated within them are inhumane savages who's creativity in inducing torture onto its people breaks every barrier of cruelty and monstrous barbarism.

God have mercy on your souls.

Anyway, I have to go perform my duties to God now. Also, I have a crapload of work to complete, being the eager person who wants to go back and hug her bag *and family and friends* ... I gotta start now!

See you people

Me, a guy? Totally, Utterly... Possible.

An absolutely absurd thought crossed my mind today. If it not were for the obvious female body parts...

I could EASILY pass for guy.

I'm serious.

First of all, I'm not thinking of a sex change or anything.

Cool if that happened though? Man, this blog would be a hit!

Memoirs of a Hijabi Transvestite. I can see the moolah now.

Back to the point, one of the the most obvious things is that I actually really really like football. I mean, I would dive in head first in a mosh pit in Old Trafford, any time baby.

That's how much I love football, people.

Yes, I don't watch all the matches, but hey, the only reason why I don't is because I have my studies to think about. And the fact, I'm such a bitch when watching a match.

I would literally whimper if the game doesn't go well.

You know that that twist of the gut feeling you get when you know something's bad about to happen? Yes, THAT happens to me each time I watch Manchester United playing like shit. And they often play like shit, like they're doing the damn job for free. I swear, if you're being paid like a corrupted minister, make a damn effort for God's sake! Sheesh.

Anyway, second, about expressing your feelings.

God, I hate gushing.

Period.

It's not that I'm heartless, but I don't really hate using the words "hurts", "so much" or "cry" in the same sentence. Oh no, doesn't mean I never went through the whole heartbreak phase. Of course I did. I am a teenager after all.

But to moan and groan about it to another person, wanting his/her sympathy? Oh my god, I rather bleed internally.

I mean, I'd like to think my problems are mine to solve. Burdening it onto others would not only make things worst, it'll probably piss that person off, cause you know, they don't too don't want your bull ruining their day. Yes, friends are there to help you through the day, but hey, everybody has their limits. And I for once, am not gonna be the unlucky dumbass pushing those limits.

Third is, chick lits.

Now, this is problem that I think everyone should consider a global problem, put it up there along with the Al Qaeda and world hunger.

Why does ANYONE buy/read chick lits? Why does anyone with a single, functioning brain cell read chick lits? Why do you want to jeopardize your IQ and every useful information in your brain by the reading the absolute filth of literature? Absolute bottom of the lot? God knows.

I bought this one book once called Wives and Girlfriends by Katie Agnew in Heathrow airport, hoping for a light read on the plane. Not only was the novel disgustingly camp and trivial, it was a chance for a faux celebutante to flaunt the excessive, unbelievable lifestyle in the faces of many, hoping for a quick buck from this blatant brandishing of so-called opulence. I for one, honey, am not buying it.

The book was almost as bad as the Twilight series. She kept reusing the same phrases again and again like "chocolate brown" and "velvety smooth" to describe things. Sounds like a Peter and Jane Introduction to English book if you ask me.

Argh, I should finish ranting about this quickly before I go absolutely mad and might go on shooting rampage.

Last but not least, is my far from feminine behaviour.

Unless you're absolutely blind, illiterate or just in constant denial, as you can see, I swear, a lot. I know it suppose to be "cool" to swear like a sailor but deep down, I'd really want to stop this unhealthy habit.

I would like to express my feelings in the most simple, holistic ways and since not all of us like reading big words and quickly googling them, I use common vulgarity to articulate what I feel. Particularly when that feeling is a fiery, agitated one.

I'm loud, assertive, rarely indecisive, headstrong and have less than 10 pairs of shoes.

I don't like walks in the rain, I don't like flowers *they die for Pete's sake!*, chocolates are only meant to be bought by me and eaten quietly like a criminal enjoying their last meal, I like wearing pants and I do threaten anyone remotely annoying with physical violence.

Don't I sound like a catch?

Exam Scars.

This is me.

... This morning.

I'm definitely feeling the heat of the exam now. Went to the toilet twice today when I hardly ate anything yesterday.

I could feel the emptying of HCl from my tummy.

Oh yeah...

The Big Bad Stress Diarrhea Monster has finally yielded its ugly head.

Does this every damn year as well.

I remember during my SPM Additional Math paper *which I got a C for ANYWAY* I was practically spewing blood after numerous trips to the toilet while staying up for the night, studying.

Exams and me just do not go together, just never did make our peace. We're like an old married couple where I'm the subservient wife who's being beaten repeatedly by her superior, condescending husband, leaving me numerous and multiple scars all over my ragged body.

Only this one, I cannot take to court or sue for alimony. Damn.

Yesterday, I received an email from my mum saying she's worried about my studies, about me coming online too often and even assumed I was busy clubbing AND dating.

Dear Mummy,
Your daughter has not had a date for the longest of time. 20 years this 2nd of August, to be exact.

And clubbing, there are no clubs in Mansoura.

So yes, you don't have to worry about your daughter being a wayward wild child while being here. Oh, but au contraire, she's even being accused of being a spy for PCM.

Hilarious? I thought so too.

Thank you.

5alas keda.

Anyway, I really got to start studying today before I go bonkers. Chinese competitiveness kicking in! Gotta get things done, you know, before the clubbing and dating starts ;)

See you.